Don't Blame Me for Being Me

Chapter 32
Don't be so scared, we will not lead you on like you've been doing for weeks (a simple question, kid, “are you with me or not at all?”)
Dasha and me woke up somewhere at 12 a.m. We took showers, dressed, gathered our stuffs packing them into our cases and sat on edges of beds.
“We must go to boys”, I told Dasha cowardly.
“To be honestly I’m funking”, Dasha replied.
“Me too. Just slightly”, I said.
“They probably bit our door all over”, Dasha giggled.
“Yeah, and scratched it”, I added with a smile. “Let’s go”.
We sighed deeply and went out of our room. Then we came to the first room boys had taken. But we didn’t know exactly where Pete and Joe were. I knocked. After a minute the door opened. We saw a crumpled face of Patrick.
“Hey!” we expressed gladness.
“Uhuh”, he muttered. “Come in”, he let us to get into the room.
There was no Joe or Pete, but Travis and Spence.
“How do you feel yourselves?” we asked them.
As for Travis, he looked to be awaked and dressed for a long time ago and he was lying on a couch. Spence was on a balcony breathing a fresh air. And when Dasha and me came in, he run to another room to put on some pants.
“Fine!” Travis exclaimed answering our question.
“Say for yourself”, Patrick groaned and crashed on another couch touching his forehead. “My head’s just splitting”.
“May be it’s because of that you were knocking by it on our door last night?” Dasha smirked.
“I didn’t knock. But you could open”, he replied.
“Uhuh. To let you all destroy our hotel room? And, dude, you were only 6 drunken adult men. You were giving us much scare by knocking and shouting. For what the fuck we should open?” I said.
“But we were your acquaintance men”, Travis noticed.
“Drunken you are not our well-known acquaintances yet”, I stated.
“Joe and Pete were weeping under the door and you… bitches. For stores and boutiques you need them, and when they need just to be opened, you don’t wanna see them”, Pat was nattering like old maid :D.
“And we’re friends and mates only for drinking, I see. Not for opening doors”, we heard Spence’s voice from another room.
“I can’t get what YOU wanted. I guess what Joe and Pete wanted, but you…”, Dasha said being surprised.
“Conversation, warmth, affection”, Spence yelled with throbbing voice.
“I don’t know. Just not to open a door isn’t a good manner”, Patrick replied. “By the way, agreeing to come here, I’ve agreed to have so-much-promised girls and clubs. Where are they?”
They were making us feel shame as well.
“May be you thought last night you’d see a club with naked girls in our room?” Dasha asked him.
“I exactly know two ones were there!” Spence yelled.
“Ugh, Spence, you’re fucking pervert! Shame of you!” Dasha and me yelled to him.
“Know what, guys? You had a real fun yesterday? You had a bust? It was awesome? You didn’t get bored?” I made a pause. “Have any questions? No. Get up. We’ll go for a walk soon”, I said.
Dasha and me went out of their room and made our way to the second room. It was for sure Pete and Joe were there. As soon as we wanted to knock, the door got opened and we saw Pete, then Joe and Andy, then the bodyguard behind.
“Oh…and we’re coming to you”, I said with a shivering voice.
“Really nice to hear”, Joe smirked.
I let his irony pass by. Joe walked out of the room and stood in a corridor ignoring us.
“Hi”, Pete greeted us gloomy.
“You’re going in or out?” Andy asked ‘cause we all made a pile in a doorway.
Pete let Andy and the bodyguard go out, and they two went away. I leaned against a wall staring at Trohman. I was thinking of what to say and if he said something to me. Dasha pretended she was just passing by and had nothing common with us. Pete was indifferently standing in the doorway.
“If you wanna apologize, it’s a right time”, I said eventually.
“I have nothing to apologize for”, Trohman replied.
My eyes grew wide.
“Really? So it wasn’t you who were banging on the door last night?” I said with an irony.
“It was us. Sorry. We were drunk. This matter is closed”, Pete said.
“Um…it’s fine…let’s go for walk…somewhere around the city…I know some new places for you”, I said.
“We’re ready”, Pete said and locked the door of their room.
