Composed at Randy’s (Diner Days)

13. Wren

Chapter 13

Wren

“ S o there I was, stark naked with about three hundred fans just around the corner because they heard a rumor that I take smoke breaks in stairwells right before concerts. Anyway, I?—”

I like Mel. I really do, and their stories are fascinating, but not half as fascinating as the scenarios my brain is cooking up for the next time Bael and I go to poundtown.

I'm also maybe, kinda, sorta, a little concerned about how everyone seems convinced I'm going on the tour bus with them. I've told them all multiple times each that I can't go and that I have something I have to do. I'm pretty sure they all still think I'm homeless and that I'm just trying to not be a burden—which is really funny if you actually know me. I literally pay people to let me be a burden to them.

I really can't go with the band right now though. I don't remember which day it is, but I know for a fact that sometime soon there’s a huge gallery exhibit I have to go to the opening for because it’s for my art.

Not only would I be a shitty person for not showing up, but just imagining the nightmare disappointment extravaganza I'd be subjected to for vanishing and skipping the opening makes me want to yak.

We’re at Randy’s again, and the food I'm eating is fantastic, so I really want to keep it inside me. Since I didn’t get sick from stuffing my face here yesterday, I plan on doing it again today.

I eyeball Brent and James standing over in the corner, and I give them a look . With how protective Bael seems to be, I don't put it past him to set his goons on me if I just try and make a break for it. Not that I think they'd hurt me or anything. But I do think they'd stand in front of me long enough for Bael to puppy eye me into getting on the bus.

It would take almost no effort on his side to convince me to stay with him. With the way he's been feeling up my leg this entire meal, I'm finding it hard to put my Grand Plan into action.

I don't want to leave Bael or the band. Not for good, anyway. Especially since the whole we’re boyfriends conversation Bael and I just had. But I'm sick of trying to convince everyone that I'm not what they think I am.

They’re all so kind and understanding and change the subject as quickly as possible anytime I try and bring it up. I don't think they're being assholes about it, either. No, I think they all genuinely believe that they’re helping me and just trying to spare my dignity or something.

This really sucks, because if I really was homeless, I couldn't imagine a better group to have fallen in with.

But I have responsibilities, and I'm terrible at advocating for myself, so I'm gonna have to go with my Grand Plan.

And look at that, the main part of the plan just went into the back of the restaurant.

Damn it. Now I have to actually do it.

“I have to go to the bathroom, sweetie,” I whisper into Bael’s ear. “I'll be right back.”

He gives me a sad little frown and moves his hand from my leg reluctantly. “I can go with you if you want.”

I promise myself that I will contact him as soon as I’m able, and that this is not goodbye forever, just goodbye for an hour or two. Once everything is cleared up, Bael and I can sail off into the sunset together, leaving a trail of video games and condoms in our wake.

This gives me the courage to laugh and say, “I think I'll be okay on my own for five minutes.”

He stands up and lets me scoot out of the booth, and I give him a kiss on the cheek. I want to give him a long, lingering goodbye kiss, but it's impossible to give somebody one of those without them getting suspicious. So instead, I grab his butt to tide me over until I see him again.

I skip off happily to the bathroom area and freeze when I realize it's just doors to single-person gender-neutral bathrooms. I mean, hooray for accessibility, but am I just going to have to stand out here like a creep until my target shows up?

That is exactly what I have to do, and I don't even have a phone to hide behind to ease the awkwardness. Perfect.

At least I'm not standing where the band can see me. I sure hope Archie isn't one of those people who spends five hours in the bathroom.

It feels like nine years, but it's probably only about a minute and a half before Archie is done. As soon as he leaves the bathroom, I grab him by a red plaid flannel sleeve, put my finger over my lips, and drag him through the back exit.

Archie is exactly as cool as I thought he would be, because he doesn't say a thing until the door closes behind us and we're alone in the alley. There’s a sticker of Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson right beside the door for some reason, but I don’t get a chance to ponder its existence because Archie jumps right to the point.

“So you did need help?”

I nod violently.

“Don't worry, kid, I got you. I'll get you out of here first, and then we'll call the cops.”

“No!” I shout, and then realize I'm being all covert and stuff, so I change to whisper-shouting. “Don't call the cops! They haven't done anything wrong. I'm just terrible at explaining myself, and they don't understand. I need you to help me figure out a way to contact my people so I can go home. They think I'm homeless and I'm really, really not.”

“Aw, kid…” Archie rubs the back of his neck and gives me a oh, you're one of those smooth brained people, aren't you? look, and I feel my face go hot. “What do you need me to do?”

