Jane’s sudden aggression to Rob came as somewhat of a surprise to him. Sure, she had been forward in the past, but…out in the open? [i]”I’m sorry for last night.”[/i] she came again, sending a hand into his long hair, triggering what felt like waves of energy throughout his body. Jane’s physicality was not only illustrious—it was intoxicating. The contagious energy distracted Rob from where they were, and it was only when Jane had begun undressing him that he snapped back into somewhat of a reality. “The others—“ Rob managed to say, somewhere between a whisper and a moan. He was cut off by Lyla, who had entered the area, and immediately let out profuse apologies. Rob shoved a hand through his hair, attempting to straighten it out once again. Jane had quickly hopped off of him, and both were left in a stage of shock and unresolved feelings. Once the initial high had worn off, and he had left the bus with the others, he was free to think once again, as he always did. [i]How many times had Jane done that?[/i] Was the first of many thoughts. In recent memory, most of Jane’s apologies were tied together with intimacy of some sort. Whether it be just today, on the bus, or yesterday in the bunk, or many times before it, Rob was starting to get the impression that most apologies came with an added bonus. But was it? Rob was not denying his libido. Being with Jane was always amazing. It was just that…he couldn’t help but feel a little manipulated by it. And he was sure it wasn’t the intention. Jane’s sex drive, both with and without him, tended to be massive. But recently, it had grown more intimate. More rough and volatile. Jane seemed to desperately want him, but suddenly be away was it wasn’t time to get into bed. Tivoli Gardens was next on their list of places to visit, and yet again, in an instant, Jane was gone. Rob paced with the others and quickly moved next to Lyla. “Where’d Jane go?” He asked. “Last I saw, she grabbed a beer,” she responded. [i]Should I be worried?[/i] Rob thought, but decided against asking Lyla. But then again, just that [i]thought[/i] was frustrating. He felt constantly now that he needed to keep tabs on Jane. Ever since landing she had vanished, leaving Rob to look for her, worry about her, find out what was wrong. Rob, for all his hesitation about the arrangement, at least figured that this was what Jane wanted. That this would clear up the bullshit between them and let them just hang out like always. Rob cared deeply for Jane, but couldn’t help but feel a bit angry about all of this. He thought about how he hesitated from telling her that he had loved her back all those nights ago. Was that what was bothering her? God, it felt like being in some sort of sitcom. Here he was, the clueless guy. No idea what was bothering the girl. Left to guess to the audience’s bemusement. Well, he would appreciate someone telling him what was the matter. “I’m gonna go for a walk,” Rob said to the others. “I’ll catch up.” The others, namely Austin and Aaron, seemed to give Rob a concerned look as he bolted off down a pathway of roses. Rob was sure they worried for him, and was pretty grateful for that fact, but he needed a minute to process this. He opened his phone to see a message: [i]2:45, Zoe:[/i] [b]None of the boys want to get in practice before tonight’s set. Found a place near Tivoli Gardens that’ll take us in. No bullshit. You in?[/b] She had sent it almost an hour ago. The familiar feelings of infidelity swept across Rob again. [i]Jane seems mad at you now,[/i] a voice told him. [i]You think going off with Zoe is going to help?[/i] But the other half of him felt his frustration with her. And more than that, clung to the text message and it’s words. [u]No bullshit.[/u] It felt like what he needed. [i]3:24, Rob:[/i] [b]I’m down if you are. I’m in the gardens.[/b] [i]3:29, Zoe:[/i] [b]I’ll meet you at the front gate in ten.[/b] — Rob and Zoe walked quickly across a few streets, making their way to what seemed like a rougher part of town. Local gave the two questioning looks, as if their appearance alone showed their american nature. Rob felt like an alien here, but followed behind Zoe, who seemed to know the way pretty well. The two soon approached a glass door with the address on it. “This is it,” Zoe said. She pressed a finger against the buzzer. [i]“Whozzit?”