Thomas & January (Sleepless 2)

“Huh? Uh, yeah. It’s still a little chilly out.” I tugged the hood of my jacket farther over my face.

“Mmm, hmm,” she hummed under her breath.

I wasn’t taking the bait. “There’s a couple of day bands, but I’ve screened them already and I’m not interested.”

“So have I and I concur.”

“I do want to see a band called Clever. Many of the labels are going to be interested in this one, but I know someone who knows someone who got them to see me first.”

“Shut the eff up!”

“No.”

“Jeez, chill, Tom. I was just joshing,” she said, elbowing me softly.

“Sorry,” I said absently.

“Where are they playing?”

“Reine.”

“Ah, I see.”

“This is a joint effort by several labels, January. There’ll be media there.”

“Media.”

“Pic ops. I doubt we’ll be put in any of the press, but Jason said we have to dress up anyway.”

“What! I didn’t bring anything!”

“Jason took care of that.”

January

We reached our rooms at ten in the morning and I was only slightly freaking out that I could or could not be photographed and might or might not be put into print, immortalized forever as the slob who obviously dressed from a duffel bag for the largest music festival in Europe, but Tom assured me that Jason had that all figured out so I decided not to freak out...too much.

“Ready?” Tom asked me as I opened my door to him.

Tom had been acting very strangely, resorting to wearing his hood over his head again and I was slightly concerned at how ice-cold he’d been acting toward me, but I wasn’t going to let this get to me. He would come to me and talk when he was ready.

“Yeah, where are we going?” I asked.

“Here,” he said, handing me a note and a handful of cash before walking off.

I peered down at my hands. “Wait!” I said laughing. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got some business to attend to.”

“Some business to tend to,” I mocked his deep voice. “Sorry little missus, this big man has things to do I wouldn’t tax your tiny lady mind with. I got this.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. Condescending jerk. “It’s nothing to do with the label, January. It’s personal.”

“Oh,” I said. “All right, can I just come with you then?” I asked, grabbing his hand.

“No,” he said, pulling away, wounding me. “Uh,” he said, clearing his throat. “Listen, Jason’s waiting for you.”

“And I take it you don’t need new threads then?”