Peter wasn’t sure how it happened. One minute, he was out running errands for the band, and the next, he was wandering around a neighborhood he didn’t recognize, staring at unfamiliar houses with increasing confusion.

When he finally knocked on your door, looking sheepish, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Peter, what are you doing here?”

“Uh… getting lost, apparently,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was supposed to pick up guitar strings, but I must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere… or maybe a few wrong turns.”

You stepped aside, letting him in. “You don’t have a map?”

“I did!” Peter said earnestly. “But then I put it down to pet a dog, and when I looked up, I couldn’t remember where I was.” He grinned, completely unfazed. “Nice dog, though.”

Shaking your head, you grabbed the phone. “Come on, I’ll call Micky before he declares you legally missing.”

Peter just plopped onto your couch, perfectly content. “Hey, at least I found you!”