“Oh, go to hell already,” Keely mumbled, hiding her head under the covers.

Thankfully the AC/DC song Highway To Hell cut off, and she breathed a sigh of relief, slouching back into the bed.

She was much too tired to so much as roll over on the bed, she could barely hide her head in the pillow. Anyways the bed was much too comforting to even considering getting off of. In the silence Keely could find her whole body relaxing, drifting closer to sleep.

But the bloody song started up again.

Her eyes snapped open, glaring at the pillows cushioning around her head. For the first time in her life, she was very much wishing that Angus Young would just stop playing the guitar and be quiet for a minute. Hoping to out last the music that was suddenly grating on her throbbing head, Keely buried her head deeper into the blankets and pillows.

Yet it was of no use. Her heartbeat was moving back to a normal pace, a sure sign that sleep was now fleeing from her body. It was a very sad moment, indeed.

Not bothering to climb from her neatly built tangle of pillows and blankets she was hiding underneath in the middle of the bed, she flung her hand out to the bedside table, slamming her hand on the phone before dragging it towards her.

Silencing Brian Johnson, she pressed the phone to her ear. “Hello?” she asked groggily, her voice that was slightly hoarse from the performance the night before was muffled by the blankets.

““I used to get high for a living, believing everything I saw on the TV”.”

Keely paused stupidly, she was sure those were song lyrics. “Huh?”

“Get up.”

When her finally managed to catch up to her the conversation, she realized it could only be Seth on the other line, his voice really didn't need any introduction. “I don't want to get up,” she retorted, snuggling her face into the pillows.

“Too bad, time to get up.”

Moaning grudgingly, Keely rolled over, finally pushing the pillow away that had covered her head so she could see the ceiling, but not moving her nest of blankets. “How did you know I was sleeping?”

“I'm psychic,” his voice responded dryly over the line. “Now, seriously, get up. You need to come down to the warehouse.”

She whined, “But I'm tired!”

“Not my fault?”

“Not your fault?” Keely snorted disbelieving. “Of course it's your fault! You and the stupid, idiotic NS to your R! Because of you three I didn't even get home until eight in the morning. I deserve my sleep, Ryan!”

He groaned, “Oh, c'mon, rebel. It's nine o'clock right now. You've had thirteen hours of sleep, you're making all musicians seem bad now.”

Instantly she shoved herself up onto her elbows so she could peek over the blankets to steal a glance at the alarm clock on her bedside table, and it just proved that Seth wasn't lying. “Why do I need to go down to the warehouse?” she conceded.

“You'll see, but be there by ten.”

Hearing that tell tale click that told her clearly that Seth had just disconnected their call, Keely groaned and tossed her phone to the end of the bed, flopping down back on the cushions again. Her limbs were feeling comfortably lethargic and, honestly, getting up seemed like just too much work at the moment. Yes, thirteen hours of sleep was more than enough for a normal person, but the set she'd played combined with hanging out with the boys until the sun rose had more than taken all her energy away.

Still, that god damned curiosity was coming back, it really was a disease! Why on earth did they need her at the warehouse? Today was their day off after the show, they hadn't booked the studio or anything. Did the boys have something to show her? So far everything that band had shown her had been easily good things, so that did not help with her inquisitiveness.

She groaned again, but this time she did climb out of the middle of the bed, tumbling off the edge.

Her first action was to go turn on the shower until it steamed up the bathroom, and stripping out of her pyjamas, stepped inside to wash off all reminisce of the night before.

Although she'd complained to Seth and it had screwed with her sleep pattern in a major way, not to mention leaving her with that foggy lethargic feeling that slowed her brain, Keely wouldn't take the previous night back for anything.

The performance in itself had been amazing. First off, she'd never known something could go so smoothly for her – even including song mix ups – in her life! She'd loved seeing her music reflected in the eyes of the people in the crowd, seeing the smiles, even some respect along with hearing the people cheer and clap. She'd loved every moment of it. Sharing her mic with Seth or Marco as they sang back up for her, leaning her back against one of them as they played, hooking her arm around Colton's neck at the back of the stage, or leaning back slightly holding the microphone stand away from her as she hit a more difficult note.

