Chapter Text
“Do you really think it’s a mullet?” Keith asked, self-consciously tugging at his hair.
Lance nodded. “More Steve Harrington than Billy Ray Cyrus, though.”
“Is that good?”
As the two approached the end of the hallway, Hunk and Pidge were there to meet them. Immediately, Hunk swept Lance up in a hug.
“I’m so sorry, buddy,” Hunk cried. “You said it was a personal song, but we kept pushing and not listening to you! We’ll try to be more empathetic next time-“
Lance choked. “Hunk. Can’t breathe.”
Hunk readjusted his grip. Now, Lance appeared more like a toddler being held by their shoulders, rather than a man being eaten by a boa constrictor. It was impressive to Keith how strong Hunk was doing it, and understood a bit more why people might be intimidated by him.
Hunk continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “But it was a great song! You shouldn’t have to be embarrassed about it. I’m sorry you ever felt the way you did in the song, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it.”
“Both of us!” Pidge chipped in, hanging on Hunk’s arm.
Keith shuffled awkwardly. It was obvious the three were really good friends, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding on a moment. He looked at Lance.
But Lance had looked as uncomfortable as Keith. It confused Keith, since in his opinion Hunk and Pidge had said everything right. It was an apology to be studied by scholars for the ages; and yet, Lance didn’t seem comforted by the words at all.
He had, though, looked grateful to Keith just moments before. Despite the ‘Mullet” comment about Keith’s hair, Keith honestly felt like he made Lance feel better about the situation. That they were moving forward in a big way.
Now, Keith was disappointed. No way would Lance have felt better by Keith’s awkward squawking, but not by his best friend’s Gold Star words of comfort. He had thought for a moment he was getting better at understanding social queues.
Either way, Lance looked in desperate need of rescue. “Why did you follow us?” Keith asked the group.
Pidge looked offended by the question. “Uh, because our friend ran off upset? Why wouldn’t we follow him?”
“Oh,” Keith said awkwardly. “That makes sense.” Fourtunately, Hunk finally put Lance down and allowed his friend some space. Keith would take the win.
“Actually,” Hunk admitted. “Shiro sent us to come grab you guys.”
Keith and Lance both stood a little straighter.
“Allura is waiting to meet us.”
#
Keith had been in the music business long enough to know most business meetings didn’t look like business meetings.
Long tables with men in suits were saved for accountants. It was too professional, too dramatic a situation for musicians to not realize it was a money-grabbing scheme. Nowadays, business men liked their prey comfortable before they completely screwed them over. On more hopeless days, Shiro would say it ‘helped the meat stay tender’.
So Keith knew that Allura casually popping by was not to say hello. The band had yet to sign a contract, and Allura was checking how her investment was doing.
As a person, Keith liked Allura. But he didn’t trust her, especially when she hadn’t immediately signed Voltron after the Open Call. She might be looking for new talent, but she still prioritized the money. In a different circumstance, Keith would have allowed it. But Keith, despite it all, wanted Voltron to succeed now. He didn’t want to see Hunk or Lance or Pidge screwed over by shady business people who were just out for money.
So if Shiro wanted to force Keith to be apart of this band, then he was going to protect his group.
When the four band members walked into the studio room, Shiro was casually chatting with Allura and Coran. Matt kept his face close to the sound board. Shiro must have not trusted Matt’s poker face, and told him to keep busy.
“Guys!” Shiro greeted them. “Happy you could join us! Lance, did you find the bathroom okay?”
“What?” Lance asked.
“Eventually,” Keith interrupted. He understood what Shiro was doing. “He walked into a broom closet originally, but we found him soon enough.”
“Huh?” Lance stared at Keith. Given a sideways glare, Lance finally understood. “Oh. Oh! Yeah, the hallways here are very confusing.”
“I agree,” Allura laughed. “When I was a girl, I got lost quite a few times. I’m grateful for having grown up here, or I too would have no idea how to get around!”
“Have you?” Lance smirked. He slid gracefully into the chair next the where Allura had been sitting. “I’ll need you to give me a tour of the place then!”
To Allura’s credit, she kept her smile. Her eyes, though, showed her annoyance. “Keith and Shiro have as much knowledge of the building as I do. I’m sure they can direct you as well as I ever could.”
