“I can't believe when you got me drunk, you got me arrested,” groaned Keely, plopping down on the hard bench. “I mean, it could have been at least a fun drunk time.”

“The guy deserved it,” muttered Seth, sitting beside her so their sides were touching.

Giving a snort that sounded rather oddly high for her, Keely slumped back, kicking off her sneakers as she looked across to the cell beside them where the man was drooling, passed out on the the bench. It was only with great focus that she managed to keep her mind steady on the conversation, resisting the urge to start giggling for no reason.

“For what?!” she exclaimed.

He shrugged, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back against the brick wall, mumbling, “He hurt you.”

“I can handle myself,” Keely pointed out.

But before the conversation could go farther, John pushed a rubber ice cream bucket towards her.

“Don't puke in holding.”

For a moment she just blinked at him in confusion, but when Seth startled laughing beside her and leaned his head into his hands a smile crossed her face.

Figuring it was for the best, she really didn't want to sit in a jail cell if there was puke in it as well, she shoved herself up from the bench. But she couldn't help the loud giggle that escaped her lips when she found her legs uncooperative with walking in a straight line to the bucket.

An hour, probably longer, later found them still sitting on the bench, but at least their intoxicated minds so far hadn't allowed for them to become bored. They still hadn't gotten their one phone call yet, because they needed to be booked first, whatever that meant. It might as well have been gibberish to her.

Keely was sitting on the metal bench, her legs cross legged in front of her, facing Seth with her – thankfully empty – bucket huddled between her legs. Seth was also facing her, although he had opted to straddled the bench instead where he sat close to her.

“Okay, okay,” she said, holding her hands flat in front of her as if on a table.

Arching an eyebrow at her Seth followed her movement, although turning his palms upwards to face her. But he surprised her by closing in the distance between their hands with the lightest of touch, causing Keely to rip her hands away from him, but hastily reaching out to snatch at his wrists before she could topple off the bench with the movement. She'd hit that concrete floor more than she cared to admit.

“Hey!” she complained, letting go of his wrists when she steadied herself and shoved him lightly in the chest, pulling her hand away before it could linger on the warmth radiating through his sweater. “That's not fair,” she continued, holding her hands out again, “Again.”

Still smirking slightly, Seth copied her movement, placing his hands beneath hers, palm upwards again.

“Okay... go!” she yelped, snatching her hands back towards her, but once again she wasn't fast enough as his hands swung around to smack hers lightly.

It was either she was terrible at that game or her reaction times had slowed.

“Again,” Keely ordered determinedly, holding her hands out again.

“Hey, Seth, do you want your phone call?” called an unfamiliar voice.

“Hold that thought,” he told her, shoving up off the bench.

Puffing out her cheeks, Keely swung around on her hard metal perch so she could lean her back against the wall more comfortably, watching Seth as he moved forward to the bars to get the phone handed to him. Thoughtfully she let her eyes drift down from the perfect width of his shoulders and downwards, but after a moment she shook herself from her gaze. Even the drunk version of herself shouldn't be doing that.

But that didn't mean that the entirety of his lean body was just as attractive as the front, the boy really did drip sex appeal. Not that she was thinking about it.

As he turned to the side, Keely let herself watch him absentmindedly while he leaned against the bars of the jail cell, a small crease appearing between the dark brows as he dialed a number. Letting the air escape from her lips, she once again puffed out her cheeks.

Finally getting bored with the situation, probably because there was no more Seth to keep her entertained, she flipped over the bucket, using it as a drum as she beat her hands across it carelessly. But the banging that had a lack of rhythm soon turned into a beat as she sang lightly to Led Zeppelin's Whole Lotta Love.

Still she managed to keep half an ear on Seth's conversation.

“Yeah, you guessed it. Right here. Well, I don't know, it just sort of happened...” he trailed off, running a hand through his hair before continuing on. “Is anything ever my fault? I know. No, don't you dare, get Colton to go pick it up. No, I don't want you anywhere near my car! Yeah, you're my best mate but that doesn't mean I'll ever let you near it again. I'm not being a dick, I'm being realistic, you totaled my last car. Of course that's fair, shit, you were driving it! Just come, okay?”

As he hung up, Keely managed to hear him tell the cop that she didn't need a phone call before coming to sit beside her.

Stopping her drumming, Keely turned on the bench again so she could face him although he continued to face forwards. Her light head protested at the sudden movement, but at least the bucket wasn't needed. “Marco's coming to pick us up?” she asked, looking the side of his handsome face.

