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Damn. Almost every minute, Gared clicks refresh, but the price seems frozen. Too low. Much too low. Damn! What to do? Gared throws his phone down next to him on the couch and frantically rubs his eyes. Then an idea comes to him.
Gared reaches for his phone again and finds Moritz in his contacts, an old friend from Hanover.
“Hi Moritz, this is Gerrit. Moritz, I need your help.”
“Hey Gerrit. Haven't heard from you in a while. Did something happen?”
“No, no, everything's fine. Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure. Shoot away!”
“I'll send you a link right away. An eBay auction. Can you please bid? I will too.”
“Hang on, I'll take a look.” A short pause. “Wait a minute. Isn't that Chris's guitar?”
“Yes.”
“I think I'm confused. You want me to bid on your friend and singer's guitar. And you want to bid too?”
“Yes,” Gared confirms again, this time a little more impatiently.
“Gerrit, your sense of humor has always been special, but this is…”
“It's for a good cause. Just read the auction text.”
Another short pause.
“I understand,” Moritz says hesitantly. “Or not.”
“The guitar means a lot to Chris. Chamäleon Studios means a lot to him. I want to help him.”
“And what exactly are you trying to achieve here?”
“The price is way too low. It's a one-of-a-kind piece! It cost 5,000 euros back then.”
Moritz whistles. “That's quite a hefty price. No wonder people aren't just bidding casually. I certainly can't afford it.”
“It's a one-of-a-kind piece,” Gared repeats. “You don't have to. All you have to do is help me drive up the price and, if possible, make the final bid. I'll give you the money.”
“So that Chris doesn't realize you're involved,” Moritz states.
“Exactly.”
“And why are you doing this?”
“Because I want to help Chris, as I already told you.”
“No offense, but why don't you just give him the money?”
“Because he'd never accept it. He's far too proud. And stubborn,” Gared adds.
“Very noble of you. Even though Chris probably makes more money than you, judging by your stories, as busy as he is.”
“That's true,” Gared admits. “I just want to make him happy. And I know it would break his heart if the guitar went for so little.”
Moritz sighs. “You're crazy. Spending so much money just to make your singer happy. A bar of chocolate might have done the trick.”
“You don't know Chris very well,” Gared giggles. “It takes at least a like or a comment from Per Gessle of Roxette to make him truly happy.”
“Hmm,” Moritz says. “Tough case, isn't it?”
“Actually, not. Chris always thinks of everyone else first, he always does so much. For others, for me...” Gared trails off, thinking that he wouldn't be in the position today to even consider spending 5,000 euros on a guitar if Chris hadn't taken him under his wing back then, over 15 years ago. Given him the chance to realize his dream of becoming a professional musician. A dream that young Gerrit had essentially already given up on. “I owe him a lot.”
“Okay, I think I get it,” Moritz says. “And what if someone else ends up making the highest bid?”
“Even better,” Gared laughs. “Then I would have saved money and Chris would still be happy. I guess that's what you call a win-win situation. But somehow I hope we succeed, so Marie will stay in the family. Chris has lost a guitar before. Many years ago, he sold it because he needed the money. Years later, he wanted to buy it back, but the buyer at the time wouldn't let it go. That really upset Chris, and I don't want that to happen again.”
“Marie? You musicians seem to be truly married to your instruments. And to each other, it seems.”
“That's right,” Gared confirms, ignoring the slight dig. “The auction ends in five hours, we'll do our best. Set a timer or something.”
“Do you have a limit? As far as I know, you're not a millionaire yet.”
“If I do this more often, I will probably never be one,” Gared remarks dryly. “I don't know, I haven't even thought about it, to be honest. But with all due respect, it doesn't have to be more than 8,000.”
“I can see you're determined,” Moritz sighs. “Will you tell him?”
“Absolutely not! At least not now. Maybe I'll surprise him with it in a few years. I'm already curious to see his face.” Gared has to smile when he thinks about it.
“You can count on me, Gerrit. This seems really important to you. Although I have to be honest, what you're planning is pretty... well, more than just a favor. I think.”
“Leave it, Moritz,” Gared waves off.
"You must know what you're doing. You're old enough, after all," Moritz replies. "Luckily, Chris doesn't know me, so there shouldn't be any problems."
In fact, Chris had no real contact with Gared's circle of friends from his hometown; they were two completely different worlds. "Thanks. I really appreciate it. I'll buy you a beer the next time I visit my parents."
"If you still have money for it, I'd love to," Moritz jokes.
"Should be enough for one, at least. See you soon!"
"Hey Gared, you won't believe this!" Chris comes towards him, beaming with joy and waving his cell phone around, as Gared enters the Lost Place that evening. "Marie raised over 5,000 euros!"
"How awesome!" Gared beams. Chris's laugh is so contagious, he can't help it.
"6,666 euros, to be exact. Isn't that crazy?"
"Very," Gared grins contentedly. "That person must be crazy to spend that much money on your guitar."
"It was pretty weird. Nothing happened for days, even earlier it wasn't even halfway there, and then, right before the end, all of a sudden: Boom!" Chris throws his arms up theatrically. "Three people had a real battle, I really couldn't believe it."
"Wow!" Gared has to restrain himself from grinning too broadly, but it's so good to see Chris's joy and relief so clearly. But it was indeed more difficult than expected when another bidder joined in at the end. "YES!" Gared practically screamed when the auction ended and Moritz sent him a thumbs-up message.
"That's funny," says Chris, tapping away on his phone. "The buyer is from Hanover. You don't happen to have anything to do with this?" he asks amusedly, blinking at Gared over the top of his glasses. Of course, Chris is joking, but Gared's heart still feels like it skips a few beats, only to start beating even faster. The fact that he feels a blush creeping up his face doesn't make things any better.
"Yeah, right, I'm the only person from Hanover," he replies quickly, laughing. "Of course, I would definitely pay such an exorbitant sum just so I don't have to listen to your amateurish strumming anymore. I'd better just buy all your guitars and burn them."
Chris laughs again. His hearty laugh makes his face look even more attractive than it already is.
"We can also bury them. Together with Nora."
“You don't dare!” Gared grins, gently punching him on the shoulder. “Seriously, I'm glad it went so well.”
“Me too.” Chris's brown eyes suddenly look almost a little wistful. “But I already miss her. Stupid, right?”
“No, not at all,” Gared counters. “I miss Nora too, although she's still here, of course. You know how much your present meant to me back then, right? The thoughts you put into it?”
Chris clears his throat. “Yes, I know. But I'm just not good with feelings, so come on, Gared, before we both start crying, let's get to work.”
“Is that why you work so much, so you don't have to talk about feelings?” Gared asks with a wink, but in all seriousness.
“You always have to put your finger in the wound, don't you?” Chris complains. “And then rub salt in it too.”
“And salt isn't even that healthy.”
“Let's have a toast then. And then we can finally get to work.”
“You really can't unwind, can you?”
“That is unwinding for me.”
“I know,” sighs Gared. “I'll go get the drinks.”
“Cheers!” They clink their bottles before plopping down on the sofa. “To Marie!”
They both take a sip. Chris looks at Gared thoughtfully. “Thanks, Gared.”
“For what?”
“Oh, just because.”