‹ Prequel: Pictures on Silence

If Only Until Morning

Chapter 9

I still hadn't moved when the door to the bus slammed open several hours later. Apparently Matt was still livid by the way Sean was frantically trying to coax him. "Explain to me what the fuck your problem is," he demanded, stopping in front of me and crossing his arms.

"Matt, shouldn' you--" Sean tried.

"Shut up, Vanderpol," Matt growled before rounding on me again. I stared expressionlessly at him; unable to bring myself to show any emotion at all, much less formulate a response. Matt glared back. "Speak."

Somehow my brain managed to get enough juice to wonder vaguely if I should even try. Face dark with fury, Matt grabbed me by the front of the shirt and tugged me up; I hung like a rag doll in his grip as we stared at each other. He shook me, sending my head rattling back and forth.

Jesse rushed forward and pulled me away from Matt. "Dude," he said in mild disbelief. My head lolled against his shoulder as I tried to convince my legs to fully support my weight. Luckily, Jesse lowered me to the couch again.

Matt ran a hand over his eyes. "I'm sorry, it's just..." He broke off with a sigh. "You've never been like this before, Angie. What's... what's wrong?"

See, the thing about this whole situation is that, sure it made me feel terrible about myself, but it also angered me to no end. And the thing about me is that when I get genuinely angry, not just miffed or annoyed, I get cold. And seeing how I always seems to know how to push buttons, that makes me very, very dangerous.

Still not removing my gaze from Matt's hard green eyes, I spoke as evenly as I could. "I've never told a lie," I said softly. "And that makes me a liar."

Silence swallowed the bus for a few long moments before Matt shook his head. "If you're going to be like that, fine. Catering started putting food out anyway." And then he walked off the bus like nothing mattered. Jesse sent me a strange look before following him.

Sean, however, stayed. "You're not gonna to give up on this, are yeh?" he asked quietly.

I shook my head, giving a soft laugh. "You know me: I'm a woman of conviction."

He nodded understandingly and stood up. "I just don' want the band to suffer because of 'er, y'know? We work much too hard to break up over some new chit who doesn' agree with th' vibe." I watched Sean as he exited the bus; not that it was a competition or anything, but that sounded like an agreement to me. Or at least a vote of neutrality.

Feeling a little better, I trailed long after my band mates to where everyone ate. As I made to line up behind Zack Merrick, someone stepped right in front of me, jerking me to a stop. "We have to talk," Ryan said seriously. Without waiting for a reply, he grabbed my hand pulled me away from the line.

An angry Ryan Ross is not a good one. Someone save me?

"Alison told me you spent the entire day in the booth torturing her?" he informed me inquisitively, crossing his arms.

I blinked. Damn, this bitch moved fast. "First off, I was being held there against my will--"

"So you decided to take it out on her?"

I frowned. Obviously she'd being working him something awful. "Don't jump to conclusions," I said airily, imitating his combative stance. "I've been trying to be polite, but she decided to take it upon herself to make my life hell."

Ryan narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Ali said that--"

"Who are you going to believe?" I cut in coldly. "Me or her?"

He sighed, only not the usual tired sigh. A frustrated, remote sigh that spoke volumes. "Right now, I don't know what to believe," he said calculatedly. "You haven't given me any reason to believe your word over hers."

"So the fact that I'm your girlfriend doesn't mean anything?"

"That's not what I meant. Why do you always have to be so cynical and twist words around?"

I stared at him affronted. "Well, pardon me for questioning the validity of another's statements, which I know to be untrue. It isn't my fault you chose to phrase it the way you did."

Ryan held up his hands and took a step back. "I can't deal with this right now," he said. "You're being way too paranoid. Talk to me again once you've got your head on straight." Then he turned and headed back into the maze of tables.

I watched him disappear, hurt and aggravated. Some of the nearer people were looking at me or at Ryan, and it made me sick to my stomach, knowing that I'd made a spectacle of myself. So I crossed to an empty table, sat down on the bench, and held my head in my hands.

Maybe he's right, I thought miserably, staring at the chipping paint and wood. Maybe it's my fault again and all of this is just in my head... who am I kidding? Ali's a bitch who's out for blood. But why?

I gripped my hair in my fists and shut my eyes, trying to take long, deep breaths. God, I don't want to do this anymore.

"I believe you."

My head shot up and I shook my hair out of my face to find Michael Guy Chislett standing over me. His words struck me. "You do?" I asked quietly.Why would you do that? He nodded, kind smile growing on his face. My heart ached and I felt myself smiling hopefully. "Thanks, Michael."

