The blonde guitarist didn’t make it back to the hotel from the party until 1 a.m. He bypassed everyone’s eyes and headed to a bar in the suburbs. It wasn’t until after he drank that "special drink" that he truly felt sober again. At this moment, he hadn’t yet had the time to remove the heavy stage makeup, and Tommy could clearly feel all the eyes from every direction fixed on his pretty face. And he obviously didn’t like being the center of attention.
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Just like prey.
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As soon as he entered the room, he quickly removed the makeup from his face, changed into a loose bathrobe, and took a rare moment to gaze at the view from the 20th floor.His eyes eventually landed on two men two streets away from the hotel. Based on his intuition, he was certain they were up to something shady. The blond man didn’t want to waste time eavesdropping on their conversation, so he simply drew the curtains. He let himself sink into the soft bed, closed his eyes, and shut out all the sensations of the outside world, relishing a rare moment of solitude.
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He had successfully made it through another day. Life among humans was truly busy, always full, and never allowed a moment of rest.
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Tommy glanced at the time on his phone and sighed at how long the nights always seemed. He took out a crystal glass from the cabinet, along with a bottle of whiskey he had requested earlier from the front desk, and quietly sat on the edge of the bed, drinking himself and thinking about how he might spend his free moments between tour stops.
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He slowly exhaled, the visible white breath and the temperature displayed on the air conditioner’s panel both hinting at how different this man was from ordinary people.
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A sudden, urgent knock on the door shattered the good mood he had just built. For a split second, his brown pupils flashed a terrifying dark red.
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Tommy reluctantly walked to the door; he knew exactly who was disturbing him again.
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