It’s been over a month since the end of the tour. We all did our own thing for a couple of weeks, as usual, since we were pretty sick of each other’s faces.
But Shane’s long-since ready to ramp back up into full social mode, and I, unfortunately for him, am not. “I’m not bailing on you,” I tell him. “I told you I was staying in tonight.”
Shane rolls his eyes. “And I’m telling you you’re coming out with us. I know parties aren’t your favorite thing, but there’s going to be a bunch of other bands there, and you need to at least come for a couple of hours to meet some people.”
I put my elbows on the marble countertop, and Shane and I stare each other down.
“I mean,” Shane says. “Unless you have something elsetruly importantto do.”
I want to kill him. He’s trying to pick a fight about the way I’ve been spending my evenings over the last two months since that show we played in Denver.
But how much time I spend on Skype with Maya is none of his business.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m not going.”
“Okaaaay,” Shane says. He has at least figured out that I’m a grown-ass man who he can’t strong arm into partying. “You should, though.There will be actual women there. Ones who date rock stars, even.”
Now Iamgoing to kill him. “Shane,” I say. “Lay the fuck off.”
Shane groans and sinks onto the stool across from me. “Kevin,” he says. “Give me a fucking break. You’ve been hanging out with that girl for months. She’s never going to sleep with you. You really need to move on.”
“I’m not trying to get her to sleep with me,” I say. Which is true. I got hardcore friend-zoned by Maya back when we met, and I know I’m never getting out of it. But spending time with her makes me happy, and while I know she’s not going to get over her resistance to long-distance relationships or her disdain for my lifestyle, I care about her.
“I know,” Shane says. “That’s the problem.”
“Look,” I say. “She’s my friend. And yes, I’m not going to the party tonight because I’m watching theStarving with the Starsfinale with her. If she crashes after the show, I’ll text you guys and come meet up, okay? But no promises. I’m not going to bail on her just because you think I need to get laid.”
“I don’t think it,” Shane says. “I know.”
He’s not wrong. I’ve been with exactly two girls since I met Maya, and both of them were a desperate attempt to convince myself that I’m okay just being friends. Both times I felt like shit afterward, so I haven’t been willing to try that particular tactic again.
“Have you thought any more about opening for Donnie’s band in January?” Shane asks.
I take a deep breath. We haven’t been back to Denver since I met Maya—mostly because of the tour—but one of our friends invited us to open for him.The guys were all on the fence about taking it. We’d be opening for a band less popular than we are, so it’s not a glowing career opportunity, but any chance to play in Denver is an opportunity to keep our fan base energized while we’re between albums. We’ve played all over the country, but Denver is still our bread and butter.There’s just a lot more on the rest of the table than there used to be.
“I don’t think I’m ready for that,” I say.
“Because you’re hung up on her,” Shane answers.
He’s not wrong. If things were different between me and Maya, I’d be jumping at every chance to play in Denver. With the rest of the guys back and forth about this particular gig, Shane’s willing to let me make the call. He’s being a little bit too accommodating, in fact.
“You’re okay with me saying let’s not take that gig, but not with me skipping out on a party,” I say.
Shane shakes his head. “It’s not just one party. People are starting to notice that you’re missing. I’ve been getting questions.”
“Right,” I say. “Because the great Shane Beckstrom gives a fuck what anyone else thinks.”
Shane gives me a look, and I shut my mouth.There’s pain there, and I get what he’s not saying.
Hedoesn’tgive a fuck what anyone else thinks. But it bothers him that I’ve been absent a lot. Even on that last leg of the tour, I skipped a lot of the parties outright, and hung out in my hotel room watching more horror movies than I’d seen in the rest of my life combined. I’ve never partied as much as Shane and JT, but I used to be up for it a couple nights a week, at least. Lately, they’ve been lucky to see me one night a week, less than that if we don’t have a show.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “What have you got going on next week? I’ll come to a couple of things. I promise.”
“Yeah?” Shane asks. “Because it’s not the same without you. You know that, right?”
I hear what he’s asking. It’s not one party he’s concerned about, or even a lot of them. It’s everything—our band, our life. For more than a decade our lives have revolved around each other.
I’m starting to wonder if Shane is being so accommodating about skipping out on the Denver gig because he’s afraid of what will happen if I see Maya again.
