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"Well, now what?"
Chris looked up from his phone as Vinny dropped himself rather dramatically onto the couch. Truth be told, he'd been asking himself the same question: now what? The touring bassist they'd hired on had just quit―in the middle of the tour no less―and the four of them were at a loss for what to do. They needed a bassist―Chris could play, but he wasn't great at it, and he thought that if he tried to simultaneously play and scream without any practice beforehand, things would derail very quickly.
"That," Ricky said, "is a very good question."
"I'd suggest asking someone else who's already on the tour," Ryan said, "but I doubt that would be too great of an idea."
"Yeah, something tells me no band is gonna want to give up their bassist just so we can have one," Chris sighed.
"Well, we can't just do nothing," Vinny said. "We've got a single travel day to figure it out."
"Anyone we'd ask would have to catch up fast," Ryan said.
"Planes are a thing," Ricky pointed out. "But that is a lot to ask of someone on short notice."
"Who do we even know that could fill in?" Vinny asked.
Chris shook his head. "No idea." His phone lit up with a text notification―it was Justin. Chris felt his heart stutter for a beat or two as he clicked on the notification, tuning out his bandmates' ongoing discussion.
He and Justin had kept in communication since that first meeting. They'd spent a lot of time on that Warped Tour together, and the next one they were both on; off tour, or when touring cycles coincided (very rarely), they'd found ways to meet up as well (despite the fact that Justin lived in California and Chris lived in fucking Pennsylvania). Chris had found himself living for those moments over the last few years―Justin was kind and funny and impossibly sweet, but also brutally honest and brash in a refreshing way. He had an unnerving way of knowing exactly what to say when Chris wasn't in the greatest headspace (he'd had far too many of those days spent with the other band's bassist). Chris had come to depend on him, and Justin had been nothing but reliable and supportive.
In other words, Chris was fairly sure he was in love.
Not that he was really willing to admit that...to anyone, let alone himself, but he couldn't deny that his heart skipped a few beats every time Justin was around. Or, apparently, texting him.
Hey, Justin had texted simply.
Hey, Chris replied. What's up?
Just missing you, Justin responded a few moments later. I need to laugh. You're the best at doing that.
What's wrong? Chris asked, concerned.
The dots that indicated he was typing appeared, disappeared, and then appeared again. Just...having a bit of a hard time.
Well, that's clear as mud, Chris thought but didn't say. You wanna get dinner when we stop tomorrow? We can talk, or I can talk and attempt to make you laugh, or...
He could almost hear Justin's chuckle. Chris, shut up. You know I'm gonna say yes.
Chris smiled. See you tomorrow, then.
"Chris!" The singer looked up, startled. Ricky had an eyebrow raised at him. "Where the fuck did you space off to?"
"Shut up, I'm texting someone," Chris told him.
"Someone?" Vinny's grin instantly made Chris regret saying anything. "Wouldn't happen to be Justin, would it?"
"Shut the fuck up," Chris said, sure he was blushing.
"Stressing his name like that wasn't necessary," Ricky half-scolded, though he was grinning.
"I hate both of you," Chris declared.
"That was the point," Vinny grinned. Chris shook his head.
"Was it Justin, though?" Ryan asked.
Chris sighed. "Yeah. He's apparently having a hard time. Said he misses how I can make him laugh." Chris smiled. "We...may have just made plans to grab dinner when we stop tomorrow."
"Sounds like a date to me," Vinny said.
"It's not a date," Chris denied, glaring halfheartedly at him. "We're just friends, jackass."
"That's what they always say," Vinny smirked.
"Vin," Ricky scolded. "Enough teasing already. He can go on denying it all he wants."
Chris sighed; he could never win this argument. "Can we table the bassist discussion until tomorrow?"
Ryan nodded. "We should all sleep."
Ricky and Vinny murmured assent too, and everyone dispersed back to their bunks. Chris remained on the couch, pulling out his phone again to another message from Justin.
See you then. Looking forward to it :)
Chris smiled and unfolded himself from the couch, following his friends back to the bunks.
"Hello. Earth to Chris."
Chris snapped out of his thoughts, meeting Justin's eyes in a startled sort of way. "Sorry. What were you saying?"
Justin laughed. "Are we gonna go? Before Vin gets out here and starts teasing us?"
Chris grinned. "He seems to think we're going on a date."
"Yeah, right," Justin snorted. "You've told his ass we're just friends, right?"
