“You know you don’t have to come with me,” Keely pointed out.

Joe shrugs, shoving the keys of his car into his pocket. “Its fine, I figured you’d want someone to go with you after the last time.”

Sending him a withering look, she kept her voice aloof as she replied, “I would have been fine.”

Apparently not perturbed in the slightest by her words that happened to be on the rather haughty side, he just sent her an even look before pushing out of the car. Outside he stretched slowly, his muscles flexing beneath the bright sunlight, but she didn’t even notice.

Despite her proud bridging on snooty words from before, Keely didn’t make a move to get out of the car.

No, she just sat immobile in the passenger’s seat, her eyes glued onto high school in front of her. Not since that last disastrous visit had she dared to come back to her old high school, yet here she was, sitting like a coward wishing she could be as far away from here as possible. Yeah, how good of an idea was this?

It was just as bad as before, that panic that was seizing up inside of her. Although now it was different, she wasn’t as scared of falling back into that rut as before, she had her voice and it wouldn’t be easy to fall back now. However, what she was scared of was that open hostility she knew was waiting for her inside. Not only from Haley, but from the rest of the school as well, the only friendly faces she was sure of were Tony and Sadie.

While she wasn’t expecting nor hoping that the school would welcome her back with open arms – firstly because it was the last thing she was wanting – just because she was famous now, she hadn’t been expecting the opposite. They did care that she’d done some things to make her on the front page of gossip magazines, though they didn’t know she didn’t want to be there. However, they didn’t care in a good way; she hadn’t forgotten the cold looks the last time she’d visited.

Oh, why was she doing this again?

Suddenly the door beside her was yanked open, making Keely jolt out of her thoughts as Joe looked down expectantly at her. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” he pointed out, “I’ll take you home.”

For a moment she just stared up at him, her eyes searching his face and couldn’t help what Seth would have been doing at this moment. He wouldn’t have gotten out of the car, he would be sitting beside her with those golden hazel eyes locked on her so tightly that she could imagine she was the only person in the world with him, and he’d tell her that she had to do this, that she couldn’t run away from things.

Grimacing, Keely shook her head, removing all thoughts of Seth from her head. “No, I have to do this, I promised Mr Summers,” she returned.

With a sigh and an almost foreboding expression, Joe simply held out his hand for her.

Sending him the first grateful smile of the day, Keely took the hand he offered, allowing him to pull her out of the chair. Trying to translate her thanks for the support without speaking since she had the irony of not being able to put her emotions into words with these people, she simply squeezed his hand tightly.

However he didn’t seem to understand the point she was trying to make, because Joseph didn’t respond in any other way than slamming the door of the car behind her.

Gritting her teeth to stop her from sighing, she dropped his hand turning around to the entrance of the school.

In what was becoming to seem like an everyday occurrence since she’d come home to this little town, she felt like the air was knocked out of her body, the breath escaping through her lips as she froze in spot.

Haley was standing beside her car, her keys forgotten as she held them absently in her hand with her gorgeous blonde hair loose around her pretty face while she stared at them. It wasn’t a nice stare, it was yet another look that Keely was sure she wouldn’t be able to understand without professional help, and even from the distance between them Keely could see the hostile muscles jumping in her cheek.

Ignoring that sick feeling in her stomach that came from someone she loved looking at her like that, she stared back at Haley boldly, straightening the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

In response the other girl’s eyes sharpened on her in a glare, an expression that was easily to discern although it didn’t make her feel any better while Haley spun around, fiddling with her key to unlock her door.

Exhaling gloomily, Keely too turned about, heading in the opposite direction, not bothering to wait for Joe.

However close to the front entrance of the school, she had the strangest sensation that someone was watching her, but when she looked back she found no one in particular with their eyes fixed on her. Sure, she was gaining glances from people for obvious reasons but no one was blatantly staring at her while Joe was following silently behind, his eyes on the ground with a shamefaced expression.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked, making her jump again.

Blinking at him, she rubbed a hand over her forehead, hoping to clear her thoughts into a more sane line. “Uh, nothing, sorry,” she mumbled, turning straight forward and pushing in through the doors.