We picked up the rest of guys and went out of the hotel. As everybody was hungry, we went to eat to a restaurant named “Yolki-Palki”. Another portion of Russian colour for foreign friends :D. You put dishes in your plate yourself from two long tables-waggons, which are standing in centre of a hall of the restaurant. There are also chairs and tables made of oak, waiters and waitresses in national uniforms, dishes of Russian cuisine only. You can fill your stomach for a year! And there’s no limitation in how much food you put on your plate. You pay not for quantity, but for times of coming to the waggon. One time – 4$, two times – doubled high price and etc. One waggon is with salads and hors d’oeuvres, another one is with second courses, kinds of meat and etc. Dishes from the second waggon cost 6$. So, it’s advantageously to be able to put the most of food you wanna in your plate at once. When I explained it to our company, I saw their eyes began shining from a wish to save some money :D. We all decided not to rush to the waggons by all company and divided into two parts. Andy, Patrick, Travis and me were first. Andy came to choosing dishes thoroughly. He was torturing me and servers by questions about ingredients of salads or whatever. Finally we four were done and sat down at our table to eat. And the second part went to put their plates. Eventually we all were at the table eating and talking. But there was no hints and chats about last night’s (to be exactly, today’s) matter with knocking. For drinking we booked kvass. Boys hadn’t tasted it yet. Then Spence said he wanted more than one plate and went for another helping. He asked Dasha to assist or advice. So they went and after a few minutes we heard a sound of hitting plate and a squeezed laugh. We saw that Spence dropped his plate with everything he has put at it :D. We laughed ‘cause in addition his pants were stained with some potatoes, mayonnaise, sauce :D. Dasha was standing near him being bent and laughing with no sound. We all being at the table were laughing too. Somebody was laughing settling back, somebody – staring at his own plate. But I could walk to Dasha and Spence and called a waiter for help. Cleaners began their work :D. Spence was given another plate. I put some food there. Spence walked to W.C. to wash his stained pants. Dasha and me returned to our places. Dasha crashed on her chair saying “Spence!” joyfully. I was tapping the table laughing and couldn’t keep my fork :D. The rest of guys was already calming down, but there was new wave of laugh when Spence came back with wet pants he’d tried to wash. Dasha and me were just pointing at wet spots on his pants and laughing with no sound. Everybody began making “advises” to Spence.
“It’s the point greediness leads to”, Pete said with irony.
“You spoiled your stylish pants”, I chuckled.
“Mayonnaise!”, Dasha could tell and laughed again.
“Spence, I didn’t think you’re so stingy”, Pat smiled.
“If the food didn’t get in the plate why the hell you were putting so much?” Trohman said.
“The plate was…slippery”, that was the only Spence could think as good explanation for himself :D.
“The floor is slippery now”, Travis smirked.
Well, that dropping was the main event of that day and reason for jokes.
After eating we had a little walking and then came back in the hotel by taxi. There we packed our cases and went to an airport. Tickets have been booked before, in America.
Trohman didn’t take a seat next to me notwithstanding me persuading and my tearful requests :D. His seat was in a row from me. I was sitting between Andy and some bald-headed and fat man which was very inconvenient that to pass him by and walk out. Patrick, Dasha and Pete were sitting in front of us. Spence and Travis were somewhere behind. I wanted to speak with Trohman very much. I’d been surprised and …I dunno…glad(?) of his drunken wish to come in my room. But I worried why he was ignoring me after and thinking he doesn’t must apologize. I’d like to send him a message but mobiles don’t work in the air. So I had to act by old and reliable way. I pull out a pen and notebook from my handbag, tore a sheet from the notebook and began thinking what to write. So I created the next – “Are you ignoring me?”. I folded the note in two and asked Pat to give it Joe. He smiled and committed my ask. After a minute he turned to me.
“He asks for a pen. He has nothing”, Pat said about Trohman.
I gave my pen. Pat gave it to Joe. I was waiting for reply looking at seat of Trohman. Soon Pat gave my note back with Trohman’s answer. Probably, he was writing it on his lap or another palm ‘cause that poor sheet was torn as well. But his answer was just another question – “I have reasons?” “Fucking jerk. Sure, you have. I didn’t let you in and get what you wanted”, I insulted him in thoughts. I had to take another sheet and find another pen ‘cause Trohman didn’t give back mine. So I wrote – “sitting by the door you had. You said I insulted you as a man. And now you make me think it’s my fault you knocked on my door being drunk”. I asked Pat to give it to Joe again. After some minutes I got his answer – “may be. But it doesn’t matter now. Really”. I wrote to him again – “it’s because intoxication passed? Nice man you are, Joseph Trohman!” Pat gave that note to Trohman but he gave back only my pen and nothing more. I shrugged off and preferred to speak with Patrick. And after some time I began reading some magazine with Andy. Then I got tired and had a slight slumber but still wishing to have a conversation with Joe.