Nonstop Oslo: A Fan's Fantasy Tale

By Marie Nadine Gaston

Vivienne Bernard has been in love with Eureka front man, Logen Anders, since she was twenty. The band’s global success has been phenomenal, garnering them millions of adoring fans worldwide. While every girl professes her love for the handsome trio from Norway, Vivienne knows that what she feels for Logen is different, but given the unlikelihood of their meeting, Logen remains a distant and unfulfilled yearning.

Thirty years later, Vivienne travels thousands of miles from her Caribbean home to the land of the Vikings to attend a Eureka concert. Her chance encounter with a handsome but exasperating stranger has her temper flaring. The adventure of a lifetime begins when she realizes that the stranger she’d like to murder is none other than the object of her lifelong desire: Logen Anders.

During her four-day stay in beautiful Norway, Logen awakens feelings in Vivienne she thought she would never experience again. Nonstop Oslo takes her on a journey of emotional and sexual awakening, while offering Logen the unexpected gift of a second chance. Though he admires Vivienne’s fierce independence, his ultimate desire is to protect, carry, and cherish the woman who has turned his world upside-down.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Sep 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665728867

Marie Nadine Gaston

Marie Nadine Gaston was born and raised in Haiti. She obtained a bachelor’s from the University of Miami and spent the first decade of her professional life in South Florida caring for the mentally ill. She returned home years later to do communications work with international development organizations supporting impoverished communities. Nadine is a hopeless romantic and avid reader of historical romances. She is the mother of two beautiful girls and currently lives in Haiti.

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Copyright © 2022 Marie Nadine Gaston.

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without the written permission of the author except in the case

of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents,

organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products

of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing

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ISBN: 978-1-6657-2885-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-2886-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022915425

Archway Publishing rev. date: 09/06/2022

Contents

Day 1   Here We Go

Day 2   The Sweetest Symphony

Day 3   Common Ground

Day 4   Naked Souls

Day 5   Until We Meet Again

Reunited

A Date with Destiny

This book is dedicated to my daughters,

Laura-Ashley and Stacie Alexandra,

God’s precious gifts,

my two reasons for getting up every morning and

mustering up the courage to face the day.

To my mother, Marie Denise, my potomitan,

for instilling values that guide my actions

every second of every hour of every day.

In memory of my late father, Serge L. Gaston,

for his immense love and for making me

the independent woman that I am today. May he rest in peace.

To my brothers Dimitri and Ricardo, through time

and distance, blood is thicker than water.

To all my friends and family who supported and

encouraged me and made me believe

that this story was worth sharing.

To my dearest Ronald for giving me the gentle

push that got me across the finish line.

I thank you all with all my heart.

Inspired by a deep admiration and huge crush on

Norwegian pop star Morten Harket and the fervent

desire to explore and break out from the over-the-top

die-hard femme forte persona and the debilitating sexual

and emotional hang-ups that plague my existence.

Though you are a thousand miles away

My heart knows no distance

Though your land is foreign to me

My heart knows no language

When Despair beckons

Time and time again

My mind runs to you

My blessed Sanctuary

A resting place for a weary heart

And though we may never meet

My heart belongs to you

My sweet, sweet solace

Soothing salve for my battle wounds

Still, I know I should not love you

But I love you just the same

Forever on my mind

Entrenched in my soul

Forever part of me

My sweetest desire

-Vivienne

2:00 AM

Another sleepless night

Day 1

Here We Go

V ivienne closed her eyes to still the growing excitement inside her. Twenty more minutes and the plane would touch down at Oslo Airport at Gardermoen. A trip thirty years in the making. A dream, an aspiration of sorts, ever since Norway’s favorite sons burst onto the American music scene and put their country on the map for all lovestruck teenage girls who never gave a hoot about geography. Ever since she saw his face in a music video and fancied herself like that girl, Bernie Bingsley, who captured his heart against all odds. Logen Anders, an outstanding vocalist, a magnificent specimen of a man with an angel’s voice, teamed up with the musician-songwriter, the illustrious Terje Flågen, and his genius songwriting childhood friend, the venerable Erling Gamst-Anderssen. Adored by thousands of fans around the world. Her fantasy love.