“Maybe, but they wouldn’t look as good doing it-“
“Lance.” Shiro barked. Lance held his hands up in surrender, but smiled as if he learned no lesson.
“I just wanted to come down and see how you were all doing,” Allura lied. “I was hoping to hear some stuff if it was possible. Obviously, I’m not expecting it to be perfect, but maybe-“
“It’s going great actually,” Keith interrupted. He grabbed Lance’s notebook out of the other boy’s hands. “I think we have enough for a whole album here.”
Allura looked surprised. “Really?”
The entire room turned to Keith. “Dude, what are you--?” Lance whispered.
“In fact,” Keith continued. “We can probably get you enough for an EP by the end of next week.”
“Keith,” Shiro warned. And Keith understood why. Maybe Keith was being a bit dramatic, but he needed to show Allura that Voltron was worth it. Keith didn’t want to see another child celebrity get a music deal before a band with real talent. But he knew that if Allura was going to throw money at them, then Voltron couldn’t just be a decent band. They needed to be legendary.
“The end of next week?” Allura challenged. He had peaked her interest. Keith also understood that there was a time frame on the success of the band: If Keith’s outburst was still circulating TMZ articles, then the marketing paid for itself. “That would be fantastic! I can see if I can extend your studio time today, and then-“
“We’ve discussed working outside of the studio. At least in the writing stage.”
Allura’s excitement was lost. “What?”
This was another sneaky part of the music industry that Keith knew. If a song was written on Altea Record’s property, it was then under complete ownership of Altea Records.
In the first meeting, Keith had intercepted the notebook from Allura. What Lance did not know was that if he gave the book to Allura, he was also giving up all legal rights to his music. Any song that Altea Records wanted, they could take. They could give it to a new artist to sing, and sometimes with good lawyers, Lance wouldn’t see a dime.
And now knowing how personal the songs were to Lance, Keith was going to protect them.
“Lance and I will work outside of Altea to finalize that songs we want,” Keith explained. “And after that, we can come back and record them here.”
Allura huffed. “This is highly irregular, Keith.”
“Is it?” Keith asked, encouraged by Shiro’s smirk just behind Allura’s head. “I figured you would prefer it. This way you aren’t wasting money on studio time until the songs are done, and we have the privacy to work by ourselves.”
“You can understand my hesitation,” Allura said. “You want us to wait around while you work, unsupervised, on the music for my band? Why wouldn’t you want access to Altea’s resources while working? You can use our equipment, our instruments, and even our staff to help you make the best possible product you can.”
“Yeah, Keith,” Lance hissed in his ear. “Why wouldn’t we want that?”
Pidge leaned over to their brother. “What’s happening?”
“I think Keith is..helping you?” Matt replied.
“I have plenty of equipment at my apartment to get us through the writing stage,” Keith reasoned. “And in my experience, the creative process is a lot better the less people are involved. So, in the interests of my band-” Keith stepped forward, just slightly. “I would like to do things my way.”
“Um,” Lance called out. “For the record, it’s my band.”
“Is it?” Hunk asked.
“Good idea, Keith!” Shiro cheered. For the first time that day, Shiro looked genuine. “You can have free rein to experiment with your sound. Obviously, as your label, we’ll be able to make adjustments and critique at a later date, but it is important that these first steps you all do by yourselves. This also would be a great group exercise to help you four get to know each other! “
“Nope,” Keith corrected. “Lance and I will be working alone.”
“What the fuck is happening?” Pidge cried.
Hunk raised his hand in agreement. “I, too, would like to know what is going on.”
Lance, similarly, looked ready to scream. He pulled Keith down to him. “What the fuck are you doing?”
But Keith continued to speak to Allura. “Two weeks. Five finished songs.” Keith negotiated.
Exasperated, Allura pinched her nose. “Keith, I’m glad to see you this passionate about the project. But there is a way we do these things. I can’t let you wander off and simply trust its going to work out.”
“Why not?” Keith reasoned. “You’ll have to trust us at some point. Why not get the practice in?”
Allura rolled her eyes. “Coran, you have been here with them all morning.” She turned to her assistant, who sat contemplative in his chair. “You have never guided me wrong. Do you trust that they can work on their own?”
The room held its breath. Keith felt a tug on his arm, and looked to see Lance gripping his elbow. From the focus on his face, Keith had to guess he didn’t realize he was doing it.
