Romantic, wordy, and a tad goofy.

The Groupie Part 10

His lips mashed against mine violently and his tongue forced its way into my mouth. He released my hands to slip one arm under my neck and cup the side of my face. I clutched and clawed at his back, using my other hand to grab a fistful of hair. Doing so turned him on, I could tell, and I liked turning him on… it gave me a rush beyond the hormones I’d never felt before. He growled into my mouth, and it vibrated throughout my body, kicking me to a higher place. 

Getting off and pulling me up against his body, colliding and kissing and almost tripping over several pieces of furniture, Zane led me somehow to the bedroom while stumbling backwards. At that moment the room was only a flash of dark modern decoration and a large luxurious bed covered in burnt orange colored sheets with gradated colors, as if hand-dyed. 

He stepped away from me right before the bed, turned, and undid his jeans, letting them fall to the ground. Some sound must have escaped me because he looked over his shoulder, smiled, and unexpectedly pulled me forward by my pants while sitting on the edge of the bed in one smooth movement.

Fuck, he was smooth.

“Oof!” I almost fell over him, but steadied myself as he opened my fly, and pushed them and then my boxer briefs down. 

As he pulled me forward and took me into his mouth it was embarrassing to admit, even to myself, that the only blow jobs I’d gotten before were indifferent ones from Mike. 

But Zane wasn’t indifferent. 

He was teasing, playful, and he took a wonderfully excruciatingly long time to let me bump the back of his throat, and to speed up, slowly. A beautiful painting of an abstract face in lovely shades of browns, reds and oranges swam in front of my eyes, and I tried to focus on it. The sensation was like a shot of adrenaline, and the image blurred. I was very worried that I was going to come; very, very soon. 

“Zane…” My voice was choked, and I put my hands on his shoulders, gently pushing back. 

His eyes were bright and lupine when he looked up at me; there was only one bedside lamp on in the room, and the warm light reflected off the brown and green tones of his irises.

He was beautiful, and he was with me. This was it, this was where I could make up for my regrets and sense of inadequacy last time we’d met. Maybe I needed to be more like Scott, fearless and….

“Thinking, bad.” He drew the word ‘thinking’ out and said ‘bad’ with an amusingly sharp finality, and I was laughing when he pulled me down onto the bed on top of him, wrestling me back closer to the headboard. 

“Oof!” I protested unconvincingly as he pulled me to him, kissing me until I was breathless. It was distracting enough that it took a second before I noticed his cock pressed against mine, and moaned into his mouth as he shifted his hips upward, electrifying every nerve. Feeling his smooth, cool skin, his long arms around me, it was incredibly tempting to stay right there, and just grind into him and continue that particular sensation. I wasn’t going to last long that way, however.

“Ethan.” There was a serious note in his voice, and I opened my eyes to look at him.

“I don’t have, mm, supplies here…” his face was very apologetic, and he kissed me gently on the neck, “I’m sorry, we can’t …”

Well, shit. But also, thank god. As much as something in me wanted desperately to be fucked for the first time by Zane(or fuck? God, I put him on such a pedestal, the thought of fucking him was almost alien, but very much hot, and… damn it, thinking again, MUST STOP!), part of me was relieved I wouldn’t embarrass myself in front of him. I caught his lips.

“Okay,” I gave him a wry smile and rested a hand on his chest, “I think I can handle that.” Look at me, all smooth.

His smile was grateful, and he lifted my fingers to kiss them, and bit my thumb playfully.

Randomly I had the silly thought Zane was so fucking sexy, and sweet, I could worship him as he sat on that pedestal. Maybe I should… Maybe, it was time to prove to him I very much wanted him. I didn’t want this just to flash by, and no one could stop that misconception on his part but me.

I started to move downwards, and he lifted his head quizzically.

“What are you..Mmm – Ethan?” I’d licked a nipple while lightly running a hand up his cock, sorely tempted to take a harder grip but resisting.

“You’re incredible,” I said shyly by way of explanation, and before he could say anything I began kissing his neck, his Adams apple, moving my fingers in light circles over his skin as I did so.

I moved to his breastbone, slowly running my tongue across the taut points of his skin. One of his hands settled in my hair, gently messaging, and his fingertips dug into my scalp as I nipped at his flesh and nipples.