"Multiple times," Chris replied, trying to ignore the slight pang at Justin's forceful denial that this was anything but a couple friends hanging out together. We really are just friends, shut up. "He refuses to believe it. I think he's just fucking with us."
Justin laughed. "You ready to go?"
"Please," Chris said.
The pair of them set off, dodging fairly easily through the crowd of band members and crewpeople moving in similar directions towards the main city, or heading to set up stages for the next day's performances.
"Where exactly were you thinking of going?" Justin asked.
Chris shrugged. "Didn't get that far. I just wanted to extend the invitation. You said you needed to laugh."
Justin smiled at him. "I did. You've already succeeded in that."
Chris smiled back, hoping to whatever god was listening that he wasn't blushing.
"Should we just wander until we find a good restaurant?" Justin suggested.
Chris shook his head. "I'm vegan, remember?"
"Oh, yeah." Justin narrowed his eyes at him playfully. "Why do you have to be the most difficult person to eat with?"
Chris grinned. "Just to drive you crazy."
"It's working," Justin joked. He pulled out his phone. "Alright, well. I'm sure there's at least one restaurant in this damn city that has things you can eat."
Chris laughed, peering over Justin's shoulder as he did a quick Google search for a restaurant. He pointed to one. "That looks interesting."
"Fourth Street," Justin read. "I guess we better get going."
They set off again, falling into a comfortable silence as they walked. Chris liked that about his relationship with Justin―silences weren't awkward, and it was enough to just be around him. It was the kind of relationship he'd only ever really had with his bandmates before. To Chris, this was a good sign.
"You're getting lost in your head again," Justin noted as they emerged into the main city streets.
Chris smiled at him. "Nothing bad this time, don't worry."
Justin returned the smile, though it faded quickly. "You've been okay up there?" he asked, the real concern in his voice making Chris's heart stumble a beat again.
He nodded. "Yeah. Mostly. I've been stressed more than usual lately, but no breakdowns yet, so for the moment I'm good."
Justin frowned, clearly not buying Chris's lighthearted tone. He didn't say anything else on the matter, but Chris sensed this discussion wasn't over.
Dinner, to Chris's relief, went about as he'd expected it to―lots of teasing and joking, swapping stories of odd fan encounters and crew-member mishaps. Chris had Justin practically doubled over with laughter as he recounted a recent incident involving Ryan, Vinny, and a pool noodle that Ryan had procured from somewhere or other.
"Your friends are fucking weird, man," Justin laughed, gasping as he recovered.
"They're your friends too," Chris pointed out. "What does that make you?"
"What does that make you?" Justin countered, grinning. "You're the one that lives on a bus with them nine months out of the year."
Chris couldn't exactly argue with that. "We know I'm fucked up," he replied. He smirked. "Yet here you are."
Justin rolled his eyes. "Shut up. We've established by now that I'm crazy too."
Chris smiled, a little ruefully. "Less literally, though."
Justin softened. "That's the second time tonight you've brought up your...whatever the fuck it is. Are you okay?"
"Your concern is touching," Chris said, and smiled. "Really. But I'm fine. Like I said, no breakdowns yet, so until that happens I'm going to continue to say I'm fine."
Justin shook his head. "You joke way too lightly about this."
"If I don't joke about it, it'll consume me," Chris replied, his voice quiet. "I can't let that happen, for the band's sake as much as my own. The guys have had to deal with me in varying stages of mentally-not-okay...I don't need it to become my life." He shrugged. "So I joke about it. 'Fuck it, make the best of it', right?" He'd intentionally quoted his own song.
Justin absorbed that for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. That makes sense, I guess."
Chris smiled. "Ready to get out of here? We've got a bit of a walk back to the buses, after all."
Justin sighed dramatically, but grinned. "Yeah, sure. I need a smoke, though, so if you don't mind a quick detour..."
Chris laughed. "Fine by me."
They left the restaurant, the night air cooler than Chris would have expected for all that it was mid-July. He wasn't about to complain, of course, and he knew none of his friends would be either―Ricky and Vinny both complained about the heat on a regular basis.
Justin surprised him by taking his hand and pulling him along; Chris laughed, stumbling only a little as Justin set off before he matched his stride. "Where are you going?" he laughed.
"Nowhere without you," Justin grinned. "Come on."
Chris let himself be pulled along, feeling lighter than he had in weeks; the uncertainty of their bassist situation seemed a lot less pressing when he was with Justin. The man had a habit of distracting him, and Chris wasn't going to say it was entirely unwelcome.