Yes, she could admit he was better looking than most people, better looking than anyone she'd ever met before. And with the alcohol still coursing through her bloodstream very potently, she probably would have admitted it out loud, especially if he sent her a look through his deep hazel eyes with the hints of gold.

“Yeah, we'll see how long it takes him to come when you're hear,” Seth returned tipping his head to the side so their eyes met fully, “He usually lets me stew a while.”

Feeling the pall of sleepiness blanket her mind, Keely gave a loud – and very wide – yawn, barely able to cover her mouth in time. Still she managed to keep her abruptly weary eyelids open.

Thoughtlessly she shoved the bucket away from her grasp, it falling to the concrete floor with a loud clang to the ground. But she ignored it with ease, shoving herself forward so her crossed legs brushed him as she raised a hand to his cheek, brushing her fingers lightly over his cheekbone and up towards his eye, much too focused to notice his reaction.

“You're starting to bruise,” she whispered, tracing her fingers over the darkening skin.

All she received in a response was, “Hm?”

A smile twitching on her mouth, Keely brushed her hand up from his cheek into his hair, finding the cropped hair just as soft as she'd imagined. Focusing on his eyes, she told him conversationally, “Tyler said you're a great musician because you've had a crappy life.”

His eyes crinkled with humor, making the gold shine, but she could still see that familiar sadness. “So you think I'm a great musician now?”

“Oh, I think you're an incredible one,” she answered honestly, not feeling the least bit embarrassed for her words in her state in the protective bubble of intoxication about her. “But you know what? I'd like the pain to go away now, you'd still be the same musician you are now, but you'd be happier. And maybe then I wouldn't have to worry about you.”

No longer able to keep the tiredness at bay, Keely gave another huge yawn as she closed her eyes, dropping her hand away from him in order to drop in his lap. Yes, definitely time to sleep.

Continuing on her mindless trek, Keely swung about, bringing her legs up onto the bench and stretched out, laying the back of her head on his lap.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm tired,” she mumbled. The last thing she felt was the softest touch brushing her bangs away from her face before she drifted away.

Her guitar case in one hand and a coffee in the other, Keely strolled down the seat, thankful for the warmth in her hand.

She couldn't help but notice the looks that she was getting as she walked down the street. Although, rarely did people actually peak to her, as they probably weren't too sure if it was even her for sure, but it'd take a blind fool to not see the amount of people who were recognizing her had multiplied within a few days.

Taking a sip of her coffee as she walked down the road at a steady pace, she kept her eyes straight forward. It was a bit awkward to be honest, hadn't people been taught as children it was rude to stare? Especially when the point of the staring was beginning to feel as if she was schizophrenic from thinking like that.

Unable to help herself, Keely turned her gaze sharply so she could arch an eyebrow in a girl's direction. The girl instantly blushed and began walking faster.

But it would have been better if she'd just kept her eyes forward.

Instantly pausing at the sight of her own face, she felt the scowl stretch across her mouth. On more than one tabloid at the magazine stand was both she and Seth looking back at her, their mug shots side by side. Apparently someone at the police station thought it would be a good idea to sell the photos to the papers, and since the Sunday afternoon when she'd rejoined the world of the living, the pictures had been plaguing her.

In her picture her green eyes were wide, looking enormous as they swallowed the attention, her mouth hanging slightly open, her ginger hair was scattered messily around her face while she held the little black sign. Seth on the other hand didn't look as disheveled, his hair rumpled and a slight smirk playing across his mouth while he held up the sign, the white figures on his sign differing from hers by only a number.

Narrowing her eyes at the pictures, Keely stalked away. It had been almost a week since the incident, now being a Thursday, but it was following her around like locus. She'd managed to block out all things after she'd been thrown in the police car, and it would have been nice for every moment of her day not pushing her to remember.

She was quite happy not knowing!

Even when she got to UAE she could not escape the photos, finding them taped to the door of studio C, and could see Brett along with Marco and Colton snickering from the end of the hall. “Ha ha,” she glared at them, shoving through the door.

Slouching back in his chair, Seth had an acoustic guitar in his lap, his eyes snapping up to hers when she slammed the door shut behind her. Her eyes caught a familiar bar, but he quickly placed a hand over the strings, silencing the sound effectively.

With barely a pause, she dumped her guitar on the chair and slammed her coffee onto the table, proclaiming, “People suck?”

“What are you on about?” he asked, straightening slightly in his seat, one hand still on the guitar's neck.

“Nothing,” Keely side, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she leaned back against the wall comfortably. “Hand better, now?”

