“Wake up,” Trevor said, shaking the entire bed. “We were supposed to be at the studio an hour ago.”

I never should’ve given him a key to my place. “Who decided that?”

He shrugged. “Somebody.”

“Not us, that’s for sure.” We’d handed over our lives and had no more need to make decisions about anything. Anything. Clothes appeared out of nowhere from a magical being called a stylist. The music I wrote was stripped of every bit of me in it and turned into things I didn’t recognize anymore but would appeal to promoters and prospective labels.

What we’d done with our time during the tour had been decided by Doug. And since that so-called free time was scheduled weeks in advance and was almost too short to even be called time, I usually spent my free time holed up in bed with my dog, trying to remember when I had control over my life.

“Quit bitching, you little bitch.” Trevor climbed up onto the bed and started jumping up and down like a kid whose mom wasn’t around.

Kitty grumbled at him and hopped off the bed. I grumbled at him, too, and curled up so my slightly hefty best friend wouldn’t land on one of my legs and break it.

“Go away, Trev! I’m in a shitty mood.”

“No shit.” He bounced again. “Come on, man! You have what we’ve always wanted. What everyone’s always wanted.”

What I had never wanted.

“I have never hated you more than at this exact moment.” But I would go to the studio and write what the music people expected me to write and act the way people expected me to act and hope for only three things:

That my best friend wouldn’t try to off himself again.

That I could find a way out of a life I never wanted without hurting all the people counting on the band’s success.

And that Sara would call and give me a fucking chance. Hell, at this point, I’d be happy with another night like the last.

Except this time, I’d been the one to walk away from her. Any other man would’ve jumped at a beautiful woman’s offer of no strings or emotion sex. Hell, before I’d met her, I probably would’ve jumped at the offer, too.

But she was just screwed up enough to make her irresistible to my screwed-up side. She wore her pain so transparently, as if she were screaming for help but could never, ever bring herself to ask for it. How could I sleep with her and pretend it wasn’t there? Pretend I didn’t care she was hurting?

I climbed out of bed just in time. Trevor’s foot got caught in the sheet, and he face-planted right where I’d just been, letting out a wail that startled Kitty. She jumped on top of him, barking.

“Shit.” If anyone heard her bark, they might tell my landlord. “Tell her you’re okay, Trev. Come on, lie.”

He rolled over onto his back and reached out to ruffle the fur on her head. “It’s okay, baby. I’m fine. But your dad is so mean.” He raised the pitch of his voice until Kitty was almost the only one who could hear it. “Isn’t he? Isn’t he?”

I stepped backwards when her tail started wagging violently. She could knock over a grown man with that thing when it really got going. I wandered into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

“I’m not a bad guy, am I?” I called into the bedroom. “I’m a good guy, right?”

“Yeah, you’re great, aside from your poor taste in women.” Then he raised the pitch of his voice again. “Except you, of course. You’re a good girl. Aren’t you? Yes, you are.”

I stepped under the stream of hot water and closed my eyes, pushing my hair back so the drops fell directly on my face.

I heard Trevor come into the bathroom. “Why are you feeling so existential this morning? Usually, you don’t start questioning your ethical decision-making until after lunch.”

“Our mornings are after lunch.”

“May it always remain so,” he said with fake solemnity. “Mornings are for farmers and boring people.”

“Too bad your brain doesn’t kick in until mid-afternoon.”

“At the earliest.” He laughed.

The cold hit me as soon as he opened the glass door.

“Hurry up! We gotta get going.”

“Geez, man! Get the fuck out of my shower!”

“Just making sure you weren’t thinking of that girl and cuddling with your mutt in here. We don’t have time for that.” Thankfully, he kept his eyes on my face.

We’d been friends forever, so I was well aware that he lacked a proper understanding of privacy or the limits of friendship.

“I’d be out quicker if you’d quit perving on me!” I shoved him back and slid the door shut.

“Seriously, man. Hurry. It’s Friday. We gotta finish at the studio by two thirty, or I’ll be late for an appointment with my shrink. Speaking of shrinks and shrinkage...” He opened the shower door just enough to stick his hand through and make a big show of pointing down. “I think your boys would be happy in warmer water.”

“Appreciate the concern, but my balls are just fine. Thanks.” Even though he was obviously joking, I covered my junk with one hand as I slid the door shut with the other.

Trev squealed when the metal frame smashed into his fingers, even though there was no way it had hit that hard.

I gasped. “Oh shit! Did I just break the hand you make love to?”

“No, thank God,” he said seriously. “Although, you bring up a scary point—what would I do if my fingers were really damaged? Provided I don’t mention masturbation and just focus on not being able to play guitar without my hand, I wonder if an insurance company will insure her.”

“Worth a try, I guess.” I wiped the water from my eyes and opened them. “Wait, did you just call your hand her?”

