Band On The Run

Love Interruption

I didn't dare open my eyes, hoping that the people surrounding me would put it down to trying to focus. And I should've been, focusing that is. I'd fucked up this song more times than I could count already. Yet my mind couldn't put everything else aside to allow me to sink into the song that was so familiar I should've been able to sing it in my sleep.

It wasn't the song that had my heart pulsing against the sensitive skin of my throat. There was no excitement in the rapid beating, just plain nerves.

Not the type I would get before a show, but the type where your body feels as if it's getting ready to go into survival mode. It was like my body knew I was putting it into a dire situation, and honestly it wasn't far off.

Because I couldn't look at him during this song, I could barely look at him anyways.

With a throat so harshly coiled I thought it was difficult to breathe through, I leaned fractionally forwards into the mic to sing, "We got married in a fever –"

Instantly I knew it was no good. The first note had only just left my lips and I'd given up, my voice so tight that it came out brittle where it should've been bold. The dejected pull of my shoulders let everyone know I was aware, but I'd known that wouldn't be enough. It had to be broadcasted through the room.

"Jesus Christ," Seth snapped before I'd finished singing, abruptly stopping his acoustic and the rest of the band stuttered to a stop behind us. "Are we boring or something, Staub?"

I was finding it almost impossible to look at him these days, even when we weren't supposed to be sharing vocals on the June Carter and Johnny Cash classis. I'd thought it would get easier the more frustrated he got with me, but it only helped fractionally. However I knew things would only get worse if I refused to open my eyes.

So with a deep breath, I let them fall open to look at Seth. I felt like the look must've been exhausted through my hooded eyes, because it gave him a pause on the other side of the microphone stand. He'd been on a tear today, convinced that I didn't know how to carry a note anywhere, and it seemed like the nastier he became, the worse I began to perform. He hadn't even bothered to harmonize with me the last time.

However the pause didn't last long before his expression hardened. "What do we have to do? You're either so pitchy we can't bare to listen to you or you can barely choke the words out, like you're waiting for someone to tell you that it's okay for you to sing."

Gathering a breath, I just stared at him for a beat. I could've said a lot to that. I could've told him that his voice sounded two cigarettes away from rotting off the face of the earth. I could've said that his finger work was sloppy. I could've told him that maybe if someone wasn't snapping at me every two seconds about how terrible I was at my job, I might be able to get into the music without the constant stops.

However I just looked at him, and said in a tired voice, "I don't what's going on with me today."

"It's not just today," he retorted nastily.

That was true, as much as I wished it wasn't. Not sure how I could answer that, I just shoved a hand through my hair, pushing it away from my forehead. I felt too hot.

"Give her a break, Seth," Will piped up from behind us. I closed my eyes at the sound of his voice, but didn't feel any relief at his defensive tone. "You need to breathe instead of jumping down her throat for a second. She's still getting back into things."

"Then what's your excuse?" Seth spun around to face Will, gripping onto the neck of his guitar so tightly I thought he might break it.

As Will went to stand up from behind his drum kit, I realized just how familiar it all was.

"It's fine, it's my fault," I said quickly with a beseeching look towards Will. He paused, glancing between Seth and I. "I can't get it together right now."

"Then why don't you fucking figure out why already?"

My eyes snapped towards Seth, and I still didn't find myself ready or eager to bite back at him. Instead I felt exhausted. It wasn't that I couldn't be bothered, it was just that every time I looked at him I remembered him looking numb as he said 'Okay' to me in the change room. And I couldn't find it in myself to be quite as cruel back at him.

Thankfully it was Jake that headed it off this time as Will shot out from behind his drum kit. "Okay," he said calmly. "Maybe it's time to call it quits today; we're clearly not getting anywhere."

The way Seth put his guitar down was just shy of throwing it, and I found myself wincing as if it had been directed at me.

Despite Jake doing his best to diffuse the ticking bomb in the room, it was suffocating. It was like I could feel the tension bouncing back off the glass and brick, pushing back into us. I could feel it pressing against my chest, and I suddenly felt claustrophobic. It had been a long time since I'd felt like this in a studio. They were always the places I felt most comfortable – Seth had taught me years ago just how much of an escape these places could be when you were working on music, because the whole world was just the inside of the room.

Yet suddenly the fact that the whole world was just this room was overwhelming. Because I didn't want my whole world to feel like a powder keg that I was trying to hold the match away from, I'd spent far too long feeling like that towards the end of The Spares. Not bothering to say another word, I spun away from the boys and pushed through the glass doors as quickly as possible.

Even though it was just symbolic, I felt like I could breathe properly again once inside the warehouse.

It was only a brief moment of respite though, because the door was shoved open right behind me. It was Seth who pushed through. I knew instantly, mostly from the way he was so careful not to touch me despite the black mood radiating off of him.

Unlike before when we'd been rehearsing, I knew Seth wouldn't look at me unless forced, and my eyes followed him. I had a bracing hand pressed against sound board. The hair at the back of his head was in complete disarray, and he stalked right to the couch where he'd tossed his jacket earlier while we'd been discussing what song to play on the talk show later this week.

Apparently he couldn't stand to be here another moment either.

As he was shrugging the jacket on, back to me, the door opened again for Jake and Will to trail after us.

"What are you doing?" asked Jake, his voice coming out far sharper than it had been in the studio. Maybe I wasn't the only one thinking about how many times I'd watched Seth walk out of here without a backwards glance. "We still need to make up a schedule for the next two weeks."

True to my thoughts, Seth didn't look back at the words, just ran a hair through his hair as Will came to stand next to me. Our shoulders knocked together as Seth said, "I think you can figure it out without me."

"No, we can't," Jake snapped, "That's the point of us all doing it together."

For a second I thought Seth might just walk out, but instead he spared a short glance over his shoulder, eyes flicking between the three of us. "Keely had the last month off, I'm sure she'll be happy to make up for it."

"Yeah, because you got her head bashed in."

That tension from inside the studio had leaked out with us, filling up the space and pressing down upon my chest. This time I did speak up. "It's okay, Jake," I said, my voice almost too quiet for the size of the room, but I was sure they all heard me. "I'll do it."

Maybe that's what Seth had been waiting for. The words were barely out my mouth before he was walking out of the door, it letting a squeal as he walked into the rain that was pouring down outside. No goodbye and my eyes traced his every movement until the door slammed heavily and the silence settled upon us.

There was only a breath of calm before the others were turning onto me, in a way that was so familiar I was instantly filled with dread.

Will and Jake shared a look before focusing back on me, and there expressions were flat. There was no warmth there, just a hint of weariness behind both their looks. And there were no pleasantries before Will asked bluntly, "What's going on with you two?"

"Nothing," I answered with a shrug.

Oddly they didn't believe me, sending me equally unamused looks.

"After everything, don't bullshit us, Keely," said Will with a hint of warning.

That wasn't the right thing to say to me, because my eyes flashed as I sent him a dark look. "Just leave it alone," I said flatly, "It's none of your fucking business."

*

"What time do you have to be in rehearsals?" I asked, my breath materializing in front of my mouth in a light grey mist. My fingers were freezing where they were wrapped around the empty travel mug, like it might somehow retain some heat.

Before he answered, Nick carefully pulled the sleeves of my baggy hoodie up around my fingers, despite the fact I refused to let go of the mug. It was the promise of a good warm cup of coffee and I wasn't letting go of it. The coffee mug was a lifeline of sorts. Like he knew the thoughts going through my mind, Nick rolled his eyes and let go, but not before making sure my finger tips were covered by the cotton. I was going for quite the look with the grey fabric beneath the ancient black leather jacket and a beanie stuffed over my ears, but I didn't care.

A New York January was nothing to be scoffed at.

Going back to the question I'd asked moments before, Nick pulled out his cellphone with his gloved hands. Having been preoccupied with the device, he almost crashed straight into a person walking briskly in the opposite direction. Nick said a hurried sorry, even though the person hadn't bothered to pause.

"I need to be there in like five minutes," Nick finally answered me, tucking his phone back into his jeans.

The look he sent me was quite pointed, and I just pulled an appropriately apologetic look in his direction. There was no point apologizing aloud again. The plan had been to get out of the apartment by ten, giving us plenty of time to get coffee and a quick breakfast together before we went our opposite ways.

We'd spent so long stuffed into the studio space together, all those days together with other members of the band. It was almost shocking to spend our days apart. We'd fallen so easily into every day together when I'd got back from Europe, not to mention the time after the car accident where we'd been near inseparable until the very end, and then it was only a couple hours apart. So we were carving out a space of time in the day to spend together, because with them prepping for the promo of an album release and rehearsal with everything I had on my plate, it didn't leave much time in the day.

However I'd been up late the night before writing, taking advantage of the fact I could now write by myself on the guitar and not have to rely on other people to hear my music played back to me. That had made me almost impossible to wake up this morning, and Nick had felt too guilty to really push the matter. When I did finally manage to get up, I had to shower since I hadn't bothered after the gig – he already had the sheets in the wash.

So we hadn't actually left the apartment until closer to eleven.

Thankfully the crowd of paparazzi in front of the apartment had died off quickly once I started to make every day appearances. Apparently the mulish looks I sent them and refusal to answer any questions didn't make for exciting reporting, because they'd headed off quite quickly. It allowed us to walk down the street to the coffee shop we liked a few blocks over, getting a few breaths of brisk air that weren't inside a stuffy studio.

"They were all usually late to get to the studio," I pointed out, "So fuck them. You can be late."

That was enough to get Nick to let out a surprised bark of a laugh.

"I'll let Ben know those are your thoughts," he said, a bit of a teasing twinkle in his eyes.

So I just rolled my own. "Ben already knows my thoughts on almost all matters by now," I answered, "We've gone drinking enough together. Anyways, I'm sure he reply in kind."