Playing a chord that she instantly recognized as a B7 by both the sound and his finger position, Seth leaned back into his seat, looking up at her. “There's nothing wrong with my hand, rebel, never was. I've never had an issue with it before.”

Very much appreciating the fact that the outside world seemed far away when she was locked in the studio, Keely felt her body relax as she closed her eyes. “Was that a new song?”

“No, just some Buddy Holly.”

The smirk lighting on her mouth, she asked, “Thinking of adopting the glasses?”

“I can handle my life without them,” replied Seth. As he spoke, Keely heard a few scuffles, but ignored them easily.

She murmured, “Your loss.”

Remembering she wasn't in the studio to practically sleep propped against the wall, Keely opened her eyes to find Seth standing now, but placing his guitar on the table, far away from her coffee. “I was thinking about the guitar for Only Lose, I want to make it rougher, you know what I mean? Right now it's too soft as if its not there, it just doesn't fit the song.”

He nodded, side stepping the table as he made his way towards her. “Thinking about using some Hendrix techniques for it? We can use over driven amps, until we get you some feedback.” As he spoke, he moved close, their bodies almost brushing as he reached over her to the headphones on the wall behind her.

Despite the closeness, Keely just dropped her arms to the side, moving her shoulders comfortably against the wall as she tipped her head back to look at him, ignoring the strange jump in her pulse. “Yeah, exactly,” she said, brushing the bangs from her eyes as she smiled up at him.

Seth dropped the large headphones on the table behind him without turning around, but didn't move away, giving Keely the sudden feeling that she'd been backed into a corner with her against the wall and his solid body just inches away. “You think you can handle the guitar track or should I do it?” he asked, putting his hands on either side of her head.

Definitely backed into a corner, she thought as her body tensed against the wall and she could feel that strange jump in her pulse again, but this time it happened more often. “I can handle it myself.” Why did that come out sounding breathless?

“Really?” he returned, his mouth turning up in a crooked grin.

Losing her thought pattern she just looked back up at him, biting down on her lip absentmindedly as her chin tipped up to him. Was it strange that she wanted to-

The door beside them swung open and Keely jumped violently, rapping her head against the wall as her thoughts flew away from her mind. As she jumped, Seth took one hasty step away, the hands that had been pressed flat against the wall dropping to his side.

Muttering swear words under her breath as she rubbed her head, she looked at him with wide eyes. Keely found she didn't even care who had opened the door, she was more focused on looking across the space at him. She couldn't even see his face, because he was scraping his palms over it, hiding it from her view. How could she have not even been thinking about how close that they had been? And further more, how could she have been that stupid?

“What are you two doing?”

At the sound of the voice her gaze shot to Ms Jones who was looking down at her cell phone, and Keely could only be grateful she couldn't notice the tension in the room. The thick tension was sitting heavily on her skin, and the control room suddenly felt much too small.

“We're just talking about a guitar track,” Keely blabbed, “You know, high gain and treble, high bends, legato and a wah-wah pedal.” Now why did that sound shaky?

“No you aren't,” said Maureen, finally looking up from her phone.

Keely's mouth dropped open, how could she know? “Yes we were.”

Looking a bit confused, Ms Jones sent her a wary look. “Fine, you were. But not anymore. You two have a photo shoot you have to get to.”

Her mouth still didn't close, she was beginning to think her mind wasn't working properly.

“Since when do we have a photo shoot?” asked Seth. Her eyes hurriedly snapped to him only to find his face carefully blank, the front locks of hair sticking up messily.

“Since their cover shot dropped out and I managed to get you in,” answered Maureen carelessly.

Regaining her mind Keely blurted, “But why both of us? He's part of a band and I'm solo.”

“Why the two of you? Because you two have been huge news for a week, and I've been holding off reporters all week for you guys, but we need to use it to our advantage. They want you and all of NSR. And the other reason is you ruined your image before we even had time to decide what you were supposed to be for the press.”

Feeling chastised she dipped her hands into her jeans, looking down at the floor, mumbling, “It wasn't all my fault.”

“What was that?” asked Ms Jones sternly, her eyes steely as she looked down at Keely.

“Nothing...”

“C'mon, rebel,” said Seth, putting a hand at her waist to steer her out of the studio.

But she just jolted at the warm hand on her waist, and tried to hide her movement and her flushing cheeks from Maureen by grabbing her guitar.

Without a word Keely dashed out the door. She'd embarrassed herself enough for a minute.

By the time that she reached the end of the hallway though she was no longer alone. “My car is in the alley way,” said Seth from behind her, “I'll give you a drive.”

