It was an abrasive noise that woke Keely the next morning.

Her eyes flew open in shock, but after a moment she realized the sound was knocking.

Loud, echoing, ceaseless – did she mention loud? – knocking.

Groaning Keely rolled from bed, taking the time to slip on a pair of Snoopy pyjama bottoms over her underwear before stumbling down the stairs, because no matter how tired she was answering the door in just underwear and a tank top didn't seem logical.

Swinging open the door, she spared a moment for surprise before groaning and smacking her forehead against the door frame. “Go away?” she suggested hopefully, peering up from where she leaned her head.

“Not a nice way to greet people,” Seth answered, casually brushing past her.

Scowling, Keely slammed the door shut with a flick of her wrist after him, not liking his simply walking in uninvited, it was becoming a habit of his. Spinning around on her bare heel, she crossed her arms over her chest and snapped, “Maybe I don't want to greet some people.”

“Ouch,” he responded, smirking broadly as he pressed his hands over his heart.

A thought occurred to her, and before she could stop herself, she blurted, “Are you drunk again?”

“No,” Seth snorted, “It's nine in the morning.”

Suddenly suspicious of his almost friendly, well, really, friendly behaviour, Keely could only remember her wish the night before. She had wished that she could have a pretend a pretend drunk Seth all the time. Moaning, she rubbed her palms over her eyes, muttering, “If I have some kind of genie out there, I change my mind. I want a twenty year old version of Johnny Depp in my bed instead.”

“Hm?” Seth asked, obviously not catching her words as he sent her a confused glance as he moved towards the kitchen of her hotel room.

Peeking between her fingers, Keely groaned, “Oh, great, you're still here.”

Snorting he began to open the cupboards in her little unused kitchen. “Yeah, and not liking to vanish into thin air yet.”

“Don't eat my food,” she snapped at him.

“You don't have any food.”

Rubbing her temples wearily, Keely asked the question that should have come to mind the moment she saw him standing in her doorway. “What the hell are you doing here, Ryan? Studio time isn't until eleven, it's nine.”

“Yeah, and you probably would've slept right through it,” he retorted.

“I don't do that, Seth. So why the hell are you waking me up after five hours of sleep when I could have gotten six and a half?”

Seeming to find her cabinets rather boring, he finally stopped looking through them in order to look back at her. “Oh, yeah, I cancelled the studio for the day.”

Feeling her eyes bulge, Keely stared at him incredulously, but the anger soon set in. “You mean to tell me,” she began dangerously slow, seething as she inched towards him. “That not only did I have to bail you out from jail last night, and wasn't able to sleep until almost four in the morning, but you woke me up even when you cancelled our studio time?”

For a moment Seth appeared to ponder her words, but then a grin slid onto his mouth, and he gave her a simply, “Yup.”

“You dumbass!” Keely exclaimed, just short of screeching as she punched him in the chest.

But when she pulled back to hit him a second time, Seth just rolled his eyes and grabbed her fist. “First punch is free,” he told her, pointing up at her with his other finger, “You're not going to get a second one, I promise you.”

Glowering, Keely decided to go the simple route and just say, “I really don't like you.”

“Uh huh,” he answered her breezily, finally letting go of her wrist, but only to put his hands on her shoulders and spin her around. “Like I haven't heard that one before, from about a billion other women. Now go get dressed, we've got to leave in a half an hour, rebel.”

“Don't call me that!”

“Just go get changed,” he ordered her, giving her a soft shove towards the stairs.

Sending him one last glare, Keely stalked up the stairs.

If she knew anything about the boy, he was stubborn, and she supremely doubted that he'd leave without her at this point. She may know next to nothing about everything going on with him, but she could sure about that at the very least.

But despite her irritation that was reaching astronomical levels at him for waking her up, for whatever reason she hadn't gotten, Keely could feel her interest peeking. It had to be a curse, this curiosity, because it wouldn't let her be. But still she wanted to know why he was in a good mood, because obviously he wasn't being the same serious Seth she was used to, although he'd taken the careless Seth from the night before down a notch. He was joking with her, smirking and grinning, maybe not smiling, but still.

