Breakfast on the Shores of Seine
At my first job my editor, Cynthia, loved to joke with me about how her greatest nightmare is to lose one of her writers to a rock star. I myself had a few friends that ended up leaving their career to be with a rock star.
Truth to be told, and you’d know that, if you’re a girl, we all dream of a long-haired guy with a lot of tattoos, in leather pants, on a bike, who will write us songs and play on his acoustic guitar every night. And rock stars are exactly that. Only in our dreams they aren’t all about pussy, alcohol and drugs. Reality, when you’ve been around rock stars long enough, starts to seem vague. You’re drawn into a spiral of never-ending parties, that involve a lot of pussy, alcohol and drugs. The pussy are the poor girls who did not realize in time a rock star is not someone you can take to dinner at your mommy and daddy’s house and build a home with. They want to be with a rock star because they can brag that they found their dream-bad-boy, and on top of that, he plays in a really famous band.
If you work with rock stars, the first thing you need to assume is that they can’t fall in love. Even if you’re a Playboy-worthy babe.
After the long tiring gig, both for me and Chris, as well as for Vicious, we went backstage. We had a nice, long interview with them, discussed everything about their lives, music, ideas, even some of their personal life. Chris was packing his equipment as we were getting ready to head back to the hotel, when Dany, who was quiet most of the time, asked us how long are we staying in Paris. I already told Jayden we were leaving the next day and before Chris could open his mouth, Jayden announced that we are having lunch with them tomorrow. This was completely unplanned, but I couldn’t say no to his enthusiasm.
When we got back to the hotel room, I called Ron and told him about the interview and how well it went. I told him we’re going to have lunch tomorrow with the band and I could hear the excitement in his voice. What I didn’t tell Ron, and probably the thing I should’ve started with, was that I couldn’t get Dany out of my head.
The next day when I woke up for breakfast, I saw a few missed calls from a private number. My guess was that’s probably Jayden and a little voice in my head was hoping he was calling to cancel the lunch. Just as I was heading downstairs, my phone rang again.
“Anya here, how can I help ya?”
There was a long silence on the other end. I hate it when people do that. If you’re gonna be silent, why did you even call?
“Hello? Is anyo…”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. Hi, Anya.”
I froze in my step. It wasn’t Jayden. It was the voice that I knew so well from all the Vicious records. It was Dany. I tried to keep my cool and act casual, but I could feel the butterflies flying up and down in a spiral in my stomach.
“Hey, what’s up? Change of plans for the lunch?”
“Actually, no. Lunch is still on, we’ll come pick you up. I was wondering if you had breakfast already.”
“Was just heading there, why?”
“How about I take you for breakfast to a nice coffee shop somewhere in Paris?”
I didn’t know what to answer. The professional part of me told me to say I don’t feel very well and I prefer to stay at the hotel and rest, but the woman part felt attracted to the bad boy Dany was. Maybe I should have said no, but then my life would not have taken all the turns it did and I wouldn’t be here, writing this now.
I must’ve taken a while to think what to answer because Dany interrupted my thoughts with his strong British accent.
“Anya, are you there?”
“Yes, yes. Where do I meet you?”
“I’m waiting downstairs. There’s a silver car parked right in front of the hotel.”
And this is how I went to have breakfast with Dany Johnson.
I must admit, it wasn’t my first time alone with a big rock star, so I knew what to expect, but Dany was completely different.
Tattoos appeal.
Chivalry is sought after.
Tattoos and chivalry is the sweetest thing a girl could want.
His idea of “breakfast in a nice coffee shop somewhere in Paris” was actually a small round table with two chairs, a basket of all kinds of pastry and two huge cups of the best Parisian coffee. On the shore of Seine, with the Eiffel Tower in front of us and the Luxor Obelisk to the left.