Nodding hastily she moved away from him, there was no doubt she was a fool.

“Hey you two hear about the photo shoot?”

Ignoring Colton's voice, she darted towards the door.

But still she heard Seth reply, “Yeah, we're-” but then his words cut off with the door slamming.

It wasn't until she had almost flung herself down the stairs that Keely started pacing up and down the alley, thinking about that moment.

Yes, it had been way too close. What was she thinking? It was Seth. No, the problem was that she hadn't been thinking, and she'd just let it happen and him get closer and closer without her saying anything. Not to mention that her heart was still racing, even though there was a freaking wall between them now.

Getting frustrated, Keely shoved her guitar onto the blue hood of the car. If they hadn't been interrupted, would what she'd been thinking about actually have happened? She could clearly remember her chin tipping up towards him. No, she wasn't that stupid. No matter what was going on, it was still Seth Ryan, the guy that half the time annoyed the hell out of her and could never share anything, not to mention she didn't even know his real last name.

“Hey, you ready?” came Seth's voice from the door, and Keely spun around to look at him.

So he was going to act like nothing had happened? Well, nothing had happened in reality... but that wasn't stopping her from freaking out. Still she could act like nothing had happened too.

“Yeah,” Keely answered hastily, leaning one hand over the hood of his car as she leaned over because she'd shoved the guitar case a bit too far. “Did you find anything about the photo shoot?” she asked, arching an eyebrow casually in his direction.

“Here,” he murmured, snatching the guitar case up easily by the handle that her fingers had been grasping at, but only finding air. “And yes, I did, but we have to go now.”

Walking around the car, she couldn't help but smirk at him over the top of the car, “You just want to get your picture taken, don't you?”

“Get in, rebel,” he said, rolling his eyes.

All in all, the drive wasn't awkward as she would have imagined. No, there was the usual amount of bickering, yet somehow she almost enjoyed arguing with Seth now, it was amusing most of the time, how sick as she? Still, between all the quibbling, laughter and the radio, she managed to get an idea of what was going on.

A worldwide magazine had set up a cover shoot for some pop diva, but she had canceled on them last minute claiming mental distress from the paparazzi, leaving them in the lurch. How you could claim mental distress from the paparazzi when said person was notorious for even letting them go into their house and the pretending to be so upset, Keely didn't know, but it was true. Anyways, Maureen with her infinite skills at things Keely didn't pretend to understand had somehow managed to sneak in and get them the interview and cover shoot.

“One day I'm just going to die of pain with all these insults you keep throwing at me,” Seth proclaimed as he shoved out of his car, but there was a smile in his voice.

Shaking her head, Keely followed suit, grabbing her guitar as he did the same.

“Life goes on,” she told him, sending him a cheeky smile as she walked to the door.

“Thank god you two are here,” a voice shouted the moment they walked in. With wide eyes, Keely stopped in her tracks, Seth bumping lightly into her.

With great difficulty she tore her mind from the fact that his chest felt defined even through her thick smock sweater and his hoodie, instead focusing on the little woman hurrying towards them. Her makeup was smeared, her hair flying away from what must have been a tight bun at one and her face looking more than a little harried.

“Okay, we've got all your outfits for the shoot. We're going to have to start with the photo shoot first, since Phil – the photographer by the way – has to be going in a few hours. We have our reporter on hand to interview you two after. But right now, most importantly we need to get you clothed and camera ready. Where are the other two boys?”

Barely catching the words that were said so quickly it seemed the woman hadn't even taken a breath, Keely just stared at her. She was forever going to feel like some small town girl in New York City, wasn't she?

As the woman turned her gaze beseechingly to Seth, he hastily answered, “They'll be here in a minute. They were following us through the city.”

“Okay, well you two go get ready now!”

At her order, Keely sent a helpless look to Seth, but he just shrugged before the two of them went to their appointed places.

When she reached the little makeshift dressing room only then did she let go of her guitar, propping it carefully against the wall before she looked at her outfit. And when she did that her mouth simply dropped open. She was not a particularly modest person, she'd worn short skirts in her day, but she she had never expected this. Biting on her lip indecisively, Keely sent a look to the door. For some odd reason she did not think that she got a vote in what she wore.

Heaving a great sigh, she dragged her baggy sweater over her head, shoving it into a lump before moving to get ready.

Awkwardly she fit herself into the outfit, almost falling down in her clumsiness as she pulled on the fishnet stockings.

