Once his smoke break was over, Steven stubbed out his cigarette, grinding it beneath the heel of his shoe until it was nothing but ashes. He watched the last wisps of smoke fade into the warm evening air before turning back towards the studio. His mind was racing, a mix of emotions swirling inside him - determination, fear, and a sense of emptiness that he hadn't been able to shake ever since Joe left the band.

As he walked down the dimly lit hallway, the familiar sounds of muffled conversation and the faint hum of instruments being tuned could be heard, getting louder. as he approached the rehearsal room. He stopped outside the door, his hand lingering over the handle as he wrestled with confliction. He didn't want to have the talk with the band, knowing that it would only add more fuel to the fire, but on the other hand, it might be the final push they needed.

Taking a deep breath, Steven pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The studio was full of activity, the band gathered around, finishing up their break. Joey was adjusting his drum kit, while Tom and Brad were engaging in light conversation as they tuned their instruments. Jimmy, as usual, was stood in the corner, playing a soft melody on his guitar, his face serene.

The atmosphere was light, but as soon as Steven entered, all eyes turned towards him. Conversation died down, replaced by an uneasy silence as they saw Steven's posture and the serious expression on his face. They all looked at each other in concern.

"Hey, guys," Steven called out, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. He took a moment to gather himself, "We need to talk. Now."

The band exchanged puzzled glances, their amusement fading as they noticed the intensity in Steven's eyes. One by one, they put down their instruments and gathered around him in a loose circle. The room, which had been buzzing with energy and a sense of carelessness was now heavy premonition.

Tom furrowed his brow, noticing Steven's bothered expression. "What's up, Steven? You look troubled. Is everything alright?"

Steven ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world. "No," he admitted.

The band members leaned in, their faces etched with concern. "Why? What's going on? If it's about the song-" Joey began, but Steven quickly cut him off with a shake of his head.

"No, it's not about the song. It's about the band... about where we're headed. And there's one thing I keep coming back to. One person, really." He paused, his eyes darting from one bandmate to the next, gauging their reactions. "I want Joe back in the band."

The room fell into a stunned silence. The shock was palpable, and the air crackled with the sudden shift in emotion - anger, disbelief, and a deep, unspoken longing. Steven shifted nervously, their reactions mirroring his own anguish that had been quietly stewing inside him for years.

Joey's jaw tightened as he stared at Steven, as though trying to decipher whether this was some sort of joke. "You're kidding, right? You're not seriously thinking about bringing Joe back, are you? Do you remember what happened before?" He folded his arms tightly, the idea of bringing back their old bandmate far from appealing to him.

Steven's shoulders slumped slightly, the memories of past conflicts flooding back. The late-night arguments, the drug-fueled brawls, the chaotic disintegration of their friendship.

"I remember," he replied, his voice laced with regret.

Brad crossed his arms, his face hardening. "Yeah, I'm with Joey on this. The fights, the drinking, all the drugs... It tore us apart last time, Steven. We barely survived."

Joey nodded in agreement. "Besides, what makes you think this time would be any different? Are you trying to kill the band? Getting Joe to come back isn't exactly the smartest idea."

Steven's gaze dropped to the floor, the truth in their words stinging. "I know, but things are different now," he insisted, his voice tinged with desperation. "We're clean... clean-er, and we're on top of the world. We're selling out more venues, our sales are through the roof, and we're kicking ass. But it still doesn't feel the same - not without Joe."

Tom's expression softened slightly, but his eyes were still wary. "It's not just about wanting Joe back, Steven. Have you even considered if he wants to come back? He's doing his own thing now with The Joe Perry Project. He's moved on. And that's something we have to do too."

"And we have Jimmy now," said Brad, glancing at the guitarist who had been watching the exchange with a calm, understanding gaze. "We can't just kick him out because you're missing your best friend. Jimmy's been a major part of keeping Aerosmith going. We'd be nowhere without him."

