harder to be a gentleman, part eight
Jun. 4th, 2003 08:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
radiantbabyKey Member: jack, of course
Synopsis: girl meets boy backstage
Rating: PG-13?
Genre: drama, romance?
We pulled up in front of the hotel – The Mondrian on Sunset – having remained pretty silent throughout most of the way there. Our initial conversation still hung in the air, simply floating between us like the remnant smoke from his cigarettes. Both of us obviously wanted to say more, but our reservations stayed us. I wondered to myself if he was as terrified as I was.
“Thank you,” Jack told the valet, tipping him and then leading me into the hotel, still pulling my suitcase behind him.
Once through the door, I was immediately captivated with the architecture. It was surreal, with subtleties of light and gold shimmering all around us. I didn’t have much time to take it all in though, for as soon as we walked through the lobby, we were quickly approached by a group of people who were clearly fans.
“Jack! Jack!” they exclaimed.
I saw him awkwardly reach for his head, almost as if he meant to pull his hat down, but then realized he’d taken it off and it was still in the car.
They quickly crowded around us, shoving various gifts and White Stripes ephemera at him. Jack indulged them, though, signing their wares and taking a few photographs with them. He also engaged in brief conversation with a few of them, while I simply hung back, letting him have his “moment.”
It wasn’t long before he nodded towards me, though, and said, “Well, we really must be going.”
The remaining fans all turned towards me as if seeing me for the first time. I smiled sheepishly at them and they, well, they pretty much just glared back at me.
“Come on then,” he then said, taking my hand and leading me towards the elevators.
Thankfully an elevator arrived quickly. I found myself cringing a bit as I could see through the closing doors the fans madly whispering to one another and pointing at us. It all gave me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Jack simply smiled down at me, still grasping my hand and it swinging between us slightly. “So, I was thinking, once you got settled in we could grab a bite to eat? I mean, I’m sure they fed you on the plane, but…”
“No, that would be great,” I interrupted him.
It was strange; it was as if nothing had happened in the hotel on the way to the elevator -- or at least nothing interesting. He had reacted entirely different about those fans than the ones earlier. He was certainly changeable in his moods. Jack White, Man of Mystery.
Once off the elevator, he led me to his room. It was a rather swanky suite at the end of the hall. “Nice,” I commented, as he used his keycard to get us inside.
“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed, placing my suitcase against the wall in the front room.
“A BMW and all this? Who’d you kill?”
“Oh, just the mainstream,” he laughed, plopping down on the couch. “I left a few drawers open for you in the room if you need to unpack.”
“Thanks,” I replied, moving to put my suitcase in the bedroom, watching him relaxing on the couch, his head laid back.
“They are the ones on the left,” he called out to me.
I was wondering for a moment why he had suddenly stopped being so chivalrous. My question was answered, though, when I turned on the light in the bedroom to see the bed covered in rose petals and vases of other roses dispersed throughout the room.
“Welcome to L.A.,” he whispered, now standing behind me. His quiet approach practically startled me.
I tuned to him, “Jack, you shouldn’t h--….”
He stopped me with a deep, passionate kiss. In fact, it was so deep and sensual, I almost felt my knees buckle. Whatever the reason I was there, I decided at that moment to go ahead and throw fate to the wind and let the tides take me where they may. I knew if anything, things were certainly going to be interesting.
Synopsis: girl meets boy backstage
Rating: PG-13?
Genre: drama, romance?
We pulled up in front of the hotel – The Mondrian on Sunset – having remained pretty silent throughout most of the way there. Our initial conversation still hung in the air, simply floating between us like the remnant smoke from his cigarettes. Both of us obviously wanted to say more, but our reservations stayed us. I wondered to myself if he was as terrified as I was.
“Thank you,” Jack told the valet, tipping him and then leading me into the hotel, still pulling my suitcase behind him.
Once through the door, I was immediately captivated with the architecture. It was surreal, with subtleties of light and gold shimmering all around us. I didn’t have much time to take it all in though, for as soon as we walked through the lobby, we were quickly approached by a group of people who were clearly fans.
“Jack! Jack!” they exclaimed.
I saw him awkwardly reach for his head, almost as if he meant to pull his hat down, but then realized he’d taken it off and it was still in the car.
They quickly crowded around us, shoving various gifts and White Stripes ephemera at him. Jack indulged them, though, signing their wares and taking a few photographs with them. He also engaged in brief conversation with a few of them, while I simply hung back, letting him have his “moment.”
It wasn’t long before he nodded towards me, though, and said, “Well, we really must be going.”
The remaining fans all turned towards me as if seeing me for the first time. I smiled sheepishly at them and they, well, they pretty much just glared back at me.
“Come on then,” he then said, taking my hand and leading me towards the elevators.
Thankfully an elevator arrived quickly. I found myself cringing a bit as I could see through the closing doors the fans madly whispering to one another and pointing at us. It all gave me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Jack simply smiled down at me, still grasping my hand and it swinging between us slightly. “So, I was thinking, once you got settled in we could grab a bite to eat? I mean, I’m sure they fed you on the plane, but…”
“No, that would be great,” I interrupted him.
It was strange; it was as if nothing had happened in the hotel on the way to the elevator -- or at least nothing interesting. He had reacted entirely different about those fans than the ones earlier. He was certainly changeable in his moods. Jack White, Man of Mystery.
Once off the elevator, he led me to his room. It was a rather swanky suite at the end of the hall. “Nice,” I commented, as he used his keycard to get us inside.
“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed, placing my suitcase against the wall in the front room.
“A BMW and all this? Who’d you kill?”
“Oh, just the mainstream,” he laughed, plopping down on the couch. “I left a few drawers open for you in the room if you need to unpack.”
“Thanks,” I replied, moving to put my suitcase in the bedroom, watching him relaxing on the couch, his head laid back.
“They are the ones on the left,” he called out to me.
I was wondering for a moment why he had suddenly stopped being so chivalrous. My question was answered, though, when I turned on the light in the bedroom to see the bed covered in rose petals and vases of other roses dispersed throughout the room.
“Welcome to L.A.,” he whispered, now standing behind me. His quiet approach practically startled me.
I tuned to him, “Jack, you shouldn’t h--….”
He stopped me with a deep, passionate kiss. In fact, it was so deep and sensual, I almost felt my knees buckle. Whatever the reason I was there, I decided at that moment to go ahead and throw fate to the wind and let the tides take me where they may. I knew if anything, things were certainly going to be interesting.