The most difficult part might have been hooking the garters to the shorts that felt more like underwear than actual clothes. The fishnets covered her feet as she slipped them into the black stilettos, she did appreciate the height at the least even if she was doubtful about how well the inches of heel strapped to her feet would go. She pulled on a cropped leather jacket with half sleeves over top of a black shirt with the large white peace symbol that didn't stay glue tight to her body, but at the same managed to stay close.

Looking at herself in the mirror she squirmed, maybe the most confident people in the world wouldn't so much as blink. Keely would call herself a confident person, but the the space of bare skin broken up only by the black garters between the terribly tiny shorts and the tights at the top of her thighs felt rather awkward at least to her.

Pulling at the v neck of her shirt when it dipped lower than expected Keely gave one last fidget with the the leather jacket, before moving towards the door. She quite liked the peace symbol shirt and jacket, in fact she'd wear it on a normal day, but the tights she wouldn't wear walking down the street any old day.

Cautiously she peeked on the door, and was immediately snatched up by the same woman as before.

“Oh here,” she murmured, pushing glasses onto her face and beginning to fix the outfit. She quickly straightened the garters, which made Keely jump at her cold hands, rearranged the top and straightened the jacket before sending her off to hair and makeup.

By the time it was done she could only look at herself, squinting at the mirror which made the makeup artist tap her lightly on the back of the head. To say she didn't look like herself would be a lie, because her face was the same shape, her hair and eyes the same color and her body looked of the same shape she remembered.

But she did look oddly glamorous, more than a little different from the torn jeans, messy hair and baggy concert shirts.

Her face had been worked on by a man named Andre, at least that's what she thought his name was. And although she had been slathered in makeup it didn't feel like a mask, even though her eyelids had been shadowed with dark makeup as well as her eyelashes, her lips painted as well. As for her hair, Keely didn't even know who did it, but it had been worked into casual waves down her shoulder blades.

“Can I go now?” Keely asked, biting her lip as she looked at Andre.

“Don't do that,” he ordered glaring at her lip. Instantly she closed her mouth. “And yes, you can go.”

Giving him a grateful little smile, she hurried away. The habit of biting her lip wasn't about to go away, and she didn't want to be around the man when she did it again.

Getting around to where the photo equipment was without incident, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw the boys. Yes, she could only see the back of their heads, but she knew them easily. They were standing next to each other, Marco on the left, Seth in the middle and finally Colton on the other end.

“Hey,” she said, stepping forward.

In unison they turned around, which in itself could probably be disconcerting, but she was more focused at scowling at them.

How come they practically got to where the same clothes they wore on the streets while she was always in something that felt like a costume? She knew the reason to be honest, she was the girl. It was getting a bit sexist.

Seth looked as if he'd just walked into the studio, how was that fair? His hair rumpled, a white shirt, dark jeans and an open plain leather jacket. Marco in just jeans and a black The Police tee shirt while Colton wore jeans and a black button up shirt with white suspenders. And all three of them managed to look more rock star than she felt, in fact they made themselves almost look like models, although they didn't look starving.

“Why couldn't I have worn the Police shirt?” Keely complained, stepping forward to stand beside Colton as they turned about to look towards the set, which happened to just be a white back drop. “I literally have one sitting at home.”

“Because they're making you all sexy,” leered Marco, poking his head out from Seth's side.

Narrowing her eyes, she folded her arms in front of her chest, saying, “Can you hit him?”

Before Marco could even make a move to defend himself, a chuckling Seth had reached up to smack him in the back of the head. When it looked as if the boy was about to retaliate, Seth just fixed him with a skeptical look, “Dare you to try it, man.”

In fact the boy did try, but Seth quickly had him in a head lock as he laughed, holding the blonde boy easily.

Rolling her eyes, Keely once again looked forward to the set.

“You know he's right,” pointed out Colton from beside her.

She simply just punched him in the side, shaking her head, slightly amused, saying, “Don't make me stab you with my heels. They're dangerous.”

Colton just laughed, holding his side where she'd punched. But before he could respond, they were called up to the cameras, finally making Seth let go of Marco from the choke hold that the latter still couldn't find a way out of. In front of them stood four people, two of them holding out two exact Fender Stratocasters that she assumed were for she and Seth, another person with a black and white bass obviously for Marco, then a person just holding out drumsticks for Colton.

“By the way,” said Seth, whispering in her ear as they lagged behind the other boys. Tipping her head back to look at him, she could be thankful for the heels giving her more height even though she still stood shorter than him. “I like the concert shirts and jeans,” he continued, sending her that crooked smile.

As he stepped out in front to grab one of the guitars, Keely let out a huge breath.