[/i] a distorted voice came in a thick accent. “Zoe Davidson,” she responded. “Here for the space?” The door made a loud buzzing noise, and Zoe pulled the door open with little difficulty. The two led themselves up a flight of stairs, to find a room thick with a concoction of smells. Zoe moved to who seemed to be the owner of the place; a fat, balding man, highlighted by a backdrop of classic records hanging on the wall. The two shook hands. “Good to see you,” the man said, before turning to Rob. “Rob Pennie,” he introduced himself. “Oh, I know who you are,” he said. He reached behind the counter and pulled out their latest LP—still saran-wrapped and price-tagged. “I keep a mint record of any new band that seems to make the news. Usually, I’ll get a fortune for a first pressing.” [i]Well, at least he’s honest,[/i] Rob thought. He tried not to turn his nose at the unholy mixture of cats and weed that filled the air. But soon enough, the man showed them to a practice room, fitted with soundproof walls, and every instrument already prepared for them. “Not sure what you plan to play as a rhythm section,” he said, “but have fun.” The man closed the door, and the two were left alone. Rob quickly sat himself behind the drum set. It felt good to be back here. Practicing, or just jamming, was something he was quickly loosing interest in on the road, or even time. He had brought a practice pad to play on the bus, but hadn’t so much as taken it out of it’s packaging. In the haze of touring and behind the scenes drama, he had lost that passion for playing with others. And last night’s show certainly didn’t help that. “Ready?” Rob asked, tapping a few quick rudiments onto his knees as an impromptu warmup. Zoe fiddled around on the floor, hooking up pedals. “I’m not done setting up my chain. I’m not a drummer. I can’t just beat the shit out of stuff and make it sound good.” Rob laughed, and waited the extra minute for Zoe to hook up each pedal, then turn them up and tune up. “What did you have in mind?” Rob asked. But instead of a response, Zoe quickly turned on the desired pedals, and turned to Rob. She was wearing a guitar. “Warm up song?” She asked him. “I didn’t realize you could do guitar,” he admitted, trying to wipe the dumb look off of his face. Luckily, she had quickly turned around, talking into the live mic: 
“If you don’t remember this shit, you were never in high school.” Zoe’s fingers slammed down a familiar chord, then another, followed by this grungely, thick riff. 
Rob’s mind scanned every song he could think of with a riff like this. [i]Who as this band?[/i] Seemingly sensing Rob’s hesitation, Zoe moved up to the mic again, and hummed a familiar note, before descending down and playing again. A melody more recognizable when played on trumpet. It was all it took for Rob to realize the song. Laughing as the did it, he counted the two off, and began [url= https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H-5PCe5qQRo]Conquest by The White Stripes[/url]. This time, it was Rob who swung the microphone towards him, craning his neck to the side as he sang: [i]And then in the strange way things happen Their roles were reversed from that day The hunted became the huntress The hunter became the prey[/i] The song ended quickly, and the two were warmed up and ready to play. “Damn,” Zoe said into the microphone. “The pipes on this guy. Ever record backing for In Bloom?” “Jane does that shit,” Rob called back. “I beat these things.” “Shame,” she said. “I got to do backing on one of our deep cuts once. Still one of my favorite songs to play live.” “Let’s see what you’ve got then.” Rob joked, before raising the sticks and counting them into a fast jam. — An hour passed in seconds. The two played through almost every genre of music playable between the two instruments. From classic rock, through to 80’s rock and grunge, right into post-hardcore and even emo, they managed to cover nearly every song of the childhood, and a few songs they still secretly liked. The impromptu performance ended with Zoe on guitar, using her chain to play two octaves simultaneously, playing ferociously over vocals and a thick drum beat laid down by Rob. It was their own cover of [url= https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o9mJ82x_l-E]Hey Man Nice Shot, by Filter[/url], except a good bit faster and twice as heavy. Over the deep guttural barrage of noise, Rob screamed the final vocals, nearly shredding his vocal chords to hit notes far out of his typical range. [i]I wish I would've met you I wish I