As I sort it all out in my mind, I realize there were a lot of things I could have done differently at the beginning of this adventure if I'd been more clear-headed, but I wasn't, and I’ve reached the point with the band that this is really the best way to get what I need. Otherwise, I'm going to let Bael puppy eye me right onto that tour bus, and then gods know how long it'll be before I get back home.

I know that sounds crazy and pathetic, but he's so kind and so freaking sweet. Also, that dick of his is pure magic. Saying no to any of that is far beyond anything I'm capable of.

“I need you to find a way to contact my agent,” I say finally. Archie is super chill to be giving me space to work out what I want to do, and I appreciate that in a person. It’s a basic necessity in dealing with me. “But can we get out of here first?”

Archie gives me a wry smile, nods toward a fire-engine red motorcycle, and says, “Hop on.”

A very thrilling fifteen minutes later and we are at a posh little coffee shop.

I am a shaky, wobbly little thing, and I cling to Archie as I get off his bike. That was insanely fun, and I want my own bike now, but if Kai values his life, he will never allow me to buy one. Marty would just straight up fucking kill him.

And then probably me too for tricking Kai into letting me get one in the first place.

But I digress. Archie lets me hang on to him until I get my footing and then does me the favor of pretending like I wasn’t treating him, a perfect stranger, like my personal servant.

“We don't have to do this here if you don't want to,” I say. “I don't have the money to treat you to coffee right now, so we can do this at your place if it's easier.”

Archie sighs like one of my old art history teachers used to sigh when he realized I’d accidentally destroyed yet another of my textbooks by drawing all over the pages instead of taking notes.

So that's probably not a good sign.

“Please tell me you don't try to follow every stranger you meet home.”

“Oh no, I'm not that bad. It's only you and Bael so far.”

I get another sigh before Archie tells me, “Let’s just go inside. You sit down, and I'll get us something.”

The café is shiny and modern, and you’d think it wouldn’t suit Archie’s Canadian lumberjack vibe, but you’d be wrong. When he comes back with our food and sits down, he fits right in with the decor like he owns the place.

He’s a classy, French Canadian, silver daddy lumberjack. Dude must be fending off tits and ass everywhere he goes.

I spend at least five minutes convincing Archie that I'm not a sixteen-year-old runaway, and that I’m actually a grown-ass man who he could have gotten coffee for instead of the milk he bought me to go with my banana bread.

After I've explained the entire situation to him, he makes one phone call, yells at two people, and suddenly I'm on the phone with Shelly.

I am pretty sure people from two streets away can see the heart eyes I’m shooting at this giant lumberjack man. The heart eyes only last two seconds into my conversation with Shelly because she's suddenly screaming in my ear, and I nearly yeet Archie's phone across the café.

Archie intercepts my hand mid-yeet and takes his phone back. “Take it easy on him. He's had a rough couple of weeks, and the folks he trusted to keep him safe really let him down. He doesn’t need one of them yelling at him right now.”

Aaaand the heart eyes are back.

“Don't look at me like that, kid. I'm nobody's hero.” Archie hands me the phone again.

Shelly's voice is far less ear-piercing this time, so I'm able to understand her when she says, “Wren, honey, where have you been? Everyone in the agency has been freaking out. Marty hopped on a plane as soon as Kai realized you were missing.”

“Kai’s back?” There's a mixture of joy and trepidation in my voice as I ask.

On the one hand, Kai is going to fix everything for me perfectly because he always does, and that's exactly what I need right now. On the other hand, that’ll be a massive waste of his time because I'm pretty sure as soon as he's fixed all my problems, he's going to murder me and then perfectly hide my body.

“He got home early yesterday morning and went straight to your place to check on you. I'm pretty sure he lost a year off his life when he realized you were missing.” Shelly sounds pretty shaken up herself, so she’s probably not just talking about Kai for that last part.

My heart goes all warm and gooey because it's nice to have people who will miss you and worry about you. But… “Ummm, Shelly… do you think you could be the one to call Kai? I'm pretty sure if he yells at me right now, I will cry.”

I'm not just saying that to get out of being in trouble. I’m full-on emotionally fragile right now. I hate the fact that Bael and the band have surely realized I ditched them by now. Everyone's feelings are going to be hurt, and I absolutely cannot stand that thought.

Oh, for fucks sake. I should have left them a note.

Ahhhh! Why do I have to be so stupid???

Now Bael is going to be mad at me, he’s going to dump me, and he's never going to want to talk to me again. He might even throw fruit at me when I try to see him.

