Life as a Dreamer.

When Jeannie meets the well-known and recognized mucisian, Lucas, she has absolutely no clue about the consequences of his company. As their relationship develop, she is forced to deal with everything in Lucas' life and soon she cannot tell his and her own life apart. The true dangers of mind-twisting games, fame, alchohol, forbidden love and drugs are displayed in these pages, written by Jeannie, which may be diary-entries, may be letters. You'll find out. Or maybe you already know.

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4. ★ 3.

20:00 – 21:00

After the last notes of the bands final song had died out, Lucas wished the audience a “continuingly good night” and added “; I know it will be for me”. I left my friends thereafter; butterflies terrorizing my stomach as I made my way back to the tree were it all began.

Lucas was a natural performer, and oh my, looking at the girls in the audience, I wasn’t the only one who had been seduced by his heartmelting smile and smooth voice. You could see it on their faces. All of them were under the unbreakable spell of his sky-blue eyes. I took a deep breath, allowing the fresh air to cleanse my lungs and my mind for a tiny moment. My hands were shaking with suppressed excitement and expectations which made it really difficult for me to light my cigarette. I didn’t get to fumble with my lighter for very long before a match was stricken behind me and a blazer-covered arm reached around my neck and lit the cigarette between my lips. I could feel the sparkling tensions of his presence and his warm breath caressing my hair.
“So, your girlfriends looked extremely startled,”
Lucas grinned as he pulled away and shook the match. I turned around to face him, wondering if it actually was possible that he looked even more beautiful and angelic than I remembered him.
“Don’t get too cocky now,”
I croaked and shot a wry smile at him, trying not to get lost in his eyes.
“They’ve never had a drink with a celebrity before?”
He joked; the sarcasm in his voice cutting clearly through the act of arrogance.
“Well, not with anyone as unknown as you,”
I snapped back at him. I actually liked this ping-pong we had going, although it seemed so natural to him. He was smart and quick on his words, which made me wonder about his age.
“Woah, that’s tough, coming from a – how old are you?”
“17.”
“17-year old! You know, you’re not even allowed to be smoking this,”
he teased on and removed the distance between us by taking a confident step , quickly but at the same time demanding nabbing the cigarette from between my fingers. Instead he placed it between his own lips and took a hiss. Inches parted us. My gaze was grounded in embarrassment until he softly grabbed me by the chin and tilted my head slightly upwards, forcing me to look into his eyes. Without a word being shared between us, still holding my chin between his thumb and index finger, he now placed the cigarette between my lips while still holding onto it. I took a hiss. The right corner of his lips tilted upwards as I did. My heart melted.
“Let’s go,”
he ordered and released me from his strings, yet I was automatically dragged after him as he turned around and started walking.

★ 20:30

After minutes of conversationless waiting and walking, finally, we sat down outside the extremely crowded and cloudy bar-tent with a couple of ice-cold beers. Oh, and it wasn’t even a regular bar-tent. I had underrated Lucas’ fame after all. The band had access to a starfilled VIP-area where only the performing artists of the festival + their guests were allowed. From our spot in the empty end of the luxurious outdoor lounge we could stalk every present VIP-guest, but I wasn’t even curious since Lucas was the absolute center of my attention. Our walk should have been filled with the mandatory round of questioning, but instead we had walked in silence and shared the cigarette. It had been quite nice actually. The kind of nice that cannot be defined; just like the reason why I love to stand, eyes closed, in the pouring rain and face the sky - undefinable.

For a moment we just sat there – or, I sat there while he watched me with slightly narrowed eyes and curled lips. I glanced down at the table before us, trying to escape whatever judge he was planting on me. I’ve always hated to be defined by someone who doesn’t know me.
“I hate this place,”
he stated and glanced towards a smaller group of black-wearing musicians.
“Honestly, I can’t see why,”
I commented, slightly surprised by his hipster-ish: ‘Luxury is too mainstream’-attitude.
“No, I’m sure you can’t,”
he sighed with a touch of either disappointment or longing to his voice. Once again his gaze turned towards the group. I shot a glance over my left shoulder, starting to feel slightly uncomfortable since Lucas’ sudden change of mood.
“Who are they?”
I asked, probably a bit too nosey.
“Contacts.”
His answer was short and a bit too rushed, as if he was covering up a truth. His gaze captured my eyes, reassuring that I was still lost in his spell. As he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, he licked his lips while his thoughts flashed by behind his eyes.
“Do you enjoy games, Jeannie?”
he asked, the playfulness in his voice being crystal clear and provoking, causing tensions in the muscles of my thighs.
“Probably not as much as you do,”
I grinned nervously, while watching him wide-eyed as he flashed his teeth in a crooked smile and let out a satisfied grunt.
“Let’s test your math skills then, shall we?”
he continued, his smile widening as he saw the stunned expression on my face. Math wasn’t exactly what I had had in mind.

“A band, obviously a lot more successful than mine, earns 23.000.000 pounds on its concerts. They also earn 7.045.334 on merchandise but spent 4.789.222 pounds on the set-up. What is the profit?”

I must’ve looked about as clueless as a blind mouse, as he explained, but that wasn’t related to the math-riddle. He was a riddle. A tough one.
“Uh.. 25.256.112 pounds?”
I guessed after a short while, shrugging as if I didn’t care, but an ocean of questions drowning my thoughts.
“25.256.112,”
he repeated, confirming my guess with a soft nod of his head.
“So… Is that a code for something? The amount of girls you’ve slept with? Or the amount of microseconds before you leave me here,”
I stuttered slightly desperate, being even more frustrated as his facial expression didn’t change a bit. Still gorgeous, clean, calm eyes and slightly merry lips. By then, I realized what I had just said:
“I am so sorry, Lucas, I-“
“Looks like someone has a bit of prejudices of her own,”
he replied coldly and smooth, raising a brow as he did. I was about to apologize again, but since he rose to his feet and took a step towards me, I decided to let it go and just stare down at the grass like any other 17-year old mediocre fool would’ve. He got down on one knee and placed a hand on my thight.
“25.256.112 is a number in a game, Jeannie. Your innocent little head can’t even imagine the mindgames I could play with you, if I wanted to,”
 he comforted me in a threatening tone of voice. How could comfort be threatening?! How could threads be comforting?! His blue eyes were glowing with authority and superiority. I nodded. He had me.
“Now, let’s get you calmed down, alright?”
He finished and determined grabbed me by the wrist, pulling me up from the chair. He placed a guiding hand on my back and led me towards the group of men, also known as his “contacts”.

“Guys,”
Lucas shouted. I was ambiguous as I was stirred towards these black-hooded men. Even though I knew that Lucas was no good, I couldn’t hide myself from the fascination of this gorgeous devilish creature.

 

21:00 

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