Now he’d got the living room how he wanted it, Ben had decided to buy a couple more fluffy rugs to cover the floor. It was cosy already but they could definitely make it warmer for the winter. In the corner, next to the window, he’d purposefully left a space for a huge Christmas tree.

  He’d never had a real tree before, but this was their forever home. And he wanted one.

  They settled in faster than Ben ever thought possible. Within a few days, all of Stan’s clothes were thrown around the bedroom, and his dressing table was covered with makeup. Ben had always been able to see Stan’s flaws—they’d lived together before, and he wasn’t blind. Most of them didn’t bother Ben at all, or he’d learned to tolerate them. To see that Stan was still as gloriously messy as he’d always been was actually a bit heart-warming.

  The bed was unmade and the whole room smelled like hair stuff and perfume and Stan. He was very okay with that.

  And Hades back on his bedside table. That felt right too.

  Because Stan’s job often took him out of the house, Ben was left on his own. In the first week after they moved in, he spent a lot of time wandering around, just touching things. Reminding himself that this was home now. For a long time, being alone like this had been his worst nightmare. But this home wasn’t tainted by drugs or arguments or bad vibes, and he found himself able to settle into his office and be a productive human being.

  Or at least pretend to be one.

  While the others worked with Weston, their producer, on the final mix of the album, Ben worked with an artist he found online for the cover. Not that he got much of a say in it. Their record label would ultimately decide what the album artwork would look like, but Ben could be persistent when he needed to be, and he was confident that this would be accepted as an “exclusive alternative” if nothing else.

  He had strong feelings about this album. Mostly stomach-clenching, anxiety-ridden feelings. Their first album had been finished before they broke out, so making that hadn’t really been stressful at all. The second one had been a lot of pressure, but a lot of excitement too. It had been their first time working with a professional producer with an audience ready and waiting to hear their music.

  This album would be a defiant return to form.

  Or it would, if Ben didn’t have a breakdown before it was even released.

  In the past week he’d also rediscovered hand-rolled cigarettes, something he’d mostly given up. He wasn’t smoking constantly, it was just something to do with his hands and an excuse to step out onto the patio in the garden for a while. Even though the garden was south-facing, at this time of year it was cold and grey. When Ben closed his eyes, he could picture what it would be like in the summer, with the doors to the kitchen open and Tone at the barbeque, flipping burgers.

  They didn’t have a barbeque yet. It would go on the list to get sorted next summer.

  One poor, empty plant pot had become his ashtray, and Ben stubbed out the end of his fag and took a couple of deep breaths of chilly winter wind. Then he went back inside to go and find Stan, who was working in his office.

  Ben sat down on the floor and pressed his face to Stan’s knee.

  “What’s wrong, hmm?” Stan asked.

  “Everything.”

  “Oh, sweetheart.”

  Stan ran his fingers through Ben’s hair, his most gently calming gesture, and Ben tried hard not to cry.

  “I want to get high,” he admitted. “I really, really want to.”

  “Okay. Why’s that?”

  Ben buried his face in Stan’s thigh. Trying to explain to someone who’d never experienced it before was difficult.

  “Because I don’t want to think about anything.”

  Stan stood up and held out his hand to tug Ben to his feet too. He took them across the hall to Ben’s office and went and picked a guitar from the wall.

  “Play me something?” he asked, holding out the guitar.

  “You’re trying to distract me,” Ben grumbled. But he took the guitar.

  “Yes.”

  Stan sat down on the floor, his back to the wall. Ben decided to get another comfy beanbag or something to go in here; Stan liked sitting on the floor.

  He sat down on the sofa and carefully strummed the strings, testing the tuning.

  Over the next hour, he took Stan through the EP he’d written that no one seemed to know what to do with. Ben wasn’t ready to release it into the world yet, but it had been included on the list of negotiations that Jez had sent to Melissa, so probably someone would want it at some point.

  When he was done, Ben set the guitar aside and let Stan crawl into his lap.

  “I really envy how you can put music together like that,” Stan said. Ben settled his arms around Stan’s waist, feeling marginally better. “You take the most horrible things in the world and make them beautiful.”

  “It doesn’t feel beautiful.”

  “How does it feel?”

  “Like… like relief. I still want cocaine, Stan.”

  “I know, baby. I know. Is this about the album?”

  Well, now he said it, it sounded obvious. “Yeah. Probably.”

  “Summer said….”

  “It’s okay, she says it all to my face too. You can’t tell me anything she hasn’t said before.”

  “She said you were clean for months before the last album came out. Then you didn’t cope so well when it was released.”

  “Yeah. That happened.”

  “Is it because it’s all so personal, do you think?”

  “That probably has something to do with it. Yeah.”

  Stan shifted so he was sitting with his back to the arm of the sofa with his legs draped over Ben’s lap. It was more comfortable, but less intimate. Ben wanted to scoop him up and take him to bed and hide under the covers until everything went away.

  “Do you think now that you have a good relationship with Dr Greg, you can use that to handle this album a bit better?”

