(no subject)

[makemebreak]

Title: Hey Baby, They're Playing Our Song [The One We Used To Hear When We Used To Get Along]
Author: makemebreak
Genre: Comedy
Claim: Brendon Urie/Gabe Saporta
Prompt: Fixed
Rating: PG
Word Count: 11343
Summary: Spencer sat down on a counter and laughed at a new message received. "Ha. Ryan says you'll be a better person somewhere around the time Pete decides to join a monastery and devote his life to the search for enlightenment from a higher power."
Warnings: Language, mentions of drug use.
Notes: Beta'd by sweetrecovery She's been more than patient with me on this one and she's also rec-ing it apparently. Thank her.

The list idea was taken from the show My Name Is Earl. I don't own that either. The cut text is taken from the song "Hey Baby, They're Playing Our Song" by The Buckinghams. Best pop song ever.
Disclaimer: This is very much made-up, I take no credit and make no profit.



It would help to read this and this.

Of all the first meetings Gabe’s ever had with someone in the music industry, the one he would forever remember was the first time he met with Panic at the Disco. To be completely accurate, he would never forget meeting Brendon.

Outside a venue in some city that Gabe wouldn’t remember the name of later if he tried, Gabe went outside for a cigarette and tried to remember whether or not he’d bought a fresh pack that day.

Against a red-bricked wall, Brendon Urie was crouched over his sidekick, furiously sending text-messages. The familiarity of the situation pole-axed Gabe right as he was approaching Brendon to see if he had a lighter. He recognized the face from pictures Pete had shown him while raving about his latest find.

The face in front of him wasn’t what was troublesome at all. Gabe’s head spun with the sickest sense of déjà vu. This expanse of red, this endless sidewalk; Gabe had been here before, many, many times. Upon looking down, Gabe realized he was in his purple hoodie and Brendon was in one just the masculine side of lilac. The cigarette dropped from Gabe’s mouth and he carefully took a few steps back. He wasn’t ready for this sort of confrontation.

The sick feeling in Gabe's stomach didn't go away every single time he saw Brendon. If anything, it got a whole lot worse. They toured together a few months after their initial meeting and each day Brendon managed to disappear before Gabe could even attempt to drag him off to talk to him.

It really didn't help that Spencer seemed to be totally onto Gabe’s various plots and plans to get time alone with Brendon and thwarted them with an ease that had Gabe questioning his mortality. It was entirely possible that Spencer had some sort of superhuman powers that allowed him to sense Gabe's intentions before they were even turned into actions. If that was the case, it was incredibly unfair and basically disproved the existence of a god.

He still hadn't quite figured out what the dreams meant, other than he potentially tortured someone in an alternate universe and did it while wearing the clothes from his current universe. So, he was some sort of stylish tormentor to Brendon in another dimension that was a never-ending venue sidewalk.

Gabe preferred not to think about why he might’ve stopped having the dream now that they had met.

None of this would’ve really bothered Gabe if it weren’t for the fact that Brendon was cute. Short, but cute as all hell and kind of impossible to not think about all day, every day. The more time Gabe spent around him, the more Gabe realized Brendon was kind of amazing and someone that Gabe wanted to get to know better in a biblical sense and in a relationship sense. Gabe figured it was kind of serious at that point. He never had interest in relationships. When he finally figured it out, he made mention of it. Unfortunately he made the mistake of mentioning it in front of Spencer.

"No. Not at all. Absolutely not," Spencer hissed, his face instantly souring. He pulled Gabe off to the side and shook his head up at him. "No. You are staying away from Brendon, absolutely a hundred and ten percent away from him."

"Where did you even come from? How do you appear like that?" Gabe pulled his arm back, trying to keep from getting it pulled off.

"Not really your biggest concern here. You're not going after Brendon. I don't need my lead singer dragged down with the likes of you." Spencer shook his head and pulled out his BlackBerry. "The only way I would ever consider telling him to go for you is if you somehow became a really awesome person who, like, rescued puppies from shelters."

"Rescued puppies from shelters." Gabe began programming this into his phone. "What else would I have to do?"

"What? No, that was an example! I don't mean you actually have to do that. You'd just have to become a better person. Like. Laying off the drugs? Maybe not fucking everything that has a hole?" Spencer furiously clicked at the buttons on his phone, returning an email with force.

"I don't fuck everything with a hole. I stayed away from your Mom, didn't I?" Gabe looked around for someone to high-five. Finding no one, Gabe's shoulders slumped.

"Okay, you actually pretty much need to become an entirely different person. I don't think better is going to cover it." Spencer looked at Gabe in disbelief.

"An entirely different person?" Gabe's eyes widened and he slipped his phone into his pocket. "So. I should change my name or something? I could become some sort of exotic dancer."

"I think the goal was to become a better person. And I'm not sure if you realized this, but exotic dancers are sort of a dime a dozen in Vegas. It's probably actually really easy to become a different person than you are." Spencer sat down on a counter and laughed at a new message received. "Ha. Ryan says you'll be a better person somewhere around the time Pete decides to join a monastery and devote his life to the search for enlightenment from a higher power."

"That's not fair. We already know that won't happen because Pete won't give up sex!" Gabe flailed and Spencer ducked for cover. Seriously, those limbs could go for weeks. "Okay, okay. So. I become a better person and then I have your permission, which I totally don't need, to declare my intentions to Brendon?"

"I'm sorry, did you just say my permission wasn't needed in this situation?" Spencer's facial expression shifted slightly, and only because Gabe had spent a large portion of his time observing Panic at the Disco in their natural habitat was he able to recognize the emotion on it as smug self-satisfaction. "Gabe, in twenty minutes I want you to come to our dressing room and ask Brendon if he wants to go with you to the store to pick up the re-release of The Fox and The Hound."

"Excuse me?"

"Twenty minutes, Saporta. Ten should be enough, but twenty gives me plenty of time." Spencer turned and before Gabe could even register the movement, Spencer was gone.
Spencer, Gabe decided, was a ninja in another life.

*

Nineteen minutes later, Gabe knocked on Panic’s dressing room door. He squared his shoulders and attempted to look like a moral and upstanding person.

Jon opened the door and immediately began laughing. "Oh, man. You do not want to be here right now."

"What?" Gabe was seriously confused. He hadn't taken anything all day; everything was staying right side up and this was a world Gabe wasn't entirely used to. Nothing was shifting, hissing around his ankles, up his jeans.

"Just trust me." Jon reached up to squeeze Gabe's shoulder.

"Can I just talk to Brendon or something?" Gabe leaned against the door. This tiny band of wee scene boys was proving to be too much for him.