Ja, vi elsker dette landet—the first Norwegian words she’d learned in an attempt to enter their world. A hymn to a country much admired for its civility, for its culture of peace and brotherhood. A country rocked, a few years before, by an appalling act of terrorism at home by one of its own, an inexplicable occurrence, the likes of which they would hopefully never see again. The world had mourned for Norway. At least she had. As a stranger looking in, it felt to Vivienne like an ideal had been shattered. Norway had a particular relationship with her own country, sharing its conflict-resolution experience with this small Caribbean island halfway across the planet, skills that her compatriots certainly needed if they were going to break the cycle of violence that they’d been stuck in for decades. It seemed painfully ironic to her, upon hearing the news, that a country that promoted peace would suffer such violence at home. On a much smaller and personal scale, Vivienne dared to feel a little like this country. An ideal of hers had been shattered too, though perhaps not as grand or as noble. And refusing to be bitter, she’d reached into the recesses of her dream world to believe in happy endings again. This country would help her believe in love and passion again, of that she was stubbornly and inexplicably certain. And in a short while, she would walk the streets of Oslo.

Maneuvering through the Oslo Airport was surprisingly hassle-free. Vivienne was afraid that her very limited to nonexistent Norwegian would not equip her to deal with immigration and customs agents upon her arrival. But there was none of that as she had come through Paris Charles de Gaulle, her first point of entry on this historic continent. Everyone was kind and welcomed her to Norway in an English heavily laden with the enchanting Nordic accent. This, she felt, was going to be a life-changing trip.

Vivienne quickly followed the panel signs to the Flytoget, the airport express train that would take her on a twenty-five-minute ride to the Oslo Sentralstasjon, a skip and a hop away from the hotel where she would be staying for the next four days. She had expected to cross the streets into the chilly April Norwegian air to make it to the train, but all was conveniently and pleasantly accessible indoors. The train rode mostly underground, rising out into the open air as it approached each station. That is when she admired the Norwegian cityscape while the train sped through the suburbs into the city, amid tall apartment buildings offering a glimpse into residents’ kitchens and living rooms. A small twinge tugged at her heart. She wished she could share this experience with her two daughters, but this was final-exam week at their respective colleges in Florida. So she’d resigned herself to flying solo.

The room at the Comfort Hotel Xpress Central Station was small but surprisingly comfortable, with most of the expected amenities of a larger hotel room. Light gray walls adorned with wooden and metallic paneling bore sturdy hooks to accommodate her clothes. No closets in this room. An interesting concept. The generously sized bed was tempting after such a long trip, but there was too much to do. She was in Oslo. Vivienne pulled open the drawer under her bed and carefully placed her ticket to the Eureka concert she would attend the following evening, one of the last shows of a hugely successful world tour to promote the band’s Set in Stone album, the latest addition to a string of megahits at home and in Europe over the years. That was the reason for this trip. Perhaps the last opportunity to see the boys play at home. After all, they’d bid farewell to their fans six years before with their Aiming for the Moon world tour that culminated in a final concert at home in Oslo. Vivienne recalled how heartbroken she and her daughters, particularly her eldest, had been at the thought of not being able to realize their dream of seeing their favorite band play one last time. But times had been difficult that year after Vivienne had taken her girls out of Haiti following the tragic January 2010 earthquake that killed hundreds of thousands, decimated entire families, and left a nation in mourning. Sitting in that desolate house in Miami, a temporary shelter from the madness back home, Vivienne had known they couldn’t afford Oslo.

Vivienne went to the phone in the lobby and asked the operator to connect her to the Blu Radisson Plaza Hotel. A few of her Eureka Great World Fan Page group buddies were staying there, and they had agreed to meet up to attend tonight’s Eureka fan convention together. Vivienne couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. She’d often read about these yearly fan parties but never thought she would attend one. Joining that group on Facebook two years ago had been a judicious decision in hindsight. It had kept the music and the dream alive and inspired her to arrive at this priceless moment. She had wanted to put some magic into her life, break out of the tedium, and this seemed as good a way as any to do so.

Dressed in freshly pressed white jeans and a baby blue sweater, Vivienne secured her dark brown hair in a ponytail, retouched her lips with her favorite coral lipstick, and made her way down to the hotel lobby. Several guests were just arriving, and Vivienne steered away from the busy lobby and headed for the small barception. A quaint idea, the hotel desk and bar combined in one. Maggie and Rita would be swinging by to pick her up in a few minutes, giving her just enough time to enjoy a glass of red wine on one of the sofa chairs by the large windows that overlooked Fred Olsens Gate. She had never met the ladies in person but was grateful for their company in this beautiful but foreign land.