I kissed everywhere, enjoying the feeling of his erection brushing against my body as I buried my nose into his chest, moved down to his long legs, running my hands over his smooth skin. His knees were a little bony, and I couldn’t help but kiss each one, causing him to snort in amusement before drawing in his breath as I moved to the inside of his thighs, and to the sac in between. I licked one ball lightly while fondling the other, enjoying the texture and how high and close to his body they were. 

Arching his back in response Zane made a pleased noise, now leaning on his elbows, as if he was watching me. I pushed that out of my mind, knowing it made me very self conscious. I needed to concentrate on HIM.

He smelled good, clean, and a little musty, the smell of new, clean sweat. I could become drunk on that smell. Maybe I was now, moving on from alcohol intoxication to new stimulants.

I kissed up his hard erection back up his stomach, running my hand around the light hair, noting that he obviously took care of it… it was short, and all the same length. It fit him, his sleek cleanliness, something he obviously put effort into. 

I could spend all day right there.

I moved back up and he put his arms around me, but before I let him draw me back down I couldn’t resist leaning in and giving the length of the bridge of his nose a long, wet lick. He started laughing, running his fingers down my back and settling to squeeze my ass.


“Beautiful nose?” He chuckled, his face flush.

“Very,” I replied, embarrassed that I was now blushing and thus blushing more.

“Ethan, Ethan…” Suddenly I was underneath him, his long legs trapping mine, and the strength with which he kissed me and held me down seemed to show that was a good response. 

Whatever noise I made at him was nonsensical, but I don’t think it mattered.


Hey, I thought to myself bemusedly, I think you’re finally completely sober. Truthfully, I probably sweat it all out.

Neither of us had lasted long, 69ing until we came. I like 69, I thought sleepily. I like Zane… I wasn’t thinking very straight. 

We were splayed out with our limbs entangled. My natural sleeping position was actually fairly compacted and folded, but I enjoyed where our bodies touched, and didn’t want to break the contact. I no longer felt gross; we were both sweaty now. 

Zane’d gotten up right afterwards to get us some water and I’d admired the view. His self-confidence was so unforced and almost… elegant. I envied him. 

He’d turned off the lights, put the water down and then fallen on to the bed on top of me, causing me to laugh breathlessly until he rolled over on his side.

It was quiet for a bit – I felt shy again, my mind still in a foggy haze as I gazed at the glow of the lamp in the living room – and was sure he must have fallen asleep. I was about to power myself down before my damn insecurities broke through my contentment when he shifted and suddenly his lips were right next to my ear. 

“How long will you stay for?” My pulse shot up a couple of dozen BPM. That voice. It vibrated until I could feel it in my toes. 

Ideally? As long as you want me and until you’re done, handsome. I was so fucking screwed; my obsession was really going to rekindle its sorry flame now. Ah, well, it was worth it.

 I squinted at the tastefully sleek digital metal clock on the dresser across from the bed. It was 1:00 AM.

“Um…” I calculated in my head quickly. “Scott and I are working at 2:00, we’ll need to go home first, and it takes 4 and a half hours to get back… probably no later than 6, 6:30.” Something hit me, a possible alternative shading to his question. “But, seriously, I can head out now if it’s better, and –OW!” He had nipped the bottom of my ear for an effective jolt of pain.

“Shut up. No. I would have asked you to leave if I wanted you to leave,” His tone spoke of the subject being closed, “You really are a human radiator.” A long arm slid around my chest and got a good grip. His body was smooth and cool, and I pulled myself closer, lending him my heat. 

I was getting turned on again. I coughed a little. “So, um, where do you go from here? New York, right? And Europe?” 

“Yes… New York, and then London, and then around the continent and back to England again. And then Japan and then England again for the Reading Festival,” He laughed, “They like us in England.” 

“That’s cool. I’m envious… I’ve always wanted to go.” 

He lifted his head a bit. “You’ve never been?” His voice sounded truly surprised, and at first I was a little bit offended; I already knew I was an uncultured broke-as-hell loser, thank you very much. 

But, then again, he did have the air of the type of person to whom going overseas regularly was just something you DID. He lounged easily in the Stafford Hotel, he had friends with exceptionally nice condos in downtown Chicago; what was normal was different for everyone, I guess. I’d read somewhere that he’d grown up in California and Seattle. 

