Page 23 of Rebooting Conor Flynn

“I can drop you two off somewhere and take the bus back to the studio. They can scream all they want at an empty bus. I’ll take your car and get someone from the studio to follow me on my bike. Then I can give him a ride back on my bike.” Ham scratched his beard. “I just don’t wanna take the bus too far.”

“I have an idea.” Noelle poked me in the back. “Remember when you said the best thing about LA was eating at In-N-Out? There’s one right by the airport. We can even sit outside and watch the planes come in. Ham, do you have something he can wear? A hat? A jacket?”

“I have a flannel. Might be a little big, but that’s the point, right? Get lost? I have a baseball cap, too.”

It had been a while since I had to go out in disguise. I had a few fans approaching me, but usually they were chill. I had no idea what happened back there.

“What do you think, Con? Dinner at In-N-Out?”

Dinner with Noelle on an early summer night in LA? Couldn’t think of anything better. “Let’s do it. Not too much trouble for you, Ham?”

“I gotta make amends somehow. My boss is gonna be pissed.”

Noelle said, “If you do this, we’ll put in a good word for you. You did save us from a pack of rabid fans.”

“In that case...”

***

Fifteen minutes later, Noelle and I sat at a round table beneath an umbrella on the patio of the best fast food burger joint in the city, waiting for our number to be called. Ham dropped us off a block away at an airport parking garage to avoid making a grand entrance with the bus.

When I heard our number over the loudspeaker, I jumped up to collect our food. With Ham’s oversized red flannel flapping over my T-shirt and his trucker hat pulled low on my forehead, nobody gave me a second glance.

I grabbed the box crammed with two burgers and a mess of fries with one hand and a bag loaded with more burgers for Ham and his accomplice.

When I went back outside and approached Noelle, I tipped my head to the side, toward the grass that led to the sidewalk.

Noelle grabbed our drinks and followed me to the grass. I sat down and put the box on the ground. “I figure we can watch those airplanes.”

A plane descended above our heads, drowning out my last word.

As Noelle started to sit, I said, “Wait.”

I shrugged out of the flannel and placed it on the grass. “You can sit on that. I don’t think anyone’s going to recognize me. It’s not like I have any noticeable tattoos like the other lads.”

Her searching glance trailed down my bare arms, giving me goosebumps. “After all these years, you’re still afraid of the needle.”

“Now it’s just become my trademark.” I rubbed my arms under her scorching gaze. “The only member of Five2Go without tattoos.”

Or at least without visible tattoos, but Noelle didn’t need to know about that...yet.

She snatched a fry from the box and waved it in the air. “Makes coming out like this a little easier.”

“Or I’m just not as popular as the others.” I shoved the edge of the burger in my mouth, wishing I could take back those pathetic words and making sure I didn’t continue down that pity path.

Her lips puckered around her straw as she tilted her head. “I don’t know why you guys always have to turn everything into a contest and compare your careers or your popularity. You’re all different, and you all concentrated on distinct aspects of your music and careers.”

“I don’t even know why I said that.” I dragged a napkin across my face. “We’re really not in competition with each other, even though the press keeps pushing that narrative. Couldn’t be happier for Ian’s success. He deserves every bit of it after what he went through. And Charlie’s killing it with his songwriting. He and Devon just penned a hit for an up-and-coming country artist. Sam’s movie is a hit and now he’s back to making an album, which I’m sure will be another hit.”

“And Jay?”

“Jay’s doing what he wants, keeping a low profile.” I snapped my fingers. “Maybe you can help convince Jay to do a reunion tour. You always had a way with him...with all of us.”

“I don’t know about that. Haven’t talked to him in years.” Noelle patted my knee. “You forgot to mention your own successes.”

“Me?” I grabbed a handful of fries. Where was the vinegar when you needed it?

“You know you’re the most popular judge on that show. Your previous album did solid numbers. You may not win a Grammy for it, but we both know that award is a stamp of approval from the industry and doesn’t have much to do with real, good music. That’s what you produce, Con, real, good music.”