Confession

Pictures

Brad stood in front of his wardrobe, mentally discarding shirt after shirt. Nothing felt right, not the clothes, not his hands, certainly not his mental focus. He could hear Chester in the hallway, yelling his way through his vocal warm-ups, and Mike playing chords on the keyboard in the room next to where he was standing. Even though he usually managed to tune it out, the sound of Rob chopping out on the pad in the corner for the last twenty minutes was starting to get on his nerves.

He turned to say something about the repetitive drum warm up right as Dave came to stand next to him, considering his clothing options as well. Closing his mouth and frowning at the sight of Joe strolling through the room without a care in the world, a donut in both hands, Brad turned back to his shirt options.

"You okay?" Dave asked softly, reaching for a plaid button down.

Brad sighed. "I guess. Everything just feels off. I guess I'm just anxious with everything that's been going on the past two days. It's like, non-stop speculation about Mike and Chester. I don't understand why this is so fucking interesting to everyone. Nothing has changed. The show is going to be exactly the same as it was before they started fucking."

Dave cocked his head to the side at Brad's bitter tone, but he completely understood where Brad was coming from. Tonight, in Seattle, was to be their first show since the news of Mike and Chester's divorces hit the media. It had been an epic shit-storm of gossip, and those pictures of the on stage kiss were plastered all over everywhere. The six of them were firmly entrenched in their mantra: 'no comment.' "You know how it is, people just wanting to stir stuff up. It will blow over. We're not talking. There's nothing to see."

"That's just it. You don't think that them acting differently on stage isn't going to add fuel to the fire? If they don't touch each other? If they don'tflirt with each other? That's half their stage presence, that's the reason why it shouldn't even matter at this point, that shit's been going on for so long... it's normal. And if they start acting differently tonight, we might as well light a neon sign behind us that says "Bennoda" is Real." Brad used his fingers for air quotations and as the drumming behind him stopped, peeked back at Rob to see Joe passing a donut off to the drummer, Rob's face brightening with delight. Scowling, Brad commented, "Rob has the worst eating habits. He does not make a very good vegetarian."

"It's just Joe's influence. He does better when he's hanging out with you," Dave added with sincerity, though he was secretly hoping that the compliment might improve Brad's demeanor.

It did not.

"Mike and Chester being at his house isn't helping either. I think he may have even eaten bacon..."

Dave sighed. "Maybe we need to talk to them then, if you're that worried about it. The stage stuff, not the bacon," he clarified. "'No comment' can't turn into 'no contact' or you're right, they're going to make it worse than it is." He picked up a hat and tried it out before tossing it back in his wardrobe. "Just pick a damn shirt, Delson, and come over here with the donut lords and let's talk through it." He poked his head out in the hall and yelled for Chester and Mike to join them.

Frustrated, Brad closed his eyes and stuck his hand in the wardrobe, choosing a shirt and yanking it off the hanger, pulling it over his head without looking at it as he heard Mike and Chester enter the dressing room.

"Man! I'm ready to go!" Chester shouted, fist pumping the air as he danced into the room, Mike following behind grinning ear to ear. Chester turned around and slapped Mike in the rear, and Mike just laughed, same as he always had.

Dave glanced across the room at Brad, who was yanking the shirt lower and coming over to join them all. He lifted his eyebrows as if to say, 'see? They're acting the same as always.'