As they rode, Billy felt he was having a harder time keeping balance with Mark. Maybe it was the traffic. Maybe it was the focused silence. Or maybe he just wanted an excuse. But he found his arms wrapped tight around Mark's chest before they were even halfway there. It was easier to feel the other's shifts that way, to make sure he didn't make them crash or go skidding into a car. Or maybe it just made him feel comfortable.

He was reluctant to let go when they finally stopped. But he had to. Slowly peeling his arms off of Mark's torso and planting his feet on the pavement. He takes his time to dust himself off, to make sure he didn't look like he'd gone on an unsanctioned trek through the city.

Slowly, he took the flier, looking it over. He used to go to shows all the time, until he got signed on with Valyrie. But never spoken word. He so badly wanted to go, if even just to hear Roger, or see Mark. Getting out during the day was easy. Night was harder. "I can't make any promises," he said with a heavy heart. "But I'll see if I can."