Chapter Text
“I thought you quit?”
Jeremy Knox billows out a stream of smoke and lowers the arm holding the cigarette between two fingers. He shoots Rhemann a sheepish smile as he says, “I did.”
Rhemann isn’t deterred by the admittance in the slightest. He sits down next to Jeremy on the stone curb close enough that their shoulders are touching. Jeremy subconsciously leans into the sturdy presence on his left side, right hand dropping the cigarette on the ground to join the pile of other snuffed-out stubs. The fading winter throws gusts of chilly winds between harsh sun rays, shattering the illusion of a perfect California climate. Jeremy squints his eyes against the light and tries not to think too hard about the ramifications of being caught.
“Don’t waste a perfectly good set of lungs. Your voice doesn’t deserve this,” Rhemann speaks when it’s silent for too long.
Jeremy closes his eyes fully. “I know. I wasn’t lying when I said I quit. It’s just…” He trails off, unsure how to articulate the complex root of his issue. Feeling like there’s no choice but to fall back on an old habit seems weak to say out loud. Only doing it once for old times’ sake is a naive excuse. Not wanting to waste the cigarette box he bought almost a year ago is an even worse excuse, since they’re set to go stale in no time. Telling the full truth is also out of question, because confessing he smoked so he wouldn’t partake in a trashy hookup again would reveal he has problems less desirable than lung disease.
Rhemann doesn’t chastise him for omitting the truth; he never does. “Wilshire again?” He asks as a light guess, and Jeremy’s silence is telling enough.
“C’mon,” Rhemann orders, grabbing Jeremy’s shoulders to pull him up. Jeremy relents and slowly reopens his eyes as he’s dragged away from the isolated farmhouse and back on the trail leading toward Sunshine Garage. They pass by the landowner’s home on the way, and Adi waves at them from where he’s watering plants on the patio. Rhemann calls out a greeting, and Jeremy tries not to let his adoration drown under the pressure of jealousy. He owes the couple his life and would never hesitate to go to them for help if he truly needs it—truly, as in rarely, because Jeremy is dealing with everything just fine right now.
As the dirt trail splits, they make a right turn away from the large plot of fenced-off thin grass reserved for parking. The more popular Trojan Horse gets, the larger the need to pave all that nature down with flat cement, but Rhemann refuses to destroy what came before them. It’d be endearing if he wasn’t like that with every other part of his old-school lifestyle; even Adi jokes about his partner’s nostalgic blindness sometimes.
So instead of creating modern roads like most growing garage bands do, they hired landscapers to thin out grass and build fences for parking and mow down to dirt for walkways. Since Adi got the massive plot of land passed down to him, they’re free to do whatever they want to make changes. With his and Rhemann’s house at the center, they both decided to split it in half; the left side of the house is reserved for the small farm, and the larger, more embellished side houses the Sunshine Garage and its many accommodations.
Jeremy still can’t believe the magic, even after seeing it every day for over two years. He walks down the small hill and revels in the size of what used to be a simple shipping container. Together, with the help of enthusiastic locals, Trojan Horse built an entire stage out of old walls and recycled parts. half the size of a football field. almost the width of an Exy court. an entire half-open stage. He’s shocked they made it this far each time.
“Still starstruck?” Laila jests, nearly scaring the light out of him with how quickly she appeared. He hears laughter behind her and can feel Rhemann’s weighted gaze on the side of his head.
He takes too long to respond. She drags him away from Rhemann with a knowing look, and Jeremy throws himself into the interaction with a curt, “Every time.”
“Don’t worry, me too. And you know how Cat is every time she gets up on stage. Speaking of…” She fishes out her phone and flips it open to show him a text message. “Cat went out on her bike again after lunch to fish for more road signs. She sent me this about half an hour ago!”
Laila shoves her phone into his face. Jeremy uses his hand to shield the screen from the sun, grinning when he sees the grainy photo. Underneath a “look at what i found babe!” is a photo of Cat holding up a rectangular sign titled “PLEASE DO NOT FEED ME” above an image of a distressed waterfowl.
“Do I even wanna know where she got that?” Jeremy asks.
Laila laughs and takes a moment to send a text message back. “No idea. She did say she was going to dig around dumpsters near the abandoned pier though, so she probably found it there.”
