"IF YOU WANT me to be honest, I think you're fucking crazy."

She might have been insulting him -- hell, even if she was, he appreciated the metaphorical nod of her acknowledgement -- but what really made Charlie smile from ear to ear was the sound of Billie's laugh through his phone speaker, as genuine and melodic as the music he could pluck forth from the strings of his acoustic.

It was bliss to even listen to her speak.

"How am I crazy?" he laughed, waiting to hear her clever response. She always had one up her sleeve.

"Well, you took a guy's band and made it your own, and you're going on the tour he was supposed to be on," Billie pointed out, still tripping over her words with laughter.

"Not to sound egotistical, but it was pretty much my band all along."

"Oh is that so?" she challenged. "You sound pretty egotistical right now to me."

"Yeah, that was egotistical, not going to lie."

They laughed again, and Charlie realized that the tops of his cheeks were aching from the amount of smiling he'd been doing with Billie over the phone. He was standing outside of his manager Ellen's Seattle office, hidden beneath an outstretch of covering that kept him dry from the last sprinkling bits of a storm that had rolled through.

Charlie loved anything having to do with band talk, and formulating ideas for Residual Riot, a band he could truly call his own kept him fully driven with energy. But that didn't mean that in the three hours that he'd already been talking with Ellen, Emerson and Grant, Billie had not crossed his mind.

He missed her. She was back in Los Angeles with filming obligations on her hands, and Charlie found himself wishing that he too was in the City of Angels. And Charlie hated Los Angeles, which only spoke volumes of how much in turn he cared for Billie.

"You can be egotistical around me. Bigheaded Charlie isn't so bad," Billie said. He could almost hear the smile in her voice, curving upwards on her beautiful face. He felt a pinch of longing in his chest to be in front of her, seeing that same smile in person.

"You know, you've sort of contributed to my bigheaded-ness."

"So now you're blaming me?" Billie cried, another bout of her laughter ensuing.

"Well, yeah, kinda'. Maybe I wouldn't be so egotistical if I wasn't aware of the fact that I have you."

Billie's laughter faded and she grew quiet, but Charlie didn't worry; it may have only been months since they'd gotten together, but he knew her periods of quietness were not usually held in anger. When Billie was quiet, it was because something really great was occupying her mind.

"I like it when you say that," she confessed, lowering her voice to almost a shy mumble.

Billie being shy? Charlie never thought he'd live to see the day.

"Then I promise I'll tell it to you every single time we talk," he replied, matching his voice to hers. There was nothing that Charlie wasn't willing to promise Billie.

All of his life, he'd balked over promising a girl anything -- not because he didn't want to, but because he felt like he would never measure up to those promises of grandeur. But with Billie, he didn't mind pledging himself to her in every way possible. If he had to promise her the moon, then of course he would lasso it down from the sky if he had to. He'd always find a way for her.

Charlie wasn't scared to be in love with her already.

He'd questioned his feelings at first, wondering maybe if his exuberance over Residual Riot and getting Liam out of his life once and for all was simply making him overly excited.

But it did not take long for Charlie to realize that he did love Billie, more than he'd ever loved a girl in his life before. Even just hearing her voice felt similar to when he had first ever made music on a guitar. It was an epiphany of suddenly knowing where life was taking you.

He planned on telling her sooner rather than later. Even if it horrified Billie to learn that a young, clueless musician had fallen in love with her so quickly, Charlie didn't care. He'd feel better at least knowing that she knew what she meant to him and how much of himself he was willing to give just so she'd be happy.

"What are you doing? Don't you have to get back inside?" Billie questioned.

"Probably, but I needed a long break," Charlie confessed.

Alongside Emerson, Grant, Ellen and a whole team of overseers of The Finks, an announcement had been formulated for the public that would explain the breakup of the band and the forthcoming of Residual Riot. Even Liam had stopped by to add in his input, looking haggard in sunglasses and sporting a five-o-clock shadow.

"You could take an even longer break in L.A.," Billie suggested coyly.

"I might take you up on that."

There really was no 'might' about the decision. Charlie only had several weeks left before he and the rest of the band were being shuttled off across the States for their tour. He was going to spend the last days of his free times with Billie, even if it meant being surrounded by snobby L.A. starlets and poor air quality.