Even though she’d repeatedly told Joseph that he didn’t have to accompany her on this trip, Keely hadn’t exactly been insulted that he’d forced his presence on her. In fact, she’d been more than a little relieved. She’d thought with him beside her, it would be so much easier to go through the hallways of this place. But she couldn’t even notice the difference; her eyes were still glued to the ground, scared to look anyone in the eye, her heart was thumping too fast in fear and her throat felt claustrophobically constricted.

No, Joe wasn’t helping in the least.

But even though she would have really liked to turn around and walk straight back out the other way, maybe not even stop until she got home, she refused to do that. It wasn’t because of her pride or curiosity that usually stopped her, but because she felt she owed something much more than she could ever give to this man.

Apparently through the great chain of gossip that went through this school like a vine, attaching itself to everything in sight, Mr Summers had discovered that she was in town. He’d through Tony if she’d like to come down to the school for a visit so they could talk. At the time, she hadn’t even hesitated, telling Tony to tell the teacher she’d be there without a doubt. It hadn’t been until she’d given herself a moment to think about what she was getting herself into that the uncertainty had started.

Seeing the door of the music class room, Keely gave a sigh of relief. If there was ever a place she could be comfortable in this school, it would be right there.

At that thought she gave a loud snort, ignoring Joe’s shocked glance in her direction. She couldn’t help but notice the fact that the only place she could feel comfortable and safe now was a place she never dared to be seen before Maureen had waltzed into her life.

Oh how the tables had turned, almost literally.

It was exactly how she remembered it, a large airy room although there were no windows. The walls were black, but they were papered with posters all for classical musicians, jazz festivals and Broadway, though there was one notable exception. The poster right above that piano that had once been the nicest instrument she’d ever laid hands on, though now she could see the flaws in the old thing, but she would never hail another piano above it.

The poster was in black and white, the very familiar of the cover of her debut album. The sight of it made a smile twitch on the edges of her lips. How many posters and CDs had she signed with that exact picture on it? But it didn’t change a thing, this was different. This was someone at home who was blatantly proud of her and felt no reason to hide it or try to tear her down. He was proud enough to tack up a poster of her holding her electric guitar next to the headshot of no one less than Gioacchino Rossini, though that did make her feel a little bit awkward to be put beside such a brilliant composer of the romantic era.

“Where is he?” interrupted an impatient sounding Joseph from behind her.

This time she didn’t jump at the sound of his voice, what was with him and disrupting her thoughts? “Probably running a minute late,” she replied vaguely, wrapping her arms around herself as she turned in a circle, a welcoming feeling of nostalgia warming in her stomach.

If there was a point she could pinpoint and say that was the moment she took the first real step forward to becoming who she was now, it was her first conversation with Mr Summers in this room. She could even remember the scared feeling that had bloomed in her stomach when he’d started clapping after the piece she’d played on the piano, that familiar rabbit about to hop away and away from sight sensation.

“Didn’t he ask you to meet him here?”

Rolling her eyes at him, Keely just answered vaguely, “Yup.”

Ignoring the fact that Joseph was even there, she stepped forward, running her finger along the edge of the familiar wooden piano.

It reminded her of the piano in the warehouse back in the warehouse, used up but not quite through. There was such a story in old instruments, something not everyone understood. But Seth had always been able to appreciate without her having to explain her feelings about them, and that was something none of her friends or family here would be able to comprehend.

Even when Seth had first given her that old black and white Stratocaster with the paint chipping but perfect sound, Joe had been the one to ask why on earth she’d want an old instrument. There were just some things he’d never be able to fathom, and as sad as it was she was finally coming to terms with it.

Wrapping the plain black cardigan around herself tightly, she sat lightly on the edge of the piano bench, perching carefully in front of the keys.

It felt like so long since she’d been able to sit in front of a piano this way. The last time she’d even been in front of one had been when she and Seth had done the rendition of Elton John’s Your Song, and at that point she hadn’t even been playing, though she hadn’t minded then. Sure, there was a keyboard at all times at the ready during her sets at concerts, but it wasn’t even close to the same thing. And that was something she knew without a doubt she’d never be able to explain to Joe.

