‹ Prequel: Pictures on Silence

If Only Until Morning

Chapter 34

“What the hell are you so chipper about?” Jesse grumbled at me from the couch as I strolled into the guys’ room singing “Pop Punk Is Soooooo ‘05” rather loudly. Nowhere near the top of my lungs, because that would wake everyone up, and it was only half past eight.

I stopped, raised an eyebrow at him, and gave an amused snort. “Who pissed in his Lucky Charms?” I asked, turning to Matt and Sean, both drinking coffee at the table.

Matt shot me a wry look. “Three guesses and the first two don’t count.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “I should've suspected. What happened?”

The three of us jumped at the sound of the television remote hitting the wall and turned to stare at Jesse, glowering at the newly broken pieces scattered on the floor. “Last night I asked her what she wanted to do once tour was over,” he declared bitterly. He turned his dark eyes to me. “You know what she said? ‘It’s not like it matters anyway. Chicago is worlds away from San Francisco.’ Can you believe that?”

He sat back with against the couch, arms still fold and feet still crossed and resting on the coffee table. To someone who didn’t know him like I did, Jesse just looked ticked off beyond belief, angry to the point of hurting cute fuzzy animals. Or Matt. But I could see how utterly heart-broken he looked; it struck me as a surprise that he’d managed to get out of bed.

I crossed the room to him and leaned to kiss his cheek. “I’ll go talk to her,” I told him. Then I swiped the key I’d left on the table when I grabbed my stuff to go to Ryan’s room the night before, and headed out the door, leaving Matt and Sean confused.

I strolled back to Ryan’s room, where he and Jon were contemplating if they had time to get food before packing their stuff, and searched through my bag for my lyric book. Once I found it, I flipped to a page in the middle and slipped a photograph out of the makeshift pocket. Leaving promptly, only pausing to kiss Ryan’s cheek without a word, I wandered back to Aromi’s, Beth’s and my room and unlocked it.

Aero and Beth were on the couch, watching television, Beth cuddled into Aero’s chest with a tempestuous look her face. I strode in and stood right in front of them, blocking the TV. “Could you--” Beth demanded, but I stuck the picture in her face.

Image

“This is what you’re giving up,” I reminded seriously. Her eyes widened, glued to the picture. “If you let that boy escape you’re going to make both yourself and him miserable, and you’ll regret it for months, if not longer.”

Beth raised a hand and slowly took the picture from my hand to stare at it in her own hand. Aromi, having abandoned trying to looking around me at whatever the hell he was watching, looked over her should and smiled. “I love that one,” he said, grinning at me.

“Why the hell do you have this?” Beth asked, snapping out of her trance and raising an eyebrow up at me.

I smiled my secret, coy half-smirk that I usually reserved for friends back home when they asked about band things. “Plenty more where that came from, sugar.” I plucked it out of her grasp with two fingers and leaned into her face as my smile grew. “Of course, if you stop being a recluse and admit you’re crazy about him, you can see a whole lot more than just his six-pack.”

I darted a step back laughing as she swiped at me. With a wave, I returned to the guys, taking a detour to pick up my bag from Jon and Ry, and flipped on the couch beside Jesse, still sitting there moping. “All done,” I said brightly. “Soon she’ll be on you like Danielle on one of my cute friends.” He made a dubious face at me, and I grinned blithely. “Trust me. When have I been wrong about these things?”

“Well, there was the time--”

Stai farmo, Matteo.

A few hours later, just after we'd passed into the lovely state of New York, I pulled my buzzing phone from my pocket and rolled my eyes at the picture of Gabe winking luridly at me. "Hello, Gabriel," I greeted, smiling.

"Angie," he chided.

I laughed. "Fine. Hola, mi amante caliente."

"Hola! Cómo estás, bella?"

"What do you want, Gabe?" I asked, rolling my eyes. Usually Gabe wanted something when he made me speak Spanish. Although, when he didn't want something, he was highly entertaining.

"You." I raised an eyebrow. "And Beth to come to dinner."

Beth, sitting across from me, glanced up with an arched eyebrow. "Details, Gabe darling." I mouthed 'dinner?' at her, receiving a shrug in return.

"Me and some of the guys want to get out, and you know that it's not a party without the most attractive blonde-redhead duo on tour."

"I'm not even going to touch that one," I decided. "But sure. We're up for dinner."

"Sweet. Wear something hot you'd wear to an exclusive club."

I frowned curiously. "Why would we..." Looking at my phone I realised he'd hung up on me. "Well, goodbye to you too, Gabe." I shut my phone and stretched out on the couch. "He says wear some club attire."

