Note:
This is the last "flashback" chapter.
From here on, it's all dealing with the present.
So, if you hated these chapters, good news
for you. If they were your favourite chapters,
I'm sorry, but I assure you things are
going to get really interesting.

Caesar songs for this chapter:
Monument
Simone

/25

"Okay, guys, let's try again."

The group had been practising for weeks, trying to get used to playing together, and to the music Gary and Shannon had been writing.
They were finally able to make it through ane entire song, but something still didn't feel right to Gary, and so they played it again.

It was a simple song.
It started out slow, and as Gary breathed the words he had written into the microphone, and plucked the strings of his guitar to the notes he had chosen, he could feel the vibration of the chords, coursing across both his arms.
Only now, it was mixed with other vibrations.
He could feel the low hum of Jaime's bass in his chest, the sound of Nick's strings, almost mimicking his own, the crash of Connor's drums, washing over the room like waves.

Shannon and Paul had sat this practice out, as Shannon listened to their performance and ran ideas for additional percussion through his head.
Paul hadn't been keeping up with his keyboard practice, and didn't seem to be bothered when the song was written without him.
As much as Gary had wanted him beside him in the band, it was clear to him that it wasn't something that Paul wanted.

As the song came to an end, Gary could feel the vibrations dissipating.

"That was great, guys. It sounded perfect," He said to his band mates, before turning to Paul.
"What did you think?" He asked him.

"I wasn't really paying attention," Paul answered, a look of boredom on his face. He turned and walked toward the stairs, intending to leave the room, but Gary stopped him before he reached them.

"What's your problem?" He asked quietly, not wanting the others to think they were having an argument.
Even if Paul didn't want to be in the band, Gary had expected at least a small reaction from him. Nick had spoken to a friend of his, and had managed to book them a show at a club in the city, toward the end of summer. Gary had been incredibly happy with the news, but the immensity of the situation soon overshadowed his joy.
If they were going to be a real band, playing real shows, they would need some real songs. He'd spent countless hours with Shannon trying to write lyrics and music, something neither of them had any experience with. Now that they were finally making some progress, Paul's indifference was especially irritating to Gary.

"What? Nothing," Paul replied a bit defensively.

Gary nodded and pursed his lips.
"I just expected my boyfriend to be at least a little excited that something I really want to do is finally coming together," Gary said, getting a little defensive himself.

"Yeah, and that's great, but..." Paul said, trailing off.

"But?" Gary prodded. It was obvious to him that Paul had something that he wanted to say, and Gary wasn't going anywhere until he heard it.

Paul began to get uncomfortable with Gary's closeness. He didn't want to fight in front of the others any more than Gary did.
"Doesn't all this - the house, the band... us - doesn't it all seem a little... boring?"

Gary took a step back.
He didn't want to argue, but it looked like that was the direction they were headed in.
"So I bore you?" He asked, his voice darkening.

"No," Paul said quickly, regretting his choice of words.
"No, that's not what I meant. I meant, what we're doing- this," He said, sweeping a hand across the room. "Playing house. I mean, is this really what you want?"

"Obviously that doesn't matter- " Gary hissed, pushing past Paul to head up the stairs.

"Gary," Paul tried to interject.

" -It's not what you want." Gary continued, ignoring Paul's objections. He stopped at the top of the staircase, and turned to face Paul.
"And we all know, if we don't do what Paul wants, Paul throws a fit!"

Paul was following Gary up the stairs now, but more to escape the others, than out of a desire to continue the argument. The rest of the group could obviously hear them, though they were doing their best to pretend that they couldn't, and Paul knew that they were probably more than a little uncomfortable.

Gary was pacing in the kitchen, as Paul made his way to the top of the stairs.
"Gary, look, all I meant was- " He tried to say, but was cut off by Gary, who wasn't listening to him.

"You know what, Paul," He said, his jaw twitching, "It is what I want. The band, the house, and- " Gary stopped for a moment, the words catching in his chest.
"And us." He stopped pacing to look Paul directly in the eyes. "But if it's not what you want, then we shouldn't be wasting each other's time."

Paul was caught off guard. This definitely isn't where he saw this conversation going, and he stuttered for a moment, trying to find the right words.
"Gary, I don't want to break up or anything," He said earnestly. "I just feel like- like I'm getting left behind in all of this." His voice broke, as he tried to consolidate months of feelings into a few simple sentences.
"I mean, you're going to be so great up on stage, and I'll- I'll still be working at a movie theater." A tear rolled down his face, and he gave Gary a weak smile. "Just like when we first met," he finished, looking at the ground to keep himself from crying.