Jeremy grins, trying to imagine such a ridiculous sign displayed behind the stage. “Do we even have waterfowl in California?”
“Jeremy, I love you, but waterfowl just means ducks that live near water. Of course we do.”
“Ok, ok, we get it, you’re a nerd—”
“So are you! Mr. “I ace all my LSAT practice—”
She doesn’t finish the sentence, cutting herself off with an immediate remorseful look. Jeremy ignores her regret in favor of flashing her a genuine smile. “Don’t sweat it. We’re just different types of nerds, yeah? Let’s leave it at that.”
“Right…” Jeremy watches her swallow and send another text to Cat. He hates thinking about what his parents tried to force him to do, but he hates seeing his friends upset even more, so he continues saying, “Good news is, I think there’s a perfect spot where one of our old rusted signs had to be taken down. Why don’t you see if Cody can help you decipher its spot?”
Laila’s brightness returns, and she shoots him a thumbs-up. “On it, boss!”
As she skips back down the hill toward Cody, Rhemann puts a hand on his shoulder. He half expects a lecture, but he only tells Jeremy, “Take care at practice. I have some business to take care of.”
“Thank you,” Jeremy answers, and hopes the sincerity in his tone is enough to convey what two words could never.
Rhemann smiles and wanders back off. He doesn’t have to say it, but Jeremy knows the older man understands what he’s trying to say. When Laila calls back over to him, Jeremy jogs down the hill to where most of the crew are meandering around Sunshine Garage.
The half-open stage was strategically placed to have the sunset hit their faces when performing, so the entire back wall glimmers in a bright orange as the afternoon passes by. It hurts to look at the sun’s reflection bouncing off metal, but an audience of enthusiastic fans squinting up at the stage always gives the illusion of them shining rays of light; their entire image is the pain hidden beneath sunshine—deceiving people with kindness.
“Crazy, right?” Xavier asks when Jeremy hops onto the stage. Xavier fiddles with nubs on one of the amps, and Jeremy drags a spare foldable chair over to collapse in front of a mic stand. With Cat still out and it being a Sunday, their practice for the rest of the evening should be light.
Jeremy grabs the guitar that had already been balancing on a stand and sits down to start tuning. “What is?” He eventually asks.
“This,” Xavier says as he gestures, “I saw your lovestruck look. Glad you’re not getting tired of us yet.”
“I could never!” Jeremy laughs and means it when he says it. They still have their hiccups here and there, but they’ve come so far that he refuses to consider them all anything but family.
“Yeah, well, Jillian did,” Laila chirps in and sits on the stage floor near Xavier. right. her.
Jeremy still remembers the resignation letter and regretful look as she declared her movement to another country. He doesn’t hold it against her, but losing their number one bassist had been rough. Over the past month since her departure, they’ve settled for substitutes, but no one else has come close to her skill. The fans are as supportive as ever, of course, and no one on Trojan Horse ever says anything.
But that doesn’t mean the lingering tension isn’t there, and what’s left unsaid usually ends up being the loudest.
“She was your housemate and best friend,” Jeremy reminds Laila with a lighthearted jest. She sticks her tongue out at him and goes back to typing on her phone.
“Maybe she got tired of third-wheeling you and Cat,” Cody says as they approach with the tools for altering the garage. They set it down toward the back of the stage and walk over as Laila argues with them.
Jeremy watches with a comfortable silence. Moments like these remind him of why he chose music over his predetermined future in the first place. It hadn’t been easy, and he’s still on a leash, albeit a looser one, but just existing in such contentment and trust is enough to make the compromise worth it. When his mind drifts too far out where hidden emotions wait with belated breaths, he coughs and re-focuses on the strings under calloused fingers.
He messes around a bit before snagging a guitar pick from his pocket once he’s confident in how it’s tuned. With it not connected to any amps or speakers, the sounds it produces are smaller. They are calmer. They are the setting sun slowly disappearing behind the horizon line of the hill, and not the darkness that comes after it. He strums lazily for a few seconds, wondering what he should work on first.
“Wanna run our setlist opener for this Saturday?” Xavier asks from the floor behind him. “I got new cables yesterday since our old ones were starting to corrode. I swear it’s from everyone always stepping on them.”
