Montreal, Quebec.

“Do you even know how to play?”

“Hm?” Keely asked, chewing on her fingernail as she looked up from the cards in her hand. “Oh, what?”

Colton rolled his eyes, tapping his hand on the table rhythmically and repeated, “Do you even know how to play?”

Letting out a loud snort she leaned back, resting her head against the chilly window behind her, the chilly winter wind whipping past on the outside of the moving bus. “Does it matter if I know how to play or not?”

“Yes, yes, it does!” piped up Marco indignantly.

Chuckling quietly to herself, she shoved the boy lightly with her foot from her position with her back against the wall and Marco sitting on the same side of the booth as she. Holding her feet up on the bench beside him, she replied, “We're playing poker for candy, boys, I think I can handle losing my share of the twizzlers until we get to Montreal.”

“Twizzlers are a precious commodity on this bus,” interjected Colton, infusing his voice with enough sincerity that she burst out laughing. But when she glanced back to him, he kept staring at her with that serious look, telling her clearly that he wasn't joking.

Hastily Keely looked back down at the hand of cards spaced evenly between her fingers, beginning to chew on her nail again. She'd never played Texas hold 'em in her life, and the boys really weren't the best teachers she'd ever met. How was she supposed to know what the three kings and two fours meant? The closest she'd ever come to cards like this was when she'd been in math class and doing probability, that's where her knowledge ended.

“Are you in or are you out?” burst out the boy beside her.

Jolting slightly, Keely hastily put her hand face down on the table, she couldn't bluff her way through the whole game. “I'm out,” she declared, leaning back more comfortably against the wall, her feet staying on the bench.

Marco said some words that might as well have been Russian for her before throwing three of his twizzlers into the pile that was continuously growing in the middle of the table.

“I'm out,” added Seth.

Instantly her eyes flickered towards him from where he sat on the opposite side beside Colton, and she could feel that familiar tensing in her stomach that she had always associated with puking, guilt or tears. But she wasn't sure which one she was feeling. He shoved up from the seat, his eyes meeting hers and Keely just hastily looked to Colton, brushing hair from her eyes.

Why should she care that his eyes had deepened shadows beneath them like she hadn't seen since she'd first met the boys? She really didn't.

Focusing back on Colton who was now tossing five twizzlers into the pile, she tapped her fingers restlessly on her knee clad in black yoga pants. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw Seth move to the black and white Stratocaster that he'd abandoned on the couch when it was announced that they were playing a game of poker.

It was hard, but Keely hastily looked back to the game. Still a stupid macho match of glaring at each other over the tops of their cards couldn't hold her interest, and she found herself looking back to Seth where he was slipping the strap of the guitar over his shoulder.

Ignoring the deepening feeling in her stomach, she fixed her shoulders so she could have a better view around Marco who was leaning forward glaring at Colton. Seth's dark hair was mussed and messy, but it was his eyes that caught her attention again, they were much more shadowed and bruised than should be allowed.

All of them being shoved into the bus, it would be hard to not notice each others habits, and she could say that he usually wasn't in bed when she went to bed, but he was always there in the morning. Still she was pretty good at ignoring Seth as best as she could, so Keely couldn't say if he was actually sleeping in the mornings when she woke, all she knew was that he was in his bunk. Sure, they were all suffering from skewed sleeping patterns with the tour, but he was looking much more tired than anyone else.

As he plugged the guitar into his travelling amp Keely unseeingly picked up one of the little boxes of Chinese food that were spread around the table carelessly. Using the chop sticks to pop a dumpling her mouth, she just kept watching as he began to test out the strings playing short bars from different songs as he warmed up his hands.

Still a grin tugged at the edges of her mouth when she heard the tell tale beginning to Layla. As she watched, eating the food thoughtlessly, Seth didn't once sing a word to the song, instead just playing the guitar track that she'd always wished she could see Eric Clapton play live. Even if it was obvious he was tired, literal drop to the floor and pass out tired, and his song writing was stalled, he could still play the guitar as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him.

