"How’s the tour gone so far for you, then?”

Turning her lips up in a smile, Keely ran her hand through her hair. “Brilliant,” she answered, just the word making her want to hide as it felt as if someone was cutting the inside of her throat with a burning knife.

In reality she would have liked to let the smile drop and answer that it had been amazing at one point, but now it felt like torture every time she stepped onto the stage. All the kept her from crying every time she had to open her mouth and sing was the filled stadiums of her excited fans. If it wasn’t for them she had no idea what she’d be doing. Even with the pain and coughing that that occurred every show, she was still in love with the stage and didn’t want to give it up.

That was truly sick wasn’t it? Being in love with something that just hurt you time and time again, like clockwork.

But she didn’t say any of that, just answered in her hoarse voice that was barely there as if she was having the time of her life every show. And how had she ever thought that she was a bad actor?

“How long do you have left?” the reporter for the magazine asked, their interview being filmed to go up on the website.

Fixing the acoustic guitar held in her lap, she felt her eyes flicker over to the window of the viewing room. It was like she and the reporter were attractions in a zoo, people watching them closely from out of contact. Her eyes meeting Seth’s through the window, she quickly looked back to the journalist. “We just have the show tomorrow night then there’s a much needed two week break, we have our last show in Seattle and the tour is over.”

“Just in time for some summer festivals, right?” he returned, winking at her lightly.

The chuckle that escaped her lips quickly turned into a cough, making her hastily cover her mouth in the crook of her elbow. Her eyes unintentionally flickered over to Seth who was standing with his arms crossed, people on all sides and she couldn’t help but notice the concerned frown that furrowed his brow.

“We’ll see about that,” she returned mysteriously. Yet in her head, Keely couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever be able to do another tour again. Would anyone even want to hear her with the way she was performing lately?

She wasn’t doing a good enough job. Keely wasn’t an idiot, the crowd might still be ecstatic for having been to the concert, but they didn’t realize how truly awful of a performer she was lately. Every time she could see the looks on her bands faces that told her she wasn’t holding up, the concerned looks on Seth’s face, the confused look on Will’s face, the sympathetic looks from Marco, Colton and all the stage guys. It was everywhere she looked, people telling her she wasn’t good enough.

“So are you going to play us a song, then, Keely?” asked the journalist.

Nodding Keely looked down at her guitar, steeling herself against the pain that would invariably come. Even without a crowd, she was addicted to playing and no amount of agony was going to keep her away. But she was still scared.

“Since I already played Yesterday’s Gone, I thought I’d do a cover now,” she murmured, strumming the beginning chords.

Closing her eyes she felt her foot begin to type in time. And when she opened her mouth, her voice flowing out where it had once been natural, it came out in almost a croak. Two weeks ago when she’d been singing Your Song accompanied by Seth on the piano, she had managed to keep a somewhat smooth sweet sound. Now it was out of reach, coming out instead in a rasp that was almost completely alien.

“Little ditty about Jack and Diane, two American kids growin’ up in the heartland. Jacky’s gonna be a football star, Diane’s debutante backseat of Jacky’s car…”

Her voice broke in the middle of the John Mellencamp song, making her cough violently into her shoulder. With tears pricking the edge of her eyes, Keely picked up from the moment she left off, her foot tapping to where there was clapping in the song.

As much as she’d like to have disappeared into a hole in the ground, she straightened her shoulders, continuing to strum the song. “Gonna let it rock, let it roll. Let the bible belt come down, and save my soul. Hold onto sixteen as long as you can. Changes come around real soon, makes us women and men.”

Her voice cracked, an odd wheezing sensation appearing in her throat, but she just grimaced and continued on. Looking over the shoulder of the journalist who was staring at her with hungry eyes, she once again met Seth’s eyes without meaning to. Even if they barely had time to talk to each other anymore, between doing separate interviews, separate sets; he was still irresistible to her, no matter how much she wanted to push him away. She couldn’t be close to anyone, not when her voice was like this. Not when she was like this.