Lightly she let her fingers run over the keys, watching them closely. They looked dark next to the perfectly white keys that felt almost like glass beneath her fingers, although felt so sturdy and supportive while it was her fingers which were the actual fragile parts of the picture.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched Joe move closer to the piano, but she steadfastly ignored him altogether as she began to play a few keys in a progression, soon building up to a familiar song she’d learnt to play years ago by a composer by the name of Rosemary Keen. Although maybe she should ask Rosemary Adams if she did it any justice, it’s not like it was hard to get a hold of her anymore.

In fact, Mr Summers would probably love a signed copy of one of her albums, because Keely knew for a fact he had her on vinyl in his collection. After all, this was where she’d first heard of her friend.

However as the composition ended beneath her fingers, she switched into a complete different song, one that she didn’t seem to have control of. It felt as if it was coming straight from her body, her body reminding her heart of something she’d been trying to push far in the back. But maybe it was her heart reminding her body instead.

“Wish I were with you but I couldn’t stay,” she sang out, one boy clear in her head, “Every direction leads me away. Pray for tomorrow but for today. All I want is to be home.

“Stand in the mirror, you look the same. Just looking for shelter from the cold and the pain. Someone to cover, safe from the rain. And all I want is to be home.” Her voice for once sounded exactly the way she asked it to, seeking a smooth sound to go along with the piano, and it did it effortlessly with barely a thought from her.

Her thoughts were much farther away from her voice that was the only sound in the large open room besides her fingers bringing the melody from the piano. They were much farther than her movements. Hell, they weren’t even the same state. They were far away and across the country with a boy with dark hair and broken eyes that she missed like a physical wound pulsing through her heart.

“Echoes and silence, patience and grace. All of these moments, I’ll never replace. No fear of my heart, the absence of faith. And all I want is to be home,” Keely sang lightly, closing her eyes as the emotion welled up in her voice as well as in her eyes. “All I want is to be home.”

There was something about this song, even though it was a brilliant written by someone else, it felt as if it was describing her feelings down to the ones she refused to acknowledge.

“People I’ve loved, I have no regrets. Some I remember, some I forget. Some of them living, some of them dead. And all I want is to be home.”

Letting her hands slip clumsily from the keys, she dragged in a shaky breath, rubbing the tears that were yet to fall from her eyes without a word. There were so many emotions stemming from her that had mixed so perfectly with that song that it felt as if half of herself had gone into playing it, and now it was done, there was a sort of empty feeling in her chest.

“You are home,” whispered Joe from in front of her.

Instantly the almost hysterical cackle broke from her lips and she rubbed her hands over her eyes. “Not the right one,” she responded with a sad smirk she forced on her lips as she looked over at him.

However her attention instantly snapped over his shoulder when she heard clapping from the doorway.

That forced little smirk melted into shock and all the way to a blinding smile as she saw the music teacher she’d never been taught by until those weeks before she’d left for New York City. He looked the exact way she remembered, thin flyaway hair with a bald spot, little glasses, a button up shirt that was strained slightly around his growing stomach and was tucked into the waistbands of his slacks.

He looked more like a math professor than anything else, it wouldn’t be surprising if he pulled a calculator out of the pocket of the cleanly pressed slacks, no one would have thought a musician who had been signed and produced. Though she’d found out back before she’d left that he’d been on just an indie label, his music revolving more around soft acoustics.

But it was definitely Mr Summers.

With that broad smile on her face, she shoved up from the piano bench. “Why does this feel like déjà vu?”

“You don’t seem as jumpy as before,” he returned with a twinkling smile.

With a laugh, she didn’t even hesitate as she threw her arms around the man who was barely taller than her and he returned the pressure of the hug.

It didn’t feel weird; she wasn’t and never had been his student in school. Yet he was the closest thing besides Seth that she’d ever had to a music teacher, she’d taught herself mostly growing up. It just felt comforting, like hugging her father.

“Any talented students coming up through here?” she asked, pulling away from the embrace.

Mr Summers returned the smile, and replied, “Not since you.”

“I don’t count,” Keely returned, “So nothing exciting happened while I was away? How did you survive?”

He opened his mouth to retort, but a blatantly fake coughing sounded from behind them, making the teacher cut off abruptly and look at the other soul in the room with them. “Oh yeah,” Keely started, waving a hand behind her without a glance. “This is my friend Joseph, moral support and all.”

