SILAS HELPED Krish clean off the top of his head with a wet rag and then left him to take a shower alone when it seemed he wasn’t totally comfortable with Silas being there for the whole show. Pity. But they had time. Silas had all kinds of plans where Krish was concerned.
He found Brains, Paul, Bowie, Los, Jordan, Jake, and Jessica in the living room in what looked like a serious conversation.
“Paul, he can play the songs. Like, well. Like, better than me. He’s super clean.”
“Billy, that’s not the issue, I told you.”
“Dad, I’ll be okay.”
Silas plopped down next to Jessica, who looked about as comfortable as someone sitting in on a lover’s dispute between a couple they’d just met. Because whatever this weirdness was between Brains and Paul, it was starting to feel a little like that.
“What’s going on?”
Brains turned his upper body toward him, wincing a little. “The kid is phenomenal. He’s taught himself all of our songs—”
“But he’s never played in front of anyone except for school—”
“But, Dad—”
“Whoa. Okay, hold on. Bowie? You can play our songs?”
“Yeah,” he said, ducking his head and looking up at his dad from under long lashes. “But I don’t know how I’ll do in a crowd.” He swallowed hard and looked at Silas for the first time in the eye. “I have anxiety. Sometimes I can’t function.”
Silas sat back and slung his arm around the back of the couch behind Jessica. “That makes you no different than anyone in this band, frankly. I’ve got anger management issues, Los can’t sleep by himself, Brains has OCD…. Jordan? Other than being a sloppy drunk and a pain in the ass to your brother, you’re probably the most normal of us, but I haven’t known you as long as these guys.”
“I wet the bed.”
All eyes shot toward Jordan, including his brother.
“What? I’m trying to fit in. Geez.”
Nervous laughter broke out, and it seemed to ease the tension a bit.
“Bowie, this means being on a bus for nearly two months. And what about your job? And classes?” Paul seemed more concerned about Bowie’s anxiety than the other issues. Perhaps it was a bigger deal than they thought?
“I’ll call my supervisor today and see if they can give me leave. I haven’t missed a day in two years. My boss is cool. If not, I can find something else when I get back. And class is over. I don’t start back until September.”
“And the tour will be over by then,” Brains said. “And as soon as I’m better, I’ll join up with them and watch out for him. Until then, Mom will watch out for him—”
“I swear to God, Brains. I don’t care if you’re broken, if you call me Mom one more time—”
“We’ll all be there for him,” Silas said. “But maybe we should play together first? See if he feels comfortable?”
And that’s how they all ended up squeezed in Bowie’s room when Krish came out of the bathroom. His eyes went wide and he quickly moved out of the way as Jordan, Silas, Los, and Bowie took orders from Brains, who sat in the easy chair in the corner with his leg resting on a chair from the kitchen.
Bowie had two guitars, a Gibson Les Paul and an old Ibanez. Paul reluctantly brought an Epiphone bass from his room. Seems like this family really bonded over music, but Paul didn’t seem very comfortable with the scenario.
“I’m sorry, I only have the two amps,” Bowie said, his cheeks mottled red.
“It’s okay,” Silas said. “One of those guys can plug in, and I can use the other one. Let’s run through the set list. Bowie, if at any time, you have a question, stop us. And don’t worry if it’s rough. We’ve got, um, a day or two to get organized, right? No problem.”
They all grumbled anxiously, and Bowie took his seat behind the drums as the guys tuned their instruments. Paul stood next to Jessica in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. Jake and Krish sat on the bed and whispered to each other.
“You ready?” Silas asked Bowie gently. The kid nodded and got his sticks comfortable in his grip.
“For ‘Faceless,’ you’re going to start us off. You ready? Just the kick drum. One… two… three… four—”
Bowie laid down a flawless rhythm, Jordan came in with his note, Silas started the bass line, and Los kicked in with the opening riff. And it fucking came together.
One by one they ran through the songs in the set, with the exception of the two new tunes. Bowie had to ask questions of Brains a few times as he’d only recently started to learn them. The kid was basically fucking solid. When they finished, they all grinned nervously at each other. Except Paul. He left the room. Brains’s gaze followed him out the door.
“Krish? Can you hand me those crutches?”