“No, not really…” I thought about junior year. “I had a chance once, but it would have cost too much money, and wasn’t much of a pleasure trip in any case.” Talking about me made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t a very interesting person. “Do you ever get tired? All this hopping around? Traveling to different cities?” I had some hermiting tendencies, and it sounded overwhelming. 

“Mmmm, yeah, sometimes. Sometimes all the time,” There was a smile in his voice. “But it’s also wonderful. New places, new people, new food. Sometimes you’re eating in a 5 star restaurant, and sometimes some stranger takes you out to an opium den for duck. It did seem easier at 22 than it is now at 27, though.”

“Opium duck…” I pondered that thoughtfully, “I think there’s a market for that.” and let out an undignified involuntarily snort when he poked me in the ribs.

“I was exaggerating, and you’re strange,” he paused for a second. “Although I believe Rick and Jarod might have tried that one. But it does get harder. I feel older.” 

“Oh, yeah, you’re just ancient. Hey!” He’d poked me again with a snort. Jarod. He was the bassist, I remember him vaguely from being very fucked up the first time I saw Snowborne. “Do you, mmm, get along with your bandmates?” 

There was silence, thoughtful. “Yes. We’re all professionals. Even Jarod, when he’s not overdoing it. We’re not the best of friends, but perhaps that’s a good thing. Love tends to make the most intense type of loathing.” He said that almost wistfully, as if from experience. Thinking of my mother and certain periods of our relationship, I could certainly relate. “I like Dustin quite a bit as a mate, though; he’s odd, but thoughtful. He listens, always has something interesting to say.”

”In what way?”

“Well, he’s…” he stopped, laughed, and pulled me towards him. “Stop that. Sleep now.” He gave my hair a scrunch. “Good night.”

It took about 2.2 seconds for his breathing to fall into a regular pattern and I sighed, jealous. I’d give body parts to be able to fall asleep that fast.

My eyes found the glow of the city through the windows. Maybe I wasn’t sleeping because there was a hyperventilating voice inside my head in shock that he was sleeping, naked, next to me. His arm was draped over my stomach. This wasn’t my ideal sleeping position, but there was no way I was going to move. I tried to mentally walk other paths. 

Sheep, flying pigs, paint strokes on the wall… 

‘Stop that’… hmmm. He didn’t like to talk about himself. Was that always the way he was, or, was it me? You don’t usually want to tell your life story to drive-by fucks, do you?

Oh, YOU stop it now, I chided myself gently, and before I could argue back I was blissfully asleep. 


My internal clock woke up later than it should have, at 6:45, and I had to clamp down on my instinctual desire to shoot up and rush around like a headless chicken. 

I looked down at Zane, who was sleeping soundly; he looked young, and beautiful. 

He’d also managed to somehow take over most of the bed, endless legs and arms thrown everywhere. In an unconscious response to him I’d curled up on the edge of my side of the bed.

Moving as stealthily as possible I slipped into the bathroom – beautiful dark surfaces and red accents and towels – and after some stumbling around I got into the shower. I hoped it was okay, as it wasn’t my house and I hadn’t asked, but I felt pretty damn gross overall. 

Slowly, as the lukewarm water cascaded down my skin, I started to wake up. Last night rattled through my brain, the feeling of his skin, his cock, and his lips. . I poked at the emotions, and what I had feared would be so was so: My head was filled with him. Somehow I think I had hoped that one of the reasons I became so fixated on him was because I hadn’t gone through with much of anything; sexual regret, if you will. But I was as obsessed as ever.

Having a taste of him simply made me more helplessly – riddled with lust? Here I was, just thinking about him, and getting hard.

As my fingers started to wrinkle and it hit me I was wasting time damn near dozing off in the shower with my lazy neurotic navel-gazing, I formulated a goal. It was a simple one.

I was going to get out of here gracefully. I would give him a little kiss, thank him for inviting me back to this incredible place, thank him for letting me fuck around with him, and get my ass back to Scott and Mina before I babbled, hemmed, hawed, and screwed the whole aura up. 

I stepped out of the shower clean and at least half-awake. Attempting to not drip all over the lovely tiles and failing, I made it to the clean towels on the wall next to the door.

At that moment I came face to face with Zane, who was standing in the doorway looking amused. His hair was everywhere and his face still lined with sleep, but he was also naked, with a morning hard-on and that same casual confidence.

