Luc shakes his head.“Let’s hit Paddy’s.I think we could all use it.”
“Fuck, yes,” Mikey agrees, hopping out of the chair.“I need beer if I’m gonna survive this band.”
“Is that an order?”I grumble, because honestly, the last thing I think I need is more forced proximity with these guys right now.I’m too in my head.
“Yeah, it is.”Luc shoots me a steely look.“You need this more than any of us.”
An hour later we’re shoved into our usual back corner booth at Paddy’s, the place exactly as it’s always been.Same scarred wood tables.Same dim lighting.Same ancient rock posters hanging crooked on the walls.The bartender, Danny, barely glances up before already reaching for our usual order.“You boys look tense.”
“Dean’s on his period,” Mikey snarks, snagging the basket of fries Danny drops onto the table.
Dean flips him off and reaches for a beer from the bucket that’s now in front of us.The tension from the studio fades easier here.Maybe because this place existed before any of the fame did.Before sold out tours and magazine covers and private clubs hidden in the West Loop.Back when we were just four idiots from outside Chicago playing bars for free drinks and hoping somebody important happened to walk in.
Luc raises his beer.“To not murdering each other before the album’s finished.”
We clink bottles together.
Mikey leans back against the booth with a grin.“Quinn says I’m emotionally unavailable.”
Dean nearly chokes on his drink.“You literally follow that woman around your apartment like a lost puppy.”
“That’s not true.”
Luc snorts into his beer.“You skipped rehearsal Tuesday because she had a bad day.”
“She looked sad.”
“You made her soup and watched rom-coms with her dude.”Dean chuckles.“You’re so pussy whipped.”
“She likes soup.”Mikey pouts, throwing back a shot of tequila.
Dean points across the table.“You’re domestic now.Accept it.”
Mikey looks personally offended by the accusation.“I’m still cool.”
“No,” all three of us answer at once.
He shakes his head slowly.“This band has become deeply unsupportive.”
Luc laughs, the sound easier than it had been earlier.“How’s living together actually going?”
Mikey steals another fry.“Good.”His grin softens slightly around the edges.“Really good, actually.”There’s something different about him when he says it.More grounded.Less restless.It suits him.
Dean nudges Luc with his shoulder.“Speaking of domesticated.Wedding plans still going strong or did Lily realize she could do better?”
Luc’s expression changes instantly at the mention of her.Softer.Quieter.“Stronger than ever.We’re going to do it next June in Vegas, so keep that month clear.”
Mikey groans dramatically.“He’s gonna cry during the vows.”
“I absolutely am not.”His brow furrowing, his fingers picking at the label on his beer.
“You absolutely are,” Dean argues.“You cried when Larkin called you dad for the first time.”
Luc points at him.“One tear.”
“You sobbed into a throw pillow.”
“That shit was a long time coming.”He defends, and we all nod, because yeah it was.
