Published: August 26, 2020

Track 26: The "L-Word"

An orchestral recording of Saint-Saens' "The Carnival of the Animals" played softly throughout the dining room. The classical music was just loud enough to be heard over the noise of silverware clinking and people conversing. Fidgeting in her seat, Raven did her best not to show how uncomfortable she was. Beside her, Garfield sat rigidly upon a plush, velvet chair. His far too casual baseball cap and sunglasses rested next to the formal cutlery setting on the table. Although he wore a fairly nice outfit, the musician looked distinctly out of place amongst the other patrons. Women flaunted designer handbags and shoes while men donned silk ties and bespoke suits.

Across the table, Raven's former employer looked as cool as a cucumber. She had forgotten how much she hated that smug bastard's arrogance. Based on the thick fabric of the napkins and lack of prices on the menu, the talent agent had purposefully brought them to an extremely high-end restaurant. The not-so-subtle move reminded Raven of the man's tendency to show off his power and status. After they ordered their food, the waiter poured out three glasses of wine. Mr. Wilson extended his arm for a toast and said, "To health, wealth and prosperity."

Raven wordlessly touched her glass to those of Slade and Garfield. The trio took a collective sip and as the liquid trickled down her throat, the Titans' manager prepared herself for the tense meal that was to unfold. The conversation started innocently with mindless chit chat. How were they finding the weather in Dallas? Which tour cities did they prefer the most so far? She let Garfield do the bulk of the talking since between the two of them, he was more congenial anyway. Raven knew from experience that one needed to be on their best behaviour around the media mogul, and she feared her hostility would show if she spoke. The small talk continued until their plates arrived. Inevitably, the topic changed to business.

"I heard that your album went Platinum recently," Mr. Wilson said with a tip of his glass. "Congratulations."

"Yeah, just before we started the tour!" Garfield proudly replied.

"Do you plan on releasing new music soon?"

"We're taking things one step at a time," Raven answered carefully, somewhat distrustful of the line of questioning.

The older man turned his attention to her and said, "How prudent of you. You must be very proud of your money makers."

"I am proud of my clients, but not for that reason," she said through gritted teeth. "They are exceptionally talented and hard-working, Mr. Wilson. It's an honour to represent them."

"Why are we being so formal with each other, my dear? Call me Slade."

Raven narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. In the six months of her internship at his entertainment company, she had never addressed the man by his first name. A warning siren went off in her mind, but she did her best to remain impassive.

"I must say, I am quite impressed," he continued. "The Titans have accomplished quite a lot for such short careers."

"Well, I have no doubt that they have a long and successful future ahead of them."

"Of course. It would be such a shame if they were a mere flash in the pan."

From the corner of her eye, Raven could see Garfield's gaze rapidly flick between the two of them. Slade seemed to remember that a third person was present, for he turned to their spectator and said, "Did you know that Raven still holds the record for being my most ruthless intern? I imagine that she works you like a slave driver. "

"Not at all," admonished Garfield, who now looked offended on her behalf. "Rae's the best boss a guy could ask for! She takes excellent care of us."

If Raven thought she could get away with it unnoticed, she would have kicked the musician under the table for using her nickname. Instead, she smoothed her face to an expression devoid of all emotion. "I'm just doing my job, Mr. Logan," she said, making sure to emphasize her last words. Hopefully, Garfield would understand that now was not the time to be so relaxed.

"It sounds like she provides wonderful service," remarked the older man, wiping his mouth demurely after a bite of rare steak. "Tell me, what kind of perks are you getting with Nevermore Records that makes you such a satisfied client?"

Raven's blood ran cold at the predatory grin that Slade currently pointed in Garfield's direction. His thinly veiled question was loaded with suspicious intent. It was obvious that he was trying to fish information out of them. Manipulation and intimidation had always been Slade's main tactics for getting what he wanted. With his charisma and overpowering nature, he could coerce almost anyone into doing his bidding, no questions asked. To her relief, Garfield took the interrogation in stride.

"She gives us a generous royalty rate and full creative control," he answered confidently, "not to mention health insurance, dental included." As if to prove his point, the musician flashed a toothy smile at Slade before raising a forkful of salad and sticking it in his mouth. Though Garfield didn't eat meat, the gesture was akin to baring his teeth like a carnivorous beast. Slade's brows twitched with annoyance in response to the challenge. He leaned forward to rest an elbow on the table and prop his chin on his fist. His piercing gaze flicked from the guitarist to Raven.

"Fascinating. I never thought that you would go soft."

