On board

Streets of Monaco - part 1

"What a day..." The brunette muttered to himself as he opened up his room. The hefty wooden door swinging open only to fall back onto him slightly as he lent up against the polished wooden door frame. His tired body getting in the way of the heavy door from locking shut once again.

His room was very much the same as it was before. The same white walls with the same wooden panels which were seen everywhere. The same arrangement of furniture placed around the same bed, with the same two, round windows staring back at him. A hopeful glint out through them showing the gentle ebb and flow of the waves they passed through. The metal bar of an external railing seeming to block his view of a distant city which he couldn't seem to name. The small dollops of light pollution rising up into the otherwise blackened sky being the only sign of human interference that night as they passed through international waters. It was all the same as he had found it back in Valencia, where the promise of a room all by himself excited him beyond belief; only now to send him into a world of disappointment and loneliness where, for the first time in his career Joe felt truly homesick. It was silly, or so he thought as he finally took a step into the room and allowed the door to click to a shut, that something as meaningless as a room which was designed for nothing more than sleeping in could put him in as much as state as it apparently had.

When he woke up in this very room earlier that morning, Joe felt as if he were on cloud nine. He had a gorgeous woman sleeping in his bed next to him, they held good conversation even when they were dreary eyed and half asleep, and for the first time in his life he found himself secretly begging her not to go, when every other occasion he found himself begging the women in his bed not to stay. Yet this morning, when she had indeed left, Joe found himself chugging along in autopilot, taking his time to straighten out his room into perfect order to ensure that everything had a place, and remained in it. Meaning that the beautiful chaos of his messy room and crumpled bed sheets he had awoken with this morning were no longer there, creating the familiarity of perfect order which he craved in his life before. Leaving in its wake the eradication of any sign of the perfectly chaotic redhead who was there this morning, with no notion of her return.

Sighing softly, Joe walked further into the room. Taking his time to continue with his nightly routine in which he first removed his jacket from off his back, placing it on the hanger he had left hooked over the handle to his wardrobe, before placing it back delicately in the closet. He then sat himself down on a small armchair in the corner of the room where he undid the knot of his tie, relieved himself from the constraints of his top button, and sat in silence for no more and no less than three minutes where he sipped on the final dredges of his water bottle. Where any other night he would take the time to consider things such as how he was feeling, how hungry he was, or how tired he was, or essentially any other basic requirement of his mind and body. Yet tonight the notions of his homeostasis were far from the singers mind, as instead all he could focus on was his conversation with Adam, and his desire to call his sister - knowing more than anything that she would know what to do.

Yet that was not where his quarrels solely rested that night, as beyond anything else Joe knew what it was he had to do to get rid of this feeling of incompletion which had come over him most of the evening. Yet it was more the 'how' which was confusing him. As Joe had divulged earlier in Adam he had never been in a situation like this. A situation where he wanted to find out more about a woman and actively spend his free time with her, when most commonly in his life he had found himself racking his brains for ideas as to how to get girls out of his life, rather than in. And because of these life choices it was no exaggeration that Joe very quickly found himself falling out of depth and feeling totally inadequate. Not quite knowing how exactly he was to both remain the version of himself she liked, and not the cocky, arrogant man who she had so clearly stated her hatred for, and act confidently enough to ask her the question he wanted to ask all at the same time. A mixture he was yet to have finished figuring out before his three minutes of time where up and he found himself once again acting on autopilot, standing up and heading out of his room without another thought of it. Only to find himself following the instructions he had given her earlier that morning and eventually finding himself staring the door in the face.