Nick's expression was appropriately considering, but he didn't bother answering, instead opting to pull open the door of the coffee shop so I could walk in before him. There was a charming tinkle of a bell.

The line was a bit longer than usual, so we queued up accordingly, talking lightly about the songs they were going to be working on today. They wanted to pull a few b-sides out from their back catalogue to have in their back pockets during the upcoming tour. It was Ben's idea and shockingly I agreed whole heartedly. It was always nice to pull out an old track to see the crowds' shocked faces.

We fell into a companionable silence as we edged closer to the till. However my comfort was short lived, because the closer we got to the brick made counter the easier it was to read the headlines on the magazines they propped on stands.

Instantly a tension started in my shoulders, tightening up all my muscles from there and even making my wrist give a worrying twinge. Only one of the one of the magazines didn't have a picture of me on it, just a picture of some pretty blonde actress and some headline that I didn't bother to read because it wasn't about me. Maybe I was the narcissist now.

There were pictures from the car crash pasted across some of them, firefighters pulling me from the car with Seth right there. It was a blurry picture, obviously taken off a cell phone. The headline blasted across the top reading: 'What Really Happened'. Then there was another with closer up shots as I was being attended to by paramedics and Seth's panicky face still in them shots where they'd written 'The Truth Behind The Crash' above. It had been over a month and it was still front page news.

Then there were the magazines that still had photos of my tear stained face and red swollen eyes plastered across their covers. I purposefully looked away from those, though, not wanting to read the speculation there. Just in case they got a little too close to the truth.

It was only then that my eyes just happened to fall on Nick, and saw him looking at me expectantly. "Keely?" he asked, his brow furrowing on the question as he gave a discreet nod. I followed his gaze to find the regular young man behind the counter looking at me worriedly. It had me blinking before it occurred what was actually happening.

"Oh, sorry, can I get an Americano and, uh," I stalled, my thoughts confused over my usual order as I handed over the travel mug. I didn't realize I'd been gripping it so tightly until my joints felt like ice when I pried them off.

"Do you want a bagel?" Nick pressed softly.

Without thinking, I just nodded dumbly.

Nick sent me a concerned look, but he edged forwards, hand cupping my elbow before ordering us both bagels and a latte for himself. I had let out a relieved breath when the boy behind the counter switched his gaze to Nick, feeling the pressure drift off. My thoughts had been far too caught up. Still I felt like I'd gotten a bit of whiplash from my thoughts being dragged away from car crashes right into just ordering breakfast.

With a gentle push to get me going, Nick steered me towards the other end of the bar, where our coffees would be waiting for us. Thankfully there were no magazines down here.

"Are you alright?" asked Nick lowly. He was very sure to make sure the words were just for me, keeping the words away from the other patrons.

We came to a stop near the wall, standing just apart from the rest of the people waiting for their orders. "I'm fine," I said, voice coming out far more sure this time. Carefully, I leaned my shoulder against the wall, just in case.

That wasn't enough to smooth the frown on Nick's face, though. "You were fine," he countered, "And then you were a million miles away."

"I just got caught in a stare," I told him, which wasn't exactly a lie. I'd been caught in a stare, my imagination taking off at the pictures of the accident, making up for the fact I still couldn't remember any of it.

Unable to stop myself, my eyes were drawn right back down the counter to where the magazines were proudly displayed for sale. Thankfully I couldn't see the covers from here. But right as I looked, I watched a woman pick one of them up, nodding to the boy behind the counter. And I saw a flash of my tear stained face that filled up the cover.

And I couldn't help the lyrics that flashed through my mind. Sometimes I think it's getting better. And then it gets much worse. Is it just part of the process? Well, Jesus Christ, it hurts. Though I know I should know better. Well, I can make this work. Is it just part of the process? Well, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, it hurts. With a little shake of the head, I pulled my gaze away as the woman paid for her order and the magazine and fixed it instead on Nick, hoping to get some comfort there. However I find he'd followed my look, his own eyes narrowed on the woman at the counter.

Just as he went to look back at me, I hurriedly spoke up, not wanting him to get the first words in there. "I'm tired, that's it."

Nick just eyed me closely, quite clearly not believing my words. I wondered if he was trying to decide if it was worth it to get into it in a crowded shop. Yet maybe he did believe me, at least it a little, because he said, "Well, you've doing a ton of publicity with everything else. It seems like a lot, Keel."

I just shook my head, stubborn as ever, and answered, "I just need to get back in the groove."

"Don't you think it's all a bit much?" he asked, a tad cautious. "You seem like you're doing way more than the rest of the boys, and they're not mixing an album and writing their own. Plus you're still playing at least two shows a week."

Before that amount of concern about my well being would have panicked me, and I might've lashed out. The Spares had never been concerned that we were doing too much. Maybe that's why we'd burnt out so fast – no one had told us to take the opportunity to look after ourselves. And here Nick was saying just as naturally as breathing. It was amazing to me that he knew how to look after himself and others instinctively, instead of doing every wrong thing first.

But the month spent at home with him, specifically looking after myself and taking the chance to not burn out for once must've done me good. Instead of snapping at him, I found myself grinning up at him, feeling like myself again.

Still I just shrugged, and said, "I was the one that took a month off."

Seth's words coming from my mouth were alarming.

However Nick distracted me quickly when his frown deepened, and he didn't hesitate to say, "That's not nearly what happened. You know that."

The barista saved me from answering when she called out, "Americano for Keely!"

I was handed my coffee along with the wrapped up toasty bagel, and Nick's order came up right behind mine. Not bothering to say a word, I lead the way back out into the cold air. Most of the time we were trying to sit down and eat together, but my tardiness meant we weren't going to be able to eat breakfast together today.

At the curb, I spun around to face Nick who had followed me out, knowing we were heading in opposite directions. And I took a long gulp of the coffee. I swallowed it with an exaggerated gulp and a satisfied 'ah', before fixing him with a cheeky smile. "I'm sorry, dear, there's no way I can possible live on decaf. Coffee really is my one true love."

Nick let out a loud laugh, not bothered by the people skirting around us to get on with their day. "I honestly don't care if you drink normal coffee, Keel," he informed me, taking a step closer so I had to tip my chin up to look at him properly. "I was just trying to steer you away from those days where you drink so much that you start to shake. Plus the doctor was the one that said to keep your caffeine levels low after the accident."

"And here I was thinking that you were just doing it from the good of your heart," I teased with a little eye roll.

"Never," he said with a grin of his own, "I know better than to get between you and coffee for long. You love it far more than you love me."

As I let out a surprised laugh, Nick swooped down and kissed me lightly before pulling back. "I'll see you at home later? Will has been pestering me to make sure I get you out to his birthday party tonight, so we'll head from there."

I couldn't help the scowl, and said, "Will's birthday isn't until next week so he can calm down."

"I know," Nick smiled down at me, "You've told me a few times already. But he's pretty adamant, and he says you've been no fun lately."

"He just wants an excuse to make sure everyone pays him attention for a full week. It's a birthday, not a whole week. You know, he's always been this dramatic? Loves being the center of everyone's worlds. He's such a diva."

Ignoring the words, Nick just leaned down for another swift kiss. "I'll see you later."

That had me laughing again, and I went in for one last peck, and said, "Okay, bye."

*

It was almost weird being alone in the studio again. With Fly Way having five members, it had felt like there was an endless parade of people coming and going whenever we needed them. For the most part Ben and Nick had always been there, but the others would switch days. I guess it was me who was always here.

I'd put down the final mixes for four of the songs off the album, showed them to the band and their manager along with Robert for approval. Everyone seemed ecstatic with what I was showing to them.

I didn't think they knew how hard work it was, though.

None of them understood because they weren't here.

The recording had gone on so long for this album, and I was constantly pushing them to give me more or better than what they'd given me before. For the most part I'd gotten it from them. I supposed they weren't used to someone expecting excellence from them on every take. I wasn't sure if other producers asked for less from their artists. The only producer I'd ever worked with was Seth, and when he left, I just relied on myself. So my actual experience with producers was very small.

And I had so many takes for each track that I had to sort through. With me always asking for more and getting them to redo take after take, it made for quite a mess later when I hadn't labelled everything properly. Either taking that time to congratulate or reprimand, not taking it to write down a note for myself for later.

That was all fine, but it was making searching for each instrumental and vocal track almost mind numbing. I'd heard so many bland guitar tracks from Ben that I thought my ears were going to start protesting. Yet I supposed it was satisfying as well. When I got everything lined up and had fiddled around on my board, and finally got to listen to a track that sounded the way I always thought they could sound, it was like hitting gold. A smile would spread across my face, and I'd feel warmth start to spread. It was a reassurance that I knew what I was doing.

Surprisingly I was starting to feel lonely down in the basement, though. The sensation was so odd, because I'd gotten so comfortable being by myself in the studio before this. I supposed I'd gotten used to having someone I loved back in here with me, and it was jarring to find myself alone again.

Right after The Spares had broken up and I went in to record my next solo album, it had been hard. I'd never been in the studio alone before that. But I hadn't wanted anyone around me then. I'd revelled in having that freedom and the loneliness; it had only inspired the album that was to come. I probably would've bit anyone's head off that dared walk in.

I'd never really been by myself in a studio before that, always having Seth there, who had been my mentor whether I wanted to admit it or not.

Listening to an acoustic track Ben had laid down, I stared down at the knobs across the board, not even realizing I was falling into a memory until I was already lost inside of it.

There was a warm feeling in the middle of my chest.

It felt like the sun was in there, squeezed in between my ribs, barely contained like they might just crack apart and the light would come flooding out. The half smile on my mouth was starting to feel permanent.

I couldn't remember ever feeling anything close like this with Tony – maybe it was because I was only just learning what an orgasm was for me. Poor Sadie. Or maybe in a way less insulting to my ex-boyfriend, this was just the way it felt in the afterglow when you were actually in love. Maybe it was both.

