Rosco laid on his back plastered to the basement floor. He lost Floyd at the show. He should have expected as much.
He'd lost Emily at the show too. There had been some moshing, and he'd somehow rolled into it and met up with the girl who'd brought him home. He hadn't wanted to take her up on the offer. But with no Floyd insight and watching Emily all over some dude, he had to go home.
Rosco heard the shower then. He guessed she was still here. Well, someone was here, and he knew it wasn't Emily.
He held his breath then. Why did he put himself through this? A part of him never wanted to leave the basement again. Only here he was laying fully clothed. Not sure he could ever hear or see anything correctly again. And there was a girl in his shower, he didn't know.
Finally he got up. Now he needed to pee. Maybe he could rush up stairs and use the one there, but he didn't want to be anymore of a problem than he already was being here.
"Hey, you ever going to get out of there?" He banged on the bathroom door.
Finally, the shower stopped. But it seemed to take forever before the bathroom door unlocked. And then when he saw her face it was a little strange. He didn't remember her at all. She had had heavy duty make up on last night. Now she was unmasked. And looked all of thirteen. Perhaps.
"Sorry." He said. "I gotta go."
She nodded. The towel was wrapped around her tightly, and she left the bathroom. He stayed in the bathroom long after he peed. He wasn't sure if his head hurt so much from the emotion of not knowing why she was here or just who was she.
Thankfully, she was dressed when he got back to the livingroom. "You didn't have to stick around, you know." He shrugged.
"Yeah, but you were really sad, last night." She shrugged back.
"Well, I'm better now." He faintly smiled thinking it was more effort than anything.
"You're going to see Hatebreed, aren't you?" She combed out her wet hair.
"I doubt it."
"We could get pancakes if you're hungry?"
He shook his head, no. Getting in the car with a stranger was just too freaky to get used to for him.
"I gave you my number."
He dug in his jeans pocket then. There it was on white paper. Carrie.
"You said you were in dire need of a drummer." She stared at him.
"Yeah." He felt a bit disgusted about that. Had he said that because he wanted her, or because he meant it? "Maybe we can see you, sometime." Maybe, it was best not to make her think it was a date.
"Sure." She was sincere about it. He liked the fact she didn't sound crazy. She wasn't ordering him around.
"OK, I gotta show tomorrow night at the Whitfield."
"You're in a band already?"
"Just trying to help out an ex. That's all." She was still staring at him.
"Oh. Well, then I'll be there. In my own car this time." Yeah, it was all business. This was all business.