Jeremy grins and says, “Sure.” Xavier gets up to hand him his end of the cable that he plugs right into his guitar. When he’s given the thumbs up, Jeremy easily plays out a chord progression that vibrates the floor and shakes the spare water bottles plastered about the stage. Everyone turns to look at the source of the loud noise, shooting wide grins and enthusiastic hollers as the speakers blast his instrument.
“Sound good?” Jeremy asks.
Xavier smiles wide and proud. “Like nothing ever changed.”
“Should we get new speakers too? We’ve had this one since we used to be The Floozies,” Laila says as she inspects the wide speaker placed in the center on the floor beneath the drum set.
Cody gasps and runs to put an arm across the speaker protectively. “I’ve had this since before we even met at USC! If you lot need to upgrade, fine, but just don’t throw it out.”
“Maybe you can throw some graffiti on the front and place it next to our giant traffic cone,” Min suggests over her shoulder as she walks toward the break room door.
Jeremy looks to the spot right in the middle of other mismatched knick-knacks and laughs. “This really is a wayward garage.”
“And that’s why everyone loves it,” Laila responds with a wink. Jeremy opens his mouth to joke back, but freezes when his phone rings. His jaw locks in an awkward drop as a fox barking ringtone breaks the light atmosphere. He has specific call and notification sounds for each of his friends, and this is one he thought he’d never hear again.
“Isn’t that…”
“I need to take this,” Jeremy says, waving off Cat’s concern and hastily standing up. He nearly trips over a TS cable on his way off the stage and ignores Xavier’s lighthearted cry of dismay. Jeremy shouts an unnecessary apology over his shoulder and jogs to the side door leading to the break room. When he enters, Min looks at him curiously, so he continues further out the second door leading outside.
“Hello?” Jeremy answers once he’s outside, heart pounding from both fleeing and in anticipation of weary news. He walks back and forth instead of standing still, using the movement as a release for his nervous energy. A voice he hasn’t heard in a while greets him; the last time he heard it, it hadn’t been good.
“It’s been a while, Jeremy,” Kevin Day, lead guitarist for FOXƧS, answers. After meeting at a gig when Kevin used to be a part of Evermore, they’ve hit it off ever since, constantly exchanging upcoming news about the garage band scene or exchanging tips from one guitarist to another.
Except that had been over text, and the last time Kevin had called had been him admitting through panicked breaths that Riko broke his hand. Jeremy still remembers the articles—Kevin Day injured in a skiing accident, an ex-Evermore stage crew member hinting at something worse, Kevin Day leaves Evermore and Riko behind. Having to pretend he didn’t know the truth left the taste of bile in his mouth for weeks, but Kevin’s fearful cries of never being able to play guitar ever again lasted longer.
That didn’t happen, of course, because not only did Kevin fully heal to the extent of playing just like he used to, but during the healing process, he had become a master of playing with his non-dominant hand. Jeremy had supported him nonstop throughout the process to the point of the FOXƧS and Trojan Horse becoming heavily associated with one another. The other members still remain strangers to each other, but on the outside, their support is a factor in both of their never-ending growth.
Kevin doesn’t take kindly to his reminiscent silence, saying, “Is now a good time? Can you hear me?”
Jeremy coughs and tries not to crave the burn of a freshly-lit cigarette. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. What’s up?”
“It’s about your band. You’re looking for a new lead bassist because your old one moved overseas, right? I have one for you.”
“Straight to the point as ever. Couldn’t have let me know through text?”
Kevin pauses for a moment, and Jeremy swears he heard something muttered in a foreign language. “Sorry, I keep being interrupted—” he spits out the last word as if it personally offended him, “but no, this isn’t a texting matter.”
“I see,” Jeremy speaks out against his own anxiety. “So who is this mysterious person you’re trying to recruit into my band?”
A beat of silence. Then a quiet, “Jean Moreau.”
Jeremy pauses his pacing in an ungraceful halt. His phone weighs heavily in his right hand, and he really, truly, wants it to be another cigarette right now.
“Jean Moreau,” Jeremy repeats, as if saying the name again would make it any less truthful.
“Yes, Jean Moreau. Don’t tell me you don’t know who that is.”
Of course Jeremy knows who that is—who doesn’t? Evermore’s lead bassist, numbered as three, constantly duo-playing with Kevin and backing Riko’s vocals with gut-wrenching screams. The three of them gained fame as being “perfect stage” right at the peak of Evermore’s fame. Even as rotations switched and new members got introduced for experimental songs and further reach, no one ever forgot about the staple three.
