HangYourSecrets

In Bloom: The Reunion

Rob nearly shivered as Jane lowered herself onto his arm.

At first, he figured it was some sort of revenant of his past teenage nervousness. Something he grew out of but, for just a fleeting moment, felt again.

But it soon became clear it wasn’t that.

He was genuinely nervous. After ten years, ten long years of building another life with someone, only to have it all come crashing down–after all of it, here he was. Back with J.

It was something he, at one point in a heated rage, swore he’d never do again. And it was a promise he kept for quite a long time.

But it was all a memory now. And this is what was real.

So what next?

The question burned in his mind. And it would remain there for a long, long time ahead.

***

After Jane slipped upstairs, Rob headed outside. In his right pocket, his fingers were already curling around a spliff he had snagged from Sam the other day. And speaking off, as he slipped through the door and into the Californian air, there Sam was.

He sat cross-legged on one of the pool recliners, his head whipping up from a phone call.

“No, I won’t tell them,” Sam said. He paused, then continued: “Fuck you, I won’t. I gotta go. Talk soon.”

Sam hung up the phone and looked up to Rob.

“Got two of those?”

Nodding, Rob obliged him and sat down next to him.

“I’m assuming that was Evan?” Rob began.

Sam laughed and lit up. “You can’t possibly thing I’d divulge that, would you?”

“I’d bet you two months’ rent that was Evan giving you advance warning that he booked a tour.”

Sam’s eyes went wide. “I’d be a fucking dumbass to take you up on that,” he said, mostly-serious. “Two months of your rent would bankrupt me.”

“But not for long.”

“...fine,” Sam scoffed after a long pause. “It wasn’t exactly a hard guess.”

“Let me guess again, then,” Rob continued. “You found out first because he needed at least one yes going into the call tonight to convince the others. And we’re performing Friday.”

“What are you, his assistant?”

“He used the same trick on me a month ago,” Rob replied. He let out the air in his lungs and leaned back onto the chair. “He wanted me on board to get you guys on board. Let me guess, he called you the ‘most dependable’ and the ‘easiest yes?’”

“...motherfucker.”

Rob laughed at that one. His newfound friendliness with Sam was much calmer than his seemingly-strained friendship with Austin. Sam wasn’t a very intellectual thinker–but he was always the smartest in the room when it came down to it. All instinct.

Which is precisely why he turned, thoughtfully, back to Rob and asked, “You’re terrified to say yes, aren’t you?”

This time, it was Rob on the defensive. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you are.”

“...I am.”

“Why?”

To that end, Rob wasn’t sure how to respond. “I guess I suppose there are a few ways it could go right and a million ways it could go wrong.”
“That’s In Bloom, dude. Do you want to do this?”

“Of course, yes.”

“Then why are you so scared?”

“I don’t know,” Rob replied, flat.

“Since when did you second-guess everything? You were always so sure of everything you ever did––”

“––because that was before I got divorced, Sam!”

There was a small pause, as both men were caught off-guard by Rob’s outburst.

Rob was the first to break, continuing: “And I wasn’t sure of myself, I was cocky. I thought I knew everything. I was 20, for Christ’s sake. You fuck up enough and you lose that.”

“Yeah, no, Rob.”

“What?”

“No. I don’t buy it. You’re not some fuck up, you’re a bored rich bachelor. And you’ve been locked up so long you’re scared to commit again.”

“...ouch,” Rob replied. He took a deep drag of the spliff. “Some psychoanalysis that is.”

“Oh fuck off, man,” came Sam’s reply. “I’m not going to pity you. And you should stop pitying yourself.”

Rob’s mouth opened to say something, but he stopped himself.

There wasn’t really anything left to say. Sam was right.

“Fair,” came his short, eventual reply. The two smoked for another half hour, chatting about other things, before making their way to the basement.

Taking a seat, Rob fiddled with his phone’s conference app for a bit before feeling Jane’s small hand on his shoulder–using him for balance. He pushed the phone to the center of the table, watching as Jane slipped Austin some lyrics.

It was almost too long ago to remember, but Rob couldn’t remember a time when Jane was this prolific in such a short span of time. Had she been writing songs this whole time?

Then again. They had never been a band that was in and out of the studio. It was tiresome, lengthy work. Usually, it took months, but this time, they had enough to fill 2 LPs in a matter of weeks.

Of course, Evan would capitalize on that. His name and bright, overly-toothy headshot appeared on Rob’s phone as he called in. Rob started the call and took a deep breath.

A few minutes later, the group was introduced to a number of new names and voices. Ludwig in Marketing. Regan in Booking. Danielle the Publicist. And others. Evan called it “refamiliarizing In Bloom with the record label’s assets,” but it was truly a thinly-veiled introductory meeting.

The topic soon shifted to Friday.

“So,” Evan started, “you guys are familiar with Alex’s Bar, right?”

Austin immediately scoffed. “You’re joking right? We cut our teeth there in high school. Of course we know it.”

“Well, they’ve announced a secret show Friday, and I made a few phone calls–”

“–Doesn’t sound like much a secret, then,” Sam interjected.

Evan audibly sighed, then skipped to the point: “...and I got you guys in. Friday night. Acoustic or full set, up to you.”

Even though he knew it was coming, Rob was still momentarily shocked to hear it. His mind briefly flashed to Mae, wondering if the sudden nature was tied to her in any way, but pushed the thought aside.

He could only imagine what Jane was feeling. He lightly squeezed her thigh under the table–a quick and old way of telling her he was there. The conversation continued on a few minutes after that, with just about everyone tearing into Evan about the decision. Eventually, he had to keep explaining just to keep everyone calm.

“Look, it’s a sold-out show, guys.”

“Why the hell would a secret show sell out that quickly?” Sam asked.

“Because they think it’s you guys!” Evan exclaimed. “Look, I get it, we’re all a little old-school on how this works these days. I’m surprised too, but you gotta realize that these few weeks you guys were working on the album, it may as well have been two years. If we didn’t put out ‘Everything,’ we’d be seeing fucking YouTubers talking about how In Bloom fell off.”

“So there’s a tour in the works, right?” Rob finally broke and asked. He tried to keep quiet early on but Evan’s trickling method of news delivery was growing old.

“Nothing solid, and you guys can say no...but I was thinking July and August. Breaks every third show of at least 48 hours, and I’m trying to work in a three-day break somewhere in the middle but I can’t get either Phoenix or Dallas to budge on some weekend options–”

“My classes start up in August,” Austin cut in. “Am I supposed to leave my students with an interim professor?”

“Austin, you aren’t getting it,” Evan replied. “If you do this tour you don’t even have to be a professor.”

“I like teaching.”

“Then you can still teach and not worry about money for a year.”

Again, the room fell back into crosstalk, and a whole lot of questions. The dates, the locations, the venues.

The venues. That was something Rob was shocked to hear about. He had imagined dive bars, quirky spots in college towns, and bottom of the bill in major cities. But no.

Evan had a headline tour in the works that would start a little more than a month from now. No bands yet on the ticket, but he was pulling out all the stops on this one.

At this point, Danielle and Regan cut in. Voices of reason, the two explained succinctly how it would work, what sort of schedule made the most sense, and when they felt the album would best drop.

“We’re thinking either after show two or before show three,” Danielle explained. “Ludwig’s been calling the record plants to be sure we can do it. He’s confident we can get a limited press in by July 5th, but variants may have to wait. Most of them said they have a massive backlog to get through for a major artist release.

The room was painfully silent at that. She may as well have said, “Rob’s ex-wife is actively fucking with our release plans.”

“I’ll send you my visitation schedule,” Rob replied. All eyes turn to him, but he ignored them. He had taken Sam’s advice at this point and spoke more confidently than he felt. “If I’m doing this, these dates need to coordinate in a way that I can plan around that.”

“Actually, Rob,” Danielle replied, “Evan already communicated your blackout dates to us. He also gave us Austin’s school schedule so we could get him back before midterms. We actually need to speak with Jane and Sam sometime tomorrow so we can factor any other blackout dates into the lineup.”

The room was silent a moment before Evan brought it home:

“Nothing is set in stone, guys,” Evan began. “It’s all on refundable deposits. I’m asking you to do the secret show as a one-off love letter to your fans, and-slash-or as a personal favor for quietly managing the represses and royalty checks over the years. I don’t need a ‘yes’ right now. Talk amongst yourselves about how I’m a prick after this call, but think it over. Play the show. And if you like it and you like each other, consider going on this tour. Because if the numbers keep going the way they’re going, you won’t be picking up where you left off. You’ll be coming back to double your peak fanbase.”

