matthew
the door opens, but only wide enough for andy to stick his head out, rubbing at his eyes. his fingers curl around the edge, and clive waits for him to step back to allow him in, but the movement never comes. tour means busy schedules, but their nightly routine never changes. empty the bottle, count the tablets, take one, put them back. their countdown from thirty is andy's idea, his
just in case to keep him accountable to himself. "oh, fuck," he breathes, resting his temple against the frame. "i thought i told you? they weren't helping, so i put them down the toilet. s'all sorted, mate."
mark
he pauses again, trying to slow to the pace of the bass line, though it's meant to be the opposite. he sets his sticks on the drum in front of him, his mouth and brow set in similarly straight lines as he exhales slowly. he watches ian twist his instrument out of tune, playing the line again, then once more, and a third time, each progressive series of notes more discordant than the last. three sets of eyes swivel towards andy as he turns. "are we done?" andy asks, and he can feel his breath catch in his throat, waiting for
have we finished mucking about to begin the series of complaints. he sees the corner of ian's mouth twitch in delight, then turn downward the moment andy sets down his guitar. "it's good. let's go."
luke
he pushes the car towards her, shaking his head as she picks it up to hold in her hand rather than rolling it back. his voice gets higher as he tries to talk her into giving it back, her chorus of nos mixed with laughter. he lunges towards her and she shrieks in delight, the good humour continuing as she falls over in her hurry to stand and run away. the door to the back room opens and hands fly into the air, fighting to be the first to play on the human jungle gym. "kate," he calls. "get these fucking kids away from the fucking door. we're trying to have a meeting." the door slams closed behind him.
john