“Hi Joseph,” he greeted with a friendly smile that he reserved for every student in the school.

In a stiff voice, Joe countered, “Hello.”

Not even bothering to resist the urge to roll her eyes, Keely shoved a hand in the front pocket of jean shorts. Well, if he was going to be like that. “Joe, do you want to go get coffee, please?” she questioned, turning around to him with pleading eyes. “I feel like I’m detoxing.”

For a moment her friend just regarded her flatly, but mutely he nodded before he headed out of the doors.

“So why did you ask me to come here?” Keely asked, focusing back on the teacher.

He shrugged, gesturing for her to take a seat on one of those incredibly uncomfortable navy plastic chairs. “I think I could ask you here for no other reason than I wanted to catch up with my most successful student.”

“You could,” she reasoned, taking up a seat across from him. “But I’m willing to bet that you didn’t.”

He sent her a pleased smile. “Well, if I get this out of the way, later will you talk to me about the music and your album? I swear, you had this raw talented when you left. But there’s something that became so much sophisticated in your playing and singing, like you had years more of experience than you left.”

A soft inward smile graced her mouth. “That has something to do with another person, but, yes, I’ll tell you about making the album.”

“Good,” he declared, clapping his hands together. “Then let’s just get this bit out of the way. I wanted to ask you if you’d come into school for a class or two and play for the students? Well, not just play, but talk to them about music as well.”

Instantaneously a wary expression graced her face. “I don’t know,” Keely replied slowly. “I mean, I don’t think they’d even show up. They’re not really into speaking to me, let alone listening to me.”

He shook his head resolutely, not believing a word that came from her mouth. “Nonsense, they’d gain so much from listening and just talking to you. You’re the most talented student I’ve ever taught, even if it was for such a short period, and your learning curve is exponential from where you are from when you left here. I’d be very grateful if you’d do this.”

For another moment she hesitated, but with that beseeching look on his face as she looked at him, she found she couldn’t refuse. Hadn’t she said before that she owed him more than she could say? “Fine,” she sighed, looking away from his gaze.

Later that night, Keely found herself sitting on the couch in the living room, the house silent around her.

Well, the house was silent, but her record player definitely wasn’t. Although it was at a normal easy listening volume, which was on the odd side for her, however she had a reason for that. If she turned up too loud, it would drown out the world for her, that was something she loved about music, but for now she needed to be able to think.

Tom Waits’ growling voice provided the perfect fodder for thought in an atmosphere of her curled up on the corner of the couch with her guitar at her feet, and the summer sun finally setting outside of the window, making the room darker by the moment.

Her mind was all over the place. At points she was terrified, who was she to think about playing in front of these people? They were going to think that she believed she was better than them, and eat her alive. Then at other moments, she was so excited to play in front of them again, play in front of any kind of crowd again so she could prove every single person that said she couldn’t sing wrong.

For moments she would find herself already making up a set list, songs off her album, ones that hadn’t made the cut and some covers all mixed together and punctuated by topics about song writing and touring. And then she would be reminded of the open hostility those people treated her with, and that fear would hit her like a freight train.

“What is this?”

Chewing on her fingernail, Keely’s eyes didn’t as much as flicker at the sound of her father’s voice. “Tom Waits,” she supplied evenly. “As much as I love that gravel sound of his voice, it takes people a couple minutes to get used to him let alone recognize his brilliance.”

Her father made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat before edging around her couch and falling into the arm chair with a groan.

Blinking, she focused on him, recognizing the signs of sheer tiredness. He’d stayed late at work again, that much she had figured from being alone the moment she got back from the school with Joseph. There was a dusting of dirt across his darkly tanned skin and the worn in work jeans he was wearing along with the Seattle Seahawks shirt he had on which had a rather obvious tear in the armpit.

“How was work?” she questioned, leaning over the arm of the couch so she could pull the lever up on the record player, silencing Waits.

He blew out a long tired breath, rubbing his temples as he slouched back in the seat. The whole thing made Keely want to smile despite everything; she could remember being in the same position more than a few times after a particularly hard show.

“It was work,” he answered fairly.