Her newest theory about him was that he was bipolar, that had to be it. Because if he wasn't, Keely just didn't understand. He could smile at her one moment, scowl the next, glare at her, make a joke, ask her if she was okay, tell her that her song was crap then stand up for her music, look depressed and wounded enough to bring her close to tears and then he could put up this wall.

That had to be the problem that she just didn't understand. Him or anything about him. Nothing she thought she knew was true about him, there was always a dead end or a new bend for her to take when it came to him, and it wasn't as if he was exactly open.

Sighing she went to her drawers, grabbing comfortable clothes hurriedly. She really wanted to know what was going on with him.

In the bathroom she just pulled on a pair of her habitual torn jeans, a black tank top and an incredibly soft grey ballerina sweater that fell off her shoulders. Usually the sweater was the one she wore when she was feeling sick, it being so comfortable, but she figured being sleep deprived and sick was almost the same thing.

Only glancing in the mirror long enough to brush her teeth and grimace at her dishevelled appearance, she hurried out, dragging socks on clumsily as she did.

But as she walked down the stairs, forcing herself to slow, Keely scowled down at him.

Only a fool would believe Seth would listen to anything she said. He was standing in front of her music, his eyes passing over each spine carefully while he munched on the bowl of cereal held in his hands.

“Didn't I tell you not to eat my food?” she asked, shaking her head.

His eyes darted away from the music collection that looked overwhelmingly quaint next to the one she could remember from his apartment, and he blinked at her for a second. “Well, I thought I could eat it before you were done getting ready. Aren't girls supposed to take like hours upon hours to get dressed?”

Keely snorted, plopping down on the stairs so she could pull on her sneakers. “Since your girlfriend is Rachael Gosling, I can't really hold those words against you, can I?”

“No, you really can't,” he murmured softly enough for her to look up at him.

Yet Seth was just looking back at the music, shovelling the cereal into his mouth. Sighing she stood up, just in time for him to take a CD from it's slot, flipping it over in his hand so he could look at the back.

Strolling over to him, Keely peeked around him to see it was her John Butler Trio album Three.

“This is the only one I don't have from them,” Seth observed, shaking it slightly in his hand as he looked back to her over his shoulder.

She couldn't help but smirk at him triumphantly. “Ha, I have a CD you don't!”

Rolling his eyes, he slipped it back into its slot. “Yeah, but I'm going to get a vinyl copy.”

“I doubt that.”

“Watch me,” he answered cockily, turning around so Keely had to take a hasty step back at the close proximity.

“I'd rather not,” Keely returned, sending him a tight smile that didn't show her teeth.

Giving her a little one armed shrug, Seth brushed past her to go back to the kitchen.

Unable to help herself again – curiosity should be labelled as a disease – she traced his footsteps back towards the kitchen. As he rinsed out his now empty bowl, she asked, “So are you ever going to tell me what you're doing?”

“Nope,” he replied simply, sending her a little grin as he stuffed his pockets into his navy blue sweater and walking away. “You coming?” he asked when having reached the door.

Shaking her head, Keely grumbled a, “Yeah,” before snatching up her bag and following him.

When they reached the elevator at the end of the hall, she leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms in front of her as she looked at him suspiciously. “So if you're not drunk, are you high? Because you're in much too good of a mood.”

“Ah, rebel, you know nothing about me, do you?” Seth replied easily, pressing for the lobby.

Ten minutes later found them sitting in his car as Keely asked, “Where are we going?”

Seth groaned verbosely, scraping his hand over his face. “If you ask me that one more time, I swear to god I'm going to throw you out of this car.”

The smirk bloomed across her mouth on its own accord as she glanced over to the driver's side towards Seth, she was at least going to annoy him, it was her right after he messed up with her sleep pattern. “Aw and here I was thinking we were becoming best friends forever!” she said, making her voice sarcastically peppy as she clapped her hands.