The conversation continued for a bit after that, before Rob finally hung up the phone.

There was a moment’s silence between the four as they stared towards the center of the table.

“For what it’s worth,” Sam said, “I don’t need time to consider it. I’m a ‘yes.’ But I don’t blame any of you if you bow out. Just promise me it’s all of us or none of us.”

Rob’s eyes stayed down at the center of the table. He didn’t see how Jane or Sam reacted, but he glanced up, gave a firm nod of approval, and glanced back down.

Sam took in a deep breath. “Then I’m going to go my royalty check at the nearest Sam Ash.”

He left after that. And almost immediately behind him, Austin followed–silent.

Once they were gone, only then did he look to Jane.

He didn’t say a word, but he knew this time his body language was probably doing all the talking for him.

He was an emphatic yes.

In Bloom: The Reunion

Rob felt Jane’s trepidation immediately when it came to discussing what was most likely going to be a show.

For Rob, performing a show wasn’t necessarily scary in concept. Not even a month ago, he could remember lazily playing his way through a show at The Alligator in Seattle. He momentarily cringed at the thought of it. It may as well have been a year ago.

But regardless, playing as In Bloom was different. The band always seemed to teeter on a razor’s edge–and from memory, Rob could only name a handful of times where the band was truly locked in with each other in a concert setting. It was an ephemeral thing, them all getting along. Rob’s mind pinged back to Austin, who was likely at home, counting the days before–in his mind–he and Jane fuck it all up yet again.

Maybe that’s what made this whole thing work in the first place, the fragility of it. If so, maybe the show would be better.

But for all his thoughts on how it could go, he could see in Jane’s eyes this was a monolithic task. He had seen the way the media tore into Jane during their implosion; or how they descended like vultures at the end of his and Mae’s marriage. But he couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like to be the focal point in their fetid, ravenous obsession.

He pushed such thoughts aside and turned back to Jane.

She way she talked about renovations and yard work shone with a fragile joy. Another uncomfortable reminder for Rob about the vast wealth disparity at play. Jane was talking about putting work into her home when Rob had always been concerned with the opposite. His fully-furnished apartment back in Washington probably only held a boxful of stuff that was actually his. The rest was picked out of a catalogue with an interior designer who could barely get him to care about the options.

“I’ve love to see your garden,” he responded truthfully as she mentioned it. He wasn’t quite sure of the implications everything at this point. Were they friends again? Were they dating?

This was ostensibly a date, sure. But that this the beginning of something else?

Rob couldn’t help considering this as J mentioned home directly. Elle would be down here in a few days, and a few days after that, the two weeks were up. What came next?

Evan mentioned an August tour, but he’d find out about MAE’s July tour soon enough, and he imagined In Bloom would be back on the road soon thereafter. So how much time would really pass? A month at most?

“Well, wait for the inevitable tour, mostly,” he laughed as he began to answer. “I shouldn’t mention this, but I have it on good authority my ex is going to be touring in July, so I’m not sure how long before we’re all back on a bus again.”

Saying the word ‘Mae’ out loud here felt a bit sacrilegious. Plus, it was just yet another reminder that the world back out there, away from here, was a lot more complicated than he wished it’d be.

The prospect of being back on a tour bus crossed his mind. And the pain of being away from Elle aside, he had to admit, he was more comfortable on a tour bus than back in his own home.”

He took a deep breath and actually began to answer her question. “But really, aside from Elle time, it’s pretty quiet back at home. I try not to spend too much time in the condo.”

Rob imagined what Jane’s home must be like. J at home, with her cat, tending to her garden.

Building a life. The idea rang through his head. Something he hadn’t done in a while. All he had really done was keep on keeping on. Kept up being what was left of him.

“But no, no real plans. I’m wide open for whatever’s next.”

Looking down, Rob slipped her hand into his and looked back out to the crashing, distant waves.

"It really is beautiful, isn't it?"

In Bloom: The Reunion

There was something intractably powerful about the first few moments Rob and J fully allowed themselves to be honest.

After so many long years–so much wasted time, so many mistakes, here they were again. Back home.

But the moment passed.

It had to. Because the two of them had built lives in the aftermath of their relationships.

Jane was recovered–on a path out of a darkness that could have killed her. Even just the thought of it reminded Rob of his darkest thoughts in the waning months of their relationship, so many years ago. The terror in the moment before he opened the door to their bedroom, wondering if inside would be the person he loved more than anyone else in the world… or a lifeless body.

And Rob had Elle. For all of the music he made, with Auxiliary, with Mae, with anyone, none of it compared to her. She was just coming into her own now. She had thoughts, and opinions, and a mind of her own. Ten years ago, he would lay in bed and wonder what his impact on all of this would end up being. Today, all he wanted was to know her.

No, as much as he wanted it to be simple, he knew it couldn’t be. So for now, he smiled and appreciated that at the least, the two could be open. Whatever came after that, came after that.

Rob felt himself slipping closer to her as she took his hand. “Something low key,” he repeated. “I’d like that.”

He watched as she rose and slipped back inside before he allowed himself to fall backward, into the pool, and felt the cool water crashing on his face.

Under the surface, he enjoyed this moment for as long as he could hold his breath.

***

The morning light shone through the blinds and struck Rob clear in the face, snapping him out of a surprisingly light sleep.

He roughly blinked away whatever residual dreams pinged in his head and sat up.

Something was off.

He was covered in a strange, cold sweat. His hands jittered–as if he had had one too many coffees already.

Almost immediately, he began to panic. What was going on? Was he having a panic attack in his sleep?

He rose and went to the bathroom, washing off his face as he did so. One moment, he was seeing himself in the mirror. The next, he watched his hands curl around the handle of rum beneath the sink.

'What the fuck?’ came a loud thought in his head. ’Is this withdrawal?’

Rob stood back up, bottle in hand.

He looked at it for a long moment. He tried to remember when he bought it. Was it two days ago? Maybe three?

Either way, the handle was well under halfway full.

“Whatever it is...” he muttered to himself. Within another minute the four handles of various liquors were dumped down the bathroom sink.

Whatever it was, he was done.

He moved back into his main bedroom and looked at the time, before digging through his luggage and throwing on his running shoes.

He still had time to squeeze in a mile before the band met up again. And the less time he thought about shakiness and sweat, the better.

***

Rob tried to keep his eyes on the kit as he tracked his part on Years. It was a powerful track–one that had the same dark contour as J’s lyrics–so he help things plodding, dark, and heavy on the toms.

The metronome blared in his ears as he tried to focus on staying as deep in the pocket of the groove as possible, but his mind was somewhere else. His heart continued to race long after he cooled down from his run. Even just staying in tempo was stressing him out.

Why was he so tense?

His mind raced to the idea of withdrawal immediately, but he had his doubts that was the case. He had experienced withdrawal before. It wasn’t something he liked to remember, but the days directly during and after his divorce were dark and rarely sober. He didn’t tell many people, but after a few weeks went by in a fetid blur, he went cold turkey and stayed off everything, even caffeine.

That felt more like that sinking feeling when you first sit down on a roller coaster and it begins to move. That precise moment where you feel your agency slipping away, knowing you’re merely a passenger, along for the ride...

But this felt different. This was more like that gutteral feeling after the first drop.

Except it never ended.

As he played the final few notes, he looked up and cause Sam’s gaze. They both knew it was a bad take as soon as they saw each other.

“I know,” Rob said as he got up. “Let me pee and then I want to do a take without the met.”

“I was gonna suggest setting it five clicks slower,” Sam replied through the intercom. “So that way you’d actually play on time.”

“Ha ha,” came Rob’s sneering reply. “One second.”

He entered into the adjoining bathroom in the recording studio and pulled out his cell phone before the door even closed. A few taps and a ring later, he had Mae on the other end of the line.

“Rob?”

“Hey,” came his shaky reply.

“I’m just about to head to a photoshoot–is everything alright?”

“Yeah.”

“It doesn’t sound alright--”

“Mae, I gotta know when you’re going on tour.”

“What?”

“I know your managers told you not to tell me, but goddamn it–I’m her father. I need to know. I’ll keep it from my team as long as I can, you have my word.”