Agreeably Keely just gave a little shrug, leaning back.

After a long moment of silence, she eyed him closely with one eyebrow raised. “You’re getting the chair dirty.”

Without saying a word in response, he just gave a short laugh that made her lips twitch up into a smile.

Not knowing what else to say and not needing to since the silence had fallen into a comfortable one, there was no need to speak and she found she liked that. There were very few people that she could sit in nothing but quiet and actually feel relaxed with, she’d never thought that her father was one of those people.

Letting her thoughts spin back around to the little high school show she’d agreed to, Keely found she thought better with music and reached out, grabbing the acoustic guitar tightly. Strumming chords in no specific order or tune as she allowed her thoughts to wander all the way back to that place.

What was she thinking, agreeing to that? It scared her to simply be near the place, and she had just said alright to go back there for a class.

It was going to be her first music class ever. One that she was almost teaching after she’d graduated high school and put out a debut album that had gone gold. This felt like a weird way to go full circle.

Would anyone even bother to show up? She’d always had fans at her shows, she’d never known how it felt to have no one like or care about her when she played a song in front of people before. Because when she’d played that first show at her going away party, sure some of the crowd hadn’t been exactly routing for her, but more than fifty percent had been on her side. But now that hostility, she didn’t know how she was going to deal with it.

All she was going to have was herself, and though she prided herself on her independence, she truly wanted someone else to be with her. Joe had already agreed to be some sort of a roadie – though she didn’t think he truly understood the extent and responsibility of that job, how she missed all the guys that worked with them on tour – on this sort of performance, but he’d been of no help that day, so how could she expect him to make a difference the next time they went? She just didn’t want to go through it alone, but she doubted any of her friends were going to make her feel less isolated.

Not to mention that the class was the day before her concert in Seattle, it felt like she was playing with fire. In reality, she knew that the two things would barely affect her voice. She did have a rather strong one now that it was firmly back, it had been the strain of that crazy tour paired with the notes she dared to hit while in concert and shouting that had finally taken her down.

But there was still that part of her that was scared to overuse it, especially since it was just back. It seemed dangerous despite everything she knew.

“You know your mom used to do that,” her father observed, breaking through her thoughts.

“Hm?” she questioned vaguely, surfacing slowly. Even though her eyes had been opened, they’d been glazed, meaning she hadn’t been truly seeing anything in front of her while she’d been deep in thought.

Blinking, she found her father looking at her with that crinkle between his brows that the two of them shared when they were deep in thought. He still looked a tired, the skin around his eyes drooping, but he was still observing her closely with his chin propped open his open palm. “When she was really deeply thinking,” he explained, “She’d get so lost in it she wouldn’t see anything else, just sit there biting her lip and make me wonder what was going through her head.”

Halting her playing, Keely felt her heart begin to race in her chest as she realized the enormity of what was starting between them, but she forced her voice to come out calmly even though her throat felt tight. “You’re saying I’m just like her,” she returned. She’d meant it to be phrased like a question, but it came out as a statement.

His eyes not looking away from her, that thoughtful looked morphed into one with a frown as he shook his head slightly. “No, not at all actually.”

Mirroring his expression in a true show of the family resemblance between them, Keely asked blankly, “What?”

“Well, you are,” he reasoned, “The way you said just that one word, I swear it could’ve been her saying it and I wouldn’t have known the difference. But even the way you hold her guitar is different, she used to hold it like an instrument, which it is, but when you do it, it’s like it’s just you; there’s no separation. Make any sense?”

Biting down on her bottom lip, she nodded slowly, running a hand through her hair and mussing it even further.

“Even that, she was paranoid about her hair, there was never a hair out of place and she always kept a brush in her purse with her, wherever she went.”

Silently Keely stared back at her father, watching the way his eyes seemed have to gone inwards and his words seemed more pensive. For a moment she couldn’t help but wonder if he knew he was consciously telling her or just speaking about the woman he’d loved for so long.

Although she knew her mom wasn’t a drug user, well, at least she thought the woman wasn’t, there was so much she didn’t know about Brooke, but she was reminded of Neil Young’s The Needle and the Damage Done so clearly. ‘I’ve seen the needle and the damage done. A little part of it in everyone.’ Just the imagery of everything her father had been through being the damage done.