Krish jumped up to help him get situated, and Brains followed Paul, his movements slow and stiff as though he were in more pain than he let on. Silas watched Brains as they started up one of the new songs. They needed a break, for real, and this kid might be what they needed.
Bowie concentrated so hard, Silas was worried he might burst a blood vessel, but he barely broke a sweat. He was in good shape. He wasn’t much older than Silas and Los when they joined up with Brains and started this crazy ride. It was fun watching his enthusiasm. Silas was really impressed with how much the kid had taught himself. He was a natural. He didn’t play with as much force as Brains, and perhaps he was a little bit more tentative, but that would go away after some rehearsals.
They finished a couple more songs and decided an hour of playing in the tiny bedroom was enough. It was time for a break. Bowie stood from the drum set and flexed his hands.
“How you feeling?” Silas asked him.
Bowie smiled shyly. “Great. It’s definitely different than playing in the jazz band.”
The guys all laughed.
“You never jammed with anyone before?”
Bowie shook his head. “I mean, not anyone outside of school, and there we play what we’re told and how we’re told most of the time, unless we’re working on improvisation. I’m in the music program at the community college here, and I play with the jazz band. This is different.”
“Absolutely. Hail to the band geeks,” Jordan said and high-fived Bowie. “I was in band in school myself.”
“You sound fucking great, kid,” Los said, fist-bumping him.
“Thanks,” Bowie said. “Brains is like my biggest influence. I’m so sorry he’s hurt, man.”
“Yeah,” Silas said. “Us too. But shit happens. We once had to postpone a series of dates because someone who shall remain nameless broke his finger being pushed into the bushes in a shopping cart Jackass-style.”
Los coughed into his hand. “It’s warm in here. Anyone else need some fresh air? Dude, you rock. Let’s take a break, shall we?”
Bowie’s eyes bugged out, and he pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. But Jordan didn’t hold back his laugh.
“And I thought you broke it because an amp fell over while you were practicing. Wasn’t that what you told me?” Jordan asked, giving Los a shove out the door.
“I did break my finger when an amp fell, fucker. Nearly broke my whole hand.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t have to miss shows for that one,” Silas called to their retreating backs.
“Well, I’m going to say goodbye,” Jake said. He hugged Krish and rubbed his head carefully to avoid hitting his staples. “Your mom is going to freak. You know that.”
“Yeah, I know. Wish me luck.”
“Luck. And kick ass tomorrow.”
Jake hugged Silas and Bowie, who was hesitant, but there was no avoiding a Jake hug. He gave a shy smile, and then he left the room to follow the other guys.
“Thanks for letting me come along for the ride,” Jake said. “It’s been quite an experience.”
“Thank you for bringing me Krish,” Silas said with a wink.
Jake’s eyebrows rose nearly into his hairline. “I mean, I brought him. Didn’t know I was necessarily bringing him for you, Mr. Lead Singer of My Brother’s Band That I Have to Be Nice to or I’d Say—”
“Yes, thank you, Jake,” Krish interjected. “I’ll call you tomorrow after the interview.”
Jake waved at Krish and then did the whole fingers pointing to his eyes and then to Silas thing that made Silas crack up. Yeah, go ahead and watch me. Krish is mine, Jake Barrett.
And then they were alone again. But Krish’s smile looked forced.
“Looks like you guys have a plan, then. I should probably go. I need to get to a mall and buy something to wear tomorrow.” Then his determination seemed to peter out, and he slumped against the wall.
Oh, this would not do. Silas couldn’t have him leaving there sad. He could tell Krish was having a tough time about something. He hadn’t missed his comments earlier when Silas was clipping his hair. He’d have to show Krish that they could make it work. It could happen. He’d loved him from afar before….
Well, shit. That’s exactly what was happening here. Silas could eat his cake and have it too. The Guru came to him, just as he’d hoped, covered in the beautiful frosting that was Krish, and Silas wanted it all—the man and the dessert. Okay, that sounded wrong, but in Silas’s mind, Krish was everything sweet and wonderful he’d hoped for over the years when he dreamed about meeting the Guru. The fact that they had such great chemistry, and that Krish was as incredible in person as he was in his words, confirmed for Silas that they were meant to find each other.
Yeah, now he believed in that destiny and fate shit. They’d both paid him a visit, and he intended to make it clear to Krish that this was happening. This, whatever they were doing, was real and was going to continue despite the shitstorm that was going to erupt when his brothers found out about Krish. Because Silas wasn’t going to give him up. Period.
