The Art of Longing

[4] Mr Manley

Last night had been a late one. The guys had convinced me to join their little 'hey the tour started' party which had been fun, but long. I had gone to sleep around three in the morning, but I had to get up at eight so I could catch my 9am train to Stockholm. Originally I had planned to plan the rest of the tour a little more during the train ride, but that didn't happen. I slept the entire time, so by the time I got to Stockholm I was feeling a little more rested and a little less hungover.

I got off at the main station with all my belongings before I organised myself a taxi which would take me to the hotel that my agency had picked out. It was next to the stadium again which I appreciated, it meant that I didn't have to travel for ages after the concert was done. It meant I had to travel a while now, when I wanted to get back to the city for a few photos, but that was okay, because it was during the day.

By the time I made it to the hotel, it was already 1pm. I had four hours until I would have to go get a quick look at the arena set up they'd be playing in tonight. I was determined to make the most of the time I had, so I only checked in, dropped off my things and then immediately hopped back into the taxi so it would take me back to the city centre. Gamla Stan, the old city, was gorgeous and I always tried to get a few good shots if I was in Stockholm.

I also got something to eat while I was there and I picked up and old camera that I found in an antiques store. That was the kind of shopping I liked to do. When it was getting late I caught the bus out to the stadium again. I didn't want to spend more money on a taxi, especially because the right bus was coming just as I was looking at the timetables.

Back at the hotel, I got my key from the reception and was told that a Mr Manley asked for me. Whoever that was, I wasn't sure I wanted to know. Until I realised I that could be one of the touring crew so I asked the receptionist what the man looked like. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she was describing Brian, how many tall thin guys with many curls were there? However, she wasn't allowed to tell me his room number, so I just told her to tell Mr Manley that I had checked in and he should come tell me what he wanted.

I went up to my room and unpacked everything before I went into the bathroom to take a shower. It was desperately necessary, I didn't want the audience to faint when I was between them and the band.

I had barely gotten out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my hair before I could hear knocking on my door. "Just a second," I called and wrapped the bathrobe around me, making my way over to the door. "Oh... hi," I greeted the tall man standing in front of my door. Brian, who else. "Are you Mr Manley?"

"Oh... yeah, hi. How do you know about that name?" He asked, seeming surprised. He looked over his shoulder before he looked back at me. "Could I come in? I think I saw a few fans earlier."

"Brian, I'm not dressed," I pointed out the obvious.

"Please. I won't look, I'll let you get dressed before we talk more," he promised, sounding a little genuinely desperate.

"Alright fine," I gave in and stepped aside. "Just give me a minute," I told him and got some clothes out of my suitcase. I looked at him firmly and pointed my finger at him. "Keep your hands to yourself."

He looked at me surprised but nodded. "I will, don't worry." He took a seat on the chair in my room and looked like I could leave him alone for a bit.

I quickly got dressed in bathroom before I returned into the bedroom, only to find that Brian hadn't kept his hands to himself, no, he was closely examining my new camera. "Didn't I say something about keeping your hands to yourself?"

Brian looked up and gave me an embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. You know I like photography, and I don't think I've seen this model before."