“C’mon, rebel, you’ve got to wake up.”

Although she would have liked to do something like dramatic shouting, Keely just gave a groan into the mattress, wishing fleetingly to float back into sleep.

However she resisted the temptation. Raising her head, she rolled over awkwardly, rubbing her forehead as it already started its pulsing headache. “What?” she grumbled, her voice coming out in a croak, half from her as of late chronic sore throat and the other husky from just awaking.

“You’re on stage in ten minutes,” Seth answered.

Confused she finally focused on her surroundings. Contrary to her belief, she wasn’t in the tour bus, though the couch she was sleeping on was equally punishing. It was a fairly large room with mirrors and the objects she needed for the show spread around.

Eventually turning her gaze to him, Keely found Seth crouching down beside the couch, a slight frown gracing his lips as his eyes study her seriously with a line between his brows.

“When did we even get to a stadium?” she asked blankly.

“Only about two hours ago,” he replied, reaching out to gently brush her bangs away from her eyes.

Groaning she pushed herself up, knocking his hand away as she swung her legs over the side of the couch. “What about sound check?” she mumbled, leaning her head tiredly into her hands. “What about me warming up?”

“You’re really tired, aren’t you?” Seth chuckled, standing up.

Rubbing her eyelids, she just gave a half-hearted snort, but it jarred her throat awkwardly, making her wince. Suddenly thankful that her hands were hiding her face, she shrugged. “I don’t even know. It feels like in the past months I’ve been half awake for most of it.”

“This tour is insane, it’s not just you. We’ve never done one like it, feels like we’re doing a different stadium every night. But you didn’t get a sound check today, none of us did, we just got into town two hours ago. You warmed up with your band when we did, but went and passed out in here.”

Keeping her eyes closed for just a moment, Keely drew in a deep sigh, her throat protesting at even that. “Okay, well, I’ll see you later,” she mumbled hoarsely, standing up.

Without a glance at him, she pushed out of her dressing room, rubbing her throat when she was out of sight.

The pain of her sore throat used to go away after a particularly hard session in the studio or after a show; it would be gone by the next day usually. Then as the tour progressed, it had taken a day or two to get to that point. And now it didn’t go away, just left her to sing through a throat that felt as if it was on fire every show they did.

Frowning at the thought, she just made her way through the dark halls without windows towards the stage. She was now beginning to hear the evidence of a concert being played, her soundproof change room blocking out all sounds of The Cavern Jets. But as she neared the stage, Aaron’s voice – which she found a little on the bo

ring side, but who was she to talk these days? – flew down the halls at her, the guitar and bass throbbing with Will’s drumming that was much too soft.

She stood at the side of the stage, singing along to the songs she’d memorized from them over the tour to warm up as she ignored her protesting throat. It was only minutes until her band reached her while the other band left the stage.

The sound of the crowd swelling in anticipation for their arrival, Keely squeezed her eyes shut, telling herself that all pain was in her head. After all, isn’t that what people say? But her burning throat stayed the same. Taking her worn in Stratocaster from one of the sound guys named Doug, she slung it over her shoulder, waiting to go on stage.

But as The Bitter Rivals started walking on stage before her as was their routine, Keely felt a bolt of panic in her stomach and she quickly grabbed at John’s arm, holding him still before he could step fully on. “Where are we?” she asked hurriedly.

His brow furrowing in confusion, he still answered, “Houston.”

Nodding quickly, she stepped around him, the cheers welling up in her ears as she came into view. Running in faux energy that she really didn’t have much of, just what the crowd was giving to her, Keely got to the microphone. “Hey Houston!” she shouted into the microphone, making the noise level jolt up at least ten notches.

Without a halt, she stormed into the first song of the set list she’d written, just realizing that it might not be the best song to start out with. But the crowd began pulsing as they jumped up down to Yesterday’s Gone, some hands holding cameras and others in the classic symbol of rock and roll as they moved.

As she finished up with her set, Keely gave one last goodbye to the incredibly loud crowd before setting off the stage, guitar in hand as she whisked the sweat from her forehead. The moment she stepped away, her trance she fell into while playing music making her more confident and outgoing than ever before shattered, leaving her with only the reminder of a burning throat.

