In Drummer Heaven

Bass Players To The Rescue

"Red, it's a formal restaurant." Nikki says on the other end of the phone and I roll my eyes.

"Yes, I know that." I remind him.

"So you have to wear formal attire." He tells me and I sigh.

"What if I wear my nice jeans?" I ask and he sighs.

"No-wait. What is the Red definition of 'nice jeans'?" Nikki wonders and I laugh.

"Six hundred dollar jeans that I got shipped from Europe." I explain.

"Jesus Christ! You spend that much of a pair of jeans?" He asks and I nod (even though he can't see me).

"You can't see it but I'm nodding." I say and he laughs. "It's not counting shipping either."

"All crazy expensive jeans aside, Bret is taking you to a fancy restaurant for your one month and you have to dress appropriately." Nikki tells me. "Look, I'll be over in like fifteen minutes. We'll rip apart your closet then we'll go shopping."

"Fine." I grumble and he laughs.

"Love you, Red." He says and I roll my eyes.

"I love me too." I say.

"I'm hurt, Red." Nikki jokes and I smile.

"Love you too, man whore." I say and he laughs.

"There it is. I'll be around in a few." He says and hangs up the phone.

I flop on my bed and hang my head off the side. I have to let everything sink in for a minute.

Almost three months ago our band got signed. Tommy and I were forced to break up about two months ago. Six weeks ago I was told that I shouldn't see Tommy until I was ready to move on so we wouldn't get black out drunk and hook up again. One month ago I started dating Bret.

I mean the girls are great and the record is going to be released in January. I mean our manager is throwing us on your as soon as we finish recording it. And Bret is great, he's sweet and fun. I like him, I really do but...he's not Tommy.

Like from the first time Tommy and I kissed it was--as completely cliché as it sounds--it was like magic. I mean it was out of the park, grand slam, The Giants Win The Pennant, kinda thing.

And yes, I did quote baseball three times. I lived in New York for a long time and--for the most part at least--New Yorkers love baseball.

But Tommy was more than just my boyfriend. We had such a silly, goofy, stupid relationship. We could act like complete jackasses together but we could have real, meaningful conversations. No offence to Nikki or Dani but Tommy was my best friend and boyfriend all tied up in one.

Within about twenty minutes Nikki shows up with Dani claiming that he needed reinforcements. Nikki starts to go through my closet as Dani goes through my dresser, I sit crisscross applesauce on my bed watching them. Nikki pushes stuff around in my closet for a while and sighs.

"Leather, Levi's, and Led Zeppelin tops." He grumbles. "As far as girly clothes go, it's about as empty as CC's head. How you doing, Dan?"

"Hey! He may be kinda dumb sometimes but he's still my Fluffy Boy." Dani says and Nikki and I share a look. "Come on, you two have to have pet names for your significant other. Nikki what do you call your girlfriend?" Nikki gives her a look. "What did you call the girl you banged last night?"

"Blonde that was build like a shit house." He admits and I laugh while Dani rolls her eyes.

"Bad example." She says. "Darc, what do you call Bret?"