Page 19 of Composed at Randy's
Mel is facing me, and the slut kicks my foot. “Allie will take good care of him, I promise. She’s really nice.”
“Forgive me if I have doubts about the person you fucked just so you could get a few more hours of sleep,” I grumble.
“Hey, we all got those few more hours of sleep, so you should be thanking me. Shay knows what I'm talking about.” Mel elbows Shay who slumps over into the slut’s lap.
“If he was awake, Shay would probably be kicking you right now for fucking his mom,” I grumble.
“Fine, Mr. Grouchy. But I'll have you know Shay fucked my mom first, so I was well within my rights.”
Bandmates, right? The chaos is real. Don't be confused, we love each other like siblings, but that means we also fight like siblings. It never lasts long though. Inevitably, we are all drawn back together by our mutual love of making music. My bandmates are my ride-or-dies, and I'd help bury a body for any of them.
Shay lets out an incredibly loud snore that shocks him awake. He jerks upright and says, “I’m awake. I was paying attention.” When he realizes it’s just us in the limo with him, he relaxes and asks, “What did I miss?”
Travis laughs. “What do you remember?”
Shay is notorious for sleepwalking his way through the first hour or so after being awake, so it's a valid question.
“I remember Mel sleeping with my mom, and me going on an eBay shopping spree to drive those mental images out of my mind.”
“Did you get me anything?” Mel asks shamelessly.
“You just wait and see what I got you,” Shay says and there's a hint of threat in his voice.
If I wasn't so grouchy about being forced awake and dragged away from Wren, I would be grilling Shay about his finds. His eBay sprees are always epic. One time he spent ten thousand dollars on vintage Transformers from the 80s. All of them were in mint condition and still in the package. We spent a week gleefully unboxing them all and playing with them before donating them to a local children's hospital.
Some collectors would call this sacrilege, but Shay thinks that leaving a toy in a box for eternity instead of playing with it like it was intended is a crime against humanity.
I think playing with Transformers is cool, and I'm gonna fucking play with them every chance I get.
I wonder if Wren likes to play with toys, or if he thinks he’s too old for them now. From the conversation we had about how cool old toys were earlier, I have a feeling he might be like me in that aspect. Only one way to find out. I kept a few Transformers for myself, so when I get home, maybe he'll want to play with them with me.
They're way cooler than the Transformers you can buy now because the laws governing children's toys were a lot less strict in the 80s. That means that there are tons of little parts on the old ones that can break off and you can choke on if you're not careful. I learned my lesson on that one. This probably means that maybe we shouldn't have donated them to a children's hospital, but sick kids deserve to have fun too, okay?
When we get to the studio, we’re rushed straight to makeup and wardrobe. Trina grabs me, shoves me into a chair, and starts fighting my hair into submission. It's a wild tangle because I had such a weird night and took a nap on a tiny couch, but Trina is amazing, and she manages to make my hair look cool like she always does.
She does swear a whole lot though.
My guys cover for me during the interview because I’m a million miles away. Instead of being the lovable goth puppy our fans adore, I keep staring off into space. I can't stop worrying about Wren waking up alone.
I answer when I'm asked questions, but I'm not paying attention to what I say, so I have no idea what's going on. I'm probably going to hear all about this later from Harvey, but I can’t seem to get myself to snap out of my daze.
I stay in my spaced-out state until I realize everyone in the room is staring at me. The host, my bandmates, and all the people in the audience.
“Are you serious, Bael? You have a special someone?” The host, a thirty-something DJ who was wildly popular about a decade ago, is standing over his desk like he's about to climb on top of it from excitement.
What the hell did I just say?
“Um…” I have no clue how to respond, so I just give up and leave myumhanging there like a gravity-defying brick.
“After three years of touring and being in the limelight, not once have you ever admitted to dating someone or being interested in anyone. This person must be really special,” DJ Whatshisface says like he's just discovered the cure to cancer. I'm still not convinced he's not about to climb over the table.
Some people get waaaay too excited about rock stars sometimes.
I throw Mel a panicked look, and the slut jumps into action.
“What Bael means is that he's met a really good friend recently. They hit it off right away and he's hanging out in new friendship bliss.”
DJ Whatshisface wilts visibly and sits back down in his chair. “Bael, you nearly gave all of us a heart attack. The number of fans out there who are in love with you would revolt if they found out you were dating someone.”