Then Kevin left, and it became just Jean and Riko for a whole year.
Jeremy had been so caught up in his own band’s performances and schedule that he barely paid attention to Evermore’s rapid decline since the end of last year, save for the extreme bits and pieces of news he shoved away in the back of his mind; Jeremy struggles to decipher if that’s a testament to his business or Moriyama Enterprises’ expert control over scandals. Evermore’s Halloweenfest in late October, straight from the Nest in West Virginia, had been the last time Jeremy remembered seeing Jean on stage. “Healing his throat” had been the one-off explanation that allowed Jean to fade into the background.
Jeremy hadn’t sweat the details because Riko’s announced suicide at the start of the new year swept everyone off their feet. Evermore went on a hiatus, and two months later, Kevin called him to offer up Jean on a silver platter. It’s too surreal for him to fathom right away.
The silence stretches on too long. Kevin swears in that foreign language again—French, perhaps—and tries to explain himself. “Listen, I know the circumstances are sudden and extreme, but so were mine. Look at how that turned out. You know I’d never turn down a good instrumentalist, but Jean can’t be with us. He’ll do what you need him to do. Someone like you will be good for him.”
Jeremy nods as if Kevin can see him. someone like me. It’s almost ridiculous how warming those words feel coming from Kevin’s mouth. Kevin Day, who’s notorious for his sharp tongue and deep criticisms, hands Jeremy words of high praise; he instinctively guesses something larger is at play here, but chooses not to question it.
So Jeremy resigns to his fate and says, “If you trust him, then I will too. The gang’s been itching for a replacement anyway. When do you think he’ll fly out here?”
Kevin is silent for a suspicious moment. “He should be arriving on the West Coast tonight. Maybe 11 pm your time, I think.”
“What?!” Jeremy yells out in shock. When Min peeks her head out the door in concern, Jeremy waves her off and prays she hasn’t been paying attention to their conversation.
“I know it’s fast, but we can’t hold him here in South Carolina any longer. We’re about to start our East Coast tour, and he can’t be left alone. Wymack bought the plane tickets only an hour ago.”
Jeremy stands as if the roots from the weeds nearby have crawled over his foot and cemented his shoes into the dirt. Every twitch of his muscles, every breath he lets out, exists as a lesser to the distressed knot in his mind. The Jean Moreau is likely already on a plane to California, and Jeremy has less than eight hours to prepare for his arrival. Rhemann and Adi can probably host him for a while, but the mere thought of that conversation sends his stomach twisting. Jeremy’s shallow agreement with his family means Jean staying at the mansion is way out of the question, which leaves Cat and Laila as the only other viable option, since Jillian left an empty room at their house anyway. Everyone else either lives too far from the farm to be of use or has their own problems going on.
“Jeremy?” Kevin’s voice cuts through his stupor. “Are you there? I have to finish packing soon.”
“I’m here! Just trying to, ah, process it all. Just text me his flight information, and I’ll sort out the rest.”
“Right. Thank you.”
Kevin hangs up, and Jeremy is left to reassemble the pieces shattered by the unexpected news. He doesn’t perceive it as bad, per se; it’s certainly not as tragic as their last call. However, Jeremy knows little to nothing about Jean Moreau outside of what Evermore advertises him as. Even Kevin barely talks about him despite them being close bandmates for around three years.
Jeremy shakes off the details with a heavy sigh—no sense in tackling it alone.
“Jeremy! Are you back?” Min calls out when Jeremy emerges back into the garage. Xavier waves him over to the open entrance, where Lucas stands next to him with a camera around his neck.
“Lucas?” Jeremy calls out as he jogs over to meet them. “What brings you here?”
Lucas points to the new sign Cody is nailing into the garage’s wall of collected street signs right behind the stage. Cat must’ve returned while he took the call. “Photographing the process of making art. Or, that’s what Cody called it. They know more about art than me.”
“Isn’t photography art?” Xavier asks with a playful push.
“Yes, but they’re Cody.”
Xavier laughs and responds with, “Touche.”