"It's not a good idea." Jon shook his head and tried to close the door and walk into the hall at the same time.

"Look, I just need to talk to Brendon for a minute. I heard about this rad music store that I think he'd probably really like." Gabe looked easily over Jon's head and spotted Brendon sitting on the couch, curled around Spencer's thigh while Spencer patted his head.

"Spencer, make him go away. He doesn't believe." Brendon buried his face in Spencer's stomach and tried to make himself invisible by curling up into a smaller ball.

"Brendon? I just wanted to see if you wanted to come to the store. I thought maybe you were getting cooped up in here," Gabe called over Jon's shoulder and watched as Brendon looked up, his eyes narrowing.

"This is not a dressing room for disbelievers. You're not welcome here," Brendon said in a clipped voice.

"What?" Gabe wrapped an arm around Jon and moved him out of place so he could walk in. "What are you even talking about?"

"Don't you take one step further." Brendon stood and placed his hands on his hips. "You get the hell out of this room and don't even think about coming back. Not believing in Hobbes, who does that? Just because you can't see him doesn't mean he isn't completely real to Calvin."

"I. Wait, what? Calvin and Hobbes? That's what. You're upset because I know Hobbes is Calvin's imaginary animal friend?" Gabe took a step closer before flinching back at the look on Brendon's face.

"You get out, and you get out now before I decide that you shouldn't be on this tour! I reject you and your willingness to disbelieve in something just because there's no proof in it. I mean, you probably don't even think the Loch Ness monster is really there." Brendon's voice sounded screechy and Gabe, really having no desire for Panic to have to cancel that night’s show because their singer couldn't sing, began to walk backward out of the room.

"Um." Gabe raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, God. You actually don't! That's it, you're off the tour!" Brendon crossed his arms and attempted to give Gabe a scathing look.

"Uh, Bren, you can't really make that decision on your own. And. I mean, they're good openers." Ryan shrugged and started ushering Gabe out of the room even as he defended him.

"Ryan Ross, you filthy traitor. You and I are no longer friends."

Gabe heard the door close behind him and what sounded like a make-up bag hitting the door.

Yeah, okay, Spencer's permission was completely necessary.

*

"Gabe's List of Betterness?" Ryland was sitting on the couch on the bus and throwing out ideas for the name of Gabe's list of ways to make himself a completely different person.

"The Difficult Voyage of Gabriel Eduardo Saporta to the Destination Good Person Land," Nate offered from the floor. He'd maybe already had a few drinks when they started playing the name game.

"Steps on the Straight and Narrow Path to Spencer James Smith the Fifth's Permission to Declare My Intentions to One Brendon Boyd Urie." Alex looked up from reading 'The Alchemist' and possibly playing a drinking game with himself.

"I. I actually really like that." Gabe nodded and carefully printed it at the top of the page in block letters. "Okay, so I have to become a different person. But I don't think he means giving up my identity. Or identifying characteristics. Or I'd be totally screwed." Gabe made a note of that under the title.

He thought about his daily routine and tried to think of which things Spencer would consider bad. The conclusion he came to was that everything Spencer considered bad was everything Gabe considered to be fun.

With the same careful block letters, Gabe listed the first three items on his list. Wake up before 10 a.m. Go to bed before midnight. Start eating breakfast. They were simple and they were the first tasks recorded. He would've made the bedtime earlier but he was fairly certain that Spencer was often up much later than midnight. Still, better safe than sorry.

*

The first thing Gabe crossed off the list was Start eating breakfast. The joint he'd smoked with Jon and Tom first thing in the morning helped with that. As he sat in the diner, enjoying his third plate of waffles, he waved happily to Spencer across the room.

There was a look of disapproval on his face but it wasn't entirely aimed at Gabe. Jon and Tom were making obscene noises over their own plates of hash browns and sausage links.

"Why does Spencer look so pissy, guys?" Gabe asked, kicking their legs under the table to get their attention.

"Hm? Oh, he hates when we smoke first thing in the morning to get over a hangover." Tom moaned around a particularly greasy hash brown before swallowing a bit of orange juice. "Actually, he kind of hates when we smoke first thing in the morning. Or at night. Or in the afternoon."

"What? Seriously, he hates you guys smoking? How do you work up an appetite after drinking all night?" Gabe raised his hands, not sure how that even worked.

"He doesn't like when you drink all night either." Jon looked up, his eyes glassy.

"Does he like anything?" Gabe asked around a mouthful of waffles.

"Well, he definitely doesn't like a lot of what you do. Or anything of what you do, actually. I think the exact phrase he used was that your life was a joke without a punch line." Jon turned to Tom for confirmation on the phrasing.

"No, that's what you said the movie Superstar was. Spencer said that Gabe was the reason the world couldn't have nice things." Tom nodded and slurped down a drink of his orange juice.

"That's so not true, guys. I gave the world the phrase 'Fangs up.' If that isn't a contribution to humanity, then I've been doing it wrong." Gabe shook his head and stood up, tossing some money down to cover his breakfast. His waffles suddenly tasted like sawdust.

*

Gabe realized he was going to have to give up his nighttime parties with the rest of his band. There couldn't be any more drinking if he wanted to have an appetite for breakfast and if he wanted to be up at a reasonable hour in the morning. Don't have more than two drinks in one day, unless you see Spencer drinking, which you won't so don't be stupid. Gabe had his suspicions that his list had been found and potentially edited by the tour ninja because the careful script writing of that last bit of his next goal looked nothing like his own.

The first night was the hardest. Nate brought out a large handle of Limoncello and if there was one thing Gabe loved his alcohol to be, it was fruity. He mixed one glass carefully with orange juice and took a sip. He nursed the drink while Nate went onto his third, fourth, fifth, and sixth.

Before long, Nate was rolling on the floor laughing with Alex about how funny the name Limoncello was. Gabe, not finding the conversation particularly humorous or enjoyable, went to his bunk.

When he checked his watch, it was only ten minutes to eleven. He really had no idea how people were supposed to stay sober if nothing was funny.

After a while, he managed to drift off, and he was surprised to find that he was awake at nine the next morning. In college, nine had only existed once a day and it had never included the sun being so high in the sky. The bus was quiet and he was able to use the time to look around and survey the damage. The glass he had been drinking from but hadn't finished was sitting on the counter, now a sickly purple color. Gabe emptied it into the toilet and figured it was better not to ask questions.

Nate was asleep under the table, arm curled protectively around the bottle. He only shifted slightly when Gabe kicked him to make sure he was still alive. Better safe than sorry. As they approached a gas station, Gabe realized he had begun work on two of his other goals. He wouldn't cross them off because that could've just been a fluke, but still, it was nice to feel at least a little accomplished.