Two hours later, they were finally done with the shoot. Her head was still reeling for all the orders sent in their direction, her feet aching from standing straight in the high heels, although there had been one moment where she'd been relieved of standing on the stilts.

The photographer, who Keely believed name was Phil, had ordered Seth to pick her up for one of the shoots. And while she was still staring at him incredulously, Seth had knocked her knees back so she dropped – a squeal breaking from her mouth – into his arm before he hoisted her up easily, her scream turning into laughter as she realized what had happened. But Phil had immediately told him to put her down, apparently the guitars they were supposed to photographed with didn't work with that position.

At the end of those hours they were ready to be interviewed, by a woman who Keely wasn't sure had even mentioned her name.

“Can you play something?” was the woman's first question.

“Uh... sure,” answered Keely, biting on her lip, “I just have to go get my guitar.”

But immediately a widely smiling Marco bounded up, handing her Seth's guitar with a bow, making her laugh loudly.

Sitting down alone on a simple box while the woman got a chair, Keely crossed her legs, placing her guitar on her lap. After a moment of reposition the guitar was once again comfortable as ever in her hands, and she gave a silent little thanks that Seth had brought the acoustic, the Stratocaster in her guitar case wouldn't serve well for this moment.

“Well, this is my song For You,” she murmured, strumming a chord experimentally. But shook her head instantly, did she really expect Seth's guitar not to be tuned? “I wrote it with my co-writer and producer, Seth Ryan,” she told the woman, glancing up to wear the boys stood a few feet away, watching her patiently.

Beginning the song Keely instantly felt her body begin to relax, strumming the familiar chords easily and simply focusing on them. Yes, having her photo shoot with the boys had been much better than the first ones she'd had in New York on her own that felt like years before, but they had still been being ordered around and a camera was flashing in their faces. Music was something that could get the stress out of her shoulders, as she felt the tension flow out of her finger tips, the strings feeling comfortable under her fingers.

The sound was much different as she was playing; it was all about the song, her guitar and her voice. She did love the radio version with the arrangement she and Seth had put together, but going back to basics with the song was beautiful as well, it reminded her of when they'd originally wrote it, although that had been with just a piano and their voices.

Only when she finished, holding her hand out and shaking the guitar to gain the warbling sound did Keely focus on what was going on, the photographer had come back and was taking more pictures.

“It's for inside the magazine, to go with the article,” the woman explained at her questioning look. “Could you three come and play something? The duet that you're putting on her album?” she asked, waving the boys forward.

Before Keely could even say a word, the boys were sitting on her box beside her. And she found herself squished between Seth and Marco, the former plucking the guitar from her lap easily while the other simply played a few chords on his bass. Colton was sitting on Seth's side, a tambourine in his hands.

“How did they get the instruments?” she whispered, leaning towards Seth as she uncrossed her legs, putting her hands on the edge of the large box while she leaned forwards.

“They stopped at the warehouse,” explained Seth, he too strumming a few experimental chords. Keely didn't know if it was because he thought it might not be tuned as well or just because it was habit, but either way he didn't touch the pegs. “I told them to, I thought this might happen, that's why they were late.”

She had time to nod before Marco began to play the beginning to Under Pressure.

Just as with For You, it was felt nice to simply play instead of being worried about Phil who continued to take photos. The focus was more on their voices again instead of the instruments, and she was liking the sound it gave them.

When they finished, the woman waved the boys away rudely. “I need to just talk with her right now,” she explained.

The questions weren't too difficult to answer. But Keely suspected it was because the music had relaxed her into feeling like herself again, even with the costume and all the makeup that she was wearing. She just answered honestly, although when it got towards questions about the night out with Seth and Tyler, Keely wasn't feeling too open.

After enough questioning, she feeling as if her answers were a bit too plain for a world wide magazines, the boys were once again called back. Keely found herself smirking at the disgruntled looks on their faces as they were ordered about, this time finding herself into between Colton and Marco.

This time the questions were easier, because it seemed every time she couldn't find the exact words to answer something, the boys would help her, sometimes making her laugh loudly even though the reporter didn't seem to appreciate that. She couldn't help but feel a bit jealous that they were a band, none of them would have to do a solo interview if they didn't want to having others to lean on. Herself? She was solo, and while she had Seth as a producer and the boys as friends, it wasn't the same thing.

By the time her part of the interview was done, she'd answered questions all the way from the way she started playing music in the first place to what had happened last Saturday night.

“Now, you,” said the reporter, pointing at her, “Go away. I need to talk to the boys alone.”

Blinking in shock Keely stood up, moving towards the dressing rooms where her clothes were piled.