“... Keely?”

“What?” asked she sharply, her eyes darting back to Marco who was looking at her bewildered.

Sharing that confused look with Colton, he looked back to her and asked, “Can we see what you had?”

Arching an eyebrow at him, Keely popped another dumpling into her mouth, sending him a cheeky little smile. “Isn't that supposed to be against the rules of said game?”

“We were playing for candy,” reminded Marco.

Colton exclaimed, “Hey!”

Chuckling, she just flipped over her cards carelessly. What did she care about it anyways? But when she heard identical groans from both of the boys she felt her eyebrows draw together, looking between them. “What?”

“You had a full house.”

Shrugging she just put the white container back onto the table. “And that means something to me?”

“Well, it should!” put in Colton.

Smirking at him, Keely anchored her hands, one flat on the table and one on the back of the couch, using it to swing her up to a crouching position her feet. “Well, it doesn't. And now since it's four in the morning, I'm going to go pass out,” she announced, standing up fully and stepping over Marco before dropping lightly to the floor on her socked feet.

When she skirted past Seth wordlessly, she didn't miss the chord that he skipped over or just missed. Confused, she glanced back over her shoulder.

But with a shrug she just kept moving back to the bunks. As she pulled out a pair of shorts and a baggy concert shirt, the bus suddenly to turned, causing her to stumble slightly back into the other bunks.

And with just enough time, she sent a look over to the boys, hearing three voices perfectly chorus, “Shit!” As she watched, Seth stumbled back a step, this time really messing up his playing as his knees hit the seat of the couch and knocked him down to a sitting position. At the same point she saw the pile of twizzlers that had been sitting on top of the table slid straight off to the ground.

Laughing to herself, she just moved to the back of the bus to change, not waiting for their reactions.

Ottawa, Ontario.

With her guitar on her lap, Keely sat facing Marco who was in turn holding his acoustic bass.

Finishing her practice of one of the songs from her album she'd be playing in the next show, Keely leaned back comfortably.

“You guys done already?” called Colton from where he sat, fiddling with the portable radio.

Scowling, Seth snatched it from his hands. “You're just going to break it,” he told the other boy.

“Yeah, we're done,” answered Keely leaning over to flip through the book that was laying carelessly on the couch in front of her feet. “I've done these songs about a million times between everything by now and I don't want to screw with my voice anymore.”

“Good point... Now you're going to break it!” exclaimed Colton ripping the radio back.

Rolling her eyes, Keely looked back to Marco. “They do realize that they can just use the radio that is hooked up through the whole bus, don't they?”

He smirked, playing a few chords from where he sat. “I don't actually now.”

“We're surrounded by genius',” she muttered.

Tossing the book back to where it had been laying, Keely turned her attention back to the guitar that was lying on top of her where she laid back on the sleek couch. But she just played a few chords, thinking absently about the show ahead. She could feel some nerves jingling around in her stomach but that was normal, it was nothing compared to what she'd felt during her first stadium show. The nerves would never go away completely, but they were already lessening.

Hearing the sound of a song she knew, Keely grinned up at Marco. “Come Together?” she questioned.

He nodded, continuing to pluck the chords.

Smiling, she rested her head back down, hearing the sound of Colton and Seth bickering, but it felt far away. “If any boy played me a Beatles song I think I'd fall in love with him in a moment,” she observed thoughtfully.

“Well, I was playing the Areosmith version,” Marco chuckled, “But for you.”

“Beatles version is better,” she grinned, “The original is always the best.”

They lapsed into silence, listening to the strong bass that was playing in the bus, even the bickering had stopped. Abruptly Marco asked jokingly, “In love with me yet?”

Laughing loudly, Keely kicked him lightly in the leg. “You know what? It must only work with a select few that don't involve you.”

Toronto, Ontario.

Her fingers and wrists were a bit sore, but Keely wasn't thinking about that, nor the rusty feeling in her throat. She figured that there were some things you just had to learn how to ignore and move past, and when you were a musician, those were some of the things.