Jeremy allows them to continue what they’re doing before he drops the sudden news. Lucas kneels at the foot of the stage to capture Cody drilling the ridiculous new sign in an empty spot near the bottom portion of the large wall. Laila hands them screws while Cat takes photos on her own phone. Xavier walks over to Min to chat with affection, and Jeremy tries his hardest to figure out the future in the next ten seconds.
He thinks of Jean and how he’d fit into the picture the Trojans have fought so hard to make for themselves. Would he be as violent as the rumors say? Would his soul-wrenching metal screams interrupt their upbeat flow? Would Jean slide to his knees below Jeremy, blasting low and smooth riffs as a taunt to Jeremy’s own struggle with control? Jeremy knows only of shady articles and stalker photos of Evermore’s behavior behind the scenes; they’re infamous for their cult-like production process as much as they are popular for their talent. At the end of the day, that’s all they are—rumors.
but so were mine. and they were true.
“Jeremy?”
He blinks and realizes Cat had called out to him.
“Jean Moreau is going to be our new bassist,” Jeremy blurts out because holding it in has been driving him crazy, and he needed to get it out before he burst.
The reaction is as expected: Laila drops the bin of screws and Cat screeches in complete surprise. Cody looks completely taken aback, which isn’t surprising considering their bigoted cousin is a part of Evermore. Xavier and Min exchange silent glances without speaking, and Lucas—the crew member who also has a relative on Evermore—looks at Jeremy like he grew a tail and sprouted wings.
“Jeremy. My man. Y’know I love you,” Cody is the first to break the delicate silence, “but what the actual fuck?”
“Ok wait, let me explain!” Jeremy puts his hands up so no one asks anymore questions. “Kevin called just now to tell me Jean needs a new band. Don’t ask me why because I don’t know. I only know that he’s arriving here tonight—”
“Tonight?!” Cat yells, and Laila doesn’t try to calm her down this time.
Xavier, bless his soul, tries to help out with damage control. “I mean, we do need a new lead bassist, right? And if it doesn’t work, he just won’t join, simple as that. Tonight is fast, though. Did Kevin say why?”
Jeremy nods in relief and says, “FOXƧS are leaving for their East Coast tour and can’t watch him. I assume that means Jean has been staying with them, but I wasn’t told anything further than that. You guys worry about adjusting to the news, I’ll be the one in charge of settling him in.”
Everyone nods at their own pace, taking the time to let the sudden change sink in. Lucas, who’d been idly fidgeting at the side the whole time, tries to argue. “But he is a Raven.”
“Was,” Jeremy stresses. “Not is, was. Let’s just see how it goes before we knock it, yeah? Who knows! Maybe he’ll be exactly what we’ve been looking for this whole time.”
“Will he fit?” Cody asks. “I say it as a genuine question. Evermore is known for only having one singer, and we’re like, known for the complete opposite. I don’t think Jean has ever sung before.”
“He does metal screams all the time?” Min questions.
Xavier shakes his head. “Not the same, love. Don’t get me wrong, the screaming is dope as hell, but it’s not really,” he gestures to the whole group, “us.”
“I think we could make it work!” Cat jumps in with an optimistic smile, “I’m sure there’s some way we can adapt to him or vice versa. We’ve done it before.”
“But his play-style is so aggressive! Surely, you’ve all heard the rumors of how he became Perfect Stage in the first place. And Grayson—” Lucas cuts himself off at the mention of his brother. Cody walks over to put a hand over his shoulder; having relatives in Evermore makes the situation all the more complicated, and they both know that struggle too well.
“I know, Lucas,” Jeremy sighs and tries to sort his own thoughts alongside the words he needs to say. “But Kevin knows this guy better than we do, and if he says Jean will fit, I believe him. You all don’t have to be best friends right away, but at least try to make it work. If there are issues, we will work through them like we always do, and if it really doesn't seem possible, I’ll handle it.”
Xavier hooks an arm around Min’s shoulder and says, “I’m more shocked than worried. There hasn’t been any news about Evermore at all since Riko’s death. And now their third star member is suddenly transferring to a band across the country? Why was he staying with FOXƧS in the first place?”
“Don’t you think it’s sketchy? Two of Evermore’s best members leaving a year apart before Riko kills himself?” Min adds to the ever-growing questions with innocent curiosity.
“I can scavenge the internet for juicy articles when I get back to my place,” Cat says. “I bet I can find something.”
