Second Chance

The guys had missed their entire North American tour, but were surprisingly still in good spirits. They got to spend time back at home, with their girlfriends and families, before they were supposed to head off to Japan in two weeks time for a series of shows.

Much like the guys, I found that it was hard to wipe the smile off my face. Not only had I escaped being sent back to Australia with the man who called himself my father, I'd also managed to gain myself a new, much more preferrable guardian in the process. And as if things couldn't have been any better, Jacobson was unable to show his face because he was to busy rescheduling the cancelled tour dates.

It was a good start to a new life.

Still I was weary of the manager, knowing that he couldn't have been pleased with the mess that I had caused for the guys. Because one way or another, it had all been my fault. His promises to send me back to Australia still sounded crystal clear in my mind, so I could only imagine how things were going to be between us now that I was definitely not leaving in a hurry.

I could only hope that things would improve. That now he would know he had no say in the matter and start treating me like a normal person. His past behaviour could be forgiven, as long as his future actions made up for it.

I had to admit, I deeply admired the guys for the way that they never seemed to miss a beat. It didn't matter that an entire tour leg had been cancelled - they were preparing for the rescheduled dates already, practising every second day as if nothing had ever gone wrong. I tagged along with Zacky most of the time, taking great amusement in the way that they always chose to rehearse in Matt's parents' garage. They could have gone anywhere in the world, but they chose the space from their teenage years.

And somehow, they still managed to sound like they were in a professional recording studio.

But as always, the universe had to balance itself out somehow.

It had been a while since I'd fallen ill, so I should have seen it coming from a mile away. I found myself curled up on Zacky's couch under several blankets while he went off to practice, promising to return early so I wouldn't have to lie around watching movies on my own. It was a nice feeling, knowing that he genuinely cared for my health and well-being.

"I'll be fine," I had to reassure him for what seemed like a hundred times. "Just go and practice. I'll probably sleep the whole time you're gone."

Sleep was the plan, but it never came. Truth be told, I hadn't really expected it to - I could never make myself fall asleep when I wanted or needed to. It was a curse, as far as I was concerned. A curse that I vowed I would one day break.

So movies it was. I watched, but I didn't really take in what was happening. My mind wandered, unable to keep up with any plot for even a few minutes. I had to make do with admiring stunts and special effects instead - something that Zacky's movie collection didn't lack in the slightest.

His darling dog had taken quite a liking to me, and chose to express this by keeping me company while his master was away. He curled up on top of the blankets by my feet and watched with me in silence, the perfect balance of being a comfort but not being a distraction. I had never been much of a dog person before, but Ichabod was slowly changing my mind.

We were twenty minutes into Sleepy Hollow, the second movie of the day, when he suddenly started growling.

My eyes travelled down to where he was. He hadn't moved from where he was, but he had directed his attention from the television to the front door. As I listened, I heard a car door shut. Then a second. In another moment Ichabod was on his feet, running towards it, barking like the crazed pooch that Zacky had always sworn he was.

It took a while for my brain to kick into gear, but when it did it dawned on me that if it were Zacky just outside, his dog wouldn't be going quite as crazy. The fact that he was should have sent alarm bells ringing in my head immediately. The door was locked, of course - something that was quickly discovered by the people on the outside when they tried to open it.

I wasn't taking any chances. I was already half way up the stairs by the time I heard a key slide into the lock.

I closed my bedroom door behind me as quietly as I possibly could before making a dash for my phone. It was exactly where I'd left it, on the cabinet beside my bed. I didn't much see the point in keeping it on me - the only people I would ever need to call were the guys, and I was around them often enough not to have to bother with even that. But I needed them now, and so I dialed.

I had never been so annoyed to reach somebody's voicemail as in the moment that I reached Zacky's.

There came a yell from downstairs, followed by a cry of, "Fuckin' dog!" If I'd had any doubts before about whether or not this company was welcome, I didn't now. I didn't recognise the voice, and Ichabod clearly didn't like whoever it was. And that was enough for me.

I dialed Zacky, and hit voicemail again.

I opened the door slightly, just far enough so I had a view of the top of the stairs and a better hearing range. I could pick up on the voices much more clearly now.

"-ever mentioned a damn dog."

"Get over it, will ya? It's just a dog."

"Fuckin' thing bit me!"

They weren't exactly being quiet, but they weren't being loud enough that I felt comfortable in trying to make an escape past them.

"You want your money? You can deal with a damn dog bite."

There was a yelp from Icky, I could only assume from being kicked aside by whomever was downstairs. I worried for the little thing. If not for him, I wouldn't have known there were trespassers until they were already in the house.