Instead of singing words she simply sang the notes, playing the acoustic guitar that fit in her lap naturally.

Letting her hand fall away from their easy position on the neck, she leaned forward, picking up the pen on the little table. Chewing on her bottom lip she hastily scraped the pen across the paper, the notes looking a bit messy, but written down all the same.

With the slight change, Keely began strumming again, singing the notes due to a lack of words.

Her foot keep her rhythm as she played, and even when the door of her dressing room opened, she didn't look up.

She only looked up when Keely cut off playing abruptly with a scowl, leaning forward to scratch the notes she'd written down. And she probably scratched them out with a bit too much force before she glanced upwards.

“Oh, hey,” she said, smiling slightly up at Marissa.

The girl returned the smile brightly, and saying, “Hi!” sat on the edge of the chair across from Keely, putting her hands on her knees.

“You almost ready to go on for your set?” asked Keely, eyeing the outfit that her friend was wearing. Anyone could be sure that she wouldn't ever wear the same outfit of tight white spandex on stage, especially with the neckline that dipped farther than dangerously low, even past her bra that was showing.

Marissa smirked, “I'm in my stage persona, aren't I?”

“That you are,” replied she, beginning to strum and sing the notes again. But something was off, and she had to stop again.

“You're voice is sounding a little rough,” observed Marissa.

“It's just being on the road,” Keely explained absently.

Leaning forward over her guitar again, she wrote out a bar. Yet when she played and hummed the progression, the music sounded wrong. Frowning again, she scribbled roughly over the black writing.

Hopefully she looked up at Marissa. Well, why not give it a try? “Can you help my with lyrics?”

The girl laughed loudly, but then blinked at her. “Oh, you were serious? God, Keely, you know you don't want my help. I haven't written songs since I was a kid, and they were crappy then. There's only one good song on my album, and you wrote it.”

Giving a sigh, Keely rubbed her hands over her face, leaning her elbows on top of the guitar's body. “I suck right now.”

“No, you don't,” said Marissa, gaining that tone Keely always associated with wise men that had long beards. “Keel, you really don't. Not everybody can write their own music and perform it, a lot can only do one.”

Grinning slightly, she leaned her head against her palm, messing up her hair. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Before Marissa could respond, the door of her clustered change room was swung open, only to reveal Colton peeking his head inside. The bronze curls spilling out onto his forehead were damp from the sweat that poured over all of their foreheads when they'd been on stage, but his blue eyes didn't look tired at all from the exertion.

That was a thing Keely learnt about performing; it didn't matter how long since you'd slept or how much physical energy it had stolen away from you, getting off stage you kept the remnants of the high that had you going during the show. It was hard to get rid of it, and when it was leaving, you had no idea what was coming until it hit you. Already she'd found herself randomly passed out on the couch of the bus because she hadn't had time to get into her bunk before sleep hit.

“Your dad is about to shit himself,” proclaimed Colton roughly, “You're on in like two minutes, Marissa.”

Arching an eyebrow in her direction, Marissa shoved herself up from her seat. “And that's my cue to leave,” she announced, turning on her heel. She paused to give Colton a kiss on the cheek before slipping past him, obviously with the stage in mind.

“And we're leaving,” Colton continued, looking at Keely.

Nodding hastily, Keely closed up her sound book, put her guitar in the case and was ready to go. She was getting better at leaving quickly by then.

Following him silently through the weaving halls that lead them to the back of the stadium, she hummed the song she was working on under her breath. Mentally every time she hummed it she would change a note in her head, nothing could work for longer than one run through and she'd change it immediately.

Dumping her things on the long couch at the door of the bus, she frowned, and moved forward to where she could see Marco digging through the fridge. “Hey, Stevenson,” she called, “I need a little help.”

“No!” he exclaimed, straightening so quickly he smacked his head on the top of the fridge.

Biting her lip to keep herself from laughing, Keely returned, “Why?”

