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Not going to lie, I'm already starting to miss my bed back home.

I could hear the alarm on the nightstand blaring, and as I looked at it drearily, I groaned pretty loudly.

"I knew I should've tuned the drums back home." I sighed, getting up off the bed, being careful not to disturb the gray mass next to me. Damn, that big lug could sleep through a lot, he was still out cold. As I walked over to the bathroom, I could see Garrett's content mid-dream smirk, accented by a slight bit of drool on his lower lip. Goddammit, that Machoke was adorable.

Closing the bathroom door behind me, I tended to my bathroom duties, brushing my teeth, followed by getting into the warm embrace of the shower. Boy, did that feel good. This damn studio didn't have the best of insulation in the bedrooms, so I had to cuddle up with Garrett for warmth. Not that I minded.

After adjusting the temperature of the water one more time, I squirted some body wash on my hand and began scrubbing my scales, taking my sweet time throughout to make sure I was nice and clean. My hygiene was something I took great pride in; I'm one hell of a clean, classy bastard when I wanted to be.

A quick rinse and I was out, drying off and looking in the mirror, admiring my frame. Bright red body with a tan/orange front, lean yet some muscle. I couldn't help but chuckle at my rather ego-flooded thoughts, thinking I couldn't have asked for anything better.

Opening the door to go back in the bedroom, I saw my Garrett still passed out, now having rolled over on the bed to the point of covering the whole thing, the blanket barely covering his naked form. I know, we've been together for about a month now, but still his body gives me the shivers when I see it. He's perfect, and I'm saying this after ogling my own damn self!

Before my perverted mind could go any further, a thought occurred to me. Just how would this go, him and I? It's painfully obvious he's not over Thel yet.

I sat down at the desk in our room, opening my laptop. As I scrolled through several sites blankly, my mind raced. Would he leave me for Thel if he had the chance? Would he get mad at me for being so nervous about the situation? Would he even mention it to them?

That was the question: WOULD he tell them about us?

If he won't, I damn sure will. At least that's what I was thinking.

"Damn," I mumbled, still staring at my computer. "This kinda sucks."

"....what kinda sucks?"

As I turned around, I could see Garrett sitting up on the other side of the bed, ready to go to the bathroom.

"Nothing, hon."

"Hehe, I told you not to call me that!" he stated, closing the bathroom door behind him.

I hate that. So damn much. We've already fucked, multiple times, and he can't take a simple "hon"? My mind raced, worry now seeping into my brain. What are we gonna do?

I looked at the clock, seeing the little hand approach the 8. Damn! I need to get moving now. Drum tones won't get figured out on their own!

I got dressed, throwing a black wife-beater over me, as well as some loose shorts and some sandals. I needed to be able to move freely for the drumming, especially for drumming for 5 hours. I groaned again, this time more audibly. Five hours of drumming. Boy, am I glad I like what I do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay, you ready, Travis."

Vincent's voice was coming through my headphones as I sat behind my drum kit in the sound booth. Through a large window, I could see him behind his massive equalizer and computer. There was also a couch behind him, with Rory and DJ talking guitar, or at least it seemed like it. I could see Rory do a part, DJ question something, pointing at Rory's guitar, random hand motions, and the like. Those two were like math-nerds compared to my knowledge, all I did was just beat wood with skins on them to a pulp really fast.

After a mental "giggity." I got back to the task at hand.

"Ready. Which song do you want to start with first?" I said, the dozens of mics picking me up in the room.

"Well, since you guys wrote this stuff to flow, we might as well start with the beginning at Calm. Lemme know when your good and I'll start the MIDI and recording. Okay?"

"Okay."

I took a deep breath, stretched out my arms, and gave my clawed feet ad quick stretch, feeling rather relaxed. I then looked back at Vincent, sticks in hand.

"Ready."

"Okay, calm in 3....2....1...."

I listened intently, my eyes closed. The synth orchestration took over, the ambience almost losing me. Damn, the song title fits it well, it really is a calm melody. After quite a few bars, my cue was coming up. At the right moment, I slammed my toms hard, breaking the ambience. The synth began going higher, creating a bit of a buildup to a dramatic moment. I began a slow and hard rhythm on the lower toms, their deep sound creating almost a tribal feel.

After a couple more bars of that rhythm, the beat cuts out, a single fake violin in the background. Patience was key in this song, and I was loving the feeling of relaxing before the difficult stuff. I hadn't even thought of this, but maybe we should take this road when playing live, a nice relaxing opener before getting into the fury.

Almost on cue with his thoughts, he unleashed the crash cymbals as the fake guitars of the pre-programmed song came in, making a loud yet almost euphoric feeling ring out. As I hit each crash on time, the song kept building up and building up until, with one more hit, I choked the cymbals, stopping the sound.

Before the sweeping of the next song could get started, Vincent had stopped the track.

"Okay, sounds great! You hit each note spot on, no need for a second take if you don't want it!"