"If treating my clients with dignity and respect is 'soft', then yes, I suppose I have."

"Well from what I'm hearing, you certainly give special treatment, don't you?"

Raven had just about enough of Slade's snide remarks. "Are you trying to insinuate something, Mr. Wilson? Because frankly, I was never one for riddles."

"It's Slade, dear, remember? And of course not! If anything, I commend you for your management skills. Especially for someone so... inexperienced. It's a big job for any man, let alone a woman."

Raven stopped herself just in time before she gave him a piece of her mind. It took all of her self-control not to snap back in rage. Next to her, Garfield tensed and his eyes flashed with protective anger.

"Irregardless of age or gender, Ms. Roth is the best at what she does! No one works harder than her."

"'Irregardless' isn't a real word, my boy. The prefix 'ir-' and suffix '-less' are redundant," Slade stated with a patronizing smirk. "So, back to you. How are you enjoying the fame? According to the media, you've made quite the impression on the female demographic."

"Oh, well... um, er..." Garfield sputtered, his face flushing in embarrassment.

"I have to admit, I envy your youth. Playing the field only gets harder as you get older."

Baffled, Garfield gaped at Slade while the older man simply laughed with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I don't fraternize with fans-"

"-Trust me, enjoy the attention while you can. Fame is fleeting and riches are finite," Slade interrupted, swishing the remaining wine in his glass before gulping it down. "And speaking of money, I hope you've come up with a good investment plan for your current earnings. The music business can love you one day and hate you the next, just like a fickle woman. And you know all about fickle women, don't you, Gar?"

Neither Raven nor Garfield missed the malice in his tone. Mentioning Tara was a cheap shot, but Raven held herself back from retaliating. She was used to hiding her reactions towards Slade's biting words, but Garfield openly looked like he was ready to blow a fuse. The manager gave her client a warning shake of her head and willed him not to do or say anything rash. She could hardly wait until this meal was over and done with. When the waiter cleared their empty plates and asked about the number of cheques, Raven opened her mouth to speak. However, Slade cut her off. "Just one bill. Like I said, it's my treat."

"Thank you," Raven forced herself to say while Garfield nodded begrudgingly in agreement.

"After all, I wouldn't want you youngins stretching your pockets too far," he murmured, giving Garfield's outfit a once over, "especially when you have the 'starving artist' aesthetic to uphold."

"You know what? I've got this," Garfield snappily announced. He reached over the table to grab the leather booklet that held the bill. After whipping out his wallet, he stuck his credit card into the clear pocket and handed it to the waiter.

Slade raised his eyebrows before giving the musician an amused grin. "In that case, I'll take my leave. I have a business meeting I need to get to."

The pair of Titans watched as Slade stood up to button his suit jacket and smooth down the lapels. Before exiting the restaurant, he turned around one last time to give Raven a surreptitious wink. A sense of foreboding washed over her like a bucket of ice water. Once Slade was out of sight, she released the breath that she had been holding unconsciously. While Raven's shoulders drooped wearily into her seat, Garfield sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He said, "Wow. I can't believe you used to work for that asshole."

"Tell me about it," she groaned back.

The waiter returned with the bill holder in his hand and murmured, "Excuse me, sir. There seems to be an issue with payment."

"What's wrong?" asked Garfield.

"Your credit card has been declined."

Sure enough, Gar's monthly credit was maxed out. He thought about all of the expensive dishes he had ordered over the tour, as well as the very pricey first date in New York City. The food would eventually be reimbursed by company funds and the musical tickets were a one time deal. Nevertheless, Gar felt thoroughly embarrassed. He demanded that the waiter try his card again, but after the third decline, he gave up. In the end, it was Raven who paid off the ridiculously hefty bill. The three main dishes, a single bottle of wine and a sizable tip came out to just over five hundred dollars. Stupid, fancy restaurant with its stupid, fancy prices. To make things worse, Raven's unimpressed expression was burned into his memory. She assured him that it wasn't a big deal, but his ego was too bruised to believe her.

Understandably, things were tense and quiet as they made the short walk back to the hotel. Gar's self-esteem had completely evaporated and he could only imagine how upset Raven was feeling after Slade's maltreatment. Just before running into the man on the street, Gar had been ready to say the "L-word". But now, he hesitated. For one thing, he didn't want it to seem as though he was overcompensating for the awful experience they just went through. For another, he felt totally unworthy of Raven at the moment. Insecurity gripped him as he considered all of the implications of what Slade said. "Fame is fleeting and riches are finite", or in his foster father's words, "15 minutes of fame won't last forever". Gar wasn't stupid, he knew that his new life could be overturned at any moment. All it would take was one bad review, one misstep on social media, or one juicy scandal...