What have I done?

I should have gone for that goodbye-forever kiss after all.

They don't make a pill for stupid, but they really should, so people like me can have a boyfriend for more than a day.

“Are you okay, Wren? Did your agent make you cry?” Archie is holding out a tissue for me, and I touch my face. My cheeks are covered in tears.

“No… it wasn’t her.” I take the tissue and rub at my face. I’m going to need about nine more of these because these tears aren’t stopping.

“Wren, love, Kai is on his way to you now. He’ll be there in a few minutes. I promise you that we'll get this all sorted out and make sure nothing like this ever happens again.”

I sniff and nod at the phone and hang up, forgetting that she can't see me. I hand the phone back to Archie and tell him, “Thank you for helping. You don't need to stay anymore.”

“The hell I don’t.” Archie takes my hand in his large, work-roughened one and squeezes before stuffing more tissues into it. “I'm not letting you out of my sight until I know you're safe.”

That didn't help with the tears at all. “You don't even know me. Why are you being so nice?”

“You're a kid in need. My Abigail would have my head if I stood by and did nothing.”

I sniff and cry into tissue after tissue while Archie regales me with tales of his efforts to restore an ancient dirigible. It sounds freaking amazing, and I decide then and there that Archie is going to be my best friend forever (other than Marty, obviously) because once it's built, I need to ride that thing like I need air.

Halfway through the conversation, he switches to discussing mundane details of his life, and I realize I'm not entirely certain whether Abigail is his wife, his child, or his dog.

It’s comments like, “Abigail was trapped under the deck for an hour before I could coax her out,” and “She hates it when I wear tan, so I’m not allowed to buy anything that color.” And “Her art isn’t half bad, considering,” that muddy the waters for me.

When I ask him to clarify, he snorts and says, “You’re funny, kid.”

Then the door to the coffee shop slams open, and the bell on the door flies off and bounces off of an unoccupied table.

“Wren!” Kai shouts as he scans the room with a wild look in his eyes.

I wave to him from my table, hold up my banana bread, and point to it. Why? Because I'm an awkward person, that's why.

“Oh god, baby, I was so worried.” Kai races across the café as soon as he sees me and puts me in a stranglehold. I hug him back as strongly as my tiny body can manage.

“Kai, I missed you!” I cry into his suit. I’m probably going to need more tissues soon.

Kai pulls back and begins to check me over from head to toe, “We should get you to a doctor to check you and make sure you’re okay.”

I know how this looks, and I need to stress yet another time that Kai and I are not like that. I may have forgotten to mention that Kai can’t have children. He lost a wife due to this issue, and I'm pretty sure he thinks of me as either a little brother or the child he could never have. This is why he’s so protective of me and overly handsy.

And because of how well he takes care of me and how kind he is, I love him like family too—even if he’s pushy, gruff, and won’t let me watch free porn on the internet. He makes me buy it from reputable sources!

What a monster.

“Okay?” I laugh nervously. “Why would you think I’m not okay? Look, I still have all my arms and everything else!” I do a little twirl to show off my fancy, still-attached appendages.

“You look like you’ve lost at least five pounds, Wren. That’s not my definition of okay.” Kai starts running his hands over my scalp to check for lumps.

“I don’t have a concussion!” I shout as I slap his hands away.

Kai steps back with good grace, and I give him a playful shove while laughing. Kai babying the shit out of me is familiar territory, and it makes me feel like I’ve finally come home even though I’m miles from my condo.

“You seem like you're in good hands here,” Archie says with a soft smile. “I'll leave you two to it.” He gets up and offers his hand to me. I take it and give it an awkward shake.

“I want to hang out with you again,” I blurt.

Archie gives me a little salute and says, “You can find me at Randy’s most days.”

Kai takes his hand and shakes it too, only he does it with style and class. “Thank you. Shelly told me what you did for Wren. I promise you'll be well-rewarded for it.”

“Nah,” Archie says and turns to leave just like that. I watch him through the window as he hops on his motorcycle and drives away.

“Please don’t tell me you rode on that thing.”

“Okay, I won't tell you that.”

Kai shoots me a fake glare and ruffles my hair. “Let’s get you to a doctor and then back home.”

“I don't need a doctor. I already saw one.”

“Well, you're going to get to see another one. Lucky you.”

“Fiiiiine,” I concede grumpily. It won’t be the worst thing to ever happen to me, and I can tell he needs me to let him mother hen me extra hard for his own sanity. “But I need you to do something for me when you get a minute.”

“Anything, Wren. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

I curl into his side and let him lead me out of the café.