In response to the thoughts lazily rolling around in my mind, I pulled my cheek off Seth's still sweaty chest, and bit down lightly.

That was enough to jolt Seth up from where he'd already been drifting off, flat on his back with his dark hair intertwining with the rug. He'd also been half snoring. It showed just how far I was gone that I didn't really even mind. Then he was laughing, chest vibrating with it as I propped my chin against it to fully look at him.

Lifting his head slightly off the rug, he raised his eyebrows at me. "Rebel, I'm going need at least ten minutes to recover."

Unable to help myself, I mimicked his look, and deadpanned, "I thought young men were supposed to have faster recovery times. Didn't realize you were already so old, maybe I should've aimed a little younger."

We held each other's eye contact, serious expressions, and I did my best to try and win. But instantly I could feel my lips begin to tremble with the effort, then he widened his eyes comically and I couldn't stop the instant response to smile.

As if he'd considered it deeply, Seth said, "Five minutes, then."

This time I couldn't help the laughter that came out in a ridiculous snort, and I had to hide my face against his bare chest. My ginger hair hid me well, pooling across his chest.

It took a moment to get the laughter under control, stifling the sound against his skin, and Seth took to running a hand over my dishevelled hair. I peeked up through the messy red strands, and admitted, "I might need longer than you. I still can't really feel my legs properly."

That had Seth dissolving into laughter.

Despite the way his chest was shaking was far from comfortable, I rested my cheek back down, with a contented sigh. I could hear his heart beat steadily thumping as the laughter slowed. His hand was still running over my hair, and I let my eyes fall shut, lulled back into an almost meditative state by the motion.

He was pulling back gently from my face, his fingers brushing over my cheek as light as a feather every few strokes.

"You know," Seth started, all laughter forgotten to be replaced with his low voice that rumbled through his chest beneath my ear. I just closed my eyes, content to feel his voice. "We've only known each other for a bit over a year. And I can't imagine a world where we're not here anymore."

A little smile curved my lips, and I lifted my head after pressing a little kiss to his skin again, letting my lips linger for a moment too long. I couldn't help the softness in my eyes when I met his eyes again. "I can imagine not being here," I returned, watching as he frowned at me and the hand stilled, splayed across the back of my head. But my smile remained, "I can imagine being everywhere in the world with you, not being here is easy, but I can't imagine not being with you."

Instead of returning to running his hand through my hair, he used the hand to pull me towards him to press our lips together. His fingers tightened in my hair. However when I went to deepen the kiss, he pulled away abruptly and jumped up to his feet.

I wobbled, not prepared to have him move when I'd been laying on him for the better part of a half hour. I almost splayed out across the ground.

Seth didn't notice, though, quickly pulling on his jeans. In his absence I felt abruptly freezing, even though I'd just been burning quite happily there. It was quite jarring to be alone on the floor of the warehouse. But then Seth was glancing over his shoulder at me, and said, "I wanna show you something."

In response I only blinked.

Without bothering to put on a shirt, Seth was walking right back out of the new studio that they'd finished constructing in the warehouse. Seth had joked to Jake and Will that he and I would be christening it to see their looks of disgust. I didn't think they'd known just how serious he was.

I was still in a state of shock at the change of events that the glass door had already closed behind him before I finally pushed myself up to a sitting position. Without him there with me, I felt vulnerable in the middle of the instruments we'd set up, laying naked by myself. At the very least the rugs made sure I wasn't laying the cold cement floor. A quick glance around let me find the blanket we'd forgotten about earlier.

When I went to pull it around myself, Seth's voice pooled out of the speakers around me, and my eyes shot up through the glass to find him leaning over the board. "Don't move an inch," he said with a crooked grin, "No clothes, no blankets."

Despite myself, I let out a laugh, but I didn't pull the blanket up like I'd wanted, though I didn't let go either. "Why not?"

"Inspiration," he answered.

I only rolled my eyes, and asked, "So what is it you're showing me?"

"I wrote you a song," Seth said without a trace of embarrassment. And then he took his hand off the board, separating us with no sound and a glass wall now too. But he was busy setting up a master to play before he pressed on the intercom again. "I was going to show you the words, but I wanted you to hear it the way I hear it first."

"I always hear things the way you do." My response came out sure.

Seth smiled at me through the glass, my words having paused him where he'd been setting up. "I know." And then he was playing it.

The guitar was delicate, strumming into my ear without bothering to take away the finger noise. The analog made it sound like he was playing right beside me instead of it coming from the speakers set up all around. He'd turned the volume up in a way that might have offended a normal person, but I'd always loved a wall of noise.

So I laid back down and just listened. I'd thought I'd heard him in every way possible, but I'd never heard him like this.

When the vocals kicked in, I almost gave a laugh, unable to help myself. But it was an incredulous laugh, a sound made from me still being in awe of how talented he was. He wasn't trying hard in the recording, but the soul of the whole ensemble could be felt in the way the sound was pulsing against my skin. It was just an acoustic love song, and it was world shattering. Because at the moment my whole world had narrowed down to the studio.

It may have been a love song as Seth had put it, but it wasn't quite that simple. There was a sadness to it that I had learned long before came with him. With my eyes closed, I let the words wash over me.

'If I could grow a new heart, it might stop skipping during the day. Sad people with happy faces, and they're always in the way. You're my favourite everything. If I asked you to be the beginning of my end, could we just skip to that end?'

With a sigh, I turned off the guitar track playing around me with a flick of my fingers, letting myself drop my head onto the board dejectedly.

I hadn't heard a note of that last take, and was going to have to start all over again, hopefully with a mind that hadn't segued straight into the past. Yet I could still hear that acoustic song echoing in my mind. I hadn't heard that song in years, but I thought if I had been handed a guitar right then, I might've been able to play it perfectly from beginning to end from memory alone.

It had never been put on an album, or even relegated to being a b-side. I wasn't even sure if Will or Jake had ever even heard it. That had been one of the few songs that we'd thought was too personal to share with the world – it had been only for the two of us.

Maybe had we thought that about more songs, it might've been easier for us to stay together as a band. We'd always been too good about giving ourselves away.

There would be a recording of it somewhere. That, at the very least, I was sure about. Seth wouldn't have let it go without making sure there were copies, it was one of those things that he was good at. Whatever he'd done, he'd always been the best at making sure our history was laid out through all those CDs that we'd been slowly leaking songs off of.

And I couldn't help but wonder if someone else had gotten the recording in their stack of CDs.

However the thought was cut off short when there was a ding from beside me, and I glanced up to see that it was Will who had messaged. It read simply, 'You better not be late'.

A quick glance at the time showed that was exactly what I was.

Cursing, I shot up from my seat to hurriedly gather up my stuff.

With just a quick change of clothes – there was no time for a shower, only a quick face wash and some deodorant – Nick and I arrived.

Will hadn't bothered to tell me where his early birthday party was happening, just sending the info to Nick. Apparently he believed my boyfriend to be more reliable, and I couldn't really fault him for coming to that conclusion. So it came as a surprise as the cab pulled up next to the dingy building.

I kept glancing towards Nick as he paid, even as we slid out of the car, but his expression never faltered.

It was like he thought if he ignored the situation all together, then it might disappear. It was something I couldn't blame him for since that was my usual reaction to things I'd rather not deal with, but that wasn't happening this time. So I just parked myself in the middle of the sidewalk, eyes flicking between the sign that read 'The Cellar' over the dingy looking door and my boyfriend.

Realizing that I was being stubbornly passive aggressive in this situation, Nick gave a deep sigh as he turned around. Evidently he wasn't willing to go as far as to leave me on the street. "Yes, Keely?" he asked, voice patient as ever.

"Are you even allowed to be here at the same time as Seth?" I returned his question with one of my own, not bothering to beat around the bush as I looked at him dead on. There was no point bringing up the fact that the last time we'd been here he'd sucker punched Seth – we were both quite aware.

Nick didn't bother to pretend to be surprised. "You think Seth is going to be here?"

"Can we stop answering questions with questions?" I asked, noting the irony easily. "Of course Seth is going to be here, it's for Will." My mind couldn't help but remind me that the last time we'd all been together, he'd stormed out, but I decided against thinking about it.

It was the first of what I could only assume would be many outings for Will's twenty sixth birthday, and we were not going to ruin it.

"Well, I guess we'll find out," Nick answered.

And then he just held out an offering hand.

I rolled my eyes at him, but it was somehow an affectionate motion, because I took the hand without hesitating.

My worries were unfounded, because when we hit the bottom of the stairs that had taken us down to the club, there was no sign of Seth. The realization hit me with in a hollow sensation in the pit of my stomach. It was a feeling of déjà vu so strong I couldn't push it away, having had such faith that he would be somewhere only to find out that I was just being foolish.

There were no certainties when it came to Seth Ryan. Maybe I was just doomed to repeat that same lesson until the day I died, because it felt like I'd been given it over and over again since I'd been eighteen. I guess I was a slow learner.

Since it was only a Wednesday, the bar was pretty empty and there was no live music. Instead there was music pumping from the speakers, but it was pretty mellow, and there was an empty stool up on the stage with a microphone stand before it. Open mic night here didn't look like a hit. Most of the people around the bar looked like they were minding their own business, noses buried in drinks or talking lowly with their friends.

And then there was a delighted shout, and I couldn't help but jolt in alarm, having not expected that amount of energy in the room.

It all made sense when my eyes landed on Will who was making his way over from the bar, and I couldn't help the fact I gave a laugh. Then he was bundling me up in a hug. "How much have you had to drink already?"

With all the insult possible, he pulled away with a distasteful glance down to me. "Well, if you weren't so late, you'd be tipsy too," he said, "And it's my birthday."