But as she walked in the change room, she heard her phone ringing, a familiar Ray Charles song playing.

Not believing what she heard, Keely didn't even bother shutting the door behind her, just dropping to her knees and digging through her cluttered bag. Moving through spare sheets of paper notes or words scrawled across them, she finally pulled out her cell phone. And sure enough, her ears weren't deceiving her, the word “Dad” written across the screen.

“Dad?” she asked, her voice breathless and even she could hear the happy note as she pressed the phone against her ear.

“Hey Keely.”

There was a pause.

Well, that was a bit of a let down. Although they weren't face to face so they couldn't do a typical father daughter reunion hug, Keely was hoping for something a bit more sensational after all this time. Or maybe New York was just getting to her head.

“Hi,” she smiled, pushing her hair away from her face. “I haven't spoke to you in forever-”

“I called you a few times in the last hour, why didn't you answer?” he asked, interrupting her.

Slumping down against the wall with her legs in front of her, she answered, “My phone was in my bag. I was just doing a photo shoot with the-”

Once again he interrupted her, speaking gruffly as she remembered. “Joe just showed me one of those magazines where they usually say George Bush is having alien babies grown, and you know what I saw? A picture of you getting arrested.”

“Oh... that's why you called?” she asked quietly.

“What were you thinking Keely? A couple months in New York and you're already getting arrested? Do you even know what you were thinking? I had to see my daughter's mugshot in a magazine, you couldn't even have warned me first?”

Feeling an annoyance bubble up in her stomach, Keely shoved up from the wall, her tone turning nasty. “So all the sudden I'm your daughter again? And how the hell am I supposed to give you a warning, father? You haven't answered one of my phone calls from months.”

“You could have left a message,” he answered simply. “And I you can't-”

“You kind of lost the the privilege to tell me what I can and can't do the day I turned eighteen,” she reminded him. “I'll talk to you later, daddy.”

Resisting the urge to throw her cell, not only because it would be over dramatic but she also wanted to keep it since it proved to be useful, Keely simply slammed unnecessarily rough on the disconnect button. Dropping it carelessly on her bag she ran her hands over her face, leaning over slightly, the tears pricked her eyes as she took in the full extent of the conversation.

“Hey, rebel, you okay?”

Looking up at the murmured voice, Keely gave a loud sniff, swallowing the lump in her throat as she forced a smile on her face. “Yeah, I'm fine,” she answered, her voice sounding false to her own ears. “What did you want?”

Looking at her with a plainly worried face, his eyes darkening on her face, Seth took a step forward, but quickly stopped in his tracks. “I just wanted to tell you to hang around until we're done and I'll give you a ride back to your hotel.”

Rubbing her palms over her face, she pulled in a shaking breath. “Um, I think I'll just catch a cab, thanks though.”

He remained standing in front of her until Keely looked back up to him, his eyes searching her face closely. “Is there anything I can do?”

Immediately the tears welled up in her eyes, and despite her efforts to get rid of it, the lump in her throat came back, clogging all words. “No,” she returned thickly, pursing her lips together before continuing, “Nothing.”

“Seth, we need you!”

Giving a watery laugh at the falsetto Marco put into his voice as her called, Keely wiped the tears away from her eyes. “Go,” she told him when Seth remained immobile, sending him a little smile, “I'll be fine.”

Seth hesitated, looking at her, but Keely just said, “I want to change, and I'm not changing in front of you. So you might as well go.”

“You sure you don't want to just hang around?”

“Yes, the woman scares me.”

“Her name's Demet.”

“Figures,” muttered Keely, before she pointed to the door, “Now, go away.”

Sending her one last look he finally departed the room, allowing her to shut the door behind him and give a loud sigh.

Not wanting to think about the conversation with her dad, at that moment or ever for that matter, Keely hastily stripped out of her costume, leaving it piled on the bench before slipping back into her comfortable jeans and baggy sweater. Just grabbing her guitar and bag, she hurried out of the change room.

As she walked out, Colton perked up, waving a hand out her. “Call Marissa!” he shouted.

“Why?” she asked, walking towards them, noticing absentmindedly that they had their instruments out again.

“Just do it, she needs to talk to you about tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Could we get back to the matter at hand?” asked the grumpy reporter.

Making a face at them, Keely said a hasty goodbye, moving her way towards the doors that looked quite welcoming at the moment.

But as she pressed her hand on the door to shove it open she paused, hearing familiar chords that she was sure were not songs from the boy's new album. To be honest, she'd listened to NSR's Sons of Silence more times than she'd admit, and she was sure there was no cover of The Beatles' It's Only Love.

