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Lahat ng Kabanata ng Falling for a John: Kabanata 81 - Kabanata 90

118 Kabanata

80

LENNOX I knew I had to step back and let him pass, but before he could go, I reached out and grabbed his wrist, whispering in his ear, "You're not alone, Ashton." He took a deep breath, his expression almost breaking through the barriers he had erected. However, he responded, "I have to take this call." I watched as he strode down the hallway with purpose and disappeared into the second lounge, closing the door behind him. Davin guided me to the aisle of bunks, speaking in a hushed voice. "You don't want to get involved in that," he warned. "They've been at odds for years." Running both hands through my hair, I replied softly, "I can't just stand by and watch Sandro tear him apar

81

ASHTON The small hotel bar was dimly lit, with a sign illuminating "Chicago" in bold letters. A variety of liquor bottles lined the counter, but there was no bartender in sight. The walls were adorned with Chicago Cubs posters in blue and red, and apart from one table, all the high-top tables were empty. As we entered, the five bodyguards sitting at the table instantly noticed us, and their conversation seemed to quiet down. I could sense that Kaleb, Perth, Davin, Seth, and Perry's attention was on me, not Lennox. Damn. It felt like I had some kind of superpower that rendered me incapable of speaking. "Hey," I sa

82

ASHTON Perth interrupted, drumming his fingers on his whiskey glass. "Hey, everyone. Ashton should be able to skip any dares or truths that he wants—" "No," I interjected, not wanting to appear too controlling or rigid. I couldn't be passive in this situation. "I can play the game just like you guys." Perth shifted on his stool, surprised by my response. "Are you sure? You can skip anything I wrote down. You should, really. I didn't think you'd be here." Davin playfully wrapped his arm around Perth's shoulders. "Perth strongly suggests and recommends it." Clearly, they all knew something I didn't. Before I

83

ASHTON Lennox steps down from the stool and stands in front of Kaleb. "Write 'fuck you, Lennox' wherever you find space," he says. Without uttering a word, Kaleb uncaps the pen and writes "I promise to follow the rules" near Lennox's collarbone. Lennox rolls his eyes and tucks his shirt into his back pocket before returning to the stool beside me. With another roll, Kaleb loses the bet again. He loses his second dice and reads, "Truth: how attracted are you to your client—no, this is inappropriate, Davin." "I can explain,

84

ASHTON Lennox's gaze shifts towards me, surprise flickering in his eyes. "It'll be really quick," the nerdy guy insists. "Sorry," I reply, resolute in my decision. Lennox interjects, "The bar is closed." The sportier guy gestures towards the Jack Daniels. "Then how did you get that?" "We're special," Davin asserts. "Whiskey?" the geekier guy says, shaking his head. He places his hands on his J. Son beanie and looks at me. "You shouldn't be drinking, man."

85

ASHTON The ballroom was packed with enthusiastic fans, every chair occupied. A pathway divided the room, leading to a microphone where fans eagerly awaited their turn to ask questions. A large banner, proudly displaying "FanCon presented by J.H.W. Philanthropies," served as the backdrop for a decent-sized stage. Five chairs were neatly arranged in a row, with the tour's moderator gently tapping the microphone at the podium. As soon as the moderator introduced us, we stepped onto the stage, causing an eruption of cheers from the crowd. The room echoed with applause and whistling, accompanied by the flashing of cameras. I couldn't help but smile and wave in response to the overwhelming support. I picked up a microphone from my designated seat, taki

86

LENNOX He pauses, deep in thought, his mind churning with contemplation. "I'd survive either way," he says, breaking the silence. His hand moves from my chest to his own, emphasizing his point. "Between the two of us, I'm the trained swimmer." A smile forms on my lips as I respond, trying to steer the conversation in a metaphorical direction. "I meant metaphorically drowning." His expression darkens, a mix of 2% amusement and 98% irritation. But that doesn't bother me. I'm 100% satisfied with our exchange, and without realizing it, we draw closer to each other. The dirt and moss beneath our boots scuff and crunch. "I'm not losing at anything," he asserts, attempting to reassure m

87

LENNOX "I'm going to ask you this once," Kaleb confronted me on Christmas Eve. We were all gathered in the second lounge at SFO, except for Davin who was driving us to Atlanta. It wasn't for a meeting or a pointless fight. We were undressing for a Hot Santa Underwear Contest, with our clients serving as the judges in the first lounge. We had randomly picked underwear styles from a hat, ranging from tame to nearly-naked. Perth had dubbed the evening as chill and fun, but everyone seemed to have forgotten that Kaleb had no concept of either. As I pulled my black shirt over my head, I tried to suppress an eye-roll. "Okay, ask me," I replied. Multicolored bulbs flashed to the beat of a holiday jingle, and more lights were strung throughout the bus. K

88

ASHTONMaddy whispered to herself, pondering the judging parameters. With a pen in her mouth, she sat with a blank sheet of paper on her lap. Meanwhile, I zipped up the back of Willow's reindeer onesie. "Merci," Willow smiled, dropping to the floor in front of Lincoln. Although there were two gray couches available in the first lounge, Lincoln opened a sewing kit, planning to attach antlers to Willow's hood. He had already sewed identical antlers onto Maddy's onesie, and now she sat cross-legged on the opposite couch, deep in thought. A smile began to form on my lips. It was our first Christmas Eve away from our families, and although it felt strange, it wasn't a bad experience. Both Lincoln and I

89

ASHTON"Introducing Perry, also known as Samson Perry," Willow narrates, "a twenty-six-year-old Leo and former tattoo artist. He comes from an Irish background and is skilled in mixed martial arts." Perry twirls at the end of his walk and takes a bow. Without realizing it, I've been absentmindedly munching on some mediocre cookies. I finish my third one, surprised that Maddy seems to enjoy them enough to reach for more. Willow straightens herself up. "Perry, if you had to choose one word to describe yourself, what would it be?" "Thirsty," he replies.

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