There was a long pause.

“...Either June 28th or July 2nd, we’re stuck on locking down the Twin Cities show.”

“How long of a tour?”

“They’re pushing for six months, but I’m fighting for at least five days off every two months. It’s going to be grueling, especially after a midnight drop the week before–”

“And Elle?”

“...Robbie. Breathe. We’ll work it out, you’ll get every day that’s yours with her. I’ll cover her travel and the sitter. What’s gotten into you?”

Looking up in the mirror, he noticed the tears streaming down his face. When did that happen?

“I’m sorry,” he started. “I don’t know. I just needed to know.”

“I could have been clearer,” she sighed on the other end. “I’ll take ownership of that. I really have to get to this photoshoot, seriously.”

“Go for it. Good luck and thank you.”

“Thanks. Have a drink or something. Talk to you later.”

“You too.”

The line clicked off after that, and as he took a breath and composed himself, he felt like he could breathe for the first time that day.

***

Five minutes later, Rob played the final beats of Years and leaned back on his throne. Looking up, he shared another moment of eye contact with Sam. This time, they both knew that was the take.

“The fuck are you hiding in that bathroom, Pennie,” came Sam as Rob stood up and wiped his brow. “That take was night-and-day from the last one.”

“Magical shit–I don’t know,” came a dry reply from Rob, but a buzzing in his pocket kept him from taking the joke further.

“One second,” he called out to Sam, but he had always gone to the room over, looking towards either Jane or Austin in the next room. Looking back down at his phone, he was fairly unsurprised to see who was calling.

“Hey Evan,” he said in a sing-song tone.

“I’ll cut the bullshit–I caught wind of a rumor MAE is touring in early August. Confirm or deny?”

“I’m not TMZ.”

“So you do know when she’s touring?”

“Evan, you’re a resourceful guy,” Rob said, “so why don’t you tell me when my ex-wife is touring?”

“I have to ask,” came his canned reply. “Recording going well?”

“Going great,” he said. “I take it you have a few venues lined up?”

“Something even better. Tell the others to keep Friday night clear.”

“Two days from now?”

“That’s Friday, yeah. I have some calls to make. I’m scheduling a conference call tonight with PR and the Marketing guys.”

“This sounds pretty ‘secret show,’ to me, Evan.”

“Just pass the word.”

The line cut off after that.

Before the thought left his mind, he shot off a text to the band’s group chat:

Conference call with a bunch of record people sometime tonight. Plus Evan wants to keep our Friday clear.

Before he could set the phone down, Austin was quick to reply”

The fuck???

As for Rob, he had just let go of one major source of anxiety and dumped his drink. If he tried to think about the prospect of playing in front of a live audience in two days, he’d likely be back at the liquor store before the end of the night.

Pushing the thought aside and hoping Evan would clarify it later on, Rob went into the adjoining room. Here, J sat wrapped up and seemingly waiting for him.

If any vestigial anxiety remained, it vanished the moment he saw her. He gladly sat with her, and looking up, Sam had given the two a sly grin before disappearing up the stairs.

“When did he get cool?” he asked aloud. He laughed slightly at his own joke, before turning back to J.

God, the way she looked at him.

“Absolutely,” he replied to her. “And I had an idea for low-key.”

***

After an hour, Rob was parking a rental car in an empty lot a thousand feet or so north of Laguna Beach. It was a spot Austin actually told him about, a few years back.

There was a small gazebo across a small, grassy field at the end of a residential street that rarely attracted visitors, and if you timed it just right–and Rob had–you could have it all to yourself.

Rob knew J was likely be apprehensive about being out and about in public. Or maybe he was projecting that, because lord knew he was certainly nervous. But either way, the empty gazebo was a welcome sight.

Rob snagged his impromptu picnic gear and led the two to the cliffside retreat. “Long Beach, it is not,” he started, “but it’s quiet, and there’s a really nice downtown not far from here. ...if that’s something you’d be into.”

There was a funny sort of fractal mix of comfort and nervous excitement about being out with J again. It was one part being-with-old-friends and one part first-date-jitters.

Still, he couldn’t drop his smile as he and her sat down out here. The ocean air, the breeze that signified the endless summer... it almost made him miss the California air, and dread the Seattle moody skies and constant drizzle.

Almost.

“I don’t really get views like this back home,” he said aloud. “Sure, the Cascades are beautiful but... you know.”

He gave a general gesture which roughly translated to ‘this is home.’

Because in a way, it was. Out and about, with Jane, in Southern California. What else could have been home?

In Bloom: The Reunion

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?

***

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 long time ago!”

“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—”

“Greenville, South Carolina. 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. This motherfucker, without so much as thinking, makes himself a mushroom pizza—”

“—I was high—”

“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 cradle you, dude.”

Sam’s face was beet red from embarrassment. “So that’s your 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 was 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?

In Bloom: The Reunion

Rob could barely get his pants on before the second call from an all-too-impatient Uber driver hit his phone. He mashed ‘accept’ and tossed the phone into a wedge between his ear and shoulder.

“Thirty seconds, max, I’m sorry, bye,” he practically listed off. He could hear the start of a reply before he hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket.

His door flew open as he pressed on to the staircase. Before he could even register her, Jane slipped past with a quick ‘good luck!’

He was halfway down the staircase before calling out a “thank you!” Within another ten seconds, the door to the Uber shut and they were off.

The proceeding hour and a half was slow and fast all the same. The hilly landscapes in Orange County soon gave way to familiar territory.

It felt like a nostalgia trip on a speed run. One street they flew past, Rob could distinctly remember meeting up with a man he met on Craigslist for a cheap pair of drum heads. The next, he remembered brushing past paparazzi with Jane on their way back home.

It was all too much. The flask he had slipped in his pocket seemed to burn for his attention. But luckily it was his phone which got it first—buzzing sharply and ripping him out of his trance.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” came Mae’s soft reply. Rob’s ‘dad mode’ kicked in sharply as he sat up in his seat.

As with all calls with Mae these days, it was terse, succinct, and disquieting.

“How’s it going?” Rob began.

“All fine, Elle’s fine, just misses you is all.”

“I miss her too.”

“I know that.”

A beat passed between them. Then:

“I hear you’re teaching kids how to play at your Guitar Center today.”

“I just found out myself. Your people are good.”

“New album coming out soon?”

“We have some songs down.”

“I heard ‘Everything’ on the radio the other day.”

“Yeah?”

“Glad it’s going well for you.”

“Thanks.”

A full four agonizing seconds passed before Rob took the bait.

“So,” he started, “is it going well for you?”

“Me? Oh… yeah, I think so. Got the main LP sorted, just working on some stuff we can push out early before the cycle starts. My manager says if we launch with our best work it’s going to get trashed simply because it’s new, so whatever comes out first is going to take the brunt of any criticism. So, the plan is to launch something soft first before doing a music video.”

“That’s nice.”

“It’s been amazing, Rob. Back in the studio, trying out new stuff… you know, when you aren’t doing it for the money, it’s a completely different experience.”

“Okay.”

“Well, I mean–I’m not implying anything there you know, about your finances-“

“I’m well off, Mae. I get what you mean.”

“I know that.”

“I’m just saying ‘okay,’ there’s nothing behind it.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Another painful pause.

“We’re not going to make our FaceTime call again today,” Mae admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“I thought we agreed to seven?”

“We did, yes.”

“I can’t really do any other time.”

“I can do in thirty minutes, but you have this gig set up.”

“Could you send a picture? I’d like to recognize my daughter next time I see her.”

“That’s really not necessary, Rob.”

“Is that what you called to talk about?”

“Among other things, yes.”

“Which other things?”

“This doesn’t feel productive. I guess I’ve said what I needed to say.”

“What isn’t productive? I’m asking what else you wanted to talk about.”

“There’s something behind that–“

“There’s nothing behind that.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. I’m glad the recording is going well.”

“Thank you. Everything good on your end? Jane?”

“What about her?”

“The band–I mean–going well?”

“She’s good. We’re good. Hoping to put something out soon. ‘Everything’ did well so we’re aiming for more.”

“Can I ask when the release date is?”

“…I don’t know. How about yours?”

“…still working that one out. But I’ll shoot straight with you, the record guys don’t want me to tell you when we do have a date.”

“So you do have a date?”

“…we’re close to one, yes.”