Stepping off the bus, Gabe shaded his eyes. He'd forgotten where his latest pair of sunglasses was, but he figured he could find some at the truck stop. He approached the gas station with a sense of wonder at the people who were out. It was like there was another culture that lived during the day. He never got to see these people. There was a woman with two small children in line to pay for gas, and the kids looked up at him in amazement. Neither could've been more than four feet tall. Gabe just smiled cheerfully at them and went over to the food section. He needed a breakfast that was both nutritional and tasty. Spencer would have to see then that he was being responsible and completely unlike the old Gabe.

"Part of a balanced breakfast," Gabe read the back of a box of Lucky Charms and decided to take it. He was sure they had the other parts to the balanced breakfast somewhere on the bus. If not, well, at least he'd had one part.

*

When Gabe sat down with the list again, he realized that somewhere along the line he'd added Cut back on recreational drug use, even though stopping altogether would be a better idea. Underneath that were three other points: Tell Ryland who really broke his new headphones; Buy Ryland new headphones; and Apologize to Nate for framing him so well for breaking Ryland's headphones.

It had been a stroke of genius, really. Gabe had been used Ryland's headphones in the back lounge one day and instead of putting them back where he had found them, Gabe had accidentally left them on the floor. It wasn't that they were particularly nice headphones, but they were Ryland's, and he was particular about which brand and model he used.

On the floor, they'd gotten mixed up with a blanket and some dirty laundry. When Gabe had walked back there to collect the laundry one day, he'd stepped on the headphones and snapped the earpiece off one end.

Rather than admit the truth, he'd stuffed the broken headphones in Nate's laundry bag, knowing that Nate just dumped everything into the washer and pressed wash. Someone truly should have taught him about separating colors from whites and darks. While Gabe was on that thought, he added Teach Nate how to properly do laundry.

When Ryland had seen his headphones come out of Nate's laundry, he was furious and hadn't spoken to Nate for the rest of the day. It was difficult since it was their day to act out a Friends episode for their tourmates. Ryland, ever the thinker, had chosen the one where Chandler was in the box on Thanksgiving. Hilarious for Gabe to get to see Nate stuffed in a box because Ryland was angry at him, but certainly damaging to their band dynamic.

Gabe knew he would have to buy Ryland another pair of headphones and probably make it up to Nate by buying him something to drink. He was probably going to have to add Stop contributing to the delinquency of minors to his list. But that was definitely going to have to be later. He was a musician, after all.

The next day they were stopped in a city large enough for him to go to a store and buy Ryland a new set of headphones, Gabe was in a taxi on his way to the store. He'd refused offers of company from Elisa, Alex, and Ryan. He couldn't let any of them spoil the surprise.

When Gabe returned to the bus, he was holding tightly to two different shopping bags. It
was never easy being seen buying Disarono; Nate's drink of choice, but even harder was picking up the ridiculous pink Skull Candy headphones Ryland liked so much.

As he was already in a sour mood from shopping when he returned to the bus, he essentially threw both bags at the intended recipients and walked back to his bunk. "Nate, I'm sorry I got you in trouble for breaking Ryland's headphones, enjoy your girly booze. Ryland, I'm sorry I broke your headphones and let Nate take the fall for it. Enjoy your girly headphones."

Gabe opened the list and crossed off the three points related to Ryland's headphones. When he realized he didn't feel good about crossing them off, which was probably something he should feel, Gabe uncapped his pen again to write a new line.

Stop being an asshole about fixing the things on the list because they wouldn't be on here if you weren't such a giant douchebag sometimes.

*

One of the worst things Gabe had to put on the list, even worse than Stop peeing in public pools just to gross out other people, was Apologize to Heath, Tyler, and Rob for being such a fuck-up and ruining a really good thing, even though other good things came from it. That one made Gabe's head hurt just to think about. He didn't want them to remember him as the asshole that ruined it for them.

Even though he knew he wasn't the only one responsible for Midtown’s demise, he knew he was the one most responsible. It was hard to write a record when you were strung out half the time and high out of your mind the other half.

He had to time it right. There was no room for error on that item on his list. It wasn't something he wanted to do face to face, but it was something he knew he needed to do in person. Gabe hated apologizing in general. He was good at it, could make it sound as sincere as he wanted it to, but he hated to admit he was wrong.

Gabe thought about what everyone was up to now that Midtown was over. Heath was in Senses Fail, enjoying his time with a band that partied but never to the extreme that he'd partied. Rob, ever the business-minded individual, had decided to form a record label. Tyler had struggled for a few months before hooking up with a new band. Gabe knew that none of them were enjoying even the novelty type of success he was having, and it twisted at the pit of his stomach, making him nauseated.

Finally, he decided he'd have to call each one of them. After calling in multiple favors from people, he managed to track down their cell phone numbers. Heath and Rob weren't terrible. They agreed to meet with him when they were both in the same place at the same time. Tyler, for some reason, had taken the band’s break up the hardest.

If Gabe had to guess, and he really had to because he couldn't really remember the dissolution of the band, he'd say Tyler took it the hardest because he was the one who had finally said, "Fuck it, guys, I don't think we should be a band anymore if we want to stay friends with each other." Gabe remembered that phrase clearly. Tyler had been the one for a pre-emptive action. Ultimately, Tyler had been wrong.

There was no love lost between the guys. There were no calls from different tours updating the other friends on current statuses. Christ, even calling to discuss what should be done about the old website had required a few drinks and more than a few pills on Gabe's part. They'd ended their band to remain friends, but they hadn't even ended up casual acquaintances.

"Hello?" Tyler answered the phone in a cautious tone. Gabe checked the time to make sure he hadn't accidentally waited until it was far too late in the day to politely call someone.

"Tyler? It's um. It's Gabe." Gabe cleared his throat and dug his fingers into his phone. His other hand was holding a cigarette and it was shakier than Gabe liked to admit.

"Gabe. Hi." If there was surprise in Tyler's voice, it was faint and only noticeable from the years Gabe had spent with him.

"How are you?" Gabe tried to go the polite route. He knew this would be the hardest call because they'd been the closest. "I mean, how have you been?"

"I'm good. Things have been going good." Even from just his voice, Gabe could see Tyler leaning up against the wall and chewing the inside of his cheek. "What about you? I mean, I saw your video. It looks like things are going really well for you."

"Yeah, well. Yeah, things are going okay. I kind of wanted to ask you for sort of like, half a favor, maybe?" Gabe flicked off a half-inch of ash on his cigarette and then flicked again even though there was nothing new collected. He'd hardly even smoked any of the cigarette; it was more a comfort thing.

