closed for: @vanessagable
where: their place, sunday morning
Stepping out on to the balcony of the property that overlooked the beach, X isn't daunted by the erected stage he can see that he would be performing on later in the day with his band -- though there was some mild jitters about being on stage for the first time since his father's passing given how he hadn't been able to deliver his eulogy.
His need for air and a time out stemmed from needing five away from a specific bandmate, a smile dawning where a frown had been he realises the bandmate following him out was a different one.
"I'm good," He tells her before she can ask, Van's steady streak of worrying about him only amplifying with time since Houston rather than lessening, though he wouldn't hold it against her, "I can't hear anymore about his fucking lucky drumsticks. Tell him he's being ridiculous."
