If Only Until Morning

~Jesse~

Sean and I were standing near the backstage area of one of the smaller stage, talking about the night before in low voices. We covered the unsure silences with the pretense of watching Cobra Starship set up. Neither of us knew what to make of the... drama was the best word for it. If Angie was serious about her threat... well, she often quoted her grandmother's proverb, "I don't make threats, I make promises."

There was still about an hour until the gates opened up to the public, and street team members had just begun to show up. Matt was helping Alison set up the merch booth-- and hopefully talking some sense into her. We'd all quietly snuck out of the bus, leaving Angie asleep on the couch. I didn't want to think about what she'd done in the middle of the night to get there.

"Excuse me." We turned away from the stage at the sound of a female voice. I felt my jaw go slack. In front of us stood a tall, absolutely gorgeous blonde with head tilted slightly to one side and hands tucked into her back pockets. A backstage pass was clipped to her jeans. She blinked and her blue eyes darkened after a moment. "How convenient. Can you direct me to my darling redheaded bassist, or have you managed to misplace her again?"

Sean and I exchanged glances. Who the hell was this, demanding Penelope and making cutting remarks about our inability to keep track of her? "Er, she's asleep," Sean said hesitantly. "An' who're you?"

She tossed her head, hair cascading back over her shoulders. "Reinforcement," she declared, "Or sanity. It's a close call which. But obviously a better friend than either of you."

I blinked. Judgmental much? But there was something about her-- and no, it wasn't just that fact that she was probably the best-looking person I'd ever seen-- that made me want to know her. I stuck out my hand. "I'm Jesse."

She eyed it in obvious distaste-- it was closer to repulsion. "Oh, I'm aware. She's told me about you. Both of you." With that she turnedin a flash of silken gold and strode off, moving much faster than most people did when they were determined to get somewhere.

"Due t'your state of pie-eyed awe," Sean said, nudging me out of my daze, "I'll ask i'. Who the bloody 'ell was tha'?"

"Well apparently she knows Penelope," I reasoned, staring off in the direction she'd disappeared. "Though how in hell they would've become friends is beyond me." I glanced back at the stage and grinned. "How's about we follow her and find out?"

Sean scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Somethin' tells me those'll be famous last words." We started off away from the stage, though we had no idea which route this mysterybabe friend would take.

Luckily we didn't have to go any farther than the start of Merch Avenue, as we called the long row of booths. Alex and Jack stopped in front of us, both grinning and Alex with a female slung over his shoulder. "Look what we found!" he announced excitedly.

"If you don't put me down now," she growled, "Lawrie and Ross won't be the only ones singing soprano."

I peered around Alex and wiggled my fingers at her. "Hello again," I greeted innocently. "Fancy meeting you here." She glared at me.

"D'you know who this belongs to?" Jack asked. "Because if it's no one, then I call dibs."

"I don't belong to anyone! I am not a slave or a stock animal!"

"Maybe y'should put 'er down, Alex," Sean suggested, laughing slightly. "Ye sing high 'nough as it is." Alex shot him a dirty look.

"Pardon my language, but what the fuck are you doing?"

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," I hailed as Angie appeared amongst us. That girl moves too quietly. "Glad you've taken to sleeping again."

"Yeah, whatever," she said distractedly, squinting at the form Alex was holding. Her eyes widened and a grin spread across her face, a sight none of us had seen in some time. "Beth?"

"Dearest, make this disgusting lout unhand me before I have to resort to violence," she requested. Angie fixed Gaskarth with a pointed look and he quickly put the blonde on her feet. She dusted herself off, punched Alex in the chest, and beamed at Angie. "Now then." And then she projectile-hugged her, knocking them both back a good five feet and sending Angie into a fit of laughter.

I turned from looking at them to looking at the others; Sean looked just as bemused as I felt, Jack looked... a little too excited about the girls hugging, and Alex was halfway bent over, rubbing his chest. "Ow," he declared forcefully.

"She can'na hit you that hard," Sean said doubtfully, eying him.

"Can, did, will again," the blonde corrected, grinning ferally.

I blinked at her and then at Angie. "I rescind my unasked question of how you two met and become friends."