“Or we can just ask him when we meet him?” Xavier chips in.
The Trojans continue to argue about what to do and what the possible circumstances could be for such an abrupt and unexpected transfer. Jeremy thinks about Rhemann and his first year when they used to be called The Floozies, and makes a decision: “Listen, I know firsthand what it’s like trying to fit into something you’re not. Let’s just give him a try? We do need a new bassist, and his talent is no joke.”
Some nod while others hold their tongues. This isn’t Trojan Horse’s first conflict, and certainly won’t be the last, but Jeremy’s hunch tells him this won’t be remotely easy. He almost wishes he was back at home tearing up the LSAT results and limping up wooden patio steps to a concerned Rhemann—what’s unknown is always scarier than what he’s lived all his life bracing for.
Cody ends the silence and asks, “Does Rhemann know?”
“Do I know what?” Rhemann asks from behind him because that’s been Jeremy’s luck the whole day.
Jeremy rubs his hands down his face and tries not to envision the shape of the cigarette box still in his right pocket. “Can we talk at your place? You guys can test the new cables without me. There’s more stuff I need to discuss with Rhemann.”
No one protests, so Jeremy finds himself strolling up the dirt paths alongside Rhemann once more. By now, the sky has faded into a nice faded blue with hints of orange, which Jeremy curiously studies as he walks in favor of ignoring the heavy silence between them. Birds chirp and leaves rustle, but their journey to the house in the middle of the plot of land remains silent otherwise.
The wooden steps creak under Jeremy’s shoes as he walks up to the porch. Rhemann unlocks the front door and calls out inside the house. When Adi doesn’t answer, they walk into the silence with an awkward air.
“C’mon. Talk to me,” Rhemann says as he pours a glass of water. He offers it to Jeremy, who takes it and stares at the dim reflection of his uncertain eyes in the serene surface. He leans against the kitchen counter with the cup in hand while Rhemann roams about around him, likely making dinner for when Adi comes home from his errands.
“Kevin called me,” Jeremy starts, pausing to take a sip of water. “Said he knows someone who can fill our lead bassist spot.
Rhemann pauses to look at him curiously. “He’s your friend, right? How are he and the FOXƧS doing?”
“Good. They’re about to go on an East Coast tour.” Jeremy follows up his answer with another large swig of water. He knows Rhemann is stalling to give him some time to relax; he doesn’t know why he’s so afraid of telling the truth. Rhemann is one of the most understanding men Jeremy’s ever met, so he doesn’t doubt he’ll accept Jean without rebuttal. i doubt myself.
As Rhemann eyes him patiently, Jeremy swallows down the uncertainty and comes clean: “Kevin said Jean Moreau should join Trojan Horse.”
Rhemann’s neutral expression cracks ever so slightly. “Oh.”
“Yeah!” Jeremy laughs sheepishly. “Crazy, isn’t it?”
Neither of them speak for a moment. Jeremy knows this isn’t the craziest sentence that’s come out of his mouth, but it’s certainly one of the most surprising. Kevin leaving Evermore had been controversial enough to take up gossip and headlines for months. Riko’s suicide is still at the peak of its popularity and is constantly taking up interview topics and scene talk. With Jean crusading under the radar for months, his sudden reappearance as part of another band is sure to cause a stir. They both know the dilemma has less to do with Jean Moreau as a person and more to do with Trojan Horse’s reputation.
“What do you think?” Rhemann asks. He shows no sign of dismissal or disgust, which makes it easier for Jeremy to be honest. He clutches his now-empty glass of water tightly and rants: “I don’t know. I mean, we’re always open to helping those who need it. Just look at me, right? I’d love to have him on, and there’s no denying the talent in how he plays. But…”
Jeremy inhales sharply and tries to get through the next part of his worries. “We worked so hard to get where we are. Is it bad I’m worried about breaking what we’ve become? I’ll welcome him in regardless without hesitation because that’s what Trojan Horse does, but I feel a bit scared.”
It’s the rawest he’s spoken in months. Rhemann walks over to put a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder and say, “That’s part of what makes you all special, Jeremy. It’s not that you’re perfect sunshine and rainbows; it’s that you fight to hone such ideals despite what you all go through. They’ll take time to warm up to him, as will you and I most likely, but my answer is yes.”