Glancing towards the box where they still sat, Keely could just make out the back of their heads, bronze hair, then dark and then blonde. But she could clearly make out the sounds of each separate instrument and then Seth's voice when he began to sing.

“I get high when I see you go by

My oh my.

When you sigh, my, my insides just fly,

Butterfly.

Why am I so shy when I'm beside you?

It's only love and that is all,

Why should I feel the way I do?

It's only love, and that is all,

But it's so hard loving you.

Is it right that you and I should fight

Every night?

Just the sight of you makes nighttime bright,

Very bright.

Haven't I the right to make it up girl?”

Before the last verse could be sung, Keely gave a little sigh, pushing through the doors lead to the streets.

She didn't end up calling Marissa until she left her cab in front of the hotel, strolling inside and sending an absent wave in Mr Englis' direction.

“Hi!” came the girl's bright and bubbly voice across the line.

Smiling slightly Keely pressed the button to call for the elevator, saying, “Hey M James. Colton told me to call you?”

“Yes! I was wondering if he'd do that, they boy can be so forgetful-”

Snorting Keely interrupted her, “And the point?”

“Oh, yeah, you have to come to Seth's apartment tonight?”

“What?” she asked disbelievingly as she stepped into the – thankfully – empty elevator, pressing her floor number.

“You have to come to Seth's apartment tonight, we're all going to be there. All meaning me, Seth, Marco, Colton and you! And most likely a call to Ms Cooper who I'm feeling ignored by. But, anyways, it's our last get together before the tour.”

A frown moving across her mouth, Keely leaned back against the wall. “What are you talking about? The last get together before the tour?”

“Tomorrow's our first show, Staub.”

“Huh? What day is it?

“Thursday,” answered Marissa patiently.

Still frowning she began to do the math in her head. “Yeah, Thursday, but that means that the tour doesn't start until... Friday... which is tomorrow.”

“Glad you caught up,” Marissa giggled, “So tonight, come over to Seth's apartment, it'll be fun.”

Before Keely could answer there was a click on the other line, proving that the line had been disconnected. Groaning she dragged herself to her hotel room, her last night in that hotel. But she didn't want to savor the moments there, because she was still pretty set against thinking at the moment. Not to mention tired.

Sleeping immediately seemed the best option, she'd just have to wake up to go to Seth's apartment. With that thought in mind, she dragged herself up the stairs and all the way to her bed, and simply fell into her bed, her bag still hooked around her and her guitar hitting the bed beside her while the cell phone fell from her hand to land on the bed beside her head.

- Okay, to be honest with you all, I was going to put the scene at Seth's apartment in this chapter, but I'm way too bloody tired, it's four in the morning here and I'm going out of my mind at the moment. Anyways, I'll just add it to the next chapter. Usually I wouldn't post until I had it done, but whatever.

Boooooooooooy you're gonna carry that weight.

Dude I'm way too tired.

My rant isn't even going to make sense. 

I don't think it ever does anyways.

Song on the side is It's Only Love by the Beatles.

Thanks to everyone who said happy birthday, you're almost better than my family lol. I had to go pick up an ice cream cake that I was forced to get, and then buy sushi for my family. Happy birthday to meeeee. I got an ice cream cake with scooby doo on it, he rocks, it's my whole childhood besides Harry Potter. I was going to get the Justin Bieber one because it would be enjoyable to cut through his head. No, joking lol, I'm not that mean. I don't even notice him for the most part, I've never actually heard a song, I've just seen screaming girls. The radio is broken in my car - I'm going to get neighbor to try and figure that out - so I just play the music off of my phone, and wa la. Everything is good. I like the music on my phone.

Bah humbug.

I watched movies, ordered pizza and ate candy with my best friend from childhood that I haven't talked to in years, plus with others. The screwed up thing is she's the one who dropped out of high school, and she's got her whole life together lol. She's living with her boyfriend of three years, who can play the guitar awesome, has pets and a job on the local dog kennel. 

I took the dogs for a walk too, that was fun, and that was with someone else, and he brough his dog too.

The night before ahhhhh.

I'm getting too tired, I'm going to burst into hysterical tears soon.

"Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur.

Happy kitty, sleep kitty, purr purr purr"

You know who that was for, you person. 

Blah

I could write this whole book with only Beatle songs, I swear. 

Okay I'm done, I think I've rambled suffieciently enough by now. I don't think I spelt that word right, but I don't give a flying -beep- I'm -beeping- tired.