would've met you I wish I would've met you I wish I would've met you I'd say nice shot[/i] Rob rolled on the cymbals, before feeling the left stick fly out of his hand, doused in sweat. In a fit of euphoria and rage, he chucked the other one across the room, striking a table of cans, sending a few flying off and crashing to the floor. Zoe, meanwhile, held out the final note of the song, shaking the guitar violently, then striking the strings, again and again, feeling out the distorted noise that emitted from them. Then, she used a pedal, slowly lowing the noise into nothingness, bringing order back into the room once more. Rob gasped for air, having played his all into that session. Looking down at his hands, he had managed to break the callouses he had formed this season of playing, and saw the torn skin begin to bleed again. Thick drops of sweat poured from his hair, and coated the entire kit from the session. “Fuck me, man,” Zoe said. She had walked around the kit to see what was up. “You fucking killed your hands.” “And my voice,” Rob croaked out. He stood up and walked to the table he had recently attacked, picking up a rag that was nearby and covering his hands. “You can sing, I’m telling you,” Zoe said, having walking back over to him. “I can [i]scream[/i],” he joked. “And not very well.” He laughed at his own joke, but felt a hand grab his face and pull it up to face Zoe’s. “Don’t put yourself down, man,” Zoe said calmly. “Just cause you don’t play it in the band doesn’t mean you can’t do it.” The two locked eyes for a moment, and the next, Zoe immediately dove in, smashing her lips against his. Last time this had happened, back in the states, Rob had immediately pulled away. Not this time. The kiss deepened, and the two slowly caressed each other, coated in the grime of the room, the sweat from the session, and the blood on his hands. After half a minute, Rob eventually pulled away for air. But as Zoe came back for more, Rob finally pulled back. “Just—“ he sighed, turning to the table and opening a can of soda. “Just—give me a minute…” He had expected her to react in anger, but Zoe simply bent down and found another rag, and began to wipe her face off. “It’s cool,” she said. “I get it.” “It’s not that I don’t want to,” Rob said. “It’s that—“ “You can’t. Not yet.” She said. “Believe it or not I’ve been though this before. You spend all this time committed to someone and suddenly, you’ve got a license to fuck. And at first, it sounds like this glorious thing. Like, you get all the benefits of being together without any of the cost. But then, when you’re with someone else…it’s like you’re doing something wrong. But not because you’re physically with that person. But because you [i]want[/i] to be with that person. You can’t just have meaningless sex anymore.” Rob remained silent, but knew it only confirmed what Zoe was thinking. “How did yours turn out?” “It ended, obviously,” she said. “But I still see him everyday. So it’s hard to forget.” [i]”Andy?”[/i] “Yeah,” she said softly. “You told me you caught him cheating,” Rob began to question. Zoe smiled. “It’s easier to explain to people like that. But…in reality, we agreed to just be casual after a while. It was becoming a strain on everyone else, so we decided to just take it back a step. Turned out, I just couldn’t handle being with him part time while he went off with other women. I cared about him too much. And that…was my biggest mistake.” “Why?” “Because he didn’t really care about me.” The two were silent for a moment, before both could hear Zoe’s phone buzz in her pocket. She pulled it out. “That’s my ride,” she said. “See you tonight.” And with that, she vanished out the door, and left Rob alone. — He ran back to the Gardens and met back up with the main group, after having cleaned himself off enough to be in public. “Where’d you go?” Austin asked when he saw Rob, and no doubt how sweaty he had been. “Found a place to practice,” he said. “I needed the time away.” Austin nodded, seemingly satisfied, and continued on. He had only been gone 90 minutes or so, and Jane was still nowhere to be found. “Rob?” Lyla asked, cutting his assumed veil of silence as they walked. “Yeah?” “You’ve got blood on your hands.” Rob looked down instinctually, to see the bandages he had hastily taped on had leaked, and thick pools of blood threatened to ooze out from their source. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess I do.”