"Come on, Lay, you have to come!" Melanie pleaded. "It's FallOut!"

"I don't even know who they are!" Layea protested adamantly. "You know I've got an exam coming up, Mel."

"You'll do great no matter how much studying you do--or how little." Melanie was on her knees now, classic begging stance.

Layea bit back a laugh. Melanie had loved the band for years--since they made their debut, to be more exact, which was exactly three years and two days ago, according to Melanie.

Layea's best friend had the gorgeous long blonde hair everyone envied, and the beautiful blue eyes and long lashes to go with it. She had just the right amount of makeup on and a simple flower headband in her hair. She wore black boots with ripped black skinny jeans and a gray FallOut shirt. She looked jealousy-inducing gorgeous, as always.

Layea? She had short blonde hair that didn't quite fall to her shoulders, and green eyes the color of grass. Her cheeks were always a bit rosy and she rarely wore makeup. Her clothes were cute or old and comfy--never between. She hadn't been on a date since eleventh grade. Since, she'd had two one-night stands and that was it. She honestly hadn't even considered dating again, not yet. Her responsibilities came first--pay the bills, become a veterinarian, then date. It sounded simple, and so far, it had been.

Finally, Layea sighed and shut her textbook. "Fine. What should I wear?"

*****

As always, the venue was loud. It used to excite him--but not lately. Not today. Today, he wanted nothing more than to drown his sorrows in a huge tub of ice cream.

"Hey, buddy, you doing alright?" The sound of James' voice made him blink and look around.

The older boy was looking at him, as was the girlfriend. Both were members in the band, but the fourth member, Colin, was nowhere to be seen.

Again he blinked. "I don't know."

James sighed and sat on the couch beside him, placing a hand in his friend's shoulder. "Lewis. I know this day has been . . . well, shitty, to say the least. But I'm worried about you."

Lewis Gregory shook his hair out of his face. It was thick, short, kinda blondish-brown. His eyes were green--at one time they had shone with excitement. Not recently. Not today. Maybe not for awhile, maybe not ever--he sure felt that way.

"Do I really have to go on?" He whispered.

"I wish I could say no," James' sighed. "Colin is talking to the guys at management."

At that moment, Colin entered the room, shaking his head sadly. "They said you've gotta go up there, bud. I did all I could. They said you aren't sick."

"What if I made myself puke?" Lewis asked hopefully.

"Dude, gross, don't do that." Colin didn't do sick very well.

"I'll go on but you guys are really going to have to cover for me tonight." Lewis sighed, putting his head in his hands for a minute.

It was hard to believe that he could be so upset over the death of his father--they hadn't spoken in months, hadn't seen each other in at least a year. But he had been crushed when his little sister called him. A heart attack, she'd said, in the middle of the night.

He wondered if a part of him could have died hearing that. The funeral was in two days, and though he dreaded going, he knew he wanted to. It had always been his dad, when he was little--never someone else. He owed it to him, more or less just like he owed his band mates this show.

*****

"Mel, did I really have to wear this shirt?" Layea asked for the third time since they'd left the apartment.

She had refused to wear any FallOut merchandise, but Melanie had demanded that she wear a low-cut rose colored top. She was allowed to choose her own skinny jeans and boots, but the shirt was "un-negotiable."

"Stop tugging at it!" Melanie cried again, slapping Layea's hand off the shirt. "It's supposed to be low like that!"

"But you can see my boobs." Layea said quietly.

"No you can't! It's just cleavage. You rejected the boob shirt."

At that moment the announcer welcomed the band, and the crowds went wild. Layea watched with an arched eyebrow as two boys and one girl came on stage. One of the boys stopped, turned into the wings, and came back half-tugging a third guy.

There was a little chatter amongst the band and cheers from the crowd, jostling Layea. Somehow, Melanie had scored tickets in the nosebleeds--right at the center area of the stage, where they'd feel the sweat. Layea shuddered--gross.

"We agreed to tell you all that Lewis here won't be on his A-game today." One of the guys, a brunette named James, was saying. His arm was slung around a blondish-brown's shoulders.

Layea decided she would call him "the sandy brunette." His eyes seemed tired.

"See, his old man passed away last night, and he found out just this morning." James continued. "So we're going to give you a good show tonight despite that, ey?"

The crowd whooped, simultaneously giving their sympathies. Lewis didn't seem to care, and Layea felt bad as a single tear slipped down his cheek and hit the stage.

"I feel bad for him," she whisper-yelled to Melanie. Melanie smirked as she swallowed a gulp of beer. She would be drunk by the end of the concert.

"Hey, Lewis! Her hugs make everyone feel better!" Melanie's face was  full of laughter as she gave Layea a small push.

Nope. She was already drunk.

One of the guards caught Layea as she stumbled, but before she could step back, Lewis squatted down to meet her eyes.

"What's your name?" He asked. His voice was soft despite the little mic that hung by his mouth.

"Layea," she stammered.

"I'm Lewis," he held out a hand.

His grip was strong, but it didn't hurt her the way other men's had in the past. He was soft, his behavior, his skin, his eyes.

"I've never heard of you guys before." She blurted out.

Way to go, Layea, way to go.

To her surprise, Lewis laughed loudly.

Until this point, James had been entertaining the crowd, but now he looked over in surprise.

"Honest," Lewis smiled. "I like that." He hesitated. "This is the first time I've laughed all week."

Layea mentally calculated that. It was Wednesday. Something in his face still seemed sad, and she hesitantly held her arms out.

James' eyes widened, clearly unsure what to do, and he quickly started a song. The girl of the band, Jessie, started singing, and the crowd immediately ignored Lewis to watch her sing.

Layea kept her arms out, waiting; Lewis smiled softly and sat down so he wouldn't fall, then willingly wrapped his arms around her. Evidentally, this surprised the guard, and the man backed away hesitantly.

"I'm sorry about your father." Layea whispered.

Lewis didn't answer for a little. "Thanks."

He squirmed a little, and Layea let go of him. For a few seconds he simply sat watching her.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I appreciate it."

"Um . . . You . . . Uh . . . You should probably get back to . . . Uh . . . The concert. . ." Layea stuttered.

Lewis brushed a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Thank you . . . again. . ."

Layea smiled softly and almost tripped stepping back to Melanie. Melanie smirked, but kept her eyes on the band as though she had been watching them the whole time.

"You're drunk," Layea grumbled to her.

"Whatever," Melanie called back, tapping her foot to the beat.

They had started a new song now, and Layea turned back to see who was singing. To her surprise it was Lewis, center stage and putting all he had into the lyrics. His voice was loud from the microphone, but it was soft and it was, strangely, sort of calming. He was clearly very talented, and as the concert carried on she was quick to realize that he was the lead singer.

"Still wish you hadn't come?" Melanie asked, her smirk seeming permanent.

Layea didn't answer, and simply smiled.