“Because I'm not a song writer!” he cried out, gripping the ends of his hair. “I don't do lyrics, I help with the music every once in a while, but I'm done after that! The only songs that Seth hasn't written written were from our crappy albums! So don't ask me, I can't do it!”

Despite her efforts Keely started laughing when Marco marched away down the bus.

Winnipeg, Manitoba.

Wrinkling her nose, she shoved the empty pizza box across the floor away from herself as she moved down the bus.

The bus may have been clean when they'd first gone onto the road, but that had long ago ceased to be. Inside the entire bus the only things she knew for a fact remained clean were their bunks, the bathroom and their instruments. Besides that, there were empty cartons of food scattered about and clothes strewn across the bus that wasn't too big in the first place.

Well, it wasn't exactly dirty. At least Keely wouldn't say so, it was more cluttered and messy. They hadn't gotten to the point where it wasn't safe to eat inside the bus anymore, and she was just in hopes that it wouldn't get that bad. This was already bad enough.

Yet at least the crisp scent of coffee was wafting through the bus, that could make up for anything.

At this point she was the only one awake in the bus, the first one to rise in the morning. It was an odd feeling, being the only one conscious; it was as if she was alone in their temporary home for the first time since the tour started.

Not wanting to breathe in too deeply since they needed to get their laundry done, she just tapped her fingers on the edge of the counter casually.

A glance towards the coffee maker proved that it was done, and Keely hastily snagged the cream from the fridge that was choked full of half eaten take out containers. And after placing it lightly on the small section of counter, stretched upwards to the cupboard above the coffee maker. Scowling slightly, she moved up to her tip toes, feeling her her black Janis Joplin shirt ride up her back as she stretched upwards.

The cabinet where they kept the coffee mugs was a pain in her ass, being just too short to ever reach it with ease. And she didn't dare to climb on top of the counter again. Because not only was she not too agile, but last time she had, the bus had swerved, causing her to have to cling to swinging cupboard door to save herself from falling to what would be a painful landing of her head smacking the fridge on the other side of the bus.

At the moment she heard footsteps behind her, Keely let out a deep breath and felt her fingers brush the handle of a mug. Smiling triumphantly, she snatched it up, falling flat to her feet again. “Just because I'm the only girl, doesn't mean I'm cleaning up after you lot!” she called over her shoulder assuming it was Marco because he was usually awake first, grinning before spinning around.

But the grin slid off her face, when she saw it was Seth standing behind her, leaning against the fridge, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Blinking stupidly, she just turned back to the coffee machine, hastily pouring herself a cup.

Yes, definitely awkward.

Calgary, Alberta.

“Oh, thank god,” moaned Keely happily, peering out the window from her perch on the seat.

“What are you talking about?” asked Marco absently from where he was stretched out across the couch, holding a magazine over his head while he flipped through it. Had he been any closer, his hair would have been brushing her legs.

She grinned, mussing his blonde hair. “We're almost at the hotel, if I would have had to sleep in that bunk for another night, I think my back would have died.”

“Can backs die?” put in Colton from where he was playing solitaire at their table.

Sighing Keely dropped back onto her legs, turning her head about so she could look towards him but her body still facing the window.

But before she could answer, Seth spoke, “I don't think it's logical.” He was the only one of them sitting on the ground, near the door, his back against the wall as he sat cross legged with a guitar on his lap.

Rolling her eyes, Keely excitedly slapped her hands on the back of the couch, looking back to the window. “But we're going to get to sleep in real beds tonight.”

“I doubt you'll get to enjoy the bed, you'll be passed out by the time we get back from the show and then we're waking up at five thirty in the morning so we can reach Edmonton in time. Not exactly a relaxing time.”

Not so much as pausing, she gripped Seth's tattered copy of Steinbeck's Of Mice And Men from where it was laying carelessly on the seat beside her and chucked it at Colton. For once it actually hit the mark, bouncing off his head, making him swear crudely. “You're ruining my good mood.”