“…Oh yeah, life goes on. Long after the thrill of livin’ is gone,” she sang, a shadow of her old voice coming out as she stared at him. It felt as if the first to look away would be the one to fall. “A little ditty about Jack and Diane. Two American kids doing the best they can.”

Finishing up the guitar in a smooth fashion, so opposed to her voice, Keely finally tore her gaze away, looking the reporter flat in the eye.

“That’s an interesting choice of song,” he prodded.

Sighing Keely bent over tiredly, resting her cheek on the smooth wooden body of her guitar. “I think it’s universal. It’s not about a football star, his girlfriend, being American or anything. It fits us kids better than most songs I’ve heard.” Once again her eyes wavered over to Seth’s as her voice came down to a hoarse whisper, “Just two kids doing the best they can.”

“Well, we’re out of time,” he said regretfully, reaching out to shake her hand. “It was really nice having you here.”

“Nice being here,” she answered, standing up to snap her guitar into its case. Without a pause, she yawned, snatching up her guitar and heading out the door. She didn’t even pause when the people in the little viewing room turned to look at her.

Instead she just sent them a vague slight turn of the lips, pushing through to the door that opened to the heated summer air from the south. She was dressed to fit the weather, a baggy white Yuck tank top with a black pattern, ripped up jean shorts and high tops. But even then it still felt burning hot.

“Rebel, I need to talk to you.”

Sighing Keely rubbed her forehead, but kept walking down the road. “Better catch up then,” she called over her shoulder painfully.

“Would you stop for a minute?” asked Seth impatiently, grabbing her arm and pulling her to a stop. “I need to talk to you about the concert tomorrow night.”

Letting herself be dragged around so she was looking at him, Keely found she wished she had sunglasses on as his eyes searched her face. She’d been sleeping less than even him these past weeks, waiting desperately on a phone call and it was beginning to show in her sunken eyes and paling skin.

Lifting his hand so he could cup her cheek, his thumb brushed the tendril of hair out of her face gently. All she wanted to do was lean into the pressure, wrap her arms around his stomach and just cry into his chest for a while. She wanted to talk to him as painful as it was. But it didn’t matter that she’d done it before, she couldn’t do it now. She would talk to him the moment she knew what was going on. But for now, she wasn’t going to burden him with her worries; he had enough for a legion.

 So instead of letting herself lean against him as every fiber of her body was telling her, she pulled away slightly, leaving space between them.

His hand dropped away from her, but he didn’t step away, his eyes darkening on her face. “I need to talk to you about the concert tomorrow night,” he repeated, “I don’t want you to sing with us.”

I don’t want you to sing with us.

The words echoed in her head. For a moment she was just numb, staring up at him blankly. He didn’t want her to sing with them? He’d always wanted her to before; he was the one who would coerce her into doing so. Was she really that awful now that he didn’t even dare let her infringe on their performance for the last two shows of the tour?

“What? But I always sing with you guys now,” she whispered, her voice a desperate croak. “What are you saying?”

She found she was no longer numb. It felt as if she’d gotten kicked in the stomach by a horse repeatedly for the last half hour, but this was ten times worse.

“Do you think I don’t see it?” he asked, his voice coming out strained. “You coughed up blood on my shirt one night; I didn’t even notice it until we had to do laundry. You can barely get through a song anymore. And afterwards you can’t even talk. You look like you’re dying sometimes when you have to talk. You don’t sleep. You’re not eating the same. You don’t come out with us anymore. You barely even talk to Will. I see it, rebel.”

Her breath catching in her throat, Keely covered her mouth with her hand, her heart pounding against her chest. Closing her eyes, she tried to keep the panic inside of her; this was exactly what she hadn’t wanted. She hadn’t wanted it to anyone’s problem but hers.

“It’s just one song,” she rasped, dropping her hand and staring up at him with beseeching eyes that she could feel the tears welling up inside. “Please, Seth, it’s one song. It’s me and you, we need to do it. It’ll be fine after this, we’re all going back to New York for those two weeks and it’s going to be fine.”