Raven had asked him several times if he was willing to risk his career for them to be together. He said yes without thinking, but today, he finally considered what that actually meant. If he wasn't a successful musician, who was he? Just some dude with not that much to give. And would "some dude" ever be enough? Lunch in the restaurant reminded him of how he and Raven were on totally different levels. She looked perfectly at home in that environment, with her polished exterior and refined table manners. She must have gotten etiquette lessons at the academy in Switzerland. Gar flinched at the memory of Slade correcting his grammar mistake. And when the food first arrived, the pretentious jerk pointed out that Gar had picked up the wrong fork for his salad. How was he supposed to know that there was more than one type of fork, let alone the difference between one for salad or dessert?

"Are you okay?"

Gar broke out of his daze to realize that they had already made it back to the hotel. In fact, they were already exiting the elevator onto his floor and walking down the hallway. "I'm fine."

"I thought we said we'd be honest with each other," Raven said with a comforting smile, "I'm sorry that you had to go through the displeasure of meeting Wilson. Hopefully, we won't have to cross paths with him anytime soon."

He nodded and replied, "And I'm sorry you had to cover the bill. I'll pay you back ASAP."

"Like I said, it's no big deal. I charged it on the company card."

"It is a big deal, Rae! At the end of the day, company money is still your money! I don't want you to have to take care of me like that."

"Well what if I want to take care of you?" she challenged.

"Th-that's besides the point!" he answered defensively. "You shouldn't have to, even if it is your job. Especially because it's your job!"

The pair paused just outside the door to his room. Resting her hand on his arm so that he turned to face her, Raven gave him a confused stare. She looked at him intently, as though she was trying to read into whatever was going on in his mind. "You're being ridiculous, Gar," she finally said. "I'll see you later, okay? Try to cool off before then."

The musician re-entered his hotel room after a silent wave goodbye to Raven. Inside, Victor lounged on a chair by the window with his phone in hand. Gar gave the drummer a tired glance before falling face-first onto his bed.

"Long day?" his friend asked.

"Dude, don't get me started. I'm exhausted and we still have the concert tonight."

"You're tired?" scoffed Victor. "Tell that to the poor guy who got woken up at the ass-crack of dawn by his roommate's stomping around. What are you, an elephant?"

"Sorry 'bout that. Like I said, today's been rough."

"Was the interview that bad?"

"No, that went well. It was what happened afterwards that sucked."

Gar recapped the day's events, making sure to skip over the part where Raven cried and shared her daddy issues. At the mention of Slade, Victor drew in a breath. "You met him? Of all the people to randomly meet on the street... Man, what a coincidence."

"Something tells me that it was not a coincidence," grumbled Gar. "Everything about that dude is super sketchy. You should have heard what he was saying about Raven. What a sexist, classist, condescending creep. I swear, I was ready to knock his lights out."

"Hmm, sounds like a one-way ticket to the front page of TMZ. Oh, and congrats."

"Huh?"

"A couple hours ago, you became Insta-famous. With the amount of time you spend on your phone, I'm surprised you didn't already know."

Victor moved to sit next to Gar on his bed, handing him his phone. It was opened onto Gar's Instagram page. Before the tour, Raven had arranged for each of the Titans to get "Verified" status on their personal accounts. Official promotional photos were posted on the band's account, but the individual members were encouraged to post more candid shots of themselves. A user named jill_jackson95 had tagged him in the selfie that was taken that morning. While the magazine intern only had about two thousand followers, the photo itself had close to fifty thousand likes. After a quick check on his own phone, Gar saw that he had gained several thousand followers since the post went up. Normally, that amount of "love" would have skyrocketed Gar's mood. However, the caption only made him grimace. It read:

Just met the sweetest guy on set today. Can't wait to hang out next time you're in Dallas green_guitar_gar of titansbandofficial *heart emoji* *starstruck emoji* *red kiss emoji*

"She's cute. Totally your type," Victor said with a barely contained guffaw.

"I am not interested."

"Do you think she knows that? Because looking at her replies, you two are practically married."

Digging deeper, Gar was loath to admit that Victor was right. Hundreds of users talked about how jealous they were of Jill's chance to meet the in-demand bachelor. Some people asked more specific questions:

Does he smell as good as he looks?