Carefully hiding it from the crowd, she lifted her arm, coughing into the crook of her arm, hoping it would relieve the pain. But it far from helped, just making her grimace as she stepped out.

Almost immediately Marco and Colton passed by her, rushing to the stage and getting an immediate reaction from the crowd.

Letting a little chuckle go through her chest, though she didn’t let the sound out in fear of her throat, Keely just shook her head, letting her eyes move back in front of her. Yet she was almost immediately found herself hastily pulling up to a stop.

Seth was paused right in front of her, reading to go on stage, his guitar already strapped on, but he was immobile. His eyes were what caused her to stop, because she usually would have just side stepped him to get back to her change room where she could start her search for water, her water bottle on stage drained long ago. They were dark again as they stared at her, the worry plain as he stood in front of her, blocking her way.

Instead of speaking, Keely just forced her mouth into a tiny smile, shaking her head. Silently she stepped past him, placing her hand fleetingly on his arm before continuing on. Precise guitar chords ringing from behind her proved that he’d gone on stage as she moved away.

She just sat, curled up in the corner of the couch in the dressing room, the door open a crack so she could hear NSR as they played their set list. Swallowing the ball in her throat that formed as she heard Seth sing so easily, she lifted her water bottle to her lips, hastily gulping down what she could. And for a moment it helped, soothing the constant fire that burnt through it, but within seconds the burn was back.

But when she heard the beginning of the song she’d been waiting for, Keely emptied what was left of the water before forcing her legs to take her back to the stage.

Even with her dark mood of late, she found a real smile even if it was a small one coming onto her mouth. Leaning her shoulder against the doorway that lead to the stage, she watched as Seth stepped up to the microphone while the song was coming to an end. He was completely focused on the guitar; it was almost like the singing was absentminded when he brought out the last line of the song they’d written together back when.

When the notes faded out absolutely, she closed her eyes, pulling herself into her mind as she pressed her forehead against the enormous doorframe.

Opening her eyes again she watched as Marco and Colton left the stage, Seth now out of sight from her position. The guys happily going past her with words of encouragement, Colton pressed the wireless microphone into her hand, patting her on the back easily as they hurried out of sight.

For a moment she just stood there, waiting for the familiar piano bar and when she heard it, she just took a deep breath in before stepping out onto the stage. When she came into sight, the noise level from the crowd seemed to rise to a point where it was tangible against her skin. Smiling at them, she sent them a wave as she walked to the front of the stage, holding the microphone up to her mouth.

Usually she would have given everything in her lungs to the song, but she was scared if she went full out all it would result in would be her voice cracking on stage and leaving her in a coughing fit. So she let her voice take on a softer, sweet sound instead of the usual powerful blast she’d have given.

“It’s a little bit funny this feeling inside. I’m not one of those who can easily hide,” she sang out in perfect time. Turning her head, she found Seth again though her body was still facing the crowd. “I don’t have much money but boy if I did, I’d buy a big house where we both could live.”

It was almost an odd sight to see him there. She’d always known he could play the piano brilliantly, it was the first musical thing she’d ever seen him do. But to see him sitting behind the gleaming black piano playing an Elton John song with his nimble fingers crooning the music out of the keys while wearing a black Fugazi shirt above a long sleeved white shirt that was shoved up to elbows and a pair of ripped jeans. In one way it seemed completely wrong, but in the other it was absolutely perfect.

Looking up at her he sent her a smile that grew until the dimple in his left cheek was showing. Even though her voice felt rough, she couldn’t help but send him a mirrored expression, “If I was a sculptor, but then again, no. Or a girl who makes potions at a travelling show. I know it’s not much but it’s the best I can do. My gift is my song and this one’s for you.

“And you can tell everybody this is your song. It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done.” As the words flowed from her mouth, she stepped towards the piano, running her hand along the smooth surface as she walked. “I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words. How wonderful life is while you’re in the world.