Sadly Seth just grabbed her free hand, holding it in his. “No,” he told her simply, shaking his head.

Instantly she ripped her hand from his, spinning around.

“Just–”

This time it was her cell phone ringing that cut him off. Fighting back tears, she dug her phone out of her pocket, her lips trembling. “Stay away from me,” she snarled, answering the call and putting it to her ear as she hastened away, “What?”

“Keely, it’s Doctor Yorke,” the familiar voice came through the line. She stopped in her tracks. “You’re in Montgomery, are you not?”

Gripping the phone tightly, she breathed, “Yes.”

“Perfect, I have an associate there. If you’re free in an hour, he’s got a little free time. I’ve sent him all the information I have.”

She agreed.

There was no hesitation in her answer. She almost sprinted into the street to get a cab, rattling off the address to the driver as Dr Yorke was doing in her ear before hanging up on him.

Dropping her head in her hands, she breathed in sharply, trying to calm her galloping heart. This was it.

As ever, she was in conflict. One part of her just wanted to know what was wrong so she could figure out how to counter it.

But the other part was terrified. Hadn’t Yorke said there was a possibility of cancer? Her mother had had cancer. Could cancer be heredity? She had no idea. Wasn’t that something she shouldn’t looked into? After all these years, why had she never thought of it before? What if it turned out she had cancer? Wouldn’t they have to do surgery on it? Then her voice would be ruined indefinitely, would it not?

When they got in front of a practice that looked eerily similar to Dr Yorke’s office, Keely flung herself out of the cab, tossing the money at him and probably giving him an enormous tip. She barely even managed to grab her guitar before she was shooting out across the street.

A few cars honked as she darted through the street, but she didn’t pay them mind, finally slowing down when the hit the heavily air conditioned foyer.

“I was sent here–” she gasped, but didn’t get the words out before the friendly clerk smiled at her.

“Keely Staub, I presume?” he questioned, without waiting for an answer he stood up, gesturing her around. “I was told to bring you into the Doc’s office the moment you arrive. But first, I’m a big fan; do you think you could sign something?”

Although she was impatient, Keely forced a smile, signing the clipboard.

Showing her to an office up a few floors, she shoved through the door impatiently. With windows letting the sun shine in brightly behind his shoulders, the good looking older man with greying hair stood up with a charming smile, straightening the lab coat that he was wearing over a pair of green scrubs.

“Hello Keely, I’m–”

Unable to keep her mouth shut, Keely dumped her things at the door and darted into the room. “I know, lovely to meet you, but please save the fucking pleasantries and just tell me the truth.”

He blinked blankly at her, but quickly recovered, gesturing to the seat as he took his own.

Instead of sitting, she crossed her arms in front of her, almost as if she was readying herself to block the blow.

“Well, all the test Dr Yorke ran came back negative,” he began, tapping the open folder in front of him.

Her heart stuttered to an abrupt stop, but then jittered off into an adrenalin induced sprint inside her chest as she frowned down at him. “Then there’s nothing wrong with me?” she questioned throatily. “But there’s obviously something wrong with me. Do you just not know what it is?”

“Just sit down,” he said, pointing to the seat.

For once obedient, Keely lowered herself into it slowly.

“All that’s wrong with you is over use,” he told her carefully. “Your voice is a muscle. And obviously yours wasn’t trained for the amount of strain you’ve been putting on to it. How long have you been singing professionally before this?”

Rubbing her collar bone absently, Keely stared out the window, the words not taking effect yet. “I never had. I sang maybe a couple songs a night, but nothing until earlier this year.”

“And how much do you sing now?”

“At least two hours a day for days without concerts just for practice, then if it’s a concert day I probably sing about four or five hours with sound check, practice and then the show,” she murmured, her voice creaking with rust.

The doctor sent her a sad smile. “That’d do it.”

Frowning, Keely looked at him closely, “Even the coughing up blood?”