We spoke about so many things, it’s hard for me to even remember. What I remember, besides the breathtaking view that very few girls get to enjoy while sipping coffee on their own table with their own rock star, was that every time my eyes met Dany’s piercing green stare my heart skipped a beat. In my head, I could hear Cynthia’s voice telling me to keep that pretty face away from the studded leather nets of rock stars and I knew this was highly unprofessional of me. But my heart was speaking louder that day and a girl gotta do what her heart tells her.
Two hours later Dany dropped me off at the hotel and gave me time to change and get Chris. While I was heading to the room, I quickly found Cynthia’s number and dialed it.
Even though we ended our professional relationship years ago, we never stopped talking to each other and in time she became one of my closest friends. I knew that now she was the only person who would be able to help me figure this one out.
“Anya, darling! How have you been, where are you?”
“Hi, Cynthia. I’m… fine. I’m in France, interviewing Vicious.”
Cynthia was the type of person who could understand something from the way you pause in a sentence.
“Uh-oh… who is he, honey?”
“It’s Dany.”
“Dany Johnson?! Are you insane? Where are you in Paris, I’m sending a limo to pick you up and drive you to the airport and you’re coming straight here.”
“No, no. It’s different this time. He started it and…”
“Of course he did, darling. Who wouldn’t start being sweet and nice for a beauty like you? Now, your address, the driver is waiting.”
“No, Cynthia. Thanks, but no. I just want to talk to you about it because it feels weird. I mean, he had the chance to sleep with me last night after the gig, but he didn’t. Instead he just took me for a breakfast on the shore of Seine. And he’s so gorgeous.”
“He is, but remember the first rule I taught you – he’s a rock star. His life is not as glamorous as it looks. You deserve better than him.”
She was right. I wasn’t gonna let him get to me. He was the rock star, I was the journalist. It was just another job.
“I’m having lunch with the band in an hour.”
“Good, good. You will go there, you will act professional, then leave and you won’t think about Dany Johnson anymore, is that clear?”
I smiled at her words.
“Yes. So what are you doing tomorrow night?”
“I have this writer friend, she met a guy. We need to discuss it. 8 o’clock at our bar. I’ll see you.”
23.07.2010
Replica
At my first job my editor, Cynthia, loved to joke with me about how her greatest nightmare is to lose one of her writers to a rock star. I myself had a few friends that ended up leaving their career to be with a rock star.
Truth to be told, and you’d know that, if you’re a girl, we all dream of a long-haired guy with a lot of tattoos, in leather pants, on a bike, who will write us songs and play on his acoustic guitar every night. And rock stars are exactly that. Only in our dreams they aren’t all about pussy, alcohol and drugs. Reality, when you’ve been around rock stars long enough, starts to seem vague. You’re drawn into a spiral of never-ending parties, that involve a lot of pussy, alcohol and drugs. The pussy are the poor girls who did not realize in time a rock star is not someone you can take to dinner at your mommy and daddy’s house and build a home with. They want to be with a rock star because they can brag that they found their dream-bad-boy, and on top of that, he plays in a really famous band.
If you work with rock stars, the first thing you need to assume is that they can’t fall in love. Even if you’re a Playboy-worthy babe.
After the long tiring gig, both for me and Chris, as well as for Vicious, we went backstage. We had a nice, long interview with them, discussed everything about their lives, music, ideas, even some of their personal life. Chris was packing his equipment as we were getting ready to head back to the hotel, when Dany, who was quiet most of the time, asked us how long are we staying in Paris. I already told Jayden we were leaving the next day and before Chris could open his mouth, Jayden announced that we are having lunch with them tomorrow. This was completely unplanned, but I couldn’t say no to his enthusiasm.
When we got back to the hotel room, I called Ron and told him about the interview and how well it went. I told him we’re going to have lunch tomorrow with the band and I could hear the excitement in his voice. What I didn’t tell Ron, and probably the thing I should’ve started with, was that I couldn’t get Dany out of my head.
The next day when I woke up for breakfast, I saw a few missed calls from a private number. My guess was that’s probably Jayden and a little voice in my head was hoping he was calling to cancel the lunch. Just as I was heading downstairs, my phone rang again.
