A/N: This chapter is dedicated to GlueEater for making the sick cover above just because they liked this book. If anyone else wants to make a cover or banner or any type of graphic for this feel free to pm it to me and I'll be sure to post it as a chapter header and show all the other readers. Thank you again!

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The couch rubbed viciously at my cheek as I tried to make myself as comfortable as possible on the cushions. Somehow I've been waking up on that ratty old couch more often than not, and today was no different. With my eyes shut tight, my eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as the sound of someone knocking on the door filled my ears.

I groaned and rolled over, my head pounding to the beat of the incessant banging. I really needed to learn my limit when it came to drinking. The hangover was the least of my problems as I finally sat up with a huff. Not many people knew where I lived so the fact that there was someone outside my door obviously trying to get my attention had me a little on edge.

My socked feet stumbled across the wood floorboards, my balance not what it should be because of the horrible throbbing in my head. Pausing for a second in front of the door, I took the time to think over the idea of actually opening it. With a heavy sigh, I stood up on my toes and peered through the peephole high in the center of the door. My heart picked up quickly as last night's events finally came flooding back to me.

The same tall bleach blonde boy, who I had joking accused of trying to murder me if I got into a car with him, now stood on the opposite side of the door. He had no reason to be here and yet here he was pounding away on my door at 8:30 in the morning on a Sunday. The knocking stopped the second I turned the deadbolt and unchained the door.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" I spoke pointedly in hopes he would hear the annoyance in my voice.

"Sorry!" He chocked out. "I just wanted to come by and see how you were feeling since you were a little too drunk last night."

"How did you even know my apartment number?" I wondered out loud while I realized I must have looked like absolute shit solely based on the fact that I felt like shit.

"Well..." He sighed dramatically and I hated myself for even asking. "I didn't know your last name and the buzz board downstairs had a few names on it with the first initial K so I didn't want to click them and bother someone else."

I rolled my eyes as I leaned up against the doorway, finding that standing was not my favorite thing to do at the moment. As Michael continued on with an attempt at explaining himself, I noticed the flat pink cardboard box tucked under his arm and a coffee cup balancing on top of it. I hummed in thought of how delicious a nice cup of coffee sounded right now.

"So I buzzed the superintendent and told him I had a delivery of a Miss Kennedy and he-"

"Are those things for me then?" I nodded toward the stuff in his hands.

"Uuh, yeah..." He glanced down for only a second. "I work at Gigit's Diner. I'm only a bus boy now, but I know my way around making coffee and donuts."

"Thanks." I smiled and took the breakfast essentials from his outstretched hands. It was then that I stepped aside and motion for him to come in. "If you're here to bother me some more you might as well come inside instead of standing out in the hall like a lost puppy."

Michael kept his mouth shut as he stepped through the door and into my one room apartment. I watched carefully for just a moment as his eyes trailed around the entirety of the room. Once satisfied with the fact that he really was just an awkward guy, I turned my back to him and padded over to the kitchen area where I set the box of donuts down on the counter.

A smile crept onto my face as I peered into the shallow box, my mouth starting to water at just the sight of the delicious glazed doe. Just as I picked out the best looking one and put it to my lips to have a taste, I froze. The sound of an acoustic guitar floated through the quiet morning air and I felt sick all of a sudden, placing the donut back down where I had found it.

"What do you think your doing?" I spun around to see Michael had already made himself comfortable on the couch and had Noah's guitar resting in his lap.

He could hear the uneasiness and slight anger in my tone and looked up at me with wide eyes. We both stared at each other in silence before Michael somehow found the courage to play a rough version of the tune I had preformed the night before. I stood rigid, not knowing how to feel about seeing someone that wasn't me or Noah playing that guitar.

"I don't know where the days have gone,
But I know I wanna go home-"

"N-no-" He stopped picking at the guitar as I spoke, my voice sounding shaky. I didn't know why I decided to correct him. I shouldn't have been getting his hopes up about anything. "It's 'I know where I belong'."

A light smile tugged at his lips as he started the verse over again, his eyelashes fluttering nervously as he sang quietly. "But I know where I belong..."

"I wanna go home." I couldn't help myself as I sung out the last line with him.

The room was quiet once again and Michael quickly set the guitar down, letting it rest against the arm of the couch. He stood, taking a few cautious steps toward me.

"That song as been going around and around in my head since I heard it." He put his hands up in an almost defensive manner, waiting for the moment I might yell at him. "And I really think that it sounded great, perfect even, when you sang it, but maybe adding in a harmony would just kick it up a notch."

"Michael..." My jaw clenched, but it was obvious that he was nervous and he kept going without stopping to listen to me.

"I know you haven't actually said there are more songs, but I just thought if there were that you- I- We could play them." He let out a long exasperated sigh as though he had been holding in those words since he got here.

I didn't know what to tell him. I couldn't just say that the songs weren't mine or that there weren't any at all, because I could see the determination in his eyes. But why he was so set on playing with me and learning Noah's songs, was beyond anything I could comprehend. So I did what made most sense.

"Thanks for the coffee and donuts, I really appreciate it with the hangover and all." I crossed my arms over my chest and glanced toward the front door, hoping he'd get the hint.

"Just wait one second," Michael's voice sounded strained and sad over the fact that I refused to give him the time of day, but he wouldn't understand. "I hang out at Mel's Music down on 4th almost every day and if there is just a sliver of a chance that you want to play some music together, you should come find me."

"I have stuff to do today," I spoke shortly, feeling anxious to get him out of my apartment all of a sudden.

"That's why I made it a point to say that I'm there almost every day." He smiled a little as he made his way to the door. "Just think about it. No pressure."

I rolled my eyes at his words. "You wouldn't have come here if you didn't want to pressure me."

"I guess that's true." He chuckled and shook his head. "You're right. So just think about it and hopefully I'll see you there."

With that he turned on his heels and left my apartment. It was then that I really felt how fast my heart was beating. I was sure that Michael had no intention of just waiting around for me to get my act together.

He had been right the night before when he had said that someone doesn't write songs like that if they didn't want people to hear them. And I'm sure if Noah had been given a chance to play along side someone else in hopes of making his songs better he would have. It was up to me to do it instead and in a weird way honor the hard work he had put into his music. Maybe Michael was just here to give me that little push I hadn't realized I was looking for.