"Your birthday is next week," I corrected.

"It's my birthday-week," Will retorted without missing a beat. "Don't be a drag, Keel."

It took every bit of will inside me not to roll my eyes at that. It was just like I'd told Nick this morning, but I'd hoped I was being dramatic about the whole thing. I couldn't understand since I was a person that would rather just sleep through her birthday. Still I made the effort and smiled at him instead.

That only had Will laughing loudly, clearly seeing through the look that I pasted. He just patted my cheek. "You're not going to be a wet blanket tonight, right?"

The affronted look on my face must've bypassed comical, because I caught sight of Nick having to bit back his laughter at Will's shoulder. "What is this image that you have of me? I've always been the life of the party."

"You got old," Will said primly, "Gonna be twenty seven this year."

"Would you fuck off about that? It's a sensitive subject."

That only had both my friend and boyfriend laughing, but I was starting to feel personally attacked by this whole conversation. But then Will was dragging me in with an arm around my shoulder. I decided to ignore the fact he splashed some of his drink on me. Then he put an arm around Nick as well and tugged us towards the bar.

"Okay, I'll make it up to you with a drink," he promised, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I couldn't help but smile at him, despite everything, because his spirits seemed to be soaring tonight.

So I silently made a promise with myself to not be a wet blanket, as he'd put it. Because he was right, I hadn't been much fun lately. Not wanting to step on Seth's toes, I'd been opting out of nights out with the band and being decidedly quiet whenever we were together, refusing as much as a beer before making an excuse to leave. I couldn't be the one to push him out, not when I was the one to turn him down. It wasn't fair. Even if he appeared to be trying his utmost to push himself out.

"Shouldn't we be buying you drinks?" I asked. Absently I wondered if I could pay for the drinks they'd had already had if they had just been putting them on a tab for a night.

But then Will was shaking his head. "No, no, no," he said surely, "This is me giving the gift of booze for my birthday. I'm being generous. Anyways, you can pay for the drinks next time. There will be at least three nights out for my birthday or else the whole thing is ruined."

I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from asking if that was a bit much. I wasn't going to be a drag, I reminded myself.

Before I could blink, Will was pulling us to a stop in front of the bar and was ordering a drink without even consulting me before nudging Nick to order for himself. This time I didn't restrain myself from rolling my eyes, but still murmured a thank you as the bartender pushed the gin and tonic towards me.

The drink was almost at my lips before it was snatched away, and Will was frowning at me like I'd just broken some sacred truce. "Wait until we all have our shots, don't be rude."

"That's a bit of a strong start, don't you think?" I asked, a little frown forming between my eyebrows.

But Will just scoffed at me while Nick got handed his beer on his other side. "It's the only start we've ever done," he pointed out. And he was right about that. The Spares always had a routine when they went out drinking, but we weren't them right now. It was only Will and I with Nick up at the bar.

Any excuses that I might've made up to slow us down a little were proved pointless, because there were three tequila shots shoved towards Will and he quickly divvied them up between us. I couldn't help the fact that I pulled a pre-emptive disgusted expression. It was fitting for a tequila shot, which I never thought tasted good in the first place, let alone when I'd significantly curbed my daily drinking habits.

Only a little reluctant, I lifted up my shot and met Nick's eyes across him. He was holding his own glass, and as if he could sense the hesitance, he just gave a shrug. There was a grin playing around the edges on his lips.

So I just gave a little sigh before raising the glass in a mock toast. "To the first of three –"

"At least," Will interrupted.

A little laugh escaped my lips even as I made a show of raising my eyes to the ceiling. "To the first of at least three parties in honour of Will's twenty sixth year of being alive," I said, putting a snooty accent onto my toast. I was never able to do these sorts of things seriously. "It's quite the achievement when you think about it."

Then in unison the three of us downed the shots, all pulling pinched expressions at the taste. There were no limes to chase the tequila with – this wasn't the sort of bar that was going to stock fresh fruit – so I took a quick sip of the gin and tonic. It didn't do much to get rid of the taste, but my sinuses felt very clear.

"I feel like that was a bit of a jab, but I'm going to ignore it since I'm in such a good mood," said Will. Then he was wrapping his arm around my shoulders again. "C'mon, I need to do introductions."

The glance I sent Nick this time was a bit helpless before I was carted away. When Will got something in his head for a night, there was no point trying to talk him out of it. It didn't happen too often, usually he was all too happy to just go with the flow, but apparently he had a plan for the night.

It had a worried feeling brewing deep in my stomach, but I drowned the sensation with a big gulp from my glass. Even if the only times Will was pushy like this were when he had a specific plan in mind, it shouldn't bother me, he'd never been the type to set out to ruin something for me. I had to remind myself that he was probably the kindest person I'd ever met. Well, second to Nick of course.

Reminding myself it was only Will, I took a slower sip from the drink as I caught sight of long blonde hair. "You wanted to introduce me to Jake?" I asked, my tone coming out severely unimpressed.

"Oh, have you met before?" Will countered sarcastically.

And never one to back down from sarcasm, I returned it tenfold. "No, I don't we've ever actually talked before. I've heard of him, though."

Always quick on the uptake, the confused look on Jake's face melted away to be replaced with a smile as he held out a hand for me to take. "Keely Staub! I've seen you on magazines," he said with a high pitch voice before kissing the back of my hand in a flourish. It was stupid and foolish, but I couldn't help the fact I laughed.

The song changed over the speakers, and Jack White began to sing his dark rendition of Jolene, but I wasn't given the chance to comment. Instead Will spoke up first. "If you're quite done, I wanted to introduce you to Claire since you guys haven't met her yet."

With those words, he pulled me around Jake who was pretending to look insulted, and I came head on with another long haired blonde entirely.

She was standing next to the table, chatting with Ben and his girlfriend who were clearly far more punctual than me. However she glanced our way like she'd known we were coming. Her felt straight around her face, and she had pretty blue eyes that almost god damned twinkled when she smiled brightly at us, not a hint of artifice there.

I was suddenly quite aware why she was one of the top actresses around – at least that's what Will told me – because she looked like magic in real life dressed in jeans and a flowing white shirt. I couldn't imagine what she looked like on a screen. She even moved like she should've been on set on some period piece, elegant and smooth across the ground. It stood stark in opposition of the song playing around us.

He talks about you in his sleep. There's nothing I can do to keep from crying when he calls your name, Jolene. And I can easily see how you could easily take my man. But you don't know what he means to me, Jolene.

"Keely!" she exclaimed excitedly, attention ripped away from the couple she'd been talking to. "I've heard more stories about you from Will than I think I've heard about anyone in the world."

And then she pulled me into a hug.

It wasn't like Will's hug that had so clearly been propelled by alcohol to the point he'd thrown me off balance in the embrace, instead she felt careful as she squeezed me tightly. There was an easy affection in the hold that shocked me. It really shouldn't have, I'd been hugged by so many people that somehow knew me and loved me while I'd never met them before, but this was different.

This wasn't a typical hug that a fan would ask for one the street, this felt far more knowing, like she already knew everything about me. How much had Will told her?

So caught off guard, it took me a long moment before I returned the hug, and then she was already starting to let go.

"Sorry," she said hurriedly, looking down at me. "Will's been telling me about you for years, so it felt only right to hug you. And I'm a big fan, so that probably plays into it as well. The hug was overstepping, though, so sorry again."

I found myself blinking at her words, still feeling so off kilter by the whole interaction. But I quickly shook my head and smiled at her. It felt impossible not to reassure her, seeing the worry setting in on her face the longer it took me to reply. "No, no, it's fine. But you are starting to worry me with all these talks of stories."

Her eyes were back to shining as she grinned broadly. "Like Will would ever say something bad about you."

"I'm not so sure about that," I replied, "There are a lot of bad stories to be told."

Yet Claire only shook her head lightly, her hair catching the light like a scene in a movie. "You were his best friend; he was only ever going to tell me the good things. And I can tell you there are a lot of good ones. I'm almost jealous of the things you used to get up to. Oh," she said, putting her hand over her mouth. It should've been a cliché that made me want to scoff, but instead I found it endearing. "I totally forgot to introduce myself, I'm Claire Woodburn."

"I know who you are," I said on a laugh, "Will's a gossipy little bitch, isn't he?"

"Oi," complained Will who had been hanging back while we talked. "Just because you've known me since I was a teenager, doesn't mean you get to poison my new best friend's mind."

Hearing him call her his new best friend had me pausing, unable to stop myself. In my head, I kept repeating that I'd promised myself that I wasn't going to be a downer, but it was hard to keep the smile on my face in that moment. He hadn't said it to be malicious – Will wasn't like that. Yet it still felt like I'd been taken out at the knees.

How could I be surprised, though? We went four years with one conversation between us. Will had been the one to reach out, and I'd ended it in a few short words of advice about a pedal before hanging up and never bothering to get in touch with him again. I watched as Claire pushed Will away, the move warm and common, so used to being around each other. There was no room for me to be jealous here, because it was my fault. I could've kept in touch with Will after The Spares had broken up.

If he'd moved on to find a new best friend, which was clear from the way he bundled her into a hug against his chest while she pulled joking disgusted faces while trying to push him away, I really only had myself to blame. History could only mean so much. Especially when someone made it clear they wanted nothing to do with you. And no matter how well we still got along, it didn't make up for years of silence.

I came back to the present time right when Claire successfully managed to push Will away, who gave a dangerous wobble before heading back towards Jake. "He's had a lot to drink already," Claire said by way of an excuse, but there was a smile on her mouth.

While I watched her for a beat too long, waiting to feel that ugly feeling that rose with jealousy where I couldn't stand the person, I realized that wasn't coming. It was more jealousy of how Will and I used to be. It really didn't have to do with her. And she just looked so sincere; I couldn't work it up to feel anything but kind to her. So I only shrugged, and said, "Well, it is his birthday."