OMG he's so hot. Did you get a feel of his pecs?

I stan! Next time you meet up with him, can you introduce me?

Jill responded as though they had been long lost lovers or best friends from childhood. She spoke about Gar with an intimacy that was totally unwarranted. According to her: 1) no, he smelled even better, 2) yes, they're soooooo firm, and 3) of course! The commentary made Gar feel like a trophy that was being waved around for clout. Good, wholesome admiration was nice, but this? This was just creepy.

"Ugh. I guess I'll have to report this to Raven."

"I never took her for the jealous type," Victor answered while wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

"She's our manager, Vic. She'd wanna know for PR reasons."

"Right, because there's nothing going on between you two."

Gar contradicted him right away, "Nope, nothing at all. Anyway, reading all of this makes me feel gross."

"It's pretty awkward, huh?" said Victor, his tone becoming more sympathetic. "It's similar to what happened to me during the whole thing with Karen."

"Really?"

"Yeah, our audience commented that we were perfect for each other. Within hours of the story breaking news, fan accounts dedicated to our 'relationship' popped up. And get this, some people even wrote fan fiction."

"Whoa, talk about dedicated." Gar answered with his jaw dropped, "Did you read any of it?"

"Just one. It was an 'alternate universe' story where Karen and I were superheroes. I stopped reading when things got R-rated," Victor groaned in embarrassment. "The funniest part was that as soon as I announced the engagement, everyone changed their tune, saying that Sarah is my perfect match."

"Seriously? At least they were supportive..."

With a nod of agreement, Victor said, "The congratulatory messages were great and all, but it wasn't quite the same as hearing it from 'real' people like my dad, you know?"

"Don't you think it's weird that our fans think they know us so well?" asked Gar. "It makes no sense."

"It makes perfect sense, in psychological terms at least. Ever heard of parasocial relationships?"

"Nope. Do enlighten me, Dr. Freud."

"They've been a thing since the rise of TV in the 50s, but social media makes it even more common," explained Victor. "A famous person, let's say an actress, presents an approachable image of herself to the public. She tells relatable anecdotes and shares everyday snapshots to prove that she's 'just like us'. In turn, fans invest themselves emotionally into her life, even though she barely knows they exist."

"So basically, it's a one-sided relationship."

"Bingo!" Victor said, giving Gar a finger gun. "If you think about it, it's a super effective marketing tactic."

"More like super opportunistic," Gar said with a frown. "You make it sound like the fans are being used."

"But aren't they? In my opinion, 'influencer' is just another word for 'exploiter'. That's why vloggers and streamers are able to make so much money. Their audience sees them as trustworthy everymen. They love them as if they're actual friends, when in reality, they're not."

"Huh. I never thought about it that way..."

"Obviously, I'm not saying that all famous people are out to take advantage of their followers. But the relationship will always be unbalanced. We receive love from our fans without giving much back in return."

"I disagree!" Gar countered. "Isn't our music enough? And our time? I've had some really cool, meaningful conversations with fans at meet n' greets. Plus, lots of celebrities give their money to charity and use their influence for good."

"Yeah, I guess that's true," Victor agreed with a shrug. "Now if you really wanted to play Devil's advocate, you could argue that fans treat us like objects. Being idolized is a double-edged sword."

"Ain't that the truth."

"Anyway, I only brought up the subject as a reminder."

"For what?"

"That we can't let fame change us. Even though we can genuinely care about our fans, those relationships could never replace our real friends and family. You feel me?"

Gar pondered upon his conversation with Victor for the rest of the afternoon, up until the start of the show. Before their big break, all the guitarist dreamed about was gaining a dedicated following. But now, he questioned whether or not he truly wanted fame. Later that night during the concert, a "Marry Me" sign was flashed in his direction. Since the woman practically fainted when he smiled at her, Gar was pretty sure that it was meant for him. It was flattering at first, but the more he thought about it, the more uncomfortable he felt. The faceless fan didn't know him at all. And it wasn't just her, it was all of them. They were in love with the idea of "Gar the rockstar", not Garfield, the grown adult who liked to play Pokémon and Stankball. Behind the glamour and lights, he was a real person with real feelings. But Raven saw him for who he was. She knew his hopes and dreams, his insecurities and flaws. She laughed at his jokes, but only when she thought they were funny.

On the ride back to the hotel from the venue, he wondered how Raven would react if he ever asked her to marry him in the future. If he did it in front of a huge crowd like that daring fan, she was sure to say no. But if it were a private affair, at the right time, with the perfect ambience... How would she respond? Whatever the timing or circumstances, he hoped that one day, he would have the courage to pop the question. And of course, he hoped even harder that she would say "yes".