Watching him silently, Keely couldn’t help but wonder what he was feeling. A part of him was probably relieved to talk about her for the first time in years, he loved her and hadn’t let go yet there was not one person he allowed himself to talk to. However, the other part of him must have been in such pain. She knew that talking about Seth would be painful for her, and he was still alive, just across the country. The thought of him not being in this world with her, never for her to talk to or see again was something that felt like physical pain for her. It was impossible to even imagine what it was like for her father to talk about Brooke.

However, no matter how much pain he was going through, she didn’t want to stop him from talking. He had to do it, and she had to hear it. Was that incredible selfish?

“And she was one of the most selfish people I knew,” he said, making Keely blink. Could he know what she’d been thinking? “She was beautiful, loving and kind, but, man, was she selfish. You’re not like her in that way, not even close. And she was so perceptive about things, like she could read what you were thinking right off your face with barely a second. You? Not so lucky.”

Pursing her lips, Keely asked, “I’m really that oblivious?”

“You have no idea, kid,” he answered as he chuckled, rubbing his forehead with his palm as if coming out of a trance.

Sending him a little smile, she gathered her courage tightly inside of her before questioning him further. “You said she was selfish, but she was loving and kind? What does that even mean?”

Letting out a deep breath, he just looked Keely in the eye, an almost bitter sweet expression that she could understand. “She loved you, more than anything. But I remember this one time, we’d been saving up to get you piano classes from this guy in town, but she took the money to buy herself a new guitar. Little things, but sometimes little things mean the most; do you know what I mean?”

“Which guitar was it?” she questioned, a frown gracing her mouth.

He sent a nod towards the guitar she still held on her crossed legs. “Seems more like yours than it ever was hers anyways, kind of comes in a circle, I guess.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Keely stared down at it for a moment, absorbing what he was saying and committing it closely to memory. But, as much as she wanted to question him about every aspect of Brooke, there was something she needed to ask, because if she didn’t ask it now, she was afraid she’d never find another moment to do so or be brave enough to do it.

“Why?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly on the one word as she looked up at him, her eyes stinging slightly. “Why did you lie about so much to me? Didn’t you think I deserved to know? I deserved to know that my grandparents didn’t hate me, that my mom wasn’t this perfect woman, that she did things to hurt you and me. I deserved to know everything you’re finally telling me years ago.”

His gaze dropped away, refusing to meet her eyes. He shifted in his seat, slumping over and rubbing his hands wearily over his face. “I thought it would be better that way.”

Unable to help herself, she didn’t think of the cruelty of her words when she snapped, “Better for me or for you?”

The quietness of his next words had her stomach sinking with guilt, hearing the exhaustion that the words were soaked in. “For both of us. I didn’t want you to know that a part of me hated her, that she would have left you, that you reminded me so much of her. I thought it would be better to get away from her completely.”

“You shouldn’t have cut my grandparents out of my life,” she whispered.

Raising his head from his hands, he kept his eyes closed as he nodded. “That was wrong, I’ll admit to that. But you need to realize, I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want you to be a part of what she was, but every time I looked at you, all I saw was her. You were so much like her.”

Hauling in shaky breaths, Keely fixed him with a bewildered look, gathering her strength tightly to talk. “You just said I wasn’t.”

“It took you doing the same thing as Brooke did to make me realize how different you two were.”

Her look became bland as she stated, “That makes no sense.”

Shaking his head, his eyes finally opened. “It makes all the sense in the world, Keely. I did so much to stop you from being her, but there you were, you turned exactly the way I didn’t want you to and you took off. But it’s strange. When she came home, she was exactly the same; you’re a completely different person in ways. I can’t explain it.”

“Don’t try,” Keely replied, her voice soft in the room that had gone completely dark with the sun setting. “I think I understand, maybe.”

Meeting her eyes again, he began to speak. “I need out to understand one thing completely though. I love you, and I don’t want you to doubt it even though I haven’t gone about the fatherly love thing right, I’m not really good at all of that. And I am proud of you, more than you’ll ever be able to understand. And I know you’re like her, but you’re nothing like her at the same time.”