But the time after they'd left The Chrome Palace was almost as fun, if less magical, for her as they walked the streets of New York City, thankfully leaving Rachael behind. Keely loved how the city could be bustling with life but at the same time have a sereneness that could only be found at night. Yes, she loved the night, it had never scared her, even as a child.

They'd eaten hot dogs from a stand, Marco flicking mustard in Colton's face, making her and Seth laugh, but they were soon chastised by the man behind the cart, and were sent on their way, hot dogs in hand. They'd watched an acrobat do tricks on a street that had been closed down, and seen a street performer on another section of closed off road, sat on the sidewalks in Times Square, the boys mocking people while she laughed, sang Sweet Emotion loudly as they walked down an empty street and were yelled at to shut up, caught a late Broadway show, and stood on the roof of Marco's apartment building where Marco and Colton yelled at innocent people, they'd been asked for their autographs repeatedly, and Keely signed her first of many that night.

And at the very end of their celebration night out after her debut New York set, they'd watched the sunrise over the city on a bride in Central Park, the sun reflecting prettily on the buildings.

No, she wouldn't be giving back that night anytime soon.

Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a fluffy towel around her hastily and, yawning, continued with getting ready.

Not knowing what was waiting her at the warehouse, Keely just dried her hair, leaving it in messy waves around her shoulders. Hastily she pulled on a pair of her jeans that had a rip in the knee and the thigh, a plain white v neck shirt beneath her black leather jacket.

Just grabbing her bag, Keely continued to yawn all the way down to the lobby.

“Keely!” said Mr Englis in surprise from behind his counter in the marble lobby. “I didn't think you'd be about today.”

Sending him a small smile, she answered, “I wish I wasn't,” before leaving the hotel.

When she got out of her cab, quite used to the incredulous looks she received from the cab drivers by then, Keely looked around incredulously at the street surrounding the warehouse. It was crowded with cars, all the way from expensive sports cars to pieces of crap that looked like if you started the engine something would fall off.

Frowning slightly, Keely hastily crossed the road as always. Avoiding the garage door since she thought that would just get a lot of attention when she'd like to get her bearings before making a grand entrance, she turned the doorknob testing, but it swung open. For the first time she found the warehouse crowded with people, a few of them she knew but only because she'd seen them on the covers of magazines.

Standing dumbfounded, she let the door slam behind her. But no one so much as glanced in her direction, the sound of the door shutting having been swallowed by the loud thumping music and the chatter between everyone. With wide eyes she tried to take in the scene around her. There were rock musicians, actors, photographers, artists, an indie band she recognized not to mention idolized, and the list went on and on until it became people she'd never so much as seen. The only people she knew from in person were a few people from the studio, members from her new back up band, The Cavern Jets, were scattered, she could see Marco digging through the fridge unsurprisingly – the boy was a bottomless pit and Seth was talking to a few people over by the guitars.

There were so many people crowded comfortably into the warehouse, all doing different things and her head was starting to reel. The bassist and drummer from a band named The Blind Tramps were tossing a football back and forth, she had bought their sophomore album because it had a more punk sound instead of the pop sound mixed with emo that their first one had. A woman was video taping the room, and Keely knew her name was Susan Webster, because she had seen a brilliant short film from her at a festival she and Haley had gone to in Seattle years before The list of people kept going until it made her dizzy.

Music was pumping out of the speakers spaced around the room, but Keely didn't recognized the band with the slightly heavy bass line that was playing, but that didn't mean she didn't like it. She could only wonder if it was Seth who was supplying the music.

“You look a little lost.”

Giving a sigh of relief at the familiar voice, Keely leaned comfortably against Colton as he slipped an arm around her shoulders. “I feel like someone hit me in the head and gave be a concussion, actually.”