Paul's words and tears had sapped all the anger from Gary, and he now felt completely foolish for jumping so eagerly to conclusions.
"You know, every great musician needs a number one fan," he said with a thoughtful look on his face, moving closer to Paul. He placed a hand under his chin once he reached him, and gently nudged Paul's head up to face him.
"I wouldn't want anyone else as mine," He said, looking into Paul's eyes.

They kissed, and Gary promised Paul that he would never leave him behind.

The summer months sped by, highlighted by constant practising. The six boys also found themselves consistently at odds with each other, and it was clear to Gary at least, that it was more than just becoming accustomed to living with each other.
In fact, most of their problems had little to do with their living situation, and more to do with each boy's involvement with the band. All except Paul, who had removed himself from the band, saying that he'd rather be a fan.

Since Gary and Shannon had taken on the responsibility of writing all of their songs, the other boys felt that they deserved a more integral role in the band. Gary knew they were right, and he honestly thought that it was too much of a workload for just the two of them. They were struggling to write new music as it was, and with their first show getting closer with every day, they needed to come up with more than just the two whole songs they'd written.
They needed to work together.

They also needed a name.

As unbelievable as it seemed, they had managed to come this far without even thinking to name their band. As it turned out, none of them even had any ideas for a name.
None except Gary.
He'd been thinking over a few names in his head, ever since they had decided to really go through with this, and he now felt that he could settle on one. It happened that Gary was the only one of the group with real singing talent, and so he was made their reluctant frontman. A such, the others had decided to give him total control over their name, although they jokingly warned him that they reserved the right to veto his decision, if it turned out to be something "really dumb".

With a name selected, and a newfound co-operative attitude, they were able to write several new songs. And when the date of their show finally arrived, they felt more than ready.

The club that Nick had gotten them into was an underground dive, called The Acre. Gary had never heard of this place before, and was concerned that no one else would have either, and their performance would be pointless. Nick assured him that, as far as the indie scene in Manchester went, this was the best place to make your breakout.
Once they were inside, Gary was impressed by the actual number of people that were able to fit inside the club. He noted the exposed brick and fake pipes everywhere, and while he personally found this sort of decoration pretentious, it seemed to draw a good crowd.
It also seemed to perfectly fit the genre they had cast themselves into.

They were led backstage by Nick's friend who, impossibly to Gary, was even skinnier than Nick. They were shown where to load their equipment in through the back door, and given a timetable for their performance; they had less than an hour to bring in and set up their equipment, and would be performing two songs, right after Nick's friend's band, who was going on third.
They were the second to last performers of the night, but they were all filled with so much excitement, that they weren't bothered by it at all.

As they set up their gear alongside that of the other bands', Gary got a surreal feeling. He had never really expected things to happen quite like this. He never thought he'd be in a band, performing on a stage, with the greatest guy he'd ever met cheering him on from the crowd. At least, he assumed Paul would be cheering him on, later.
Several minutes passed backstage, before the first band made their way to the stage and began playing. They were evidently a very popular band in the city, though Gary had never heard of them. He had never heard of any of the groups performing with them that night, and even though several of their members were backstage with him, there were no introductions being made. It seemed to him as though they were outsiders, and the other groups didn't expect them to be around for very long.

After an hour and a half, Gary and the others were told that they'd be on next. Paul wished them all luck, gave Gary a distracting kiss, and headed out to the audience to watch their performance. Gary could hear the announcer introducing them, and he exchanged looks with the other boys that were equal parts worried and excited.
The moment came. He heard their name spoken to the crowd through the speakers.
"Caesar".
It was a name he had chosen for many reasons. The most obvious being an inspiration from the Roman Emperor. He recalled something he had said once in high school, "I sometimes imagine myself in charge of a large empire". Who had he said that to, he wondered?
It wasn't Hopkins.
Petey.
Now there was a name he hadn't thought of in a very long while. He suddenly felt confused, as though he was recalling someone else's life, or seeing his own through a camera lens. He had to shake the feeling off, it was time to walk out onto the stage.

There were lights.
Not many, but he was illuminated.
There were faces.
Many faces, looking at him, next to him, to him.
There were no sounds.
Only the pounding of blood in his ears.
He picked up his guitar, his band mates situated themselves, and with a deep breath, he played.

