Ben huffed a laugh. “They’re probably all still asleep.”
Tone and Ben’s phones both buzzed at the same time.
“You want me to go?” Stan asked.
Ben shook his head vehemently. “No.”
Tone went to the TV and fiddled around with the wires coming out of the back of it, and a moment later his phone screen was showing on the TV screen. They were going to video call. Oh God.
“I’m going to move,” Stan murmured.
Ben was frowning like he wanted to say something about that, but he let Stan slip away with the blanket. Stan went and put Hades back on the table, then took the one armchair that wasn’t in sight of the TV and its webcam.
Tone took the space that Stan had just vacated, and then the other three members of Ares appeared on the screen.
“Hello, you bunch of wankers,” Tone said jovially. “I’ve missed looking at your fuck-ugly faces.”
“Hello to you too, you prick. Do you know how early it is here?” Geordie grouched.
“Stan’s here,” Ben said in response, looking over at him.
“Hi Stan,” Summer called. He leaned over to wave at them quickly, then retreated to the armchair so he could gnaw on his cuticles and watch.
Chapter Fourteen
Ben was pretty sure it was his turn to have a breakdown. These were his best friends, God damn it, but everything was still so fucked-up, and he really wasn’t prepared to face the music.
Ha.
“You look good, Ben,” Summer said. She looked better. Like not having to deal with the stress of Ben had actually been good for her. That was probably accurate.
“You too,” he mumbled.
“How’s it going, mate?” Geordie asked.
Ben forced himself to make eye contact with him. “Better,” he admitted. “I think I’m getting better. I’m going to a therapist.”
He watched as Jez’s eyebrows shot up. “Okay. Great,” he said.
They were all sitting around someone’s phone in the kitchen, with the LA sunshine pouring in through the huge windows. The kitchen was always beautiful first thing in the morning during the summer. Ben wished he’d appreciated it more when he was there.
“I spoke to my mum,” Geordie said. “She said you might be moving back into the house?”
“We’re here now,” Ben said. “We’ve been living at Stan’s flat, though.”
“We decided to give Stan his space back,” Tone said diplomatically.
“That’s good,” Geordie said.
Ben couldn’t quite read the mood of his three friends over the video. The call was a fairly good quality, but they were all being very guarded. Not like they normally were.
“How’s the album going?” he asked.
“It’s great,” Jez said. He was always going to be the one who would be the most straight with Ben. He’d never had much time for Ben’s bullshit. “We got a producer to mess with it to give us an idea of how it might sound when it’s finished. Summer’s done some of the vocals.”
“Just to try them out,” she added quickly.
“No, that’s good,” Ben said. “We were always going to get you to take the lead on a few of the songs.”
She nodded, clearly relieved.
Ben took a deep breath. “I want to help. Finish it. If you want me to help.”
He could practically see the relief flow off all three of them.
“That’s fucking amazing,” Geordie said. “Fucking hell, man.”
Ben grinned, but then his smile faded. “I don’t think I can come back to LA, though. I’m sorry. Things are better now I’m here, and I don’t want to fuck it up, and—”
“That’s fine,” Summer said quickly. “There’s fucking recording studios in London, Ben.”
“We can make some calls,” Jez said, looking over at Geordie. “We kind of mentioned to Melissa that you might be recording your part in London, and she was okay with that.”
“Thanks,” Ben said.
Where no one else could see, Tone squeezed his arm reassuringly.
“Look, we’re going to need to figure a few things out,” Jez said. “It might not be right away, but leave it with us, yeah? We’ll let you know when we’ve spoken to Melissa and see what the situation is.”
“Okay.” Ben nodded.
“Love you, Ben,” Summer said and blew him kisses. That made him laugh.
“I love you too,” he murmured. “Speak to you soon, yeah?”
Tone disconnected the call, and Ben flopped back onto the sofa, covering his face with his hands.
“Fucking hell.”
“I told you you should have just spoken to them, you wanker,” Tone said.
“Yeah. You were right. As always.”
Tone squeezed his shoulder as he left the room, taking his phone with him. That left Stan sitting in the chair, looking at him with an expression he couldn’t read.
“Are you okay?” Stan asked.
Ben nodded. “I think so.”
Stan got up and came over to sit on Ben’s lap, his bum one side and legs the other so Ben could wrap his arms around him. Just being able to hold him like this settled something in Ben’s chest. He pressed his face to Stan’s hair and breathed him in.
He didn’t know how to define his relationship with Stan. Ex-boyfriend didn’t seem right when they were dating again, even if that was a horrible word that didn’t accurately describe what they were doing. Stan was the love of Ben’s life, the light in his darkness, the one person who Ben had never forgotten. Memories of being with Stan had been buried deep and rarely examined. For a long time, Ben wasn’t able to face what he’d lost.
Right now, none of that seemed to matter. Ben liked that they weren’t pushing anything. Even though they’d kissed a couple of times, things had stayed fairly innocent between them. They were never going to jump right back into sleeping together. Though Ben would be lying if he said he didn’t want that.
He’d always known what they shared was special. He’d had relationships before Stan and since they broke up, so he was able to frame what they’d had together in the context of other people. There were very few other people in the world with the same light and joy inside them that Stan had. Sometimes Ben felt like he was basking in the glow of being close to Stan, like just the proximity to him made him a better person.
Ben didn’t have many possessions, so it only took one trip in a taxi to get them from Stan’s flat to the house. Everything he owned in London fit into an aeroplane cabin-sized suitcase and one black bin bag, which was fucking depressing. The rest of his shit was back in LA, and Ben wasn’t even really sure if he wanted any of it. There was something strangely freeing about being rid of all of it. Ben unpacked everything by chucking all of his clothes on the sofa and taking his guitar downstairs, then shut the bedroom door.
Even though his crap was in his bedroom, he didn’t sleep in there. Ben kind of understood why Stan had had something of a meltdown just from being in the room. At this point, there was no way to extract memories of living with Stan from the few memories he had of being in that room there on his own. Probably because he’d only been there on his own a handful of times after he broke up with Stan, and most of those times he’d been off his face on drugs.