I tried to focus on my goal as he kindly handed me a towel, since I had stopped dead mid-motion and was now making a mess. 

“Good morning,” He said with a small smile, and yawned. “Mind if I piss?”

“Uh, no, go ahead,” I said, and turned around to dry off as he did. Starring at him could very easily lead to getting turned on again, and damn it, that wasn’t in my game plan. Scott was going to MURDER me. He’d a fine history of being late to work, and he couldn’t afford another black mark for at least a month or two. 

“Are you leaving?” He asked, and I put the towel around my waist and turned to look at him, hair still very wet. 

“Um, yes,” I smiled ruefully. “I’m probably in trouble already.” 

He tilted his head. “You should have waited for me,” his eyes crinkled and his expression became amused, “I would have showered with you.”

My cheeks burned, and I fought a beginning erection in vain. I danced away from the subject. “Um, I didn’t want to wake you. I hope its okay that I used the shower…”

“Of course it is.” He dismissed it with a shrug. There was a pause, a silence, and I smiled weakly and left the bathroom to gather up my clothing. Putting on my dirty clothes caused me to shudder. I stuffed my boxers in a pocket, and peeked at how much I had in my wallet – that cab ride last night had been an unexpected hit. I called Scott, who had called my cell about 5 times since 5:30 am, and he was not happy.

“Where ARE you? We’ve got to go, or I’m totally fucked! We’ve been sitting in a Dunkin Donuts for an hour! ” He sounded even more stressed than I’d expected. His voice suggested a more general pissiness than just worried about being late. 

“I’m really sorry; I forgot to set my phone alarm…” I gave him the address, and he tersely told me they were about 5 minutes away before hanging up. 

“He’s angry?” Zane said conversationally as he came into the rooms in his jeans, eyes sympathetic.

“Yeah, but he’s every right to be,” I had to smile, “Being late is his job, not mine.” Zane chuckled.

I was uncomfortable and completely unsure what someone said in situations like this. 

I walked out to the main room, and Zane followed me. 

“Thanks for actually coming over last night,” He said with a smile, “Didn’t think you would.” 

“I’m – glad I did,” I said, embarrassed. “Thanks for inviting me.” This wasn’t unlike thanking someone for them having you over for dinner, I thought wryly. “This place is beautiful.” 

“Mm, yes,” He leaned against the wall as I put on my shoes, watching me in that intense way of his as there was another one of those painful pauses. My mind was frozen in the moment, gummed up with all the things I wanted to say but didn’t seem able to. His abs were also still endlessly fascinating to me, and I didn’t have the time to stare at them right now.

“I’d also felt pretty bad about the last time,” He broke the silence, and it took me a moment to connect the comment to our conversation the night before, “I’m glad I got a chance to spend some more time with you. Thanks for the picture, by the way; it’s very good.”

Picture? That took me even longer to connect to the meaning, and when I remembered the silly little sketch I had done for him I turned bright red. “Oh, yeah, that… sorry, that was dumb, just, I.” My voice tapered off. 

He lifted an eyebrow at me. “I’m complimenting you, boy. It wasn’t dumb at all,” When I straightened up he touched my arm, and as I turned to him questioningly he gave me a lingering kiss on my lips, lightly nibbling at my bottom lip and then brushing it gently with his thumb. “You’re a strange one, Ethan.” He said with a thoughtful sigh. When he broke the contact and stepped back my whole being transmitted a disappointed sigh to my brain, and one of my hands only very slowly left his chest, keeping contact down to the last fingertip until he was out of range.

“I know, I’m sor…” I cut myself off and focused on the positive. “Thanks again,” I took what I figured was my last in-person close-up of his lupine, beautiful face and those almost frighteningly intelligent eyes. “I had a lot of fun last night.”

“Good. What’s your email address?”

I tilted my head at him, a bit confused at the change of subject but my heart thumping. I looked around for pen and paper.

“Don’t worry about it, just tell me. I’ll remember it.” My heart stuttered. Yeah, I’m sure. He really was just being polite, but it was nice of him to try.

“Uh, Ethan.Moe at Gmail dot com?” 


“Moeller.” I said almost apologetically. 

He smiled. “Got it.”

“So…. Thanks again.” I was trying to back out the door while saying this, memorizing his features as well as I could, almost tripped over my own feet, and gave him one last little smile as I jabbed at the elevator button.