But he’s joining the Dark Side.
The magazine gig. Silas had to admit that could be a problem. The guys in the band were going to flip out. Brains might understand. He was the mature one, but Los? After all the sordid shit that had been printed?
At least Alt-Scene had been good to them. Their coverage of Gavin’s death was as close to factual as they were going to get with no comment from the band. The magazine loved Silas, he’d been on the cover a bunch, and at one point, he’d even had a guest column for a couple of years… until that Warped Tour. Could he trust that this could work? For now, he would, because he’d be kidding himself if he thought he could walk away.
“I could use some new clothes. And some new makeup. I told Jessica which kind I like, but I guess they were out of it at Sephora before we left. Guess I need to come with you to the mall.”
Krish blinked. “Silas. What are you—”
“Yeah, and I haven’t been to San Francisco in a long time. I’m due for a new photo shoot with Alt-Scene. Maybe Jessica can set that up while I’m there. With you. For your interview.”
More blinking. “Silas?”
Silas rolled his eyes and crawled onto the bed. “Babe. This is me inviting myself to go with you to San Francisco. I want to take you shopping and hold your hand while you freak out about your interview.” He reached up and cupped Krish’s jaw. “I want to spend the night with you,” he whispered as he leaned in for a tender kiss. Then he pulled back a smidge. “Unless I’m overstepping my bounds.” He darted his tongue out and licked, making sure to connect his piercing with Krish’s lips. He wasn’t above manipulation, and he knew how much his piercings got Krish’s engine revving. “What do you say?”
Krish sighed. “Thank you.”
Silas leaned back, beaming. “Then it’s settled. Let’s see if Paul can get us—”
“Wait, Silas. Are you sure you can really go? What about the band?”
He sat back on his heels. “I know. If I didn’t think Brains was in the best hands, I wouldn’t dream of leaving. But honestly, I’ve been watching those two. If I told him I was staying behind while you left, he’d tell me to get the fuck out. He knows how important you are to me. They all do.”
Krish frowned. “Silas, are we postponing the inevitable? What are they going to say when they find out about me?” He looked down at the bed and sighed.
“We’ll deal with it. Why? What are you saying?”
Krish pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, still not looking at Silas. “The guys aren’t going to be so supportive when they find out who I am, what I’m planning to do. What are you going to say to them?”
“We’ll tell them together. You’ve already told me you won’t write about the band. We’ll tell them, and they’ll have to deal with it. Besides, are you willing to give this up, this whatever it is between us? Come on, Krish. You know it doesn’t have to be like that. You know you want to see this through, just like I do. People aren’t given a chance like this very often. Don’t make me get all cheesy and shit here.”
Krish laughed. “Sometimes cheesy is okay.” A small grin from Krish was all it took for Silas to know that he was winning the argument, their first since picking up where they left off.
“Cheese belongs on pizza, in Mexican food, and in a sandwich. It does not belong in this bed, Krishnan Guru—how do you say the rest?”
“Guruvayoor. And I’m sorry, Silas. I’m not trying to be all dramatic or anything. I feel like we’re only just getting to know each other, and there’s so much going on. I don’t want to cause problems—”
“I know. I know. We’ll tell the guys. It might suck… a lot. But you’re important to me, and I want you in my life.”
“But what about after Warped? I know a lot can happen between now and then, but are you really going to want—”
Silas held up a hand. He’d already anticipated that argument. “Look, I can’t change this about me. I tour. We have to tour, but it’s not forever. In fact we have a very small window of opportunity to make it and we’re taking advantage of the favorable winds. Knowing you’re on the other side of the journey makes it all the better.” He leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. “Please give us a chance,” Silas whispered. “I promise. If I haven’t convinced you after a night in San Francisco—”
“You’ve convinced me, Silas. I want this too. But I’m unsure. My whole life was thrown into chaos the minute I left my house… when was it? I don’t even remember. Friday. In two days, I met the guy I’ve been dreaming of for years, I was offered a potential job with my dream magazine, and I’m kind of freaking out, to be honest. It’s a lot to take at once. But I don’t want you to think for a second that being with you, making a go of this, isn’t at the top of my priority list.”
That was all the encouragement Silas needed. “Great. Then let’s start living the dream.”