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“Definitely,” she confirmed, her eyes lighting up. “Every day is a new adventure.”
As we continued eating, I asked Bash about the challenges of being a single dad on the road.
He took a bite of his pancakes. “It’s tough, you know,” he admitted. “Juggling music and raising a child isn’t easy, but we make it work. I try to bring him along whenever I can, and when I can’t, my sister helps out.”
“Family is everything,” Kaylie chimed in, squeezing Sid’s hand.
The conversation flowed naturally as we shared stories and laughter, the camaraderie at the table unmistakable. As I looked around at these people who had welcomed me into their world, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging. Despite the hardships and chaos of life on the road, there was an undeniable bond between them — a family forged not by blood, but by shared experiences and unwavering loyalty. That was the kind of thing I wanted to highlight in my story.
I scooped up a forkful of scrambled eggs and turned to Ryder, who was on my other side. “Ryder, what’s your favorite band, aside from Ghost Parker, obviously?” I asked, wanting to learn more about him.
“Ah, that’s a tough one,” he said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “You can’t beat the classics, Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd ... man, I wish I could’ve been around to see those shows.”
“Right?” I agreed, laughing. “I’m pretty sure I was born in the wrong decade.”
Ryder chuckled before taking a sip of his coffee. “But hey, at least we still have some great bands today. What’s your favorite concert you’ve been to?”
I paused to think. “It’s hard to choose, but I think seeing Coldplay live was awesome. So was Imagine Dragons.”
“Hmmm.” He nodded. “Favorite band?”
“Besides you guys?” I joked, earning a chuckle from him. “Hmm, probably Arctic Monkeys. Alex Turner’s lyrics are so raw and honest; they always get me.”
Ryder nodded approvingly. “I bet Talia would love them too if she could remember the lyrics correctly,” he laughed, referring to his wife. “She’s notorious for butchering songs.”
“Really? That sounds hilarious!” I exclaimed, trying to picture Talia singing off-key.
“Trust me, it is,” he said with a fond smile. “She has this uncanny ability to turn any song into a comedy routine. It’s a talent, really.”
“Speaking of Talia,” I mentioned casually. “She’s friends with Greyson Durant, right? I ... I used to date him.”
Ryder’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, you dated Greyson? That explains why he’s coming to our show on Saturday. We couldn’t figure out why he suddenly wanted to see a show and in Boston at that.”
I took a sip of my orange juice to hide my blush. I felt a bit self-conscious, but also oddly proud that my connection to Greyson was the reason for his interest in the band. “Who knows? Maybe he just wants to see you guys rock out.”
“Or maybe he misses you,” Kaylie suggested with a playful wink.
Before I could respond, Bash’s toddler son, Kody, waddled over to me and tugged on my pant leg. I looked down at his big, innocent eyes and couldn’t help but smile. “Hey there, little man. What’s up?”
“Up, up!” Kody demanded, reaching his tiny arms toward me. I couldn’t help but smile at the adorable little boy.
I glanced at Bash for permission before scooping him onto my lap.
“Looks like you’ve made a new friend,” Ryder teased.
He immediately snuggled into me as if we’d known each other for years. It was then that I realized just how much being accepted and welcomed by the band’s inner circle, even by its youngest member.
Kody was playing with the ends of my hair as Knox told a story about a practical joke Sid and Bash had once played on him. The laughter around the table quieted as we turned to see Ghost stumbling in, looking disheveled and distant, with dark circles under his eyes.
“Morning, sunshine,” Bash greeted him with a smirk, though concern laced his tone.
Ghost mumbled something unintelligible, rubbing his temples as he surveyed the room. His eyes locked onto mine for a brief moment, and I could see the unease lingering behind them.
“Uh, I forgot something in my room,” Ghost muttered lamely, turning on his heel and retreating back down the hallway.
Knox called after him, “Wait up, Ghost.” He exchanged worried looks with the rest of the band before excusing himself to follow Ghost.
“Is he okay?” I asked quietly, as if voicing my concern might shatter the delicate balance of the morning.