“I sat on the roof and I kicked off the moss,” she sang out, her lip brushing against the black top of the microphone. Even as the note fell off her lips, Keely took a seat on the edge of the black piano bench, her leg brushing against his. “Well a few of these verses, they’ve got be quite crossed,” Keely continued with the lyrics, hitting the notes perfectly as she turned her body so it was angled towards Seth on the piano bench. “But the sun’s been quite kind while I wrote this song. It’s for people like you who keep it turned on.”

It felt almost like she was singing straight to him, and maybe a large part of her was. “So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do. You see I’ve forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue. Anyways the thing is, what I really mean,” Keely sang, watching his fingers move across the keyboard. Feeling his gaze, she looked up into his golden eyes, making the next lyrics ring true. “Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

Even as she sang the chorus again and sang the reprise lyrics at the end of the song, Keely didn’t look away from his eyes. But the moment the song ended, she quickly drew the microphone away from her mouth as she felt the scratch in her throat intensify.

The crowd was cheering loudly in response to the end of the song, but she barely noticed, focused on one thing. She didn’t want to start coughing in front of the crowd, Keely couldn’t say why but it was as if she didn’t want them to know that she wasn’t as perfect as she should have been for them.

Hiding her face by turning into his shoulder, coughing so violently that her shoulders shook with the movement and her throat protested angrily even as she gasped for air. Instantly Seth wrapped his arm around her waist, shouting in her ear if she was alright. The crowd, mistaking the moment for something it wasn’t began to squeal and Keely could practically hear the pictures snapping.

When the fit finally ceased, Keely raised her head and pulled out of his grasp, wanting to be as far away from him and the crowd as she could get. But she just sent him what she hoped was a reassuring look, wiping her sleeve across her mouth, however he didn’t appear to be convinced as he frowned, his eyes darkening upon her face. Ignoring him she stood up, waving to the crowd before blowing them a kiss and heading off the stage quickly.

Slamming the dressing room behind her, Keely leaned against it heavily as she rubbed her throat. What kind of vocalist wasn’t even able to get through a song without breaking?

Yet as suddenly as the thought crossed her mind, the coughing started up again ripping mercilessly inside her throat. Doubling over, she leaned her palms against her knees, the fit travelling down to make her stomach clench painfully even as the tears smarted at the sides of her eyes.

Taking a step forward, Keely covered her mouth with her hand, but only then did her eyes catch the glimpse of red on the sleeve of her white shirt. But before she could focus further, the fit worsened, causing her to clench her eyes together as she moved blindly through the room, banging her knees against the couch, coffee table and even her bureau, but she eventually made it to the bathroom attached, flinging herself at the sink just in time.

Groaning, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, keeping her eyes closed as she bent over, leaning her forehead against the cool porcelain, gasping in her raggedy breaths.

When her breathing came to a much more regular pace though there was still a worn out hitch to it, she finally raised her eyes, looking into the mirror. But what she saw made her eyes drop horrified to her hand, blood streaked across the back. In the motion, her eyes caught what she’d coughed up during the fit.

Instantly she reached out, turning the knobs hastily so the water streamed into the sink. But when the water didn’t wash away the blood she’d coughed up fast enough, she used her hands, rubbing away the vivid color against the white sink until there was nothing left.

Scraping at her hands so the blood rushed off underneath the spray, she kept her lips pressed tightly together. There was a tense ball in her throat, moisture pressing against the back of her eyes and her lips starting to tremble. Why was she close to tears now when she’d been in more pain before?

A knock at the door had her jolting. Her eyes snapping up to the mirror in front of her, finding that there was blood streaked across her mouth and chin as well.

“Keely?” called Colton’s voice. “We’ve got to head off soon.”

Hastily she ripped some water towel from the dispenser, letting the water run over it before scraping it across her face until it was a burning red, but there was no blood.

“Hey, Keel, you okay in there?”

“Yeah,” she shouted, her voice coming out in a breathless raspy croak. Hearing the door of her dressing room open, she tossed the bloody paper towel into the garbage in the corner of the room. Hearing the footsteps, she leaned over, splashing water into her face.

After an appropriate space of time had passed, she pasted an amiable expression on her face and looked up, the false smile making her mouth ache. “What’s up?” she asked, her voice coming out hoarsely.

