Composed at Randy’s (Diner Days)

6. Bael

Chapter 6

Bael

“ D ude, you gotta get up. Don’t make me get Harvey in here.”

My eyes fly open at the name Harvey . One of my hands lashes out and covers Travis’s mouth while the other grabs him by the shoulder to pull him close.

“Don’t you dare send Harvey in here. He might scare Wren,” I hiss.

I scramble off the couch and drag Travis with me out of my room. I take a quick peek at Wren to make sure he wasn’t disturbed by Travis’s invasion and heave a sigh of relief when I see nothing but a tuft of blond hair poking up from the blanket cocoon on my bed.

When I turn back to Travis, he looks breathless and ruffled, and I realize I’d just scooped him up and carried him away.

Again.

I have a bad habit of doing that. I tend to act first and think later, and when I see that something needs to happen, I just make it happen and deal with the fallout afterward.

But carrying people without their permission is on the don’t fucking do it list, and I signed the list just like everyone else in the band did.

“Sorry,” I tell Travis, trying my best to actually look sorry.

I’m not, though. I really didn’t want Travis to wake Wren up, and negotiating his departure would probably have done it. The next time I get a chance, I’ll sneak an ‘except in case of emergencies’ onto the list. It won’t be hard. It’s hanging in the kitchen, so unless Elvis our fake ghost rats me out, no one will ever know.

“What does Harvey want?” I ask, keeping my voice down. I motion Travis away from my door and head toward the common area. Travis is excitable, and I need to get him away from my room.

See? I’m doing a great job at being a caretaker, yes? I just know I’m going to get even better as time goes on. Maybe I should get a book to read on the subject. I’ll google it later.

I like to google things, in case you hadn’t noticed. Learning is important. And I’m pretty sure there’s an old saying that goes something like, ’Education is not the Preparation H of life, but it will teach you how to apply it.’

Yeah. I don’t understand that one at all. Do you? I’m sure it means something incredibly profound, though.

Travis bites his lips anxiously and says, “We’ve got an interview in less than two hours, Bael. Harvey is freaking out because we all forgot.” He starts pulling on my arm like he thinks that if I start hurrying now, it’ll spare us all from Harvey’s wrath. It won’t. Once Harvey decides to be miffed about something, he stays that way until he thinks we’ve all learned our lesson.

Instead of letting Travis drag me, I keep going at my own pace. “Did Harvey put it in the group chat? We wouldn’t have forgotten if he’d done that.”

“God, don’t tell him that. Then he’ll start spamming us, and we’ll have to make a secret chat to get away from him.”

When we get to the common room, I see Harvey standing there glaring down at Shay and Mel, who are both sprawled out on the same couch, tangled together in an exhausted mess.

Harvey looks exactly like you’d imagine the manager would for a band that just went double platinum for the third time in a row. Tall, trim, always wears an expensive suit that never seems to wrinkle no matter how long he’s been in it, wears expensive designer glasses, and looks like he’s covered up at least ten felonies during his career.

Harvey shoots me a withering glare as soon as I enter the room, and Travis hides behind me.

“Bael, just because you got a new pet doesn’t mean you can forget your responsibilities. And dragging the rest of the band down with you?—”

I storm up to Harvey and get right in his face, looming over him, barely restraining the urge to grab him by his collar and yank him up on his toes. “He’s not a pet,” I growl. “He’s a person.”

Harvey’s eyes go wide and his cool-as-ice demeanor shatters. “I’m sorry, Bael. That was… inappropriate of me. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.”

The alarm fades from his face like it was never there, and he goes right back to being irritated. Honestly, the fact that he slowed his roll at all tells me that I probably scared the shit out of him.

He deserved it, by the way, and I have no regrets.

Harvey continues like nothing happened. “The four of you were supposed to be in make-up chairs already. What happened to the assistant I sent to help you with Wren? I told her to make sure you all got to the studio on time.”

Travis, Shay, and I all try our best not to look at Mel because bros don’t rat other sibs out, but the slut is shameless and says, “She’s tired, so I gave her the day off.”

Ok, I didn’t know for sure that Mel banged our new assistant, but come on. Harvey vets the hell out of everyone he lets near us, and if one of his assistants fucks up, it’s probably because of Mel’s dick.

Harvey closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. He also holds out a hand with one finger pointing up in the universal sign for just give me a second to get my shit together.

