"So, you're officially going into retirement?"

Matt laughed and leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I wouldn't use the words 'officially' and 'retirement'."

"How would you describe it, then?"

"Well..." he looks over at the four other men sitting on the couch, and there's a flash of deja vu passing behind his eyes. "We've been a band for, what? Thirty years now? We're old men. We've got kids and wives. My kid is about to go off to college. Syn's kid just got her first car. Johnny's are about to go through the dreaded tween years, and Zacky is already in them. We've made a lot of music, played a lot of music, and now... Well," he looks back over at the interviewer before running a hand over his short cropped hair. There was grey just now starting to sprout up. "We're not going into retirement or a hiatus, that's a definite. But we're not going to do anymore touring in the near future, and we don't really have anymore ideas for an album. It's been really quiet for us, and we've decided that it's time to pack up the kits once again and put them in storage for right now."

"So, no official retirement, but also no music? How are your fans going to take this?"

There was a low chuckle in the room.

"We may not have the prettiest fans," Brian started off, cracking his knuckles silently. "We may not have the most tasteful fans or the most sober fans, but we definitely have the most loyal fans in this generation. If we say we're ready for a break, they understand. If we say we're ready to make a new album, they'll already be lined up outside the music stores a month before the release. No matter what we decide, they stick with us. Like Shadz, said. It's not an official retirement, but we have no plans of continuing with anything new."

"Yeah, I'll probably just sit on my ass all day or go play golf," Matt jokes, getting a laugh from the rest of the guys.

"So, you have kids," the interview starts off, reading from her notes. "Are they going to follow in your giant footsteps or do they have other plans?"

"Well, my twins have no music inclination," Johnny says with a laugh, and the guys nod, laughing also. "Izzy is really into art, though. Our house is filled with her random doodles and late-night paintings. She's really talented. And then Isaac just kind of keeps to himself. He was always a quiet kid, and more so now that he's growing up, ya know? He moves around from hobby to hobby. One day it's skateboarding, the next day it's surfing. He's athletic, loves sports, but doesn't really do much. Lace and I just let them do their own thing."

The interviewer nods, waiting for the next one.

"Kim and I are trying to adopt," Arin says. "There's been too many complications in the past so we're just looking for a place to settle and then start a family however we can."

"Yeah, and he's gotten enough experience from ours that he's well prepared," Zacky jokes, and the guys laugh again.

"What's your son like, Zack?"

Zacky grins and sits back against the couch. "My kid is fucking awesome. Got my great looks and his mom's taste in men."

The guys chuckle when the interviewer cokes slightly. "So you're saying, he's... um, well..."

"Yeah. Daniel plays for the other team. I fully support him, I let him be a freebird while he can. He's an awesome kid, though. Got a good head on his shoulders. Great at whatever he does. I think he's the only one in my family that's probably going to go to college for the first time in two or three generations."

The interviewer looks down and then back up from his notes. He should have seen that one coming.

"And your daughter, Brian?"

Brian's grin only seems to widen at the mention of his baby girl.

"Rachel's a daddy's girl. She's got me wrapped around her little finger. She's just really gotten into boys, so we've been keeping a close eye on her, but her grades stay up and she stays out of trouble. She got her first car about a month ago. Really into fashion - probably gonna turn out like her mom and go to art school for design."

All eyes then turn to Matt. He's staring down at the floor, lost in thought.

"And your son, Matt?"

He pops his head up, only catching the last part of the sentence.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

The guys chuckle and the interviewer smiles slightly. "Your son, Owen. What's he like? You didn't officially release anything on him until he was ten."

Matt runs another hand over his head before leaning back into the couch.

"Well, I'm not sure where to begin."

There's a pause.

"Owen, obviously named in the memory of the Rev, was born about eight weeks pre-mature," Matt starts off, setting up for a long story. "Yet he came out bigger than a full-term newborn." The interviewer's eyebrow quirks up. "He was always an interesting kid. Got his mother's skin tone and hair, and then most everything else comes from me but..."