He frowned at her words. “Yes, that too. But that’s very worrisome. The fact that the irritation has become so severe and you’re still singing, it’s a wonder how you can do it. You’ve got to be in intense pain every time you sing.”

Biting her lips, she simply nodded, not trusting her voice or herself for a moment. “What do I do?”

“Stop singing,” he told her seriously. “You need to stop right now or else you’re just making it worse, this past while where you’ve been singing constantly even with knowing there’s something seriously wrong have been doing horrible damage already. There’s not much we can do besides that, you need to take a break. Drink tea with honey, throat lozenges and along those lines. But the best thing you can do is to stop using your voice the best you can, or else you’re going to lose it completely.”

“I can do that,” she murmured gratingly. “After tomorrow night’s show, I’ve got two weeks off.”

Sending her an incredulous look, the doctor quickly shook his head. “No, no more shows until after you rest.”

Determinedly, Keely shook her head in response. “It’s one show and then I’ll rest.”

“No, you can’t. I can’t press on you how much you should not do this concert. You’ve been running on luck for the fact you haven’t blown your voice out already. You’re just tempting fate this way.”

Ignoring him she pushed up, walking to the door and grabbing her things. “Thanks doctor.”

It was worse than ever before.

She could barely even hit the correct notes anymore as she stood on stage, her guitar in hand as she stood in front of her microphone. John was sending her worried looks every time she glanced around. Her voice was breaking through the songs. Between songs she was coughing, but every time she turned away from the crowd hiding it.

Then there was the pain. She couldn’t even describe it. It was almost as if someone was running a serrated edged knife that was red hot across her throat while yanking the muscles taught. Tears were trickling down her cheeks as she sang, but thankfully they were hidden by the sweat draining from her pores.

Straightening the strap over her shoulder, she stepped forward to the microphone. Last song of the night, she thought with relief. After this she was free. She would go back to New York with the boys for two weeks and rest her voice, everything would be fine.

“So I think you guys might know this song,” she shouted into the microphone to be heard of the screaming of the crowd. “You guys seem to like it from what I’ve been hearing lately. Yesterday’s Gone.”

The reaction was immediate, the noise level shooting up several notches as they began to jump up and down. Banging her head along to the drum piece, she stepped up into the microphone as she played the guitar, watching as the crowd began to jump and down in front of her.

But she only got into the first chorus when her voice broke.

Coughing brutally, she dropped her hands from the guitar, throwing them over her mouth.

That was the first time she’d began coughing in the middle of a song on stage before. But the shame for doing that to her fans hadn’t even set in before the fit got more vicious, causing her shoulders to shake.

Hastily spinning to the side, she was in hope to hide it from the crowd. Suddenly the screaming had died out, replaced with hushed whispers running through the entire stadium. Even her band had stopped playing, but she didn’t notice anything around her, the microphone catching the sound of her spasm and echoing it around the building.

She didn’t notice that her entire band had abandoned their instruments, hurrying over to her as she felt her knees weaken dangerously, letting her waver to a point it was a wonder she managed to stay on her feet, bending over with the convulsions ripping through her body. She didn’t notice that security had turned away from the crowd to look up at her. She didn’t notice that Seth was at the edge of the stage, Marco holding onto his shoulder with their stage crew and the rest of the acts watching, focused solely on her.

But she did notice when the blood sputtered out of her mouth, giving a full view for everyone around her as it spattered her acoustic guitar. The garish red flecks speckling the oak body of the guitar.

Running her hands over her clammy forehead, she dragged her hair away from her face as her breathing rushed brokenly from her mouth so she could have a clear view. A pin might have dropped in the middle of the stadium. The faces were staring at her in similar shocked expression.

Dropping her hands away from her face, she quickly looked around, feeling suddenly very small and worthless in the eyes of everyone focused on her.

Not knowing what else to do, she pulled her guitar off her shoulder, dropping it barely onto its stand before stumbling off the stage. She didn’t let anyone catch her as she shoved through the crowd who was still in disbelief and she took off through the halls, not listening as people called her name, rushing out onto the street.

