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Meanwhile, José had also set aside his drumsticks and got himself a drink. Although a fan was spinning on the ceiling, it was still hot in there. Leaf placed the guitar on the stand, wiped the sweat from his face, and lit a new cigarette. It was more refreshing than the lukewarm beer still sitting on his amplifier.
“Here,” José said, tossing him a water bottle before sitting on the couch with his phone in hand.
Leaf drank half the bottle, then poured some into his hand and wiped it over his face and through his hair.
Tristan was still immersed in his lyrics, in his own world, detached from the here and now. With one leg stretched out on the floor and the other bent, he scribbled intently in his black notebook.
Somehow, Leaf felt relieved. At least not everything had changed, and a band rehearsal still acted like an inspirational bomb on Tristan. He feverishly filled page after page in handwriting that no one but himself could decipher. Leaf picked up his acoustic guitar with steel strings and sat next to Tristan on the couch.
“I gotta go,” José said. “My brother’s asking for a ride.”
“Where is he?”
“At the university. Apparently, a class got canceled, and his car is still in the shop.”
Leaf strummed a few chords and nodded to José.
“See you, Tris,” José said, patting him on the shoulder before leaving.
Tristan raised his free hand, as if to let José know that it wouldn’t be much longer.
“It’s okay, don’t let me stop you,” José said with a broad grin as he left the Gaucho.
The moment the door closed behind him, Leaf was brought back to the distorted reality. Tristan and him. Alone. Five weeks ago, they would have been all over each other, because since Andrej stopped bringing groupies, they often had the rehearsal room to themselves. But right now, it felt as if he had forgotten how they used to get along. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t and shouldn’t pounce on Tristan. He didn’t deserve it. Not as long as Diego …
Leaf took out his phone and opened the chat with Diego. He had reached out countless times and sent numerous messages, all of which had gone unanswered. He couldn’t even see when Diego was last online. The guy had disappeared, and four weeks had passed.
“Where are you?” Leaf typed in annoyance. In every single message, he had so far avoided cursing or insulting Diego in any way. He knew him too well to know that the Mexican wouldn’t respond to that kind of thing.
For a while, he stared thoughtfully at the display. Yes, he knew Diego well, and that worried him because Diego wasn’t one to disappear. He had never done that. The guy was a self-aggrandizing, arrogant asshole who wasn’t afraid of anything. He continued his illegal business, mocking the cops who still hadn’t caught him after seven years. It was high time that changed. Somehow. If his own guilt was barely bearable, he could at least ensure that Diego got what he deserved. But first, he had to find him.
He switched to the chat with Ariana, Diego’s sister, whom he had also texted to several times. It didn’t surprise him that she didn’t respond. Just because he had hooked up with her a few times didn’t mean that they had a relationship. But when he got together with Tristan and had given her the cold shoulder after the tour, he was dead to her.
Suddenly, Tristan turned to him and placed his hand on his knee. “Let’s go.”
Leaf put the phone away. “Where to?”
“To your place.”
The sparkle in Tristan’s eyes was unmistakable, but the thought that it might be directed at him he couldn’t allow. Just the hand on his knee sent crackling currents through his leg, gathering warmth in his core. Fortunately, he still had the guitar on his lap.
“We could grab something at the Mongolian first,” Tristan suggested.
“Okay.” Although he longed solely for the next high, he knew it had been too long since he’d eaten anything.
And what comes after that?
He pushed the thought aside and placed the guitar in its case. Grabbing his phone and wallet, he turned toward the exit, where Tristan was already waiting next to the light switches. On the table, amid the ashtrays and empty beer cans, still lay the phone Andrej had brought him.
“Aren’t you taking that?”
Tristan waved it off. “Don’t need it.”
They turned off the lights, locked the door to the rehearsal room, and got into Leaf’s car, which he had parked right outside. The merciless sun blazed down on the city, squeezing sweat out of every pore. The air in the car was so hot that it was hard to breathe. At least the air conditioning was working.
To his surprise “City Song” was playing on the radio, given they had released “Silverlights” as the first single from their new album. When the song ended and the host started talking again, Tristan turned off the radio.
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