Angie grinned. "That's okay, Trill. I wouldn't have told you anyway."

"Ooh," her friend-- Beth, I think she said?-- cooed, flashing a grin at her, "Where's the ignorant, apathetic selfish teenager stuck in permanent adolescence, more interested in self-indulgence than keeping friendships alive?"

Pause. "You mean Matt?"

"Of course. Who else fits that description?"

"You'd be surprised." Joy. More people. And what a crowd: members of Panic!, Fall Out Boy, and Paramore. Andy had a point, though, as cynical and slightly offensive as it was. "Isn't that what being a teenager is?"

"Watch your step, Hurley," Angie advised with a cool smile indirectly aimed at Ryan. After all, they were back to ignoring each other's existence. "Too much honesty might shatter tiny minds."

"Not to mention enormous egos," Beth added, wrapping an arm around Angie's waist.

"Sweet, more eye candy," Zac expressed gratefully.

Ryan quirked an eyebrow at Beth. "Wait a minute. Is this the sociopath?" he asked, obviously not asking her directly.

Beth smiled condescendingly at the younger Farro. "It surprises and makes me wonder how you subsisted your unmitigated spell of breathing-- much less your brief run with my fire-haired darling-- with such atrocious etiquette and imprudent ineloquence."

Well. Well. If that doesn't leave one breathless, I don't know what does. Ryan however seemed unimpressed, as he rolled his eyes. "Yep. This is the sociopath," he grumbled, walking off.

Beth narrowed her eyes at his back and muttered something to Angie that sounded forebodingly like, "He's next." But she tugged her sleeve and pouted. "You know how antisocial I am. Crowds do nothing for me."

Angie nodded and began strolling off. "We are in accord, love. See you around, boys." All of us watched them go off, breaking into a run after some unheard comment that had them both in stitches.

Well!

"She looks familiar," Pete observed once they were gone. "But I have no idea where I'd've seen her."
"In your dreams, probably," Patrick said with a shrug as they too began to leave.

"I know she'll be in mine," Alex said with a smirk. Sean rolled his eyes in annoyance. Sluts irked him, and personally I couldn't blame him.

"Dude!" Jack piped. "Wouldn't it suck if she was a lesbian?"

My head snapped towards him, eyes widening. "There is no justice in the world if she is," I declared solemnly.

Once the gates opened up and people arrived, I got too caught up in wearing my musician hat to think about Beth. However, it was just Sean, Alison, and I at the booth, which was immensely boring-- watching Ali hit on customers is not entertaining-- so I went off in search of Matt and Angie. Which, by association, meant her friend.

Turns out that William was also looking for Angie and had done the smart thing in calling her. So we walked to the busses, me telling him about this girl who'd shown up out of nowhere. When I told him how she got Alex bitching about his shoulder for twenty minutes, he laughed. "I think I've met this girl. Acerbic and sarcastic as all hell, but great entertainment."

I recognised her voice, as well as Matt's as we rounded the bus. Beth, although shorter by an inch or two, seemed to tower over Matt, a dark glower on her face. Christ, I hope she never looks at me like that, I thought as we stopped.

"Who're you, telling me what I'm doing is wrong?" Matt demanded. "You got no idea wha-- hnn!"

Bill and I both cringed as Beth kneed Matt where the sun doesn't shine and he fell to the ground, wheezing. I coughed out a laugh behind my fist-- reflex, just because for all his manwhoring he'd never had that done to him-- and tensed when that tempestuous expression turned on me. "And you aren't inculpable in this either," she said, punching me.

Okay, I have to give Alex one thing. She hits hard.

"Aero's on his way with the car. He said--" Angie cut off as she hopped down from the bus and saw us four standing there. Ahem, three standing and one huddled in on himself. She blinked for a moment before clearing her throat. "Um, what's going on?"

I'd find her naivety adorable if I hadn't just gotten the wind knocked out of me.