Colton frowned slightly, but shrugged. “Nothing, we just got to get going. They’ve still got to take down the stage, but you have a CD signing tomorrow morning. Hey, what’s that on your shirt?”

He reached out, but Keely hastily ripped her arm back, pushing around him. “It’s just some ketchup,” she said at random, grabbed a hoodie at random and pulling it on so the blood splotch was hidden. “I haven’t packed anything up yet; want to give me a hand?”

The yawn that escaped her mouth made Keely take in a sharp intake of breath, scraping painfully on her raw throat.

Thankful that she had her back turned to the boys, she grimaced slightly, hunching her shoulders over as she focused firmly on the paper in front of her. She was writing the set list for the show later in the day on the pad of paper sitting on the table.

At one point there had been some sort of a list. Now, however, the song titles were scratched out, arrows travelling around the paper only for the words rewritten only to be violently scuffed out with the black pen once again.

She was in conflict as she stared down; trying to block out the sounds of the boys who were mocking some talent show they’d recorded the other night. The thought of singing Yesterday’s Gone was enough to make her sick to her stomach. Just shouting in a song was terrifying, and that shamed her at the same time. This is what she did, what she loved, it was all she was good at.

Shaking her head, Keely ran her hand over her face wearily, cupping her cheek as she stared down at the sheet, scratching out all the songs on the list again.

Flipping over the page, she got to a new on and started jotting down the list again, clenching her mouth at the thought of singing it. There was no getting around it, she couldn’t go to her own concert and not play her songs, what would happen then wasn’t something she didn’t want to think about. And she had to especially play Yesterday’s Gone, the crowd has this reaction to it that happened to none of her other songs so it couldn’t be that it was number one in the US at that moment. They were reacting to it and as much as she was scared of the pain that would come when she screamed the lyrics, she was as much afraid to take the song out of her show.

Even the fact that she had a Janis Joplin cover in the list made her stomach sink dangerously.

Dropping her pen, she ran her hands over her face, digging them into her hair and pulling it away from her face.

The bus coming to a halt Keely pulled her hands away to grab her bag that was sitting propped against the window. Standing up awkwardly in the seat, she stuffed the notebook into it before stepping out as Marco and Colton took off out of the door, shoving each other in their haste and excitement to get off the bus.

“Hey rebel,” called out Seth, successfully getting her to stop in her tracks.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she pulled in a bracing breath. If there was anybody she didn’t want to know about the extent of what was happening to her throat and voice, it was him. Time to get good at acting.

As she opened her eyes, she watched while he grabbed his guitar case from his bunk bed, the plain blue tee shirt tightening just around his chest casually with the motion. “Are you coming with us after your signing?”

“Where?” she returned dully, camouflaging a grimace when she realized she was not now a good enough actor to hide her mood.

“We figured we’d all go out and grab something to eat the moment you’re done,” Seth grinned charmingly, stepping towards her on the bus. “We wanted to teach Colton how to sing right after. You in?”

Gulping, she just pressed her lips together, shaking her head silently as she turned away.

How was she supposed to try and help Colton sing any better when she could barely get out words?

“What’s–?” Seth started from behind her, his tone bewildered.

Not willing to tell him either of the reasons she refused to go with them, Keely just kept walking to the end of the bus. “Just leave me alone,” she told him bluntly, shoving open the door without a second glance.

Instead of going to the stadium that the bus had parked behind, no hotel seeing as the moment the concert was done that night they’d be back on the road in search of their next show, Keely hedged around it hastily. Getting to the road in the middle of the midst of the city, it wasn’t long until she was able to hail a cab for herself with the prowess of her time spent in New York City without a car having made it one of her greatest skills.

She arrived at the mall to fans that hadn’t been allowed in flowing outside excitedly, the ones that hadn’t lined up early enough to make it inside for the limit Maureen had set up. There was a small pathway leading up to the front doors, but it was crowded by the fans and made the pit of her stomach sink even deeper. Would they be able to tell about her voice?

However it was proved that she didn’t really need to speak, even if she’d opened her mouth and tried to get the words out the screeching and excited shouting from the crowd would have drowned her out. So she just moved forward, hugging those who asked, posing with a smile when a camera was shoved in her face and signing everything that was pushed into her hands. It felt like a dizzying blur.