Snorting he sent her an amused look before ripping the steering wheel around with one hand so fast that it stole a gasp from her mouth. Peering out towards the sidewalk beside his parallel parking job Keely realized at the very least the boy could drive.

Letting out a loud breath, she looked out of the window.

“Seriously?!” she exclaimed, not even bothering to pause before she punched him in the shoulder. “The warehouse?! You woke me up after five freaking hours of sleep to take me here? I'm here all the time!”

Grinning at her, Seth hastily pushed open his door. “Violent, aren't me, rebel?”

Glaring daggers at him, Keely followed his motion only to speak sharply at him over the roof of the car. “Only when people deserve it.”

“And I had to go into anger management classes in juvie.”

That was enough to distract her. “Huh?”

“Nothing, c'mon,” he answered her casually, skirting around the hood.

But Keely wasn't moving, did he just say he was in juvenile hall? It had to be a while before, after all, he hadn't been a minor for three years. That was something she hadn't expected to come out of his mouth, not only because he wasn't the sharing type, but because she'd thought she'd have heard about it from the magazines he was on the cover of every second day. The paparazzi when crazy when he was seen at a club, how come she'd never heard him about being in juvie?

Sighing, Seth hooked his arm around her neck, pulling her towards the warehouse across the street as it became obvious she wasn't moving on her own. “You should stop thinking so hard sometimes, you're brain is just going tap out one day. Plus,” he added, tapping her between the brows again, “You're going to get wrinkles.”

Frowning at him, Keely slapped his hand away, she wasn't liking the fact that the tapping her between the eyes was getting to be a habit as well.

“Juvie?” she asked, tipping her head back to look at him.

Yet he didn't meet her eyes, instead kept looking straight ahead, replying with a noncommittal, “Uh huh.”

Sighing Keely too looked forward, no, she was not getting anything out of him, he had that familiar guarded look over his eyes whenever they breached subjects he didn't want to talk about. “So now are you going to tell me why we're at the warehouse?”

Abruptly he grinned, looking down at her. “I'm making up for last night.”

“And here I was expecting jewelry and chocolate,” Keely retorted sardonically.

“Well, I'm sure you could use one of the amp cords as a necklace, and there will definitely be chocolate inside.” Finally letting go of his grip around her neck, Seth stepped forward to the door, the garage one this time, and flung it open.

That was when she caught sight of Colton sprawled across one of the rugs while Marco was rummaging through the fridge.

A relieved smile spread across her face, because while Seth seemed to be in a freakishly good mood, she still wasn't sure if they could get through the day without strangling each other. “He made you two get up too?”

Colton laughed, not bothering to look up at her as he threw a tennis ball in the air then caught it before repeating the action over again. “No, we're usually up by ten most days, unlike some people.”

Rolling her eyes, Keely dropped her bag on the ground before heading to the couch. Knocking Colton's feet off the couch, she took up residence on the edge, crossing her legs in front of her. “You're one pathetic rock star,” she informed him, letting out a loud laugh as Colton threw the tennis ball at her.

Her eyes travelled over to Marco, just in time to witness Seth smack him in the back of the head. As if on cue, the boy beside her stood up as well, groaning slightly as he stretched. And grabbing the drum sticks that he'd apparently stuck in the back pocket of his jeans.

Keely let out a loud snort when she saw Colton take his seat at the drums and both Seth and Marco grab a guitar from the wall, though the latter grabbed a bass, and plugged the instruments into amplifiers. “This is your making up for me having to bail you out of holding?” she asked, “You're playing a song for me?”

Seth sent her a cheeky grin, slipping the guitar strap over his shoulder. “Yeah, and you're going to love it. Trust me.”

“Never,” Keely answered.

But despite her words, she already knew she was going to love it. She loved to watch the boys preform, hell, she liked to watch any of them perform by themselves, evidence in her becoming slack jawed the night before while Seth played Iris. Yet watching them play together was a whole different experience, it was more like a present than anything else.

