Rob’s heart seemed to burn in his chest as J closed the gap between them. Her warmth radiated from her, and her breath seemed to become as shallow as his. He was confident in his decision to be direct with J, but that didn’t stop the moment¬–this moment–from terrifying him. Yet still, in the quiet terror of it, there was calm. There was home. Her fingers gently pulled him towards her, and they fell into each other again. Rob’s right hand slid up the nape of her neck, gently burrowing his fingers into her hair. His left hand found itself on her side, where it always ended up, no matter what. It was more than muscle memory. It was re-connecting two long-lost puzzle pieces. It was forming a whole once again. If only for a moment. It was all too soon the door shut behind her, leaving Rob and Sam standing awkwardly faced towards each other. The sound of the pool’s water filter permeated the air for several seconds. Finally, Rob broke. “What’s wrong with the mix?” -- An hour later, Sam and Rob were hulled up in the basement, several beer cans littered between them, burying themselves in work. For both of them, it was a nice, immediate reprieve from the inevitable conversation they would need to have about Sam walking in on Rob and Jane. But more than that, it was also a bit nice to be spending more time together. After all, all those years ago, it was mostly Austin and Rob that got along the best. These days, Austin was more of a Dad than ever–and that was coming from a father. Sam was less on top of Rob, less judgmental for his decisions and his drinking and everything else. Maybe it wasn’t exactly the positive influence he needed in his life right now. But it was certainly the influence he preferred to be around. “No, seriously, cut the overdrive there,” Rob cut in after Sam played through the second chorus. “It’s too much midrange, and Jane’s bit here is basically an alto line.” “Well, it’s all overdrive,” Sam countered. “I’m open to trying something else out but otherwise it’s running straight from pickup to tape.” “Pickup to DAW, you mean.” “Sure.” Rob thought for a moment, before pulling up a song on his phone. He played a few seconds for Sam to hear. It was an [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lz90JZuOckM]Emma Ruth Rundle[/url] song. “What about something like this, like put a clean tone on it, but use a flanger.” “There’s a flanger on this?” “I mean–kinda a mix between this and that [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WJ9-xN6dCW4]Phoebe Bridgers[/url] track I showed you earlier for reference. Then put the drive back on at the end of the phrase.” Sam pressed a few buttons and played back the phrase. After hearing it out, he gave the slightest of nods. “…yeah, you’re right, Pennie. This tracks.” Rob nodded while slipping out a flask and taking a big swig. Afterward, he responded: “I figured it would, I mean, there’s only so much space in those frequencies. We used to blow it out but then you’d have to compress it to fuckin’ shit and all of a sudden, your dynamic range is gone.” “You used to just play drums, you know.” Sam replied. Rob smiled at that. “I still just play drums. But I also had nothing to do in the recording booth with Mae, so I listened to the engineers. I don’t know as much as you think I do, thought.” “Well, I don’t think you know much, so that works out.” Rob glared at Sam, before the two of them burst out laughing. “Why didn’t we do this the first time around?” Rob wondered aloud. The statement seemed to catch Sam off-guard. He thought for a moment. “I mean, I was a dickhead, but so were you, so, not much to be done about it. Plus you and Jane were off playing Romeo and Juliet all the time so you were busy.” Rob sighed. “Look, man, sorry–“ “–that you were in love?” Sam finished. “Yeah, don’t be. It wasn’t you two together that was annoying, it was how fucking [i]embarrassed[/i] you two were about the whole thing.” Rob hadn’t considered that angle before, and thinking about it, he could see Sam’s point, for all his own issues. “That’s what I’m avoiding this go around,” he admitted. “You two back on your bullshit?” Sam asked. “Hopefully not ‘on our bullshit’,” Rob replied. “But… I’m not gonna be embarrassed about it. Or at least I don’t intend to be.” “Is this the new Rob I hear?” “It’s the Rob with a kid and an ex-wife,” Rob countered. He took another drink from his flask. “I’ve got a lot to work on, and I don’t know how any of anything is gonna play out, but maybe this time our business stays our business.” Sam laughed at that. “With respect, Rob, your