Raven was glad that the day was finally over. Taking off the scant amount of makeup on her face and changing into pyjamas, she settled into bed with a sigh. Despite the unfortunate run-in with Slade and Garfield's strange mood afterwards, it had been a pretty good day. He had been very professional during the interview shoot and the Titans' latest concert performance was top-notch. When Garfield reported back the increase of activity on his social media, she only smiled. She figured that the attention-seeking part of him was extremely pleased. Raven was genuinely happy for his and the band's- no, her family's success. And she would do anything in her power to make sure that it would only grow.

The woman got up from the bed to put on her pyjamas but was interrupted by a knock at the door. Expecting it to be Garfield, she double-checked herself in the mirror to make sure that she looked presentable. She prepared herself to say thank you for him coming to her defense against Slade, but instead of the green-haired man, she was greeted by a blonde, a brunette and a redhead. Waltzing in like models for a hair commercial, the three women made themselves comfortable in her room. Raven didn't even get a chance to protest before they shut the door and presented two bottles of wine.

"Got any glasses?" Cassie inquired, rummaging through the drawers next to the mini-bar.

Kory added, "It has been forever since we had time for just us girls."

"Aren't you three exhausted?" Raven asked.

"We're okay. If anything, a nice glass of vino will help us wind down. And besides, tomorrow's a light travel day," reasoned the Bees' lead singer.

"But Karen! Your set is in less than twenty-four hours," Raven reminded her. "I don't want Wally getting mad at me if you're too hungover to perform."

"It'll be fiiiiine."

With a shrug of defeat, Raven gestured to her bed for the girls to take a seat. After two glasses of wine each, the conversation moved from the tour to their love lives. The manager's brows raised with concern as Cassie explained that she and Conner had fought recently. Raven thought it was worrying that the pair had been avoiding each other lately. What was even more worrying was how Cassie had taken to crying about the conflict on Tim's shoulder.

"You better watch yourself, Cass," Karen warned, "that sounds like a disaster of a love triangle just waiting to happen."

"Tim's just a friend," Cassie defended before turning the question on Karen. "What about you, then? Any romance going on for you?"

"I've been in a bit of a dry spell for the past six months," she answered with a sigh.

Kory procured the other bottle and opened it with a flourish. She leaned over to pour the woman another glass in sympathy before topping off Raven and Cassie's drinks.

"However, after that thing with Victor got cleared up in the press, an old flame sent me a DM," said Karen.

"For real?" Kory squealed, nearly spilling the rest of the wine. "Who is he?"

"He's a professional trumpet player. We met at a jazz fest a couple of years ago. His name is Mal Duncan, have you heard of him?"

It must have been the alcohol, for Raven's lips felt thoroughly loosened. Before her brain could catch up with her mouth, she admitted, "I haven't, but I actually dated a 'Mal' once." She immediately regretted her confession at the barrage of questions her three friends threw at her. Cassie was appalled that she had never heard of this ex-boyfriend before. Raven had to explain that it happened after they lost touch. Kory wondered if he was a kind man, to which Raven gave a hard "no".

"So have you dated anyone since then?" Kory asked.

"Not really. I went on a couple of blind dates here and there, but nothing serious."

"Any one-night stands?" chimed in Karen.

"No, not my thing."

"Are you saying that you haven't gotten laid in almost four years?!" shouted Cassie.

"If I'm going through a dry spell," Karen said, "then you're in the Sahara desert!"

Despite the fact that she was the butt of the joke, Raven couldn't help but join the other women in a fit of drunk giggles.

"Has anyone caught your eye recently?" asked Karen.

"She's too busy working all the time to see the oasis right in front of her," Cassie replied blithely.

The allusions to Garfield made Raven sober up right away. She answered, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on, even I know what she's referring to," Karen said. "You and Gar clearly have feelings for each other."

Raven denied everything with a deadpan shake of her head. Even Cassie, the person who had known her for the longest, couldn't tell if the inscrutable woman was lying or not.

"But you find him attractive, don't you?" continued Karen.

"I suppose that he is objectively attractive by society's standards. That is, if you can look past his supremely lame sense of humour and total lack of common sense."

The other three women tried pressing the subject, but it was clear that Raven was no longer open for comment. Thankfully, it didn't take long for the magnifying glass to focus on Kory's recent shotgun wedding. In a sincere, reverent voice, Cassie asked when she fell in love with her husband.