"Oh. Okay." Tyler's voice had immediately stiffened, blocked any of his real emotion from Gabe.

"It's nothing bad. I'm not in any trouble. I don't need you to come bail me out again. Well, you know, not in the traditional sense of the phrase. I just kind of want to. Look, when I'm in town again, would it be cool if we met up or something? I don't know. Went for a drink? Maybe caught a show?" Gabe babbled the words before he could give them any actual thought.

"You want to hang out when you're back in the city." Tyler exhaled softly, sounding as though he was giving the matter a great deal of thought. "Gabe, I don't really know if that's such a good idea. I mean. Look, you're. I'm happy for you, man. I am. I just don't know if we've got anything left to talk about." He'd never been one to mince words. He genuinely thought there was nothing that could be salvaged from their friendship.

Gabe dropped his cigarette and stubbed it out with his big toe. "There is. I'm trying this thing, like, I'm trying to write down all these things that I have to change and one of the things is this. You and the guys. I want to make up for what happened there."

"That isn't just something you can make up. I mean, it happened, it's in the past, so if you're going to AA and you want my support or you want to talk through whatever messed-up shit you were going through, that's great. I mean, really, it's awesome. I'm happy you're getting clean or whatever, but you don't need to make up for this. It happened and we all moved on." Tyler exhaled loudly again.

"No, it's not AA. It's not one of those religious experience things. I just. I want to make things okay because what I did really sucked…"

"It did, okay? You know it and we know it and this would've happened eventually anyway. There's no way we could've kept recording and touring and doing everything we were doing. You weren't the only one responsible. The band would've ended one day regardless. We're all culpable, all right?" Tyler's voice was almost unnaturally calm as he cut Gabe off. "It's not that I don't think you mean well, because I know you do, man. I just don't think this is something you should be trying to do."

"Change my life?" Gabe turned his lighter over in his hand.

"No, this. The band. Me. I mean, we tried to help you. We tried so hard, man. We took the time off, we switched labels. We did everything we could and you just. It's like you took a giant shit on it. I walked away, and maybe that was wrong, but you can only help someone who doesn't want to be helped for so long. And maybe it's petty, maybe it's vindictive, but I don't want to help you anymore, Gabe. So just. Move on from this. Lose my number, man."

Gabe heard the distinctive click of being hung up on before his phone indicated the call had ended. He stared at the phone for a moment. He had no idea how to react to what Tyler had just told him. Thinking back, Tyler had tried to help him. Everyone had. Gabe always knew there was a soft landing waiting at one of their places. He gritted his teeth and pulled his list out of his front pocket. In black Sharpie, he wrote Apologize to the people who genuinely tried to help me that I turned my back on directly under the point about his old bandmates.

*

As Gabe continued to cross things off his list (Stop smoking where the secondhand smoke can affect other people; Leave a penny; and Make a donation to a homeless shelter, you've had enough come downs in them), he noticed Spencer watching him. Instead of smiling and waving as he had on that first day when he was so proud of his one accomplishment, Gabe ducked his head and looked away.

Spencer was no saint; Gabe had seen him duck off into dark corners of bars and venues with Tom and come back looking suitably rumpled, but he seemed to have it together. He wasn't constantly at the whims of his addictions or desires. He seemed to be holding some sort of relationship together with Tom.

When Gabe thought neither of them were paying attention, he watched them. He tried not to do it in a creepy way or in a way that made either of them notice he was watching. There were little things like Tom bringing Spencer coffee the way he liked it, or Spencer making sure to grab a cheese Danish rather than a cherry Danish for Tom.

Think of others more often than I think of myself was added to his list after he saw Spencer come back to the venue with a pack of black and white film for Tom.

*

"Okay, I have to ask, what's with the list?" Demar asked, walking up to Gabe one day and flicking the piece of paper Gabe was scribbling on. Learn one new thing about everyone on tour.

"How do you know it's a list?" Gabe immediately folded it up and placed it down the front of his pants.

"Because I always see you crossing things off on it." Demar shrugged and took a step back. Gabe had been counting on Demar’s curiosity only taking him so far.

"It's just this thing I'm trying to do." Gabe tried to play it off as no big deal. He knew to everyone else it wasn't a big deal.

"All right, it's cool. You keep your secrets, Gabe." Demar grinned and began walking away.

"Demar? Hold up a second. Did you ever have a dog growing up?" Gabe saw Demar internally try to process what Gabe was talking about. Lists one second, dogs the next.

"Yeah, I had two. Chocolate labs. Minnie and Mickey. Are you high, man? You want me to stay here and talk with you?" It was common knowledge among Gabe’s many acquaintances that he was chatty when he was high.

"No, I'm flying straight today." He knew Demar wouldn't believe him about not having taken anything for a week, so he kept quiet about that. Gabe did point to his pupils as proof, though. He wanted to at least be believed.

"All right, cool. I gotta soundcheck, but we'll hang later, okay?"

And just like that, Demar was gone again. Spencer was clearly teaching the rest of the tour that ninja thing he did so well. After a moment of consideration, Gabe took the list back out and looked around before adding Be nicer to Spencer because he's smart and had to grow up way too fucking fast, not just because he's a ninja and might one day teach you his secrets.

*

Gabe's list had proven itself useful time and again. Because he definitely had the world's worst memory, he was constantly writing things down or typing them into his Sidekick. That was how he'd come to have everyone's Starbucks order in his phone.

Having everyone's order in his phone led to his trying to balance three trays of drinks. He had a sneaking suspicion that Starbucks had shorted him a drink, but he had no way of checking until he got into the venue and was able to open his phone again. Gabe would have demanded that Tom come with him, but he was still trying to get on Spencer's good side. The best way to get on Spencer's good side probably had nothing to do with taking his boyfriend away from him during his limited free time.

Gabe arrived at the backstage area in time to see everyone congregate in the room. "Okay, I've got a ton of really hot coffee. Please don't attack me." They allowed him to set the trays down before swarming them, removing the beverages they'd ordered.

"Bren, you know you shouldn't have dairy before the show." Ryan took Brendon's large frappucino from him.

"No, no. He's fine to have it. It's soy. I made sure to get his with soy so he could drink it." Gabe plucked the drink from Ryan's hand and turned it back over to Brendon. He leaned in close to Spencer and spoke softly. "It's also decaf."

For the first time in a long time, Spencer smiled at Gabe and it was almost as nice as the smile that flickered over Brendon’s cheeks as he took a drink from his soy, decaf frappucino.

*

Gabe crossed a few more things off his list as the tour progressed. Delete numbers of all my dealers happened the week after the worst of his cravings. He could feel the dirty itch building up under his skin, and he only had to look around to see people using. Even if they weren't using anything hard, they were still escaping.

