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The air in the small patch of garden at David’s farm was thick with the scent of sizzling meat and citronella candles. It was a muggy August Sunday, and the band had decided to throw together an impromptu barbecue, partly to ease the studio tensions and partly to break up the monotony of recording. Everything seemed mellow: Nick was slicing bread while having a friendly chat with Ginger and Libby, who were busy making potato salad and fruit punch. Rick was lounging around, taking it easy since his job was to clean up the grills later. He was sharing a joint with Judith, talking about cats. Juliette was playing with the excited pups darting around the lawn, trying to keep them from nicking any stray bites. Meanwhile, David and Roger were quietly bickering at the barbecue. David had claimed the title of grill master just seconds before Roger could, much to Roger’s irritation. Roger had inserted himself as an unwanted sous-chef, tossing out unsolicited advice and smugly nitpicking the process. David, sweeping his long hair back, pretended to ignore him as best as he could. Juliette shooed the German shepherd away from the grill, grinning as she said:“You two better hurry up, or these little mutts are gonna have their own barbecue! Leave ‘em alone, and they’ll nick whatever they can get their paws on.”"Don't fret, love. As if our four-legged friends could whip up a gourmet meal with what they find. For now, let’s just focus on what we’ve got here. Maybe you could keep our master chef in check too!"David replied, as he brushed a rosemary sprig soaked in oil over the meat. A cloud of white smoke billowed up, enveloping Roger just as he was about to retort, making him cough uncontrollably. David smirked, pleased to have silenced his bandmate, if only for a moment. Despite a few mishaps, like the corn on the cob getting a bit too charred, the barbecue had been a success. Now, everyone was sitting back in their rattan chairs, full and satisfied, sipping the last of the beers or the strawberry liqueur that Ginger had made. Rick was lazily scraping the grills, saving the hottest one for last. His cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes were half-closed, partly from sleepiness and partly to shield them from the smoke. The last grill, still scorching hot, was waiting to be cleaned when Nick, who had been entertaining Juliette, Libby, and Ginger with some anecdotes, called out to him with a cheeky grin."Hey, remember that time you left the keys in the van? Juliette can't believe you managed to lock us all out for nearly two hours!"Libby giggled, covering her mouth with her hand, and Rick, blushing slightly, turned toward them, eager to leave his thankless task behind."Oh, how could I forget… It was a great opportunity to practice a bit of Zen meditation while we waited for someone to come and save us."Nick kept laughing as Rick joined the conversation, leaving the hot grill resting on the chair, convinced no one would touch it. The lads were chatting and enjoying the post-lunch calm; the dogs were busy gnawing on bones, and the cats, finally creeping out from their hiding spots, joined the feast. David and Roger were still arguing about the best way to grill vegetables, with Roger wandering around the garden, waving a half-burnt corn cob. Suddenly, Ginger heard a soft bleating coming from the barn and jumped up excitedly:"I haven’t shown you the new lambs yet!"In a swirl of skirts and excited giggles, the girls headed to the barn to check out the newborns. Meanwhile, Roger was rambling:“...and that’s why if you use live coals, you don’t burn the tougher veg, like these.”He finished with a particularly pompous tone, sitting down right on the grill that had been left unattended. For a few moments, he stared thoughtfully at the half-charred corn cob, reflecting on how the smell of burning was still so strong. Then his eyes widened as he felt a sharp pain spreading across his bum. Raising his eyebrows in a surprised, amused expression, with his eyes twinkling with mirth, David remarked:"Mate, you've got smoke coming out of your arse."With a howl of pain, Roger leapt up, clutching at his offended rear, and had to thank his laziness for wearing his usual thick, black jeans that day. Nick couldn’t help but chuckle:“Ah, looks like we forgot the main course: bum flambé!”The dogs jumped up, barking excitedly, and the cats scattered in fright as Roger, hopping around in pain, glared around and yelled:“Riiiiick! I swear on God, I’m gonna kill you!”Feeling guilty, the keyboardist had conveniently slipped off towards the barn. David and Nick had their hands full calming the animals, including a furious, aching Roger. Finally, when the ruckus had died down, David grabbed Roger by the arm and gently led him inside.“Come on, Prima Donna, let’s see what we can do.”With uncharacteristic meekness, Roger followed his friend inside. Walking was painful, and beads of cold sweat dotted his forehead. David led him to the spare bedroom, determined not to have the image of Waters lying face down on his marital bed etched in his memory.“You know the drill: drop the trousers and the rest.”“You’re having a right laugh, aren’t you?” Roger grumbled, lying face down on the bed, his face redder than his bum. It would’ve been hard to tell the difference, David thought amusedly, but he replied:“Oh, sure: spending the afternoon handling your arse is exactly my idea of fun! Come on, let’s see it.”Roger’s backside had been somewhat spared by the thick denim, but even so, there was a red patch with tiny blisters on the surface. David had grabbed some zinc ointment from the bathroom cabinet—Ginger often used it because her lovely, delicate skin was prone to sunburn. It would’ve been much nicer to be rubbing it on her beautiful bum than on the grumpy beanpole stretched out on the bed. The said beanpole was clenching his teeth, grinding them together to cope with the pain.“Rick’s gonna pay for this,” Roger muttered bitterly, trying not to dwell on the embarrassing situation he found himself in. Without saying a word, David squeezed a generous amount of the thick, white cream onto each reddened cheek. Roger groaned at the immediate relief of the cool cream against his hot, sweaty skin. David didn’t intend to spend more time than necessary tending to Roger’s lower half, but he applied the cream carefully, spreading it gently over the burned skin. Even though he couldn’t see it, Roger was sure David was pursing his lips in that typical expression of concentration. Their breaths echoed together in the silence of the room. Then David straightened up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear.“Better?”Roger opened his eyes, which sparkled green in the dim light, and curled his lip into a sheepish smile, too embarrassed to speak. He nodded briefly. David returned the smile and squeezed his bony shoulder.“Wait here, I’ll go get Judith. She can give you a bit of TLC.”Roger nodded again and murmured a hoarse thank you. David smiled, knowing how much it cost Roger to admit that, and ruffled his hair in a rough caress. Then, without another word, he turned and went to fetch Judith.