"The Tamaranean language has many different words for love," Kory explained. "There is preferential 'love' to describe one's favourite colour or food. We also have a 'love' that is closer to attraction, similar to how Raven feels for our dear friend Garfield." She paused to give Raven a wiggle of her brows, which was instantly returned with a dismissive eye roll. "Then, there is 'love' for easily loveable things, like babies, small animals and the beauty of nature."

"What about the things that aren't so easy to love?" Cassie asked.

"That is the 'love' I have for Richard," the Tamaranean responded. "I felt the 'attraction' love as soon as I met him. But the 'difficult to love' feeling only developed around the time we went to college."

"It sounds like you're talking about love at first sight and unconditional love," Karen offered.

"Exactly!" Kory exclaimed. "I hope you all experience unconditional love one day, my friends. It is difficult, but so worth it."

Their quality time ended soon after the last drop of wine was consumed. The three visitors thanked Raven for the use of her room as they exited to return to their own. Now alone, Raven was left with the jumble of her thoughts. She hadn't expected their girl talk to end on such a heavy subject. "Leave it to Kory to make things all pensive and profound," she muttered to herself.

Love. Raven thought about it more in the last three months than in the last three years. How in the world had she gotten to that point so quickly? It felt like only yesterday that the door to her heart was locked shut, but that wasn't true at all. Garfield had patiently worked his way in by becoming her friend first. Around him, she could be herself. With him, she felt comfortable and safe. Turning off her light with a sigh, Raven pulled the sheets close to her body. As she dozed off, she wondered what it would feel like to fall asleep wrapped up in Garfield's arms instead. Would his grip be feather-light or firm? Would they spoon, or face each other in a frontal embrace? Whatever the answers to her questions, she hoped that she would find out eventually. And of course, she hoped even harder that it would be soon.

The following day was unrushed and relaxed. Austin was only a two-hour drive away, leaving the team more than enough time to lounge in their hotel rooms. Gar took full advantage of the opportunity by sleeping in until the late morning. A note on his night table stated that Victor had gone to the dining room for complimentary brunch, and that the drummer would save his best buddy a plate of bacon. Disgusted, the vegan rolled out of bed to brush his teeth. Out of habit, he brought his phone with him to the washroom, checking it with his left hand while brushing with the right. An hour prior, the magazine had published the interview and linked it to all of their social media accounts. As Gar scrolled through the comments, he found them to be overwhelmingly positive and... Thirsty? Good Lord, if these teenagers' mothers knew what their kids were posting on the Internet...

"Shit!"

The last time he called Rita was in January. Almost three full months had passed since then. Gar spat out the frothy toothpaste and rinsed his mouth in a panic before rushing back to sit on his bed. Filled with guilt, he pressed her number on speed dial and anxiously tapped his fingers against his thigh. Unexpectedly, a deep, baritone voice answered the phone.

"Hello, Garfield. This is quite the surprise, considering we haven't heard from you in the last decade."

Gar literally bit his tongue so he wouldn't talk back at his father's sarcastic exaggeration. Steve was right, there was no excuse for him to be so neglectful. "I apologize, sir. It won't happen again."

"I suppose you want to speak to your mother?"

"Yes, sir."

"She's occupied at the moment, so you're stuck with me until she's free. I can put you on hold if you'd prefer-"

"-No, that's alright," Gar interrupted, "in fact, I wanted to apologize to you. I'm sorry I missed out on Christmas this year."

"..."

"I really mean it. I promise I'll be there for the next holiday."

"Hmph," was all Steve said after a bout of silence. "I saw you in the press, by the way."

"Oh, the interview? It was pretty positive, huh? I'm actually kinda proud of mysel-"

It was Steve's turn to cut him off, "-What are you talking about? I'm referring to the spectacle that you made in Vancouver. Really, Garfield? How could you be so careless?"

The musician groaned inwardly. Things had been going relatively well until his father mentioned the stage dive. Flushing with embarrassment, Gar answered hotly, "Don't worry, sir. My manager gave me enough grief about that as it is. I don't need you scolding me too."

"You made your mother sick with worry. How busy could you possibly be not to contact her?"

Gar twinged with guilt once again. He had seen the missed calls and messages, but he always forgot to reply."I'm calling now, aren't I?"

"Unbelievable. You can be such an immature, insensitive brat, I-"

"-Gar? Gar, honey, is that you?" Thankfully, his mother took over the phone call before Gar lost his temper. Once the details of his head injury were cleared up, Rita whispered, "I heard the tail-end of what Steve said. I hope he wasn't too hard on you."

