Beats of the Heart [MxM]

19. Rev 2 Sound Transform

Miles' internal clock woke him up earlier than he had hoped. He had stayed up late, and when he tried to sleep, he had tossed and turned in bed. He was stressed about Trickshot more than Brian. Now he regretted letting them know who he was. He should have hidden Requiem for a little longer.

He climbed out of bed and staggered to the shower. He needed to wake up and get his day started. He needed to finalize some things for Dirge, contact Shawn to discuss the studio, and drink copious amounts of coffee.

He rested his head against the tile as the water cascaded down his body. And he needed to create a new setlist. He had no idea what someone would do with it. Sure, they could copy and use it for their show, but they wouldn't know how to transition the songs or where he wanted to layer it with phrasing or cuts. If Trickshot was trying to bite his style, he could mimic some of it. If he had been practicing, he might have had a better chance of copying him. But not now. Not with his current level of skills.

What bothered him the most was that he didn't know the crux of the problem with Trickshot. What was the catalyst? What made him stop making music? He ached to be on the turntables constantly, so how could someone just walk away?

He dragged himself out of the shower when the water started to run cold. He looked in the mirror and considered cleaning up his beard and hair. He hadn't buzzed his head for a while, and it was growing faster than expected. He ran his hand over it and decided against it. Maybe he will let it grow again. It would be hot under his mask, but he might not need to wear it much longer.

His phone started to ring, and he sighed as he fumbled to grab it. He was too tired to deal with any more bullshit. However, the exhaustion seemed to melt away as he saw Shawn's name on the screen.

"Miss me already?" He said as he answered the phone.

He was greeted by Shawn's husky laughter that practically made him weak in the knees. "Absolutely. I also wanted to check in to see how you are feeling."

Miles sighed and fell into his bed. "Like I got into a fight and lost."

"Shit. Do you need to go to a doctor?"

Miles laughed. "No. Not my first time on the losing side of a fight. Just need some Ibuprofen and ice."

Shawn grumbled something about being stubborn on the other line but didn't insist on a doctor. "How did the discussions go?"

Miles frowned. "It took a while to come up with a half-cocked plan. We finally went to bed..." he looked at the clock, "three hours ago."

"Fuck," Shawn spat out. "I should have called later."

"I was already up. Goddamn internal clock." Miles said half-jokingly. "But I was going to call you today."

Miles could hear Shawn's sharp intake of breath. "What for?"

"For now, we want to take you up on that offer to use your studios." Miles tried to hide the nervousness from his voice. He hadn't had to ask for help like this before and felt off-kilter. However, something told him that trusting Shawn like this would be okay.