The night was freezing opposed to the hot southern day and nipped at her short clad legs, but she didn’t even notice. Keely couldn’t take a cab; she had no money on her so she started walking. And kept walking until she finally found her hotel, looking at the ground as to not meet any eyes, how long would it be until that was posted across the internet? In her numb walk to her hotel it had been about an hour, it was probably all over the web by then.

Numbly getting to her hotel room and locking the door behind her she headed straight for the laptop on the side table. It didn’t take long until she found what she was looking for.

Not feeling the need to watch herself having felt that not too long ago, Keely scrolled down to the comments that were bounding up by the second. Sitting there shivering since the chill had gotten into her bones on the walk home, Keely just scrolled through what she thought were her fans were saying.

“That’s disgusting.”

“How can someone do that? That’s a gross publicity stunt.”

“She’s such a bad singer.”

“What kind a musician does she think she is?”

“If she can’t even sing a song, why do people bother to go to her shows?”

“She sucks.”

“Shows that it was all just hype I guess, nowhere as good as she pretended to be.”

There were a few nice comments in there, but they seemed all too far and few in between.

But the worst part was that she agreed with them.

Who was she fooling? If it wasn’t true, it wouldn’t be affecting her this much. Everything they were saying was true. What kind of musician was she if she couldn’t even sing her own song? A pathetic one. She didn’t deserve to have any fans with what she was doing.

Suddenly a blast of anger pushed through her and she shoved her computer violently off the desk. It hit the ground with a bang, the screen going black as it cracked awkwardly.

Letting out a frustrated cry, she dug her hands into hair, pulling on it as the sound jarred her throat painfully. Shooting up from the chair, she began to pace back and forth across the room.

What was she even doing now? She was no kind of singer. She didn’t deserve to have any of this if she couldn’t prove it. She’d given everything to have this, her relationships, everything. Let go of everything that she’d loved and hadn’t even looked backed and look where it got her. Came back and bit her in the ass, that’s where.

Who was she without her voice? No one. All she wasand wanted to be revolved around her voice.

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she quickly dialed a number she knew off by heart by now as she lunged over the bed, falling awkwardly over the other side to where her suitcase was sitting open with clothes overflowing from it.

“Hello?”

“Maureen,” Keely greeted, her scratchy voice barely audible, “I need you to do something for me.”

Still in her concert clothes three hours later with the exception she’d grabbed a light blue hoodie and thrown it over her shirt, Keely hurried down the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator.

She’d looked in Seth’s room, he hadn’t been there and she needed to find him.

Hurrying across the lobby she got suspicious and pitying looks, but she ignored them completely, her throat protesting angrily against the exertion. Hastily checking through the large lobby, she found neither hide nor hair of him, sending her out the glass front doors in a hurry.

Letting out a sigh, she wrapped her arms around herself, peeking in one direction to only find disappointment.

“Rebel!”

The familiar nickname paired with the voice made her swing around to the dark figure hurrying towards her.

“Where the hell have you been?” Seth accused, hurrying closer, his eyes darkened in fury. They were thankfully standing just out of all light coming from the hotel, hidden from sight in the shadows. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, none of us could find you; we’ve been looking for hours.”

To her surprise when she’d expected him to just yell at her, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her against his hard chest. For a moment Keely found herself frozen, but she hastily wrapped her arms tightly around his back, pressing her face into his chest and breathing in deeply. A part of her knew this was a bad idea, that she was just making everything worse. But she couldn’t make herself pull away. Despite everything, she loved him.

And the way she felt, she wouldn’t be surprised if she’d never be able to love anyone as passionately as she did him. It didn’t matter that she was just eighteen, there was no doubt in her mind that she would ever find someone who could top Seth Michael Vaughn. He’d forever be the one in her head who she would compare every man in her life to, and none of them would ever compare; he so easily shadowed everyone in her mind. Everything about him drew her in and there was no way she could stop it.