"It's fine, I... I'm okay. But honestly, Mom, sometimes I wonder how you ever fell in love with that guy in the first place."

Rita chuckled loudly, then said, "I was fully aware of your father's shortcomings before we got married. If not... Let's just say things wouldn't have lasted as long as they did."

"Hmph. I guess marriage is all about loving your partner despite their flaws?"

"No, sweetheart. It's about accepting them for what they are. Now what about you? Has anyone been on your radar since we last spoke?"

"Sort of," Gar answered truthfully. While Raven had asked him to keep things a secret from the band and the general public, she never said anything about his mother.

"Oh, tell me all about her!"

"She's super smart and driven. Gorgeous. Thoughtful. Very witty with a dry sense of humour. I think I met my soulmate."

"Oh my. Your soulmate, hmm? I thought that was the last girlfriend. Careful, dear, that sounds a lot like puppy love."

"It's not infatuation, Mom. I'm pretty sure she's 'the one', I love her."

"You love her?" Rita said in surprise. "Then why is this the first time I'm hearing about this girl? How long have you known her for?"

"Er, a little over half a year, give or take?"

"I see. And how long have you been dating?"

Gar did a quick calculation and replied, "Officially? Two weeks."

When Rita regained her composure after another fit of laughter, she asked, "And you think you're in love? More like the honeymoon phase. Relationships are more than just the good moments, you know."

"I know," Gar answered in exasperation, wondering if his mother could hear him pouting over the phone.

"Look, I'm not trying to say that what you have with this girl isn't real, but..."

"But what, Mom?"

"Your father and I have been together longer than you've been alive," she said in a more serious tone. "We've had countless fights and disagreements. There were even a couple of times when we almost got divorced. But do you know why I stuck it out with him?"

"Because it's too late to turn back now?"

"Gar!"

"Sorry, how come?" he asked.

"Steve is my anchor," Rita explained, "in the storms of life, he holds me down. He's the one person I can depend on to always be there. In other words, being with him feels like home."

"Home?" repeated Gar.

"It's that feeling of familiarity and comfort. The place where you can completely be yourself without being judged. No matter where I am, or what craziness is going on around me... If I'm with your father, I know that I'm safe. Do you get what I mean?"

"I think so."

"Good. I need to hang up soon, but please, visit us once the tour is over?" she requested. "I miss you dearly. And believe it or not, your father misses you too."

"Will you even be in Jump when I get back?"

"We'll make sure to be there. Love you, Gar."

"Love you too, Mom. Bye and uh, tell St- Dad that I say goodbye as well."

After hanging up, Gar's thoughts remained on the concept of "home". What was "home" to him? It wasn't the West African village where he briefly lived with his birth parents. Nor was it either of his foster parents' residences in Jump City and Covington. He had moved into the apartment with Victor just after graduating high school, but Gar always knew that the place was just temporary. Perhaps the better question was who, not what.

A flash of inspiration electrified his body, willing his hands to pick up the hotel notepad and pen on his bedside. Words flowed freely onto the paper in furious scribbles. Gar didn't bother slowing down to check his spelling or keep his penmanship neat. The Muse spoke to him in fervent whispers and it was his duty to write everything down before it faded away. By the time check-out rolled around, the lyrics were finished. All that was left to figure out was the music and the song would be complete.

"Ready to go?" Victor asked as he re-entered the room.

"Not quite. I still haven't packed up my stuff yet."

"Geez, Gar, just when I think you can't get any lazier..."

"I'm going, I'm going!" The guitarist folded the piece of paper and tucked it safely away in his wallet. Scooting off of the bed where he sat, he jumped into high gear and stuffed all of his loose clothes back into his bag.

"I gotta say, I won't miss this part of touring," Victor commented. "Living out of a suitcase sucks. I can't wait to be home."

"Home," Gar thought with a grin. "If she isn't it, then I don't know who is."

An attractive woman waited in the lobby of Austin's classiest hotel. Her long hair was a cool, silvery blonde, a stark contrast to her tanned skin. She had the physique of a martial artist and her expression was stuck in a permanent "bitch face". Readjusting the black camera bag that was slung over her shoulder, she clutched the manila envelope in her hand a bit more tightly. She looked bored out of her mind, made evident in the way she checked her phone every thirty seconds. Unlike the other paparazzi who were barred from entering the hotel, this woman was allowed inside. After all, she was there on official business.