"You sure this guy's even gonna pay up?"

"'Course. Larry's good to his word."

Larry. So much for being busy. I could hardly believe what I was hearing - this was Jacobson's doing? I couldn't understand the motives behind him wanting people to break into Zacky's house, but I didn't need to know the why to know that I didn't like it.

I tried Zacky again. Much to my relief, he picked up on the fourth ring, with the sounds of fading music still playing in the background. Evidently I had interrupted them mid-song, but I didn't have it in me to feel too sorry just yet.

"Hey, kid, what's up?"

"There are people in your house," I said at once. There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. "I don't know who they are, but Icky doesn't like them."

"Do they know you're there?"

"No. They haven't seen me."

"Good. Stay out of sight; I'll be there in five minutes."

He hung up. For a moment I considered putting my phone back on the cabinet, but I thought better of it when a set of footsteps started coming up the stairs. I slipped the door shut once again, praying that nobody had heard it, and ducked into my walk-in closet. Five minutes. I could keep out of sight for five minutes.

When the bedroom door opened, I held my breath. It occurred to me then that I hadn't chosen the best place to hide. In fact, the only place worse would have been under the bed. But given my lack of choice, I had made the best decision that I could. All I could do now was hope that the best decision was enough.

"She in here?"

I didn't dare peek out into the room for fear of being discovered, but I felt it safe to assume that both intruders were now within metres of my hiding place. On the one hand, it terrified me to know that there were strangers - sent by Jacobson and apparently looking for me - so close; on the other, it was a relief to know exactly where they were. Having no idea of where in the house they were poking around would have been all the more terrifying.

"Don't look like it," the other responded at last. "Check the bathroom. I'll check the other room."

They left the room and parted ways, giving me a chance to breathe. I briefly considered making a run for it now, but quickly shot the idea down with the knowledge that I probably wouldn't get too far. Not only was I ill, I was also facing two people whom I knew nothing about. For all I knew, they could have been champion sprinters.

I kept my phone clutched in my hand, and focused on the fact that Zacky would soon be back.

Ichabod was growling again, at the top of the stairs now. I could almost imagine him looking both ways, trying to decide which intruder to go after first. As it turned out, he went after neither. He chose instead to wander into my room and make himself comfortable in the middle of the floor. A guard dog of sorts. One that growled whenever somebody got too close to the doorway.

Something that the intruders didn't fail to notice.

The closet door was thrown open before I'd even realised it was about to happen. In another second my arm had been grabbed and I'd been yanked to my feet at such an alarming speed that I was surprised I didn't fall to the ground again. And then I was looking into the face of a stranger while his friend attempted to rid himself of of Ichabod.

"Gotcha, girly."

I slammed my fist into his nose, managing to surprise him enough to release me from his grasp. I was on the run in an instant, taking the stairs as quickly as I could without tripping over my own feet. I tried to ignore the fact that he was barely two steps behind me as I ran straight for the door.

For once, luck decided it would be on my side.

Zacky threw the door open a split second before I reached it, and as I result I plowed right into him. The collision easily knocked me to the floor, and sent both intruders bolting in the opposite direction. Zacky was quick to go after them, and I found myself alarmed for a brief moment - what if they turned on him?

But of course, he hadn't come alone.

Brian offered me a hand, and I allowed him to help me to my feet. I had never been so happy to see him in my entire life, and I let him know this by giving him the biggest hug that I could. He gave a little chuckle and rubbed at my back in a soothing motion.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine..."

There came the sound of a shattering window from somewhere towards the back of the house, closely followed by a yell of, "Fuck!", and I jumped a mile into the air.

"Calm down. It's just Matt."

He took me into the kitchen and pushed me down gently into a seat. I sat in silence, taking the glass of water he offered me without debate. But I couldn't bring myself to drink.

"Brian, Larry sent them."

Half of his attention had been on keeping an eye out for his friends, but he turned it all to me as I spoke, raising an eyebrow in the process. He took a moment to process what I had said before he decided to speak.

"Larry? Our Larry? You sure?"

"They mentioned a Larry," I told him. "They didn't say Jacobson, but..."

I didn't need to finish vocalising the thought. He knew as well as I did that the odds of it being any other Larry were slim to none.

"They had a key," I added, as if this tiny detail mattered. Which, in the scheme of things, it probably did.

Brian ran a hand through his hair, looking irritated. I kept my eyes on him, more for something to focus on than anything else.

"Alright," he said at long last. "I think it's time we all have a good long talk about the Larry issue."