And even when she was sat at the table in the middle of an open space in the mall, she was able to avoid speaking, pasting a fake smile on her face as she did the same thing as she’d done in the crowd, although now it was in a more organized fashion. Even that made her sick of herself, she should be enjoying this when there were fans had piled out to this point, but she couldn’t take her mind away from the ache growing in the back of her throat. She didn’t know what made her feel worse; being a fraud to the people who were coming up to her or what was happening to her voice.

And even though she knew her sound check was booked in just two hours later and her actions were going to make her miss it, Keely was able to get a member of security to call her a cab for her. It just took her another hour to get through the crowd before she could fall into the car awaiting her, telling the driver where to go in a hoarse whisper.

Pushing a pair of sunglasses on to hide her eyes, Keely leaned her head back against the seat, hauling in deep breaths that were supposed to be soothing but fell short.

What was more terrifying; keeping everything a secret and bundled inside only to be coughing up blood after the show or to tell a complete stranger only to cough up blood again? It was a hard decision. She was a private person; she liked to work things out in her own head before she told anyone. But there was a point where even the most secretive person had to let go, even if it was just an inch.

There was one thing she was completely sure of though. It was easier to tell a stranger about this than the person who knew her the most. She couldn’t tell Seth, she couldn’t tell him that she was losing her voice completely. Their entire relationship was built off her voice. If it hadn’t been for her voice, she’d never have gotten to New York in the first place.

Stepping out of the cab when it pulled to a halt in front of the prestigious looking private clinic, Keely swung her bag over her shoulder. Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her light grey blazer, she kept her eyes focused on the ground, letting her hair shield her face. She had no doubt that the press would find out about her little excursion in a matter of days, whether it be from someone on the street or a person in the hospital, but she wasn’t going to make it easier for them.

When she finally stepped through the doors into the bright air conditioned lobby with the floor to ceiling windows, she sent a quick look around, finding people waiting impatiently in uncomfortable looking chairs, flipping through outdated magazines. The blast of antibiotics aggravating her raw throat, making her couch loudly and turning away before the people could see her face.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she stepped towards the front desk, the girl sitting behind it with her eyes focused on the computer not even glancing up when the slight heel of Keely’s boots made clicking noises across the tile. Stopping awkwardly, she cleared her throat roughly, placing her hands on the top of the divider between the lobby and office.

But when the girl still didn’t glance at her, Keely began politely, “Hi–”

“Take a seat,” the girl told her rudely without a look.

Gritting her teeth, Keely straightened her shoulders. “I have an appointment with Dr Yorke,” she said, her words rasping out.

“Take a seat,” the girl replied in the same tone.

It wasn’t something she usually would do, much too shy to demand, but Keely wasn’t in the mood to be given the run around. This wasn’t a time where she was willing to stand idly by. “It’s under Keely Staub,” she snarled.

That was enough to make the girl who couldn’t be more than five years older than her swing around, her pretty brown eyes wide. But Keely didn’t soften her gaze, just stared down at her with an impatient look.

“I’ll – uh, I’ll go get the doctor,” she managed to get out before launching out of her seat.

“Thank you,” Keely responded, going back to her previous polite tone as she fell back a step, crossing her arms over her chest.

It wasn’t long until she was ushered into an office where Keely was immediately sat down in a chair by a doctor who tipped her chin up so he could shine a light down her throat without preamble. It didn’t surprise her; she’d told him what was wrong when she’d arranged the appointment only last night while the boys were sleeping.

Unable to do anything else but gaze up at him, she couldn’t help but notice that he bared a slight resemblance to a moose with his large ears and wide nose and mossy hair. At the thought a more than hysterical giggle rose in her throat, but she stifled it hastily. She wasn’t laughing because she believed her thoughts to be funny, but because the stress that was making her muscles so tense her hands gripping the arms of the chair had white knuckles.

Making a clicking sound in the back of his throat, Dr Yorke frowned down at her, tapping his fingers to his chin before heading back around his desk, pulling up a seat.

For a moment he just gazed at her and Keely couldn’t handle the silence.

