Page 65 of All That Remains
"And they say self-sufficiency’s dead."
“This thing issickkk,man! C'mon, Rafe, let me have a go, yeah?"
I tossed him the keys without hesitation. His excitement was too adorable to quelch.
"Rome, look at me, alright?" We faced each other over the roof of the car. He had a mischievous grin in place. "You better fooking listen, mate. If I see you riding the clutch, or missing a single gear, I'm gonnakillyou!"
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He adjusted the seat and made a remark about the air fresheners. They weren’t his cup of tea, so I snatched them down and stuffed them in the glove compartment. Now I adjusted the GPS and slapped his hand away when he started messing with the touchscreen on the dash.
"Don't fuck up my pre-sets."
"Don't matter," he forfeited. "I'm too psyched, anyway."
He started the engine and revved it, unleashing a deep growl throughout the yard.
"Mate, don't piss off the neighbors." At that, we looked at each other and laughed.
"Yeah...we've got loads of experience with that..."
"Fuck’s sake, remember when we nearly got kicked out of the Plaza?"
"How could I forget?"
"Our team fought for like half an hour to convince them to let us stay. They said the bed must've already been broken when we checked in. Mate, they had no fooking clue how we destroyed that thing." He pursed his lips in a way that let me know he remembered quite vividly. “The moment the frame came crashing down, they were at our door with complaints from other guests.”
"Thin walls..." was all he muttered, shaking his head.
I laughed and put my glasses on, watching him pull out of the secluded driveway towards the avenue. He was doing relativelywell, compared to some of our past jaunts. It’d been rough going a few times we were out together, to the extent that I’d make him pull over and switch seats with me. It always resulted in us fighting by the time we got wherever we were going, and I hoped this ride wouldn't result in the same.
A few blocks from home, he glanced around the neighborhood and shook his head at the obscene capital that surrounded us.
"Mila’s dad lives not too far from here."
"Oh yeah?"
"Mm-hm. The house she grew up in." He shook his head. “Sheesh. Fuckin' mental, mate. They’re like…royalty or somethin’."
"You married rich, huh?"
"As if. Couldn't pick me jaw up off the floor the entire time I was there. I've never seen a house that massive. Bigger than both of minecombined. It's mind-blowin’.”
"Woah…"
"He’s brilliant. Self-made, from what I can tell. Pretty cool bloke, too. Bro... I thought we were well-off after the band, but his fuckin' bedroom and closet—the square footage is as big as my entire house. The BHPO house, anyway."
"Holy shit..."
"It's inspirin'—orinspirational," he chuckled. "Kind of scary though. I feel like once you get to a certain level...of wealth or fame or whatever...it's easy to lose sight of what it means to behumanin a way."
"Does he strike you that way?"
"No, not at all. I'm just sayin', y'know?" We rounded a corner rather awkwardly. He was getting jerky as we entered the main roads, which presented lots of stop-and-go traffic. "It would be easy to lose sight of everythin'…with what we’ve been through.And all the dope shit we’ve achieved.Numbers on numbers on numbers. What does it all mean anyway?"
"Yeah...I get what you mean. I try to catch myself whenever I start taking things for granted. It’s difficult unless you’re reminded of how bad it could be otherwise.”
"Right. If you aren’t careful, it’d be easy to, uh, lose perspective. And what are we if we're lackin’ perspective at the end of the day?"