"His birthday isn't until next week," she said exasperated.

"Right?!"

Our conversation started with our commonality – Will. It was far too easy to talk about him, and that feeling of jealousy deep inside me lessened its grip and allowed me to relax. She was absolutely lovely to talk to. We were swapping stories about our mutual best friend and in hysterics over them.

It wasn't really surprising, out of every member of The Spares, Will was probably the most instantly likeable with Jake right behind. Seth and I were a bit of a toss up – it really depended on the day. We were both moody, but Seth could be very charming if he wanted. I supposed that made me the least likeable member. So it only made sense that the person he decided was his new best friend was just as easy to get along with as him. Plus we both had some pretty good stories.

Nick brought me another drink at one point, pressing a kiss to my cheek to make me giggle. Yet after I introduced (he gushed about the last movie he'd seen her in) he went off to join his band mate who was in an animated discussion with Jake. I could only wonder what the hand gestures meant before the broke down in laughter. I couldn't help but watch them with a warm smile before I tuned back into the conversation with Claire.

Soon enough we left the subject of Will behind – he was really just the ice breaker. It turned out I liked her just as much when we talked about other things as well. I found out that she went to Brown where she studied literature and English, and though she was humble, it sounded as if she went quite far with the subject. If she hadn't been so warm and friendly, she would've been intimidating with her literal movie star good looks and the sharp brain behind them. Subconsciously I could feel myself shrinking before her the more I learnt, but she was just as an enthusiastic about The Spares and I.

There were no pressing for stories about the days of The Spares that I had already steeled myself against – those were the questions I responded in monotone to. Instead she poured out to me about how she'd been listening to me since her first year of university when my first solo album had come out. Then she told me about how much a fan she'd been of The Spares, but she made a point to tell me about how inspirational my solo albums had been for her. She'd gotten out of a toxic relationship herself when my second solo album had been released, and told me how it had been the soundtrack to her year. And still I never saw a hint of artifice lying behind her eyes. It was almost alarming how genuine she was.

Maybe she was just severely empathetic, because she never asked a grating question. People that were fans usually asked too much from me, assuming that because my music was so free with my emotions that I'd be okay with telling them the inner most parts of my life. Instead I found myself willingly telling her stories. Nothing too personal or scarring, of course, but it didn't feel like a chore to talk to her.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed since I'd gotten there. All I knew was that I'd just finished my second gin and tonic, but it wasn't like how I usually drank when I gulped it down to try and hide inside the alcohol or if I was competing with the guys. I'd drank slower than I thought I'd ever done before, just careful sips spaced between sentences.

But right as I was finishing my drink, my eyes were dragged from Claire like they were magnetized to the staircase. I had to swallow carefully not to choke as I watched Seth walk into the room. His hair was tousled in a way that annoyingly almost looked artful and he had a black guitar case in hand. It was like he'd only remembered now that he was supposed to show for this – which was a probable. The collar of his leather jacket was popped up, of course, and his expression was staunch.

Right then Will and Jake started cheering in the unison at the sight of him, and I watched as his expression cracked into a smile right before Will launched himself at the smaller man. Then I couldn't see anything at all.

Claire was telling me a story about the set she was on, and I'd been quite engrossed before, but few things kept my attention when Seth was in a room. My eyes were glued over there. Still I nodded when I heard a pause from her, and apparently that was the right thing to do because she continued speaking. As I watched, Will pointed a finger towards Claire and I excitedly.

Since I very much doubted he'd be talking about me like that with Seth at the moment considering all the tension as of late, I quickly made a decision.

"Hey," I said, jumping at another pause from my companion. "Do you want another drink? I'm just going to get a refill."

To her credit, Claire simply smiled at the interruption and said, "I'd get a water."

"Are sure?" I asked, only slightly incredulous. This wasn't the type of place one drank water. "I'd happily buy you a real drink – I've only been talking your ear off for the past while."

"I've been talking yours off as well," she laughed, "But I don't drink alcohol, so a water would be perfect."

And instantly I felt like the worst kind of brute, floundering there because I hadn't expected that I'd be the one to be so pushy. It must've shown on my face, because Claire quickly shook her head, even as she smiled reassuringly at me. "Oh, don't worry about it, Keely. I'm not militant about it. It's just a choice."

"Okay, well, I'll be back with a water for you," I promised.

I stood up from the table at just the right moment, because Will was dragging Seth over to her, just as he'd dragged me. Apparently he was very excited to show off his new friend to all his old ones. My eyes caught on Seth's, just for a split second before I turned from the bar, and the expression didn't harden at the sight at me. I found myself letting out a sigh of relief, knowing that was as much as I could ask for right now.

It was me that broke off our eye contact, walking towards the bar. If I was following rules of politeness, I should've at least said hello to him, but I couldn't even bring myself to do that. Every time our eyes met, I could feel my stomach sinking and twisting, all caught up in the guilt that I couldn't let go.

With how eager Will looked as he dragged him over, I figured I might need to give it slightly longer. The bartender had proved time and time again to be quite efficient, and seeing how there weren't many other people in the building beyond our group, he didn't have much to do. A gin and tonic along with a water wouldn't be too time consuming. So I switched my path, veering off to the left.

Instinctively I nestled into Nick's side, like I wanted to hide there, and though his drink gave a dangerous wobble at my surprise appearance, he quickly accommodated me. His arm twisted around my shoulders as he grinned at me. "Oh, are you gracing us mere musicians with your presence?" he teased lightly.

"I figured I'd lower myself to your level for a few minutes." I tried to return in kind, but my heart wasn't really in it, causing the words to come out a bit flat.

Yet Jake had always been happy to step in when I faded, and though Nick frowned slightly, he was distracted by the Englishman piping up. "So Keel, you becoming a movie star now?"

I sent him a grateful little turn of the lips, getting a little more time to get a grip of myself, and my voice came out stronger when I spoke, though I stayed leaning into Nick's side. "Well, as you know, music was always just a stepping stone for me. I've just been waiting for the perfect role to come along."

Ben's jaw dropped, and he exclaimed, "I'd never heard that!"

All eyes turned to him and there was a long pause before his girlfriend spoke up. "Learn what sarcasm is, sweetie," she said with a roll of the eyes. But it was still affectionate with the way her hand patted his forearm.

To his credit, Ben looked embarrassed, the apples of cheeks turning a bright red. And it was that alone that garnered sympathy from me, stopping me from being scathing, opting instead to just smile at him. "If the role was rock star, I would," I said fairly, giving an one armed shrug. "You know as well as anyone that I'm not a good actor."

"It's always been easy to see what's going through your mind," Nick pointed out, giving me a squeeze.

Jake only scoffed, adding, "Just imagine how she was on blow. Couldn't keep a thought to herself – bloody annoying, if you ask me."

"Hey," I protested, "Why are you guys attacking me tonight?"

The complaint was half hearted, and Jake grinned at me knowingly despite the fact I felt Nick stiffen at my side. "Oh, I would never, K," he promised, "I've always loved you best when you're on coke."

Apparently he was good at distracting me, because I let out a loud laugh.

The conversation changed quickly enough, which I was grateful for. I didn't like to linger too long on that subject these days, and it was always easier to bicker in a group about whether ABBA was a guilty pleasure or not. I voted not because they were just a fucking pleasure all the time, nothing guilty about it. I'd fight the good fight until my dying breath.

Ben was affronted when Nick sided with Jake and I, but there was nothing too serious about it. In fact I found myself just letting them argue back in forth, content with watching Nick fondly as a Bob Dylan song started playing over the speakers. I've seen love go by my door. It's never been this close before. Never been so easy or so slow.

Not moving an inch, I let my eyes flick over Jake's shoulder to where Will and Seth were still standing with Claire. I've been shooting in the dark too long. When something's not right it's wrong. You're gonna make me lonesome when you go.

My attention was instantly distracted as I watched them, a frown burrowing its way into the lines of my face.

Claire was smiling across at Seth, that same warm smile she'd fixed me with, and an invasive thought popped into my head wondering if she'd hugged him. Suddenly I was wishing fervently that I knew. Because he'd trained his features into a friendly expression as he said something, which was more than I'd seen of late. I'd never wanted to read lips so badly.

Dragon clouds high above. I've only known careless love. It's always hit me from below. But this time round it's more correct. Right on target, so direct. You're gonna make me lonesome when you go.

As if sensing my intent stare, Seth's eyes flicked towards us, our gazes catching despite the distance. Purple clover, Queen Anne lace. Crimson hair across your face. You could make me cry if you don't know. Can't remember what I was thinking of. You might be spoiling me too much, love. You're gonna make me lonesome when you go.

Will was talking while Claire nodded intently, but we were still caught up in the look. Flowers on the hillside, blooming crazy. Crickets talking back and forth in rhyme. Blue river running slow and lazy. I could stay with you forever. And never realize the time.

And then he was the one to look away, adding something to the conversation that made Claire laugh. I wondered if her eyes were still shining like they were before. Situations have ended sad. Relationships have all been bad. Mine have been like Verlaine's and Rimbaud. But there's no way I can compare. All them scenes to this affair. You're gonna make me lonesome when you go.

While I watched Will pushed Seth forward half a step, and there was a sinking feeling in my stomach because he was being far too obvious. Claire was still smiling brightly. You're gonna make me wonder what I'm doing. Staying far behind without you. You're gonna make me wonder what I'm saying. You're gonna make me give myself a good talking to.

When we'd arrived I'd instinctively known Will was up to something, and I'd talked myself down from worrying. Still I never would've guessed this was his plan. A part of me was still disbelieving, but it was clear with the way he was glancing back and forth between them with a bright expression on his face. They'd just been teasing me about how it was too easy to tell what I was thinking, but what about him?

