“So, have you let him set it up, yet?”

It was early. The tantalising aroma of freshly fried bacon wafted across the large kitchen-dining room. Johnny was still asleep. Only the couple were in the room. Matthew stood at the stove, his eyes fixed on the hot skillet. Valary sat at the table, observing him with sharp eyes. He pondered her question as he flipped a strip of bacon from the pan to one of the plates sitting to the side.

“I should,” he finally answered. “That was the point, really.” Matthew glanced over at her absently casting an appreciative look at her appearance. Even in the simple shift and denim shorts that she usually wore at breakfast time, she looked sexy. At least to him. He liked the way they showed off her womanly curves.

Val recognised the look in her husband’s eyes and smirked a little, knowing his mind. “Well, do it today. Nothing else for you to do, right?”

Matthew shook his head returning his gaze to the next piece of bacon. “Nope.” He moved the meat around with the tongs. “You got work?”

Val nodded as she watched him work the tongs like a pro. The tendons in his forearm stretched and tightened, the muscles flexed as he twisted them, flicking the bacon over the heat. She enjoyed watching him, no matter what it was he was doing. Matt could be mowing the lawn and she’d be into it. Not that he did that much; they hired a gardener to work on the place, considering they were both working professionals.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “No rest for the wicked, as they say.”

“Hah, you saying you’re wicked?” The corners of Matt’s mouth twitched a little.

Val laughed, the sound causing the hairs on his arms to tingle. “Only in bed, my love,” she answered. He shot her a look, one eyebrow lifted.

He pointed the spatula at her. “Watch it, or I won’t let you leave the house.” His voice took on a rough edge, a hint of tease thrown in. She flashed an innocent smile his way before leaning over to look at the paper that was spread open in front of her.

“Hey, there’s an article on Papa Gates.”

Brian’s dad, Brian Haner Snr, was affectionately known as Papa Gates as a nod to Brian Jnr’s nickname, Synyster Gates. That was a whole story in and of itself. Back in their young and wild days the four boys had given each other aliases to call each other by, basically to piss people off. Of course, now they just did it because they were so used to interchanging their real names with the nicknames that it was automatic. Matt’s name, though, was the only one that had taken on a new level of meaning. Anyway, Brian’s dad, being a political entertainer and session muso, had decided he wanted in on his son’s name game.

Judging by the header in the paper that morning, the media had quickly caught on.

“What’s it say?” Matthew asked as he dished the rest of the bacon out and started on the eggs. He listened with one ear to Val’s reply while concentrating on cracking them without getting shells in the skillet.

“‘Papa Gates has promised the world to New Huntington.’ That’s the headline.” Val lifted the paper and squinted at the smaller print that made up the main article. “It’s talking about how he’s promising to make changes that will make the ‘lifestyle’ better for the residents’ here. Doesn’t say how, though.”

Matthew snorted as he finished the eggs and prepared the dishes. “Typical political spin.”

“Yeah, exactly the type of spin that Elliott wants to stay away from.” Val set the paper back down as Matt came over with two plates, and put them down on the table. “He reckons none of it works.”

“Probably true,” Matthew mused as he settled on the chair across from her. Picking up his fork, he stabbed at a piece of bacon before looking at her with a crooked grin. “Funny thing, Val. Papa G’s such a crazy guy and El’s the exact opposite. But they both do what’s least expected of them.”

Val shrugged as she pushed her food around her plate. “Guess even Papa G knows when to be serious.”

“Yeah, people are such surprising creatures,” Matt muttered before stuffing his mouth with the bacon on the end of his fork. As he did a thought popped into his head. He wasn’t just talking about his friend’s father, or the Mayor. Deep down, he realised he was talking about himself as much as anyone he knew. That revelation unnerved him, though.

Being so strong on order and predictability, Matt wasn’t comfortable with the fact that there were things hidden inside him that even he was unsure about. However, at the same time he wasn’t actually all that surprised. It wasn’t as if the thoughts he’d been having about certain things in his life had just come upon him. They had had time to brew inside his mind. He was just apprehensive of what it would mean if he acted upon those thoughts. Not that he would allow such fear of the consequences to change his thoughts. Yet, having been in The Creed for over six years had made him cautious of his thoughts and how they would affect the people around him. One reason why he rarely spoke his mind, even to those closest to him.