Coran stroked his mustache thoughtfully. “In my professional opinion, Ms. Altea,” Coran began. He stood to his full, surprisingly tall height. He took a second to look at all the faces in the room, eyes finally landing on the space between Keith and Lance. “I believe this could be one of the greatest bands of this generation.”
Keith smiled. Coran smiled back.
Allura sighed. “Oh, alright. You will have two weeks to deliver five original songs. However, I would like to request that we meet briefly this Friday to check your work.”
“That’s great,” Shiro agreed. “I think we can all agree that that is a perfectly reasonable demand.”
“If that’s the case,” Allura said to the group. “Then I request you all get out of my studio. It sounds like you could use all the time at your disposal.”
With a sort of finality, Allura stomped out of the room. Coran followed quietly after, but not before briefly grabbing Keith’s shoulder in a show of support.
At the same time, Lance must have realized how he was holding Keith. Keith felt the loss of warmth at his arm, and was embarrassed at how comfortable he had felt with it being there.
Lance then ran out of the room, calling after Allura.
“Alright then,” Shiro said, clapping his hands. “Keith said it, and Allura confirmed it. I think we are all set to leave.
Good job today, and I’m looking forward to working with you all!”
Everyone then slowly began filtering out of the room. Keith heard Hunk speak to Pidge is a hushed voice: What just happened?
As Keith made to follow everyone out, Matt called out to him. “Keith! Wait up!”
“What’s up?” Keith asked, nervously. Keith wanted to let everything go, he really did. But after the comments Matt made this morning, Keith wasn’t confident that Matt knew...how to talk to Keith.
Keith looked to Shiro, asking a silent Stay.
Matt made a point to trip on ever single thing in his very small path to Keith. There was a musical rhythm to the way he hit the desk, the amp, and chair, tripped over a chord that came out of nowhere, and then finally stood in front of Keith.
“I, uh,” Matt coughed. “I just wanted to apologize again for, uh, everything. And then for bringing it up again in front of everyone earlier. And! And I wanted to thank you! For looking after my little sibling the way you did. In the band. My sibling is Pidge, by the way.”
Keith smiled awkwardly, trying to get out the door. “It’s fine, Matt. I’m looking forward to working with you.”
“You, too!” Matt replied. “What time should I be over today then?”
Keith turned back to the music producer. “Huh?”
“For the ‘creative process, sans Allura’,” Matt said with air quotes.
“Oh! Oh,” Keith started, messing with his hair a bit. “Uh, it’s actually just going to be Lance and I. Closed session.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” Matt said, trying to suffocate the awkwardness of the conversation. “I just figured. Music producer, you know. Maybe I’d also be there.”
“Yeah...”
Matt coughed again. “Yeah, uh, sorry for assuming.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s fine! But like sorry anyway.”
“It’s fine, Matt.” Keith never wanted to get out of a conversation more.
“I’d still love to be apart of it, when you’re comfortable.” Matt kept talking. “If you guys ever need an extra set of ears or something. I actually grew up with Lance, so I have a good sense for what kind of music he likes.”
“Yeah?” Keith asked, intrigued. It actually would be helpful in working with Lance to know his tastes. After all, Keith wanted to make things they could all enjoy. “Like what?”
“Uh, everything.” Matt said, unhelpfully. “Yeah, now that I think about it he’s pretty flexible. With his music! He’s flexible with music, and like his interests and stuff.”
Matt was blushing and Keith could not figure out why. “Great.” Keith said curtly.
Matt looked defeated, and again Keith was confused about what was happening in this conversation. “Yeah...”
Rolling his eyes, Keith gave in. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do in this situation, but he also didn’t like seeing Matt as sad as he was. He was Pidge’s brother still, and he needed to win him over if he was ever going to win over the rest of the band. “Listen. You’re our producer, so it’s probably a good idea I hear some of your stuff. That way we can adjust it to what you like to work on, too.”
“Oh, I can do anything,” Matt chipped.
“Right.” Keith gritted his teeth. “How about I give you my number anyway, so we can discuss ideas.”
Once again, Matt’s entire face went bright red. Keith held out his hand for Matt’s phone, and the other boy rushed to rip it out of his back pocket. “Yeah! Yeah, yeah, of course!”