“Bye, Ethan.” Zane said quietly from the doorway. The sun was coming up with a vengeance behind him, and he was mostly silhouette, lanky lines and spiky hair.

”Bye,” I said with a goofy nod and almost threw myself into the elevator when the doors whisked open. I leaned against the wall and let my head thunk backwards, looking at the gleaming ceiling. 

I was sure he was very glad to have me out of his hair. But I was very happy to have touched that hair.

And that’s all, I told myself, that truly mattered.


“What were you doing, going for another round?” Scott said coldly, and I looked at him in surprise. Bitchy was not his usual style, the only time he was bitchy was when he was – ah, yes. When he was frustrated. I looked at Mina, and she looked hung over and grouchy, sitting in the back seat with a huge water and sunglasses. 

These two were going to be fun.

“Um, no. I woke up late,” I apologized. 

“Whatever. Get in.” 

45 quiet minutes later Mina had to pee, and Scott and I waited by the car.

“So…” I started, but he interrupted me. 

“You have a good time last night?” He asked shortly, not even looking at me, staring mindlessly through his sunglasses at the other motorists trundling to and from the rest stop.

“Uh, yeah,” I said, “Yeah, I did.” 

“You fuck?” 

I rolled my eyes. “Not completely, no.”

“But close enough?” He finally looked at me, peering over his sunglasses with a small smile. “Not like I want any gay details, or anything.”

“Yeah,” I said laughing. “Yeah, it was good.” 

“Cool.” Silence. 

“You? Things seem… interesting.” It was a poor attempt at being diplomatic.

He sighed, and took off his glasses. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it. She … got all freaky on me, you know, and then… she fell asleep.” 

I looked at him through narrowed eyes.

“No! NO no no,” He waved his hands defensively. “That’s not even why I’m pissed at her, and I sure as hell didn’t touch her,” He pinched the bridge of his nose with a wince. “But she was a grade a Bee-yotch this morning when she woke up, basically telling me it’s all a fucking mistake. And then stopped talking, and we’ve been communicating in grunts ever since.”

“She’s really, really hung over, man,” I ventured, fairly sympathetic towards her. I’d been in a very similar position not too long ago. “And she’s probably pretty embarrassed being so drunk. Also, you two have a weird relationship anyways.” 

“Yeah,” He sighed. “Yeah, you bet your gay ass we do. It’d just be nice if it wasn’t so weird, ya’ know?” 

“Takes Time.” I ignored the ‘gay ass’ comment. If I knew Scott, I’d be putting up with that for a while. 

“Maybe. Hope springs fuckin’ eternal.” He stood up straight, and I turned to see Mina coming back towards us, three waters in hand and looking a bit better.

“You okay?” Scott asked, and she nodded and handed him a water. 

“I’ll live, maybe.” They smiled at each other, hers a bit apologetic, and Scott looked happy again. He’s so totally screwed, I thought with amusement. 

The ride back was a lot more pleasant, although renewed spirits in Mina meant question after question. At a couple of points Scott was very much “Oh, god don’t ask him THAT.” but she ignored him.

“So… you’re not, like, like, all mopey again, are you?” she asked, leaning forward towards the front seat. “This was good, right?”

“It was good…”

“…But you’re a little bit mopey.” 

“Because he didn’t get fucked,” Scott put in conversationally, and I smacked his arm. “Driver here, man, driver!”

“No, just. It was a one time thing, and I’ll never get the chance again,” I’d not told them about the email address; it sounded sorta sad, and I didn’t want their half-hearted ‘oh, maybe he’ll email you next time they’re in town!’ or something equally pitying. I smiled. “And I think too much.”

“You said that last time, the never having a chance again part,” Mina pointed out. “And look how well that turned out.”

“But you definitely do think too much,” Scott said, “WHOA! Check that car accident out!” 

The conversation drifted after that, Mina and I fell asleep, and Scott, thank god, didn’t.


The next few days were uneventful, and my mom was almost apologetic for being so unhappy before I left. She even let me make her dinner, and didn’t throw anything across the table at me when I suggested she consider moving from the area, try somewhere with better teaching opportunities.

Brian, who I emailed instantly, was very warm and friendly, surprisingly so. He seemed to truly be interested in what happened, but also made it clear he didn’t take it personally. And also, even if I wasn’t that into him at the moment, all suggested invitations were still open.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Rather guilty.