“Duh. I’m not gay, Dec.”

“How much would I regret asking what you called your other hand?”

“Probably a fair amount.” His voice came from over by the vanity. “Especially because, after I told you, I’d probably make a sad joke about the only threesome I’ve ever had.”

“Glad I didn’t ask, then. You know actual threesomes are overrated, though, right?”

“It all has to do with expectations, my friend. I’ve always tried to set my expectations and my standards equally low. That way I’m rarely disappointed.”

“That’s something you may want to bring up at your appointment today.” I felt my cheek, wondering if I should bother shaving. Nah, we were already running late. “If you want to help me get ready faster, go feed my dog.”

“Should I pack up a lunch for you, too?” he said, slamming the bathroom door behind him as he finally left. Then I heard his muffled, “Come on, dawg. What’s your dad got to eat around here?”

I finished rinsing off, stood under the hot water for one more minute, and shut it off. Then, grabbing a towel to dry off with as I walked, I headed towards the small walk-in closet.

“Yes,” he said from the bedroom. “Yes, you’re a good guy. Always have been. So, why are you suddenly worried you’re not?”

I did up my jeans and slipped a T-shirt over my head. “That girl. Sara. She’s making me think about shit and re-evaluate how I treat people.”

“Better dump her quick, then. If she can’t tell what a catch you are she’s not worth the trouble. Honestly, if you didn’t have a dick, I’d take you like that.” He snapped his fingers.

I laughed at the irony as I came out of the closet. “Damn that whole penis thing. Even knowing how low your standards are, I appreciate you saying that, my friend. Makes me feel a lot better about getting rejected again the other night.”

He whistled through his teeth. “A woman rejects Declan Hollis, lead singer of the Self Defense, not once but twice? Never thought I’d see the day. I’m sorry, buddy.” He put his hand on my shoulder.

“Thanks?” I said, knowing how insincere that was.

“But I’m liking this chick more and more,” he said, his smile already up and running. “She may be shit for your self-esteem, but she’s making me feel a lot better about myself.”

“Dude!” I smacked his hand off and stood. “It’s not a joke. I really like her. It’s been a long time since I liked someone this much.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.” This time, he actually looked like he meant it. “I’m just not used to being the one of us who has to comfort the other after a rejection. It’s awkward as hell, isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah.” After slipping on my shoes, I went into the kitchen to find something to eat and to make sure Trevor fed Kitty her expensive dog food instead of Cheerios. Again.

“Next time I get shot down,” he said, following me, “you have my permission to sic my miserable ass on Pete or Sam.”

I tried to keep my tone serious but lost it before I even started speaking. “What about all the times after the next one?”

When Trevor shoved me in the back of my shoulder, knocking me a step forward, all Kitty did was look up from her bowl with a brief glare of annoyance. “The fact that lame joke actually made sense is why I can’t miss the one-and-possibly-only opportunity I may ever get to tease you about a woman.”

The difference was that Trev never actually cared about any of the women he tried to pick up. So, five minutes after they brushed him off, he’d already moved on. And the truth was, even though we both kidded about his horrible luck, his dry spells never actually lasted very long.

“Fine,” I said, grabbing a protein bar out of the cupboard and heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth. “You can be as big a tease as you want to. I can take it.”

No matter how many bad jokes he made at my expense, they didn’t make me feel any worse than I did walking away from Sara.

“Seriously, though.” He leaned up against the doorjamb and watched me brush for a second. “Was she really that good of a lay?”

“Oh yeah.” Not sure how much he could understand while I was foaming at the mouth, but he seemed to catch my meaning. “But that’s not why I want to…” What did I want to from her? For her?

“Why are you letting some screwed-up girl get into your head like this? If you want something long-term, there are plenty of women who’d love to love Declan Hollis forever and ever and ever.” He did a terrible impression of a girlie wiggle. “Besides—and this may come as a surprise to you—you’re not your dad. You don’t get paid three hundred bucks an hour to deal with other people’s shit.”

I waited until I’d rinsed before speaking. “Four hundred.”

“Jesus, four hundred an hour? I still hate thinking about the hundred and twenty my quack gets for listening to me bitch. What does your dad do for that extra”—he looked up and squinted to figure out the math—“two hundred and eighty bucks? Shit, that’s one forty per ear! He must have incredible hearing.”

“Only if you’re paying him.” When it came to family, my father was practically deaf. He’d missed eighteen years of clues that I had no interest in following in his footprints. Then, for the two minutes between sitting him down and telling him I wanted to be a songwriter, he’d finally heard me. He’d been so ashamed of my decision to go on tour instead of college, you’d have thought I’d confessed to murder.

“You don’t always have to be the one to save people, Dec. Even your dad can’t help people who don’t want to be helped.”