“I need to tell you something,” she croaked sorely, her voice muffled by his chest. Taking one last deep breath of his scent, she pulled away, her heart aching as she looked up at his handsome face, staring down her with worried eyes.

“I need to tell you something to,” he replied, cupping her face with his hands.

Was it possible for your heart to simply shatter under too much strain? Because that’s what it felt like hers was about to do.

Reaching up and brushing a lock of his messy hair off his forehead, she shook her head. “I need to tell you first.”

“I’m going first,” he told her firmly, his eyes focused on hers. “Oh, what the hell,” Seth muttered.

Tipping her chin up, he dragged her closer to him, drawing her upwards into his arms. Her breathing completely stopped and she let herself be pulled, her eyes focused on nothing but his gold ones that were smoldering beneath the crappy lighting they were standing in, throwing interesting shadows of the planes of his face.

Her eyes wanted to flicker closed, and she almost let them. But when their lips were just a hairsbreadth apart, Keely finally came back to herself. Remembering her reasons.

“What the hell are you doing?” she exclaimed, shoving him away with her hands on his chest. Her voice came out in a cracked whisper, the loudest she could manage as she stared up at him with wide eyes.

“Are you really that oblivious?” he grinned, stepping closer. “I thought I made it obvious.”

“I know what you were trying to do,” Keely responded nastily, pushing him away so there was more space between them. “Did you forget what just happened?”

Shaking his head, Seth replied confidently, “Doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?” she uttered. “It’s everything that matters. I can’t even sing right now. I just coughed blood onto a guitar in front of thousands of people and you’re all the sudden trying to kiss me for some reason. What are you trying to do?”

Suddenly not so confident, he dropped back a step, running his hands through his hair. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know,” Keely replied in a strangled voice, her hands shaky as she raised them to her lips. “But you can’t do that.”

“And why not?” he asked boldly, his eyes abruptly fierce.

Letting out a wobbly breath, she raised her hand to her still clammy forehead as she stared at him. What was he doing? Why now? “I’m leaving,” she revealed, the words falling from her mouth like bricks.

Frowning he just nodded slowly. “I know you are, so I am. Everyone is. We’re flying back to New York tomorrow morning.”

Shaking her head, she ran her hand along her face until she was cupping her mouth, her knees feeling as if they might give out beneath her at any moment. Why did this feel so much harder than anything that she’d ever done? It couldn’t be, she was just being overdramatic… wasn’t she? “I’m going home.”

“Yeah, to New York, are you getting a cold, rebel?” he asked, raising a hand to touch it to her forehead.

Smacking his hand away, Keely bit her lip as she stared up at him. What hurt more was the question, her heart or her throat. “New York’s not my home,” she croaked, “I’m going back to Bellingham.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Why?” he asked simply, all emotion sliding off his face. “Is something wrong? Your dad is okay, isn’t he?”

Letting out a strangled laugh that irritated her throat further, Keely buried her face in her hand. “Of course there’s something wrong, Seth! Were you not watching what happened on stage tonight? What else am I supposed to do?”

“You have two weeks off; you come with me to New York and rest your voice. You don’t run away.”

“I’m not running away,” she snarled.

Suddenly angry as well, Seth snapped back at her, “Then what do you call this? You’re running from music and you’re running away from us.”

“There is no us!”

“Then what is this?”

Her voice cracked over the words painfully, but she still yelled back at him in kind. “I don’t know. It’s all fucked up and I don’t understand it. So there isn’t an us. There isn’t anything.”

“God,” he muttered, dragging at his hair, he took half a step away before turning back to her, stepping closer than before. “I love you,” he proclaimed suddenly, his eyes serious even if his voice was shaking in rage. “I love you and as weird as it is you’re stupid enough to feel something for me too so don’t even bother saying you don’t.”

Feeling the tears prick her eyes, Keely shook her head, raising her hands to her head. “You don’t love me.”

