There was no speaking in the bus. Not that it was awkward, they’re just weren’t talking.

Yes, conversation had happened before, but it had left over the time spent inside, all of them letting silence come as they focused on their own thoughts.

After the time Keely and Seth had spent locked inside the little change room stall, they’d left the television studio – Keely having changed out of her costume first – to the many whispers of the people inside. But it appeared that what little time they’d taken for her to calm down had been too much, because the paparazzi had already flooded the outside of the studio as they apparently thought she was on the brink of a mental break down and would like to push it along.

The flashing lights combined with the questions being hurled at them – everything from Keely’s denial of a relationship to why she looked like she’d been crying – had been enough to freeze her in her steps, her mind working much slower through the reality of what she’d just done. Scowling around at the reporters, Seth had put his arm around her shoulders practically dragging her from their midst. A clicking frenzy behind them had started, but as the bus was parked just across the road, waiting to whisk them away to Green Bay, there had been thankfully no reason to spend any more time with the reporters.

And the moment she had climbed inside, Seth following in behind her, clapping met her ears.

Colton and Marco pretending to kiss the ground she walked on was enough to make her start laughing, and for a few moments forget. They’d gathered around the table as the bus started moving, she and Seth sitting on one side with the boys on the other. And with Seth’s arm slung across the back of the booth as he leaned back casually, they’d started joking and laughing about the moments of her interview.

All four of them holding back from thinking of the very real possibility that by the time the bus reached Green Bay Keely could be buying a plane ticket back to Bellingham.

But that was until her cell had begun ringing in her pocket.

And everything had gone dead quiet.

Feeling rather hesitant, but gritting her teeth anyways, Keely had stood up from the booth, pulling the phone from her jeans. “Hi?” she’d questioned uncertainly as she pressed the phone to her ear, wrapping one arm around her and making her way to the other end of the bus.

“Apologize, Keely. That’s all you had to do, say you understood what you’d done was wrong and that you’d learnt from your actions. That’s all you had to do.”

Wincing she began to pace in the back room, not oblivious to the silence that had settled over the bus as the boys hung on to her every word. “Well, it really wasn’t that easy,” Keely had mumbled guiltily.

Maureen had just given a sigh. “I have another meeting with Mr James tonight, I’m going to try and smooth it over, but I don’t know what I can do for you, I barely got him to agree to the apology. The show in Green Bay has been cancelled, but I’ll be flying out there to talk to you in person tomorrow night so you lot will still go there until we can figure this out. I’ll have my secretary call you with the details, alright?”

Feeling sufficiently chastised, Keely had hung her head and murmured, “Alright.”

That had been when the bus started to get quiet.

Not a single one of them had gone to bed that night, although Keely did change into a pair of plaid pyjama pants and Seth’s Nirvana shirt.

And it all lead up to them sitting without speaking on the bus at that moment.

Keely was sitting on the ground at the front of the bus, her legs stretched out in front of her and her back against the wall with the couch to one side and the table to the other, an acoustic guitar in her lap.

Seth was lying flat on his back on the couch, flipping through a stack of records that was laying on his hard stomach, stacks of vinyls were also on the ground beside the couch, the pile he’d looked through growing steadily while his left foot tapped rhythmically to the song she was playing. Marco was flipping through a magazine, looking very bored, while he sat forward on one side of the table. And finally Colton was stretched across the other side of the table, doing nothing but staring thoughtfully at the other side of the bus.

She was singing Sheena Is A Punk Rocker easily, playing the chords on her guitar seamlessly as Marco and Seth provided the backup vocals smoothly.

““... But she just couldn’t stay, She had to break away, Well New York City really has it all, Oh yeah oh yeah. Sheena is a punk rocker, Sheena is a punk rocker, Sheena is a punk rocker now. Sheen is a punk rocker-”.”

Yet Keely cut off with a sigh, shifting slightly as the chord died inside the guitar. When she’d begun to play one of the bands that had pioneered punk rock, Keely had been hoping to take out a bit of the anxiety rushing about inside of her that combined with the nerves jumping up into her throat. But it barely soothed the fretfulness, although she was to suspect that had to do with the lack of electric instruments. The Ramones just weren’t the same on acoustic.

