Colton huffed with a slight chuckle. This was exactly the same environment as Dean’s show that he and Sophie went to…the club atmosphere, dance music thumping, and people drinking and dancing.
But the vibe in this club was different.
At Dean’s show, there had been an air of freedom, inclusion, and celebration. Here, the vibe felt dark and heavy. The people on the dance floor seemed expressionless, mindlessly swaying to the beat without joy or passion. A zombie dance floor.
Maybe that was just the vibe of Colton’s soul in its current state.
Whether the actual vibe in the club was shitty, or Colton was projecting his own misery into the space around him, the fact was that this night was not even remotely on the same level as one of Dean’s performances.
And there it was again. No matter what he was thinking, it always circled back around to Dean.
Colton snapped out of his thoughts, captured by the song currently playing through the club. He had never really paid attention to lyrics before, but these startled Colton like a bucket of cold water…
I like me better when I’m with you
I like me better when I’m with you
I like me better when, I like me better when I’m with you
Colton blinked his eyes, trying to understand why those words resonated with him so profoundly. Sure, the song was catchy and upbeat, but those words, they sank deep into his mind and took root.
Maybe he was just having a bad day and overthinking things? Or maybe this was a sign that something needed to change?
As soon as Colton finished that thought, Sophie and her four friends walked up, cackling obnoxiously and gossiping about everyone nearby.
Nope! No more of this bullshit!Colton thought, feeling annoyed, his stress level rising once again.
He took a breath, pasted on a fake smile, and passed everyone their drinks.
Chapter 15
Dean
Dean struggled to stay focused. He’d been working in his studio for over an hour, but he couldn’t get this chord progression and rhythm just right. Creating a song from scratch was a long, tedious process. Using software with instruments required manually performing or building each segment and meticulously laying every single note and phrase, one at a time, then arranging them into a complete, logical format, and finally ending with a, hopefully, good song.
For Dean, it usually came naturally and was an enjoyable process. It was his therapy, his meditation. It kept him focused, not allowing his mind to wander off on nonsensical tangents.
If he wasn’t careful, Dean could let himself spiral into unhealthy, obsessive patterns. He tended to mentally fixate on small issues, making them much larger than they needed to be. The phrase “beating a dead horse” was probably created specifically for Dean.
Unfortunately, music wasn't always effective when it came to saving himself from…well, himself. Today was not the case. It just wasn’t working, like a musical version of writer’s block. And Dean was beginning to get frustrated. He slammed his hands down on the piano, creating a hideous, cacophonous noise before screaming ”FUUUUCCKK!"
Mercifully, the phone rang, pulling Dean back from the brink…somewhat.
His mood lifted when he saw the name on the screen, a smile flashing across his face as he answered the call.
“Hey, Colton. What’s up?”
“Hey. Look, I’m gonna have to cancel for tonight,” Colton said with a gravelly voice. “I’m really sick. I have a high fever and I’m waiting on an Uber to pick me up from practice.”
“Yeah, you sound awful. Is Sophie going to take care of you?”
“No, Sophie is in Milan for a fashion show. I’m just going to go home and go to bed.”
Colton barely got the words out before he fell into a horrible coughing fit.
“Tell the Uber to bring you here. You can stay with me until you’re feeling better.”
“Nah, it’s ok. I’m just going to go home.”
