Chapter 11

It’s funny how music has interwoven itself through his life without his realizing it. He’d used it as refuge in his youth, just like any other teenager who wanted to escape the darker shades of the day-to-day, but it never carried weight until he met Devin. Even then, the value was always his, not Tim’s. It wasn’t a part of his soul like it was Devin’s, just the occasional delight.

When it became the same asylum, he doesn’t know. Then again, there was a time when he would’ve wondered the same about Devin. The friendship he’d been too afraid to become something more had sneaked its way into corners of his life to find roots without his awareness. The tendrils were wound so tightly, he hadn’t given a single thought to the text he’d sent that changed everything.

* * * *

Tim: You around?

Devin: Just finished sound check. What’s up?

Tim: Need a sec.

Devin: Want me to call?

Tim: No. You don’t have time.

Devin: I do for you.