After exchanging numbers, Matt finally left. He looked happier, which was good, but Keith felt exhausted.
On the other side of the room, Shiro grinned like a cat.
“What?” Keith spit.
Shiro smiled swarmingly. “Exchanging numbers, huh?”
“Yeah? We’re going to work together,” Keith explained, not getting Shiro’s point. “Dammit. Was this all just a stupid plan for you to set me up with friends?”
Shiro blinked. After a moment, though, he smiled again. This time, it was much warmer. “That obvious?”
“Yes.” Keith said. “Can we get out of here? I need, like, a four hour nap before I’m going to deal with Lance the rest of the night.”
“Okay, buddy.” Shiro said, ruffling Keith’s hair as they walked.
#
“Allura!” Lance called out after the woman.
When she turned to face him, her hair followed after her like a cloud on a sunny day. “Lance?”
Lance jogged over, his heart picking up as she said his name. “Yeah! Yeah, that’s me!”
She smiled impatiently. “Can I assist you with anything?”
He put his hands in his pockets to hide how they were sweating. “Yeah, actually. If you weren’t busy, I was wondering if I could sneak in that tour we discussed.”
Allura hummed. “If I remember our discussion, I had said that Keith and Shiro were more than capable-“
“Did you?” Lance interrupted. He leaned in with a wink. “I guess I didn’t hear over how loud my heart was beating from being around you.”
This time, Allura didn’t even pretend to look impressed.
Lance laughed it off. “”I’m kidding. Obviously, a driven industry leader like yourself has better things to do than show my ass around.”
This time when Allura looked at him, she was contemplative. Score. Lance thought to himself. “Then I’m afraid I don’t understand what I can assist you with.”
“I guess two things. First, I just wanted to say thank you. Hunk and Pidge have made a lot of sacrifices to work with me over the years, and I’m really grateful it wasn’t all a complete waste.”
Allura’s smile seemed warm. “You three seem to truly enjoy each other’s company. Regardless of this outcome, I’m sure they wouldn’t have seen it as wasted.”
Lance blushed, ruffling the back of his head. “I guess that’s one way of looking at it. But anyway, thank you for this. Altea Records has published some of the greatest albums of the century. To be here is like a dream.”
Allura faced Lance completely for the first time in the conversation. Lance figured, it being her father’s company, that Allura would have a deserving sense of pride over the Altea Records. “And what is the other thing I can help you with?”
Lance smiled. “You already did.”
“Oh?”
“I just wanted you to look at me again,” Lance flirted. “Sorry, it was kind of a selfish thing of me to do.”
This time, Allura actually laughed. As much as Hunk and Pidge made fun of him, Lance knew how to flirt. The key to it, in Lance’s opinion, was to be genuine.
“Well, thank you,” Allura said, a giggle still in her voice. “Hopefully we’ll be seeing each other more in the next few weeks while we’re working together.”
Lance held up his hands in defeat. “All right, I can take a hint. Strictly professional from here on out. Scout’s honor.”
A glint sparked in her eyes. “For some reason, I find that hard to believe.”
“You wound me, Princess.”
Allura rolled her eyes. As she walked away, she called back to him from over her shoulder. “It was nice speaking with you, Lance!”
“Likewise, Ms. Altea.”
From across the echo, marble lobby of Altea Records, she called back to him. “Call me Allura!”
Lance smiled again.
#
Keith had asked Lance to stop by within the hour. Luckily, Lance had brought his guitar to the session that morning, so he didn’t need to drive all the way back home. Instead, he grabbed quick a coffee with Pidge and Hunk, and then made his trek to the dragon’s den.
“Cock-a-doodle doo, asshole!” Lance cried as he banged on the door.
Keith’s apartment building was very expensive, and Lance was determined to not let it intimidate him. The guitarist had made a lot of demands in the studio with Allura, and Lance wanted to make sure he made it clear that it was his songs and his band.
It was certainly an added challenge when a shirtless Shiro opened the door.
“Lance!” Shiro greeted him.
“...hi...” Lance said quietly. Look at his eyes, not his chest. Look at his eyes, not his chest. LOOK AT HIS EYES-
“Sorry,” Shiro said as he walked into the apartment. “I was cooking and I stained my shirt. Let me go change, and then I can grab Keith as well.”
