Band On The Run

I'm Still Standing

"Having to actually make plans with you freaks me out," I said thoughtfully as I took a cautious sip from my mug. And promptly burnt my mouth.

Will snorted loudly, almost burning himself with the tea in his own mug that sloshed dangerously. He wisely set it aside, allowing it time to cool down. "We make plans all the time, what are you talking about?"

"We have plans made for us," I corrected right before I burnt my tongue again. Clearly I wasn't as sensible as him, or maybe I was a glutton for punishment because I just took another sip. "And then we just hang out before or after. Now that Mark's stopped all publicity for the foreseeable future we're forced to make plans. It's weird."

"I'd like to point out that we lived together – nobody made plans for us then."

I rolled my eyes blatantly. "Yeah, so we just hung out all the time because we lived together. And after that we were always touring or recording or rehearsing. It's just different now that we have to call one another up to see if we want to get coffee or else we wouldn't see each other."

"I miss that apartment so much sometimes," he admitted, almost wistful. "I know it was a pure piece of shit, don't get me wrong, but man, I think those were the golden days."

It was a sentiment I couldn't help but agree with. Whenever I thought back to those days the memories were always tinged in gold. Many a fight had been had in that apartment with the peeling wallpaper with its thin walls that shook with our stereo, but those were never the moments that popped to mind. It was before the drugs had really taken a hold, before Will and I really had seen any money, and long before those endless tours.

I remembered Seth eyeing it up skeptically when he'd helped me move in, but to his credit he'd never said a word against it, understanding that living in such a place was important for me. I remembered staying up way too late with Will, lying in his bed as we stared up at the water spot on the ceiling and said any thought that popped into our heads – all our dreams and fears and childhood traumas, every second of it bonding us together. I remembered Jake gravitating there, even though he had a trendy apartment in Midtown. And I especially remembered the parties we used to throw there.

Not every second in that place had been perfect, but I had no interest in remembering those times. My time with my band had enough bad memories – I was far more content to think of the golden days as if they were an old time movie in my head. I felt like that was a nice change of pace for me. Especially if those days were over now.

"They were golden," I agreed, sharing a private smile with my very best friend in the world.

He returned the look and I knew we were thinking the same thing.

After a long pause, Will cleared his throat purposefully, almost like he was hiding being choked up. Then he took a sip from his tea, and said, "I thought you might bring Nick along to this coffee date."

"He got in pretty late last night," I returned with a little shrug. "He looked pretty worn out; they had them running that treadmill in LA with no breaks. This morning he didn't even move when I got up, so I figured he probably needs some sleep."

Will made a sympathetic noise, busying himself by looking down at his mug.

Thoughtfully I chewed on my bottom lip, thoughts running through my brain as I looked at my friend who was specifically not looking back at me. I knew I should keep my mouth shut, but I just couldn't help myself. So acting way too casual about it, I let my eyes drift out the window to look at the grey street outside and said, "So speaking of LA –"

"Nope," Will said firmly.

My eyes flew to him, and I couldn't help the fact I looked affronted by the interruption. "What?" I asked, more defensive than I should've been. "I was just going to ask how Claire's doing now she's back in California."