Forcing his mind from his introspection, Matt glanced toward the kitchen doorway, his eyes drawn there as a moth to the flame. Johnny was standing there his arms crossed over his chest, one hand tugging at the T-shirt he was wearing. It was one of Matt’s and was obviously too large for him. He looked a little lost in it.

Afterward, Matt wondered if he hadn’t just heard the younger man coming down the hall. Because he had no idea why he would have looked in that direction otherwise.

“Hey,” he said softly, so as not to spook the younger male, “we’re just having breakfast, want anything?”

Johnny took a moment to respond, but eventually shook his head and mumbled, “Not hungry.”

“Okay,” Matt, not one for labouring the point once he thought it was made, returned to his food.

Val smiled toward Johnny, “Grab a seat.”

Johnny rubbed at his stomach as he accepted her invitation, and walked into the kitchen, joining them at the table. Matthew shifted over a little so he could sit beside him. The younger man flashed a sleepy smile at the bigger man, before he slouched on a chair.

Quiet settled over them as the couple finished their breakfast. Johnny continued to fiddle with the shirt, staring down at the surface of the table. Matthew pushed his final piece of bacon around in the egg yolk watching as the juices soaked into the meat. Val flipped through the paper while she chewed slowly on her last mouthful of egg.

And then the doorbell chimed.

* * * * *

Brian Haner Snr stood on the threshold and surveyed the Sanders’ front yard, thinking about how much work had gone into the two large garden beds, filled with the lovely native Blue Blossoms –Ceanothus thyrsiflorus - that grew all over New Huntington. It was a testament to the young couple’s love for their city, he knew and he admired that. Aside from the fact that Matthew was one of his son’s best friends, Brian respected the young man no end.

“Papa G?”

He turned his head at Matt’s voice. The front door was open and the younger male was gazing quizzically out at him. Brian Snr smiled.

“Hey, thought I’d come by for a bit.”

“Shouldn’t you be working?”

Brian Snr snorted, “Might ask the same of you, son.”

“That’s a long story,” Matt said, as his brow furrowed. The elder male lifted his eyebrows. “Come on in, I’ll tell you ‘bout it.”

“Hah, story time with M Shadows,” Brian Snr quipped as he stepped past him. Matthew just rolled his eyes and followed him back into the house.

Brian Snr headed directly for the living room; as they entered Val walked through on her way back to the bedroom. She halted when she saw the visitor, soft smile lighting up her face.

“Brian.”

“Morning, Val,” he reached out to embrace her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and allowed him to squeeze her.

“Hey, good to see you.”

“Right back atcha,” Brian Snr rubbed her shoulders. “Thought I’d come babysit your husband for you.”

Val giggled, cheeks flushing a little. “Honestly, he needs it.”

“Hey!” Matt growled, but the corners of his mouth were twitching in amusement. Val turned her head to look at him. “I’m not a baby,” he protested, giving her a look. She just winked at him then gave the elder male a serious look.

“Keep him company; I have to go to work.”

Brian Snr nodded, “Don’t you worry about Matt. I’ll keep him busy.”

“I’m standing right here,” Matt grumbled at them. Val pressed a small hand against his left bicep. He glanced down at her.

She said, softly, “And you’ll still be here when I get home?”

He met her eyes and saw the hope and love in her warm gaze. Touching the back of his right hand to her cheek, he nodded.

“Count on it, Hun.”

Val leaned into his hand, smiling at him then she moved away, waving before leaving the room. Matthew watched her leave, his thoughts focussed on the fact that she was working and he was…not. It still bothered him that he had to stay at home while she went and did the making money thing.

Sighing, he turned to Brian Snr, “I need a drink.”

“At nine in the morning?” the elder male cocked an eyebrow. Matthew lifted his shoulders. “I didn’t think you drank much?” Brian Snr added.

Matt didn’t bother responding to that statement, because they both knew what his answer would be. It was true he wasn’t much of a drinker, but everyone had a bit to drink when something was stressing them out. He was no exception. Flashing a smile at the elder male he just shrugged again and headed back for the kitchen.

Johnny was still in there and when the two men walked in he glanced up a look of surprise ghosting across his face upon recognising the elder man.

