“I know you,” he smiled. That smile could start wars, Rory thought. Something inside of her leapt at standing so close to him. The sheer strength of his body overwhelmed her as he towered over her.

“Do you?” Rory’s hand instinctively went to straighten her hair.

“Didn’t expect to find you here,” Arsen said as he shut the door to the room behind him.

“I can say the same for you,” Rory smiled. “I’d think that you’d be out there, partying away.” She nodded toward the window, through which muted noises from the festivities filtered in.

“Why would I do that?” Arsen asked her, with a deathly serious look.

“I don’t know. Isn’t that what rockstars are supposed to do?”

“But I’m no rockstar. If I recall what Mickey said a few hours back, I am just the ‘damn guitar player’ in his band.” Arsen was trying to laugh it off in a sarcastic way, but Rory knew this was no joke to him. She stayed silent, not sure what to say.

“Wine?” Arsen asked, after he had already poured out two glasses for them. “Here’s to us lowly guitar players.” He raised a toast after handing Rory her glass. Both of them walked silently to the window to look upon the celebration and the people who seemed to be having a great time.

“You’re right. I should be out there having the time of my life. I mean, how fortunate am I to live in this mansion and do the kinds of things that I have the privilege of doing? Not many people get so lucky.”

They both stared out in contemplative silence before Rory spoke up.

“Definitely too lucky for a bartender,” she smiled.

“You and Don have been gossiping, I see.” He smiled back.

“A little bit, yes,” she said, with a guilty smile.

“It was just a job I took when I moved to LA. It can be pretty overwhelming at first, that big city of dreams. I was naive then. The thought of paying my rent and worrying about food and shelter used to scare me to death.” Arsen’s voice was soft, contemplative, as if a movie of his past was running through his head.

Tell me about it, Rory thought as reminders of her own struggles appeared in her head.

“I don’t know if I could do it again if I had to. It still surprises me that I went through so much for this dream… but I guess we all are foolish in our youth.” He smiled.

“Or brave. Do you really think that we all could go through hardships and end up at the top? Heck, I’m an LA native and even I still find the city intimidating. So much so that I ran away to the safe shelter of Montcove.” Rory had never admitted it to anyone, not even to herself at times, and somehow she was telling it to Arsen.

“Everything is supposed to be so perfect in that city. The people, the restaurants, the cars, the… everything. I mean how do you compete with that? It’s difficult to hold yourself up to those standards.”

“I know what you’re saying, Rory. I liked to think of myself as a pretty confident guy, till I set foot in LA. I remember my first gig at The Troubadour in Santa Monica. I threw up right when I was about to go on stage. I thought everyone would hate me and laugh at my ’70s sense of style.”

“But they didn’t, and now here you are.” Rory raised her glass.

“I guess I got lucky.”

“Or did you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you stuck to your beliefs, right? You dressed how you wanted and stuck to the kind of music that you wanted to play and people accepted you as you are because you’re genuine. You didn’t try to fit in with what was in fashion or make the kind of music that was in vogue and rightly so, you got your reward.”

“For someone who doesn’t listen to my music, you seem to be well aware.” Arsen raised a brow.

“Well, the internet is a magical thing,” Rory smirked, not revealing anything more, leaving Arsen to wonder about it on his own.

“Maybe you’re right,” Arsen said after a few moments. “Maybe they accepted me ‘cause I stuck to my guns. But it is no fun bleeding for your dreams, I tell you. I remember going to sleep hungry at night. That, most certainly, is not fun.” He was trying to joke about it, but Rory could tell that the thought still gave him nightmares.

“And now you are here at this wonderful party, in this lovely villa and it is all about you. Isn’t that a great rags-to-riches story?” Rory clinked his glass and Arsen smiled in return.

“Quite a motivational speaker, aren’t you?”

“Hardly,” she replied. A motivational speaker who can’t set her own life straight.

“I was feeling pretty blue since this morning. The usual band troubles… you know. That’s the reason why I’m not out there. I was afraid I’d end up getting into a fight with Mickey. But talking to you has made me forget the color blue. Thank you for that.”

Arsen lifted her hand and turned it over, kissing the palm of her hand softly. Rory was not expecting it and neither was her body. An unexpected jolt went through her as Arsen’s soft lips and coarse stubble caressed her fingers gently. She froze in place and felt that now-familiar heat come alive in her. He raised his eyes and looked right at her, a smile slowly spreading on his face. Does he know what I’m feeling?

Rory was sure that her face was flushed, but she instantly tried to compose herself and change the topic. Thankfully, she didn’t need to.

“And what about you? What is it that you are willing to struggle for?” Arsen asked.

His question took her by surprise. After all, it was not a question that she was asked often. Rory stared out into oblivion as she thought of how to answer such a question. A part of her was tempted to unload all of her troubles on him and tell him of all the problems and the worries that she lived with on a daily basis.