"Play it back for me." I said, and Vincent triggered the playback.

Yup. It worked. I grinned brightly, loving the sound of the drums with Max's synth ideas. It worked like a damn charm.

"Okay we're good. Next song."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had kept going for the next four hours, only taking a break for lunch and bathroom. Same went for Vincent, who really showed he was determined to get this sounding great. He would make me do takes of matters of seconds to make sure each part sounded spot on. He knew we could play the stuff live, he just wanted us to be perfectly recorded, and I didn't blame him for it one bit.

So, six songs and four hours later, the drums were done. We brought the guys in so they could hear the tones and sound of them, and I almost cried at the reaction.

They were ecstatic.

I sounded perfect in my ears, but to hear them say it really made me feel good. Garrett and Rory started patting me on the shoulders at the more technical parts, and I even heard a collective "Holy shit!" at one fill I did during the last track.

I couldn't remember having such a feeling of pride as I did at that moment, and it was because I had made them proud.

After Vincent let the last track run out, he turned around to face the seven of us, crowding the mixing room rather badly.

"Damn good start, gents. Garrett, I'll see you tomorrow for bass, and the rest of you keep working on perfecting yourselves before your take. I'll see you all tomorrow."

At that, we dismissed to the living room, with Vincent leaving out the back to his car. Max and Thel went to the TV to play some Mario Kart, while DJ opened up his laptop to speak to his girlfriend online. Rory and Nat started some cooking for dinner, and I could hear the cutting boards and knives clatter as I passed the kitchen on the way outside. Out on the porch sat Garrett, idly looking into the sky, his gaze upwards stirring my brain for a moment.

"Hey, Garrett." I said lightly, hoping to break his meditative state.

"Hey." He said, not looking to me at all. My frown could've been seen from the next county.

"You okay?"

"....yeah, I'm good," he said back to me rather sharply, though not with any annoyance or frustration on it.

I sat down next to him and put my hand on his shoulder. His mind must've been an internal warzone at this point, and it hurt to see him in such a state of self-peril.

"You know you need to tell them."

"I can't. You know that. I can't hurt him, Trav."

"He won't be hurt by it at all, big guy! Have you seen those two together? They're practically made for each other! If anything, he'd be concerned with why you were so uncomfortable with it!"

At that statement, his eyes darted to me, anger written all across his face.

"It's not him that's the problem, okay? It's me!" he started, then putting his face in his hands.

"I don't know if I can handle this. I miss him. I miss being with him. I miss loving him. I think...

"....I think I do still love him."

I knew it, but hearing him say it out loud still shook me a bit. Those two were childhood loves, and that kind of bond doesn't break easily.

"If you love him, then let him go."

I hadn't even realized I had said it, but those words escaping my mouth hit home. Hard.

He started sobbing into his hands, his gray face now pink with distress and emotion. All I could do was get close and hug him, at least try to give him some comfort. I know this isn't about me, but I sort of felt bad for giving him this feeling of betrayal towards the whale. I just wish I could help.

That's when I started acting a bit rash.

"I'll tell him."

"No! Noooo nononono no." Garrett spilled, his hands leaving his face to grip my shoulders firmly.

"You can't! It would end us all together, and I don't want to lose him! I can't lose him!"

He was almost shouting, his fear bringing him to almost shaking. My mind felt already made up, so I told him something that stopped the shaking in its tracks.

"You won't. I swear on my life you won't."

With that, I turned and went inside. I could feel his stare on my neck as I left, though I couldn't tell what he did next. He needed this, and we both knew it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The band ate dinner, not knowing our little encounter, with everybody happily shoveling down the tacos and chili made. Garrett wasn't with us, for he went to our room saying he wasn't hungry, which everybody else took for nerves. But I knew better. He was fighting a battle with his heart, one I couldn't tell if he was winning.

After dinner, Nat began playing his acoustic guitar on the couch, singing some Brand New. DJ and Rory sat next to him and sang along lightly, enjoying the evening. Max and Thelen had gone outside for a bit, and I could see them sitting down on the porch.

I figured it would be perfect time as any to get my dragon ass in gear and tell them what's wrong. It would be worth it in the long run, especially for Garrett.

I cared about that damn Machoke too much to let him slip because of me.

"Hey guys, could I talk to you for a second?"

I closed the porch door behind me and walked over to them.

"Sure thing, Trav, what's up?" Max said, cuddling with Thel on the chair. Those two really were a damn cute couple.

"I've got a problem, and you guys need to know."

At that, Thel looked at me, concerned. "Is everything okay? Don't tell me it's Rory's cooking."

"No, no! It's not that, it's just...." I sort of trailed off, but was cut off by Garrett peeking out of the door.

I looked back to see him, his face still slightly red from crying, a look of determination on his face contradicting the tear stains. Max and Thel looked on with confusion, Thel worried greatly by the fact his best friend was crying.

"I think I should be the one to explain."