“Mr Haner?”

Brian Snr blinked then shook his head. “Johnny. What’re you doing here, I thought you were-”

“He’s not,” Matthew interrupted before the moment turned awkward. “He’s staying here with us. Long story.” As he spoke, Matt walked into the kitchen, going straight for the fridge. Brian Snr leaned against the bench head cocked to one side.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Matt nodded as he grabbed a bottle of water and tossed one to the other man. “Giving him a break.”

“From what?”

“From…” Matt frowned, looking over toward Johnny. He was listening while still eating his breakfast. “From everything.”

“Ah, okay. And, what about you? How come you’re not down at the barracks?” Brian watched as Matt popped the cap on his water. The younger man seemed reluctant to answer the question. He shifted on his feet and leaned back against the fridge a closed expression coming over his face. “Matt?”

Matthew tilted his bottle staring down into the clear liquid. “Got time off,” he finally said no inflection in his voice. He looked up at Brian Snr. “Trying to figure out what to do with myself.” He licked at his top lip before adding, “Trying to stay out of trouble.” He scrunched up his face and gave a harsh laugh. “Bit hard, though.”

Brian Snr scoffed an edge of sarcasm to his tone, “You’d never get into trouble.”

It wasn’t common knowledge, but the elder male knew Matthew well enough to know that trouble was in fact his middle name. From the fights he used to get into at high school to the inconsistencies’ in the way he felt about his profession, Matthew Sanders was not the straitlaced person he liked to front as.

Of course, the elder Haner was one of the only people in New Huntington that really knew Matthew’s mind. Brian Snr was, in a way, the younger male’s closest mentor. Since his parents had moved away to be with his younger sister, she was a professional basketball player and played for a team on the other side of the country, Matt had turned to his friends’ parents for support. And somehow he had gravitated to Brian’s dad, the elder Haner holding a similar mindset to his.

And so, his statement held a lot of meaning that no one else would pick up on.

Matthew smirked at him, “You would know, Papa G.”

“Indeed. Tell me, you get up to anything interesting lately?”

“Well,” Matthew hesitated for a split second then said, “I got you something.”

Brian Snr lifted his eyebrows. Johnny, who had finished, looked over as well a curious expression on his face.

“What is it?” Brian Snr asked. His curiosity was piqued. Something about the way the younger male had revealed that tidbit of information caused several different thoughts to stir in his mind. But most prevalent was the thought that Matt was up to something.

Matthew pushed away from the fridge and made for the door, speaking over his shoulder, “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

* * * * *

The custom Schechter was a marvel of modern design. Brian Snr did not think he had seen a guitar so well made in his many years of being a session musician. The black and white stripes gave the instrument an elegant yet distinguished body, the perfect match for a man with dignified tastes.

He stared down at the guitar with mixed emotions. The first time he’d held the instrument had been after he’d had it commissioned three years previously. But, he had known back then that he couldn’t risk being caught with it. It was an electric guitar and he had no need for it because he already had one that was provided him by the government. And if he were to be honest, it was in fact illegal for him to have had it produced. So, he’d gotten rid of it, anonymously leaving it at the Creed barracks for them to pick up and store away.

Brian Snr could not fathom why Matthew would be returning it to him now. But, judging by the shit-eating grin on the younger man’s face, he was most likely about to find out the reasoning.

Still he felt he had to ask, “Why, Matt?”

Matt stood opposite him arms crossed over his chest, a wide smile on his lips. The three of them, including Johnny who had followed them in silence, were in Matt’s basement, surrounded by his posters, the soft strains of a piano concerto playing in the background. The mood was peaceful, yet there was an anticipatory tension in the air as well.

Matt chuckled as he answered, “I want you to give that to Syn.” He held up a hand pre-empting the elder male’s questions. “Don’t ask. Just give it to him. He’ll probably come round here after and piss me off with asking why.”

Brian Snr frowned, “I think I already know why.”

“Yes. Yes you do.” He didn’t bother furthering that statement, just smiled at the elder man, a knowing look in his eyes. The elder Haner sensed a shared moment there, knowledge of unspoken things passing between them. He nodded slightly.