Shoving herself clumsily to her feet, Keely propped her guitar against the wall before peeking over Seth to the records in his hands.

“What do you want, rebel?”

Arching an eyebrow, she asked in a quiet voice, “Something loud?”

Making a sound of agreement, his golden eyes sent her a quick look before looking back to his records in his hands. “Well, right now I have two fitting albums here,” Seth said, picking up the last two albums he’d dropped and held them up for her to see, “Paranoid or Never Mind the Bollocks Here’s the Sex Pistols?”

Sighing, she let her eyes flick back and forth between the album covers. “You know you’re making me choose between one of the best heavy metal albums ever and one of the greatest punk rock albums ever recorded?”

He smirked up at her, and answered simply, “Yeah.”

Rolling her eyes at him Keely took another moment, looking at Black Sabbath and then to the Sex Pistols.

It really wasn’t an easy choice.

“Never Mind The Bollocks,” she decided abruptly, snatching it from his hand.

“Kind of fitting, isn’t it?”

Decidedly ignoring him for the time being, Keely just slipped the vinyl from its jacket and placed it carefully upon the record player. A couple states before – or maybe it had been in Canada? – Marco had hooked up Seth’s record player to the bus’s sound system, he being the only one who wasn’t completely hopeless with technology outside of a recording studio (where Seth was still the undisputed ruler) out of the four of them.

As Holidays In The Sun’s boot stomp intro rang through the bus, Keely cranked up the volume loudly before collapsing on the couch, looking up to Seth. “Did you ever notice the obvious influence of this song on Green Day’s Horseshoes And Handgrenades?”

“Billy Joe has said that the Sex Pistols are his favourite band, although he said it in more words,” answered Seth comfortably as he shifted, putting his hands behind his head.

“Kind of obvious again, isn’t it?”

“More obvious than the Bob Dylan influence on the entire Rubber Soul?”

“Yup.”

Suddenly a new voice broke through theirs, causing both Keely and Seth to look towards the booth. “Have you two done anything but listen to music your entire lives?” asked Marco bluntly, sending the two a steady look over the top of the magazine he was reading.

Surprised – but far from upset – that she gave a giggle at the words, Keely replied breezily, “Oh, every once in a while. I write songs between albums.”

“Yeah, of course,” Marco sighed, looking back to his magazine.

Not wanting for them to fall into the no speaking rut again, since it would give her time to become lost in her own thoughts, Keely quickly questioned, “How far away are we until our stop?”

To the surprise of the other three, it was Colton who answered, making them all send him a quick look in unison. “Twenty minutes... what?” he asked, finding all their eyes on him. “I haven’t been home for like a couple months.”

Grinning Keely turned her gaze to Marco. “How long has it been for you?”

Shrugging, he flipped the page. “I think seven months, right before we started recording the new album.”

“You?” she prompted, looking at Seth.

The third boy was busying himself piling the stack of records on the ground that had been lying on his stomach before grabbing another pile for him to look through. “Two years... maybe, my mom came down to New York a couple months ago so it’s pretty much the same thing.”

Feeling her heart clench slightly at the thought of his mom and childhood, Keely focused her gaze more steadily on him. But he just sent her a half hearted grin that barely turned up his lips before holding up the records in front of him casually, beginning to flip through them, hiding his face from view.

Sighing loudly, Keely slumped back in the couch, leaning her head on the back and staring up at the ceiling. “What are you guys going to do when you get home?” she questioned, unable to help her curiosity.

What would she be doing if they were stopping in Bellingham instead of Green Bay? First thing, she’d hug her dad and avoid all subjects that involved her mom for a while, after that she’d run to go see Joe and then see Haley before meeting up with the rest of her friends. And, eventually, she’d talk to her father about her mother, because as much as she didn’t want to know, she did want to know at the same time.

But she wasn’t going home, at least not yet.

“Lunch at my house with the parents,” replied Marco.

