2 kids

Amends.

Alex.

"You rented motorcycles?!" Mae's eyes flash with disbelief and fear. "You've got to be kidding me."

Neither Ace nor I say anything. We exchange a brief look, confirming the silent agreement we're keeping quiet. Not surrendering, not avoiding to answer, simply remaining silent and waiting for Mae to continue complaining.

And she does, "Did you consult this with anyone? Does the management team know about this? My god, why did you do it?" There's a brief pause, and for a split second I get the need to answer, but it's gone the second I see the change in her eyes. "Don't even answer that, I'm not surprised. I'm just ..... I want to do that too."

"Rent a motorcycle?" Ace's brows furrow in confusion. Mae's keeping a relatively safe distance from motorcycles. She doesn't turn down an offer for a ride when she's in a good mood, but she never comes asking for one.

"No," she shakes her head. "I want that privilege too. Something.... I want a free pass for something like you got yours for your bikes."

"They're not ours," he argues. His words weighting a little more than Mae can pick up. Renting a bike and driving your own isn't the same. A vehicle like a vehicle, our manager said. On one hand he's right, on the other he's completely wrong. It may just be another deadly vehicle, but you develop a certain connection to it.

Mae rolls her eyes. "Don't start that now, Ace."

He wisely keeps his mouth shut, but doesn't hide the disagreement on his face. He'd protect his theory to the last second, not backing until he wouldn't win. And with the stubbornness he has, he'd be going on and on for hours.

River enters the studio, carrying two coffees. One for him, one for Mae, and nothing for Ace and me. "Why is Mae complaining again?"

"Because those two rented motorcycles," she eagerly explains. "We're in LA, to work and spend time with our friends, and they rent motorcycles like we're still in New York."

"If it reminds them of home, let them rent as many motorcycles as they want."

With the laid back attitude lacing his every word, I suddenly find myself imagining River in a few years, as a father. And it terrifies me. The future that seems so close, yet so far away, with all its responsibilities, challenges, fears and questions, terrifies me more than I want to admit. The question of how many of us will make it that far. And though we've made promises that run deeper than any blood bound promise ever will, it haunts me some days.

"I want that free pass too."

River nods, handing her her coffee. He doesn't seem to care much, still he says, "I agree with that. But they're just bikes and they make our boys happy. As long as they don't cheat on us with them, I don't care if they rent the president's private airplane."

Ace laughs, but no smile coats River's face. I've never met anyone with the ability to joke with a poker face like River. His humour is exceptional, and with no additional facial expressions to let the world know he's joking, most people never get it.

River drops down in the chair next to me, immediately starting to work. He reaches for the unfinished lyric, reading it over. He's strangely way too impatient to get started compared to Ace and I. The second I enter the studio I have a tendency to switch to my professional mode immediately and get working. Why now I am hesitating and taking my time is quite surprising to me.

"You seem like you have ideas," I point out, catching the glare in his eyes. The flame of ideas behind the deep brown of his iris.

"Maybe."