Two club sodas churned away in Rob’s gut alongside a near-half gallon of Guinness–sloshing to-and-fro in his gut as the Uber driver took far-too-sharp turns back towards the house. It was nauseating in the way he intended such a horrid combination to be. Hopefully, by the time they got back and the weed came out, all thoughts of sneaking upstairs to this personal stash would be gone. Rob was jammed in the third row, between a crew member he didn’t know (he was fairly confident their name started with a “B”) and Sam. Both he and Sam were far too close to try to exchange wry glances, but that certainly didn’t stop them from trying. Ahead of them included several members of crew alongside Austin and J, and the others. Austin continuously turned his head throughout the ride, trying to make all too obvious glances towards Rob. In between glances, Sam turned to Rob as best he could. “Just leave him be, man,” came a half-whisper-half-mutter. “He’ll get over himself.” “What’s his deal?” Came Rob’s response. “I haven’t done shit to him.” “I don’t think a community college gig pays well,” Sam said. “I think he’s just worrying you aren’t taking this seriously.” “He isn’t the one leaving a kid behind to be here.” “I know,” Sam replied. “I’ll try to sort it out.” Rob huffed slightly and returned to looking straight ahead. Funny, how much these guys had changed in ten years. How much had he changed, then? [center]***[/center] A few hours later, the crew had went home, and three-fourths of the band ended up back outside at the pool. Austin had slipped away with some crew members without telling essentially anyone. Rob had passed him on the stairs heading upstairs for a swimsuit. “Be back late,” was all he had said. “Ben’s got the hookup on a great club in Santa Ana.” “Have fun,” Rob called back, but he doubted it was even heard. Austin’s absence, however, wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Out here, with just the three of them, things felt a hell of a lot more normal. Hearing more from Sam, at least on his part and assumedly on J’s as well, was an increasingly welcome scene. Getting caught up in old road tales wasn’t usually his thing, but considering the events of the past few days (not to mention the inevitable tour on the horizon), it was nice to re-acquaint himself. It reminded him he needed to talk to Evan about time off. Grinding out city after city was a young person’s game. Besides that, he needed time to catch flights back to Seattle and spend time with Elle. He was already forgoing a lot of his owed time being down here, and given Mae’s increasing antagonism, well… He had no intention having to go back to court over it all. Before he could think further on the subject, a joint found itself in his hand, and two expectant pairs of eyes lingered on him. Rob blinked a few times and took a drag, thinking. “The more embarrassing, the better, huh?” Sam’s nod of approval gave him all the permission he needed. “Well, I’m not sure you really want to hear it, cause it involves you. And pizza.” Sam’s face dropped immediately. “No, Rob, we made a promise--” Rob broke out into laughter. “Oh, come on, Sam, how long has it been?” His and J’s smiling stares seemed to break him. “Fine,” he reneged. “But it was a [i]long time ago![/i]” “Alright,” Rob started, “so here’s the scene: we’re somewhere between Atlanta and Raleigh with back-to-back shows, but Sam here has us pull over in bum fuck nowhere—” “[i]Greenville, South Carolina.[/i] It isn’t bum fuck.” “…bum fuck nowhere, because he has a fan and plug in town he was talking to on Instagram. At a Quiktrip, at like 3 in the fucking morning, he picks up live resin, some carts, and a bag of magic mushrooms he had no intention of using. Or labeling, for that matter. Three weeks later, we’ve finished our setup and have three hours before our set–I think in Canada? Anyways. [i]This[/i] motherfucker, without so much as thinking, makes himself a mushroom pizza—” “—I was [i]high[/i]—” “Without remembering the shit-ton of psilocybin he just baked onto the pizza. I can’t remember where the others were, but you spent the next few hours in your bunk–curtains open–completely fucking naked with your fingers in your mouth.” “I have no idea how I played that fucking show,” Sam cut in. “That was the worst trip in fucking history. Everyone looked like a CGI demon.” “At one point, you told me [i]cradle[/i] you, dude.” Sam’s face was beet red from embarrassment. “So that’s [i]your[/i] worst set, ‘cause it sounds an awful lot like mine.” “Of course it was my worst set,” Rob cut in. “I could barely focus after basically dressing you for the show.” A mixture of embarrassment and the lunacy of the situation sent Sam into a fit of laughter. “It was pretty bad, wasn’t it?” Rob laughed in response. In reality, it wasn’t actually that horrible. But it [i]was[/i] one of Rob’s fonder memories of Sam, in reality. For someone tripping out of their mind, he was a lot more pleasant at the time than the I-don’t-care persona he usually put on. It was nice to finally see that façade lowered. Rob tried to hand the joint back to Sam, but he refused. “No, it’s bedtime for me,” he said as he pulled himself from the pool, intentionally splashing a bit of water J’s way. “You two keep it going, though.” Rob’s smile remained as he watched Sam head inside, before turning back to J. At long last, the two were seemingly alone. Something told him Austin wasn’t exactly planning on interrupting this time. “He’s gotten cooler, hasn’t he?” Rob began. “He was a moody fuck our first time around.” He let the comment hang in the air for a moment, before shifting. He was no body language expert, but he figured J’s posture was enough to signify it might be time to get back to her comment. “Jane, I, um—” words immediately caught in his throat. Good start, man, off to a good start. Now that the moment was here, all of the pot and booze and club soda swirling around in him wasn’t helping with a decade’s worth of tension swirling around between the two of them. “I’ve missed you terribly. Even though I’m probably pretty shit at showing it. I probably could’ve called, in hindsight…” Rob took a moment to pull himself from the water and sat beside her. “My point is, you’ve done such good with yourself. And I… well, the most good I did in that time is in Elle. It’s not in me. And it doesn’t help that my ex is in direct competition with–“ Rob stopped himself again. “Sorry, not about me.” Rob turned to look to J, finally. He had been avoiding eye contact as much as possible, because he knew what would happen if he saw her–really saw her in this moment. Oh, fuck it. “I have always loved you.” It was the truth. The truth he had denied for years. The love he had sworn off after their breakup, the love he tried to bury even when he and Mae were happy, once upon a time. The truth he didn’t think he ever even admitted to himself, until just now. What else was there to say?