The first night of withdrawal, Gabe sat in a hotel room watching Alex sleep. It would've been so easy to flip open his phone and make a few calls. He could've had something to him in less than half an hour.

Rather than do that, Gabe had turned on the lights, the TV, his laptop, and his iPod. When Alex woke up in the morning, Gabe was staring at a blank laptop with headphones on his head and a televangelist playing on the TV. To his credit, Alex had talked to Gabe and made sure he was all right.

After being reassured that the cobra hadn't come back and that the world was nowhere near ending, Alex had disappeared into the shower and Gabe had gone down to the hotel’s continental breakfast. He had no appetite and no desire to be around food, but he needed to reassure himself there were other people in the world.

Rather than sitting a few tables over with Tom, Spencer dragged Tom over with their trays full of food. "You look like hell." Spencer hadn't bothered with pleasantries.

"I feel like hell. I didn't sleep last night." Gabe's hands shook as he tried to smooth out the tablecloth. "I couldn't sleep."

"What did you take?" Spencer asked it while spreading cream cheese over a bagel, deliberately casual.

"Nothing. I haven't had anything in a day or two. I just couldn't sleep. You know? It's like, you take the uppers and then you take the downers and without the uppers there shouldn't be a reason for the downers but there is. Sort of. I don't know if I can do this, Spencer." Gabe tried to pour himself a cup of coffee from the carafe in the middle of the table, but he couldn't hold the mug steady.

"Wait, do what?" Spencer raised his eyebrows and set down the bagel.

“Make myself a different person for Brendon. I mean, I'm trying and I've got the no drinking down and the waking up. I mean, if I actually went to sleep. But I can't sleep and I don't really know how long this will last." Gabe rested his head on the table, ignoring the fact that he was likely drawing the attention of other patrons now.

"Oh, Christ. You're actually. Gabe, did you actually take what I said to heart?" Spencer cocked his head to the side and looked carefully at Gabe as he spoke.

"Well, yeah. I mean. You were right, weren't you? Brendon, he's not a saint or anything, but he deserves someone good. Like, a really good person who doesn't have to go through coke withdrawals or set their phone to go off three different times so they can wake up at 9:59 a.m." Gabe lifted his head to look at Spencer.

“I didn’t know you had brown eyes. I honestly think this might be the first I’ve seen you without your pupils totally blown.” Spencer shook his head in what appeared to be disbelief.

“I really want this. I kind of thought it was going to go away, you know? But I mean. I watch him. Not in a creepy way, don’t worry. Just like backstage and stuff. He doesn’t talk down to the techs. I guess it looks like he’s grateful and I really like that about him.” Gabe ducked his head for just a moment.

"You're actually serious about this," Spencer said, his voice softening.

"I made a list. There's like. I've crossed some things off." Gabe reached into his pocket and fidgeted with it before handing it over.

"You made a list." Tom also seemed impressed.

"And don't worry, you're on there." Gabe pointed to the bottom of the sheet. Accidentally exposed a roll of Tom's film. "I haven't figured out how to make up for that. I mean. I apologized, I think. I was really high, man."

"You apologized, profusely. But then you called me your favourite queermo photographer." Tom looked as though he vividly recalled the incident. "The only thing wrecked on that roll was the soundtrack release party. You screwed yourself out of some promo shots."

"Would you have sold the pictures?" Gabe scratched at his inner thigh to try to occupy his hands. Tom looked supremely offended at the question.

"No." The word was short, clipped, and Tom couldn't have looked colder saying it if he'd tried. Gabe tried to think back to the release party. He remembered most of it, and remembered how Tom had watched Mike at the side of the stage. More accurately, Gabe remembered how Tom had watched Mike watch William onstage.

Gabe swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "Right. I should just. I'll go back to my room. I'll see you guys when it's bus call." He excused himself from the table and stumbled out of the dining hall.

*

"Hey, Tom, can I talk to you?" Gabe waited until Spencer had gone onstage before tugging at the sleeve of Tom's hoodie.

Since their conversation in the dining room, Gabe had been frozen out by Tom. He wasn't sure if he'd somehow insulted Tom by asking if he'd sell his pictures, or if he'd simply brought up memories Tom would rather not deal with.

"What do you want?" Tom seemed distracted as they stood backstage, just slightly away from the hustle and bustle of everyone packing up.

"I want to apologize. For whatever I did that insulted you. I really never meant to. Or if I brought something up I shouldn't have." Gabe looked down at his feet in embarrassment.

"I'm happier out here, okay? I don't feel like I felt back then. I feel really good about myself right now and I don't want that to change anytime soon. I don't want." Tom paused for a moment. "I don't want Spencer to remember what I was like back then and change his mind. Because I really couldn't take that."

"Was he the reason you turned it all around?" Gabe had never heard Tom speak this freely without the aid of drugs or alcohol.

"One of them. Look, I want to catch the set but tomorrow we'll get coffee or something. This isn't the time or place to have this conversation." Tom reached up and squeezed Gabe's shoulder before turning around and walking back to the side of the stage. Gabe stood in the same position and nodded at Tom's words.

True to his word, Tom brought coffee over to Gabe's bus during the drive and dragged him into the back, balancing two large coffees in a tray as he guided Gabe onto the couch. "Okay. So. You're going to do this."

"Just so we're clear 'this' means…" Gabe trailed off and looked over at Tom before pulling the flap back on his coffee and taking a sip.

"Trying to woo Brendon or however you refer to it. Do you actually use the word ‘woo’?" Tom raised his eyebrows. "Because seriously, that's the gayest thing I've ever heard. And I mean, I have sex with another guy. So."

"I don't refer to it as wooing! I'm not from some British novel. I refer to it as enticing him into the warm embrace of my love." Gabe shook his head and huffed. Tom just gaped for a moment as he popped open the lid on his own coffee.

"I. Oh, my God. I can't even. I don't have words for this, Gabe." Tom set down his cup to keep from dropping it when he fell off the couch laughing. After a moment he had to clutch at his side.

"Hey, asshole, you said you were going to have a talk. Can we not discuss what I may or may not call my plan on how to get Brendon to agree to be my one and only?" Gabe was starting to look pouty, and that was never a good look for him.

Tom attempted to calm himself down and lift his body back onto the couch. It took three tries and Gabe threatening to pants him the next time Tom was taking pictures at the side of the stage.

"Fine. Fine, okay. So. You want to entice Brendon. And you think the best way to do this is to get clean." Tom reached for the list in a cautious manner, trying to keep from laughing.

