Rachel and Savannah walked to the house, McDonald's bags in hand. Savannah tried to contain her (probably annoying) excitement about meeting Doc, but it just came bursting out of her mouth: "I'm so excited to meet Doc."

Rachel rolled his eyes with a smile. "Calm your tits. He's not anything special."

She looked at him incredulously. "How dare you say that? He managed Mötley Crüe!"

"I like how that's your major selling point and not the fact he manages us," he giggled. "Don't get me wrong, he's a decent guy. But, he can get on our nerves sometimes."

"That's just your piss-poor attitude regarding authority." She reached the door and kicked it twice; her form of knocking, since her hands were a little occupied.

"Maybe." His shoulders rose in a shrug. "I guess we'll find out."

Giddy, she smiled at him. "We will. And he's gonna be awesome!"

Rachel opened his mouth to make fun of her overexcited behavior when Sebastian cracked open the door. He held onto it, poking his head outside and nothing else. He smiled wickedly. "What's the password?"

"Let us in, asshole," Rachel said, rolling his eyes yet again.

"Not even close!" Sebastian scoffed. He looked at Savannah. "Sav? You got a guess?"

"Um. . ," she began, unsure. This was Sebastian, so his password could be anything ranging from a song quote to a train of curse words. So, she just went with the former. From what Rachel had told her, he took great pride in his music. "We are the youth gone wild. . ?"

Sebastian beamed. "No, but that's a great guess."

"If it was a great guess, then you should let us in!" Rachel whined.

"Nope. Not until you guess the password."

"Listen, Baz, I have your food in my hands right now. If you're smart, you'll let us in," said Savannah, looking at him with an evil smile.

He squinted at her. "Or what?"

"Or you won't get your food. I'll throw it. Maybe I'll just eat it in front of you. I'll get creative."

His scowl broke into a smile. "You're good." He opened the door and stepped aside. "You have been granted access into the Skids' humble abode."

"And we couldn't be more thankful," she smiled, stepping inside. In there, she saw the legendary, somewhat balding man Doc McGhee, sitting on the couch (plus the Skids, but her attention had been stolen).

   Rachel saw the starstruck look in her eyes and couldn't help but smile. She fucking idolized that man. He supposed it was warranted, since he had made the albums put out by her favorite bands possible. But, she was in a for a rude awakening: Doc wasn't legendary. After all, that was the same man that got caught smuggling thousands of pounds of drugs, and held a whole anti-drug festival to cover his ass. But, he was a talented man, and that was worth something in its own right.

   Savannah set the food down on the table, Rachel following suit. She excitedly stuck a hand out for Doc to shake. "Hey, Doc! I'm a huge fan of your work. It's so nice to finally meet you!"

   Doc looked very confused as he shook her hand. He glanced at the Skids, who were giggling at her enthusiasm.

   She realized that he had no idea who she was, and immediately felt embarrassed. She hadn't introduced herself! "Oh, my bad, man. I'm Savannah. Or Sav. I'm the new fashion director."

Realization flashed across his features. "Oh, hey, Sav. Nice to meet you, too."

She withdrew her hand and looked apologetically at Doc. "Sorry, man, but we didn't get you anything. We didn't know you'd be here."

He waved her off. "That's all right. I already ate, anyway."

She nodded and grabbed the first McDonald's bag she saw. She rummaged through it and placed all the meals inside onto the table, doing the same with the next few bags. Eventually, everyone found their meal and was either on the couch or on the floor. This time, Savannah took the floor, since Doc was there and there wasn't enough room for her, as did Sebastian. Partly because of Savannah's reason, but mostly because he just liked the floor.

Everyone started to eat. Savannah shoved her nuggets into her mouth, not realizing just how hungry she had been until that moment.

"Slow down, Sav! Damn!" Snake said in jest, smiling as he popped a fry into his mouth.

"Fuck off. I'm starving." She was worried for half a second that Doc would find her unprofessional due to her swearing, but she soon relaxed when it hit her that he managed Skid Row. As much as she had started to like the guys, they were anything but professional.

Snake raised his hands in surrender.

"So, Sav, tell us about you," Scotti told her. "Like, your childhood and whatnot. What you're into. We—or at least I—wanna get to know you a little better."

   She shrugged. "There's not much to tell, honestly. I grew up here with my parents, and I had a lot of fun during my childhood. Just hanging out and being a kid. I've known Rachel since high school, and he convinced me to pursue music. I had been told that I was a good singer, so I dicked around with a few school bands before joining Deadly Complacency. And then, you know what happened with that." She frowned a little at her own mention of her ex-band, but then perked up. "As for what I'm into, I love music, reading, drawing, and writing. My favorite band is Mötley Crüe, and my favorite genre of books is realistic fiction."