But she looked up at him and Arsen was staring at her with a calm, content look in his eye. He looked like a man who was happy in the current moment. Much unlike the weary man she had met on that rainy night.

She was tempted to confess all of her troubles and fears. After all, he won’t be around tomorrow to remind me of this. But she couldn’t get herself to do that. Not when he stood there so happy and content.

“I’ve got nothing to struggle for,” she replied finally.

“Of course. Pretty girls have nothing to struggle for. They have it easy,” he joked. Although a part of her took offense at his assumption that it all came easy to her, Rory could not help but focus on the fact that he had once again referred to her as pretty. This time she decided to confront him.

“You live in LA. You’ve probably had affairs with countless actresses, models, singers, and whoever else. You are constantly surrounded by some of the most beautiful women in this world and you are calling me pretty?”

Arsen just smiled a knowing smile. The question didn’t bother him like it may have other men. Neither did it put him on the defensive.

“Beauty is not just about what is out here…” He caressed her face gently with the outside of his hand, sliding it slowly down to her chin. “But about what is in there.” He tapped twice on her heart with his knuckles and stared straight into her eyes. If there was a doubt in her mind about his words, she didn’t feel it because in that moment, staring into the eyes of one of the biggest rockstars in the world, Rory knew that what he just said was not a lie.

“Tell me you have not felt one spark and I will call you a liar,” he continued in a low voice, taking steps that took him closer to her, sending a chill of awareness down her back.

“Tell me you don’t see what I see in your eyes in mine, and I will call your bluff. Ever since that morning, when you walked into that living room of yours, where I had slept the night… I have only had eyes for you. Could you not see it?”

When did our faces come so close together, Rory thought. Unlike how it happened in romantic films, she couldn’t feel his breath. But there was a heat between their bodies. His fists were clenched and Rory knew that he was itching to grab her in his arms. Rory knew that she wouldn’t stop him if he did. Dear God. He’s right. There is not just a spark but a whole damn explosion waiting to happen between us. Rory, just get out of this room. You don’t need this.

His body inched closer to hers and his hands unclenched, rising up to hold her by the arms. Rory ordered herself to move, but her body stayed still. No words were necessary. She could see what he meant; all she had to do was look in his eyes and in this breathless moment, they were mirrors that reflected her own affection.

Finally she felt his breath on her skin. His lips were a whisker away from hers and she felt thunder strike her heart. As she opened the eyes she had closed unknowingly, she heard the sound of someone opening the door. From the corner of her eye, she saw the tall blonde Tanya Cox striding right in.

“There you are, Arsen. We’ve been looking all over for you.”

Arsen let go of Rory’s hands slowly.

“For what?” he said without turning around.

“You forgot? I knew you would.” She smiled at him. “We’re supposed to shoot a segment for my reality show featuring you guys, remember? Can we get started with that already?”

“Do we have to do it now?” Arsen raised his voice.

“Not unless you no longer want promotion for your upcoming tour.” She stood with her arms crossed. What a snotbag, Rory thought to herself.

“Can’t this wait?” Arsen turned around.

“We have waited enough, Arsen. Haven’t you had enough ‘distractions’ for the day?” Tanya glanced slyly at Rory.

Through the corner of her eye, Rory saw Don enter the room.

“Oh, you found him. Arsen, let’s go shoot this thing. Mickey and the boys are ready out there and you know how it is. Once Mickey gets high he won’t be good for any work.”

Arsen turned to Rory.

“You gonna be okay?” His face had a disappointed look.

“Of course. I’ll be fine. You go do your job.” She tried to smile but failed.

“I won’t be long.” She was tempted to hold him back, tempted to tell him to stay, but couldn’t. For a moment Arsen hesitated, as if he wanted to lean in and kiss her, but he didn’t.

Rory knew that Arsen didn’t want to go. He had held onto her hand for as long as possible. Something that made Tanya Cox frown. If she didn’t despise the woman earlier, Rory now did with all of her heart.

This was the most romantic thing that had ever happened to her. The tension between them was unbearable and her heart was beating like it never had before. It seemed unreal somehow.

Rory sat down on the sofa and took a deep breath as the adrenaline left her body. She downed the glass of wine in one go and tried to calm her nerves. After the happiness of that moment faded, all that was left was a pain. The pain of longing, the pain of his absence. This terrible feeling of being alone in this silent room.

Then the reality of the situation dawned on her.

Why did it feel so empty without Arsen? How could I have let him penetrate my defense mechanism and get into my soul? If his leaving the room makes me so sad, what would I be like when he leaves Montcove? I can’t afford to do this. Not right now.

Rory knew that this moment was never coming back. This was a goodbye party and tomorrow morning Insurrection were going to leave Montcove. She had come here to say goodbye to her friend Arsen, but now that the spark between them had truly caught fire, the last thing she wanted to do was part. But like everything else in life, here as well, she did not have a choice. She had to let him go.