But Sara did. I knew it. She wanted it but couldn’t ask. And, yeah, I wasn’t a shrink to the rich and famous, but I also wasn’t the kind of guy who ignored a stray dog or crossed the street to avoid a homeless person. Everyone had shit to deal with, but once I understood how much it was holding them back from living, I couldn’t move on. Even if it ended up hurting me, too.

I said a quick goodbye to Kitty, made sure she had a fresh bowl of water, and shooed Trevor out the door so I could lock up.

“Can’t you just use the night you two had as good spanking material and let the rest go? You’re always talking about self-destructive behavior—mostly mine and with fairly good reason—so why can’t you see it in Sara? I mean, you know how I believe the world is a much better place because of the abundance of wonderful women who enjoy one-night stands as much as I do.”

“You may have mentioned it a few dozen times, yeah.”

“Well, going home with a total stranger who’s as creepy as you are kind of screams self-destruction, doesn’t it?”

“Thanks for that, and not necessarily. She took a picture of me and my license and sent it to a friend of hers, so someone would know who I was if anything happened.”

“Then she’s intelligently and safely self-destructive.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Not probably,” Trev said, following me toward the elevator. “I’m right. How long do you think it would last with someone like that anyway? A week? Two? As soon as the sex gets boring, she’s gone.”

“Do you really have boring sex after two weeks, Trevor? You’ve gotta be doing something wrong. Wanna go over the basics? In the spring, a bird—”

“Why the fuck do they call it the birds and the bees? Birds and bees do not get together. Ever. Unless the bird is eating the bee. Huh. Do you think it’s actually about oral sex?”

I laughed. “You’re completely nuts, you know that?”

“Totally. My parents gave me the you’re-completely-nuts talk long before the oral sex one.”

“They royally fucked you up, too.”

“Yeah,” he said, his laugh superficial. “They sure did.” He ran his hands over his face, and when he lowered them, it was as if all traces of unhappiness had disappeared. “So, you really like this chick then?”

I nodded. “A lot more than she likes me.”

I wasn’t sure if his eye roll was due to my comment or the fact that I’d just opened the door to the stairwell instead of heading toward the elevator.

“No way I believe that. She’s probably just intimidated by your studliness or something. Or she just doesn’t know you well enough yet.”

“There is no yet, Trev. She made it very clear she wasn’t interested in the same thing I am.”

“Have you learned nothing from me, Dec? No matter what it is, until you quit trying, every moment you have is a moment you can make something incredible happen.”

As we went down the stairs, I thought about what he’d said. But there was too much to unpack in a few flights. Too many connections to how he lived his life, and the ways my life had changed because of him.

Trev had quit once. I remembered that night as if it were yesterday. I just tried not to.

Coming home from a date with a woman I’d never see again and finding my best friend on the floor in a puddle of tequila. I’d laughed when I saw him. I’d laughed and called him a shithead and nudged him with my foot. When he hadn’t responded, I’d kicked him again. That’s when I saw the pill bottle. My pill bottle—oxycodone I’d never used from when I had shoulder surgery. When I’d left that night, there’d been ten pills in the bottle. When I got back and found him on the floor of our apartment, there was only an empty bottle, and my best friend was barely breathing.

The paramedics got him to the hospital in time, and we’d barely spoken about it since. Not even his parents knew. Just me, him, the medical heroes, and my father, who’d ended up paying for the mess because Trev was still insured by his parents and refused to tell them what had happened. The only sign he even remembered it happening at all was that he’d kept his promise—talk to a shrink once a week until he paid my father back. Something that was probably going to take forever unless this contract with the record label actually went through.

Trevor smacked me on the arm to get me to pay attention. “We’re gonna find this chick for you, man. I won’t rest until we’ve hit every club and drinking establishment in the city.”

“Gee, the sacrifices you make for me...”

“Fuck off, man. This isn’t about having fun. This is work. So, because I love you as much as a man can love another man without breaking some countries’ laws, I’m going to stay stone-cold sober until we find her. Or until next week, whichever happens first.”

“Seriously?”

“That it’s illegal to fuck another guy in some countries? Yeah. Can you believe that shit?”

“You’re not going to drink? Even if it takes all weekend?”

“It won’t. I know I’ve seen her before, which means she must hang at one of the places I do. So, if you get your ass moving and we finish the track for the new song in time, we can begin the search at 3:02, as soon as I’m done spilling my guts to my shrink. You’re welcome, my friend.”

“Thanks, Trevor. Thanks a lot.”

---

We spent the next three days searching for Sara. We didn’t find her. But Trevor was true to his word—not drinking anything stronger than soda all weekend. I could tell it hurt, saw the pained expression on his face when he didn’t know I was looking. So, as disappointed as I was that we didn’t find Sara, at least my friend had shown me I was worth caring about.