"We were planning a... tea party," Beth said saccharine-sweetly with a matching smile. Bill and I looked at her incredulously.Thankfully Angie didn't buy it for a second either and rolled her eyes. "Uh huh," she agreed sarcastically. "And I was just in there adding to my shrine to Pete. William love, assist Matthew inside and retrieve some ice from the freezer." Just then a black convertible pulled up beside us and Aromi peered over his sunglasses at Matt as Bill pulled him up. "And since you're a witness, Jesse, you will accompany Aromi, Elisabeth, and myself and abet our inclination to traject the afore mentioned Elisabeth to her residence."

It took me a minute, and her pushing me into the backseat of the car, to figure out what she said, and by that time, Beth had stopped glaring at me and planted herself in the drivers seat. A second after I buckled my seatbelt, we screeched away and out of the parking lot.

I leaned forward to ask to where I was being kidnapped, but between the roar of the wind and Beth kicking up the stereo, I sure as hell wasn't going to be heard by Angie. Aero pulled me back and explained in a loud voice that we were going to Beth's house to pack up some stuff for her.

"Stuff?" I called inquisitively. "What stuff?"

"Articles required for living aboard our commutable prison," Angie informed me over her shoulder with a genuine smile.

I turned my head to gape at Beth, who was singing along with Valencia and ignoring my existence. She was going to stay with us? She and Angie disappear for two hours and decide this?

I sat back, somewhat dumbstruck, and thought about it rationally. Another female on tour could be a good thing-- and I wasn't thinking with my dick here. I mean, Angie seemed alarmingly happier since her arrival, and a happy Angie made for a happy lots of other people. But this one had already clobbered two people and maimed a third, and it wasn't even noon yet. God knows what would happen if she lived with us.

As I was thinking that, in spite of it, I did still want to get to know Beth-- I'm a masochist, I know-- and that we did have an extra bunk, we slowed and turned into a driveway. I blinked up at the house as Beth leaned over the side of the car and punched in a code, allowing the gates to swing open forebodingly. "I hate that damn thing," she muttered, accelerating up the drive.

I could swear I heard my brain short out. My first thought was: People who live in these sorts of house do not like our music! But that was judgmental, and even though Beth carried herself better than Miss Universe, there had to be some semblance of normal human being about her. Those jeans were not purchased with rips.

We followed her up to the front door, where she rolled her eyes at us as she rang the bell. The door opened to reveal a doorman in a monkey-suit, who bowed slightly as we passed. Beth fixed him with a stern look. "You do not get to say anything to Dad. I--"

"Elisabeth, what are you doing home?" a man's deep voice asked. I turned and straightened my posture when I saw a stocky, frowning man in expensive shoes, shirt, and slacks striding up to us. I dealt with upper-middle class girls' fathers; this one ate guys like me alive. Or worse. "Who are these people?"

Angie immediately stepped forward and stuck out her hand. "Rhiannon Callaghan," she introduced, shaking his hand firmly. "Though your daughter knows me as Angie. It is a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Likewise, young lady," he replied, already eying me. "I've heard Elisabeth talk about you and your music." Before I could promptly imitate Angie's actions-- I was dead in the water if I appeared intimidated-- Aromi slid forward, smiling a strange smile. "Aromi Tropher. Mister Di Costello, I've heard so much about you," he said, lisping his s's slightly. He gasped his excited 'I found a great deal on a designer suit' gasp. "Armani. I have a shirt just like it. It looks fabulous on you, sir."

It was so hard not to laugh, both at Aero playing up the gay stereotype and at Mr. Di Costello's confused expression. "...Indeed" was all he could say. He cleared his throat roughly and relinquished Aero's hand. "What do you do?"

"I manage Angie's band," Aero said brightly. "Take care of all their booking and publicity that they don't do themselves. Quite precocious, these young people."

"I see," he said coolly, observing our manager curiously. "Is there good money in that, then?"

Aromi shrugged, still smiling. "Decent money. I live fairly well, all things considered. It's an investment to start out with. Just like running a business, sir."

Silence swallowed the hall as Aero's forced lisp lingered away. "We'll be upstairs, Daddy," Beth excused, shuffling us towards the stairs. "I've forgotten something and we don't want to get in your way."