ex-wife is about to go on an Adele-level tour and we’re about to drop our first album in a decade. I don’t think your business stays your business for long.” Rob stood up at that. “Quit making good points and go to bed sometime, asshole.” He patted him roughly on the back and gave a wry smile. “I’m done for the day.” -- Laying in bed that night, Rob continuously eyed the doorframe. His door was shut, and unlocked, and the only thing on his mind. He wanted so desperately to burst into Jane’s room, to ask her what she wanted to do, to finally get back on the same page about the feelings that have surrounded them both, rekindled by the band finally getting back together again. But maybe tonight was a start. Maybe it was enough. Who knew? Rob’s eyes stayed on the doorframe, until they closed hours later, sleep finally taking him. When he awoke, very much in that same position, there was a different figure waiting for him. Austin. “Get up,” came his flat comment once the two made eye contact. “Ten minutes until a band meeting. Evan called one.” Suddenly, a strong force pelted him in the side. Rob grunted as he sat up and grasped at whatever the hell it was Austin tossed at him. As he looked at it, it was a bottle of Pedialyte. “Thought you needed it.” “Asshole,” Rob grumbled out as the door shut behind Austin. It was funny really, how in just a few short days Austin was more like Sam, and Sam more like Austin. Whatever happened next, it would certainly be interesting. -- Ten minutes later, Rob was sat with a glass of tap water and an energy drink at the dining room table. Sam and Austin sat on either side of him, and in front, Jane—who had sat down just as the conference call was starting, so he hadn’t had the chance to talk to her. Her face was unreadable. [i]How did her interview go?[/i] “Last night, Sam sent me a demo for another track last night. Good shit all around. At this rate, we’re well past the number of tracks for an LP. Plus, with [i]Everything[/i] doing as well as it’s done, I’m sending a film crew down tonight to shoot a video.” “Like a music video?” Austin piped up. “No¬–God, no–that shit’s exclusive to pop stars now, we don’t have that kind of budget. An acoustic ‘live’ version. They’ll bring Rob a cajon and an acoustic bass for Austin. Just something so the kids have something visual, so dress up nice tonight.” “Anything else?” Rob asked. “What, you busy?” Evan jokingly responded. “Seriously, this is going better than expected you guys. It’s not even a month and we’re eyeing release dates 4-6 weeks out from now. We’ll beat Mae–“ Evan stopped himself. “We’ll likely beat many other artists to market for the start of the season.” “You aren’t subtle, Evan.” Rob replied. His face flushed with embarrassment. “Also,” Evan continued, paying the comment no mind, “I’m upping your media regiment. Jane’s pulling her weight as of this morning and the rest of you need to follow her lead. Sam, you’ve got an Ernie Ball promo shoot later today. Austin, there’s a podcast I want you on later as well. Rob, there’s a Guitar Center in Long Beach I need you at. I know it’s just a Guitar Center, but—” “–I’m on it.” Rob replied. His mind filled with memories. “I know the place. I got my first kit there.” “Perfect. Sorry, I know it’s all last minute, but check your emails, I sent all the details. We need to stay on top of this and with the way the market is right now, we need more videos of your faces. Social media, share personal stories, that sort of thing. Be available without actually being available.” “Makes perfect sense.” Austin cut in. “I have to run, call me if you need me, good job, good luck, have a good one.” The line cut dead after that. After a moment of silence, Rob pulled out his phone and looked at the email Evan had talked about. [i]”Oh, shit.”[/i] he muttered out. The Guitar Center was an hour and a half away. And he was supposed to be there in two hours. “I have to get dressed,” he said, getting up from the table. Of fucking course the one time he wanted more than anything to talk to Jane, he had no time. He could barely even make eye contact before he was upstairs, cleaning up his face, getting himself dressed. He knew beating Mae to her re-release was important, but putting pressure on them like this wasn’t going to help. Besides, there was more than enough they needed to work out now–before another tour started. He hadn’t even had a weekend off to see Elle yet. If Evan wanted him to be everywhere, all at once, it was going to come at a cost. He just didn’t know what that cost was, yet.