Page 44 of More Than Scars
“Perfect.” He hopped up and kissed me. “I’ll grab my notebook so you can have your whiteboard back.” And he was off. That went better than expected, though I believed the nightmares were the real reason Bowie hadn’t opted for more sleep.
He whizzed back by me, notebook in hand and still in the robe, which I secretly loved, and straight outside. I fixed Bowie and me a cup of coffee and took him his, then got to work making breakfast. Tony appeared as soon as the scent of bacon wafted through the house.
“Smells great.”
“Yes, it does. You hungry?”
“I could eat.” Tony got busy making his morning cup. “You know, you can’t let him get away with that shit. You have to call him out on it.”
Crap, had he heard our entire conversation?
“Such as?”
“Like you just did. Otherwise, he’ll revert back into his shell and never come out. You’ve got him further out than any of us have.”
Fuck, it just dawned on me. “You’re in love with him.”
Tony smirked over his cup. “I’ll always love Bowie. He’s my best friend, but he wasn’t meant for me, and I’ve accepted that.” He paused and took a sip. “He was meant for you. Don’t let him get out of going to therapy. Every time I’ve mentioned it, I get yelled at. With you, he actually listened.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Push, but don’t push. That’ll start with texting him Easton’s number, then the proverbial ball will be in his court. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me, just take good care of him. He’s worth holding on to, and the happiest I’ve seen him since the accident is when he’s onstage or with you.” And on that note, he left to join his friend out on the patio. Meanwhile, my thoughts ran wild, retracing our interactions for anything I’d missed, such as what triggered this morning’s nightmare. Cognizant, I’d be moving forward, but where to draw the line between that and pushing too far would be the key.
“Dude, I totally wanna perform this song.” Korn’s Here to Stay played through Tony’s phone speaker. “Think we can learn it in time for Rocktoberfest?” he asked Bowie.
“We can, but we have a killer set already lined up. But man, it’s not a concert without Korn dropping in.”
“Breakfast is served.” I handed them each a plate. “I’ll be right back.” There was no going back to sleep for them. Already amped up and working on songs, the adrenaline had taken over.
Just as I refilled my coffee and grabbed a plate, my phone vibrated.
Easton: Good morning, Pressley. I hope I didn’t wake you.
Me: Not at all. Everything good?
Easton: Yes, thanks for asking. I had a contact in Oregon reach out. They had a couple openings for shows and wanted to know if I had a band to fill the spots with. Both great venues, so I snagged the spots for Imminent. Perfect stops along the way to Rocktoberfest.
Me: Which places?
Easton: The Star Theater in Portland, then WOW Hall in Eugene. Nothing huge and multiband, but great practice stops along the way. I’ll send the schedule over via email to the group.
Me: Excellent. I’ll let the guys know. Hey, I wanted to give you a heads up that I’ll be giving Bowie your number. I don’t want to disclose too much and lose his trust, but I’ll use the acronym PTSD.
Easton: Understood. I look forward to hearing from him, and thank you for watching out for your band. Given our last conversation about him, I know he’s more than that to you, and in case I haven’t said it, you’re doing a great job, and we’re thrilled to have you on board.
Me: Thanks, that means a lot.
Easton: No need to thank you. Keep up the good work and enjoy your Sunday.
Me: You too.
Before I headed outside, I texted Easton’s number to Bowie. He and Tony were engaged in conversation when I joined them, and I didn’t want to interrupt, so I ate while they finished up.
“Your phone already blowing up?” Bowie asked.
“Something like that. Easton is sending an email to the group, but he booked Imminent a couple of shows in Oregon on the way to Black Rock City.” Their eyes widened as they stared at each other. “Is that a problem?”
“No, it’s all good,” Bowie said, but his tone said otherwise.