“Well, you can tell your ‘record guys’ the father of your daughter needs to know at some point so he can care for her while you’re on promo.”

“I’m sure someone can care for her—”

“No. Not someone. Me.”

“You’ve got a lot going on.”

“I’m aware. I’m heading to Guitar Center as we speak.”

“I’m keeping my promo in Seattle this time. You don’t need to put yourself out coming all the way up here.”

“It isn’t putting myself out, it’s my daughter.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Sure. Yeah.”

“…I have a few meetings in LA next week. Maybe we can work something out?”

“Absolutely we can. We’re in Orange County.”

“It’ll be short. Maybe three hours? LAX to West Hollywood and back.”

“Just text me the details, I know an aquarium nearby she’d like.”

“Great. Probably next Tuesday. I’ll see you then?”

“I’ll see you then.”

“Great. Love you, bye.”

“Bye.”

Rob hung up the phone and took a deep breath. With each passing year, talking with Mae was becoming a cold war. And knowing how much his own parents argued when he was a kid, keeping it from Elle was getting harder and harder.

“Hey, um,” the Uber driver started. “We’re almost there. Looks like a crowd is forming.”

Looking out the window of the Uber, Rob could see what he meant. There was a line stretching about fifty feet from the front door all the way around the block. Three or four paparazzi sat on the curb apart from the line, eyes up and darting from car to car.

“Thanks for the head’s up,” Rob replied. He pulled out his phone and looked into the camera.

On the screen, he could see his eyes had become red and puffy. Had he been crying?

Before he could answer his own thought, the driver passed him a few tissues.

“I’ve got an ex-wife too, you know,” he said. “I get it.”

“Thanks,” was all he could muster out. He quickly cleaned himself up and ripped the flask from his pocket. He downed about two big gulps before shoving it back into his pocket and straightening himself out.

“Hopefully this goes better than that phone call.”

--

Dealing with paparazzi was becoming an increasingly normal affair for Rob. While he despised it, he knew it was nothing compared to the level of shit Mae and Jane had to deal with. As the cameras clicked away, he smiled slightly as he shook a few hands and entered inside.

A small stage had been set up in here for him—a drum set arranged to his liking was already on stage, mic’ed up and ready to go.

“Evan moves fast,” he commented aloud.

“He sent over twenty photos the moment he called,” came the response.

Turning around. Rob could see who had said it.

“…plus, I had a hunch about what you liked.”

“Joan, holy shit!” Rob exclaimed. He bear-hugged her before she could get another word out.

Joan Owens was the general manager of this Guitar Center way back when he came in with a jar full of crumbled twenties and tens, hoping to buy his first kit. She had even put her own employee discount on there so he could accord the tax.

That was over twenty years ago, and here she was like no time had passed at all.

“Good to see you too, Robbie,” she replied, patting his back in a way that clearly meant ‘please let go.’

Rob obliged and smiled brighter than he had all day. “You still run this place?”

“Yes and no,” came her bright reply. Aside from her auburn hair turning a graceful gray, she seemingly hadn’t aged a day. “I run this place and most of LA county’s locations.”

Rob was beaming at that. “Man, I wish you’d called.”

“Oh please, I sold you a drum kit, your big break wasn’t me. Plus, you could have called me.”

“Fair point.”

--

The two-hour stint at Guitar Center flew by after that. Rob talked to a few local reporters, played a few In Bloom songs, and proceeded to sign something-near three hundred papers, bags, drum skins, sticks, and just every merch item he remembered they had ever made.

He barely had a moment to say goodbye to Joan before being whisked away yet again. With traffic against him, he had his driver swing him through a drive-thru and scarfed down a burger while on the phone with Evan.

“You’ll be back in time for set up, right?” came his first question. “Also, good job.”

“Thanks, and yes,” Rob replied. He was more focused on not making a mess of this poor driver’s back seat than Evan’s questioning.

“Footage looks good, paparazzi photos came out well, good engagement, good metrics.”

“Glad the metrics are good,” Rob said, not even trying to hide his disinterest.

“You hear from Mae recently?”

“I’m not your mole, Evan.”

“I have to ask.”

Rob took a deep breath. “…she has a date, but she won’t tell me when it is.”

“She’s got good managers, then.”

“Not helpful,” Rob interjected. “But she mentioned leading with stuff that won’t be on the album, and a music video.”

“I assumed both, but glad to have my suspicions confirmed. Get back soon and sober. Looking forward to the video.”

The line cut off after that.

--

Back at the AirBnB, recording for ‘Everything’ went off without a hitch. Three takes seemed to take it out of J. Their staging seemed to try to hide her bad foot, but twist it uncomfortably all the same.

He desperately wanted to approach her afterwards, but what could he say?

Where things stood, they were at a crossroads. His intentions were laid bare, and she reciprocated. Now what?

Rob caught Sam and Austin’s glares as he stood up from his cajon and began to help load the vans. They seemed wholly unapproachable now, more than ever.

Before he could say anything more he felt her beside him.

”Wanna cigarette?

He breathed a sigh of relief as he followed her to the patio. But that relief quickly turned to tension as he watched her try to get the words out.

It was an adolescent feeling—like a rollercoaster ride. Rob’s heart pounded in his chest.

“I’ve never gotten over you, Rob.”

Rob sucked in a breath to speak, but yet again, for the second time today, he never got the chance. He held it until both Jane and Austin disappeared back into the house.

“Fuck,” he breathed out.

Why was there never enough time?

--

It was late now, and Rob found himself in the corner of a local Irish pub. The crowd had grown from a weekday night crowd to a Friday night one as word leaked out that all of In Bloom were gracing Orange County with their presence.

Fame was a complicated subject for him. His own minor fame had stressed him out enough, but the massive worldwide fame that held at his periphery during the Mae years and the parasitic leeches that clung to J during her down years had more than soured him on the idea.

He was positioned between two crew members and Sam sharing war stories on a tour they had been on. Some other regional act Sam had been with in the intervening years. He appreciated not having to talk, but the fourth Guinness of the night burned in his hand.

For someone trying to take it easy, this wasn’t exactly a perfect atmosphere.

Rob looked over several heads to see J with some others about twenty feet away. From his distance, with the flashing lights and darkness, he couldn’t even tell who she was with. But he was more than confident a bar wasn’t exactly her favorite place to be either.

Why were they here? And why did Austin invite J to a bar?

The two had just been to an AA meeting days ago, and while Rob certainly had demons of his own, the idea of bringing J to a bar was incredibly shitty.

He had finally had enough of the ruminating. He was going to talk to J. At least, if he could help it. He was tired of trying to find the right time. Clearly, the right time didn’t exist.

He left the conversation and crossed half the distance between them before Austin suddenly got in the way.

“Hey buddy,” came a bitter greeting from Austin. “Heading out?”

“No, just wanted to talk to J,” he replied. His head was buzzing from the music and drinks, and he tried to push aside Austin to continue forward.

But Austin blocked his way again.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you about something—”

“What’s up, man?” Rob skipped the pretense. “Why don’t you want me to talk to her?”

Austin’s feigned befuddlement at Rob’s question only pissed Rob off further. “I didn’t say that,” he replied.

“Don’t bullshit me, Austin,” Rob said. He was surprised at how angry the words came out. “And why the fuck would you invite her to a bar?”

“I wanted to go out with my friends?”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“And you’re drunk.”

“Hey, guys?”

The sound of a third voice caught Rob off guard. He turned to his side to see Sam, looking concerned.

Rob looked up to see that a few people had opened up a gap between Rob and Austin. Peering eyes were staring from all directions. Without realizing it, they were making a scene. Rob’s fists were already balled.

Sam leaned in closer. “Maybe not here.”

Rob eyed Austin up and down for a moment, but his eyes showed no remorse. In this moment, he wanted nothing more than to deck him for the ‘drunk’ comment.

Instead, he gave a weak smile and lightly tapped him with his fist on the shoulder, before downing his Guinness, leaving it at the bar, and turning around.

The crowd seemed to part like the red sea as he went into the men’s room. Rob found an open stall, locked himself in, and sat down.

The flask in his pocket was downed in another ten seconds. He took a second look at the empty flask, before throwing it hard against the tile floor.

Three tiles cracked and the flask dented as it clattered away.

After another thirty seconds, he heard the bathroom door open and shut. On the other end of the stall door, Sam’s muted voice came through.

