Mike absentmindedly kicked the can further down the sidewalk. Peter joined him in this ridiculous activity with eventually turned into a game. They sent the can flying everywhere, until it was Peter who interrupted it, stopping it front of the grocery store.

"I have to pick up a couple things; you mind?" Peter asked.

"No, of course not." Mike accompanied him insde. Peter looked surprised when he followed. They had only been together a few times, but thus far they'd become fairly good friends.

"I would do this later, but since we're at this end of town-"

"It's OK, Peter. I said I didn't care." Mike chuckled at the way he explained himself. He had noticed the apprehension in his new friend the first time they had lunch together when Peter grew distraught when they discussed who would pay.

"Did you ever consider being in a band?" Mike inquired, curious of Peter's thoughts on the issue.

"Why?"

"Well, you're just involved in music so much and you don't do anything about it. Just wondering."

"If I were in a band, and we were to get some kind of break, the others would want to tour or something. I wouldn't. I like to keep things simple."

"I wouldn't want to tour. Doesn't sound like a lot of fun, always having to move around. But the shows would be awesome, everyone always screaming at you. They keep asking for more; doesn't that sound at all glamorous to you?"

"In the music industry, they always expect more of you. If you come out with an album and it hits the top of the charts, everyone looks at you anticipating. They wonder, 'What's next?'. Well, say you don't want to do another album then everyone refers to you as a loser who couldn't make it in show business." Peter explained. Mike raised an eyebrow as Peter reached for the sack his groceries were in and they started to exit the store.

"So you'd never consider being in a band?"

"I'd do it for fun, not for the money or the glamour."

"Well?"

"Well, what? You don't want just fun. You want everything I just said." Peter paused at the big bulletin board of classfieds, ads, missing pets and persons and such. "I love looking at this stuff."

"Really, why?"

"Because some of the things people advertise are ridiculous. Look at this one." Peter took the pin out of the piece of paper and removed it from the board. "Roomate needed: Preferably one who already has a place, who isn't bossy, and wouldn't get mad if I wanted to play my drums as often as I please."

"Imagine that; drums." Mike added.

"Does that intrigue you? There's a number to call if you want him to move in with you."

"But Pete, I don't want a roomate. Especially one with those requests."

"Hey, if he plays the drums he's got to be musical. Maybe he'll be in your band." Peter suggested. Mike took the ad from Peter and read through it, skimming through his interests and hobbies which he included. Assuming he'd get the perfect roomate.

"He's already in a band." Peter peered over his over his arm to read it. "It says here that in his spare time, he plays with his band at The Switch Club."

"You want to check it out?" Peter asked. Mike responded by slipping the ad in his back pocket and marching out of the grocery store.

The club wasn't as old and gringy as Mike had expected it to be. It had been located on the same side of town as he lived, only he'd never heard of it.

"He's pretty good." Peter commented on the drummer's performance. "Not spectacular, but he's a drummer. If you really want to put a band together, I'd go for it."

"I never said I wanted a band. If I had a band, I couldn't control my own path. I'd have people holding me back."

"Then why'd you ask me? And why are we here?"

"I was curious with both of those. Besides, he's in a band. I can't just ask him to be in a band if he's already in one. You think he'd leave his friends to be with a stranger?"

"That's why you get him to move in with you, you hang out writing songs and doing stuff like that. Then he's got to leave the band for you. You're his friend and he likes you and you live together. It's great."

"You're jumping ahead of yourself, Peter. I haven't even met the guy."

"So go introduce yourself, he just finished." Mike nodded in affirmation and started over towards the stage where the band was talking.

"Excuse me, are you..." Mike paused, realizing he didn't know his name. He got the ad out and looked at the name on the sheet. "Micky Dolenz?"

"Yeah, that's right. Hey, is that my ad?" The man called Micky grew exciting that someone had actually payed attention to it.

"Oh, um yeah. You're looking for a roomate?"

"Yeah, am I ever. I was living with these guys," Micky tossed his thumb in the direction of his fellow band members, "but I'm moving out."

"Is there any reason? They didn't kick you out did they?" Mike said this hesitantly. He didn't want to room with someone whose friends couldn't even stand him.

"Well, they want to relocate the band to New York and I don't want to leave here. They think we'd be more famous there. They're leaving next week and I've already started packing my stuff. I was just waiting."

"If you want, you can take a look at my place and if you like it we can start moving you in." Micky jumped in enthusiasm.

"That's great, man! Just let me pack up my drums and we can go!" Once Micky disappeared back up on the bandstand, Peter joined Mike.

"Well, how'd it go?" Peter asked.

"I'm taking him by to see the apartment. But I have a feeling that it won't be easy living with," Mike glanced back down at the ad, "Micky Dolenz."

continued