Smiling slightly Keely raised her head, “All of you and all your parents?” At the nods, her smile broadened. “Aw, it’s adorable that all your parents are friends too, do they even like each other or did you lot just force them together?”

Marco and Colton smirked at each other. But it was the later who answered her question, “Our fathers were best friends in high school, the eighties you know; bunch of bad looking leather and listened to hair bands, we have pictures we’re blackmailing them with. All our moms are pretty good friends now, I guess.”

“Sounds nice,” she murmured, sending another glance in Seth’s direction. He was holding Chuck Berry’s The Great Twenty-Eight album, but was frowning slightly at it and remained silent through the conversation.

After a moment of silence, it was Marco who broke the silence, “What are you doing when we get there?”

Biting her lip, she tore her gaze away from the mysterious boy and instead focused on the one who was speaking. “Ah... after Dave drops you off at your place, he’s driving me out to the car place so I can pick up my rental then I guess I’ll go to my motel room.” Keely gave a short laugh, but it really held no amusement.

If she was being honest, she was not looking forward to the time in the motel. It was as if it was becoming hard for her to be alone anymore. Before the tour she would have assumed she’d love the days when she got some time to herself, after all she spent the rest of her time stuck in the bus with people, her only alone time when she was asleep.

However it was almost the opposite. When they got those days to themselves, Keely would always find herself going to their motel room so she wasn’t alone. She couldn’t say if that was because she was building up a steady aversion to thinking about anything when she wasn’t writing a song, but she just couldn’t seem to stay by herself when she was conscious. All her time was spent with those three boys, most of the time doing some very stupid things, such as managing to blow up the toilet in Marco’s hotel room a couple states back. But she wasn’t exactly sure if that was because she was getting rather addicted to Seth’s very presence, though she would deny it to the end of time.

“Sounds... boring,” retorted Colton, looking at the watch on his wrist. “You’re going to hang out in your motel room until your meeting with Maureen? That’s like seven hours.”

Giving what she believed passed as a careless shrug, she answered, “I’ll just work on some music.”

“Like you’re going to be able to focus,” piped up Seth finally.

Arching an eyebrow, Keely turned her eyes to see him watching her closely, a knowing look in his eyes. “I’ll be able to,” she responded, but it was half hearted, she knew he was right. “The lyrics need some work before we record them, I’m not using the word holder to record the first couple takes no matter what Lennon says, we don’t really have much time to spend fooling around in the studio with it.”

“We’ll do a demo,” replied Seth, picking up a different record with a thoughtful look on his face as he focused on the vinyl.

Rolling her eyes, she shoved at his socked feet making him smirk up at her. “We’ve already done a demo,” she told him, “I said “jumping jacks” in the song as a place holder for the last time.”

““Jumping jacks” has a ring to it,” he answered easily.

“Yeah, because it really fits in with the whole love song veiled in a loud guitar rift, right?”

Seemingly unaffected by her sarcasm, Seth just said, “Perfectly.”

When she glared at him, he finally gave a sigh and answered seriously. “We’ll just do another demo, rebel, it’s not unheard of. Anyways the last one you hit the major chord wrong and started swearing halfway through.”

“Well, I’m working on it,” Keely informed him, pushing his feet of the couch and making him sit up. “I don’t have anything else to do, might as well work on it as best as I can.”

Yawning loudly, Seth set the records on the seat between them as he sat up; running a hand through his hair and causing it stand up messily. “Why don’t you just come have lunch with us instead?”

“Its fine,” she told him, “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m just going to call into a radio station and say fuck a lot, insult a few famous people, say I don’t want any fan mail and tell all the children of the world to snort some cocaine. That shouldn’t make anything worse, right?”

This time it was his turn to roll his eyes at her as he slumped back into the chair. “You know what? It probably wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, I’d just like to go on record to say that I’m against the radio station plan,” spoke up Colton, reminding the two of his presence again. “Just come have lunch at Marco’s house,” he continued, “His mom has never been able to cook a meal for less than about a million people anyways.”