“Aren’t you a little old to be getting into bar fights?”

“I didn’t get in a fight, Sam,” Rob replied. “I’m just stressed out.”

“Hey, I get it,” Sam said. “I heard what Austin said. I’d get mad too.”

“It’s not just that. Mae… I’ve got a lot of home shit on my mind.”

“And Evan isn’t helping I presume?”

Rob didn’t reply to that.

“Maybe let’s talk later, yeah? I picked up an eighth we can smoke at the pool after everyone finishes up here.”

The stall door opened, and Rob stepped out.

“Let me, uh… get a club soda and I’ll meet back up with you guys in a minute.”

Sam nodded. “Don’t be too long in here, weirdo.”

He turned on his heel and left with a smile.

Trying not to ruminate too hard on dealing with Austin, Rob washed his face and stepped back out into the bar.

After snagging his club soda, he took a look around the bar. No Austin or J in sight, but it was a big bar with a lot of smaller rooms they could be in—together or separately. Were they still here? Were they talking?

There was no way to be sure. Rob tried his best to put it aside.

His conversation with J would have to wait. What was another few hours after ten years?

In Bloom: The Reunion

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 Emma Ruth Rundle 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 Phoebe Bridgers 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 embarrassed 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. How did her interview go?

“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 Everything 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.

”Oh, shit.” 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.

In Bloom: The Reunion

FOUR YEARS AGO

Rob’s stood a hair’s breadth from the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined all three sides of the rented penthouse suite.

Looking down at the Las Vegas skyline, he could make out little more than bleary lights, glares, and the tiny movement of cars below.

“You’ll get arrested for that, you know?”

The voice came from behind him. He turned to see Adrianna on the bed--her back on the headboard of the bed, glaring at him from behind a crossed foot.

“For looking at Vegas?”

“For looking at Vegas naked, Rob.”

Rob looked down at himself. He had completely forgotten that in fact, both of them were naked.

How long had it been since they had f–

“Come over, idiot.”

Adrianna snapped him out of it. In between anything-but-sober sex, she had a strange mean streak–as if she was imitating playful snark but forgot the playful part of it.

Still, obliging, Rob returned to her in the bed and lay with his head on her belly. She cradled it, and the two continued:

“Always lost in that big, dumb head of yours, huh?”

It was a funny enough statement from her, because at the present moment, there was essentially nothing in Rob’s head. Just a cloudy mix of vague memories and pleasure.

“What?” he replied, “Like you never think?”

“What’s there to think about?” came a short reply. “None of this is rocket science, and frankly, it’s a bit of a turn-off. You’re probably thinking about her again, aren’t you?”

“Oh, really?” Rob shot back. He wasn’t interested in taking that one lying down. He moved up from her belly and slipped himself underneath a leg. “You think I’m thinking about Jane, huh?”

“Oh, we can say her name, now?” Adrianna tried to counter, but her shaky breath gave her away. She knew what game Rob was starting. “I thought it was off-limits.”

“I haven’t thought about her in years,” Rob replied. He placed one hand on either of her knees and positioned himself between them. “It’s Mae I’m thinking of when we fuck.”

“Oh, silly me,” Adrianna replied. Rob could feel every muscle tense up beneath his fingers. “I should’ve known that’s all this was.”

Rob lowered his head towards her as he spoke–never breaking eye contact as his hands slid upward. “How about I think about who I want, and you think about who you want, yeah?”

“Please, shut the fuck up,” Adrianna finally broke. Rob felt a hand grasp the back of his head and push down, hard.

PRESENT DAY

The world rushed back to Rob as he broke the surface tension and gasped for air.

His head spun on a swivel, scouring every inch of the rental’s backyard.

No one was out here. Not yet.

Why was he thinking about that?

He pushed himself from the pool and snagged his flask by his shirt and phone. He took several long swigs as he plopped down on the pool chair and opened his phone.

One missed call, and one message. Both from Mae.

Just calling to say hi. We won’t be able to make the Elle FaceTime appointment tomorrow. Mastering a few tracks. Does the day after work?

Rob rolled his eyes, and tapped out a fast response. It works. Happy to hear you’re mastering tracks. Let’s not miss this next call.

It was the second time she had delayed a FaceTime call with Elle.

Within seconds, a response: You can always come home, you know.

At that, he tossed the phone aside. He wasn’t going to play semantics with an ex-wife who was doing the same thing he was doing. She knew this was happening, and she knew it was happening first.

He tried his best to put it aside, finished his flask, and went back into the pool.

Why was he thinking about Adrianna? About Mae?

Those thoughts kept intruding on him as he waited for Jane and the others to come out. He swam laps to try to distract himself, but it didn’t seem to be working.

What was it about now? About when he decided he was finally done trying to feign friendship when he knew he felt more strongly about J?

He came up from the water again to see her, coming out from inside, setting her crutches down.

Maybe it was because he had a kid now. An ex-wife. Baggage.

As the Mars Volta song came on, he turned his attention to the song and the words. Better that than what he had in mind.

”I thought you were going out with Adrianna tonight.”

Without thinking, Rob laughed at the suggestion, before stopping himself.

“I’m sorry,” he started, “I think she’d like that, but no.” His eyes turned again to the crutches. “Swimming should help get weight off that foot, yeah?”

He moved to almost cradle her in the water before stopping himself. Muscle memory kicking in from all those years ago. He tried his best to play it off as repositioning in the water, but he doubted it worked very well.

On the other end of the house, he heard a car drive off. “I take it Austin didn’t want to go swimming?”

With J now here, in front of him–her dark eyebrows floating above those unmistakable eyes–the intrusive thoughts seemed to fade away.

This was home, in its own way. This was comfortable.

Rob moved to the edge of the pool and snagged his pack, quickly lighting up a cigarette. He offered her one before leaning back.

He panged slightly with anxiety–he wanted to bring up this morning–but when he looked up to her, he calmed down just a bit.

This was Jane. He knew her. What was there to be scared of?

Rejection.

The word rang in his head, briefly, before fading out.

“Oh,” he started, “I wanted to say I’m sorry it’s been weird, too. But today was real fuckin’ productive. I uh... I slept well last night. Real well. I hope you did too.” He didn’t even try to hide his subtext.

Sure, he could have been blunter. But he at least wanted to offer J an out if she wanted to avoid it.

In Bloom: The Reunion

Don’t be shy... come on out!

Adrianna’s text burned into Rob’s eyes like an afterimage. His nascent peace seemed to be at a fast end.

At the present moment, what sounded nice was an evening of rehearsal, followed by a night of bleary lights and fast drinks–maybe fucking–with Adrianna. It was a simple night, and one he had enjoyed all-too-often in the past.

That’s what sounded nice. But it isn’t what he wanted.

What he wanted was slipping down the stairs. As if on cue, Sam slipped upstairs, muttering something about needing a drink.

Within a moment, it was just him and J.

”Hi.”

Her meek smile met his, and he smiled back.

It was a simple thing, really. But no matter how many years passed, there was a quiet comfort when it was just the two of them. The concept of home hadn’t applied to him in a long time–he moved from place to place the moment his yearly lease ended–but Jane was home.

Still, his smile faded a bit as she apologized. Called herself wierd. Clearly wanted to blow off last night.

Rob didn’t hide his disappointment on his face. He used to be so stoic, so calm. And he still was, when he wanted to be.

The thing was, he didn’t particularly want to be right now.

It didn’t take much to put two-and-two together. From Austin’s attitude to this apology. He knew what had happened, and he was trying to smother it in the crib.

But there wasn’t much Austin could do to stop this. This had been going on for a decade, and Rob had his doubts about whether this would be the end of it now.

It was kind of funny, really. He had spent the better part of this week and rather, the entirety of their time in Orange County denying the fact that he wanted Jane. But in this moment, right now?

He wasn’t going to hide how he felt.

He wanted the band to work, sure. He wanted it more with each day–each song they wrote.

But he wanted Jane. Whether or not she wanted him in this moment, or in any way, didn’t really matter. None of it did. Not the fights, not the ODs, not leaving in the night heartbroken.

He’d have to find the right time, sure. Not now, not during rehearsal. And he still had little idea about how she’d react, or if she would, or anything like that.

But it was nice to have a little bit of clarity, even if it was internal.

”Ready to make some music?”

Rob nodded. “Let’s do it.”

***

Three hours passed in a moment, and it seemed–at least to Rob–like the most productive three hours they had so far.

