CHRISTOPH'S POV
-reading a magazine-
Who even are these people? I've never heard of Hella Van Zeeland. None of these names are familiar. I must be getting old. Suddenly, three knocks could be heard from my front door. It better not be that annoying neighbor who complains about my noise level. I'm not even playing drums right now! I go to open the door, and there he stood. It's Till.
"Till, uh. What...are you doing here?" I inquire, sticking my head out of my door entrance. He awkwardly smiles before responding to my question.
"I'm sorry to come without notice. I have nowhere to go at the moment." He admits with a saddened and distant look.
"Uh, yeah make yourself at home. My wife and kid left an hour ago so noise is not an issue." I respond as I further open the front door.
"Thank you, Christoph." He replies with a weak smile.
"It's no problem, Lindemann. One question though, when did you get better?" I ask Till as he walks right past me.
"Today." He abruptly blurts out as he turns to look at me. My mouth opens, but I close it once again. My initial reaction eventually comes out after a few seconds of panicking.
"Wait, what? You shouldn't be here. Does Flake know about this? Oh no. Till-"
"Of course not! He'd tell me about everything I did wrong and how I hurt everyone. I ran off because I didn't want them to see me get this way-this bad. Look at me now." Till says as he interrupts my frustrated and alarmed response. He lets out a sigh and looks away from me.
"Till..."
"No no you're right. I shouldn't be here. I should be with the others celebrating-celebrating...my return to humanity..." His voice trails off as he grows quieter with every word.
"You're not wrong. Flake would get upset. So would Richard. I understand why you chose to come here instead of going to them. Knowing Flake, he'll probably give you an endless rant about the importance of being honest with oneself! He's a weirdo like that." I say with a laugh. Till awkwardly joins in before he abruptly stops. There is a lingering silence between us before he pops the question I hope I wouldn't have to hear.
"Can I stay for a few days?" Till begs as he forces himself to make eye contact with me.
"I mean...I said it was okay for you to come in a stay as long as you...need...to. I'm sure my family will understand. Don't worry so much about that though. Another question though. If they call, what do I say?"
"Do. Not. Tell. Them. I'm. here." firmly demands Till in a rather intimidating voice. He forces me to promise that. I agree to and make my way back to the sofa. I'm not sure if I plan on keeping that promise. It depends on the situation I'm thrown into. Life or death, then I'll spill the beans. For now, I'm not saying a word to anyone. Who knows how Till would react if he found out I went against his wishes.
"Feel free to eat whatever you want from the fridge. All is yours well except the yogurt. My wife's on this diet so ja." I offer as I point to my fridge. Till's eyes move accordingly to the fridge as I motion to it. A slight childlike smile creeps up on his face-that same smile children get whenever they are allowed to do something they thought they couldn't do.
"Thanks, Schneids." He responds gratefully. I smile and look away.
"No problem, Till." I reply as I walk towards him. I sit on the couch and motion for him to join me. Till sits on the opposite sofa, facing me.
After a while, we begin to talk about life and certain aspects that could be changed. Till eventually opens up about his drinking situation.
-an hour into talking passes by-
YOU ARE READING
Rammvier Against One
RandomTill is on thin ice with the keyboardist. He shouldn't be drinking, and yet he still is. The rest of the band members care greatly for Till. All except, Christoph (or so it seems to be that way.) Till finds himself having to run away from the band...