Steven nodded, acknowledging the truth in their words, but his resolve remained firm. "I know that, man. And I'm grateful for everything Jimmy's done. But Joe... Joe is a co-founder. There's no one like him. Aerosmith is his home. It's where he belongs."

Jimmy, who had remained silent the entire time, finally spoke up. His voice was steady when he spoke, "Look, I'm here because you guys needed me, but I know I'm not Joe. If bringing him back is what's best for the band, I'm willing to step aside."

The room fell into another stunned silence. Joey took a step forward, placing a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "You've been with us for years - you're family."

Jimmy nodded, a small, bittersweet smile on his lips. "I'm sure. I knew my time with Aerosmith was temporary until you brought Joe back. It's time for me to find my own path."

The band exchanged glances, the weight of Jimmy's words sinking in. They were going to miss him. He'd brought a fresh perspective to their music, and now, he was choosing to leave. It was like a punch to the gut.

Steven forced a smile, though sadness tugged at the edges of it. "It's been great having you in the band, Jimmy. You're welcome to jam with us anytime." His words came out slightly choked, a sense of gloominess coming over him as it hit him that they were losing yet another band member.

Tom, Joey, and Brad nodded, each offering words of gratitude and support.

Steven reached out, pulling Jimmy into a hug. "It's not about replacing you," Steven murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "But it's always been the five of us since the beginning. I wish you all the luck in whatever you do next. Remember, Aerosmith will always be a home for you to come back to."

Jimmy's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he returned the hug. "I will. Good luck to you, too," he whispered before stepping back to gather his things.

His guitar case snapping shut was a sore reminder that he really was leaving. The guy who had got them back on track was quitting.

"Take care, guys." With a final wave, he walked out of the studio, leaving the band a quartet once again.

The door clicked shut behind Jimmy, and the room was plunged back into silence.

Joey let out a long sigh. "Well done, jackass. There went our lead guitarist. Guess the jam session's cut short."

Steven turned to Joey, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Stop whining, Joey. Joe's a part of our family, just as much as any of us."

Tom sat down on the drum risers beside Brad and leaned back slightly, a soda in his hand. "So, what's your genius plan for getting Joe back? Are we supposed to turn up at his doorstep with a six-pack and beg him to come back?"

The remark earned a chuckle from the group, lightening the mood just a bit.

Steven smirked, though his mind was already turning over possible plans. "We could, but we might need to be a bit more tactful than that."

Brad raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Steven began pacing, wringing his hands as he thought. "I think we need to hold a meeting with him. Get him to sit down with us, and smooth things over." He turned around to face the band, trying to gauge their reaction to his idea.

"'We' as in you," Joey quipped, crossing his arms. "You've been the one bitching and whining about Joe for months now."

"I haven't been bitching and whining," Steven shot back, getting defensive, though his cheeks were turning red. He had stated many, many times how much he wanted a reunion. "I've just been expressing what's best for the band."

Joey rolled his eyes. "Whatever, man."

Tom's tone turned more serious. "So, a meeting. You really think that'll work?"

Steven stopped pacing, meeting Tom's gaze. "I know it's a long shot, but we'll never know unless we try."

The band fell into a brief silence, each of them weighing the risks and rewards. On one hand, it would be good to rekindle things with Joe and have him play with them like old times, but on the other hand bringing him back risked them being torn apart again. But it was a risk Steven was willing to take, even if it meant playing together one last time.

Finally, Tom groaned, rubbing his temples. "Alright, I'm in. But this better be worth our time."

A grin spread across Steven's face. "I knew you guys would come around. Meeting adjourned." He waved his hand dismissively and walked off to find a phone.

His heart pounded as he picked up the receiver and dialled Joe's number. The phone rang twice before connecting, and just as Steven was about to hang up, he heard a familiar voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

Steven swallowed hard. "Joe. It's me, Steven. We need to talk."