After a moment of staring at me, Beth turned her head and called into the back, "Hey, Jesse! Want to go to dinner?" And the look of bewilderment on her face was almost hilarious as he called back, "No!" But I didn't laugh. That would've resulted in death.

Apparently I'd made a good decision with the short, slightly flouncy-skirted, black-and-white polka dot dress and skinny jeans. But none was more appreciated than Beth's choice of attire: a deep royal blue v-neck halter and matching skirt that clung around her legs. I was lucky enough to escape attention and slink over to Spencer with her unwitting help. "This is what we call visual revenge in the biz," I remarked, leaning on his shoulder.

Dinner proceeded innocently enough-- well, as innocent as one could get with these guys. We had fun at some little Chinese place one of the more seasoned tour men knew from hanging around New York. There was a small ruckus when the guys insisted on picking up Beth's and my section of the bill, but after an amazing display of stealth and trickery by one Rian Dawson-- that is, keeping quiet and sending the waiter away with the check-- we settled.

"So someone has to spill," Beth said, taking a last sip of her drink, "Why are we dressed to attract all attention?"

"Because we like looking at you," Alex grinned blithely. I'd kept an eye on him; he'd had at least three drinks.

"Off to AK47," Gabe announced, getting up and making the whole table follow.

"Party! Woo!" Jack yelled just before we exited the restaurant. I hadn't even kept track of how drunk Jack was getting.

I caught Gabe by the arm, almost losing a step in my four-inch heels. It was weird not having to look up so much at him and it was downright awesome looking down at Alex and Jack. "You realise no one in this group but you is twenty-one, right?"

He nodded and hailed a cab. "Yeah, but Pete agreed to let you kids in and have fun. After all, you're a grown woman. I think you've proven you can watch yourself." He winked and opened the cab door for me. I rolled my eyes and pulled Beth in after me, forcing Gabe into the front seat when she pulled Spencer in after her.

Both sections of our little dinner party arrived at the same time as some of the other guys, and I was fortunate enough to latch onto Bill’s arm to get through the door; Beth was almost unlucky, getting stuck with Alex, but good for her, Zack was nearby. Once through the door, though, we were stuck at the hip again, looking with quiet smirks over the dancing crowds.

I caught Spencer eying us and heard him say to the others, “Until they get found by their... things, I vote we try to keep them from getting assaulted.” Apparently Alex and Jack weren’t for that, as they pranced off, probably to procure more alcohol and find pretty girls.

“Things,” I repeated with a chuckle. “I like that.” Leaning into Beth, I lowered my voice. “How fast can we lose them?”

“Sans heels, a minute at most,” she replied, glancing idly around. “With, it’s a little trickier.” Her blue eyes stuck in one place before moving on. “Tattooed property owner descending at three o’clock.”

I did my best not to look or seem remotely interested as Pete strolled up between us, arms around our waists and a grin on his face. “Glad you could make it,” he said over the din of the growing crowd. “And looking quite fine as usual.”

“You know,” I supposed, slipping from his grasp, “Through this whole tour, I’m almost sick of getting compliments.”

Pete chuckled, flashing Beth another smile as she squirmed away from him. “Deal with it, gorgeous. I think you're quite the looker tonight, so you're stuck.”

Smiling slyly, I leaned in closer to him. “Buy us a drink, Pete?”

“Give us a kiss, Pen?”

I straightened up, surprised, and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Beth. She eyed him suspiciously and after a moment shook her head at me. I smiled sweetly at Wentz. “Maybe later.” Linking arms, Beth and I strolled off in the direction of the dance floor.

Not that we were ready to dance. There was plenty of dancing to be had later, once everyone was more relaxed. In the meantime, Beth was steering me towards Jon Walker standing near the bar, knowing that he was legal and of questionable moral fibre. Sometimes. Maybe.

However, the man was smart as well, since when we flanked him, smiling, he looked between us and said, “You want something, don’t you?”

“Naturally,” Beth replied, grinning, “And you'll get our undying gratitude, and we might even be able to get Ryan to stop pouting if you help us.” Jon seemed intrigued by this idea; apparently he hadn’t taken kindly to me ‘ignoring him’ the whole day. “If you contribute to the delinquency of minors.”

He turned his head to look at me seriously. “You’re going to get someone in trouble,” he pointed out.

“It’s one drink, Jonno,” I contested with only a minor pout. “We’re not tiny, frail girls. Plus you’ve seen my tolerance, if not my compatriot’s. You can even decide what the drink is!” With a sigh, Jon went off towards the nearest bartender, and I called after him, “Get Beth an AK Lemonade!”