Her younger self never thought that she would become a player in the paparazzi game, yet here she was. As a photography student, she had dreamed of a career as a featured gallery artist. Unfortunately, her attempts to break into the modern art world had failed, even with her father's many connections. After a few years of floundering, he finally cut her off and forced her to figure out life on her own. The experience had been humiliating, but in the end, it made her stronger. She eventually resorted to working for tabloids, because above dignity came survival and a girl had to make a living somehow.

She raised her head at the ruckus of a noisy crowd as the hotel doors swung open. An army of assistants and bodyguards surrounded a group of VIPs. They were a variety of shapes and sizes, one being very short and another being monstrously large. Three of the other men were tall and skinny, the first staring at his surroundings with wide eyes. The second man looked bright and hyper while the third simply brooded. There was only one woman amongst them and she sported neon pink hair. The seventh person broke away from the group to approach the photographer. The stately, middle aged man gave her a firm handshake before directing her to follow him to the elevators. The elevator stopped at the second highest floor to drop off everyone except the older man and young woman. After reaching the top floor, the pair entered the privacy of the hotel's penthouse suite. He offered her a drink, which she accepted readily. They sat and sipped at their glasses of aged whiskey for a few quiet moments. Finally, the man broke the silence with a question. "Do you have what I asked for?"

"I did what I could. There wasn't that much to work with." The woman handed over the envelope, which the man opened immediately. It contained large-sized prints of photos that were taken in rapid succession of one another. The images zoomed in to focus on the faces of the Titans' manager and guitarist. They were somewhat obscured by blurred figures on the edges of the photo, but the teary-eyed expression of the woman's face was in full view. It was equally clear to see the man's look of concern and his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"These images are worthless. I wanted something more-"

"-Juicy? These are the best shots of the bunch. It's not my fault that nothing more interesting happened."

"I am paying you a very large sum of money," the man growled, clearly not used to being interrupted or disappointed. "The least you could do is come up with a better excuse for your incompetence."

"I'd like the other half of my payment now. Please." The disdain practically dripped from her voice. Still frowning, the man pulled a bundle of cash from his suit jacket. She snatched it from his fingers and placed it inside the pocket of her camera bag. "Seeing that our business is over-"

"-Not so fast. The job isn't finished."

"It is unless I see more money," she answered back.

With a roll of his eyes, the man ordered, "Keep it up for the next forty-eight hours. I'll pay you double the original rate that we agreed upon, plus a bonus if you get the money shot. Is that to your satisfaction?"

"You drive a hard bargain, but I guess that'll do," she said, extending her arm for another handshake. "Pleasure doing business with you, Dad."

A/N: Easter eggs: Mal Duncan is Herald, Bumblebee's actual husband in the comics. He plays a silver horn that opens portals. In crosseyedbutterfly's AU "The Librarian's Children", he is also described as a professional trumpet player. I thought the parallel was appropriate for my story too. Cassie, Conner and Tim do in fact get into a love triangle in the comics after the death and resurrection of Superboy. It was very messy and awkward, lol. As for Steve and Rita, I don't know much about the Doom Patrol. I only know about them through their appearance in the Teen Titans comics and the TV show. So if their relationship is OOC, my bad. And I'm sure you can all guess the identity of the mysterious paparazzo.

In my personal headcanon, Tamaranean is somewhat similar to Ancient Greek, which has six different words for love. Also, I inadvertently got all meta talking about fanfiction. To make it clear: I'm not judging anyone who writes fanfic about real people. I did it for my favourite K-pop ship when I was 16. However, you have to admit that writing about real people is very different from fictional characters.

Till next time, Lily Timbers

Replies to Guest Reviews

frog31791: Thanks for the review! And yes, Slade is the literal worst.

Guest: Aaaah I'm so glad you liked all of the shenanigans on the bus, they were a lot of fun to write. Did this chapter confirm any of your theories about Slade? I had a wonderful time with my family, thanks for your well wishes :) And life is definitely busier-I started work again, and my students are returning to school in 5 days, aaaah! Hopefully, I'll be able to get the next chapter out in a timely manner. Thanks again for your comments!

Alpha Slayer (Chapter 17): I don't know if you'll see this, but omg your review totally cracked me up. Your words are too kind and they totally brought a smile to my face. As for your request... don't worry, I already have plans to talk about Gar and Raven during Victor and Sarah's wedding, although that will only be in the epilogue. I hope to hear more of your thoughts! Don't feel like you need to hold back, lol.