Second Chance

"You're kidding me, right?"

I kept my distance from him, but it didn't seem to make an ounce of difference. Whenever we were in the same room together, I would always find his eyes narrowed in my direction, his fists clenched and a scowl on his face. Quite often this was all while he was in heated discussion with Matt; the singer had taken it upon himself to explain the situation to the band's manager, preventing the biased opinions of the others from interferring. But it wasn't Matt that he spoke to this time. It was Zacky.

"You are fucking kidding me, Baker."

Even if I hadn't been in the room for the entire conversation already, I would have known that I was the topic of debate. It didn't take a genius to figure it out, with the way that Jacobson was glaring while Zacky blocked his view of me. I sat on the far side of the room, close to the door in case I needed to go in search of Matt.

"You weren't there." I could almost see the dangerous look in Zacky's eyes as he said it; I shivered. "She's not just some stupid kid, man. Matt knows it. Johnny knows it. Hell, I'm sure Brian knows it too, even if he won't admit it. She's not the type of person who'd pull a stunt like that. Her father legitimately beat the hell outta her."

It was like dealing with Brian all over again, except here was somebody who had more power than both the lead guitarist and the drummer combined possessed. If I hadn't already believed that I would be returning to Australia soon, I most definitely believed it now. If Matt couldn't handle this guy, nobody could.

I hadn't taken into account the fact that Zacky could be stubborn to the point that even Matt would be forced to surrender; he took on that roll again now, staring defiantly back at the manager. Larry Jacobson glared right back, looking every bit as determined. I edged closer to the door.

"I don't give a flying fuck who did what to her," Jacobson growled. "As long as it wasn't any of you lot, it isn't any of our concern."

"You can go, then."

"As it is," he went on, ignoring Zacky's comment, "I have to intervene. This has gone on long enough, Baker. She has to go back."

"She's not causing any trouble," Zacky countered. "Ask the guys - you hardly even notice that she's around, she's so quiet and out of the way."

"Security work hard enough to keep you all safe. They don't need another body to watch out for."

"They don't need to. I've got her back." Jacobson opened his mouth to argue, but Zacky was quick to cut him off. "Look, Larry, I'm not sending her back there, and there's not a damn thing you can say that'll change my mind. So just drop it, alright? It's none of your goddamn business."

"Like hell it's not. It's my job to do what's best for the band!"

"There are some things that aren't for you to decide - and this is one of them."

It was a huge relief to me that Matt chose this moment to enter the room; if he hadn't, I felt sure that I would have been seconds away from going in search of him. He observed the situation quickly and, clearly sensing the tension, casually positioned himself between the two men. He slung an arm around Zacky's shoulder.

"Sorry, Larry, gotta steal him away for a while. Got a show to play."

Jacobson waved a hand dismissively before turning away from them, setting his sights on other things. The two men watched him for several seconds before finally turning to leave the room. I went with them quickly, not needing the pointed look from Matt to know that I didn't want to be left alone with the manager.

"Just ignore him," Zacky said quietly, glancing at me over his shoulder. "I won't let him send you back."

"Don't feel bad if he does," I replied. "It's gotta happen eventually."

"Not if I can help it."

I parted ways from them shortly after this, and after grabbing Zacky's camera from the dressing room I headed out into the crowds. By now I was getting used to being recognised by the die-hard fans of the bands; it had been unnerving at first, but now it was just a way to capture on camera the people that the band wanted to see.

"Can you tell them that we love them?"

"Tell Syn I'm gonna steal his hat."

"We found the perfect place for Jimmy to chase stallion ducks!"

"Stallion ducks?" I'd asked, confused.

"He'll understand," the girl had assured me, giving me a strange look - as if I was the one talking nonsense. "You've never seen All Excess?"

"What's that?"

That earned me even more strange looks, so I was more than just a little thankful that the guys chose the moment to begin their set. Having snapped a few photos of the fans who clearly believed I was crazy, I moved away from them.

I'd been on the move, snapping photos of eager, dancing fans for around six songs before I realised that Larry Jacobson was tailing me.

I made a point of trying to lose him, darting between clustered groups or hiding behind people several feet taller than me. For a time I was sure that it had worked; I caught no sight of him as I came out of hiding and began taking pictures again. My feet took me around the floor with ease, until at last I ended up at the back of the room. I turned to admire the guys on the stage and the way that they had so many people united. But I didn't have the time to give it all too much thought before somebody grabbed my arm and dragged me out into an outside corridor.

It was much brighter out here, not to mention quieter once the door had swung itself shut. I turned to face whoever had grabbed me, ready to give them a piece of my mind.

"Now we can talk properly," Jacobson said, holding up a hand to silence me before I could begin. "Let's start with the basics. What do you want?"

"For you to leave me alone would be a nice start."

His exterior remained calm and collected, but his tone turned icy in an instant.

"You're not fooling me," he growled. "Take advantage of their hospitality while you can, because the second I can get you on a plane back to Australia, you're there."

"I'll be waiting. Just like always."

"You won't have to wait long."

The show was coming to an end. I knew that because I had come to know the set-list back to front, and I could still hear the guys playing despite the doors to the room being shut. That ment that people would be exiting the room fairly soon. I'd be able to walk away from Jacobson soon enough.

"Is it money that you want?" I could feel him assessing my reaction, looking for signs of truth in his statements. "Fame? Maybe a little of both?"

"I don't want anything from them." I said it, though I wasn't sure why I bothered. "What I want is to be able to go home after all of this and be able to survive. Nothing more, and nothing less."

He rolled his eyes.

"Why don't you do us all a favour and just disappear with the crowd tonight? Don't come back."

If we were in Sydney, I may have taken his comment to heart and done just that. But as we were in Europe, I wasn't prepared to take two steps too far away from the venue. If I got lost here, I was done for. There wouldn't be a home for me to run to, whether safe or not. It'd be the streets for me, with no paperwork and no right to work in the country. And I couldn't have that.

"I don't care if you get rid of me," I told him, "as long as I get back to Sydney."

The last expression I saw on his face was one of calculation, of thoughtfulness. But that was when the show ended and the crowd began to stream out into the hall. I smiled politely and waved to a few people who greeted me as they passed, and by the time they were all gone I was alone. Not a Jacobson in sight.