Beth looked at me suspiciously as he ordered our drinks, most of them on the menu amusingly named after songs. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” she inquired warily, crossing her arms.

I gave her a virtuous smile and gratefully took my drink from Jon. “I would never dream of such a thing.” I then proceeded to down half my drink. “I, on the other hand, will be lucky if I can remember my name in an hour.”

Jon looked ready to protest-- and I didn’t blame him for that-- but at that moment Sisky appeared in our midst. “Man, how the hell do you score drinks so easily?” he asked, leaning against the bar.

I smiled and sipped my drink. “Being prettier than you,” I responded, shooting a glance at Beth, who was eying her drink.

“She’s trying to drink me under the table, isn’t she?”

“Man, she almost drank me under the table,” Jon said, shaking his head.

“Whatever! That’s in the past!” Hrm. Someone was excited about being here. And Adam was excitable in general. “Would either of you lovely ladies care to dance?”

Beth raised an eyebrow. “You’re short. You’re infantile. You don’t strike any fancy I’ve ever had. I’ll take a rain check.”

Tilting my head back to get the last of the liquid, I set the empty glass on the bar. “I’ll humour you.” Both Jon and Beth looked at me perplexedly like I had lost my mind. Maybe I had somewhere. But I shrugged. “I haven’t done anything to shake up the routine in almost an hour.”

My darling Beth laughed. “Where’s Alex? I’ll join you.” And just like out of a cartoon, Gaskarth slid up to our group with a grin plastered to his face, half-hidden by his disarrayed hair. I chuckled and led Sisky by the hand into the throng, leaving the others to trail after.

Adam didn’t seem keen on conversation, however, so soon I grew a mite bored and began watching other people. That’s how I noticed Jesse, looking frantic, talking to JWalk and the latter gesturing towards us. And then Jack bounced up to them and Jesse made a face at whatever he said, nervously ruffling up his hair. After chugging the rest of Beth’s drink that she’d left behind, Trill looked at the crowded dance floor and submersed himself.

I took this as an opportunity to take my leave of my fellow bassist, who didn’t seem to mind much. “That’s probably the youngest I’d ever consider dating,” I declared, returning to the company of Jon and Jack, “And I was still bored. No wonder I don’t hang out with people my age.”

Jack beamed at me, looking like a little boy hoping to get a treat. “Jesse went to go find Beth. Is that good?”

Laughing, I patted his head. “Yes, it is.” I paused, smirking. “Oh, or did you mean for Alex?”

He grinned again and hugged me. “Silly Penelope. Alex can’t get hurt. He’s already drunk!”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course he is.” I eyed Jack, not letting go of me and taking great delight in the hug. “And how much have you had to drink, Barakat?”

“Not too much,” Jack replied with a grin.

Jon, up until this point silent in the conversation, looked between us. “Bloodthirsty creatures, aren’t you both?”

“Me?” I asked, trying to subtly pry the skinny guitarist off me. “Certainly. Him? He’s just plastered.”

That got him off. And offended. “I am not!” he protested, putting his hands on his hips.

JWalk only shook his head and walked away. I smiled after him, and it softened as I leaned into Jack, batting my eyelashes. “Buy us some shots then,” I suggested softly. Jack beamed, all traces of indignation gone, and went to find a bartender.

Just as he came back, Beth returned, pulling Alex along, and dropped him beside his best friend. “That was boring,” she griped quietly to me. I could only laugh, as the pretty bartender set out two shot glasses on the bar beside us. Alex, apparently, took Jack’s and my clinking glasses and drinking as business and tried to pull Beth away for more. She, on her part, did a wonderful job of ignoring him. “Was yours this drunk?”

“No,” I admitted, watching the glass get filled again, “But this one is.” I downed the shot, shaking my head as the alcohol burned in my throat.

Jack tugged on Beth’s elbow. “Dance. Alex, you take Angie.”

Beth shot me a look as Alex shrugged and sauntered over to me. I blinked at him and then at Jack. “I’m morally opposed to simulating sexual acts in public,” I tried to argue.

However, I was no match for Jack Barakat, the hyperactive bouncing puppy of doom, and his friend Alex Gaskarth, the slightly lecherous but still somehow charming drunken lout. “It’s just a dance, babe,” the latter said, pulling me by the hips. And I will admit: dancing with Alex was better than dancing with Adam-- not just due to the height difference.

But I still had to move his hands a handful of times. “I will only continue to be your friend, Alex,” I declared, rolling my head back on his shoulder to reach his ear, “If you accept the fact that I will more than likely never even lock lips with you, let alone have sex with you.”