Three songs, including the track he and Sam banged out, were put to tape and sent to Evan that night. At this point, they had more than enough material to play with for an LP. Evan even made a passing comment over text to Rob that a double-LP should be considered, but still, there was a long way to go.

‘Everything’ was pretty much the only song completely locked down. Three of four tracks still needed hard lyrics. About half the songs Rob wasn’t set on for his part, and knowing Sam, he wasn’t happy with a single cord yet.

But it was more than a start, it was significant progress. The next step towards finishing their work here.

Which brought up a good question: what the hell happened after they finished this album?

Breaking out from behind the kit, Rob emerged sweaty and panting from the final track recording of the night. He essentially inhaled a Gatorade in the time it took to walk from the drumset to the recording booth where the others waited.

“Good?” He gasped out to Sam. Sam nodded subtly–his eyes locked on the waveforms on the DAW.

Typically, that meant more than good to him.

“Cool.”

Rob snagged a towel from his bag and looked to the others.

“Hell of a session guys, I think we gave Sam more than enough to fuck around with tonight.”

“Yeah... I’m gonna UberEats some dinner,” Sam said–eyes still glued to the monitor. “I’m not getting up for a while.”

Rob turned and made deliberate eye contact with Jane. “I think I’m gonna go for a swim upstairs if anyone is interested.”

“I might take you up on that,” Austin replied.

Rob turned to see Austin’s less-than-pleased face. He had read Rob like a book–not that Rob had been trying to be subtle.

“Cool cool, see you upstairs, yeah?”

Rob turned on his heel and went to his room for his swimsuit.

As he ascended, he checked his phone. A single missed call from Adrianna. No text messages.

That’d have to do, for now.

He changed quickly into his black trunks and was making his way to the sliding door before his phone buzzed.

This time, from Austin.

What are you doing?

Rob rolled his eyes, and typed out a quick–

Swimming?

–before putting the phone on the counter and heading outside.

Standing at the edge of the pool, he thought about Austin.

Their relationship was more than cordial–they were friends. Good friends. But the longer things went on, he had a feeling that they’d be tested a little bit.

But then again–they all would. The album was going to be done before they knew it. Evan would want a tour, immediately. There was a good chance it would do well. Success was very much possible.

Rob looked to the water, took a deep breath, and jumped.

No regrets, no games. Not this time. Not if he could help it.

In Bloom: The Reunion

Rob fell into and out of sleep tonight–which was a bit unusual for him, given how often he slept drunk.

His mind kept replaying the night before. The panic in J’s eyes as she stepped outside with Jared. The reply from Adrianna on a bright screen, in a dark room. Liz’s surprised eyes when he pulled her hand from his pants.

Nothing was right. Jane had left him for someone else.

And why not? Why was that no longer okay?

Rob slept soundly the years after the breakup. All of the photos of all of the night spent high on the town. The Jane’s Addiction years as the press called it. He was never bothered by the thought of Jane with someone else.

But all of a sudden, it bothered him now. Was it being back in In Bloom, or was it just being back in her presence.

He wasn’t sure, but for the fifth time that night, he tried to shake it off and close his eyes to sleep.

It wouldn’t be another five minutes before he heard the door creak open, then shut again. In the darkness, soft footsteps pattered across the floor towards him.

It was Jane. He didn’t even need to turn around or get up to look. He knew those footsteps. He knew the way she snuck back in bed to join him, even after all these years.

His heart beat sharply in his chest. Any lingering drunkenness was struck down by sobering clarity.

The fuck was she doing?

He completely froze as he felt her pull back his covers. The momentary cool air of the room struck him before he felt her warmth against his turned back. Her bare heel slid down his calf and looped a foot around his.

He heard her nuzzle into the empty space on the bed and breathe out.

She was back? How long had she been back? Was it morning yet? Why hadn’t I heard it? I’ve been barely sleeping for hours, and I didn’t hear her come back? Where’s Jared?

The questions buzzed around in his head, but still he remained frozen.

It was only after a minute did he realize he was frozen because–whatever was happening–he wasn’t interested in it ending.

He waited patiently in the quiet room instead, calming his heart, waiting for the soft snore that came from J whenever she first entered sleep.

And when he heard it, he turned around.

He slipped an arm just underneath her turned head and held her close to him. Whether consciously or not, she backed into the embrace. His fingers intertwined with hers across her chest. And two pieces formed a whole they had not held in nearly a decade.

Rob found it much easier to fall asleep after that.

***

When he woke up, the bed was empty—her space cold.

It was as if he had blinked and missed the moment, but there was little evidence that the event had ever taken place.

Rob sat up and rubbed his eyes. He rose, perhaps, a bit too quickly, given his stomach’s protests. He bolted for the bathroom and spilled the night before into the toilet.

When he returned back to his bed, he realized it couldn’t have been a dream.

Her smell–however faint–filled the pillow she had once lay on.

He knew it happened.

So now what?

***

A few hours passed, and Rob surprisingly had no appetite for his sin. Instead, he had spent the morning quietly getting high by the pool, and devoured the eggs and spam he dug out of the kitchen.

“How’d you sleep?”

Rob turned to see Austin slipping into the counter-side chair. He wore some sort of lime-green robe and looked like hell.

“Better than you, I’d guess,” Rob shot back. He pointed to his pan of haphazard breakfast. “Want some?”

“I’ll stick with the donuts I ordered, thanks,” he replied. “Should be here in a minute.”

Rob shrugged, tossing the pan full of contents onto a plate, and took his place next to Austin.

“You got another?” Austin asked.

Rob laughed; pulling a joint from a pocket and passing it to Austin. “You never ask. That bad?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Austin almost snorted out. “Stressed as fuck, but fine.”

“How’d last night go?”

“I could ask you the same.”

Rob turned to see what Austin had meant about that, but he seemed to quickly continue on as if he hadn’t made the comment.

“Just a rough night. Jane’s fine, she was just embarrassed about falling off her board. She’s gonna take it easy, so I dunno if she’s joining practice today.”

“Oh, fuck,” Rob replied. “You sure she’s good? I can get her some breakfast—”

“She’s good, Rob.”

Rob shrugged; he wasn’t interested in Austin taking him down from the relative peace he felt from a good night’s sleep and a morning’s smoke.

“Sorry–“ Austin continued. “I’m just–we pushed back some interviews. Kind of annoyed at the moment.”

Austin lit up and turned to face Rob directly for the first time this morning.

“Can I ask you something?”

Rob chortled. “Yeah–fuck–your mom die?”

“Four years ago, that’s not the point.”

This wasn’t the Austin that Rob knew. Something happened. Something serious. But he wasn’t sure what.

Austin continued. “You want In Bloom to be a thing, right? Like–you’re here for the band?”

Rob was taken aback by the question. What did Austin know?

“Yeah, of course,” he started. “I mean–it’s no secret I’m not broke. And, I’d be back with Elle in a heartbeat, you know that… so yeah. I’m putting up a lot to be here. I want to be here.”

“…for the band?”

“Yeah,” Rob replied. “I missed it.”

Austin looked like he wanted to say something, but the doorbell rang.

“That’s me,” he said, getting up without another word. “See you at practice, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Rob said. He shook his head and started to finally eat his breakfast.

***

Rob spent most of the afternoon buried in the basement working out some basic rudiments.

After the joint wore off, he wanted to stay sober. Whether that was for Austin or for being as aware as possible to ask Jane what the fuck happened that night, he wasn’t sure.

But something in him lit up last light.

He talked about it briefly with Elle and Mae when he had their daily FaceTime call around lunch.

“I’m serious,” he told them, “I really think this is going to be the best album we’ve done.”

“I’m so excited for you,” Mae had responded in her usual, dulcet tone. The longer they were divorced, the less he could tell when she was joking or not. “I’ll have to send you some demos soon, we oughta trade them.”

From what she implied, Mae was a few months out from promoting whatever new MAE material was coming out, so that was good news he shared with Evan as soon as he could.

Afterwards, he spent a lot of time warming up to be ready for 5:00PM practice. His playing today felt sharper, more aggressive than it had been before–but cleaner.

He had worked around Jane’s Everything for the last song, but this time, he was trying out something on his own. An idea that jammed into his head–something that was a bit more mind-numbing. Something to swarm to.