“I’m awake,” said Keith as he walked into the room. He had obviously just woken up, his shirt very wrinkled and his hair standing in all directions.
“It’s a miracle!” Shiro joked.
Keith only stared at him. “Why are you naked?”
“He stained his shirt,” Lance said, his voice still strained.
“And I am going to go change before I need to get back to the office,” Shiro explained. With that, Lance noted that Shiro walked into a different room then the one Keith had come out of. He hadn’t realized the two lived together, and now was extremely confused by their relationship.
“Stop being naked in my house!” Keith called out after him.
From the room, Shiro called back. “Stop saying weird shit in front of your guests!”
Yeah, that didn’t clear anything up for Lance.
Keith walked into the kitchen, which gave Lance an opportunity to look around the apartment.
The entryway was cut off by a small staircase that sank into a very large living room area. The far wall was centered by a fake, stone fireplace that hung a very large TV, and was boardered by two wall to ceiling windows. The two bedrooms sat on opposite walls that marked Keith and Shiro’s rooms respectively.
The house looked lived in. But not ‘lived in’ like Lance’s home, which had felt loved with use the same way a child’s favorite toy was. Keith’s apartment felt lived in like a homeless man broke into an Ikea and decided to stay the night. The entire place felt like a relator’s photo album, with small splatters of half-empty cups and dirty laundry.
“Sorry about the state of the place,” Shiro said. He was thankfully now fully clothed. “Keith is making a political statement against decorating.”
From the kitchen, that was just left of the entryway, Keith was drinking milk straight out of the carton. “Why would I spend money on shit that is just meant to sit there?”
“Because it helps the police think you aren’t a psychopath.” Lance answered. Shiro laughed heavily. It was weird to see Shiro so comfortable. At Altea, Shiro had a confident professional aura that was completely washed away in this moment. It was like seeing your math teacher in a grocery store.
Shiro adjusted his tie while also grabbing the milk carton out of Keith’s grasp. It splattered slightly.
Ignoring Keith’s sleepy pout, Shiro addressed Lance again. “I also feel the need to apologize Keith’s behavior. He was raised by roadies and rockstars, who are not really known for their manners.”
Keith grumbled to himself. “I invite you to my home, and you slander my father’s name...”
“He would agree with me.” Shiro said, tapping the top of Keith’s head with the milk before putting it back in the fridge. He grabbed a dense satchel on his way out of the door. “Good luck, guys! I’m excited to see what you come up with!”
And with that, Lance and Keith were left alone.
“So,” Lance started. “Shiro lives here.”
“Yup,” Keith answered, popping the last syllable.
“Cool. How long has that..been happening.”
Keith wandered to the living room, picking up a stray guitar that was laying on the ground. “Uh, like two months now?”
“Huh. I had no idea.” Lance said, thinking. “After seeing you guys together, and never would have assumed you were..”
“Friends?” Keith asked dryly.
Lance rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“I really don’t.” Keith countered. He stood, looking right at Lance like he was preparing for...something. “I don’t know if you noticed, but, I’m not-- I’m not great at this shit.”
“What shit?”
“This.” Keith said, gesturing wildly between them. “I can’t pick up on the subtle shit you’re saying but not saying, so I’d kinda appreciate if you could just say what you mean.”
Startled, Lance just looked at Keith. He wasn’t used to people being as direct with him as Keith was. “You really mean that, huh? Not being good at...talking.”
“Yes. So please, from here on out, if you could just say shit and stop making me guess what you mean.”
“Are you dating Shiro?” Lance asked.
Keith’s entire face crumpled in disgust. “What? No!”
“Okay!” Lance defend himself. “I was just confused because I didn’t realize you lived together, and he’s all like shirtless in your apartment!”
“He’s just crashing here for a bit until he finds a new place!” Keith yelled back. “God, that’s so fucking gross!”
“‘So fucking gross’. Really?” Lance poked. He didn’t know why he was arguing this so hard, but he blamed Keith. “It’s so gross to think you might be attracted to the literal Adonis living in your home?”
“Adonis? Really?”
Lance pointed to the door. “DID YOU SEE HIM?”
“I hate this conversation so much.”
“You asked me-“
“And I REGRET IT.” Keith said, finishing the convo. The room was quiet, only broken by the quiet tuning of Keith’s guitar.