My eyes followed him down the aisle to where he sat down with TAI and some other guys. I surveyed the group for a few moments before getting up myself and making my way into the noise.

"Gentlemen," I greeted, stopping beside a table. The occupants looked up from their meals and conversation to halloo me in return. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," Shawn said, scooting over to make room. I squished between him and Matt Whalen and smiled at the group as they returned to conversation. I didn't really join in for a while, but I felt comfortable.

Which was more than could be said for, say, anywhere else.

~Ryan~

"I just don't get it. It's not like her to blow up at someone like that, but there's no way that what she says about Ali can be true; she's way too much of a sweetheart."

Matt had been rambling on about my girlfriend since I joined the table, and after a few minutes, I'd stopped trying to process his reasoning. Sure, he had legitimate points, but there wasn't anywhere to go with it. There wasn't any evidence for either.

I'd put my two cents in at the beginning and said no more about it. And quite frankly, I didn't want to think about it at all.

"But what am I supposed to go on?" Matt continued to himself, still ignoring the full plate of food in front of him. "I mean, I've known Ali since I was fourteen, but I know Angie's behaviour patterns way better, and she's never exactly been one to hide dislike for anyone who she thinks deserves it."

"How good of a judge of character can she be?" Spencer asked. "She's only known her for two weeks. She's got have a bitchy side. Every girl does."

Oh yeah, bring up my girlfriend's shortcomings. I rolled my eyes. Talking about her behind her back is really going to help.

"But what if she is telling the truth?" Jon put in, forking more food.

"If she is telling the truth," Jesse said, "Then we're making her less emotionally stable than she already is."

I just shook my head and kept eating. Just because I didn't want to think about this drama didn't mean they could badmouth her in front of me. I really just wanted them to drop this whole thing. Did it really matter if--

"I dunno," Brendon mused. "She looks pretty happy to me." That caught my attention, and I looked up to follow his gaze.

Angie sat at a table surrounded by these guys, and all of them were laughing and having a great time. I watched as one of them started a beat on the table and each of the others added another part, Angie adding a vocalised part that was beautiful as always carried all the way to our table. Then one of the guys next to her screwed up, and all of them laughed and made fun of him. He said something and Angie shoved him playfully, beaming. I had to restrain myself from leaping out of my seat when he wrapped a long arm around her shoulder. I gritted my teeth when she leant her head on his shoulder affectionately and laughed about something else.

Anger boiled in my stomach as I continued watching them, and it flared at every touch. Henuzzled leaned his head to hers, whispering I guessed, and she laughed, pushing him away. She looked so... comfortable and some kind of free.

I turned back to the table and stared into my plate. It hurt to see that, to see my girl having a grand old time with guyswho weren't me I didn't even know. All of a sudden, the surrounding argument came to mind, and I wasn't so sure of my answer. Someone had to be lying here, but who was it?

Ali's voice in my ear snapped me to attention. I smiled vaguely in greeting before looking across at Sean, who had stayed silent throughout the whole conversation I'd lost track of. "Who are they?" I asked, trying to sound casual, and nodded towards Angie. "Those guys?"

Sean glanced over and eyed me for a second. "The Matches," he replied, just as casual. "They're from 'round our area. Jon Devoto has the shaved 'ead, Justin San Souci's next to 'im, Matt Whalen is wearin' glasses, and the snappy dresser is Shawn Harris."

I glanced back: catching the way that gleaming white smile was directly at the lone female member. Sean wrapt his fingers on the table, bringing me back and watching the expression on my face. "They're Ange's favourite band," he told me. "She really looks up to 'em as musicians. Not t'mention they've been friends since the first show of theirs sh' went to."

The group drew my eyes again, getting up to throw away their garbage. As Angie followed them, she glanced back over her shoulder, and time seemed to stop as she caught my eye. My stomach squirmed. She still had that effect on me. But the moment passed and Angie's head turned away, hair flashing in the light.

"Ryro," Ali drawled, tugging on my sleeve. I blinked a few times and focused on her. "Don't look so sad. You're with friends." She smiled, perfectly straight, white teeth filling my vision. "You should smile your gorgeous smile."

I forced a smile. "Right." Friends. Forget about the bad. Forget about my girlfriend disappearing with guys I've never met. Forget that she's getting neck deep into a war with her merch girl. Forget...

Christ, I wasn't going to sleep tonight.