Chuckling, Colton pulled her away from her safe refuge by the door and dragged her forward into the crowd in the warehouse. Instantly he shoved a beer bottle in her hands, and not hesitating – mostly because it was Colton – she took a swing from it. After all, it was just a beer, plus she needed help in dulling the urge to go psycho fan girl on some of the musicians in the room.

Very calmly, keeping his arm around her, Colton began to introduce her to the people through the room. It was a surreal experience, at least for her, meeting all these people, most of them proving to be artists of some kind, whether it might be for music or sculpture. Keely had to admit it was true what people said about New York City, it really was the centre of creativity in America. Although she did meet more than a few people who had nothing to do with the art scene at all, one of them was apparently in the NHL.

It was even more surreal when some of those people recognized her, and said they'd heard For You and loved it. At those points Keely had to take a big swing from her bottle to stop herself from becoming a stuttering fool.

Oddly she didn't mind mingling with these people, who were all friends of NSR – she was told so by Colton – conversing with them was easy. Unlike the parties back in Bellingham, she had something in common with all these people, they weren't just jocks rambling on about the latest football game or cheerleaders talking about their shoes, even the couple models and fashion designers in the room didn't talk about clothes. She chatted about music with some, art with others, even spoke about horses, the latest movie she had seen, her favourite album that had come out that year, what it was like to perform in front of people. It was so refreshing to converse with people at a party and actually say something.

And even after Colton dropped his arm and left her side, Keely didn't find herself alone for even a moment. Standing in the middle of the crowd, every time a person was drawn into a different conversation, another person would walk up and introduce themselves. At odd moments she could swear she felt someone's gaze boring into her back, but every time she turned around, there was no one to be seen.

Glancing over the shoulder of the guy she was speaking to, she caught sight of Seth. He was standing to the side of the party, to the right of an amp and right beside the stone wall, scowling down at something that looked like a portable soundboard as he twisted a dial. There was a slight crease between his dark brows, a look she recognized from when he was in the studio and was trying to figure out what needed to be done for a song.

Excusing herself apologetically from the conversation about why L.A. Woman was a much better album than The Soft Parade with the lead guitarist, Jordan, of the Cavern Jets, she cut through the crowd.

Leaning against the wall, Keely found herself sandwiched between him and the wall, and she took a gulp from the bottle, asking, “What is all this?”

“Hm?” blinked Seth, looking up from the soundboard and noticing her presence for the first time, the scowl left his face as he looked at her, only to be replaced by an unreadable expression. “You're sounding a little rough there, rebel,” he told her, taking the bottle away from her hand and taking a swing.

Unconsciously Keely raised her fingers to her neck. “Yeah, everything took its toll, I probably would have been fine had I not gone screaming around the city with you lot afterwards.”

Snorting he took another sip, looking back down to the board and turning a knob.

“So are you going to answer my question?” she prodded, tugging her bottle back from his hand.

“What – oh, yeah. Well, since the tour isn't that far away, we decided to have a get together with most of our friends before we left. I would've asked Tyler to come so you could become all little fan girl-” he smirked making Keely glare at him “- but he's still on the road right now. But the original reason was your idea in the first place.”

Losing the glower on her face, her expression slid into one of confusion, raking her memory for an idea as she stared, asking blankly, “What?”

Casually he took the beer back from her hand, she didn't even bother to try and resist, before answering. “I was talking to you about our new album and getting different fans so our album doesn't flop, you said release a song for free over the internet.”

“And you thought it was a stupid idea...”

“No,” he corrected instantly, shaking his head, “No, I didn't. I thought Ms Jones would never agree with giving away a song for free, but you had the solution, we'd do a cover.”

Frowning, Keely asked, “But how are you going to do it?”