He chuckled warmly and moved his lips to my ear. “Deal, darling, but it’s that chance that’ll keep me going.”

And that was about the point I decided I didn’t want to dance with him anymore. Luckily I had my wonderful Australian friend Michael pluck me out of Alex’s grasp into safety. “You alrigh’?” he called as I laid my head on his shoulder.

“I could use a drink,” I said, more to myself than him.

Michael laughed. “If you insist, ah c’n only do as th’lady asks.” I blinked up at him, bewildered, and grinning he led me off the dance floor to a table. I looked out onto the people as he went to procure drinks; I rolled my eyes, half-amused, when I spotted Beth and Jack dancing in compromising positions.

Michael and I talked for a bit, idling sipping our drinks and gazing around in the pauses, until he drew my attention from the pretty colours of my drink. “Is it a bad thing if your guitarist is descending frothing at the mouth?”

I glanced over. “Probably,” I said nonchalantly, taking another sip.

“Which is t’say, free entertainment?”

“Aren’t we the vindictive one, Chis?” I said with a smile.

He shrugged innocently. “When i’s not me,” he admitted, pulling me up and towards the ensuing fight. I grinned, coming up on the drama currently in progress; Jesse looked about ready to kill Jack, who was utterly confused.

“Well, this isn’t at all juvenile,” Beth remarked, striking the classic “annoyed female” pose: hands on hips, leaning on back leg, chin tilted up.

Jesse turned a dark look towards her. “You’re one to talk about maturity,” he shot back. "You're the one using that--" and by that, he meant her outfit "-- to get at me for my deserved respite."

Jack, staring wide-eyed back and forth between the two, I took pity on-- because it wasn’t really his fault-- so I tugged him beside me to watch. “Wouldn’t it suck if you got your drunk ass hurt?” I posed grinning. He nodded furiously.

In the meantime, Beth was demanding, “Do you expect me to wait for you? Stand around doing nothing, when this only lasts a night?”

“Well, if you're so damn impatient,” Jesse retorted, “why don't you do something about it? I'm trying to figure you out here, and it's hard when I don't know if the next word out of my mouth is going to make you laugh or walk away.”

Beth gave him her infuriating quiet, knowing smirk. “You aren't the only one who wants to live it up. Stop thinking. Start doing.” Trill stared at her a moment. “Dedication takes a lifetime. Dreams only last for a night.”

After another pause, he pulled her close to him. “You want action? I'll give you action.”

I rolled my eyes. “And that's my cue to get the hell away from here,” I muttered, turning on my heel, wavering a moment, and striding off. I couldn’t care less if the other two stuck around to watch; it would be creepy, but I was more than buzzed, so what did it matter to me?

Jack caught my arm and pulled on it. “What’s going on? What’d I do?”

“Come on, Jackieboy. Let’s go find somewhere quieter and less populated by people playing tonsil hockey.”

We never found anywhere quiet, seeing as it was a popular club and there was the buzz of famous people in the air, but we did run into a smiling William Beckett, pulling along a cute brunette. “Jack, this is Tiffany,” he introduced. “She’s a big fan of your hair. Why don’t you two go make nice?”

I giggled-- yes, I’ll admit I giggle when I’m drunk-- as they disappeared together and Bill led me towards a secluded table. Instead of sitting on the chair he pulled out for me, I sat on his lap and looped my arms around his neck. “So what was that nicety for?” I asked.

William clasped his hands together behind my back as I began to slip off his lap. “Saving your sobriety,” he replied.

I pouted. “That’s no fun. Why would you want to do that?”

“Because I value your sanity, and Ryan's-- which means mine.”

With a resigned shrug, I sighed. “Should’a stayed with Jack.”

“Probably,” Bill agreed, adjusting me in my seat. “But now you’re stuck with me, princess.”

“How’s this fun?” He looked up, smiling, at someone stopping beside our table. I slowly followed his gaze to Ryan, studying me unsurely. I arched an eyebrow at the skinny singer on whom I sat. “If you didn't such nice hair, Lamppost, I'd hate you.”

He could only laugh as Ryan unwound my arms and gently pulled me up; the sudden shift in altitude made me dizzy and I clutched onto him. "How much have you had to drink?" he asked, supporting me.

A second later I was yanked out of his grasp and stumbled into Pete. "I'll be stealing your girlfriend for a while," he announced with a grin. "She'll be back in one piece." Then Pete pulled me off towards the DJ booth. "Come on!"