Looking at him beseechingly she placed her hands on the desk between them pleadingly. “Look,” she began throatily. “I know you do things like this every day and this isn’t a big deal to you, but, guess what? It’s a big deal for me. This is my life. This is my career. This is everything. So just be straight with me, okay?”

With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, making Keely clench her jaw at his casual demeanor. “I won’t know what’s wrong for sure until we run some tests,” he told her eventually.

“How long will it take?” she questioned hurriedly.

“We can run all the tests here in the next few hours, since it’s you. But I’m not going to have all the results for about two weeks…”

Two weeks? Those words were where she stopped listening. She wouldn’t know what was wrong for two weeks. For all she knew, she could be spitting up blood after every show she did by that point. How many shows did they have booked in these next two weeks? The shows had seemed exciting to her not but a few months before, but now, looking at them, it seemed nothing short of torture.

“… and you’ll come back here and we’ll go over all the options,” he continued when she began to hear him speak again.

“In two weeks?” she croaked incredulously, “I won’t be here in two weeks. I’m going to be states away by that time; I’ve got concerts to play.”

He frowned deeply across the desk at her, the lines around his mouth deepening to a point where they looked they’d been drawn in with a knife. “You’ve got to cancel them,” he told her as if speaking to a child, “You can’t sing them right now, not when we don’t know what’s wrong. You don’t know what damage you could be doing to your voice at this point.”

“I can’t cancel,” she exclaimed, her voice coming out in a grating squawk. “I’m not Marissa James; I don’t have money to do that. I drop out of these shows, I get my ass sued in fifty different directions and this time my record label won’t be standing in front of me. You know how long it’d be before I could play another show after that?”

 “There’s nothing you can do, you have to cancel.”

“I can’t,” she told him imploringly, wishing him to understand. But the look in his eyes told her that there was nothing she could say to make him understand.

Pulling in a deep sigh, she shuffled back away from his desk, gripping her hands together tightly away from his sight, twisting them painfully as her throat began to scratch excruciatingly. “At least tell me what it could be,” she begged, staring up at him from beneath her dark lashes.

For the first time she thought she saw a flash of sympathy cross his face before he went back to his frown. “I don’t want to say anything for sure; it could be a number of things.”

“It’s not tuberculosis, is it?” she rasped. “Because I watched Moulin Rouge and Nicole Kidman was coughing up blood. And that movie had a really bad ending.”

“It’s very doubtful that you have TB, from what you’ve said it’s your throat while TB is in the lungs,” he assured her. “But I need tests to make sure. I don’t want to scare you, but you wanted it straight. It could be anything from throat cancer, tonsillitis, a virus, polyps or simple irritation. I just don’t know for sure.”

Knowing it wouldn’t do any good to antagonize him further, Keely pressed her lips together, running her hand through her hair. Why was she so close to tears again?

“I want you to reconsider about these shows,” Dr Yorke said, his tone suddenly soft and completely unlike it had been before. “At least for the next two weeks, how many would you really be cancelling in that span? One or two?”

Squeezing her eyes shut so she could keep in the tears that were threatening, she let out a hoarse unamused laugh. “Before they set up this new tour, you’d have been close. I have nine concerts in the next two weeks, Doc.”

He gave a loud sigh. “Well for now we’ll just get started on these tests, I’ll call you when we have the results and we’ll see where to go from there.”

Nodding slowly, Keely pushed herself up from the chair.

“Why did you miss the sound check?”

Pulling in a shaky breath, Keely stared down at her hands, feeling much too guilty to look up at John. Maybe a few months ago she’d have snapped at him, but now it just made her stomach writhe with shame.

How could she be hiding this from the people who it affected personally and the others who she loved?

Because she was scared. That’s how.

“It’s over, okay?” she returned, turning her eyes up to watch while NSR’s set was coming to an end. The vulnerability in her voice was clear, but she couldn’t help when it came out mixed with her pleading tone. “We had a good show; can you please just drop it?”

To her surprise, he did, letting her walk away on to the stage without a word at her cue.

Not wanting to meet Seth’s eyes, she instead smiled at the crowd, making eye contact with who she could as she walked up to the microphone they were going to share.