I was ashamed that I checked my email constantly for a couple of days, but couldn’t help myself. I did finally give up doing it every five or 10 minutes when I caught myself constantly borrowing Scott’s phone at work to use his data capabilities. 

“You are a spazz, boy! Give me that!” He yanked it out of my hand and rolled his eyes at me before stalking back to work. “Shit, that must have been one hell of a blow job.”

So instead I moved to checking every hour or so.

But I also had a run of good nights at work, made some incredible tips, and got told by one older woman that I was a handsome young man who “glowed”. It wasn’t a bad week.

I had pure regret that I hadn’t invited him to take a shower with me, and often worried what I could have done differently, but what was the use? 

As Scott kept ‘reminding’ me. 

“OW!” I said, as he smacked the back of my head coming out of the kitchen three days after our trip, when all I was doing was taking a second to stare into space. “Will you STOP that?”

“Not until you stop spacin’ out, bro, not ‘til you stop spacin’ out.” 


“Have you drawn any pornographic pictures?” Mina asked conversationally as we were all sacked out in front of the TV the following weekend. “I mean, of Zane. And if so….” 

We were all astoundingly broke, and paying for our trip and debauchery (free drinks doesn’t mean you don’t have to tip) with a weekend of carefully budgeted sloth at Mina’s house. My house didn’t have the room and Scott’s family was big into getting overly involved in any visitations, so we’d found her’s the best place to hang. We’d been friends before, but never this close, so it was still a novel situation and thus not yet a status quo for her to be very sick of.

“…No.” Not STRICTLY true. Pornographic, no…. “And I wouldn’t show them to you.”

“Perv.” Scott added. She stuck her tongue out at him, he raised his eyebrows at her, and I again wondered what these two were on about. I’d initially wanted them together more than anything, sure they had a great chemistry, and them getting together would be great, but they were proving themselves squirrelly.

“What we gonna watch tonight?” Scott asked, getting up to grab another Coke. “TV’s a wasteland on Fridays.” 

“We could pay for a movie from cable,” Mina suggested, “My parents don’t mind, as long as I’m not doing all-day marathons.”

“Oooo,” Scott said excitedly, eyes wide as he flung himself on the couch, “I REALLY want to see that action flick, wait, what was it…”

When he said the name of the movie Mina practically puked on him in aversion. “NO!” She said, shaking her head, “That looked so bad it went beyond “bad but good in a bad way” to pure shit. No no no.”

“Ethan…” He looked at me with pleading green eyes and a puppy-dog pout. It was times like this I suspected he had always known subconsciously that I was gay, as I never could say no when he turned on the eyes. So he used the eyes often.

“Ummm… Is it really supposed to be that bad?” I equivocated. 

“It sounded DIGUSTING,” Mina insisted. 

“It sounded fucking incredible,” Scott argued, and turned to me again. I was starting to vaguely remember the movie he was talking about, and it had looked pretty wretched. 

“I’m looking online,” I said, getting up and moving towards Mina’s mom’s computer, which was in the living room. I knew Scott would win if we didn’t bring in outside help. “And I’ll throw out some of the reviews.”

Scott snorted. “Reviews are for the weak.” He grouched, and then grinned at me. “And the gay. Shit, girl!” Mina had got him good and hard for that one. “He just wants to check his email, don’t buy his lies!”

Actually, I hadn’t, honestly. But, hell, since he had brought it up…

I pulled up my web mail almost as an afterthought while also pulling up rotten tomatoes dot com, letting them both load on different browser tabs. Mina and Scott were squealing and probably molesting each other in their weird flirtatious way, so I checked my two messages, expecting spam.

A full 2 minutes later there was silence from the couch, and then Mina spoke up.

“Um, Ethan? Reviews?” 

I think I croaked something that didn’t come out as an actual word.

“Something up?” Scott said in alarm, standing up on one leg to look over the back of the couch at me, while Mina propped her chin on the cushions. I stared at them, and then at the computer screen, and then at them again.

“Those are some scary baby blues,” Mina sounded worried now. “What’s up, is everything okay? What happened?”

“I…” I coughed, and found my voice. “I’ve been invited to Europe. Zane… invited me to go to Europe with him. And, um, his band. Yeah.” 

“In, like, 3 days.”

They stared at me, dumbstruck.




To Part 11