LEAH: What the hell? Why would they meet?
CHRIS: Viktor is in Germany and he asked Marc to meet up
A couple of minutes went by, and Leah didn’t answer. But then his phone started vibrating in his hand. As he picked up the video call, Chris was met with a frown.
“What the fuck?”
“Hello to you, too.”
“Why is Marc gonna meet with Viktor? Since when have they been talking and why am I just hearing this now?” she asked, the snow crunching under her feet sounding almost as angry as her.
“They haven’t exactly been talking, that I know of.”
“That you know of?” Her image shook as she continued walking. “Why the hell are you so chill when your man is going to meet with his ex?”
Chris flinched at her last words, but shrugged off the stinging sensation and countered, “First, he’s not my man. And second, where are you?”
He knew she was in Norway with Søren, but he thought they’d be cuddling in his house and all he could see were trees and a greyish sky behind her.
“Hiking. Well, we just came back, and we’re about to have a late lunch in this cute cabin in the middle of fucking nowhere. But I figured I’d need a little privacy for this conversation. So, I’m going to the van.”
“Okay.”
“Tell me, what exactly happened with Marc and Viktor?”
“He just messaged Marc after the announcement of us playing at Wacken, and after a few more emails, he told him he was here for some art exhibition or some shit, and asked him to meet.”
“And Marc said yes?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
Chris leaned back on the couch. “He was hesitant, but seemed annoyed because he never had the chance to tell him how he was feeling when he left. So, I told him to meet him—”
“You, what?” Leah screeched.
“What?”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I texted you to see if I was just being paranoid and you’re making it worse.”
“You want me to lie to you? I can do that, but we both know you already know this is stupid.”
“But he needs closure.”
“He doesn’t. He has you.”
“Dude, we’re just hooking up.”
“You sure about that?” Leah halted for a second, nostrils flaring. “How long are you gonna keep living in denial?” she asked, opening and stepping inside what Chris assumed was Søren’s van.
“What denial?”
“You don’t feel anything for Marc?” The rustle of clothes as she took off her scarf, coat, and gloves muffled her voice.
“Hmm… He’s one of my best friends. I appreciate him, respect him, admire his skills with the bass, definitely enjoy his dick—”