  “I’m already handling it better,” Ben said. He took hold of Stan’s hand and threaded their fingers together. “I’m not off my face on Vicodin and cocaine in a trap house in Long Beach.”

  He wasn’t expecting Stan to laugh, but smiled too when he did.

  “I think you need to do something positive,” Stan said, sitting up a little straighter.

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know.” Stan took his hand back and let his hair loose from its bun, letting it fall around his shoulders. “Just something for the album that makes you feel excited for it, rather than dreading it.”

  “Are you talking about a gig?”

  Stan shrugged. “Are you?”

  “You’re starting to sound like my fucking therapist,” Ben grumbled, and Stan grinned again.

  “Sorry. Do you want to play a gig?”

  “We haven’t played anything live in ages. We’re very out of practice.”

  “Well, I’m sure you could use Buck Shot as rehearsal space.”

  “Or as gig space,” Ben said absently. Stan raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you doing that thing where you have an idea and you’re trying to make me think it’s my idea so I’m on board with it?”

  “If only I was that manipulative, darling,” Stan said. And smiled.

  “Alright. What if we played a gig at Buck Shot?”

  “What if you did?”

  Ben leaned in and tickled Stan’s sides until he was screaming with laughter.

  “Get off me. Get off, you brute.”

  Ben kissed him soundly. “A gig,” he continued, as if they hadn’t just been acting like total children. “To play a few old favourites and a couple of songs from the new album. For fans. At the venue where we broke out.”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Stan said.

  Ben knew when he was being manipulated. Luckily, when it was Stan, he didn’t care.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Stan managed to set the whole thing up in a matter of hours. It wasn’t as difficult as the others seemed to think—he just walked into Buck Shot when it opened, sat down at the bar with the new manager, Kerry, and told him what he wanted.

  Kerry was cool, an older guy who had been managing pubs in Camden for about forty years, give or take, and had done a lot to build on the good reputation that Buck Shot already had for live music. He’d brought in some local craft beers too, and converted one of the upstairs rooms into a kitchen that served food in the evenings.

  Even though Kerry had no experience working with Ares, he was aware of the guys from back in the day.

  “I kicked Tone out of the Oxford Arms once,” he said, tugging on his greyish beard and grinning.

  “I hate to tell you this,” Stan said, “But that really isn’t much of a claim to fame. Tone has been kicked out of many pubs around here.”

  That made Kerry laugh.

  They worked out a plan for the gig that would mean extra security brought in at the right moment to keep things nicely under control, without making the regular pub patrons feel like they were in some kind of police state. Stan could promise publicity for the bar in return for the effort Kerry was putting in, which he accepted as a good deal, especially since it came with generous compensation for the fuss they were causing. Stan also had an idea to do a photo shoot in the bar at some point, maybe when it came to promoting the next album, and Kerry was up for that too. After all, if they were going with a homecoming theme for the promotion season, it made sense to root that in the pub where it all started.

  Setting up for the gig and sound checking didn’t take long at all, mostly because of how familiar Ares were with the space and how their music sounded in it. Stan sat at the back of the room and worked on his laptop and occasionally gave Jez a thumbs-up when he was testing levels. And stepped in to play peacekeeper when the inevitable arguments broke out.

  In the end, they decided they’d do five songs—opening with their biggest hit to date, three from the new album, including “Girl Things,” then finishing like they’d always done in their early gigs, with their own version of “Teenage Kicks.”

  While they were rehearsing—and arguing—over that, Stan went outside to get some fresh air, and found a woman who looked very out of place for Camden texting rapidly on her phone.

  “Can I help?” Stan asked, carefully shutting the door behind himself so the noise from rehearsals didn’t spill out.

  She looked at him with a frantic expression. “Is there… a band… rehearsing here?”

  “Yes.” Stan wasn’t sure what else to tell her. She was dressed smartly, in a tailored dress and heels, with her dark hair in slightly frizzy waves around her shoulders.

  “I don’t suppose…. Are you Stan?”

  “Yes,” Stan said, holding out his hand.

  “Oh thank God. I’m Melissa Armitage. I’m with Coast, Ares’s management company.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Stan said as she shook his hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t think anyone was expecting you.”

  “No, probably not. I spoke to Jeremy last night—well, last night my time—and I figured I should be here for this.”

  “You just flew in from LA?”

  “Yes.” She smoothed her hand over her hair, a little self-consciously.

  “Do you want a drink?” Stan asked with a laugh.

  “Dear God, yes. But I probably shouldn’t. Are they rehearsing?”

  “They’re almost done,” Stan said. He cocked his head to the side as he considered how much to tell her. “Ares rehearsals don’t always run smoothly.”

  “Nothing with this band does. You’re Ben’s boyfriend?”

  “Yes.” Stan was still getting used to that title again. It was nice, hearing it from someone else.

  “I’m sure there are other people who have said this to you already, but holy shit, Stan, the change in that man since you came along is astonishing.”

  Stan was slightly taken aback by that. “I didn’t know you’d spoken to him.”

  Melissa shook her head. “I speak to Jeremy and Summer a few times a week. Tone and Will and Ben less, but I try and keep in touch.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m totally thrown by you using their full names,” Stan said, unable to keep the smile from his face. Melissa laughed too.

