Fletch had chosen Monty over Gemma. Honestly, the bloke was hurting. Things were getting better. And besides, Monty was a lot of fun. Always full of music. He was more than just a drummer. All sorts of songs were floating around in his head. Some nights they stayed up jamming in his room. It was lovely and so true.
Except, he missed Gemma, a little. Possibly Monty did too, only he wasn't saying.
"You think we're loons?" Fletch had to wonder about their situation with her.
"Is that what we are?" Monty gave him a goofy smile.
"Why am I like this?" Fletch was concerned. "I want to do the right thing, and I think I have, but she's on mind, you know. I hate it."
"Don't try to fight it." Monty told him. "She is good for us, and if she's given the time, maybe she'll come back."
"But she's going to London." Fletch reminded him as he laid in bed strumming his guitar.
"Such the shits, aye." Monty shrugged finding a cool melody on his little keyboard.
"Tell me about it." Just then Fletch's cell vibrated. It was Gemma. "Speak of the devil." He grinned as he took the call. "What is it, luv?" Naturally, that sat her off. He grinned more, listening to her crisis.
"If I do this for you, will you come and hang out with us." He looked at Monty then. Perhaps their troubles were over.