"Well. No, not just get clean. Like. Be a really good person. Because I've been watching him and he's one of those people who everyone seems to really like and I know I probably won’t get everyone to love me the way they do him but maybe but maybe I could be a really good person and then together we'd average out to being two awesome people." Gabe ran his fingers through his hair and took another sip of coffee as he tried to explain.

“I still don’t get it. What is it about him that has you so up in arms?” Tom kept the list folded as he took another drink from his coffee cup.

“I can’t even really explain it. I feel like I know him and I feel like there’s something I’m supposed to do. There’s something I know about him.” Gabe shook his head. He couldn’t explain the dream to Tom, not without making himself look completely insane. “But I won’t be able to do it until I work through all of this. Even I can feel there’s something holding me back.”

"So you think that by apologizing to Stephanie for telling her to fuck off when she tried to tell you that you had a problem, you'll suddenly become a better person and you’ll magically be able to sweep Brendon off his feet?" Tom scanned down the list. As Gabe listened to Tom read, Gabe realized there were points on there that wouldn't necessarily make him a better person, but they'd help.

"I think the fact that I want to do it makes me a better person and if being a better person is what it takes to finally get past this block, then I’ll do it. I should anyway because that was probably the worst thing I’ve ever done. There was a time when I wouldn't listen to her and it just about cost me everything. I could've died. I really, honestly could have and that would've been fucked up because I would've been just a footnote in Drive Thru's history." Gabe stared down at the carpet in the lounge.

"I think you and I have more in common than we realized." Tom let out a small laugh. "Look. Just know this. You're happier, right? You get to dance every night. And you want to get better. It wasn't easy for me, and it won't be easy for you but if Spencer's permission is what it takes for you to do this, I'm behind you. I want to see you get better as much as the next person does. If you need help or anything, I'm here for you."

Gabe looked back up with a curious expression on his face. "You really mean that?"

"I do. Okay, I've been through it. Fuck it, I've done it, okay? I had to tell my parents that I was going to school plastered when I was seventeen. I went through the rock bottom and I'm kind of amazed that I even came through it. I don't want you to lose another band over this. Everyone deserves another chance." Tom's voice was quiet, his tone serious.

An emotion rushed through Gabe he hadn't felt for a long time. He didn't want to let go of it. "Spencer doesn't think this is…"

"Spencer has his own issues with what you do. Did. Okay? He's seen it all firsthand. It's totally normal that he doesn't want Brendon to go through any of that. It's not really my place to say anything else. If you really want to know what's going on with that, you've gotta talk to him." Tom shook his head and took another drink of his coffee. "But I will tell him what I know. You've got my word on that one."

Gabe just nodded in response. He trusted Tom. He could trust him with this. Even as Gabe continued drinking his coffee, he could feel himself getting lighter, feeling freer. He was no longer in this alone.

*

There were easier things to cross off his list. Stop stealing Nate's coffee; Be nicer to Elisa when she gets sensitive about being the only girl on the tour; and Only play horror movies on my laptop in my bunk because Ryland has nightmares.

He stayed out longer with fans because it gave him an excuse to not do any of his old nightly activities. Tom was as good as his word. When everyone was in a hotel for the night, Tom stayed in a room with him and they watched whatever movie happened to be on that night. They chainsmoked pack after pack of cigarettes, just talking and not talking about what they were both missing more than they admitted.

On the hotel nights Tom wanted to spend with Spencer, Gabe took to texting people on his Sidekick. There were plenty of people more than willing to talk to him and keep him from trying to recover any of the numbers he had deleted.

Had he decided to tempt fate, he would’ve looked for Brendon. After their last meeting, which had ended with Brendon shrieking about how Gabe didn’t appreciate pulp in his orange juice and how it was good for you. Sometimes, not often, Gabe wondered what exactly Spencer was telling Brendon about him.

More often than not, he ended up texting Travis, who didn't understand, but was willing to talk to keep Gabe talking.

"This kid must be something, if you're going through all this trouble and you aren't even sure it's going to turn into something." Gabe could tell Travis was smoking in his bathtub at the moment.

"He is, man. I know he is. And even if he wasn't. There's this. I don't even know. I used to dream about him, you know? Those fucked up dreams I had, he was in them. When I met him, it was like I knew right away that he was it. He was that little shit that used to drive me fucking nuts all the time." Gabe sat on the bed, holding the phone to his ear while he clipped his toenails. There was something unnatural about the way they grew so fast.

"No shit. Man, sometimes when you did the wake and bake, you'd tell me about those dreams, you know? I asked you about them once when you slept over but you had no idea what I was talking about." Travis began to laugh his wheezy little laugh. "You told me once that in your dream you told him he wasn't worth the jail time. Guess you must've at least known something about him."

"You're a sick man, Travie. All right, I'll let you go while you smoke. Call if you get bored, I'll be in all night." Gabe hung up and began flipping channels. He'd been at it for a few minutes, aimlessly surfing when he heard a knock on the hotel room door. Anxious for the pizza he'd ordered half an hour earlier, Gabe opened it.

"Hi." Rather than the pizza he'd been hoping for, Spencer and Tom stood outside, Tom looking suitably frustrated.

"You really aren't in Alex's room." Spencer sounded impressed.

"No. Not uh. Not for a while now." Gabe stood at the door of the room, immobile. He had no idea what they wanted, and it hadn't occurred to him they might want in to visit him.

"So. You're just going to stand in the door or are you going to invite us in? The word around our bus is that you know the best place to order pizza from." Spencer nudged Gabe to the side and walked in. Sprawling across the bed as if it were his own, Spencer grabbed the remote and began flipping through channels. "Tom, come on."

And as simple as that, Gabe had Spencer on his side.

*

The very next day, Gabe got a gift he never expected. Brendon approached him with caution. For a moment, Gabe was sure he was dreaming. When he rubbed his eyes and looked again, Brendon was three feet closer. “What are you doing?”

“Hi?” Brendon maintained a distance of four feet. Gabe could respect that; if Brendon had a personal bubble, Gabe could totally respect it.

“Oh, right. Hi. What are you doing?” Gabe shoved his hands in his pocket. If they were out, they were likely to get him in trouble. One of his plans, pre-deleting dealer’s numbers, had been to carry Brendon off to Uruguay, where he didn’t speak the language and would be easily hidden away.

“I don’t even know. Spencer told me to come talk to you. He says we should go out for coffee.” Brendon shrugged, taking an additional step back.

“Coffee? That’s great! I can take you out for coffee! I’m great with picking coffee places!” Gabe was trying to hold back from doing a Toyota jump and hollering to the rest of the tour that Brendon wanted to go out for coffee with him.

