"Okay, Mike. He's your son. I suppose I just should butt out." I appreciate your concern, though," Mike said. "You're a good friend, even if you annoy...the fucking shit out of me."Carl glanced out the window at Mike's rig. "Hey, you pullin' outta here soon?" I was probably gonna catch some sleep first." Got time for a drink? There's a bar just up the road. Five minute walk, tops. On me."Mike smirked. "You're buying? I'm not gonna pass up free booze. Come on, let's--" His cell phone warbled just. Given their lack of seniority in the orchestra, it was incredibly important that they prioritize. So it was that they fell into a friendship that was distressingly platonic. He never discussed with her his need to touch her or his religion's censure of all such tendencies. His conflict lived deep inside of him, beneath the beauty of the music, the need for perfection and the chaos that was living in New York.As of October, the fall concert series began in earnest. Each weekend was fully. More

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