[i]“It’s called Weatherman,”[/i]

[b]Wait…what?[/b]

They were playing Weatherman? Rob couldn’t help but suppress a smile. That song wasn’t something they played regularly. Or really…ever. To have Jane bust it out like this was really appreciated. Kicking into the odd, rhythmic tom fill that bleed into the song, Rob slammed the touring kit with everything he had, not stopping until Jane’s scream filled the air and the crowd was ready for it. 

Rob watched as Sam and Austin pulsed to the beat, slamming their heads down every two beats to the song. In a sort of uncontrollable fashion, Rob followed suit, enjoying the tempo, feeling the music, and playing as loud as possible. Playing with this much vigor would normally kill a good drummer; he’d run out of steam two songs in. His fingers would bleed after two more. But…for Weatherman? 

Yeah. It was worth it. 

By the time the song had ended and the single came on, Rob had been reduced to sweat. By the time the bridge came on, one of his sticks snapped in half with a sickening crack only he could hear. He quickly switched out to a fresh stick without missing a beat. By the time the song ended, he stood up, and ran out of the throne and to the front of the stage, by Austin. He lobbed the sticks into the crowd (overhand, so as to not pummel someone) and waved slightly as he walked off, stage-right. 

“Good set,” Anna said as he passed her. She had her hands on a box labeled VULTURE in large, sprayed-on letters; the band would be taking the stage immediately after them. In between two fingers was a scrap of paper, with a number on it. She handed it to him as he passed. “If the road gets lonely…” she trailed off. Rob gave her a smile and hastily typed the number into his phone. A good what-if, he supposed. 

As he trailed off, he saw Jane talk to two other people near the stage. Must’ve been the tenants for tonight. He didn’t think much of it and went to wait in the van. After Jane arrived, covered in sweat, like himself, they headed off soon after. 

“Thanks,” he said, as they drove. “For Weatherman. I appreciate you…doing that, for me.” 

Words caught in Rob’s mouth. He thought it best just to keep his mouth shut. 

[i]Was he…nervous? Why?[/i]

[hr]

On the car ride back, Rob slid out his phone, throwing a blind text to Anna.

[b]How’d the show go?[/b]

It was three minutes before a response came:

[b]Still going. Long-ass set. See you soon?[/b]

Rob thought for a moment, before:

[b]Absolutely.[/b]

[hr]

They arrived at the night’s lodging, a little ways out of El Paso. Out here, the desert was in every part of the air; words rang in Rob’s ears from everyone he knew from these parts: [i]It’s a dry heat.[/i]

Rob about rolled out of his seat, marching his way to the back and grabbing his bag. As he passed Jane, he stopped, for just a moment. 

“Hey, if you wanted to talk…” Rob said, letting his words die off. God, why was this so hard? “Anyways. Have a good night.”

Rob moved straight to the house, exchanged pleasantries with their hosts, and went straight into the designated room. He entered the shower, let the water pour over him, and hoped he’d never have to get back out.