As of Yet Unnamed
an excerpt

...So it was now that he found himself being led by Scott to see what he could do to help Jon, even though he knew they couldn’t do much of anything. Behind him, he heard the unmistakable sounds of a heavy rock concert starting. Scott opened the door ahead of them, and Chip was instantly assaulted with lots of sound.

Jon was whimpering over in the corner somewhere. Chip could picture him gripping his knee, his knuckles white. Kyle was doing everything he knew to do, ice packs and all. Garrett knew that at this point, he couldn’t really do anything, so he stood to one side, rubbing Jon’s back to soothe him somewhat.

Chip shook his head then, almost ashamed of himself. He couldn’t see Jon to help him, and if he tried to help it would probably only make things worse.
“Hey, it’s cool, okay? We’ll get him back up soon.”

To Jon, Scott asked, “Dude, what did you do, anyway?”

Jon shook as he replied. “I don’t know… I think I stepped wrong when we were coming out, but I’m not sure.”

Kyle looked upset, but continued on with his ministrations.

As the months flew by, the band began to realize that more people were coming to shows that seemed to know the lyrics to their songs. Chip was surprised at how well this was working out.

Ted managed to get to a few of their concerts, and on one of the last ones for the tour, he came in grinning like the Cheshire Cat after the show.
“You won’t believe this,” he said, waving a paper in the air, “but these stats say that ticket sales have gone through the roof since you guys played in that first month. You’re becoming totally popular!” He read something quickly. “Come Back has become a number twenty-five chart-topper!”

Scott’s eyes had gotten very big as Ted spoke. Chip looked very surprised.

“Are you serious!” Scott practically yelled. “This is awesome!”

“Yes, I agree. The bigwigs up at the studio have said that if you go on the next Hard Plot tour, the tour after that one will be your own headliner.”

“That’s too cool!” Chip said, a huge grin spread across his face.

“So. Your last show on this tour is next Saturday. Hard Plot has said that they’re going to bring out Black Roses and you guys for one last big finale. You up for that?”

“Absolutely!”

“Great. We’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

So the remaining week flew by, the time on the bus spent goofing off mostly, although they did spend some time practicing. One night, they stopped at a rather nice hotel for the night, and the entire group (Hard Plot, Bytes, and Black Roses) all sat around in a conference room and played video games.
Chip spoke with Es at length while listening to the game’s music. She was very open about things, while he got rather uncomfortable talking to her. She seemed to recognize this fact, however, and eased up on him quickly.

That night, Chip slept very well. The cold air outside that tended to make his bed colder (since he was right next to the window) didn’t bother him, as the driver had relented and turned on the heater for them. The heater blew straight at Chip’s back, which calmed him and lulled him into a deep sleep very quickly.

The very next day, the bus continued on its path. Kyle was sitting in a corner, his bass guitar plugged into his portable amp. He strummed a few chords, listening as Chip hit the same chords on his acoustic guitar. Kyle frowned, twisting one of the tuning knobs and playing the chord again.

Chip shook his head, his pick passing each string. Kyle grinned and nodded. “Perfect.”

Jon collapsed on the couch nearby, grabbing his battery-powered keyboard. “Mind if I join ya?”

“Go right ahead,” Chip replied.

Jon played a simple exercise before poising his fingers over the keys. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Chip started off slow, Kyle and Jon immediately recognizing the song and jumping in.

Kyle watched Chip play his acoustic. Chip’s eyes were closed, his fingers dancing across the frets. A small smile graced his features.

Ever since the accident, Chip had been quiet and unlike himself. It was brief moments like this when he returned to the Chip before the accident.

“Okay, so here’s the new one that I thought up,” Chip said, showing Kyle what he needed to play. “It’s a simple chord, Jon, just figure out the right note, okay?”

Kyle nodded as they played the simple melody. “I like it,” he said quietly. “It’s different from our normal songs. It’s like, power ballad without the power.”

“That’s called a ‘ballad’, dude,” Garrett interjected from his spot by the TV.

“Whatever!”

As the bus pulled to a stop just an hour later, Jon had gone back to the bedroom to rest up for the show. It was Scott that found him gripping his knee like it would just magically heal up.

“Jon, you need a doctor for that.”

“No, no, it’ll be all right in a minute.”

Indeed, just a moment later, he straightened out, standing slowly, putting the very least weight he could possibly manage on his bad leg. Scott grabbed him around the shoulders, supporting his weight as Jon took a small, tentative step.

“No,” Scott said, very firmly. “You will sit during the show, understood?”

Jon made a face, but seeing as his bad knee kept wanting to buckle when he put weight on it, agreed.

“Can I at least grab my brace from the medicine box?” he asked as Scott forced him to sit down.

“Done,” Scott replied, rushing into the bathroom and finding the rather large brace. He handed it to Jon, who very quickly strapped it on and bent his knee once or twice.

“I’m all right, he reassured Scott, who still looked dubious about the situation. “It’s a little sore, is all.”

“That doesn’t explain why you were crying and holding it like it was about to fall off.” Scott was starting to get agitated. “Jon, you can’t perform tonight if your knee isn’t doing right.”

“I’ll just do like you said, okay? I’ll just sit during the performance. We can always say that I twisted my knee and have to rest it. That’s mostly the truth anyway.”

Scott disagreed, but in the end, gave in to Jon’s requests.