"Hold it." We froze and I mentally cursed. So close. He surveyed me up and down like a hawk sizing up a mouse, and then I remembered what I'd chosen to wear this morning; torn-up jeans and tight, white t-shirts do not make good impressions on fathers. "What's your name, boy?"

I stepped back down the steps sure-footedly and smiled professionally. "Jesse Christopher, sir."

When I put out my hand, he looked at it disdainfully. And no wonder: I'd been chipping away at my dark blue nail polish for a few days. Without addressing me and without moving a hair, he said, "Elisabeth, you and your friends go upstairs. I want to have a word with... Jesse, was it?"

As they ascended the stairs, Angie and Aero looked back at me with sympathy, while Beth smirked. If life were a cartoon, a thought bubble depicting her throwing me to a vicious snarling dog with a collar that read 'Dad' would have popped up.

I'm doomed.

"So." I turned back to the man, trying to hide how cowed I was by his imposing presence despite being almost a foot taller. "How is it exactly that you know my daughter?" Mr. Di Costello asked steely.

This guy put all my ex-girlfriends' fathers to shame. "Actually, I met her this morning, sir," I said carefully. "Most of what I know, Pen-- er, Angie, has told me." I smiled stiffly. "Which has been nothing but best."

"So you're in this... band, is that it?" Obviously musician ranked pretty low on his list of respectable careers. I nodded promptly, forcing myself not to ruffle up my hair like I did when I was anxious. "I see." Pause. "How old are you, exactly?"

"Nineteen," I replied, unsure of whether that was a bad thing or not. "I'll be turning twenty in September." By the gelid look he was giving me, being nineteen was a crime punishable by death. I just prayed they were packing quickly upstairs.

"Elisabeth is barely eighteen," he informed me conversationally; probably not a good thing. "And a young lady of her high standing needs to be taken care of and respected. Why should I let you walk out of this house and take her back to that... zoo of people like you?"

I swallowed hard and straightened my posture again. "Sir, I can assure you, one hundred percent certainly, that nothing of ill content will befall your daughter. We are myrmidons of chivalry and perfervid that all females on tour and visiting are protected." Christ, but I was talking like Angie. Better tone that down. "My band mates and I-- and pretty every member of the tour since meeting her-- do everything in our power to keep Angie safe and happy, and we hold no less respect for her or any other young lady--including your daughter-- than we would our own mothers."

Mister Di Costello seemed coldly unconvinced. I didn't blame him. I wouldn't trust me, dressed and situated as I was, in his place either. "And there is nothing else I can do to assuage your apprehension than give my solemn word. But... if you still don't believe that I am honest..." I couldn't help but shrug. "C'est la vie."

He stared me down, unmoved by my speech, until Beth, Angie, and Aromi came down the steps. He shook Aero's hand, kissed Angie's cheek, and kissed his daughter, sending me another look. "Have a good time today, Elisabeth," he said fatherly.

Beth smiled appeasingly. "I will, Daddy," she promised, ushering us out the door.

Her father caught my shoulder. "She comes back with a scratch and I'll break your legs," he swore, "French or not. Capiche?"

I nodded quickly. "I understand perfectly, sir. An honour meeting you."

Beth tugged my arm and I tripped after her. "I'll be staying with Angie for a while, Daddy," she called quickly, pushing me into the backseat and hopping into the front. "Yes, I'll have a cell phone; yes, you can keep track of my credit card transactions; no I'm not giving you the names of everyone I'll be around so you can 'keep an eye on them'. Yes, I love you. Okay, thanks, bye!" And with that we sped off the property.

I let out a breath and relaxed into the leather seat, feeling the wind rush through my hair. Good god, I was glad that was over. "Nice speech, Christopher," Beth said suddenly. I lifted my head and caught her gaze in the rear view mirror. "A bit supererogatory, but I think you did pretty well."

"Oh good," I replied smartly. "I'm glad you approve of my ability to not put my name down on a hit list. You could have warned me."

She shrugged. "Angie obviously exaggerated when she told me how smart you are. I thought you'd be able to discern from talking to me what my father would be like. Whom do you think I learned it from?" She passed a glance at Angie and laughed.

My head flopped back. This girl would be the death of me.