Generation Why Bother

While we were in the taxi on the way to get back on the private jet to go home, I called Andy, knowing he’d probably be awake at that hour, probably drawing or watching TV. It wasn’t just to let him know we were on our way home; we had to let him know Chuck had discovered his power – no matter how badly he’d likely take the news on the inside, he had to know.

He had just groaned over the phone and had the same reaction as all of us. “So, he can’t really hurt anyone…?”

“Well, he could blind somebody,” I had bargained.

After we flew back to Chicago, I drove everybody home and crashed in bed, sleeping like a log because I hadn’t slept on the plane. At that point it was already Sunday, but I didn’t consider it the next day until the sun shined through my windows, reminding me of Chuck and how it was all coming together so fast – in just a matter of time, we’d all be caught up.

When Tegan and I went to the apartment that next day, seeing as how it was a Sunday we were just looking to chill with the band a little more, looking forward to a lazy afternoon. However, upon walking in, we discovered that Andy wasn’t there – he was instead at a local magazine company doing an interview. The rest of the band was there, though, doing their own little things. Chance had his guitar as usual, sitting on an unburned part of the couch; Anthony was writing; Mick was cleaning. Chuck and Riley were sitting on the couch playing some game on one of their laptops.

Mick greeted Tegan and I as we walked in and explained what Andy was doing. “He’s out talking about that show we did where you saved that kid, Tegan.” He ruffled her hair while she slapped his hand away. “She’s in a little bit of trouble and put us in a panic, but she did save someone, and Andy’s got a good sense of damage control for these situations.”

Anthony, staring at the paper in front of him and scratching something out, called out, “He could control it better if he let someone else go with him, but no, he just can’t let that happen.”

Riley looked up from his laptop. They were playing chess from what I could see. “Boy, you’re just a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?”

That earned him a nice hard glare from cold-hearted hot-hands himself.

Before anything ruder was said, Mick interjected and ran over to Chuck and Riley, grabbing their shoulders from above the couch. “Oh ho ho, you’re a joker, aren’t you Riley? Um…” He looked down the hall and bit his lip. “Let’s…let’s get you two in the workout room. Can never exercise too much, you hear me?”

Mick was good at dispelling conflict sometimes, but he wasn’t what you would call “subtle.”

He led them to the spare room with his hands on their arms, all the while Riley objected by helplessly shouting, “He’s in the marching band and I’m on the baseball team, we don’t need no more of this crap!”

When they were gone, leaving the apartment silent again, Tegan and I didn’t have much else to do besides sit on the couch in front of the completely-absorbed Chance and just bask in the uneventful day. Anthony was off in his own little writing world, probably starting another co-written song with Andy, though after a few minutes, he grunted and brushed his hair back, turning around from his seat at the counter.

I could either help or hinder by addressing the elephant in the room; I did anyway. That was my big risk of the day. “So, I take it things haven’t been all smooth sailing right now?”

“Yeah, kinda,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his tiny chest. “We’re all under a lot of pressure right now, and Andy’s probably under the most. He didn’t take too kindly to me making him cut a few things off his plate, either.”

Tegan tried to relate their issues to ours, but we all knew they were in deeper. “Tell me about it. Me and Oshie don’t even have Johnny Cool to look to anymore because the author took a hiatus,” she complained.

Anthony cracked a slight smirk.

“It’s like we don’t even have our favorite comic book superhero to look up to while we’re controlling our own powers,” she went on, summing it up perfectly.

“You know, it’s sort of funny. We’re all doing our own things, us as a band and you guys dealing with school and other crap, and yet one thing we all have in common is that we all still kind of view it like we’re in a comic book,” he continued, still smiling faintly and kicking his feet aimlessly. “I’m definitely guilty of it too, but we should stop that soon. This is all way more real than what we see it to be. We can’t take a hiatus like Anchor did.”

For a second I was gonna ask why he knew who the author of Johnny Cool and the Dudes was, but then I remembered how he told us that Andy used to draw fanart of him all the time in college. He was bound to know a thing or two about such a popular comic, too. I wondered if he read it like we did – religiously, or just as a casual thing.

“Yeah, I understand that, but it’s so hard sometimes…especially when we’re all so new to this and don’t really have something to look up to,” Tegan retorted, straightening up her hair and getting the bangs out of her eyes.

Anthony looked off to the side and mumbled, “Trust me, I know how you feel. I don’t show it well, but I do.”

Chance hadn’t looked up from his guitar that whole time, nor had he given any intimation that he was listening or absorbing the conversation. That’s why it took us by surprise when his eyes got all wide and he popped in with, “You feel something?” and turned around to face Anthony.

Anthony just stuck his tongue out at the guitarist. I don’t think he meant any offense and I don’t think any was taken. It was a weird thought, though, realizing that if Andy had said it to him, an argument probably would’ve started and Anthony would’ve set something else on fire…