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"Complicated is never good."
"Yeah. I… I love my dad. With my mom… I love her, but—"
"It's complicated?"
"Yeah. Um… this place is empty. And quiet. And clean. Are you this clean?"
"I use a service."
"Every day?"
He chuckles. "No, once a month."
"And it… it stays this clean?"
"It's not magic. I have to put things away. Wipe them down." He turns towards me. His eyes light up as his lips curl into a tiny smile. "I can spell it out, step by step if you need a refresher. Based on your apartment…"
"It's not that bad."
He shrugs it might be that bad.
"Asshole."
His smile widens. He laughs. Not that chuckle but an actual laugh.
Mal likes me.
He does.
It's hard to believe, but the signs are obvious.
"You went a long way from letting your brother teach you guitar to here. You must love being in the band. Or is it really all for him?"
Again, he gives me a long, slow once-over. His eyes linger on my legs, my crotch, my chest. Then they're on mine, and he's staring at me with an intense expression. "Fame is weird and touring can be a drag, but it's still better than any job I've ever had."
I nod. "But it's still not your passion?"
"I've never thought of it in those terms."
"Maybe some part of it fulfills you and the rest is crap you have to put up with. Like any other job."
He nods. "I love writing songs."
"Music or lyrics?"
"Both. They're different… I don't know. You do something this long, it's hard to remember why you started. You lose track of that lust for life. It becomes routine."
"I love shooting music videos. Well, I'm sure I'll have to shoot commercials too. But that's okay. I love being behind the camera, getting everything aligned to create a moving image. It's magic."
"Every day?"
"Even when it's exhausting."
He nods. "For me… the little things wear me down. I start to take it for granted." His eyes go to the floor. "I'm sure you've heard it all before."
I shake my head. "Most of the musicians that work with us treat me like the help."
"You are the help."
