"Not now Riles, I'm not in the mood," he stormed passed me, his guitar case barging me into the wall. He slammed the door behind him as he entered his room, not saying a word to leave me out of the dark shadow of confusion I was under. Lincoln stepped out of his room and quirked his eyebrow in confusion.

"That's weird, Chase never brings his guitar home." He said before gasping in sudden realisation "unless..." He went into his brothers room and I could hear the sliding lock click into place. Great. Why was it that Lincoln instantly knew what was the matter and I didn't?

I mean sure they were brothers but my quick wit should have let me understand the situation just as easily. I hate not knowing things, it makes me feel guilty even when it's not my fault, well hopefully not anyway.

We ate dinner in silence that night. Where we usually would flick cutlery across the table, instead the forks, spoons and knives remained either in our hands or by our own plate firmly on the table.

What was actually about 20 minutes felt like hours, in the empty depressing atmosphere that on usual occasions would be filled with random conversations or foolish arguments.

In sync, the two brothers stood up and excused themselves from the table, leaving their dishes by the sink as it was mine and Ashley's turn to wash up. Knowing for sure that she knew what was going on, I began to ease the topic in to our conversation, cleverly trying not to blatantly state the question in a rude manner.

"I've never seen Chase bring his guitar home before, is there something the matter with it?" I knew in all certainty that this was far from the case but the more oblivious I sounded in the situation the better.

Ashley's bright blue eyes seemed to dull to a pale grey as I asked said question. It was clear I'd hit a sensitive subject but when Riley Gondola wants to know something, one way or another, she would find it out.

"There's no light way of saying this so I'll just say it straight up how it is," she began, taking a deep breath and collecting her words. "Chase was kicked off his band." I couldn't have been less discreet as I gasped loudly, the sound reverberating off the walls and down the hall.

"He's thinking of trying to get back into uni or getting a job as an attorney as his parents originally wanted. The only problem with that is that he'd neglected his education by dropping out of school 4 years ago and with little to no qualifications and a bad reputation at school, the chances of this happening are so slim I could call them impossible."

I felt a pang of guilt hit me hard in the chest. I had mocked him for choosing music over law school saying it was better for him this way as he hadn't a chance in such a prestigious place. It finally occurred to me that all his nights at clubs and concerts weren't just in vain but because it was the only way he could pursue a sustainable career. One that would allow him to pay off rent and keep him and his little brother healthy and alive.

I hated it when I got involved in sentimental issues and new that to get rid of this annoying darkness there was only one thing I could do:

Find Chase a new band to play in.

I had a restless sleep that night. Guilt started clogging my lungs and my breathing became raspy. I had mini depressive attacks like this whenever I felt extremely sad or angry, it didn't happen often but when it did, I knew it would be (or feel like) a long while till it cleared.

I decided that since a sleepless night was inevitable I would make myself a cup of tea, in order to settle my nerves. Notice I said tea not coffee, proof of my Britishness and also because it was 3am and I didn't think caffeine was going to do me any good.

When I entered the small, confined kitchen, I noticed a peculiar presence in the room. It was Chase. In all honesty, I wasn't that surprised to have seen him; the poor guy already suffered insomnia since he was a child and to have such a horrible thing happen to him, it would have been impressive if he managed to get at least a half hour of rest.

"Hey," I began quietly, making it known to him that someone else was in the room. He lifted his head up from the table and forced a small smile at me.

"Oh, hey Riles." Chase was in such a pitiable state that it almost brought me to tears. He was always so self-confident and headstrong that it was impossible to tell that he'd had such a tragic past. Seeing him now was like visiting a flower or forest in the winter; the atmosphere was cold and lifeless.

I walked over to the cabinet and retrieved two Earl Grey teabags and popped them into to two mugs; my tartan-patterned coffee mug and his music-themed one. I decided we could have a nice friendly chat to lighten up his moods. If it worked on that boy from the bus, there's no stopping it from working on my 'brother'.

When the kettle switch flicked up I poured the boiling aqua into the two mugs. To me, making tea was like an exact science, I had worked out a ratio of water to milk that acquired to each person's tastes.

Chase liked his tea stronger than mine, he preferred traditional Earl Grey rather than herbal or citrus teas which were more to my liking. I took the two steaming cups to the table and the clink made him lift his head up. I grinned at his surprised expression, he was obviously not expecting such a kind gesture from someone like me.

"What's this?" He asked, quirking his eyebrow. I eased myself into a chair and took a sip of the piping hot brew.