It was then that Lance realized he still in the entry way, his shoes still on. “Should I-?” He asked, shaking his foot and gesturing to the pile of shoes by the door.
“Uh, yeah,” Keith answered, implying he wanted Lance to take off his shoes. “Please, actually. Thanks.”
“Awesome.” Lance said. As he untied his laces, he felt comfortable asking. “So what was wrong with his apartment?”
“Whose?”
“Shiro’s.”
“Oh,” Keith said. “Uh, he broke up with his boyfriend. Fiancé, actually. Needed a place to crash.”
“Huh.” Lance said, still finding it weird to look through this window into Shiro’s life. “Well, that was nice of you.”
“He’s my friend.”
“Yeah,” Lance agreed. He appreciated how obviously Keith had said it, like he hadn’t ever thought of another option. “Probably hard to bring anyone over though. With a roommate.”
“It’s not like I was really bringing anyone over anyway.” Keith said. He flopped on the couch, playing a quiet riff.
“Really? Too famous for Tinder?” Lance joked.
“I’m not really that famous,” Keith said easily. “Maybe to like a super niche audience. At least before.”
“Hmm,” Lance replied. He wanted to ask about the concert, but he remembered how Keith had reacted to Matt that morning. He thought better of it. Instead, he barreled into the ironically less invasive conversation. “So you don’t date then?”
“Not really,” said Keith.
“No goth girls lining up at your door?” Lance asked. Then, wanting to be inclusive, “Goth boys?”
Keith laughed, a small scoff of a thing. “I’m not really into goth anything, if I’m being honest. But if you’re subtly trying to ask my sexuality, I’m gay.”
Lance laughed. “And you said you were bad at subtext.”
Keith smiled through his bangs. Lance’s heart felt weird, but he decided it was heart burn from his coffee.
“Well, not that you asked, but I’m bi.” Lance explained, finally walking into the living room. “God didn’t want to play favorites, so he made me for everyone.”
“How kind of him.” Keith said dryly. He was smiling, though, so Lance took it as Keith’s version of a joke.
“I agree,” Lance nodded. “So boys, but no boys right now?”
“Yup.”
“Are you sure you aren’t aromatic?”
“Yup.”
“How do you know?” Lance asked. When Keith stayed silent, Lance laughed to himself. “You had a crush on Shiro didn’t you.”
Keith looked deeply offended, which made Lance laugh. “When I was, like, fucking twelve!”
Through chuckles, Lance screamed to the vaulted ceilings. “I KNEW IT!” Keith threw one of the grey, Ikea pillows at him.
Lance caught it easily, holding it against his chest. “It’s fine, we’re all allowed one embarrassing, gay awakening. Personally, mine was Brendon Urie before he turned out to be a total weirdo. You don’t get worse than that.”
Keith laughed, and the two fell into a comfortable silence again.
“So have you thought about it?” Lance asked. “Dating? Or are you just against it all.”
“Why are you so curious about it?”
“Come on, man. You practically annotated my diary. I feel like it’s only fair I have some cringe material against you as collateral.”
Keith laughed again. “I guess that’s fair. But no, I’m not against dating. If I found someone, I’d entertain it, but I just haven’t really seen myself with anyone.”
Lance tilted his head, feeling like a curious dog. “Ever?”
Keith shrugged. “I guess not.”
“Why not?”
He stretched his arms above his head, showing off a small patch of skin where his shirt hiked up. “I don’t know. I’m comfortable with my life, so I’ve never really seen the need to changing it.”
“Oof, can’t relate,” Lance argued. “I love Love. Probably too much, if I’m being honest. My older brother married his high school sweetheart, and my parents are obsessed with each other, so I’ve always been around it. Looking forward to finding Mr. or Mrs. Lance Sanchez someday soon!”
“Sanchez?” Keith asked. “I thought your last name was McClain?”
“It’s my mom’s name,” Lance explained. “I figured a white name was going to open more doors for me in the industry. Plus, I don’t want to be stuck in any category just yet because the world is racist. Legally, though, its still Sanchez.”
“Huh,” Keith responded. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
“Of course, it’s my dream.” Lance shrugged. “And I feel like that’s as good as a transition as we’re gonna get, too.” Lance ran back to the door to grab his guitar.
“Ready?”
Keith smiled, adjusting his grip on his own instrument. “Let’s go.”