He takes a deep breath, opens his eyes, and says calmly, “Just get in the fucking car.” His smile could have come out of a Jaws movie, so we all race for the door. Shay is half draped over Mel’s back because he’s not a morning person.

Halfway to the door, I skid to a halt. Travis slams into my back, but he does this cool acrobatic thing where he manages to roll around me and keep going. It’s probably due to the rigorous dance training we all get.

So Travis manages to escape while I’m busy being awesome. “I can’t leave Wren alone,” I inform Harvey. “He might get scared.”

Harvey puts a hand on my back and makes a shooing motion to me with his other hand. And because he knows that I won’t be moved until I want to move, he doesn’t bother trying to force me. “I’ll have the door guards look out for him. Get in the car.”

“But—“

“And I’ll kick Allie out of Mel’s bed since she’s supposed to be helping keep an eye on your friend.”

“Be nice about it. I think Shay’s mom is in there too,” I interrupt helpfully.

Harvey doesn’t even blink at that one. He’s been dealing with us for a while now, so he’s used to our shit. “I’ll make sure not to wake her if she is. I’ll get your new assistant up and let her know that Wren is to be in perfect condition, both physically and emotionally, upon your return or else she’s out of a job.”

I allow the pressure of Harvey’s hand on my back to propel me toward the door. “You’re still going to let her work with us after banging Mel? That’s not like you.”

Harvey snorts. “Of course not, but I can find her a job going through fan mail or something.”

“As long as Wren is okay, right?” I don’t want someone working for us if they aren’t nice to Wren. That would make me a shitty caretaker.

“Sure. Whatever you want, just get in the car.”

When we reach the door, Harvey tells Brent to escort me down and orders him to make sure everyone is in the limo and on our way before coming back up here. I glance in the direction of my room for a moment before finally letting myself be herded away.

I hope Wren will be okay. What if he wakes up without me there? What if he leaves?

Brent has already hustled me into the limo and we’re on the road by the time I have this thought, so unless I fling open the door and bail out, it’s too late to do anything about it.

I can't even bribe the driver because he's terrified of Harvey. I don't blame him really. Our manager can put the fear of god into a lifelong atheist.

“Hey man, you're really worried about Wren, aren't you?” Travis says, poking me in the shoulder. “You're never this quiet.”

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 my um hanging 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.”

I’ve never understood this. Mel, Travis, and Shay are all banging their way across the world, but it's my sex life everyone is curious about.

I have one, obviously, but they’re single encounters and relatively few and far between. Harvey makes my partners sign NDAs for their sake as well as mine. My fans go bonkers anytime they think there's a chance I'm seeing someone.

I never am though. I'm just so busy, and I’m not interested in a conga line of meaningless hookups like the rest of the band is. It's just so difficult to date when everyone knows who you are, you know? Yes, it sounds cliche, but it's also true. I want love, and I'm not willing to settle for someone who only wants me because I'm famous.

Maybe that's why I'm so taken with Wren. I seriously doubt he has any idea who I am. The way he reacted to me when we met made me feel like he was meeting a random stranger. I imagine living on the streets like he does means he doesn't have a lot of time to catch up on pop culture.

We get through the rest of the interview relatively unscathed, but when we get back to the green room Harvey is giving me the stink-eye with his arms crossed and his foot tap, tap, tapping away.

“What?” I ask, avoiding eye contact.

“You know what,” Harvey says in a long-suffering voice. I notice he's using the very best one in his arsenal.

“I have no idea what you mean,”

“You can't keep him, Bael. As you said before, he's not a pet. We can take care of him until he's well, and we can even make sure he has a good start on life, but he can't follow us on the tour. If your fans even suspect that the two of you are dating, they’ll eat him alive. It would be cruel to make someone like him face that.”

I don't believe that bullshit for a second. Sure, my fans are overly invested in my personal life, but for the most part, they're all kind people. Call me na?ve, but I believe that if I finally find someone I love, they’ll support me and not murder them.

I'm not saying I love Wren. We just fucking met for god's sake. All I know is that I can't stop thinking about him.

I shrug at Harvey in response, and he sighs at me. He uses the best one of those in his arsenal too, but I refuse to relent. This is my life after all. Not his.

I don't know where this is going with Wren, but I'm going to ride it until the wheels fall off.