"It's tea, what else?" He groaned in annoyance, rolling his eyes dramatically. I pulled a smug smirk, a bit too proud of my not-very-smart-and-only-slightly-funny remark.

"You know what I meant." He sighed.

I smiled again. For someone who had just been having a large depressive panic, I'd become exceptionally cheery and upbeat. In fact, I don't think I'd ever smiled so much in this dreary household before.

"You looked slightly downhearted today and I thought, since we both couldn't sleep, we could chat over some of your favourite tea." I didn't mention the fact that I knew the reason behind his distress as he was a very private person who didn't take kindly to people interfering with his personal life. 'If he wants to tell, he will' I thought 'and if he doesn't, I'll respect him for it'.

He looked up from his stare-down at the now going cold substance in his cup. When his gaze locked with mine, I think I finally understood the true nature of his pain. Through one small look, I felt that I got to know him better. How corny, am I right?

He pulled another forced smile and nodded, expressing his gratitude.
"Thanks," he began "I'm sorry about your cheesecake, I just really needed to eat something comforting after getting a really, startling message." He took his phone from pocket, unlocked it and passed me it.

I scrolled through his messages with 'Maxie', the leader singer of his band. They were so unorthodox that not even I, the bearer of bad news, was able to comprehend such suddenness. The conversation began earlier this afternoon with a brief short message on Max's behalf simply stating 'Sorry but, we're kicking u out the band Chase' to which the probably flabbergasted Chase replied 'Whoa, slow down, what do you mean?! Please tell me this is a joke!'

I couldn't restrain a gasp as I continued to look further down at the blunt, offensive comments sent by his band mates, giving him a heartbreakingly long list of why he is no longer wanted and all the flaws he 'had to make up for if he wanted to even consider rejoining them'.

When I was done, I gently placed the phone down on the table, the soft click gaining his attention. I didn't really know what to say to this. Well to Chase anyway.

On the other hand, I had a very good, detailed idea of what I would say to 'Maxie and co.' should I ever find a chance to meet them before they go to New York to record their debut album with the infamous record label: Lyte Dark Records (I find the fact that he mentioned this in the conversation is highly irrelevant and just asking for a throw down).

"Hey Chase, can you talk me down to one of your music clubs tomorrow night? I really want to see where you liked to spend most of your time." He thought for a moment before curtly nodding and murmuring something inaudible.

I took a deep breath in and stood up, taking the cups over to the sink to wash them. We didn't bother with a dishwasher, not only were they costly but you couldn't get the enjoyment of playing with soapsuds if you put them in a machine.

He stood up to help me, offering to dry them –the easiest task ever but I didn't want to be rude. Chase was a very tall, skinny guy of 22. Even people who were older than him (like my sister) would have to tilt their head up a considerable amount in order to make eye contact with him.

Unlike his older brother, who I had briefly met before he ran off for America, acne had been kind to his face, but not his hands, arms or neck. He had light signs of a muscular build which I figured was either from running and jumping around a stage holding a guitar or whacking drums with stick at an alarming rate for about 3 hours a day.

All the more reason for him to do more washing up than me I sighed rolling my eyes. He gave me a funny look before awkwardly smiling and putting the cups back on the cup holder.

As I dried my hands, I attempted to keep a conversation going, really wishing that my mind acted as a random conversation generator sometimes. I asked him if before we went to one of his clubs, if he wanted to go to one of the local cafés –his treat for eating my cheesecake (I knew how to hold a grudge).

Before I went to bed Chase stopped me, ruffling his huge web-like hand in my messy knotty hair.

"Riles," He began, smiling, "Thanks. Talking through it with someone other than my blunt, oblivious brother helped me a lot. My life's been brightened slightly -I'd say if it actually had been but you know, you didn't help too much." I laughed through clenched teeth, trying to disguise the bitterness surfacing in my voice.

Forcing myself not to make a sassy remark, I quickly mumbled 'goodnight' and walked into my bedroom, crashing onto the mattress that bounced gently against the sudden addition of weight. It took me a couple minutes (well what I think was a couple of minutes) before I was out like a candle on a little kid's birthday cake -I think that's an accurate synonym.

I woke up a bit too early that following morning (or later that day if you want to be smart and state the fact that I slept in the morning -seeing as it was after midnight).

Opening out my curtains, I could see, just barely made out behind the blurry layer of condensed, that the sun had just begun to rise. I don't think I'd ever woken up to see the sunrise, especially not on a weekday; in winter.

It was fair and acceptable to say that I was excited to go to a music club but I'd specifically said 'tomorrow night'. So, the fated question began burning into my mind; what was I going to do until then?