A sudden buzz around the lobby drew her attention. A small crowd had gathered by the main doors, and flashes of light from eager cameras and cell phones illuminated the room. Vivienne hoisted herself from her chair to see the cause of the commotion. She bobbed her head around trying to catch a glimpse through the narrow spaces that separated the people and thought she recognized the dark-haired man dressed in a vintage dark brown leather jacket. He seemed to be signing autographs for a few avid fans, and suddenly, it dawned on her who he was. It was one half of the Norwegian pop duo known as Kelner. The doctor turned musician and singer. She had recently become acquainted with their music but drew a blank at his name. Lover and I Believe in June were her favorite tunes of theirs.

She wondered for a moment if she should join the crowd for a closer look. Perhaps get an autograph herself. She always carried a small notebook in her bag. That’s what writers do, and she fancied herself one. Without giving herself an opportunity to change her mind, she sprang from her seat and headed for Dr. Kelner. She fished her notebook and pen out of her bag and snaked purposefully through the crowd, firmly parting her way toward the man. She had made it all the way to Oslo, and she’d be damned now if she didn’t make it all the way to him.

In seconds, she stood right before him and found him staring at her. She smiled brightly and handed him her notebook. Please make it out to Vivienne, a newly converted Kelnerist, she told him bravely. He smiled back at her, and taking the pad from her, he asked where she was from. Jeg er fra Haiti, she said in hesitant Norwegian, not really expecting him to know where that was.

Ahhh. He smiled at her effort. Haiti. Fancy leaving that lovely Caribbean weather for a tryst in the cold.

She was taken aback by his audacious and completely arbitrary comment and under different circumstances, might have called him out on it. But she laughed instead. A tryst? I don’t think so. I am here alone.

He chuckled and suddenly leaned in toward her. She stepped back instinctively, wondering what in the world he was doing. A selfie? he asked.

She smiled, feeling rather sheepish. Oh yes, that is what people do now when they meet their favorite stars. A little embarrassed, she quickly fished out her iPhone from her bag. The singer put his arms around her shoulder and drew her face to his so that they were cheek to cheek. With slightly shaking hands, she managed to capture an outstanding photo.

As lovely as you are, that should change rather quickly, he told her.

She stared blankly at him and wondered if she had heard him right. And before turning his attention to his gawking fans, he added, as if in confidence, further confounding her, Lucky fellow.

The crowd converged around him once more and seemed to spit her right out of its fold. Alone again, Vivienne stared after them, dumbfounded, then began to giggle. Well, I’ll be damned, she said to herself. "Jeg elsker dette landet. I do love this country!"

Vivienne? She swung around momentarily at the mention of her name. Oh hello! Maggie? she asked, recognizing her friend from her Facebook picture. She was of little stature with wide green eyes and a kind smile. You just missed the Kelner guy! Vivienne said as she reached to greet her friend. Maggie laughed. No, actually, Bonnie and I know them quite well. We’ve actually had dinner with them last night.

Now why didn’t that surprise her? These fearless women who started the fan page were like a fast-moving train, a force to be reckoned with. Nothing stood in their way. I want to be like them, Vivienne thought to herself as she followed Maggie out of the hotel.

The convention venue at Samfunns Salen, just around the corner from the Sentrum music hall, was alight with people from all walks of life. Drinks in hand and sporting various Eureka T-shirts, they professed love for the boys and their timeless music. Flags from different countries hung loosely off their owners’ hands or backs, and Vivienne kicked herself. She had thought of bringing her own body-length Haitian flag but never got around to purchasing one. But she did bring the small flag she kept on her dresser back home and tucked it in her bag. People were dotting in and out of the large room, and Eureka music was blasting from the stage where a talented DJ entertained the excited fans. Vivienne felt overwhelmed; she hadn’t felt this much excitement about the band since that concert she attended with her girlfriends in Fort Lauderdale on Logen Anders’s birthday in 1986. Back then, she had amazingly thought to be the only one going to the concert that actually knew it was his birthday. It wasn’t until she saw the countless banners and signs with birthday wishes did she realize that the whole world knew and came better prepared than her. She’d felt rather lame but still had felt honored to be part of that special group of fans that got to celebrate his birthday with him. A Leo, just like she was, his birthday just two days after hers. She remembered how he’d blushed bright red on stage when Terje, the band’s keyboardist, cheerfully led the audience into the Happy Birthday song (she’d been sitting in the fourth or fifth row so had an excellent view of him). How she missed those college friends right about now.

Vivienne excused herself from Maggie, Rita, Bonnie, and another Canadian fan, Lola, who had joined their group, and headed for the lavatories. She just needed a moment to herself. Big crowds, although she convened them at times in her line of work, were never her thing, so she sought the solitude of a bathroom stall. She remained in her sanctuary for a few minutes, long enough for her to recover her enthusiasm and head out the door back