As he worked it out, Sam came downstairs around 3:00PM. Intead of saying a word, he watched Rob from the sound room for a few minutes. He turned, produced his fretless guitar, hit the record button, and slipped into the room.

After plugging in, Sam turned to Rob for a cue.

It was like they had been building up to a song that was already written. Sam jumped in right on cue, and it sounded as chaotic and as frantic as Rob’s playing. It reminded him of a Dead Poets Society track.

They jammed on it for a good ten minutes before building to a crescendo. Finally, the two faded out, and Sam ran back to the sound room to save it.

“Good shit, Pennie!” he exclaimed when he ran back into the room. Rob could only laugh–his good moments were few and far between with Sam, but he was enjoying this. At least, as best he could until Jane made an appearance.

What happened after that, he wasn’t sure.

He and Sam jammed on a few old Blue October tracks until Austin tricked downstairs–surprisingly in more dour spirits than Sam for once. Still, he hopped on the track until they had all finished warming up, and five o’clock struck.

“Let me see how she’s doing,” Austin said softly after the song faded out, and disappeared upstairs.

Sam looked to Rob after he left.

“What’s with him?”

Rob shrugged in response.

But whatever it was, he was certainly nervous.

What did Austin know?

It was the thought that reverberated in his head as he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

He flipped it open to see a second text from Adrianna—one in response to his silence from the first:

Adrianna: I’ll be at the usual spot tonight. Don’t be shy, come on out… unless you and J are back on the menu??

Rob almost threw the phone down next to his seat.

He had enjoyed the past few hours. If he could enjoy just a few minutes more without worrying, he’d appreciate it.

For the first time all day, he really wanted a drink.

In Bloom: The Reunion

The blurred streets of Orange County roared by on the way to the NA meeting.

The small, but faint buzz he had built up from his compulsive trip to the bathroom earlier was already gone, and in its place, fear.

It wasn’t the kind of fear that someone typically felt when going to one of these meetings. Or, at least, it wasn’t the type of fear Rob figured was felt. In reality, this was the first time he had ever gone to one.

It was more so the fear that he may need to start going to these.

The thought made him feel terrible.

’What’s wrong with going to these? J goes to these. Is something wrong with her? Are you better than her?’

The thoughts rattled around in a head he wanted so desperately to be present. He could feel Jane next to him--practically radiating. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her hand loosely grip the upholstery between them.

He very nearly took it. It was an old instinct--a muscle memory that hadn’t fully atrophied out with time. He wondered how often Jane knew the difference between when he took her hand to support or took it to be supported. Or if it really mattered, at this point.

Jane was moved on. It was a fact he wasn’t entirely convinced of, and in many ways, didn’t believe--but it was one he needed to accept. For her sake, as well as his.

He turned his head slightly further out the window; Jane’s hand disappearing out of his periphery.

--

The anxiety seemed to build until Jane first started speaking into the microphone.

The air in here was stuffy and warm. The rattling air conditioner above them seemed to lack the freon it needed. Instead, the room wafted in its own potent air.

But it all seemed to fade away when Jane started to speak.

At first, the story brought back memories Rob couldn’t help but look back on with happiness. All the times he and the others kicked around rocks and loitered in parking lots near 10th and Cherry, waiting for Jane to pop around the corner–booze in hand.

But it didn’t last.

The story turned--and Rob left it. Jane’s rock bottom and recovery had nothing to do with him. And not that he wanted an ounce of credit for Jane’s recovery, but he had to admit the thought of being absent stung a little bit.

Perhaps it's how she felt about Elle and Mae. About his own life, he forged together without her. The one that wasn’t exactly on solid ground.

She signaled for him, and he pushed the thoughts aside.

’God, he thought to himself, ’Way to make this about you, huh?’

Outside, the tension started to fade away. It was just Jane and Rob in a back alley splitting a pack. The way it had always been. Home base.

Rob slipped the pack from Jane, flicked one out and lit up with the same flame as her. This muscle memory he could actually use.

As Jane slipped his participation trophy in his hand, he couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll cherish it forever,” came a wry response.

It was funny spending this much time with Jane. One moment she was growing, changing, becoming a different person altogether. The next, it was as if not a day went by since the last time they’d done this.

It was all at once comforting and scary.

“Yeah,” came an automatic response to her. He really did want to get the fuck out of here.

As they turned to make their way to the street corner, Rob’s hand gently pressed at the small of J’s back--as it always had when he steered her before. His nerves fired, and he quickly removed it.

Fuckin’ muscle memory.

--

Rob waited for Jared’s arrival in the living room with Sam. As a measure of half-assed moderation, he had made a new rule for himself.

At least attempt not to drink alone.

Plus, it didn’t help to speak to Sam more. He had always been the odd one out in the group. Rob, Jane, and Austin were more of the high school trio. Sam was the hired help, and that old dynamic still seemed to linger something near fifteen years later.

Also, you tend to feel guilty after punching someone in the face.

“This was South by Southwest, two years ago,” Sam continued. He was haunched over a bit on the couch, showing Rob some blurry concert footage. On stage, Rob could make out Sam’s usual energy smashing down on his strings. “Vicarious wanted a bigger sound, so I flew in for them. We opened for Pretty Reckless. Which was fucking weird, cause we sound nothing like them, but still.”

Rob tried not to note the usage of we too much and nodded. “You always loved their sound. Surprised they didn’t poach you back in the day.”

“Oh, they tried!”

“Really?”

“...fuck no,” Sam laughed. “We were bigger than them at the time. Even if they had asked, I had said no. Too much invested with you assholes.”

Rob half-heartedly pushed Sam aside. “Glad we’re good for a paycheck.”

“And a big one, too. Got a cash advance from Evan; it’s more than I make in a year.”

The two laughed over it. “Maybe you’ll get enough to move out somewhere.”

“Fuck that,” came Sam’s immediate response. “My world stretches from Torrence to Anaheim. I’m not you guys. But that isn’t to say I can’t get a better house.”

Rob smiled. Out of all of them, in his own way, Sam had seemingly found the most peace. Not that he was anywhere near tortured in the In Bloom days.

The doorbell rang immediately after, and Rob’s smile faded as he went to the door.

He tried not to look too closely at Jane as Jared stepped inside. A pang of jealousy sprouted almost immediately, but he shoved it down.

Not here. Not now.

He smiled, he waved, and as Jared turned to leave, Rob was almost in the clear when--

”My sister’s coming next week.”

His eyes looked down to the post-it note on the counter, and back up to meet Jane’s eyes.

The only thing he could make out was a wide-eyed surprise, before the door slammed shut between them.

Several seconds passed with the three guys in the foyer. No one said a word.

It was so quiet you could hear Austin’s wristwatch click.

But finally, Sam broke.

“So are you and J gonna implode the band again, or--?”

“Sam,” Austin cut in. “Please... shut the fuck up.”

Rob slipped upstairs to his room before another word was said--note in tow.

--

Thirty minutes later, Rob was still slumped over at the foot of his bed. Adrianna’s number had been logged into his phone and the text message was all typed out. Unsent. Sitting on a dying phone.

Did Jared know about Adrianna? Did J?

Because they had a much longer history than a one-night stand during the In Bloom days.

For lack of a better word, Rob and Adrianna were fuck buddies. He wasn’t a fan of the term, but it was the truth.

It started about six months after breaking up with J and shortly before meeting Mae. The two had bumped into each other at a house party way out in Chino Hills. He could hardly explain how it started, but the night ended in San Bernardino, and five hundred dollars in cash was gone.

They saw each other weekly after that, but it didn’t last long. Rob met Mae, and the rest was history.

The next time he saw her was after taking care of some business back in Long Beach. He and Mae had flown in separately to clear out a final storage unit of shit as a sort of final couple’s trip before Mae fucked off to Montreal with some new boyfriend.

This time, Rob called Adrianna directly. He even drove all the way to Pheonix. That little getaway cost something like seven thousand dollars by the end of the week.

It was a pretty easy arrangement for both of them. They both were into each other for a singular, physical reason, and Rob had the disposable income (and let’s face it, wealth at a certain point) to organize a few trysts for them.

But, like all things, it fizzled out. Flying hundreds of miles to get laid stopped being appealing by your mid-thirties. Plus, she stopped responding to texts. Rob had always figured she was done with him, but tonight proved to him she just changed her number. In a way, she was the worst possible person to enter into his life at this moment.

But why shouldn’t he message her?

