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busy when you’re over there. But hey, absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?”
    Smiling at what I just said, I sit at the edge of my bed, putting my sneakers on. He lets out a sigh.
    “Yeah, you’re right . . . but I’m going to miss you so much and when I get back, you’re going to start touring. I’ve never gone through anything like that with you yet, and it’s going to be so hard.”
    I feel bad for him now. My smile fades and all I can think of is my boyfriend back home, without me for four to five months. We’re not only doing the U.S. this tour, we’re also doing Europe.
    “Oh, I know, babe. Maybe your work will set something up again when I’m over in Europe. You’re always going over there. We can meet up if you do.”
    “Yeah, they probably would. I swear, sometimes it might be easier if I purchased a flat over here or something. Something of my own, you know? After all, I’m over here three to five times a year.”
    “Yeah, that sounds cool.”
    We chat for a few more minutes then we let each other go. I tell him again that I’m going to miss him and ask him to be safe, and he does the same with me. After I’m done with Benny’s call, I pick up my purse and head out, setting the alarm code on the wall before I leave.
    It takes me twenty minutes to get to Roger and Jared’s place. They live right down the road from me, and anywhere besides LA, the drive would only take a minute or two. As I pull into their narrow driveway, I notice Matt and Jeff are already here. Sweet!
    I shift back into first gear before shutting my girl off. Yes, my girl. I don’t care if people think I’m weird for talking about my car like she’s a person, because to me, she is just as important.
    Before I even get to the front door, I hear the familiar noises of loud music and guys laughing. I don’t bother to ring the bell; I just let myself in.
    This space is very open, with the living area off to the left, kitchen straight ahead, and dining area to the right. They also have a catwalk you can see when you come in that crosses over the entire first floor and leads to the guys’ bedrooms.
    It’s a nice place, newly built. Looking over to the dining area, there is a collage of black pictures in frames of various sizes, popping out against the white walls. They’re all of Cory. Some are from back in our college days goofing around at bar gigs, and some are of our first tour. My favorite is the behind-the-scenes candid shot Gage did of us back when we were recording our first album. It’s a close up of Cory, looking down and playing his guitar with the biggest smile on his face, just enjoying everything around him.
    “What up?”
    Jeff comes striding over with a beer in his hand and gives me a one-armed hug. He must’ve just smoked a joint because his eyes are red and squinty. He has long, dark hair. It’s not as long as Roger’s, but it almost reaches his shoulders. I love how he always wears a folded down gray bandana with a hat on. Not like Bret Michaels, more like how Synyster Gates used to wear his.
    “Hey, you.” I tap down the front of his hat and smile at him. I notice Jared sitting there on the couch, trying to figure out the TV again. They have this huge, black leather sectional. It’s pretty much the only furniture they have in the living room area.
    “What’s wrong this time, Jared?” I ask as I take a seat beside him.
    “Oh, nothing, really. My DVD is so old that it’s not reading right in the DVD player.”
    He keeps fumbling with the remote, pressing stop and then skip, and then back to stop again. I place my purse beside me and look forward at the TV.
    “What movie is giving you such a hard time?” I ask, laughing at him.
    “‘Slap Shot’. Since this is hockey season and the Wings aren’t playing tonight, I wanted to kind of keep a theme.” He turns to me and gives me a little smirk.
    “Oh, I see.”
    I rub my palms up and down on top of my thighs and look around. Roger is in