“Ye of little faith,” Seth sighed, making Keely grin as he handed her back the bottle so he could turn his full attention back to the board. “We're recording it here, it'll be really raw and rough, but there will be a good energy for it with us playing together, it'll be like all of The Doors' Morrison Hotel album, but we only get one try. I'll set up the board and Brett – you've met him at the studio before, he's another producer – will look after it while we play. Plus we're going to release a video for it, that should help too.”

Something clicked in her mind, and Keely pointed the bottle at him slightly, saying, “Susan Webster.”

“Yeah,” agreed Seth, looking up at her from the board grinning. “She's a good friend of Marco's and agreed to do it for us as a favour, by the way she's going to film your first music video.”

The beer sloshed over the edges of the bottle and onto the floor as Keely's hand jerked while she exclaimed, “And you waited to tell me that until now?! What's the idea about it? Oh god, I don't have to act, do I? I'm a terrible actor.”

Seth laughed, shaking his head at her. “Don't worry about it, no acting... this time. It's just going to be you performing, she was taping all the show last night, and little clips from other times to put in. We've been ordered to give all videos we have of you to her in case she wants to use it. And she'll be invading our studio because she think it'll be good to get a few shots of you in there. Don't worry,” he repeated, “It'll all work out, she's a brilliant film maker from what I've seen.”

Hauling in a sigh of relief, Keely could feel the panic inside her body subsiding. That wouldn't be so bad, she was just scared she might have to cry for some reason during some really dramatic three minute long soap opera. Yes, she's cried while playing a song before, even if it wasn't her own music, but that was different. Those times she'd been one hundred percent invested in the music, just letting herself go where ever the song brought her, and letting her feel everything it gave her. Music was all about emotion, so she wasn't going to deny any piece of it.

Having been so caught up in her own thoughts, when Keely finally looked back at Seth, she blinked bewildered seeing the guitar strap that he had around him, holding the Stratocaster to him. He was looking at her expectantly, his hair rumpled as always.

“Um...” she mumbled, looking at him sheepishly.

“You just went into your own head for a couple minutes there,” Seth laughed, taking the beer from her hands one final time and draining it. “Now, go away.”

That caused her mouth to drop, “What?”

Laughing again, Seth dropped the bottle on top of one of the speakers, hooking an arm around her neck casually so he could drag her away from the wall. “Not literally, rebel, just go stand over there, we've got to record this song.”

Shaking her head slightly to gain her wits back, she slipped out from beneath his arm and went to stand with the crowd that was forming around the little floor that the boys always used for their practice space. Marco and Colton hastily escaped the crowd, the former knocking his shoulder lightly against Seth's and Colton just did a passing hand shake that could be more considered a clap. Brett, who she did recognize from the studio, had moved to the soundboard, slipping headphones over his ears, but Keely noticed he didn't so much as touch the board.

Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jeans, Keely turned her gaze away from Brett back to the boys. Marco was just strapping on his bass while Colton was grabbing his drumsticks, the music pumping through the speakers had been cut off and the crowd was waiting for them to start playing eagerly. Looking away from the crowd, Keely met Seth's eyes eyes as he straightened the guitar in front of him, when she smiled at him, he returned it, the dimple showing in his cheek.

Looking down at his guitar, as usual Colton counted them off, but it was Seth who started playing. Instantly Keely recognized Fleetwood Mac's Go Your Own Way, after all she had listened to Rumours more times than should be humanly possible.

“Loving you

Isn't the right thing to do

How can I

Ever change things that I feel?

If I could

Maybe I'd give you my world

How can I

When you won't take it from me?”

Shaking her head, Keely smiled broadly as she watched the boy's. Seth's eyes went slightly unfocused as he played, hitting every note and chord perfectly. In that moment she doubted she'd enjoyed listening to anyone sing more than him, he put so much passion into every word, no one would be able to doubt that he meant every word he said.

Then there was Colton in the back who was hitting everything perfectly in time, his foot tapping along. Marco was joining in for the back up singing as he played, he had a nice voice, but it was nothing compared to Seth's.