Jeremy’s knees nearly give out on him in respite. “Thank you. Seriously, thank you. I’ll try my best to ease him in, but I’m honestly unsure where to start.”
Rhemann turns his attention back to preparing dinner as he speaks. “Take a day off to get him accustomed to the area. I’m sure California’s vastly different from West Virginia. I’ll talk with our coaching and training staff too, and see what we can do to assess him. As a bassist, I have no doubts he can play any chords you throw at him, but it’s the singing I’m worried about.”
Jeremy is also unsure how a metal scream expert would sound in their harmonious codas or emotional duets. While being mostly known for pop punk, they’ve experimented with enough people and genres to be diverse, but still not enough to have a perfect slot for someone like Jean.“Evermore has strict training, so I assume Jean would know enough basics to sing outside of screaming.”
“I’ll talk to Lisinski about vocal assessment. We won’t know until he gets here, so for now, just focus on figuring out his accommodations. When is he arriving?”
oh. right.
“Tonight,” Jeremy admits bluntly, because the initial fear of telling Rhemann has vanished, but an uneasy energy still lingers; he’s starting to get tired and wants to erase the nerves of extreme change by getting it over with. The faster they figure this out, the more time Jeremy has to prepare to meet Jean face to face, and the quicker he has an excuse to not go back to his own home.
Rhemann expresses more outward shock at that, eyes widening in an incredulous expression. “And Kevin gave you no warning?”
“Nope.” Jeremy shakes his head. He’d almost laugh at Kevin’s ridiculous confidence if it didn’t mean he trusted Jeremy enough to know that he’d accept Jean without question. Jeremy stares out the window to where the sun is almost fully dipped underneath the horizon, and wonders what Jean sees right now outside of his plane. Would the sun be higher up? Would he be asleep and staring into the back of his lids? Such humane questions spark way too much intrigue for a mystery as notorious as Jean Moreau.
When Adi eventually pops in, not even a few minutes later, the three of them settle at the dining room table to discuss the issue over food. Jeremy didn’t need to be asked if he wanted a portion of dinner reserved for him; he never does. Rhemann and Adi have both explicitly expressed that he is welcome whenever, and Jeremy has taken them up on that over more times than he wants to admit.
They settle on Jean staying with the two of them for a while. The guest room is big enough that they can set up a blow-up mattress next to the bed that Jeremy has been calling his for a few years now. If Jean isn’t comfortable with that, Jeremy is also more than willing to crash on the living room couch despite their protests. He finds solace in couch hopping—a nostalgia for how far he’s come from those days, and a comfort that’s never left.
Jeremy expresses his gratitude for Rhemann and Adi’s never-ending kindness. They’ve done so much for both him and Trojan Horse already that anytime they go above and beyond with their generosity, Jeremy feels bad for not doing anything in return. They can tell him he doesn’t need to do anything all they want; he constantly fights to figure out what he can do to pay them back.
just keep doing the good work you’re doing.
keep being you.
How conflicting, in a world where freedom exists as a selfish desire and not a gift to give out to those who’ve been fighting too hard for such a novel concept. Rhemann and Adi’s journey to creating Trojan Horse hadn’t been easy in the slightest, and Jeremy will do anything to preserve that happiness, even if it means pursuing his own.
Dinner continues on through specifics: Jeremy finally harasses the flight details out of Kevin and agrees to pick him up from the airport alone. Hopefully, in the forty-five-minute drive from LAX to their plot of land away from the bulk of the city, they’ll get acquainted enough to ease Jean into staying at Rhemann and Adi’s place temporarily. They agreed to keep their relationship a secret for now, and that he’ll meet the rest of Trojan Horse one by one instead of all at once.
Rhemann promises to contact Wymack to see if he can press a bit more details. With only violent rumors and unsettling gossip to go on, Jean will remain a mystery until Jeremy can put a real, human body to the famous name. He never talks during interviews either, which further fuels his curiosity.
Now that they have a plan, the rest of the night flows smoothly. Rhemann cleans up the dishes while Adi picks out food for Jean to eat if he’s hungry when he arrives. They work expertly around each other with subtly woven affection, existing in each other’s space as if the universe decided that’s what is right.
Jeremy watches them with ease and finally relaxes knowing Jean will be in good hands. The future might be as bleak as everyone expects it to be, but for now, the night seems promising.