"Charlie!"

Looking over his shoulder, Charlie caught sight of Emerson sticking his head out of the front door of Ellen's office. He was waving him forward to join him inside.

Charlie groaned. "They want me back. I'll call you as soon as I'm done."

"Have fun," Billie said good-naturedly, totally understanding of Charlie's responsibilities. That was the nice thing about her being an actress -- she intrinsically knew just how much demanding bullshit the entertainment industry expected out of their workers.

"What's up?" Charlie asked, pocketing his cellphone and approaching Emerson at the door.

"It's your parents. They called Ellen's office."

Charlie's ears perked at Emerson's announcement and he wrinkled his brow, concerned as to why his mom and dad would phone Ellen instead of his personal phone.

"Wait, why? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah man, they sounded fine. They just assumed you wouldn't have your phone on you since this is supposed to be a meeting and all."

"What did they say?"

"They said they wanted you to come over to their house as soon as possible. Something about a family meeting."

"A family meeting?" Charlie parroted, incredulity thick in his words.

Not once in his life had his parents ever called for family meetings. If something was wrong, either Kurt or Lindy usually straight up told him to his face. He'd been treated as an adult, a mutual, since he was a kid. And as far as he knew, Kurt and Lindy thought 'meetings' were bullshit.

"You in trouble?" Emerson cackled, loping alongside Charlie as they walked towards the expansive meeting room in the back of Ellen's office.

"Probably," Charlie muttered, although he struggled to surmise a valid reason as to why he'd been beckoned for a so-called family meeting.

"Did Emerson tell you that your mom and dad called?" Ellen asked as soon as Charlie crossed the threshold into the room.

"Yeah, I got the memo," Charlie said, collapsing into one of the "spinny" chairs (Grant's words, not his) lining the mahogany table in front of him.

"Well, aren't you going to go?" Ellen pressed, pursing her lips and twirling a pen between her fingers.

Ellen had always been like a second mother to Charlie. Part of the reason why his own mom trusted Ellen so much was because of this fact. She protected Charlie and the rest of the boys fiercely, never quite babying them too much, but always treating them sweetly as her surrogate sons.

That would after all explain the condescending way she was looking at Charlie in that moment.

"I'm supposed to go now?" Charlie sputtered. They'd amassed three hours of meeting time and still had not gotten to the root of several plans ahead of the band. He couldn't up and leave, not when he was supposed to be helping with the whole ordeal.

"Do you really think I'm going to go against what your mother and father say, Charlie?" Ellen questioned, as if such a thing were incapable of being true.

"We can do without you," Grant teased from the opposite side of the table, kicking his feet up and folding his hands across his chest. "Let the real geniuses do the work."

Charlie sighed grumpily and stood up, snatching his usual jean jacket from the back of his chair and shrugging it on. He could have chosen to stay, making Kurt and Lindy wait on him while he tended to his business ventures, but Ellen wouldn't have let it happen anyway. She'd been sic'd on him like a guard dog.

"Don't make any big decisions without me," he demanded before pushing his way out into the hallway, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

With a few agile taps of his fingers, he was calling Frances and raising the phone to his ear as he walked out once again into the dreary Seattle weather.

"Hello?" Frances answered, not sounding the least bit as jarred as Charlie felt.

"Have you been called in for this family meeting as well, or is it just me?"

"No, I got the call too. I'm on my way over there now. Lucky I was still in town, otherwise it would be just you going."

Charlie scowled. "I wouldn't do this alone. What the hell is a family meeting? Did we ever have family meetings as kids?"

"Not that I remember," Frances laughed. "If we were ever being assholes, they just told us so."

"Are we being assholes right now? Is that why they want to have a meeting?"

"I don't know, Char. How long has it been since you last displayed asshole tendencies?"

"Has anyone ever told you you're not funny?"

Frances's laughter rang again in his ear as Charlie located his car, unlocking the door and climbing in away from the chilly air.

"Yes, plenty of times, but does it look like I give a shit?"

"So that's that, then. We have no idea what's going on," Charlie said, giving up on trying to piece together a theory as to why his parents wanted to have a meeting. If Frances didn't have a solid answer for what was happening, then there was no way he could think up any ideas.

"Nope, not at all. But hey, I guess we're about to find out."