Pretenders

Missed You

Even though Mike had been dreading how much time was left on the Fort Minor tour before he was finally back with the Linkin Park guys, the weeks had blown by in a mix of performance, keeping appearances, and sneaking in his nightly chats with Chester. He hadn't been able to call every night - the keeping appearances part of things was getting in the way - but it was enough to keep the line of communication open.

Now he was restless in the hotel room in Tokyo, waiting for Chester and the other guys to arrive. It would be good to see his bandmates, but it was Chester that Mike couldn't wait to wrap his arms around, to nuzzle his face next to. They'd talk over each other in their excitement, the way they always did, and Mike's face would hurt from laughing after only five minutes together. He was looking forward to it more than any time he could ever remember, and he knew it was because it had been months since they'd been together. It was the longest separation since Chester joined the band in 1998.

It's almost been eight years. We've been together so long.

Mike hopped up off the bed and went over to the wall of windows to look out. He loved the high rise hotel and the view of Tokyo. He'd already been there half the day and had dinner for the six of them planned out at a sushi place nearby. It covered everyone's dietary restrictions, and Mike knew it would be incredible in the city. Fresh and expertly prepared, and he was ready to soak up the culture and company of his closest friends.

It already felt different from the rest of his Fort Minor tour, and even though the Linkin Park guys would only be with him for the one show tomorrow, it had Mike in a fantastic mood. A whole different mindset, the kind that included shaking the hands of fans and signing autographs with genuine smiles and Chester at his side. It was a one hundred and eighty degree turn from looking out over a crowd to find a woman for his bodyguard to pull aside and bring to the bus after a show, from the weed and booze and losing himself. Mike was giddy with excitement.

Everything from LAX to actually arriving at the Tokyo hotel was a blur in Chester's mind. There had been so much waiting. He was pretty sure Dave had already had enough of him for one day, and even though they were out of the airport and done checking in at the front desk and on their way to their rooms to get cleaned up and ready for dinner, Chester felt the need to apologize again. He slowed down his steps to fall in line with the redhead. "Seriously, you can't hate me forever."

Dave rolled his eyes as he dragged his one suitcase behind him. They were only in Tokyo for two days. He had a total of four outfits with him. One suitcase was enough. "Of course I can't. We're going to dinner in an hour. I know you'll be there." He glanced over at the singer before he elbowed him playfully. "I'll be happy when Mike's tour is done. Then he can go back to sitting next to you."

"That's right! You know, it's really Mike's fault," Chester reasoned with a grin while he watched the numbers on the doors while they walked. "If he wasn't off being a rap star, he would have been on that plane with us, and he would have sat next to me instead."

"Remind me to be nicer to Shinoda next time I see him," Dave said before he motioned at that upcoming door. "This is me."

They stopped and Dave turned to face his bandmate to finish up the conversation. He loved Chester, but he was ready to have a peaceful hour away from him. All of Chester's energy was great on stage - fantastic for all their live performances, meet and greets, and interviews. Even in the studio, that energy came across the music and pulled people in. But when you crammed that ball of energy into a tiny seat on a plane for fourteen hours, it was a bit much. Bouncing legs, constantly messing with the seat trays, the seatbelts, the overhead air and lights, whining about not being able to smoke, drinking too much coffee and then having to pee every hour, leaning his chair back, then up, then back. Flipping movies on the inset television, like he was at home on the couch, not thirty thousand feet in the air.