The tour bus rumbled lazily through the quiet neighborhood streets of Columbus, just a few blocks from where last night\u2019s surprise concert had rocked the rec center. The morning sun painted the modest homes in warm gold, each one with neatly trimmed yards, old trees, and the occasional porch swing still swaying from the early breeze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jonah stood near the front of the bus, shifting from foot to foot, clearly trying to figure out how to ask something without sounding awkward. You were at your usual spot by the front, going over routing with Diesel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHey, Thane?\u201d Jonah finally asked, hesitating. \u201cDo you think we could\u2026 maybe swing by my folks\u2019 place before we head out? It\u2019s literally just a few streets over. My mom texted earlier and said she made those cookies I used to obsess over. She wants to meet you guys.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He didn\u2019t even get a full breath in before Gabriel\u2019s voice tore through the bus.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYES. YES. COOKIES. YES.<\/strong>“<\/p>\n\n\n\n He appeared in the stairwell like he\u2019d teleported, black fur fluffed out from too much caffeine, holding two mugs of espresso like they were holy relics. \u201cThane says yes. Thane loves cookies. We all love cookies. THIS IS HAPPENING.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Thane gave Jonah a long, knowing look. \u201cApparently it is.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Diesel chuckled from the driver\u2019s seat, already flipping the turn signal. \u201cAlright, drummer boy. What\u2019s the address?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Jonah scribbled it on the back of a laminated backstage pass and handed it up. \u201cIt\u2019s on Verner Street. Beige house, green trim, tire swing in the yard.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Diesel grinned. \u201cGot it. Somebody prep the cookie tray. I’m calling dibs.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The bus crept along narrow streets, the massive vehicle drawing a few curious glances from residents sipping morning coffee on porches. Jonah\u2019s heart raced as they turned onto Verner. The house was exactly how he remembered it\u2014modest, two-story, old siding, flower pots on the front steps, and the faded tire swing hanging from the maple tree where he used to practice his fills with sticks and a busted trash can lid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n His mother was already standing on the porch, hands on her hips, apron still dusted with flour, and a wide smile spreading across her face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The second Jonah stepped off the bus, she was down the stairs in a flash, arms outstretched.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJonah!<\/em> Look at you!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n They hugged tight, Jonah practically folding in on himself like he was ten years old again. \u201cHi, Mom\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou\u2019re too skinny,\u201d she said immediately, fussing with his hoodie. \u201cYou need to eat more. You better bring all those nice people in this house. I baked three batches<\/em>!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gabriel had already disembarked, bouncing like a puppy. \u201cHELLO, I AM THE COOKIE ENTHUSIAST. I WILL BE RESPECTFUL, BUT ALSO I AM HERE FOR SUGAR AND LOVE.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Jonah\u2019s mom blinked at him for two seconds, then beamed. \u201cYou must be Gabriel.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI am,<\/em> ma\u2019am, and I love your son like my own family.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n She clasped both his clawed hands. \u201cYou come in. You sit down. You\u2019re getting the first plate.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Thane followed them down the steps, smiling warmly. \u201cMrs. Hanson, I\u2019m Thane. I\u2019m the band\u2019s tech and sound engineer.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOhhhh you\u2019re<\/em> the one who knows how to fix things,\u201d she said with a wink. \u201cYou\u2019re getting extra cookies.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Behind him, Mark stepped down with his usual quiet presence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She gave him a once-over and smiled gently. \u201cYou must be the one with the calm eyes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mark blinked. \u201c…Uh. Yes, ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n She waved them all into the cozy living room, where the scent of cinnamon, peanut butter, and chocolate filled the air like some kind of magical welcome spell. Plates of fresh, soft cookies were already stacked on the table, and mugs of hot coffee sat waiting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Jonah sat on the couch beside his dad\u2014who said little, but pulled him into a shoulder hug that said everything. They watched as the pack filled their house with noise and laughter. Gabriel dramatically praised every bite like a food critic. Cassie tried (and failed) to steal a cookie without getting caught. Diesel posted up in the kitchen doorway with a warm mug and said, \u201cThese cookies alone are worth the mileage.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n And Jonah\u2026 just sat there, soaking it all in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n His world. His people. His home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It wasn\u2019t just about being famous. It wasn\u2019t about the article or the music.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It was this.<\/p>\n\n\n\n His mom, his dad, his friends, and his pack\u2014were all in one place, laughing and eating and just being.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n And for Jonah Hanson, the drummer from the block who never gave up\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n It was perfect.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The tour bus rumbled lazily through the quiet neighborhood streets of Columbus, just a few blocks from where last night\u2019s surprise concert had rocked the rec center. The morning sun painted the modest homes in warm gold, each one with neatly trimmed yards, old trees, and the occasional porch swing still swaying from the early […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-598","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-tour-life"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/598","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=598"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/598\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3146,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/598\/revisions\/3146"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=598"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=598"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=598"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}