She winced, drumming her fingers over Here’s Little Richard. As much as she didn’t want to be alone, imposing herself upon people she didn’t know was not a pleasant prospect either. “But it’s your guys’ families that you haven’t seen since who knows when.”

“I spent seventeen years in their house,” put in Marco, scrunching up his nose, “I’ve spent enough time alone with them, thank you very much.”

“His mom likes to pinch his cheeks when he comes home,” whispered Seth conspiratorially, making Keely giggle loudly.

Marco responded by flinging his magazine at his friend.

Chuckling Seth just snagged it from the air easily as Keely pressed herself against the couch, hoping to hide behind him as she knew very well that objects had a liking to smack her in the head. “Just come over, it’s no big deal,” said Seth, looking at her, his mouth quirked up in the crooked grin.

“What about my rental car?” she asked, her excuses becoming half hearted. “I need to drive out to see Maureen tonight, I need to go pick up my car.”

“I’ll talk to Dave; he’ll drop your stuff at the motel and bring your car to Marco’s place.”

Heaving a loud sigh, Keely crossed her arms in front of her chest, how could she say no when he was grinning like that? Not to mention she couldn’t lie that she was curious about their families... mainly Seth’s mother even though the very thought of her made her stomach burn with anger.

“Yeah, okay,” she muttered, pushing herself off the couch.

“Where are you going?”

Shaking her head at the three voices that had blended perfectly, she glanced back over her shoulder at them. “If I’m going to meet all your parents at once, which is rather daunting if I say so myself – parents used to like me, but apparently not so much anymore – I’m not going to meet them the first time wearing my pyjama pants and Seth’s shirt; it’d just beg very awkward questions I would rather not have to answer.”

Only five minutes later the bus was pulling to a slow halt. Keely had managed to find a pair of jeans that were neither ripped nor faded, not to mention that were clean and a plaid blue flannel shirt she buttoned up over a grey tank top. Even if she had wanted to dress up, which really wasn’t her thing anyways, all her clothes that could fit into that section were for reserved for concerts and they really needed to do their laundry.

Peeking out of the window, she found them pulling down a street covered in snow. Her nose crinkled slightly at the sight of the snow that was falling down from the sky as well, her only problem with snow was the fact that it was cold. Plus she knew enough to know that whatever snow she got when growing up in Washington had nothing on Wisconsin snow.

When she turned around, Keely saw the three boys hurriedly slipping on jackets.

It made a smile touch the edges of her lips. They were grown men by now, legal age to do anything they wanted. They were rock stars that lived in New York City and had probably done things on past tours that Keely wasn’t sure she even wanted to know about.

But they still wanted to see their families, no matter how old they got or whatever they did.

Slipping on her black pea coat, Keely couldn’t help as her eyes travel to Seth who was shrugging his black leather jacket over the black and white long sleeved Motörhead concert shirt, picking up his own guitar case. Was it awful of her to wonder how he could be happy to see his mother after everything he’d told her about his childhood?

As the bus stopped completely she stopped, letting the boys go out first while she snapped her acoustic into its case. Having her guitar was like a little extra protection.

Stepping out of the warm bus, the handle of her guitar case clasped tightly in her hand, Keely dropped lightly onto the just ploughed road that was already gaining layers of snowflakes. And it was just in time to see the people piling out of the large house.

Pausing with her hand still on the door of the bus, Keely couldn’t help but just watch, her stomach sinking uncomfortably as she did. The three boys were being met by the five older people, there was something familiar about every single one of the strangers, but from her slight distance she couldn’t put her finger on what exact features made them familiar. For now she’d have to settle for the fact that those were their parents.

Hastily taking account of the people as she figured the parents would greet their own children first, Keely stayed in place. A man with shortly cropped curly hair wearing kakis and a Green Bay Packers hoodie was hitting Colton in the shoulder, there was a plump woman giving him a hug that was about the same height. A tall boney woman was pinching Marco’s cheeks making Keely smile while a grinning man stood behind her in his jeans and flannel shirt, his arms folded over his chest.