Page 5 of Madness

Ipush through the glass door of Sunny's Diner, the bell jingling overhead. The familiar scent of coffee and burgers mingles with industrial cleaner, starkly contrasting the posh hotel we just left. Cracked red vinyl booths and gleaming chrome accents greet us, the diner's worn charm a welcome comfort.

"You good?" Stefan asks, his brow furrowed with concern.

I nod, forcing a smile I don’t feel. To be honest, I haven’t felt much today. "Yeah, just need some grease and caffeine."

The truth is, I need something to fucking do other than go home and dwell on shit.

I can still feel the reporter’s eyes on me, searching for the things I don’t share. Did she buy the story about my red eyes being from allergies? Did my hands shake when I took those millions of sips of water?

Even after a year with Chaos Fuel, I still feel like the 'new guy.' Being picked from an internet fan contest has branded me an amateur despite years of playing in LA bands. The reporter bringing up my background during the interview might help establish my legitimacy, but the pressure to prove myself every day is still there.

We slide into a booth, and I grab a menu, more to hide behind than to actually read. We've been coming here often enough; I know it by heart.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite rockstars," a cheerful voice says, and I lower my menu to see Jen, one of the regular waitresses. "The usual for you boys?"

Stefan nods enthusiastically, but before I can respond, another waitress approaches. She's new - or at least, I've never seen her here before. Her dark brown hair is pulled back in a long ponytail, and there's a weariness in her hazel eyes that speaks of long nights and longer days.

"Sorry, Jen," she says, her voice soft but firm. "This is my section today."

Jen shrugs good-naturedly. "All yours, Lauren. Just don't let Dakota here charm you into extra fries like he does with me."

I feel my face heat up, but Lauren just nods politely. "I'll keep that in mind," she says, turning to us. "So, what can I get for you?"

Stefan rattles off his order, and I manage to get mine out without stumbling. Something about Lauren catches my attention, but I can't quite put my finger on it. It's not attraction, exactly, more like a vague sense of familiarity.

As Lauren jots down our orders, a small silver locket around her neck catches the light as she leaves. For a moment, I'm transported back to last night, to the glint of silver on my nightstand. Chloe's wedding ring, which I've kept all these years. I usually always keep it in my pocket. Today, of all days, I forgot.

"You okay, Dakota?" Stefan's voice snaps me back to reality. "You look... off."

I shake my head, trying to clear it. "Yeah, just thinking about the interview. Hope I didn't say anything stupid."

Stefan laughs, running a hand through his short blonde hair. "Nah, you were great. The fans are gonna eat it up. I think it went really well, actually. She asked good questions."

I can’t help but shrug at that. I’m not sure all the questions were that great. In fact, I’m still conflicted about talking about Chloe at all.

Stefan leans in, lowering his voice. "But man, I gotta ask... are you okay? That stuff about Chloe... We've never heard you talk about her like that before."

And there it is. At least I wasn’t the only one affected by it. I tense up, my fingers tightening around my coffee mug. "I'm fine," I say, maybe too quickly. "It just... caught me off guard, you know? I didn’t think that would come up, to be honest."

Stefan nods, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. "Yeah, I get it. We were all pretty surprised. But hey, if you ever want to talk about it..."

I force a smile. "Thanks, but I'm good. Really."

The lie curdles something deep inside of me, but Stefan, while a great guy, wouldn’t understand. He still parties. Still lives like he’s invincible. Nothing can touch him. I haven’t gotten that close with him for that very reason.

If I’m truly close with anyone in the band, it’s Brad. But we write lyrics together, so he sees my feelings written down all the time. He used to ask about them but has come to realize over time that I don’t really like talking about shit. So, he’s kind of stopped asking, which is fine with me. It hasn’t hindered our relationship at all.

Stefan eyes me dubiously across the table for a minute, and I start to worry he’s seeing through my lies about being okay. If only he knew how close I'd come to blowing it all up last night. How close I still am.

"So, changing the subject, but not really... what do you think about the way the interviewer kept focusing on you? It's like she couldn't get enough of the 'internet contest winner makes it big' angle."

I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant. "I guess it's a good story. Better than 'Dude plays bass, joins band' anyway."

"True," Stefan chuckles. "But seriously, you've more than proven yourself this past year. You're one of us now, man. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise."

His words hit me deeper than I expected. I swallow hard, nodding. "Thanks, man. I appreciate that."

Before Stefan can say anything else, movement catches my eye. Lauren approaches our table, a welcome distraction from the heaviness of our conversation. She returns with Stefan’s drink, setting it down carefully. As she refills my coffee, her sleeve rides up slightly, revealing a small tattoo of a treble clef on her wrist.

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