"Slow down!" I protested, trying to fall into my usual stride. I smiled ironically. "~Alright, alright, slooow down!~"

Pete chuckled. "Man, how wasted are you?"

A slow smile grew on my face. "Enough to take you up on your offer."

He stopped and blinked at me, surprised, before shaking his head slightly. "Well, I was going to make you guest DJ, but I think that plan is better." Pete pulled me off in a different direction, against towards the bar. I gave the bartender a friendly smile when he greeted me. "Two Black Mambas."

"Egotists, the lot of them," I muttered dryly as our drinks were made. Pete only rolled his eyes at me before gesturing, hands occupied, towards the stairs. After a few minutes of weaving through people and getting a lot of greetings, most of which I don't remember, Pete handed me one of the glasses and opened a door, revealing an empty room.

I looked around interestedly as I slipped off my shoes; I'd never been in a VIP room before. Unfortunately with my attention elsewhere, Pete was able to take the shot glass from my hand again. I frowned as he downed one himself. "You don't get this," he said, holding it up, "Until you deliver your side of the bargain."

"But you had yours." I paused, frowning thoughtfully. "And aren't you straight-edge?"

"I'm over twenty-one, and yeah, but I need some liquid confidence to attempt this."

"You also are incapable of creating a sound and specific contract, as the terms under which we agree stated, 'a kiss'." I smirked. "I could kiss your cheek and you wouldn't be able to deny me that liquid embodiment of William Beckett's genius."

While I spouted off mocking logic and strange half-compliments, Pete placed the shot on a nearby table and once I had finished, tugged me to him by the back of the neck. "Come off it, Ange."

Tally up my number of people made out with to... four. Wow, I did not uphold the 'rock star party girl' image at all. But still, there was something to be said for kissing a rich, famous man who was practically engaged to a pop star and had been starting puberty when I was born in a back room of the club that he owns. Remind me not to bring up the puberty thing; Pete hated it when I called him old.

...He tastes like cranberries and vodka.

My mind was all over the place, mostly due to the amount of alcohol imbibed that night but also partly because I always sort of lost it during kisses. Particularly when the other person was on the aggressive side of proactive. Which Pete was.

When we broke apart, my eyelids fluttered open. That had oddly sobered me up, and after a second, I became even more aware of my actions. "Oh shit," I whispered under my breath, laying a hand on my forehead. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit." I grabbed the shot glass off the table and threw it back. Drunk was better than sober and regretful at this point.

Pete was trying to fix his hair, which apparently I'd screwed up. I couldn't tell the difference. I stood staring blankly at the air, mind working at a thousand miles an hour. "Go call Ashlee, Pete," I mumbled tonelessly. "Tell her you love her."

"Are... you okay?" he asked, worried. I saw him wave his hand in front of my face, but couldn't snap out of it.

"I'll be fine." My voice was pitched too high. Did it always do that when I lied? "You go be the entrepreneur and please your public." No, apparently it was just right then.

Peter scrutinised me, still looking worried, and unlocked the door. Smart man; I hadn't thought of that. "I'm going to go find Ryan," he announced, walking out.

My head snapped up. "No, don't!" But too late, as he'd already gone. I looked at the carpet miserably for a long time before sitting down to put on my shoes again. You just cheated on your boyfriend, I stated to myself in disorientation. Right after you fixed things for him cheating on you. There's no word for the level of hypocrisy to which you've sunk. You're a horrible person.

"Rhi?" I looked up slowly at Ryan; just the sight of him and the knowledge of what I'd just done made my heart break. He held me up from the floor and brushed some hair away from my face. "Are you alright? Pete said you were kind of freaking out."

A lump had welled in my throat and I sniffled. He hugged me tightly, and it only make me choke on a sob. "I'm fine," I whispered hoarsely. "I'm just drunk. Just ignore me."Forget about me. It's what I deserve.

"I won't ignore you," Ryan promised resolutely. "I love you." Cue tears. God, I hated crying. He pulled away and wiped them away with his thumb. "C'mon. There's a twenty-four hour coffee place on the way back to the hotel."

As we walked through the club, I couldn't even try to smile for all the people we knew. I caught sight of Pete, smiling as he talked into his phone. Ashlee would never know, and they'd go on being the happy couple of the music scene. I wished I could say the same for myself; I didn't think I could lie to anyone, especially Ryan, like that.
♠ ♠ ♠
I hope the unusual length of this chapter makes up for the fact that I forgot/ was too tired to post it this past weekend like I'd planned. I owe a certain someone an apology for that.

Drop me a line. I like talking to people.