Sending her one last confident glance, Seth turned back to his friends. Colton counted them off, and the first words paired with the explosion of sound had her laughing loudly.

“She's a rebel

She's a saint

She's salt of the earth

And she's dangerous.”

Laughing, Keely buried her hands into her palms, but she looked back up to them playing, because she couldn't stand to know that they were playing in front of her and she wasn't watching. Smiling broadly, she watched as they played the upbeat song perfectly, moving around with each other easily.

“She's a rebel,

Vigilante,

Missing link on the brink of destruction,

From Chicago,

To Toronto,

She's the one that they call old whatshername,

She's the symbol,

Of resistance,

And she's holding on my heart like a hand grenade,

Is she dreaming,

What I'm thinking?

Is she the mother of all bombs gonna detonate?

Is she trouble,

Like I'm trouble?

Make it a double twist of fate or a melody that

she sings the revolution,

The dawning of our lives,

She brings this liberation,

That I just can't define,

Well nothing comes to mind

She sings the revolution,

The dawning of our lives,

She brings this liberation,

That I just can't define,

Well nothing comes to mind

She's a rebel,

She's a saint,

She's the salt of the earth,

And she's dangerous,

She's a rebel,

Vigilante,

Missing link on the brink,

Of destruction

She's a rebel,

She's a saint,

She's the salt of the earth,

And she's dangerous,

She's a rebel,

Vigilante,

Missing link on the brink,

Of destruction

She's a rebel, she's a rebel, she's a rebel

and she's dangerous

She's a rebel, she's a rebel, she's a rebel

and she's dangerous.”

“Okay, you were right,” Keely admitted grudgingly when the song had ended with Colton's drumming, all three boys panting slightly.

Seth arched an eyebrow at her knowingly, and she just sent a scowl his way even though the music that had just faded was still trying to make her smile, he'd known she would like the song. And despite the fact she was happy that she got to see NSR perform some real music again, she couldn't help the annoyance at his cocky expression.

“C'mon,” he told her, tipping his head to the side in a classic come hither motion.

Frowning slightly at him in confusion, Keely untangled her legs and pushed off the couch as he swung his guitar around to his back.

Yet he just turned away from her, strolling casually to the guitar racks.

Following at him, she continued to watch in bewilderment as Seth stared at his collection of guitars thoughtfully. But then he grabbed a guitar by the neck, and shoved it into her hands gruffly as if it was nothing.

But her mouth has dropped open as she stared in almost wonderment at the guitar in her hands.

“We'll do a Black Sabbath song,” Seth told her, looking amused, “Play something loud.”

“You're letting me play this guitar?” Keely asked slowly, still not having caught on.

He just rolled his eyes. “You think I haven't seen you drooling over it?”

She didn't even bother to be annoyed at him, not when the guitar was in her hands, because it was true, she had been drooling over it. The Stratocaster with the sixties feel, black around the edges, slowly turning into a wood colour becoming a white pickguard, it even had the fifty seven and sixty two pick ups. Yes, she had been drooling over the guitar.

Coming out of her shock, she gave a blindingly bright smile, slipping the plain black guitar strap over her shoulder.

*

Lazily Keely stretched on the couch, holding her hands above her head as she gave a little moan. Since it was now bridging close to ten at night, she figured she was allowed to be tired.

At the sound of Colton's voice, she tipped her head back against the cushions so she could see him. “Okay, I'm heading out. I need to sleep sometime soon or else I'm going to get torn to pieces by Ms Jones tomorrow morning.”

“And he's my drive,” proclaimed Marco, tapping Keely's socked feet as he stood up from his end of the couch.

“See you later,” Keely yawned, covering her mouth.

When she heard the door of the warehouse close, she let her eyes fall closed again. Oh, she was running much too low on sleep. Feeling the end of the couch near her feet tip down again, Keely didn't bother to open her eyes, there was only one other person left in the warehouse with her. “I hope you know if you try to wake me up now you're putting yourself in mortal danger,” she mumbled sleepily.