ᒪᗩᗪY ᔕTᖇᗩᑎGE

ii

Sav woke up with his head on Joe's chest. Why? He guessed he'd fallen asleep like that, and Joe hadn't cared or been able to push him off. The TV was still on, playing the news. Joe was snoring softly, and Sav took the opportunity to roll over and reach up, freeing Joe's hands.

"Hey, Joe..." Sav trailed off, watching the top story on NBC. "Look at this."

"What?" The singer mumbled sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

"Check out the news."

"Breaking news," a pretty female reporter said, "Delta Airlines flight 625 went down over the Atlantic Ocean early this morning. All twenty-four people on the plane were killed. Delta is investigating the cause of the crash, but as of now, the investigation has provided no conclusive results."

"Oh my God. That was my flight. 625. I remember, because what a funny coincidence that it would be 625, of all numbers." Joe took a deep breath. "Oh my God." He whispered.

"She was right." Sav said quietly. "Joe..."

"Oh my God." Joe repeated.

"I could've lost you!" Sav cried out, wrapping his arms around Joe and burying his head in his friend's chest. "Joe, I could've lost you! You could've died!" Sav hiccuped, a shaky sob wracking his body. Joe hugged him tightly, rubbing his back and playing with his hair.

"But you didn't lose me. I'm right here, Rick, just like always."

Sav loved it when Joe called him Rick. He only did it occasionally, but it made Sav feel loved and wanted by someone other than Lainey, who seemed to want him to be as miserable as possible. He was glad she was divorcing him.

"Thank you for making me stay. You saved my life."

"No..." Sav said slowly, "She did."

***

"We're going to Starbucks and that's final." Joe said, arms crossed. "We can make a game plan over a nice, hot cup of coffee."

"I like frappuccinos." Sav smirked.

"Okay, fine, a cup of coffee at whatever temperature you fancy."

"I don't like coffee." Phil said.

"Whatever! Get water if you want, but we're going to Starbucks and that's final."

"Alright. Get in the car." Sav slid into the driver's seat of their rented SUV. "Starbucks, game plan, and then we find her."

"I know this is important, but how exactly are we going to track down a teenage girl without seeming like creeps?" Vivian made a face. "I mean, five middle-age men looking for a fifteen-year-old girl? People'll think we're total pedos."

"He does have a point." Phil said. "We're not exactly the nicest looking bunch, either."

"Nice? We're plenty nice."

"C'mon, Sav, get real. You've got long hair and you're wearing ripped up jeans and an AC/DC shirt. Joe has the worst case of resting bitch face I've ever seen."

"Hey!" Joe protested, "Do not!"

"Yes you do. We all have earrings and tattoos, and Rick's missing an arm. We look like a bunch of ruffians."

"Phil's right." Rick nodded. "Sorry, Sav, Joe, but this is a lost cause."

"We have to find her!" Sav said desperately. "She saved Joe's life!"

"It's impractical."

"Since when do we give a flying fuck about impracticality?" Sav parked crookedly in front of a freestanding Starbucks and got out of the car, slamming the door. "This band...this band has been through so much. Impracticality is nothing new. Remember when Rick lost his arm? Yeah, a one-armed drummer is pretty fucking impractical, but we did it. If we can handle this...curse that we seem to have, we can find this girl."