Chapter 55

It was mid-morning when Richie woke up, he may have spent too much time on the phone with Sarah after the movie had ended but it was good to hear his wife and be updated on what was going on at home.

Feeling motivated for another day, he got out of bed and dressed in last night's clothes. He'd change when he got to the hotel again tonight, for convenience sake, these clothes would do for another day.

In the kitchen he found himself alone but shrugged it off as he found eggs in the fridge and started making himself some breakfast. He wasn't going to wait around for Jon, he was hungry now. He knew the house well enough to find everything he needed and know that Jon wouldn't mind if he helped himself.

He was in the middle of cracking eggs into the frying pan when Jon walked into the kitchen.

"Are you sharing this time?"
"I fucking shared last night." Richie argued but didn't mind making more eggs, they were only here today anyway, no reason to waste food.
"Yeah, after I took the bag from you."
"Still shared." He pointed out. "When are Dave and Tico going to be here?"
Jon shrugged, "Probably around noon or so."
Richie scrambled up the eggs, making sure they were all getting evenly cooked. "We've got some time then."
"Yeah," Jon leaned against the counter on the other side of the stove, "Did you get to talk to Sarah last night?"
"Oh yeah," Richie said, knowing where the conversation was going, "She's not enjoying Daniel right now."
"That bad?"
"Yeah, I guess it's really bothering him. I kind of feel bad he's teething now, just as I left them, you know?"
"Yeah, I get it but he'll be alright in a couple days."
"I know but still." He trailed off, not really finishing his thought as he scooped the eggs onto plates. "So tomorrow we fly out to Mexico? Do we have a travel itinerary?"
"Yeah, didn't you get one? We fly at 5pm, go to the hotel afterwards and then full gear tour mode the day after that."
"Getting right back into it."

After they ate their eggs, Jon loaded the dishwasher for the few dishes that were there, he wasn't going to wash them by hand.

"Do you want to go for a run with me?" He suggested to Richie.
"Down the street?" He asked. "No."
Jon shrugged. "We could just use the treadmill if that makes you more comfortable." He suggested instead.
"I'm a terrible runner, I do prefer a treadmill where no one will see me but it's not like I have work out clothes here."
"You can borrow some. Running's good for you."
"Yeah, which gets negated by the pack of cigarettes you have throughout the day."
"It balances out."
"Sure it does." Of course he didn't believe him, not like he was much better but at least he'd kicked that habit.
"It does." Jon argued. "I've asked a doctor."
"Sure, sure." Richie said sarcasticly.

Not much later, he texted Sarah a selfie of himself in borrowed work out clothes, ready to hit the gym. He didn't mind working out, he just couldn't keep up with Jon's morning routine. An hour run was not something he enjoyed doing every morning. Sure he worked out but not to the same extent, a half hour of some sort of cardio once or twice a week followed by some weights was good enough. That and smart eating, a combination of those two worked just fine. He didn't wait for a response from Sarah as he hoped she was occupied with her sons or studies. Instead, he headed down the hallway to the gym.

"I'm ready." He announced as he walked in, seeing Jon already on a treadmill.
"About time." Jon replied. "I've been waiting."
"At least you started." Richie said, meaning Jon hadn't really waited for him at all. He stepped onto the treadmill next to Jon and turned it on.
"Figured you wouldn't last as long as me anyway."
"Are you calling me fat?"
Jon laughed. "No, I'm saying you don't have the stamina."
"So, you mean I'm fat." Richie set the the treadmill's pace to a walking speed, not wanting to go into a fast run straight away.
"Sure, whatever." Jon said sarcastically. "Be fat."
"Rude." He feighned shock as he increased his walking speed.

Soon enough Richie could feel sweat coating his skin all over his body, the shirt he was wearing was sticking to his back. At least Jon looked worse than he did. He tried to think back of when he used to keep up with Jon's work out routine, reminding himself that was easily 13 years ago and at least he had been in his forties, not his fifties. Why did he have to work out while other people his age were allowed to have potbellies and call it a dad body? He was determined to at least get to the thirthy minutes he knew he could do and he was only a few minutes away from that goal. He most definitely preferred just about any other exercise that was not running. Any sport he could watch or practise in bed was perfect for him.

Next to him, Jon kept his pace, impressing him more and more. His own mind was telling him to stop, it had been enough but watching Jon run with ease made him competitive, not wanting to give up. Although he knew Jon did this every day and he did not, he felt like he could show off as well.

Jon slowed down his pace and incline, then continued in a walk for a few more minutes.
Richie finally did the same and was relieved to just walk. "Thank fuck. Finally." He was out of breath from running double his usual time.
Jon looked over, letting out a short hearty laugh. "I didn't think you would last this long."
"I think I'm dying." His breath still uneven as he tried to catch it. His body ached, his lungs hurts.
"You'll be fine." Jon said, ending his cardio work out, stopping the treadmill entirely.
Richie finally felt relief and did the same, instead he pressed the stop button, making the treadmill stop immediately as he was still in the process of a step, he tripped over his own exhausted feet.
"What the fuck?" Jon exclaimed as he heard the crash to his right. Looking over as he spoke his words, he caught a glimpse of Richie catching himself. "Are you okay?" He asked concerned but Richie steadied himself again and moved off the treadmill.
He tried to laugh off his own mess up. "Told you I was dying.' He said, doing a mental check up of his body. All limbs were still attached, his foot hurt.
Jon walked around the treadmills and handed him a bottle of water. "You good?" He asked again.
Richie took the bottle of water and opened it. "Yeah, I'm fine." He took a drink, gladly accepting the refreshment his body needed.
"Are you sure?" Jon wanted to confirm again. "What did you even do?"
Richie shrugged. "I don't know. I turned it off, then died." He explained quickly. "How the fuck do you even do this every day?"
"By doing it every day." Jon pointed out. "Want to do some weight or stop before you actually die or something worse."

He knew weights was his moment to shine and show off. His competitive mindset immediately overruled his hurt foot. Weights were much easier than running for an hour so they headed over to the weight rack.

As they left the gym, they heard the doorbell. Richie groaned at the sound of it. "You need a better door bell sound jingle thing."
Jon laughed. "It's epic and no one even rings the doorbell."
"Yeah, because no one wants to listen and wait 5 minutes for your ego." He started heading down the hall for exactly that reason.
"It has your input with it. Not just me." Jon pointed out as he followed suit.

Once they opened the front door, the song finally stopped, to both of their relief and found David on the other side, his hands full, a drink tray in one, a muffin box in the other. "You guys look disgusting, I'm not going into a small studio all afternoon with you two being nasty."