“Anya here, how can I help ya?”
There was a long silence on the other end. I hate it when people do that. If you’re gonna be silent, why did you even call?
“Hello? Is anyo…”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. Hi, Anya.”
I froze in my step. It wasn’t Jayden. It was the voice that I knew so well from all the Vicious records. It was Dany. I tried to keep my cool and act casual, but I could feel the butterflies flying up and down in a spiral in my stomach.
“Hey, what’s up? Change of plans for the lunch?”
“Actually, no. Lunch is still on, we’ll come pick you up. I was wondering if you had breakfast already.”
“Was just heading there, why?”
“How about I take you for breakfast to a nice coffee shop somewhere in Paris?”
I didn’t know what to answer. The professional part of me told me to say I don’t feel very well and I prefer to stay at the hotel and rest, but the woman part felt attracted to the bad boy Dany was. Maybe I should have said no, but then my life would not have taken all the turns it did and I wouldn’t be here, writing this now.
I must’ve taken a while to think what to answer because Dany interrupted my thoughts with his strong British accent.
“Anya, are you there?”
“Yes, yes. Where do I meet you?”
“I’m waiting downstairs. There’s a silver car parked right in front of the hotel.”
And this is how I went to have breakfast with Dany Johnson.
I must admit, it wasn’t my first time alone with a big rock star, so I knew what to expect, but Dany was completely different.
Tattoos appeal.
Chivalry is sought after.
Tattoos and chivalry is the sweetest thing a girl could want.
His idea of “breakfast in a nice coffee shop somewhere in Paris” was actually a small round table with two chairs, a basket of all kinds of pastry and two huge cups of the best Parisian coffee. On the shore of Seine, with the Eiffel Tower in front of us and the Luxor Obelisk to the left.
We spoke about so many things, it’s hard for me to even remember. What I remember, besides the breathtaking view that very few girls get to enjoy while sipping coffee on their own table with their own rock star, was that every time my eyes met Dany’s piercing green stare my heart skipped a beat. In my head, I could hear Cynthia’s voice telling me to keep that pretty face away from the studded leather nets of rock stars and I knew this was highly unprofessional of me. But my heart was speaking louder that day and a girl gotta do what her heart tells her.
Two hours later Dany dropped me off at the hotel and gave me time to change and get Chris. While I was heading to the room, I quickly found Cynthia’s number and dialed it.
Even though we ended our professional relationship years ago, we never stopped talking to each other and in time she became one of my closest friends. I knew that now she was the only person who would be able to help me figure this one out.
“Anya, darling! How have you been, where are you?”
“Hi, Cynthia. I’m… fine. I’m in France, interviewing Vicious.”
Cynthia was the type of person who could understand something from the way you pause in a sentence.
“Uh-oh… who is he, honey?”
“It’s Dany.”
“Dany Johnson?! Are you insane? Where are you in Paris, I’m sending a limo to pick you up and drive you to the airport and you’re coming straight here.”
“No, no. It’s different this time. He started it and…”
“Of course he did, darling. Who wouldn’t start being sweet and nice for a beauty like you? Now, your address, the driver is waiting.”
“No, Cynthia. Thanks, but no. I just want to talk to you about it because it feels weird. I mean, he had the chance to sleep with me last night after the gig, but he didn’t. Instead he just took me for a breakfast on the shore of Seine. And he’s so gorgeous.”
“He is, but remember the first rule I taught you – he’s a rock star. His life is not as glamorous as it looks. You deserve better than him.”
She was right. I wasn’t gonna let him get to me. He was the rock star, I was the journalist. It was just another job.
“I’m having lunch with the band in an hour.”
“Good, good. You will go there, you will act professional, then leave and you won’t think about Dany Johnson anymore, is that clear?”
I smiled at her words.
“Yes. So what are you doing tomorrow night?”
“I have this writer friend, she met a guy. We need to discuss it. 8 o’clock at our bar. I’ll see you.”
23.07.2010
Replica
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