It was only when the music started did she finally look at him, it was a Bob Dylan song but they’d agreed long ago when they’d been practicing to sing it in the fashion of Johnny Cash and June Carter.

“Go away from my window, leave at your own chosen speed. I’m not the one you want, babe. I’m not the one you need,” Seth sang, his eyes focused on hers from his side of the microphone. Just the fact that his voice sounded so perfect and easy made Keely want to turn away and run from him, but the song was hitting her deep in the gut in her defenceless state.

Holding back the tears that were all too close lately, she stepped forward to the microphone as they sang together. “You say you're lookin' for someone, who's never weak but always strong. To protect you and defend you, whether you are right or wrong. Someone to open each and every door.” She tried to avoid his eyes, but it was difficult when they were staring at her so piercingly, like he knew exactly what she was thinking despite the thousands of people around them. “But it ain't me babe. No, no, no, it ain't me babe. It ain't me you're lookin' for, babe.

“Go lightly from the ledge, babe. Go lightly on the ground. I'm not the one you want, babe. I'll only let you down.”

As Seth moved into a solo section of the song, Keely turned away from him completely, listening to his words even though she’d have preferred to block everything out. She took in breathless gasps, half from her terrified erratic heart racing in her chest and the other half from the shortness of breath in her raspy throat.

“You say you're lookin' for someone, who'll promise never to part. Someone to close his eyes to you. Someone to close his heart. Someone to die for you and more.”

Turning back, she met right on time for the chorus. Why did it feel like this was as true as the last song she’d sung with him? “But it ain't me babe. No, no, no, it ain't me babe. It ain't me you're lookin' for, babe.”

Hours later found the four of them sitting in the tour bus.

But she was once again sitting up at the table, trying to write a set list that would be as kind to her throat as possible while still holding true to her ethics. The boys were sitting around in front of her on the couch, Seth with his guitar, Marco with his bass and Colton with a pair of drumsticks he was using on the counter as they practiced a song Seth wanted to use in the upcoming show.

Never before had she felt so separated from them. Yes, she’d never felt like she was a part of the band, because she obviously wasn’t and never would be. But she’d felt like she’d belonged. And now, sitting apart from them in silence while they sang, it felt like there was a wall set up between them.

Forcibly looking down at where Seth chuckled at something Colton did, she stared at her scratched out page while the boys continued to play the Angus and Julia Stone song Little Bird.

But suddenly Marco’s loud laugh broke her concentration, and apparently theirs as well because they cut off completely. “Hey Keely,” he called, making her look up to them again. “Can you do the Julia part to Seth’s Angus? I don’t think I’m doing it well enough.”

Knowing she couldn’t handle it, Keely opened her mouth, her heart sinking, but she didn’t get the words out.

“She can’t,” Seth cut in flatly, his eyes meeting hers across the space. For a moment no one said a word. “Don’t ask,” he finished, looking down at his guitar, all laughter forgotten from moments before.

Her whole body was tensed.

Yes, she’d been about to refuse but it was different with him saying that. It felt like a physical blow to her stomach, knocking out everything that she’d known.

With shaky hands, she pulled her hair back out of her face, staring at the dark window beside her, worried that if she cried the boys would have a full view. With eyes full of moisture but nothing falling, she watched as the world flashed by in a blur by the window.

- Don't hate me.

Anyways, Johnny Cash and June Carter's It Ain't Me Babe in the video on the side. I put Ellie Goulding's Your Song in the external link, I know it's Elton John and I love Elton John to death, but it seemed to fit the moment more. Yeah, the lyrics don't match up with her version, but they're doing a cover of Elton's version, not Ellie's so I kept true to the original. It's just the sound that changes it for me.

Cover on the side was once again made by absoluteinsanity, gorgeous, isn't it?

Me and Jules now have a twitter, we'll be posting stuff on it for our stories, like updates on things. So yeah, if you want to follow, have at it. If you don't, well, whatever.

Now I literally have a riding lesson like right now and I have to run and do it. Wish me luck. I just wanted to have this posted for you guys, I literally finished writing this a moment ago so there's no spell check because I have to run. -