I'll look for you in old Honolul-a. San Francisco, Ashtabula. You're gonna have to leave me now, I know. But I'll see you in the sky above. In the tall grass, in the ones I love. You're gonna make me lonesome when you go.

When the song switched to a song by The Eagles, I tore my gaze away, but I could still feel that frown cutting its way into my skin. It felt as if it was going to be permanently etched there. And that's when I caught sight of Jake watching me. Nick and Ben were still caught up in the ABBA discussion, but it appeared he'd left them to their own devices as well.

Looking away quickly, I said, "I promised Claire I'd bring her a water, I'll be back."

"Bring us back something?" Jake asked. I could feel his gaze burning into my side, but I refused to look back, worried about what he'd see there.

"Get it yourself," I said shortly before walking away from them.

As I guessed it didn't take long at all to get our drinks, but my mind felt muddied as I kept glancing over my shoulder. Will was clearly prodding the conversation along, but it looked as if Seth and Claire would've been doing fine without his proud glances between them. My stomach was starting to swim dangerously.

With knees that felt a bit wobbly, I made my way over with my hands full of the cold glasses. No one noticed me approaching – Claire and Seth were leaning in towards each other ever so slightly, and I could hear them talking about Rimbaud. The Bob Dylan song must've been the inspiration, but all I knew about the person was that Bob had name dropped them in a song. I could guess that he wasn't a musician, and that was about as far as my knowledge went. That feeling in my stomach hardened like a brick, falling somewhere down with my feet.

It was actually Will who caught sight of me first, the other two too caught up in their conversation and I was thankful that I managed to keep my hands from shaking. That delighted expression on his face fell when he caught sight of me. I hoped that it was from guilt, not being able to read my thoughts across my face.

"Keely!" Claire exclaimed happily at the sight of me, and I found out her eyes were still shining. "What do you think about the Poésies? Seth thinks they were bland in comparison to Rimbaud's later work, which I agree, but I think that there was so much promise there."

I just found myself blinking at her, never having felt quite as dumb as I did then with her earnest eyes on me. "Um..." I said blankly. Suddenly I felt very clunky, like I was a piece that didn't belong to the puzzle they were putting together.

"I'm not saying there wasn't promise, but he was only twenty one when he stopped writing so he always had promise. Who knows what he could've done." Seth didn't allow me to hang out there very long, jumping in where I floundered. I almost breathed a sigh of relief, having been saved from that embarrassment, but then Seth spared me a cold glance. "And this is really not a topic for Keely."

Claire shook her head, look unconvinced. "Of course she knows about poetry," she argued, "I've listened to her work."

"There's a difference between poetry and music," Seth pointed out.

"But you can't deny that there so many basic similarities. Rhythm and rhyme and on and on – I could go blue in the face pointing them out. You don't have to know about some dusty old poems to know poetry. She's a poet herself."

Yet again I found myself blinking, and I thought that might've been the nicest thing anyone had ever said about me. It made that feeling in my stomach worse.

That sensation wasn't helped by the fact that Seth had the gall to look impressed. "But we're talking Rimbaud, not about the correlation between modern day song writing and poetry."

Not missing a beat, Claire countered, "But we only got on the subject because of a Bob Dylan song and you can't argue his influence on modern day song writing. That would just be embarrassing. And he was quite outspokenly influenced by poetry. Not to mention Chanson de la plus Haute Tour was musically inspired, so it brings us all the way back around."

"Oisive jeunesse, A tout asservie, Par délicatesse, J'ai perdu ma vie. Ah! Que le temps vienne. Où les cœurs s'éprennent." Seth recited the poem perfectly, or at least I assumed as much. "I'll admit you have a point." He was even sporting a small smile – it looked reluctant but far from that empty eyed one I'd known so well over the years.

I used to love hearing Seth speak French, even more so when we'd visit France and he'd have a chance to really flex his muscles with the language, but in that moment it just made me feel like I could puke any moment. There had been a time when he'd liked nothing more than to recite French poetry to me, and I'd loved every moment of it.

I had so many memories of rainy days we'd spent naked in bed and he'd spaced the time out with reading to me from tattered paperbacks – I used to lay with my head on his thigh with closed eyes and just listen. Yet I'd never known what he'd been saying. I used to just rely on him giving me a roughly translated version that he would always tell me didn't compare to the original language.

But this time he hadn't been looking at me when he'd said it, and by the charmed look that overtook Claire, I was sure she understood perfectly.

There was no need to translate for her.

Thinking that if I listened to another second of this conversation I might be violently ill, I held the glass out towards her, wondering if I looked as bullish as I felt. "It's a big deal for Seth to admit someone else is right," I said, steeling a glance towards him only to find he was stubbornly not looking at me. "But he's right too, I don't know anything about poetry."

"He's just being a snob," Claire said, and there was easiness to the tease in her voice that I was jealous of.

I couldn't dare talk to him like that right now. Fuck, I felt like I could barely dare to meet his eyes half the time. I was worried that I might see pain there or that he'd lash out at me or that even a look might hurt him. Maybe I was worried that he might hurt me right back. There was too much history there and it made interacting with one another a minefield, especially with the lies that were between us.

And there she was, just relaxed and talking about something she was passionate about without any fears of what her words could be.

Refusing to glance in Seth's direction, too scared to see the expression on his face, I just offered her a shrug. "And though I've never been quite so highly praised before, I'm no poet. I'm just a song writer. It's far less prestigious."

Claire began to shake her head, and I felt queasy, my palm sweaty on the glass I held limply in front of me. She was stubborn, and beautiful, and opinionated, and so very smart.

And I was going to be sick.

So I didn't let her argue the point. "I have a very important conversation about ABBA that I need to get back to," I said, nodding blindly to where I hoped they were still stood at the other table. With every word that left my mouth I felt more stupid and clumsy. "I just wanted to bring you that water. You're going to need it if you want to bicker about poetry with him."

My eyes flicked towards Will, and I found that his gaze was caught on me, no longer looking between his set up. There was a frown on his mouth and his eyes looked sad. I probably could've reassured him that moment, given him a little smile and a shrug. Without using a word, I could tell him that it was all fine. We'd always been good at communicating in silence. But that was the last thing I was going to do.

Instead I let my look harden as I stared at him for a just a beat too long, letting my point get across. It may have been the easiness that Seth and Claire were talking and the fact he was smiling at her, but I didn't see them as the reason my heart was thudding dully against my ribcage. In my mind it was Will's fault. He'd done this.

Carefully to turn away so I wouldn't have to look at Seth, I made my way on numb knees back towards the bar. Only then did my hand begin to shake.

Briefly I wondered if I should hightail it to the bathroom, but drowned half of my drink in one gulp. It seemed like a better decision. I couldn't help but look at it, considering. Really I could have a dozen of these gone in no time.

However the appraising glance up towards the bar had the thoughts leaving my mind, because I found Jake up there, elbows on the counter as he spoke to the bartender.

Feeling like there was cotton stuffed in my ears, I walked as carefully as I could manage up beside him. When I came to a stop there, Jake sent me an unassuming glance, which I answered by finishing the drink in my hand. And when I put it down on the bar, it was with more force than I needed. The bang had Jake looking me with raised eyebrows.

"What's going on?" I asked. My voice came out thick, but I barely noticed.

If Jake noticed, he was good at pretending to be oblivious. In fact he only spared me a quick glance before turning back to watch the bartender pour some pints. "Since you refused to bring us drinks like any good mate would, I had to come up here for refills."

His answer had my eyes narrowing. I was trying to be blunt here, and I didn't enjoy him brushing me off. "Did you know that Will was doing?"

"Yes," Jake said frankly. Apparently he was done feigning innocence.

But he still didn't look at me.

"Why would you do this to me?"

That was enough to have him shoving up from the bar, and he looked somewhere between irritated and sad as he frowned down at me. For some reason I was quite aware that his blonde hair was knotted behind his ears. "And do you want to explain just what it is I'm doing to you?" he returned, hushing his voice when the bartender pushed the pints towards us.

In terrible manners, neither of us even thanked him – too focused on what felt jagged between us. A bitter thought crossed my mind that Claire probably would never dare to be quite this rude.

"You know exactly what," I hissed, fingers curling tightly inwards as I pressed my knuckles against my jeans. They were my best chance at staying grounded. "Did you guys just want to hurt me or something? Is this some sort of revenge?"

Jake gave a laugh, rubbing his palms over his eyes. His voice was muffled behind his hands, and tired as he said, "I don't need revenge against you, Keely."

"Then why would you two do this?" I asked, voice starting to edge on hysterical.

With an obvious swallow, he looked back at me, and his eyes were dark. I wasn't used to Jake looking at me like this. He'd always been soft on me in comparison to the other boys, even in the worst of times, never as outright cruel as Seth and not as cutting as Will. "Are you with Nick?"

The question came out of left field for me, and I felt like I'd been slapped. I only blinked at Jake dumbly for a moment and my hands went limp beside me. "Of course," I answered. What kind of question was that?

"Then you need to let him have someone," Jake told me. Now he just looked sad as he slumped against the bar, still looking down at me. It was like he was breaking the worst sort of news to me, expression fittingly dark, but sympathetic. And I suddenly noticed that Vampire Weekend was playing around us, a simple apology sounding in I Stand Corrected.

And I knew just what he was saying to me, and all that indignant attitude melted away until I felt tears threatening at the corners of my eyes. It burned. My voice was thick again, and I said, "It's not fair."

Jake looked pained, as if my words had taken a knife to his side. "You don't love him anymore, you don't want him. But you're the only one that gets to move on and be happy with someone else? C'mon Keely," he implored me quietly; "You know that's not fair."

With a shaky breath, I dug my hands into my hair, pulling it away from my face. "It's not that simple. It's never been simple with us."