“Who are you to say that I don’t?”

“Because I know you and you’ve never loved anything and you certainly don’t love me.”

Growling in frustration, Seth grabbed her hands, dragging them away so they weren’t blocking her face anymore. “Keely,” he began, the sound of her real name coming from him had her pausing. It was almost odd, but in a good way. “I love you.”

Shaking her head, she bit down on her lip, a tear finally escaping and running down her cheek. “Why are you saying this now?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” he countered.

“Because if you ever loved me, you’ve lost me already and you don’t anymore. I’m not me. I don’t have a voice. If you ever loved anything about me, it was the music, because you hated me at the beginning until we started working together. I don’t have my voice and that’s all I am with you. A voice. I can’t go back to New York without it. I can’t be anywhere near you without it.”

“Why are you doing this?” he questioned, his voice strained.

Another tear fell and all the sudden they were falling down her cheeks in streams. The look on his face made her chest ache dreadfully, his expression desperate as she stared down at her with imploringly eyes.

“Because I’m a fucking mess right now and there’s nothing you can do to fix it,” she told him, her voice barely coming out in the gasps between tears. “I’m going home.” Pulling herself out of his grip, she spun around.

Before she could walk away, he grabbed her arm.

Closing her eyes, Keely stared down at the ground. “Let me go,” she whispered, her voice coming out chocked over the tears and battered throat.

“No.”

“You’re hurting me,” she murmured, her voice breaking.

And just that easily he dropped her arm.

Hurrying away, she wiped the tears off her face as she headed in the opposite direction unhindered, but she couldn’t stem them.

Only an hour later, she was taking her seat by the window in the plane leaving in the middle of the night. The tears hadn’t stopped, and she was getting odd looks from the passengers and flight attendants. She’d already been asked multiple times if there was anything they could do, but every time she just shook her head mutely.

Finally after the attendant finished her speech about flight safety all while sending her alarmed looks, the plane begin to move.

Resting her head against the window, she gathered her legs up to her, wrapping her arms tightly about herself as if to hold herself in one piece when it felt as if she might shatter to a thousand parts. As the silent tears flooded down her face, she couldn’t help but be reminded of a song she’d quoted to him in New York back when the year had been new, it was months ago, but felt like years.

Where do we go from here, the words are coming out all weird. Using her sleeve, she wiped her face again. “I wish it was the sixties, I wish we could be happy,” Keely muttered in her broken rasp.

- It's been so long since I posted two chapters in two days. I feel proud. Maybe it's because these chapters are much shorter than I usually write. I actually would have posted this last night, but the internet was down. I swear I tried my hardest to fix it, I was at the wires that attach to those boxes for like ever. But I'm computer stupid so yeah.

Well. Yeah. Now, I need to repeat a message from last chapter, don't hate me dearies.

I was wondering if this stuff feels sudden to anyone. For me it doesn't, but that's because I've been building up to it since the beginning of the book, I have been hinting from the very beginning but I don't know if I did it clearly. Well, anyways.

Okay.

OH MY GOD

I need to tell you guys this. I was walking through the grocery store today and I stopped to get some starbucks at the kiosk inside Safeway because I happen to be a coffeholic. Anyways I was standing ordering and these girls to the side of me were looking down at the girl's phone and I heard the word Seth so I not so subtly walked around them and peeked at the phone as I was walking past and jwin was on the screen lmao. It's easy to recognize my own writing haha. So motherfucking weird - excuse my language.

Then the girls like glared at me. It was a weird moment, I just blankly stared at them and walked away to get my coffee. When I'm in public I'm usally loud and obnoxious and letting out maniacal laughter to scare my coworkers - you know what I'm talking about Julia - but I was totally off my normal self in that moment. I was made silent. That's not always easy.

Anyways, girls, if you happen to be reading this, stop glaring at random people looking at your cellphone. Ruuuuuuuuuuude.

Are you them?

Gorgeous cover on the side made slimsalvatore, thanks so much! It's amazing :)