The house was filled with music and laughter.
None of them could believe how well they had been received at the Acre, the applause that threatened to deafen them even more than their own music had, or the breathless request from Nick's friend that they play again sometime during the month.

They were filled with such giddy elation, that they hardly noticed it was after two a.m.

The song they had chosen to open with had been a new one, one that they had just written days before the show. It was, Shannon revealed, about an ex-girlfriend of his. Whatever it was about, they all agreed that it had been the perfect song to open with. It got the crowd excited, and made a better first impression than any of them could've planned.
They talked about the other bands in the show, about the future of their own band. It was unanimously decided that night that they would pursue this as a career. They wanted more of what they had felt that night.

Eventually, they drifted off to their separate rooms to sleep, and as Gary climbed into bed behind Paul, Paul turned to him and looked him in the eye.
"I've been thinking," He said.

"Yeah?" Gary asked sleepily, running a hand down Paul's torso and stopping it at his waist.

"Actually, I've been remembering."

"Remembering what?" Gary's hand slid past Paul's waist, and found his growing erection.

Paul let out a soft moan before continuing, "About how it was... About how- we were."

Gary's hand stopped moving, and he looked up at Paul quizzically.

"You know, when we used to come home, like this," Paul continued, "And the sex we used to have. Don't you remember?" He bit his bottom lip as he look at Gary expectantly.

"No, I don't remember," Gary said flatly.
"That was part of the problem."
He knew exactly what Paul was talking about, but couldn't believe that he was bringing it up.

"We don't have to go back all the way," Paul was saying now, but Gary was already sitting up, preparing for the argument they were about to have.

"We can just, take a bump every now and then," He said, "Just to, you know, spice things up a little."
Paul started to run a finger across Gary's chest, but Gary pushed him away.

"I cannot believe you," He said. His voice was quiet, but firm.
"You're actually talking to me about going back to that?"

"It doesn't have to be like last time," Paul said.

"Right, because our 'rules' ended up working out so well," Gary retorted sarcastically. His voice was raising, as he became angrier with Paul. How could he possibly think that anything he was saying was a good idea, Gary thought to himself.
How could he think that Gary would suppourt this?

"I don't think it was that bad," Paul said defensively.

Gary whipped his head around to face Paul, his face a mix of disbelief and anger.
"It nearly killed us." He said loudly.

"Well," He continued, after thinking for a moment, "It nearly killed me. And Connor." He stood up from the bed and walked to the other side of the room, unable to be so close to Paul, right then.

"Connor made his own choice," Paul was saying, "He didn't have to do what we were doing."

"Forget it!" Gary yelled, not wanting to hear another word.
"There is no way you're going to convince me to start doing that shit, again!"

Paul looked down at the bed, "I just thought that- "

"I've spent most of my life trying to keep people from cramming shit down my throat, just to change who I am," Gary said, his voice now very loud.

"Why would you think that I would want to go back to doing that to myself?"

"I shouldn't have brought it up." Paul said quietly.

"No, you're right, you shouldn't have." Gary snapped.
"And for the record, we talked Connor into doing it with us."

"Then maybe you should be in bed with Connor," Paul said, his voice louder.

Gary raised a dismissive hand at him, "Don't even start that shit."

"No, I'm serious," Paul said, getting out of the bed and gathering his clothes.
"You care so much about Connor, you're in a band with Connor," He pulled his clothes on and snatched his hoodie from a nearby chair.
"Why don't you just go fuck Connor?"

"Fuck you." Gary hissed, menacingly.

Paul stormed out of the room, and Gary heard the front door slam shut.

The morning sun was harsh, and it was made even worse by the memories Gary had of the night before.
Paul wasn't beside him in the bed, which meant that he hadn't come home from wherever he had gone.

Gary sat up in the bed and looked around. It took a moment to sink in, but something seemed out of place. He realised, as he stood up from the bed, that Paul had come home at some point. He had come home, and taken all of his clothes.
Everything from inside the bedroom that was his, was gone.

Gary quickly left the room, not bothering to get dressed, hoping to find Paul asleep on the couch. Hoping that this was an elaborate prank to get back at him.
Paul wasn't on the couch.
He wasn't in any room of the house.
Gary went to the front door, where something caught his eye on a small table.
It was Paul's key.

He took a deep breath, forced to realise that wherever Paul had gone, whatever he gone to do, he was not planning on coming back. He thought back to their fight the previous night, and even though something in him told him it was the obvious answer, he didn't want to believe that that was what Paul had left him for.
He could take anything; another guy, that he felt neglected, that his dick wasn't big enough, anything.
Anything but that.