  “I know. Tone is the only one who’s managed to get me using his nickname. Probably because he refuses to answer to Daniel, so I had to get used to calling him Tone if I ever wanted him to talk to me.”

  “That sounds like Tone.”

  “How’s the album coming along?”

  “You haven’t heard it?”

  “Bits of it,” Melissa said. Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she looked down at the notification, rolled her eyes, then tucked it into her Mulberry handbag. “I liked what I heard a lot, but it felt like there was still a lot to do.”

  “They’ve done a lot in the past week, ten days,” Stan said, nodding. “They’ve finished recording everything now, and Jez is working with their producer to start putting it all together. Tonight is to test it out, see how people respond to it, and make any final tweaks.”

  “Will this band ever do anything in a normal fashion?” Melissa asked, clearly exasperated. “I thought they’d be a nice pop/rock band that I could keep entertained with Rolling Stone covers and appearances on SNL.”

  “I wish you’d called me before you picked up the job.” Stan grinned. “I would have warned you off.”

  “Jeremy said they want to talk to me. Do you know what that’s about?”

  Stan immediately clammed up. “I’m just Ben’s boyfriend,” he said. “You’ll have to ask them about that.”

  “You’re a lot more than just Ben’s anything,” she said, giving him a small smile. “But I do appreciate your loyalty. They probably need it.”

  “Melissa!”

  Stan jumped when Tone burst through the door and jogged over to pull Melissa into one of his traditional bear-hugs.

  “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “Neither did I,” she said, patting him on the arm as he released her. “It’s good to see you, Tone.”

  “We’ll play you some of the album,” he said with childlike enthusiasm.

  “I’d like that a lot.”

  “Come on inside,” Stan said. “I’ll get you that drink.”

  Tone ducked behind the bar and put together a round of drinks based on whatever came in bottles and therefore didn’t need the pumps turned on to acquire. When Ben came out from the venue at the back, he looked a little horrified to see Melissa.

  “Hi, Ben,” she said easily.

  “Hey.” He gave Stan a wild-eyed, panicked kind of look.

  The others tumbled through after Ben and all seemed far more enthusiastic about Melissa’s presence.

  “You came just for the gig?” Jez asked her as he gave her a hug.

  “And to see you guys. It’s been a while.”

  They took one of the booths so they could all sit together easier, and Ben tucked himself in next to Stan. Stan put his hand on Ben’s knee to stop it bouncing and tried to lead Ben in some calming breaths.

  “We’ll play you some of the album,” Summer told Melissa. To Stan, it looked like they had a good relationship. “You’re going to love it.”

  “I’m sure. How are you guys, anyway? Outside of finishing the album.”

  A few heads turned to Ben, but he firmly looked in the other direction.

  “It’s been good,” Geordie said. “I think we’re all enjoying being back in London.”

  “We wanted to talk to you anyway,” Jez said and pulled his laptop out of his backpack. “About our plans after this.”

  Stan sat back and let Ben wrap his arm around his shoulders as Jez laid out everything they’d talked about before, from how they wanted to promote the album to the homecoming gigs and the local festivals around the UK next summer.

  “You don’t want to do any dates in the US at all?” Melissa asked.

  Jez shook his head. “No. We’ll play anywhere here, anywhere that means we can come home after and sleep in our own beds. No more tour busses.”

  Melissa sat back and drummed her fingers on the top of the table. “We haven’t done anything like this before. It doesn’t mean it can’t be done, but I’m not sure how to set it up. You don’t want to do anything in Europe either?”

  “No,” Summer said firmly. Stan’s heart clenched a little at how the guys were rallying around Ben, not making him defend any of the decisions that had ultimately been his.

  “There’s some great festivals in the UK,” Tone said. He was closest to Melissa and angled Jez’s laptop so she could look at it. “I mean, Glastonbury gets global coverage anyway. And there’s some smaller festivals that I think all of us would like to play, either as a band or on our own.”

  Melissa looked up sharply. “On your own?”

  “I think we’re going to all work on our own projects after this album,” Jez said, taking his laptop back so he could show her something else. “I know we’re signed on to an exclusivity contract, so none of us are going to be looking to move to another label. I’m not, at least.”

  “Me either,” Geordie said. “We’ve spoken before about the DJ stuff I want to do.”

  “Yes, we have,” Melissa said slowly. “Jesus, guys, I didn’t come prepared for this.”

  “Sorry,” Summer told her.

  “No, it’s good. I need to know where you guys are so I can make sure we’re working with you for what you want to achieve.” She leaned in closer to look at whatever was on Jez’s laptop. “I suppose the main thing to tell you is that I’m on board.”

  Stan felt Ben slump in relief next to him.

  “That’s not to say we don’t have a battle to get this all signed off by the label. They’re going to push for a world tour, guys. I have to be honest with you.”

  “We understand that,” Jez said. “Can we use this stuff as leverage? Like, they’re not going to get a world tour out of us, but they will get other projects. And we’re not breaking up,” he added vehemently.