There's another long pause.

"But there's something about him that's always thrown me off. Sometimes I'll just be looking at him across the table at dinner, and swear I see..." Matt stops mid sentence before laughing to himself and shaking his head. "I swear I see Jimmy sitting there instead. Owen was always different, always interesting. He has a mutation in his DNA that makes him have one brown eye and a blue eye. It's been that way since he was six months old. And he's just as tall as me, at seventeen, and still growing. He rarely cried as a baby, he rarely asked questions as a kid. He just always seemed to know things. And then, one day, I wake up in the middle of the night to this sound..."

The entire room has gone silent. None of the techs behind the scene is moving. All eyes are on that one man telling the story of his son.

"I grab the bat I keep by the bed and walk down stairs. There's no one on the first floor, and then I realize it's coming from the basement. So, I go down there, slowly, watching for the creaky steps, and look around."

The silence is deafening.

"And there's Owen," Matt says, finally looking up from the floor. He takes a deep breath. "Sitting behind Jimmy's old drum kit, playing it like he's been doing it all his life."

"He doesn't want to be a singer like his dad," Arin starts. "Or a guitarist like Brian and Zack and Johnny. He wants to be just like the uncle he never met." There's the silence again, but it's filled with the air of nostalgia. "He wants to be a drummer."


"That the best you got, old man?"

"Old man? Did you just call me old man?" Dad stops his dribbling and turns to look at mom. She's smirking behind her glass of lemonade. "Did you hear this little shit? He just called me an old man."

"Yeah!" I laugh, before jumping, stealing the ball from his hands, and dribbling it over to the basket before making the point. "Cause you are old. What're you now, sixty?"

"Oh haha, very funny Owen, keep laughing while I smoke you," Dad jokes before stealing the ball and shooting past me to make his own point.

"And you say I need to grow up," I smirk, shaking my head at my dad as he walks over, ball in hand.

"Five minute break?" he asks, panting for breath softly. I chuckle before nodding and taking the ball from his hands, and going over to practice my shoots. From the corner of my eye, I watch as dad walks over to mom before picking her up in his arms, out of the chair, and sitting down to put her in his lap. They share one of those kisses that parents always have, making me roll my eyes.

"How'd the interview go yesterday, sweetie?" Mom asks, resting against dad while we stay out in the late spring heat.

"So far, so good. Answered questions about the band, the music, the not-hiatus-not-retirement we're going in and the kids."

My ears go up at this. The only time the guy's have talked about us kids is to officially announce our birth, when we were nine or ten. I stay closer to them, hoping to hear.

"You answered questions about the kids?" Mom asks, and I can just imagine the surprised look on her face.

"Yeah, it was hilarious seeing the guy's face when Zack told him about Daniel," Dad laughs, making me chuckle to myself.

"Oh dear lord... No he didn't."

"Yeah, he did. It was actually really funny. You'll have to watch it when it finally comes out."

"And the other guys?"

"They told what they wanted everyone to know."

"And Owen?" Mom tries to whisper, but I can still hear her over the sound of the ball bouncing against the concrete. I don't hear dad's answer.

Hey, ducky.

Turn my attention away from my parents, I grin at the figure standing before me. I look back at my parents, and when they're too distracted by each other, I turn back.

"Hey," I greet him quietly.

How about some one on one?

I grin and nod before setting up for my next play. I'm as tall as dad and still growing, so the hoop has to be taken up every now and then, but with the lanky giant in front of me, I know I'm in for a beat down. Five minutes pass before I realize it.

"Owen!"

I stop mid dribble and catch the ball with both hands, turning away from the one only I can see, to look as my parents stand up from the lounge chair.

"Yeah, dad?"

"Go wash up! We're going out tonight."

I nod and give a thumbs up. Mom and dad walk inside before I turn back around.

"See ya, Uncle Jimmy."

See ya, ducky.