Sebastian felt a small prick of envy at her unproblematic childhood. Of course, he loved the life he had lived: being rebellious from the very start; drugs, alcohol, and premarital sex was the norm for him from a very young age. He loved it because it led him to the life he was living now. But, at the same time, he was aware that it probably didn't do his maturity, health, and mental state any favors. He dismissed his envy when his love for his current life hit him; he wouldn't change anything about himself. "Killer, man."

"You know," Scotti said, smiling as he ate his food, "we know Mötley Crüe. Like, personally."

"Yeah, I know! Rachel told me you guys toured with them," Savannah replied. "And that's so awesome."

"Yeah, we did. But, what I'm saying is. . . " He looked around at his bandmates for approval to what he was going to say, and they all nodded. So, he continued, ". . .maybe we could hook you up. Maybe we could have you meet them."

On instinct, Savannah looked at Doc for approval. Could the Skids do that? Just arrange a meeting with a fashion director and a famous band?

The manager of Skid Row looked indifferent.

And that was all the approval she needed.

"Wow!" she cried, hopping up and hugging Scotti. "Thank you, man! That'd be so cool!"

He hugged back, laughing. "Don't mention it."

She pulled apart and sat back down, giddier than ever.

"Hey, we gave our consent!" Sebastian whined. "Where's our hugs?"

"When did you give your consent?"

"Scotti looked at us and we all nodded," Rachel said with a chuckle.

"That's not concrete consent! You guys could have just been having simultaneous head spasms."

"How would that happen?" Rob asked incredulously.

"It's called 'Sav logic,'" Snake muttered to Rob with a laugh.

"Hey, I heard that, fuckface," Savannah snapped.

"Sounds like you don't wanna hug me," Sebastian said, crossing his arms. He smiled slyly. "You just can't handle my hotness, can you? If our bodies made contact, you'd just melt onto the fucking floor."

"Yeah, that's it," she said sarcastically.

   "Then prove me wrong." He opened his arms for her.

   With a groan, she begrudgingly wrapped her arms around Sebastian. He hugged her back, laughing at her disappointed noise. The feeling of his arms around her waist made her breath catch slightly, but he didn't seem to notice.

   She pulled apart first, grabbing his hands and prying them from her when he jokingly refused to let go. "See? No melting," she said.

   "Not even internal melting?" he asked hopefully, pouting.

   "Nope."

   "Hey, give us our hugs now!" Snake exclaimed, opening his arms.

   Savannah then went down the line of Skids, hugging them all. She loved how huggable they all were, and how Snake in particular gave her a squeeze of camaraderie. The welcoming vibe she felt made her grin as she sat back down, taking a sip of her chocolate shake. She looked up and noticed that at some point during Sebastian's teasing, Doc had gotten up and left.

Rachel could practically read her mind. "Sorry about Doc," he chuckled, his eyes soft with genuine pity. "He's not really the 'hang out when your work is done' type."

A little let down, but still excited for the possibility of meeting Mötley fucking Crüe, Savannah shrugged. "That's all right. I would be like that too if I had to manage your goofy asses."

Scotti narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't make us revoke that Mötley Crüe offer."

"And we will, too!" Rob added. "We'll tell them awful shit about you!"

She placed a hand on her chest in mock offense. "How dare you?! If you do that, then I'll quit!"

She felt a small pit in her stomach form. Was it too early to start joking about resigning?

The laughs that ensued proved that it wasn't. "Okay, okay, how about we call a truce then, Sav?" Rachel asked. "Don't quit, and we won't gossip about you to the Crüe."

   She pretended to mull it over. She sighed dramatically. "Fine." She held out her hand to Rachel. "We have to shake on it."

   He grabbed her hand and shook it, grinning. "Pleasure doing business with you."

   "You as well."

   The hours that followed passed by in a blur of talking and having fun. Savannah really started to get to know the Skids, and she liked what she saw in every single one of them. They were just so goofy, and that was definitely her style.

   And, all too soon, she had to leave. It was nearing 8:00, and she figured she shouldn't be in their hair much longer.

   So, she rose from the floor, her legs numb from the awkward way she had been sitting. "All right, guys. I think I'm gonna dip."

   "Aww! So soon?" Sebastian pouted.

   "Sebastian, you fool, it's 8:00 in the fucking P.M," Snake laughed. "She's been here a while."

   "Hey, what is that supposed to mean, Snake?" Savannah asked with a cocked eyebrow. "You want me to leave or something?"

   "No, no!" he said, waving his hands around wildly. "That's not what I meant!"