Feeling the tears well up in her eyes, Keely smiled at him, but refused to let a tear to fall. Unsure how to respond, she drew in shaky breaths before asking something completely off kilter. “What was her favorite song?”

Surprised, her father just blinked at her, but answered all the same, “Yesterday by The Beatles. Why?”

Not bothering to answer, she nodded before looking down at her guitar steadily, unsure if she’d be able to start playing the song while she was looking at him. The chords felt a bit shaky, and she had to swallow the lump in her throat, but she still managed to get the words out as she began to sing with the McCartney written classic. “Yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they’re here to stay. Oh, I believe in yesterday.”

As she sang it, Keely kept herself bent over the guitar, squeezing her eyes shut so no tears fell. A small part of her, far in the back of her mind, couldn’t help but think of an interview she’d seen where Paul had said he believed after so many years that the song could’ve been written about the death of his mother.

It was odd to say the least.

“Suddenly, I’m not half the man I used to be. There’s a shadow hanging over me. Oh, yesterday came suddenly.” And she couldn’t help but feel the honestly of the words ringing true through the words, even if she was a woman not a man and half the woman she was would have only been nine years old. “Why she had to go. I don’t know, she wouldn’t say. I said something wrong. Now I long for yesterday.”

But when she started to sing the next verse, Keely couldn’t help but realize the song she’d started singing for her mother had started to morph into a song about someone else entirely. “Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play. Now I need a place to hide away. Oh, I believe in yesterday.”

Why did all her music and thoughts circle back around to Seth? However the lyrics felt so true as they left her mouth, her voice a little rough with the tears, but soft all the same. She was hiding away, hiding from him. She was hiding in this town now; her voice was fully recovered by now, but so terrified of love and him that she didn’t dare leave.

Finishing the final chorus and reprise verse, Keely felt a tear escape her clutches, tracing her cheek.

Her breath came out in a trembling gasp as she quickly wiped the tear away, but where she got rid of one, the others multiplied as it was followed by another two tears that were quick to fall down her cheeks.

Even in her state, Keely heard the squeak of the armchair, but she didn’t dare to look up as she wiped the tears away that were quickly becoming a stream.

Without a word, her father quickly took up the seat beside her, picking the guitar up from her lap and moving aside before pulling her into a hug. The embrace was a bit too tight, and he smelt of sweat and wood, but Keely didn’t mind as she quickly returned the pressure, thankful for it though she’d never be able to put it into words.

One of his arms remained holding her tight while the other rubbed her back comforting, Keely gasping in her tears against his solid chest, trying desperately to stop the sobbing, but failing miserably. “This isn’t about your mother, is it?” he asked, his voice sounding tight as he pressed a fatherly kiss against the top of her head.

Multiple times Keely opened her mouth in order to tell him no, but every time it just ended with her gasping pathetically against his chest, unable to form words. In the end, she gave in and just shook her head, burying her face against him.

“I was worried about that,” he replied. “It’s that guy I always read about, isn’t it?”

Still not being able to speak, she nodded.

There was another moment of silence, broken up only by her sobs muffled against him that were finally beginning to slow.

Pressing another kiss to the top of her head, her dad drew her in tighter against him, rocking her back and forth slightly. For the first time in what felt like forever, Keely felt like a child. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Even though her words came out in a rush that was almost illegible, with the tendency to be broken up by her gasping in breaths against the tears that were still falling, she finally managed to speak.

“I’m just so scared,” she told him, “Of everything. Nothing makes sense. I feel like I’m eighty years old instead of eighteen, I just want to be a kid again.”

Wordlessly, her father just kept hugging her. 

- Not as long, but meh. I don't feel good about the scene about her mom, I mean, I've built so much to that part, so much of the story led to it. And it just seems to fall flat.

Anyways, this chapter is dedicated to Ninja_kitty because it seemed unfair to only dedicate to one sister.

Cover on the side made by GreekWildLife.

And to those who are still messaging me about Jared, guys we broke up months ago. I'm not getting mad, I mean it's no one's fault, the only person who knows on wattpad is J. So yeah, just maybe, stop?

Home by the Foo Fighters is the video on the side and Yesterday from The Beatles is in the external link.