Justin pulled him aside somewhat abruptly, just into the mouth of a comparatively wide, clean alley. He let go of Chris's hand―Chris tried not to mourn the loss of contact and failed miserably―and posted himself against the brick wall of one of the buildings on either side of the alley. Chris watched as he busied himself with lighting a cigarette; he'd long been fascinated by the way Justin moved, fluidly but with clear intention.
"Want one?" he said, offering Chris the pack as he managed to get his lit.
Chris shook his head. "I'm not usually a smoker. That's...everyone else."
Justin laughed and took a drag off his, flipping both pack and lighter closed and returning them to whatever pocket they'd resided in. "Fair enough, I guess." He gestured to the wall beside him. "Join me? We're gonna be here a minute."
Chris smiled and settled against the wall next to him, letting his head fall back against it. They stood there in silence for a moment, the sounds of the city becoming a hum of background noise, the only real sound Justin's exhales, blowing smoke into the sky. Chris sort of wished he could see the stars, but there was too much light pollution.
He supposed it didn't matter anyway. Justin, in his eyes, was prettier than any stars.
"So what's on your mind?" Chris asked eventually, recalling the tone of Justin's texts the previous night.
Justin glanced at him, then shrugged. "Honestly? Things with the band are getting a little rough."
Chris frowned. "What's up?"
Justin shrugged again. "A lot. It's just...not a great environment right now. I needed to get out of my head about it." He smiled. "You're good at doing that."
"Maybe for other people," Chris chuckled wryly. "I'm glad I can help, though."
Justin's smile softened; he looked away for a moment to take another drag, then back at Chris. "So am I. I'm glad we're friends."
Friends. That word kept coming up. Chris was beginning to despise it.
"What's up with you, though?" Justin asked, turning the question back on him. "You're clearly not okay, even if whatever's usually fucked up in your head isn't currently a problem."
Chris sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "We're short a bassist," he admitted. "The one we've been touring with quit unexpectedly like two days ago and we don't have a replacement. And obviously, we have a show tomorrow." He shook his head. "It feels like an impossible situation. We don't have anyone on standby, and none of us know what to do or who to contact. I'm at a loss, but we can't just play without a bassist, at least not without giving the techs some time to prepare the recording of the bass parts―time we don't have." He sighed again, directing his eyes back to the night sky as if the heavens and whatever resided in them could help him. "I don't know what to do."
Justin studied him; Chris could feel his dark gaze roving over his face, but didn't look over, unwilling to meet his stare.
"I could do it."
Now Chris did look over in surprise. "What?"
"I could do it," Justin shrugged. "I could fill in. Clearly I need a little time away from Ice Nine anyway, and they've got a backup on standby in case I couldn't play for whatever reason. I could fill in for you guys for at least the rest of this tour, maybe longer if you can't find someone before your next tour."
Chris's brain seemed to be short-circuiting as he tried to process what Justin was offering. Whoa, okay. I definitely did not expect this.
He wants to work with us? I mean―I'm not surprised that he offered, that's exactly the type of thing he'd do, but...god, okay. I could be touring with him.
"Chris?" Justin peered at him, his cigarette half-forgotten. "You good, man?"
Yeah, sure, except I'm fairly sure you're the hottest guy I've ever seen and despite what I keep denying, Vinny has a point in all his teasing. "Yeah, sorry," he said aloud, hoping his thoughts weren't written all over his face. "I'm fine, just...are you sure?"
Justin nodded. "Absolutely. I'd love to fill in for you guys, if you'll have me."
Set aside your own confusing mess of feelings for a second, dumbass. This could be exactly what the band needs―none of us have exactly been forthcoming with ideas, and we're all friends with him already, so the only thing that would be weird is getting used to living on the same bus.
Chris found himself smiling. "I think that's perfect, actually," he said. "We'd love to work with you."
The way Justin brightened made Chris's heart skip a few more beats. It was clear in the way he relaxed that he'd actually really wanted Chris to say yes.
"Thank you," he said quietly, and Chris caught his gaze, his dark eyes tearing straight through the walls Chris usually kept built around his heart.
Chris nodded, trying to swallow a wave of thoughts he definitely should not be having when he'd essentially just signed Justin on as their touring bassist. "No problem, Justin."
Justin's smile at the way Chris said his name told Chris in no uncertain terms that he was fucked.