“Right. Um. Well, we have coffee in our dressing room. I was thinking we could just grab that and maybe go outside? You can smoke or. Do whatever it is you do.” Brendon adjusted his glasses and seriously, Gabe was going to die from that if he ever did it again.

“Smoke. No! No, being around smoke is bad for your throat. I don’t want to do anything that’ll hurt your performance.” Gabe shook his head and quickly closed the distance between them to lock his hand around Brendon’s wrist. “Come on, we’ll get coffee and go outside, though.”

“Okay?” Brendon sounded completely unsure about their plans.

Gabe concentrated on not being too forward. Too forward included not sticking his hand down the front or back of Brendon’s pants, not giving him an article of clothing, not linking their fingers, and not texting Pete to announce his engagement to Brendon. Those were things that would come with time.

Spencer had sent Brendon to Gabe, he was definitely doing something right. Though his gait was calm and composed, Gabe was dancing on the inside.

*

“So. You’re enjoying this tour?” Brendon seemed to be grasping at things they could talk about. Gabe didn’t want to mention too many of his past experiences, in case they scared Brendon off.

“Yeah, well, it’s nice to be on a tour with so many friendly faces.” Gabe nodded and leaned against the wall. It was taking a lot of concentration to keep his eyes on Brendon’s face and not let them sink any lower.

“That’s good. I don’t know. This tour’s kind of weird for me, you know? It’s like, we’re headlining and I kind of don’t feel like we should be. The album is selling well, which is great, and even though we say we don’t give a shit about people saying we haven’t paid our dues, it feels like we should.” Brendon took a sip of his coffee and sighed over it.

“Maybe it’s where you’re supposed to be. You’re a Mormon, but you believe in fate, right?” Gabe cocked his head curiously. He’d only recently been made aware of Brendon’s upbringing.

“Kind of. It’s. I don’t want to do a theological debate with you, but yeah. I think there’s a reason for everything that happens.” Brendon shrugged slightly.

“I totally believe in fate. I think there’s always a reason for what happens and that where you are is exactly where you’re supposed to be. Right here for example.” Gabe considered making eyes at Brendon but held off on them. Appropriate, he had to be appropriate.

“Here in this moment or here on tour or here in life?”

“All three. You’re supposed to be a musician, you were meant for tour, and we’re supposed to be having this conversation.” Gabe watched as all the blood drained from Brendon’s face.

“Do you ever have déjà vu, Gabe?” Brendon peeled the rim of his coffee cup up. “Lately I feel like everything that I’m doing, I’ve done before. Everything I’m seeing, I’ve seen before. This conversation, we’ve had it before.” That was when recognition hit Brendon’s face and his hands shook to the point he dropped the coffee cup. “You’re. I’m sorry, I have to go now. We have an interview.”

*

Gabe held off on adding the last item to the list. Find a way to make Brendon's adolescence and childhood up to him because you were, no doubt, intimidating as fuck.

The list spanned the majority of two pages and while a lot of things had been crossed off, there were certain ones Gabe had never planned on crossing off because, while he'd made the change, he didn't want to ever forget to keep making up for it.

He called his mother as the tour was drawing to a close. He didn't get an answer but that wasn't unusual. Gabe had taught his mother how to screen calls and not to answer private numbers. "Mama? It's Gabriel. I have some time off for Hanukkah and I was thinking I'd come spend it with you and Papa. Call me back to let me know what you think about that idea. Te quiero, Mama."

After hanging up, Gabe looked at his list. It never left him and he was pleased to see the number of objects on the list left to be crossed off was almost down to nothing. All that was left were the items he refused to cross off and the ones he wished he could.

Brendon still avoided his eyes, even when Gabe brought everyone their coffee. He wasn’t sure what it would take to fix that. Every other day, Gabe would send a movie to the Panic bus through Ryan. It was usually something he thought Brendon would enjoy. Brendon never sent them back and gradually, he started looking at Gabe again. Once, Gabe even thought he caught a hint of a smile.

The second to last show, Spencer approached Gabe after the Cobra set. "Gabe, can I talk to you really quickly?" Since the night in the hotel and Spencer seeing the list, there'd been more open communication between the two of them.

"Yeah, of course." Gabe nodded and followed as Spencer led the way into a back hallway unused by the rest of the crew. "What's up? I already told Ryan I wasn't letting him paint on my face."

For the first time in Gabe's memory, Spencer smiled directly at him. He was fairly certain ninjas weren't allowed to smile like that.

"No. No, that isn't it." Spencer was actually laughing and shaking his head. "No. I wanted to tell you that I think you should go for it tonight. We've got some time off coming up, and you know we'll all be in New York for New Year’s Eve, right?"

Gabe's heart stopped beating for a moment. "You are serious, aren't you? You think I've changed enough."

"I think there was not nearly as much to change as I thought because you have a lot of good in you. And if Brendon brings it out. Look, I don't know what he is to you or anything. I don't know why you seem to think this has to happen but you've. You've shown a lot of dedication to this and he needs that now." Spencer didn't elaborate on his statement and his face indicated he wasn't going to give any more away. "Tonight, after the show. I'll make sure he knows you don't really think Hobbes is imaginary and you know that Vitamin C is good for your immune system. Oh, and that you don’t actually go out of your way to kill caterpillars. You deserve at least that bit of help."

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were warming up to me, Spencer." Gabe folded him in a hug. "And as soon as I've gotten Brendon to fall in love with me, you can teach me your stealthy ninja secrets."

Spencer laughed again and broke the embrace. "Let's go, then."

*

"How am I supposed to make some sort of move? Coffee was a complete fucking disaster" Gabe was pacing the length of the dressing room and staring at his bandmates. They weren't providing any sort of help. Alex was at least attempting, Ryland was just laughing hysterically and suggesting that Gabe just slide his hand into Brendon's pants and give him a friendly hello.

"Maybe you should try talking to him. See if he wants to go out for food or something." Alex placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it. "I mean. Have you even talked to him since you started that stupid list? Other than to get coffee and to get told that you’re a horrible person who probably kicks puppies in their spare time?"

"He didn’t say I kicked puppies and the list isn't stupid! It's my path to a better life! A life with Brendon phone calls, maybe." Gabe looked hurt as he stood. Really, he didn't have to take this. He was leaving.

Outside his door, he ran smack into the object of his affection. "Brendon! You're just who I was looking for."

"Oh, why?" Brendon began backing away from Gabe until he realized he was pressed against the wall. "I don't want to argue more about Hobbes."

"No, no. Spencer and I had a misunderstanding about that. I know that Hobbes is Calvin's best friend and that if he's real to Calvin that doesn't make him any less real to us." Gabe twisted his hands in his hoodie sleeves and looked down at Brendon.

