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To begin with, it wasn't clear whose idea it was. Steve's only introduction to music was singing along with the radio, and while he wasn't a bad singer, per se, it wasn't as if he could play an instrument or read sheet music. He had been to a total of one concert, and he barely registered the drummer.

But, as it turned out, Steve would do a lot to help Eddie in a pinch, which apparently made him the perfect candidate. It was an unexpected turn of events, but it was perfect. Steve barely slept anyway, and when he did, he was plagued with nightmares. If he tacked on drum practice onto his work schedule, it just meant less time to stress over all the negativity threatening to hijack his brain and bring him down.

Not to mention, banging out a rhythm on a drumkit was insanely cathartic. Steve was able to get out all of his aggression. The louder the drumline, the better. It might not have come as naturally to Steve as singing, but Gareth was still impressed with how quickly he picked it up. While he was not on Gareth's level, he would do as a temporary replacement while Gareth healed, which was good enough for Steve.

There was just one small problem.

Eddie didn't exactly know about this plan, which meant Steve hadn't actually played drums with the rest of the band. So when Steve rolled up to band practice on an unassuming Thursday, it was as if a storm had suddenly descended upon them.

"Uh...hi?" Steve greeted the rest of the band, his eyes and smile honing in on Eddie. The room was silent, the tension palpable. The band members exchanged bewildered glances, unsure of how to react to this unexpected turn of events.

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"And that is why we practice." He replied, though he gave a one-shouldered shrug a moment later, "And look, we'll know if you're cranking out the drumline for a different song, and we'll stop, and obviously if you need to stop you can just... y'know, stop, we'll hear it if you drop out, we can re-set and start over from there."

Jeff nodded, "We're lucky if Gareth can get all the way through Tamper With The Evidence the first time." Eddie nodded in turn, "He's fine if we're on stage, but rehearsals always gets snarled somewhere."

That eased Steve's nerves. If they held him to the same standards as Gareth, then at least he would feel they would give him a chance. It wasn't like they had many other options. Steve was willing to work for free, at least until they started making money from their gigs. Another drummer might not be so generous with their time.

Steve nodded, his excitement apparent as he played with the rest of the band. Despite the initial overwhelm, he was exhilarated. He could now understand why Eddie enjoyed playing in a band so much. "I think I'll be okay then. It's a whole different ballgame playing with you guys than just drilling through everything with Gareth. It feels more complete, you know?"

Eddie grinned at that, "Yeah, it's easier to get lost in the melody and forget you're actually part of it, we've all had those moments, I mean, shit, sometimes I still miss the lyric cue sometimes and we end up having to do an extra-long intro."

Jeff was nodding in agreement to this, and Craig just snorted softly, but it was amusement, and the friendly jab that followed was: "Also with Tamper With The Evidence, so maybe we should take it out of the lineup."

Eddie scoffed in turn, though the same amusement was definitely running through his own response, "Oh not a chance in hell."

Steve observed the banter between Eddie and Craig, feeling a sense of belonging creeping in. It was nice to see Eddie in his element, and it felt even better to be accepted into their circle. One of the things he missed the most about sports was the camaraderie, and this was a semblance of that. It wasn't the same when he felt like a coach in peewee sports around the kids, even though he knew they weren't that young anymore.

"Sounds like Tamper With The Evidence should be one I prioritize practicing, then." Steve's eyes sparkled with amusement and passion. "Duly noted." He twirled a stick simply because it was there, and he knew he would be fidgeting otherwise.

"Well, do we want to dig into your songs, then? See what we can get through?"

If nothing else they weren't holding him to higher standards than they did Gareth, and maybe that came out to the same thing in the end, but as it was, Eddie just gave a shrug at the question, "You've got a set list, so far we got through the one warmup without stopping, let's see if we can go for two."

Even with Gareth, their record of practice songs in a row without stopping was three. Though that was invariably because one of them wanted to go over one again even if there hadn't been any actual mistakes, but that was also what practice was for, to make sure everyone was comfortable.

Steve was skeptical that he could get through that many without stopping, but he was determined to make a good impression. He might make a mistake here or there, but he had gotten better at quickly recovering instead of beating himself up over the minor error. Now, if only he could apply that to his daily dealings.

Steve knew he had become a perfectionist, born out of his parents' (father's, mostly) nit-picking. No matter how hard Steve tried, he would never be good enough in their eyes. But here, behind the drumkit, they couldn't get to him. He might not be perfect, but he didn't have to be. Practice makes perfect, or so the saying went, and Steve would keep striving to improve.

When they launched into the set list, Steve's confidence wasn't all there yet, but it grew as he played. He felt a synergy with the rest of the band, such that he couldn't have felt just hashing out the drum parts in Gareth's garage. It was exhilarating. Steve didn't want to stop, even when Jeff called a time-out after the third song.

Eddie's question, as it always was when someone called a halt, the same as they gave him when he did the same, was: "What's up?"

Jeff just shook his head, pointing at Steve, "There's no way you got that good with just a couple quick and dirty lessons from Gareth. You're definitely some kind of robot."

That was enough to actually make Eddie laugh, shaking his head, "C'mon, man, just because Gareth's got more patience for teaching than you do doesn't mean Steve's some kind of terminator." He paused then, brow furrowing in utter mock-concern, turning on Steve himself, "Right?"

Steve snorted at Jeff's accusation and threw his hands up, nearly dropping both sticks in the process but managing to catch one of them one-handed. Jock reflexes.

"You got me, I'm a robot," he replied, deadpan. He chuckled, shaking his head before bending over to grab the dropped drumstick.

"No, no, I'm flesh and blood, I promise. I just had an obscene amount of free time and an unhealthy work ethic." It was how he got so good at swimming, training at all hours of the day and night, but he had promised his dad he would win his swim meets. It was the only way his parents would agree to the in-ground swimming pool in the first place.

Eddie snorted a soft laugh, nodding once, "There, see? Now it makes sense how he and Gareth get along." He raised both brows then, fingers sliding along the strings of his guitar in something like a nervous tic, once they really got started he didn't like stopping, too much energy even without a crowd to fuel him, "Do we need to run that one again? Or moving onto the next?"

"Again." The answer came from both Craig and Jeff and made Eddie laugh, just nodding once, "Alright, again it is. Steve, count us off."

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