and the stars will all come out

chapter twenty-four! ☆

THE PHONE IN THE KITCHEN WAS RINGING INCESSANTLY.

Covering his yawn with his hand, trying to pretend for the sake of whoever was on the other line that he'd been up for hours, Nate picked up the kitchen phone and answered, "Hello?"

Landry and Taylor were God knows where outside of the cabin - December was fast approaching, they'd said something about going on an early morning walk to pick out a Christmas tree - and it was barely seven in the morning, who the fuck was calling at this hour?

"Hey, Nate," said Dave's voice on the other end, calling for the first time in days. "How're you doing?"

Nate's body immediately tensed up in recognition, but he opted not to pay attention to it.

"I'm fine, man. It's a little early, but I'm fine. How have you been?"

"Uh - definitely could be doing better, for sure. But that's beside the point. I just wanted to call to say that I'm hoping I should be at the cabin for this evening, so, uh - yeah. I'm sorry I've been away for so long. But I'm coming back home now."

When he didn't say anything else, Nate guessed, "Uh, do you want to know how Landry and the rest of us are?"

"First thing on my to do list when I get back is to apologize to Lani," Dave answered promptly. "I can't believe how much of a fucking douche I've been acting like, Nate, I really have no excuse."

(Nate agreed wholeheartedly, but he didn't say that.)

"Well, we're doing alright," he said. "Lan's been staying over ever since you left, I don't think she has very much else to do. We got the soundboard into the basement. Lan was the one who really made us get our shit together on that one, 'cause she said that you almost passed out moving it in Nashville. Not gonna lie, it sounded like something you would do."

For the first time in days, in a cramped payphone booth outside the Seattle airport, Dave laughed.

"Yeah. She's not wrong, that is what happened."

"If you want me to be honest with you, man," Nate continued, "I can tell you really fucking hurt her. She's moping around and she doesn't even laugh at T's bullshit half the time. I think you acted like a piece of shit with what you said, and I hope you can fix this, man, but you gotta be prepared for her to be hurt. I'm sorry."

While it hurt to hear, Dave was relieved: he could always count on Nate to be a little bit more blunt than Taylor was. It was why the bassist position had been rock solid ever since the Foo Fighters had been formed.

"I understand, Nate. You're completely right. I'm gonna try my hardest to fix it."

Nate let his words hang in the air for a moment.

"Other than that, I think we're doing okay," he said awkwardly. "Taylor's drawing up this huge roster for some kind of Mario Kart tournament when you get back. First round is me versus Adam, and I think Lan is supposed to be playing against you. He's out with Lan, now, they're looking for a Christmas tree. I don't see us getting the tree up until halfway through December, though. What have you been up to?"

"Nothing," Dave sighed. "Can't lie, it's been real shitty. A lot of self reflection. And a shit ton of junk food."

"Doesn't sound much different from what you were doing here," Nate answered.

"Yeah, I know. Listen, my time on this payphone is running out, so I'll see you later tonight, okay?"

"Bye, Dave," Nate said resignedly, wondering how the hell Landry and Taylor were about to receive this news.