Peter snorts. "What doesn't Gabe talk about with me."

That's not an answer, though, and he doesn't particularly want to lay here in silence any more than Johnny does. He sucks in a breath and squints at the ceiling. Feelings, he doesn't want to say. Peter's fucked up love life. Peter's fucked up life in general, though unless Gabe's been peeking where he shouldn't there's thankfully a lot he still doesn't know. "He wants me to get back on the stage," he grunts after a moment, deciding on that as something fairly safe to share. "Says he'll put up the money."