Jane was out with Jared. She was out there moving on. Why couldn’t he?

Just then, his phone buzzed. Austin.

All it said were three little words:

Maybe not her.

Maybe that was a good happy medium. But it wasn’t helping in the here and now.

Because Rob would give up just about anything to get Jared and Jane off his mind.

--

About twenty minutes later, Rob rushed back downstairs to the living room. Sam and Austin were sitting quietly, as expected. Both were on their phones. Quiet.

“So, we’ve got about fifteen minutes,” Rob started.

That certainly got their attention.

“Are you heading out?” Austin asked first. Rob could see the quiet terror in his eyes.

“Yeah. Ya’ll too. Get ready.”

“Dude,” Sam started, “I am not going out--”

“Look, it’s been years since we’ve all been together. And I hung out with Jane today, and I’ve been neglecting you guys. So I got us an Uber, I got us a spot to go, so let’s go. It’s Friday, for fuck’s sake.”

“You didn’t ‘hang out with Jane,’ you took her to a AA meeting,” came Austin’s short reply. He was going to be a harder sell, but Sam was already on Rob’s side.

“Same difference,” Rob said. “Don’t turn me down, I know a good spot in Newport Beach, I reserved a nice booth, and it’s on me.”

“Fifteen, right?” Sam replied. He was already halfway up the stairs.

“Twelve!”

“Rob, do you really think this is a good idea?” Austin asked. “Look, I know it’s probably not a good night for you to be alone--”

“So I won’t be alone, what’s the problem?”

Austin took a deep breath. “You’re using us for a distraction.”

“And you’re using me for my MAE residuals, it’s a fair trade. You wouldn’t feel bad if you saw what they send me in a month--”

“It’s not about the money, Rob.”

A moment of silence sat between them. Upstairs, they both could hear Sam aggressively putting on shoes.

“...but,” Austin continued, “If you’re getting us bottle service...”

Rob helped Austin out of his chair and practically pushed him upstairs to his room. “You’re gonna like this place, it’s classy.” He continued to pitch even after Austin’s door closed. “Just a few hours and a few drinks, that’s all I want! It’ll be fun!”

--

THREE HOURS LATER

Sometime around 11:00PM, things had started to get a little sloppy.

Rob did own up to his word and get bottle service for the three of them--but it didn’t stay the three of them for long.

People seemed to ebb and flow from the large, round corner booth hidden away in the back of the bar. Word got around quickly that hometown heroes In Bloom were in town (and getting shots for people who stopped by to chat), so the otherwise-quiet bar had grown a bit louder and eventually a bouncer was placed at the front to keep things reasonable.

Rob had expected as much--and in fact, he had picked this place for this exact reason. The owner--a nice, wiry guy named Arthur--was good friends with Mae and Rob and often helped out whenever Mae wanted a public drink that wouldn’t turn into a circus. Rob called in a favor, and the result was a nice, public space that just so happened to form a line eight blocks down due to their presence.

“--no! Seriously let me--let me--I’ll tell you this--seriously--Rob, back up me up this!” Sam fumbled through his words over Billie Eilish playing in the background.

Sam had been taking full advantage of the bottle service and was mid-conversation with a few women that had joined the booth on his side. Rob couldn’t tell if they were enjoying this or humoring him, but it was probably the latter.

“It was Vienna. We were driving every fuckin’ day. J and Rob are making off like rabbits, so I head into this bar--no I’m serious! So I go into this bar...”

Sam droned on, but Rob quickly tuned him out. He was sat opposite Sam and the women, on the outer edge of the booth, looking over to Austin beside him.

Austin could only laugh.

“What are the odds this story happened?” Rob asked.

“None whatsoever,” Austin replied. “Sam left his cum rags on the floor by my bunk that whole fucking tour. I got laid more than him.”

“No shit! Who?”

Austin shrugged. “Lyla, once.”

“No fucking way.”

“It wasn’t a big deal!” Austin threw his hands up. “It was a quick thing, only happened once. All parties involved didn’t need a repeat.”

Rob couldn’t stop staring and laughing.

“Jesus, you think you three are the only ones with libidos?” Austin laughed.

Lyla or not, it was good to see Austin lightening up for once. All too often, he had been the liaison--the moderator. It was easy to see this might not last forever if Austin got pushed too far.

“I’m gonna take a leak, yeah?” Rob said, and slipped out of the booth. He felt a few people slap his back as he went, but half-walked-half-stumbled to the bathroom without another word.

He opened the bathroom door to find a single toilet, sink, and background music blasting over the intercom at a fever pitch.

’Alright,’ he thought to himself. ’Finish the bottle, then take everyone home. Real easy.’

He was feeling good, at this point. Drunk--but coherent. It had been three hours of fun, stories, and selfies with fans. Time to wrap it up and go home.

He relieved himself, washed his hands, and turned the handle–

The door swung upon violently as the woman leaned on the opposite side tumbled into the bathroom and nearly fell onto Rob.

Rob fumbled back, half-catching her. She stood to her feet and swung a leg back to the door, kicking it shut.

“Jesus, real smooth of me, huh?” She laughed.

Rob took a step back to see who had barged in. She looked mid-to-late 20s. Dark hair, a face he couldn’t place, black A-line dress and strappy heels. But eyes he recognized from across the room.

“You good?” Rob replied.

“Yes, thanks!” She almost laughed out. “You really caught me, huh?”

Even this far in, Rob knew what was happening. He moved to the bathroom door, and locked it shut.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

The woman turned and leaned up against the sink. She balanced on one heel and lifted the other slightly. “My friends call me Liz.”

Rob nodded. “You don’t have to be coy, Liz.”

“I wasn’t trying to be,” she replied without hesitating.

She pushed off the sink and closed their gap.

--

Five minutes later, Rob pulled himself from Liz and ran a hand through his hair.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“Nothing at all,” he replied honestly. He glanced down at his phone. 11:58PM. “I’ve got just to get heading back is all.”

“More songs to write?”

“Something like that,” Rob replied. He took a minute to straighten himself in the mirror, then helped Liz get her shoes back on.

In reality, as fun as this had been, bathroom sex wasn’t on the list of things Rob wanted to get up to. His heart just wasn’t in it.

Every step closer to something intimate felt like a step away from Jane. He hated the feeling. He just wasn’t ready.

Or sober enough.

“Can I give you my number?” Liz countered as Rob headed for the door. “I’m here most weekends. Just give me a head’s up, yeah?”

“Sure thing,” he replied as earnestly as he could muster. He took her number, and Rob opened and shut the door behind him soon thereafter.

He quickly rushed back to the booth, and signaled for Sam and Austin to wrap it up.

“I’m closing out the tab,” he told them. “Let’s get back in time to get some work done in the afternoon at least.”

--

By the time the Uber returned to their place, Rob’s mind wouldn’t stop racing.

I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Jane is having a good time. Why can’t I?

I was over this. I was over this for ten fucking years, why is it such a big deal?

Liz wanted to. Why didn’t I?

After paying the driver, Rob retreated upstairs to his room, and made his way to the kitchen sink cabinet.

He utilized his own bottle service and opened his phone. He found his pre-typed message to Adrianna, and without hesitating, he sent it.

At this point, minutes blurred together. He wasn’t sure how long it had been. All he was sure of was if he laid down, he might puke.

And then, a knock came at the front door.

He rushed to the front only to find Jared standing there with Austin and Rob.

“The fuck happened?” he blurted out, but everyone seemed content with ignoring him.

Austin’s hands wrapped tightly around a phone. He was talking to someone.

”J’s in the hospital.”

The words stung deep into him. At this point, he was a mess of mania and self-flagellation.

Within another moment, both Austin and Jared were out the front door.

Jane didn’t want them to come.

“Fuck, man,” Sam muttered as the two of them stood alone in the foyer. “You think she’s okay?”

“Aust’s got her,” Rob replied. “I’m going to bed. You good?”

Sam gave a meek thumbs up. Good enough for Rob.

He ran upstairs, had a bit more, and laid down.

The sooner the night ended, the better. But before he could pass out, he saw a small light emanate from his phone in the dark room.

A reply from Adrianna.

He picked it up, read the message, and before responding, slipped the phone back into his pocket.

It could wait till tomorrow. It all could.

Jane was better off with Austin. Or Jared. Or anyone else, really.

So why wasn’t he better off without Jane?