As he tried to convince himself that he was wrong, something else caught his attention, from the corner of his eye. It was a small triangle laying on the floor near the door. He bent down to pick it up; a guitar pick.
Nick, Jaime and himself kept their picks in a small box, they never carried them loose in their pockets. There was no way a pick could've ended up here.
A completely improbable idea suddenly entered Gary's mind.
There was no way it could be true, but he had to prove it to himself.

He bolted through the kitchen, and down the stairs to the basement, flipping on the lights as he went down. When the last of the lights flickered on, what he saw left him completely speechless.
It was impossible.
The room was entirely empty, save for a few chairs and various instrument stands. Every piece of equipment they owned was gone.

Gary's breathing sped up, he felt like he might explode.
He kicked a chair over with his bare foot, paused a second, then picked the chair up off of the floor, hurled it at the wall, and screamed.
"FUCK!"

A moment later, the other boys came rushing down the stairs.

"What's going on- " Shannon started to asked, his pink skin streaked with red from the folds of his blankets. When he looked around the room, his face dropped, " -Holy shit... Where's our stuff?"

Gary was crouched on the floor, his head in his hands.
"It's gone," He muttered through his hands, before rubbing them roughly down his face, "So is Paul."

"You're fucking kidding," Shannon said, his eyes wide in disbelief.
"where did he go?"

"I don't know." Gary answered quietly.

"That little piece of shit." Nick uttered, his hair wild from sleep.

"Nick," Shannon said disapprovingly.

"What?" Nick snapped back at him.

"No, he's right," Gary said from the floor.
"This is... so beyond uncool."

Nick tapped Jaime's bare shoulder, "Come on," He said, "There's no way he'd be stupid enough to sell that shit around here, and he's not going to get very far carrying it all, so- "

"Don't bother," Gary said, standing up, "He left his key. Wherever he went, he has no intention of ever coming back."
He looked at Nick, "And I really doubt that he pulled this off on his own."

"So what," Nick said, raising his voice, "We just let him go? With all of our shit?"

Gary sighed at Nick impatiently, "You're free to wander around all of Manchester, searching for a guy who almost definitely isn't here anymore, driving a car that we won't recognise, because we don't know what the fuck it looks like- "
He stopped himself, feeling a swell of anger rising inside of himself.

"I'm just as pissed about this as everyone else, maybe even more," He said, his voice much calmer, "I mean, he- "

Nick clenched his jaw, obviously trying to calm himself down, as well.
"No, I get it," He said, "I just- why would he do this?"

Gary shuffled his bare feet across the floor.
"We had a fight, last night," He said, "He was talking about- doing heroin, again. I don't know, maybe he'd already started doing it."

"So we're fucked." Shannon said quietly, running his hands through his curls.

No one said a word.

"Shannon's right," Jaime said, breaking the silence, "I mean, how long did it take us to get here?"

Connor stepped forward, wearing nothing but his Superman briefs.
"No," he said firmly.
"No, what did we do to get here?"

"We worked our asses off," Shannon replied bitterly.

"Right," Connor said, "So we'll work our asses off, some more."
He looked around at the rest of the group, and huffed when they didn't react to his words.
"I don't know about you guys," He continued, "But I would work my hands to the bone, to see this through. If you all can't say the same, then we're not doing what I thought we were doing, here."

"He's right." Gary said, and the others looked from Connor to him.
"Fuck Paul," He said, defiantly.
"It's gonna suck, it's going to feel like we're starting all the way from the bottom, again. But we're not."
He stepped forward, standing straighter and looking all of the other boys in the eye.
"I'm not going anywhere."

Connor moved next to Gary, putting an arm around his bare waist.
"Me neither, " He said.

Shannon shook his head, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

"You're out of your mind, Smith," He said.
Gary shrugged at him, and Shannon laughed, before standing next to the two of them, resting an arm on Gary's shoulder.

Nick looked at the three of them.
"Jesus, I can't leave you three all by yourselves," He said, "You're like helpless children."
Shannon laughed, and pulled him toward the group.
The four boys then focused their gaze on Jaime, eyebrows raised in anticipation.

Jaime rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.
"Shit," He muttered, a smile suddenly appearing on his face.

Nick pulled him into the group, and the five of them laughed.
They laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation, they laughed at the cosmic irony of it, and they laughed at how silly they all felt, standing there in their underwear.

"We should really put some clothes on," Shannon commented, "This is starting to feel pretty gay."