Matt tilted his head then walked over to the stereo, turning the classical music off as he opened the cupboard above it. There were assorted items stacked on the shelves, a couple of old cassette tapes, a few books, but that was not what he reached for. Leaning up and sticking his hand right to the back, he pulled out an old, tattered textbook. Pages were falling out of the front, back and middle of the well-read tome. But, it wasn’t any of that Matthew was searching for.

Brian Snr raised his eyebrows as Matt flipped through the pages. “What’re you looking for?”

“This,” Matthew said, holding up a worn envelope. He closed the book, setting it on the edge of his desk. Then opening the envelope, he slid two sheets of paper from it. “A letter. It’s an interesting read.”

“Who’s it from?” Brian Snr asked, as he absently stroked his hand along the neck of the Schechter.

Matt smirked, “I’ll tell you in a minute, just let me read it…” He leaned back against the desk, crossing his ankles as he started to read from the first page. “‘Dear Matthew, thank you for your letter. It was interesting…saddening to hear how much New Huntington has changed in the years since I left. Many, many years. I was your age when I left. I remember growing up with freedom of expression being a big part of my life. So, to hear how the government has been suppressing the people is disheartening to me. To think it’s all because of a misunderstanding to do with my band and then the twisting of certain facts is even harder to hear. Music is music, wouldn’t you agree? No matter what it is.

‘I’m guessing you’ve taken a huge risk, reaching out to me? You lead The Creed? I’ve heard things about the organisation. Must be difficult to keep up a front when all you really want to do is break the rules. I for one was never much one for following the rules. But, I’d never knowingly cause harm to anyone. Or do any of those things we were accused of. It’s good to know there is someone out there who knows and believes the truth.

‘I’m sixty-seven. Celebrated my birthday the day before I got this letter, actually. I’m hardly anyone’s idea of a rebel. But, somehow I’ve become a poster ‘boy’ for every young man who wants to form a band. It’s flattering, but I do realise how dangerous that is. I mentioned I’ve heard of the Creed. Supposedly they’ve told everyone all the members of my band were…shot. But, they forgot about me. Conveniently.

‘You know what my biggest hope is? For rock music, and rock bands to once again make a name on the stages of the Americas, before I die. That’s my biggest hope, but I can’t help but think that it’s futile to think that way. Or at least that’s been my attitude for the past forty-odd years. Your letter’s given me my faith back, though. Perhaps I will see that again.

‘Let me know what you’re up to, I’m interested to keep in touch. Give this sixty-something year old some faith in the younger generation. Sincerely…’” Matt paused, looking at the two men who were listening attentively.

“Sincerely who?” Johnny asked the first he had spoken all that morning. Brian Snr leaned forward his grip tightened on the instrument in his lap. However, he didn’t repeat the question, just waited.

Matthew cleared his throat before reading from the letter, “Sincerely, Elijah Masters.” He turned to the second page and continued, casting a long look toward Johnny as he did, “He added a post script, um…it says, ‘I’m sorry for what you’ve had to do as TaskerOne. It must be devastating when someone you’re close to gets caught in the line of fire. Hopefully, the future will be brighter, not just for America as a whole, but for you and those who you call friend. My band-mates, my best buddies, are always on my mind. Always.

‘Don’t forget your friends.’”

Matt breathed out roughly as he finished, and folded the pages in neat lines before tucking them back into the envelope. Silence filled the space. Brian Snr and Johnny just stared at him as if they weren’t quite sure how to respond to what they’d just heard.

After a moment, the elder male swore in a low voice, “God…he’s still alive.”

Matthew nodded as he replaced the envelope between the pages of the textbook.

“Why…? How did you even?” Brian Snr couldn’t finish the question.

Matt shook his head slowly, lips drawn together in a line. That he wouldn’t answer. His friend’s father picked up on the fact that it was a sensitive point for him and just shook his head some more.

“You’re full of surprises, Matt. I can’t even imagine…” he gave a sour laugh. “Why do you come to me for advice?”

Matthew leaned back against the wall, shoving his hands in his pockets. He thought for a long moment, and then said with a snort, “Because you’re not on The Creed’s ‘no go’ list.”

Johnny rolled his eyes at the big man’s response and muttered, “That’d do it.”

And Brian said in a sage tone, his words holding a sort of finality to them, “Ah that explains everything, then.”