Mom looked thoughtful. “What does Sophie think of you getting this job? What are your plans?”

“Sophie and I broke up,” I said, returning to my seat at the kitchen table.

“My goodness, you sure like to do everything at once,” Mom commented, pursing her lips. “Though I can’t say that I’m surprised. There’s a reason you refused to bring her around to see your family. And when a man can’t introduce his lady to his mother, that says a lot.”

“I didn’t refuse to bring her over, Ma,” I protested.

“I met the girl twice, Mitch. Twice. You used to bring Gracie around all the time. Sophie seemed nice enough, she just wasn’t for you.” My mother got up and went over to stir the chili. “Does that mean you’ll bring Gracie over for dinner sometime soon? I miss that girl. She always loved my carrot cake. She has good taste.”

My mother was observant. Way too observant sometimes. She had the mother’s intuition thing down to a science. “What makes you think this has anything to do with Gracie?” I asked, more for my own amusement than anything else. There was no fooling Eileen Abrams.

Mom gave me a look that could only be described as a bitch, please. I covered my mouth with my fist and coughed to cover my laughter.

“I may be old, but I’m not stupid, child. Now get into the cabinet and find the chili flakes for your dear mother.”

I did as I was told and grabbed the spice she needed. “Sophie and I broke up because we weren’t right for each other.”

“And it took you a year to figure out? It seems you’ve become a little soft in the head in your old age. Maybe it’s all that noise from your amplifiers. It short circuited something,” Mom teased.

“You’re hysterical, Mom,” I deadpanned.

Mom shook in a handful of red flakes and passed the container back to me so I could put it away. “I didn’t raise you to be a runner, Mitch. And it seems to me that you’ve been running a marathon.”

“What did Charlotte tell you?” I asked, instantly suspicious. Charlotte knew something had happened with Gracie, even though she didn’t know the particulars. I was sure she and Mom had been having a good gab at my expense.

Mom widened her eyes innocently. “What would Charlotte have told me, hmm?”

I gave my mom a sideways hug. “You’re sneaky, Ma, I’ll give ya that. But I’ve grown immune to your machinations.”

She put her arm around my waist and hugged me in return. “So, you didn’t answer my question. Will you be bringing Gracie over soon? I can make lasagna.”

I kissed the top of my mother’s head. “I’ll work on it,” I said.

“You guys had to know this was coming. It breaks our hearts to lose you,” Tate was saying.

Cole rolled his eyes and Garrett yawned.

Jordan was checking his phone and texting Maysie updates.

The conversation was going exactly as we had expected.

Danvers and Tate from Pirate Records had launched into a lengthy explanation about overhead costs versus incomings. Gross profit and other words I didn’t really understand. What I did understand was that they had other artists that were making them money. Generation Rejects, while a great commodity, wasn’t hitting their key markets. Blah, blah, blah.

Neal tried his hardest to push them on elements of our contract but it seemed it was all there in black and white. Pirate had the right to terminate our contract with notice. End of discussion. We didn’t push too hard though. We were all in agreement that the ride was over.

“Guys, do you have any questions?” Tate asked. He sounded distracted and more than ready to conclude the conversation. Not that I blamed him. Dumping bands had to be the sucky part of his job.

“I think the guys understand everything,” Neal piped up. We had spoken to him before the phone call and laid some stuff on the table.

Jordan told him that he had taken a song writing position with a smaller, independent label. He would be mostly working from home, which would be perfect once his kid was born.

Garrett had also used that time to drop the bombshell that he was moving to Boston to be with Riley. None of us were particularly surprised by that one.

Neal hadn’t been thrilled with the news that Generation Rejects were disbanding. “You guys can still go places. With your talent and sex appeal, we can find you the right market. I think you’re selling yourself short here.”

“Neal, we appreciate everything you’ve done. We really do. But at this point, we’ve got to move onto other things. We’ll always be Generation Rejects but we can’t commit to any projects right now,” Garrett told him firmly.

“Uh, well you’re still representing me,” Cole spoke up. We had all looked at him questioningly.

Cole had shrugged. “You guys all have other shit going on. I’m a front man, guys. It’s what I want to do. So I hope you all are cool with me maybe going out on my own.” He seemed nervous and for good reason. Last year we had been fucking pissed when he had left to do that very thing.

Now, it seemed the right thing for him to do.

“That’s cool, dude. You know you have our support,” Jordan said. Garrett and I both nodded in agreement. Cole looked relieved.

“Thanks, guys. I’d been freaking the fuck out about what you were going to say,” he admitted.”

“Cole, of course I’m going to represent your solo career. Let’s talk again about those solo gigs next week,” Neal had broken in. The rest of the conversation had been pretty standard after that.

“I know this has to all come as quite a blow but it’s in no way indicative of your talent,” Tate went on.

Garrett made a jerking off gesture and I tried not to laugh my ass off.

Yeah, we were all done with playing this stupid fucking game.

“No, we don’t have any questions,” I said into the phone. I figured some mild back patting was in order though, so I put on my Chapstick and kissed some ass. We didn’t want to burn any bridges. “But we do just want to say thank you to everyone at Pirate for believing in the band and our music. I’m sorry this couldn’t have been a long-term relationship for all of us.”

“This doesn’t mean that if we see the market change or you come back to us with something new we can’t try again. We’re your biggest fans,” Danvers said.

We all looked at each other. I saw the same thought reflected on everyone’s faces.

Were we doing the right thing?

Could we really walk away from this dream we had shared for so damn long?

How could we possibly say goodbye to the Rejects?

Then the moment passed and we all knew that the time had come to travel a different road.

Even if it took us in opposite directions.

“Thanks, guys,” Jordan said, neither committing nor refuting the idea.

It was always good to leave a door halfway open.

When we hung up the phone, the four of us sat in silence.

“That was sort of painless. I thought it would feel a lot worse,” Cole remarked, looking thoughtful.

“I did too,” I admitted. Because when all was said and done, I felt the same as when I broke up with Sophie.

Relief.

“I mean I do feel shitty about it. We worked our asses off to get a label to notice us. Now it’s over. The whole thing feels a little anticlimactic,” Garrett said.

“I had hoped for at least a little yelling and an f-bomb or two,” I remarked dryly.

“Guys, hey, I’m still here,” Neal’s voice came through the phone, startling us. We had forgotten about him.

“It’s been a real honor working with you the last year. I do think that you’re an amazing band and there’s still a lot out there for you guys. So don’t shelve the band entirely.”

“We won’t Neal. Thanks again for everything. You’ve been a great manager,” Jordan told him.

“I hope one day to represent you all again. And Cole, we’ll talk next week. I think we can make something great happen for you.”