"Actually it is," he replied surely, a sad smile painting his mouth. "You can't expect him to just sit there waiting for you forever. You've both been holding on way too long, and you're just hurting each other still."

Trying to regulate my breathing, I focused on gathering air and releasing it slowly. Like a mantra. All along I stared up at the ceiling, not really seeing anything but hoping that if I didn't look at my friend, the tears wouldn't fall.

A part of me had been aware that Seth had probably slept around after he'd left me. It wasn't like he'd had a clean track record before I'd met him. The press of course had made me think he was disgusting when we'd first met, and I knew for a fact that almost ninety percent of those stories were lies. But I'd always known he was no monk. It only followed that he wouldn't have been celibate after he'd left, but I'd never dared to think about it.

Unable to stop myself, I glanced back over my shoulder to see them again. Will wasn't standing with them anymore, but they were still huddled together at the side of the table as they spoke, probably swapping gross old poetry. They looked good together, and admitting that made those tears burn at my eyes again, her brightness warring with his darkness. They made sense if I thought about it. They obviously shared a love of poetry, and Claire loved our music. They were both too smart for their own good. They were both famous and understood the trials that came along with it.

I knew that I was getting ahead of myself – they'd only just met, for god sakes. But I couldn't help myself. In all the bad times we'd had, this wasn't something I'd ever dealt with before.

Sure, I'd worried about who he was when he'd been missing for days at a time, but it had been more about what drugs they were doing and if he was alright. I'd had this bone deep certainty that Seth would never cheat on me. There hadn't been one time that I'd been concerned about him with another woman. And beyond the days of Rachael Gosling, I'd never had to see him with anyone else.

Until now, I supposed.

Without a word Jake moved forwards, moving to put his arms around me, but that was what jolted me into movement. Right then I didn't think I could stomach him hugging me. I took a step back, a dangerous look flickering across my face that was enough to halt Jake in his tracks. It was the same expression I'd fixed Will with before.

As I turned, taking my opportunity to lean against the counter and hail the bartender down, he spoke up again. "You chose Nick, Keel. That's about the beginning and the end of it."

Not thinking the words were worthy of any acknowledgment, I just ordered another gin and tonic, intending to drink this one just as quickly as the last. My mind was racing, though, and not in a good way. Will had repeatedly told me that Nick was good for me, and even if Jake had never said it aloud, the warm way he treated my boyfriend had been testament enough. Everyone liked to tell me how good he was for me. Hell, even Seth had called him for me.

All of that, repeatedly, and somehow in choosing Nick it meant I was going to lose my whole band? The idea of Seth being with someone else was hard enough to swallow. I didn't need to remember that she was Will's new best friend, or think about how Jake approved of the whole thing.

It felt like step after step tonight they were revealing plans to replace me.

"Keely," Jake said again, almost plaintive.

However the bartender was handing me my drink, and I muttered a morose thank you before turning away. It looked like I was rapidly losing places to go. So I made my way back to Nick's side, ignoring the fact that Will had made his way there as well. Other members of Fly Way had showed up without me noticing, and they were all talking loudly amongst each other.

I didn't even try to work up a greeting them, just burying myself back under Nick's arm. This time he didn't jolt at my surprise appearance. In fact he just squeezed me tightly, but I didn't dare look at him in the eyes, a bit worried about what he might see there.

"Keely!" Ben exclaimed loudly, apparently having gotten tipsier since I'd last seen him. "You distracted Jake from bringing the beer over!"

Hauling in a deep breath, I leaned my cheek against Nick's shoulder and worked up the energy to send him a small smile. It was a miniscule turn of the lips but I figured it still counted. "I'm sure he'll make it over eventually."

It became clear that that wasn't good enough, because Ben looked over to the Englishman. This time I let my eyes follow his look to find that Jake was still standing there, by himself with the beers in front of him, hands braced on the bar and head down. For a moment I thought I might've felt a stab of guilt, but I drowned it with a healthy gulp from my drink.

"He needs help," Ben declared.

I was muttering, "Go for it then," but he was already on his way.

Dragging in another deep breath, I turned my face into Nick, letting my lips rest on his shoulder. If I closed my eyes I could imagine we were back at his apartment. Maybe if I focused hard enough I could pretend that we'd never left after I got home from the studio. In my head we'd been wet blankets watching some horrifically bad movie that Nick enjoyed while drinking tea.

However I was dragged out of the daydream when Nick gave me a tight enough squeeze I got the message to look up at him.

There was a frown across his face, and I wished I could reach up to wipe it away but I was certain I couldn't. "You okay?" he asked, voice hushed underneath the well of chatter. "There you are, a thousand miles away."

"I don't want to be here," I admitted, voice coming out raspy in the truth.

That frown deepened almost alarmingly, but his eyes didn't waver from my face. "We can go," he offered without a seconds pause. "We'll go right now, anywhere you want."

Despite myself a small smile came to my mouth, and this time I didn't have to force it. I just breathed him in again. He smelt faintly like the cologne he kept in the bathroom, and no bad habits. "I promised not to be a wet blanket earlier," I answered with a sigh. Pressing my mouth back against his shoulder, my next words were barely audible. "But the moment I think we can get away with it, let's go."

"It's a deal," Nick promised with another squeeze. The lines of his face had faded, apparently recognizing the truths that were lined into the words I'd shared with him. He looked far younger now, almost baby faced. Despite all the bad feelings suffocating me I still felt a rush of affection for him right then.

After that the night became bearable.

I didn't stray very far from Nick's side, heading up to the bar when it was his turn to go get drinks even if I usually opted out of such chores. The conversation I made was minimal at best. Still with the next drink in my hand, it felt much easier to smile at whatever the group was on about and chime in once in a while.

All I had to do was keep my back to where Seth and Claire were apparently still wrapped up in conversation, not willing to come join the group at large. I could almost pretend they weren't there. Almost. And though I didn't willing start up conversations with Jake or Will, I couldn't keep up the death glares all night. It was Will's birthday after all. I would probably forgive both of them anything they could ever do, there was such affection for the two of them bred into me after our years together, but I wasn't about to forget it.

However it wasn't long until our group had the great idea that they should go force Seth and Claire to socialize with other people. Not seeing a way I could opt out without drawing far more attention to myself, I allowed Ben and his girlfriend to drag Nick and I in their direction. I was studiously avoiding meeting anyone's eyes. I doubled down on that decision when I saw that they were now sitting, facing each other with their knees close enough to be touching. It looked like Claire was reading something off her phone aloud, and Seth's brow was furrowed, eyes in focus as he listened.

Will broke the moment by bounding up, having bypassed drunk a while ago, and throwing his arms around the two of them. If it was a cartoon all their heads would've knocked together. Instead Claire threw her head back and let out a laugh that would've sounded like music over the air had my thoughts not been so dark.

Apparently Claire was more than adaptable to any situation, because when the larger group descended upon her, she flitted easily into the conversations. Maybe that was part of being an actress. Somehow I doubted it, and it was a sour thought that told me she was simply friendly and willing to talk to anyone. Despite the fact she studiously drank water the whole night, she didn't turn her nose up at the drunken chatter that got clumsier by the minute – in fact she just laughed.

My eyes kept flicking over to the drink that Seth was taking careful sips from. He'd gone to get two refills that I'd noticed, bringing back a glass for Claire one of those times as well. The liquid was clear, but I couldn't be sure if he was following her example or if he was drinking the same as me. I would never know if I didn't ask, but it wasn't an answer I was sure I wanted.

I spoke up only when someone eyed me expectantly, reminding myself not to be a drag. However I definitely not the life of the party that I'd told Will. My stomach was sitting somewhere around my feet, and I kept flitting between irritation at the situation around me and gloom. One moment I'd be so angry that Seth could have been so purposefully cruel to me since our exchange at my show only to be so charming to another woman in front of me, and then I'd remember Jake's words and I'd slip back into dejection.

There was no subtle passing of lyrics or secret smiles that Seth would send in my direction. His attention was fully focused on Seth, and it raised a whole new wave of humility when I watched him smile warmly at something she was saying. The gold in his eyes was just shy of showing off.

Having stopped drinking a while before, I pulled a pen out of my bag and pulled the napkin that Nick had been using as a coaster towards myself. His pint was gripped in his hand as he and Jake were having a far too loud conversation from across the table, practically shouting at each other. Yet somehow I had no idea what they were talking about.

Instead I focused on jotting down the song lyrics that had somehow popped up in my head, writing over the circular wet stain in the napkin. Colour pictures of re-entry. Voices calling down the hall. I wanted you to know. You're the only who bent me. This far out of shape. Don't make no mistake. I'm a liar, I'm a cheat. A leech, a thief. The outside looks no good and there ain't nothing underneath. Darling can't you see. My heart melted in the heat. My heart melted in the heat like yours.

However the moment I finished writing the first verse of The Last Shadow Puppet's song in slopping black marks, I realized there was no one to give the napkin to. Biting down on my lip a bit harder the necessary, I rolled the pen in my pen, wondering if I should just find a bin to throw it in.

After a moment I relented, shoving both the napkin and pen in my bag.

However it was right then that I realized I was on the receiving end of quite a few expectant looks. "What?" I asked blankly, eyes flicking between them all until they landed on Seth.

It was the first time our eyes had met since I'd interrupted their conversation about Rimbaud, and my stomach clenched painfully. His expression was far darker than I'd seen it when he was looking at Claire, but his knitted brow made me wonder if he'd caught sight of me writing on that napkin. Out of everyone at the table, he was probably the only one who had a clue to what I was really doing.

However my attention was stolen away when I heard Claire speaking up. "I was just saying that I'd never actually got to see The Spares play live," she explained, her eyes wide and hopeful as she looked across the table to me. "I have seen you three times though."

Not waiting for my answer, Will piped up loudly, "No drums so I'm out."