"Okay." Brendon didn't move. He had the look of someone being hunted. “I don’t want to get philosophical, either.”

“No, it’s not that.” Gabe didn’t know how to apologize for what he’d done to Brendon without even knowing. He could never explain attacking Brendon in their dreams. The only explanation he had was that somehow their fates were intertwined, in a way far too big for either one of them to comprehend just yet.

“Okay, so?” Brendon just looked confused. “Oh. Um, thank you for the movies. They’re nice. I mean, it’s nice to have something new to watch.”

“Oh, hey. Don’t worry about them. It’s fine.” Gabe was frustrated at his own inability to speak. All he wanted to do was ask Brendon to go get food with him. It shouldn’t have been this hard. "Um, you know what? Never mind. It's not a big deal." Gabe turned on his heel and began speed walking away from Brendon. He didn't expect to be followed, so it was no surprise when he ended up alone outside the venue. It was almost a welcome moment.

Sitting against the side of the venue, Gabe lit a cigarette and thought. There were the usual avenues. Mixtape, flowers, clothing. None of it seemed right. He wanted this to be different. Brendon had to be so wowed that he would think nothing of saying yes to Gabe and then jumping into his arms for a hot night of making out in a bunk with Gabe's legs dangling out. Okay, maybe not that last part. But it would be nice for Brendon to not be so wary around him. Gabe was so ready for non-wary.

After a moment, Gabe pulled out his phone and looked through his contacts. Selecting Tom's number, Gabe dialed quickly. He waited as the phone connected and Tom's voice came through. "Gabe?"

"Yeah, you want to come out back for a smoke? I want to run an idea by you and then I'm going to need your help." Gabe flicked away the ash that had built up on the end of his cigarette.

Tom appeared at the door almost before Gabe had disconnected the call. They looked at each other. "Spencer told me he told you to make your move tonight."

"Yeah. I kind of want to send Brendon a voicemail. And I want you to let me know if it's a good idea." He stood up and walked closer to Tom. "I want to pick a song and play it on guitar and send it to him. And then ask him if he wants to meet me for hot chocolate when we get to the hotel."

"What song?" Tom shoved a hand into his pocket while he smoked.

"I don't really know. It feels really fucking cheesy to do one of my own songs. And obviously I can't really do one of their songs." Gabe shrugged and looked sheepishly at Tom.

"You really want this to happen. Holy shit." Tom nodded his approval, a small smile tugging at his mouth. "All right. I think you should go with something that appeals to him."

"I know it's kind of lame. Like, really lame. But I was thinking of ‘Nose Over Tail’, you know? It's. There's the really obvious reference to the proving something but. I really think he saved me, even if he doesn't know it yet. Or ‘Blue in the Face.’" Gabe kicked his feet. "They both kind of fit."

"I think when the time comes, you're going to know what song you should sing." Tom's face broke into a full-fledged smile. "I'll make sure he listens to the whole voicemail if you want to leave it while they're on stage."

"Thanks, man. I know I've said it but I really need to say it again." Reaching forward, Gabe wrapped Tom in a large hug. "For everything, really." He tossed away his cigarette and watched as it landed in a puddle in the gutter. He couldn't waste his time smoking anymore -- he had work to do.

The first thing he did was find Elisa, who was busy vamping in front of her computer , taking webcam pictures of herself. Shaking his head, Gabe tapped her shoulder. "'Lisa, I need your help. Do you think you could keytar a song for me?"

The look she shot him gave him his answer, and he slowly backed out of the room. Gabe didn't trust Ryland to not, like, completely ruin the song, so he realized he'd have to do it himself. Acoustic. Which meant he had to find tabs.

Ten minutes later, Gabe strummed his guitar quietly and tried to figure out if this was even possible. Tom was trying to watch him while at the same time trying to seem as if he wasn't watching him. It was going reasonably well. "Okay, I need you to hold the phone close enough to my mouth that he can hear me singing but not so close that he can't hear me playing guitar. I'm not as talented as he is, but I've got fucking soul."

Tom stifled a laugh as he nodded in agreement. "Whatever you say, big man." He dutifully held up the phone as Gabe continued to warm up. It ended up only taking them three tries to get the song onto Brendon's voicemail without Gabe laughing or his fingers slipping on one of the chords. He wanted to do Stevie Wonder the justice he deserved.

"I guess. I guess I wait." Gabe flipped his phone open and closed before grabbing his cigarettes. "Hey, you'll make sure he hears it, right?"

Tom nodded and ushered Gabe out the door. "Relax, man. You won't be any good to Brendon if you have some sort of stroke before he can even hear the message. Go have a cigarette and just, lower your stress or something." Tom practically kicked him out of the room.

*

Gabe sat outside the venue, hidden between the buses and the walls. He'd already made his way through three cigarettes and had sent so many text messages to William that even he was no longer answering them. Fans had been rushing out of the venue and behind the fence for the last half hour.

Just thirty seconds after sending Tom a message that said, "asshole, did he listen to it?" Gabe's phone vibrated and indicated a voicemail waiting for him. As he hadn't missed a call, he tried to think who other than Brendon could be leaving him a voicemail. Gabe almost never left messages on the phone and replying to a voicemail was the only way someone could leave him a message without calling him. His other option was Mama. Gabe didn't want to allow himself to get excited over something that might not even be true, but, as he dialed, his fingers shook so badly that he had to throw away his cigarette.

Punching in his access code, Gabe skipped through his saved voicemails to get to the new one. Throughout his life, he'd never understood when people talked about having their hearts in their throats, but suddenly he understood. Of course his heart had relocated. Other major organs had decided to move north as well. His stomach felt like it might have been fighting with his heart for all the real estate in his throat. He swallowed hard and pressed play for the message. Brendon's voice, always surprisingly deep, came through clear.

He skipped the verses and went straight into the chorus, altering the words Gabe had sang only a short while earlier.

I just called to say I like you
I just called to say how curious I am
I just called to say I like you
And I mean it from the bottom of my heart.

The message ended there and nearby, someone cleared their throat. Gabe nearly dropped his phone in shock when he looked up and Brendon was standing over him. Scrambling to his feet, Gabe brushed himself off and stood in front of Brendon, their knuckles brushing.

“Under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t stand for the butchering of Stevie Wonder’s genius.” Gabe’s hands moved, brushing his fingertips over the back of Brendon’s hands. The featherlight touches left Brendon’s eyes fluttering closed. “I guess I’m just kind of hoping that we can eventually get to the real lyrics.” He stopped the movement of his hands, waiting for a response.

Brendon opened his eyes as if waking from a pleasant dream and smiled.