   "Snake!" Rob scolded, slapping him playfully.

   "I swear!" Snake defended himself, laughing. "Just an observation. I meant nothing by it!"

   "Uh-huh." Savannah began to walk towards the door. "Well, don't let whatever grievance you have with me affect me during my next shift," she joked, smiling.

   Snake rolled his eyes. "I won't, Sav. See you. . .whenever."

   "Oh, I forgot to tell you guys. She's coming tomorrow, too. For the photoshoot. Just to see us all together in our outfits and make any last minute tweaks she wants to make," Rachel told his band.

   "Oh, killer!" said Scotti.

   "Yep. Can't wait." Savannah grinned, grabbing the knob of the door. "I'll see you guys then."

   Everyone said their goodbyes, and she twisted the doorknob and pulled it open.

   But, someone stopped her.

   "Wait!" the unmistakeable voice of Sebastian called out to her.

   She turned around, the chilly air of the outside wafting into the house. "What's up?"

   He looked around, almost frantically. "Does anyone have a pen?"

   "Yes, like I keep a pen on me," Snake scoffed, rolling his eyes.

   "Shut the fuck up! Pen? Anyone?" Sebastian asked, looking at his band.

   Rob sighed dramatically. "No, but there's one in my room. I'll get it."

   And with that, Rob ran up the stairs and to his room.

   "Why do you need a pen, anyway?" Rachel inquired.

   "Well. . ," Sebastian began, "I figured since Sav is my colleague now, I should. . .have her number." He looked a little flushed saying that, and he hoped nobody noticed.

   Savannah was having a mental party right then. She was determined not to let it show, but her mind was a whole cluster of immature, schoolgirl-like screams. "Yeah, that makes sense."

   "Oh. That's probably a good call," said Scotti. "But, why didn't you just have her put her number in your phone?"

   "I still have no idea where that fucker is," he said with a smile. "I lost it last night. I'll have to really look for it after."

   "Then why didn't you have her put yours in her phone?"

   Sebastian's expression went blank for a moment. Then, he looked embarrassed. "Fuck you, okay?! The pen was my first instinct! Besides, I'm allowing Rob to get a nice workout."

   On cue, Rob came barreling down the stairs, pen in hand. A little out of breath, he handed it to Sebastian. "Here. What did you need it for?"

   "He's giving his number to Savvy," Rachel said in a teasing, juvenile tone.

   "Shut up." Sebastian removed the pen's cap with his teeth and grabbed Savannah's arm, extending it so that the back of her hand was facing him.

   He began to scrawl out a number on her hand, and the close proximity of the two of them had her mind spinning slightly. He's so cute, she thought.

   He smiled through the cap when he was done with the number. "And I did that upside down! That shit was not easy." He then began adding little embellishments to her hand: cartoon-like lightning bolts, stars, fire. Her hand began to look a lot like the bored doodles of a school student.

   "Okay, Sebastian," she laughed, attempting to pull her hand back.

   "Wait, let me finish this star!"

   She sighed and let him finish.

   "All right, all done!" he declared, letting her go. She felt a little disappointment at the absence of contact, but didn't let it show. "Your hand looks like a masterpiece now."

   "And. . .why didn't you just put your number in her phone?" asked Rob, quirking a brow.

   "Shut up!" Sebastian said, throwing the pen back at Rob. "The pen was my first instinct. Go to Hell, Rob!"

   "Since I'm a normal person, I'll just put mine in her phone," Snake chuckled, going up to her and holding his hand out for her phone.

   She opened the contacts app and gave it to him, and he put his contact in. He then passed it to Rob, who did the same. Then to Scotti, who followed the lead of his band.

   When Sebastian got offered the phone, he shook his head. "No! I can't!"

   "Why not?" asked Savannah, laughing.

   "The principle of the matter, duh!" He answered it so matter-of-factly that everyone laughed. "If I put my number in your phone, then I just wrote it on your damn hand for nothing!"

   "Suit yourself," Scotti responded, handing the phone back to Savannah. "Here you go."

   She took it. "Thanks." She pocketed it, grabbing the doorknob once again. "All right, I'm outie. For real this time. See you guys tomorrow."

   The band responded with their own goodbyes, and she slipped out of the house, shutting the door behind her.

   As she walked to her car, she reflected on the day she just had. Why had she been so hesitant about being the Skids' fashion director? This job was fucking amazing. She couldn't have ever imagined working with people this fun and this nice.

   As she got in the car, she looked at her hand and took in Sebastian's number and various doodles. The very sight made her heart pound a bit before settling back down.

   She smiled a little and turned her keys into the ignition.

   She'd have to call him.