"I think you're out because you're pissed," pointed out Jake, not unkindly. "And I think that puts me out too, plus I wasn't the prick that brought my guitar to a bar."

Seth pulled an affronted look. "It's open mic night," he said, tone a bit defensive considering that Jake was quite obviously joking. "And Mark's been on our case about that organic performance shit. He doesn't want everything to seem scripted."

"Well if Mark says so," I replied sarcastically, forgetting myself for a moment. I'd been quite pointedly being very careful around Seth for the past weeks, not saying anything that might be taken out of turn. It must've been my three drinks that had loosened my tongue with the tequila at the beginning of the night.

Seth's eyes flicked in my direction, but he pointedly averted his gaze just as quickly.

"So you two will do it?" Claire asked, excitement clear in his voice.

Only then did I catch on with the fact we'd been asked to play, and I could see the empty bar stool on the stage waiting forlornly. I had to quickly swallow around the lump in my throat. Seth had been nothing but scathing when it came to me and music lately, and that was when we were playing with the boys. I couldn't imagine just the two of us.

Nick just nudged me with his elbow, clearly trying to be supportive in the shadow of what had happened last time Seth and I had played here. "Organic performance shit," he chirped up helpfully.

I was about to refuse, trying to think of reasons to list to back out. There had to be thousands.

However Seth took that opportunity to speak up, drink just lowered down from his lips carelessly with a glare shot in my direction. "I don't think that's the best idea," he said in a voice oh so cutting as he held eye contact with me. "Keely's been finding it hard to hold a note during rehearsals – I wouldn't want to find out here in front of anybody if she's gotten it together."

And that was all it took for the shocked expression to slide off my face, replaced with something far closer to a glower. I was almost thankful for it. For the first time since I'd seen them together, I was able to feel just a flash of anger across my stomach without anything else weighing it down.

"You know what? I think I should play a song with you, see if it gets me back to normal." The voice I spoke with was almost daringly friendly, in complete opposition to the dark look we were sharing over the table. Feigning excitement, I offered, "I could play the guitar while you sing!"

"I'd rather play a Bieber song," returned Seth scathingly.

The anger coursing through my veins was enough to have snapping right back, not afraid to get farther on his bad side for the first time in a long time. "I hope it's early Biebs, really would go hand in hand with your early music."

Seth's eyes flashed dangerously, and instead of answering he grabbed his guitar and turned away without a word.

I wasn't really bothered by the spectacle we were making of ourselves, shoving up from my own chair and stalking after him. For weeks I'd felt out of sorts around him, not knowing how to react to him anymore, and trying to lay low had only brought out a nastier side to him. But this? This was something I knew how to do with Seth. We were experts in being ruthless to one another.

If he wanted to try to shame me in front of everyone about one of the few things I was good at, he had another thing coming. I'd already been humiliated enough for one night when it came to him. And I wasn't afraid to go after things I knew would cut him even deeper. Not right now.

Without a word he gestured towards the bar and the music shut off, it was like he was king around here. I rolled my eyes. Still I followed him up the stairs of the stage.

Beside the microphone, I waited impatiently with a tapping foot as he opened the case of his guitar. I thought he was taking his bloody time with it just to be annoying. "I don't have all night to wait around for you," I said sharply.

With the strap of the guitar wrapped around his shoulder, Seth ran a hand through his hair and shot me a glare, shutting the case with a snap. He stood up, and I suddenly wished that I didn't have to tip my chin up to make eye contact with him. It felt like I was put on the disadvantage. "You could just fuck off my stage," he retorted as he stepped forwards to the microphone, pointedly pulling it up to his height.

My eyes narrowed, but it was in a polite voice that I asked, "So are you going to give me the guitar or are you going to sing some Bieber for all of us?"

"Fuck off, Keely," Seth snapped.

Not backing off an inch, I reached up and dragged the mic back down to my level. And I carefully made sure it was covered before I said, "Why you don't fuck your new girlfriend and give me the guitar."

Without bothering to respond in his words, Seth began to play his guitar, a very passive aggressive answer that he was the one playing. I shouldn't have been surprised. If one day he was able to sing something without a guitar in hand in front of any size crowd, I would know that was a very different man in front of me then the one I'd always known. He might've finally grown up, not been so cowardly anymore.

Too caught up in my thoughts, the song he was playing didn't click in my mind and then stopped for half second to yank the microphone stand back up. "I want love to roll me over slowly. Stick a knife inside me, and twist it all around," he sang smoothly. His eyes never left mine, angry and hard all the same time.

Yet I wasn't about to give in and grabbed the microphone, but this time I left it somewhere in the middle between us. "I want love to grab my fingers gently. Slam them in a doorway, put my face into the ground," I harmonized with him perfectly. It was like I was daring him to say I was pitchy as I stared across the mic. "I want love to murder my own mother. Take her off to somewhere like hell or up above."

I knew very well that my part in this song wasn't to sing the entirety, but I was Keely Staub and I was going to sing every line with him. "And I want love to change my friends to enemies. Change my friends to enemies. And show me how it's all my fault." We refused to drop the glare as we sang through the chorus, "I won't let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me. I won't let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me. I won't let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me anymore."

In the seconds before the next verse, both Seth and I took half a step back, rocking back onto our heels like we'd planned it. But we came back in the same way on either sides of the microphone, the tension written clearly through our shoulders. It almost looked like aggression. "I want love to walk right up and bite me. Grab a hold of me and fight me. Leave me dying on the ground," we sang together, for a moment there without Seth playing the guitar. He'd swung it behind his back, inching forwards a step so we were almost touching despite the stand creating the divide between us.

And then he swung it smoothly back in front of him, his fingers finding their spot like they'd never left as he strummed us into the next verse perfectly. "And I want love to split my mouth right open. Cover up my ears and never let me hear a sound. I want love to forget that you offended me," we sang together. My stomach was rolling over with the implication of these and the next words, but I didn't dare look away. "Or how you had defended me when everybody tore me down."

It felt like he'd chosen those words just to throw them back in my face, and my voice came out choked as we headed into the chorus. "I want love to change my friends to enemies. Change my friends to enemies and show me how it's all my fault." Still I gathered myself to finish the song together, and I could feel the shame burning deep in my gut that I'd proven his words at the table right. "I won't let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me. I won't let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me. I won't let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me, anymore."

I stood there, perfectly still as Seth finished his guitar part, but he stepped back away from me. It was him that broke the look for the first time since we'd started the song by looking down at his guitar. It was a gut wrenching feeling to realize that was me being dismissed.

Swallowing carefully over the tears that felt like falling, I spun away on my heel, not looking back over my shoulder.

My steps were measured, but it was hard, I wanted to sprint away from that stage as fast as I could but I wouldn't dare with everyone here. They couldn't see that. Not my band, not Nick, not even Claire. So I held it together with deep breaths, ignoring the way that our little group had applauded and cheered the end of the song. I instead walked straight to where Nick was sitting, arm still slung over the back of my empty chair.

Behind me I heard the start to another song, and I would've loved to spin around on my heel to watch him play The Beaches song, but I was steadfast. Grabbing my bag, I looked at Nick whose expression had fallen at my approach, clearly seeing the issue there. "I want to go now," I said quickly, "I think now is okay."

There was only a split second where Nick glanced behind me to the stage, but he was quickly nodding as he drained his drink.

We left to the disappointment of our friends calling after us with Seth playing the soundtrack to our exit.

"I can't pretend that I'm an easy riddle. It's easier to break their necks than to deal with how they feel. Guess it's my cover that locks the door. Or maybe my need for comfort that keeps me turning away more. Maybe, maybe I'm gone. Maybe I'm a stoner, maybe I'm a loner. Maybe I'm cross, maybe I'm lost. Maybe I'm a loser, maybe I'm a keener. Maybe I'm gone."

The cab back to the apartment was quiet. Nick tried to start conversation, but I couldn't bring myself to keep it going. I was happier to press my forehead against the cool glass and watch the rain splatter over my city.

Nick was nothing if not patient, waiting until there were no witness that could tell our conversation to the tabloids. In fact he was careful enough to wait until the apartment door was shut behind us and we'd kicked off our shoes off in silence and hung our coats on the hooks on the wall.

In fact it wasn't until I was shuffling away, shoulders weighed down with the night, towards our bedroom. That was when he asked, "What was going on tonight, Keely?"

Sighing, I rubbed a hand over my forehead, considering playing innocent. The problem was that Nick didn't deserve that. "I told you that I saw Seth at my first show back," I said tiredly, "And that I told him I was with you and we needed to stop. What I didn't tell you was that he kissed me and told me that he loves me."

I turned around, figuring this was another thing that deserved eye contact, and it was just in time to see the colour drain from his face. There was that stabbing guilt in my stomach again. But I ignored it in favour of continuing, "I told him I didn't love him anymore. I chose you."

Nick opened his mouth as if to speak, but I silence him with a shake of the head.

"The thing is, we all know that's not true," I admitted the words aloud for the first time outside of a song. "I did choose you, and I'd choose you again. But you don't stop loving someone, not unless you never loved them in the first place. I'm gonna love him forever, Nick, just like I'm going to love you."

Not knowing what else could be said in that moment, I turned back around my heel and continued walking. I didn't go to the bedroom, though. Instead I walked to the music room and closed the door soundly behind me. 

- well. i'm not sure how that's going over, but hey, it didn't take a year this time, did it? i did say i was going to try and churn out a chapter before christmas. maybe i'll even get another one done. doubtful though.

not edited of goddamn course. but feel welcome to correct me as always, i hope you can imagine my disdain and rolling eyes when you do. 

i was trying to give seth's fanpage a little love, but everyone has disappeared. back in the day (admittedly when i used to update like once a week) that place was the best. i always liked stalking people's conversations and once in a while adding into them -