"I can't believe I'm doing this," I say, causing Scott to laugh and Amy to grin.

We're riding horses. We're riding fucking horses!

"How's Beau treating you?" Amy asks on her towering black stead named Black Rose Thornbush Twinkling Light (Thorn for short).

I lean over, petting Beau's neck a few times. "Good, I think."

"You're doing great for your first ride," Scott encourages me from his favorite horse. It's a sable brown with white patches, and to my utter shock bright blue eyes.

I can't help myself; I grin. "Yeah?"

"It's why I gave you Beau," Scott says with a nod of his head, eyes squinting against the sun. "Sweetest horse I've ever met. Never once bit me, never once threw me, never once kicked me, or pretended like he was going to kick me. Every time I introduce him to people he's just so sweet and docile."

I grin down at the beast, stroking it's neck again. "You hear that? You're a good boy."

Beau lets out a happy snuff, and it makes me smile. Then I turn to my sister. "How do you know how to ride?"

"Girl Scouts, back in the day," Amy says.

"Must've been nice," I mutter under my breath before I can stop myself.

"Besides camping and riding horses and stuff, it was actually pretty abysmal."

I swing my head to her. "Yeah?"

"I didn't get along with any of the girls in my troop. Once I hit Brownie I quit."

Scott laughs. Amy looks at him, confused.

"I'm sorry," Scott says to her. "I don't mean to laugh at you. I just find it funny, knowing that Bauwens here was a bit of a misfit himself, and then you said you didn't get on with your Girl Scout troop. You guys really seem to have a lot in common."

I look at Amy with a grin. "Yeah, we do. It's great."

We continue our idle chit chat during the rest of our ride through the estate grounds. Amy was still largely shy around Scott, but given time, and the fact that Scott really was a pretty down to earth person, she was slowly starting to come out of her shell. By the time we made it back to the stalls, twilight was creeping in.

I couldn't help but yawn after I dismounted (rather ungracefully and with the help of Scott and Amy).

"Oh, you two must be knackered," Scott said. "I'm sorry, time zone difference."

"I am a bit sleepy," Amy confessed, trying to stifle her own yawn.

"I'll have someone bring you to your rooms."

"Hey Scott," I say, gently touching his elbow for a moment. "Actually, could we talk? Just me and you?"

He raises his eyebrows, looking surprised. He then turns to Amy. "Are you alright with that, darling?"

She explodes into a blush. "Yeah."

"Alright. Let me contact someone to show you to your room, and then Orion and I will be on our way."

Still blushing as Scott pulled out his cell, Amy muttered a thank you. It took just a few minutes for someone to arrive. They informed us that our luggage was already in our rooms. Amy bid us both goodnight, and with a wave she was gone.

Scott slipped his hands into his pants pockets and turned to me. I had started not crushing on him, but the small amount of time away from him made me forget just how flipping hot he was. It took everything within me not to blush as Scott raised both eyebrows to me.

"You alright, Bauwens?"

"Yeah, I just--I wanna bounce an idea off you."

Scott shudders happily and grins. "Really? That's exciting. What sort of idea?" He stops then, grabbing my arm and looking at me seriously. "Please tell me it has something to do with world domination."

I dissolve into laughter and he grins again. I roll my eyes. "No, you doofus."

"Alright, alright," Scott says. "I feel like this is a serious thing, yes?"

"Er, relatively."

"Let's grab drinks then."

I'm genuinely surprised. "D-drinks?"

Scott laughs at me now, gently hitting me on the back of the head. I wince and rub my head. "Not alcohol. Come on, mate. I'm not that bad, and I wouldn't do that to you."

"O-oh."

Scott continues to laugh as we wind our way through the mansion. Eventually we made it to a kitchen. It dwarfs mine, which is really saying something, because mine is flipping huge. I can't help but gawk, looking around. I slow down, looking at the molding, looking at the tile and cabinets. It's a whole other level of wealth that was utterly lost on me.

"How did you get used to this?" I blurt out without thinking.

Scott turns to me. Confused, he cocks an eyebrow, holding various cans in his massive hands. "I have soda and various flavors of sparkling water."

"Oh. Er, peach water's fine."

Scott nods, grabbing some lime flavored sparkling water for himself. As he shuts the fridge and hands me my own, he looks confused. "Get used to what?"

"This!" I say, gesturing wildly at everything. "This kitchen, this house--this fucking mansion--"

As he leads me along, he's laughing. "You think I'm used to this? I still get lost sometimes, and I've lived here for six bloody years."

I can't help but screw up my face. "Why?"

Scott is leading me up a grand staircase. The steps are white marble, the banisters golden. Beneath our feet is a plush red carpet that runs throughout most of the house. Some of the side wings have different flooring, completely carpeted with red. However, the main parts of the house are white marble with this red path.

Scott looks at me over his shoulder. "Why what?"

"Why do you live here?"

I'm a little nervous when he turns around and walks up the stairs backwards. "Because I fucking deserve it?"

I pull my bottom lip into my mouth. I just suck on it though. "Could I be frank?"

Scott turns back around once we hit the landing, and leads me to the left. "You never have to ask me that, Bauwens."

"I don't want to offend you," I counter softly.

"Trust me--you'll know if you offend me."

I suck in a deep breath. "Alright then. I don't think anyone deserves this."

We're walking damn near shoulder to shoulder now, and he looks at me. I'm not used to people being taller than me. I'm not super tall, average at best, at six foot even. But Ben is only five-seven and Jake is five-nine. Scott, if I had to guess, is six-two.

Scott pauses before answering me. "What do you mean?"

"This level of wealth. For fucks sake, dude, you could house six full families here."

The actor makes a sort of clucking sound. The hall we're in looks familiar, but then again everything looks the same here. "So?"

"It's just you," I say bluntly.

"And my staff."

I can't stop myself before I roll my eyes. "Oh gee, so many people."

"There's twenty of them."

I definitely recognize where we're going, or at least I think I do. I shoot Scott a patronizing look. "How many rooms are in this place?"

Scott purses his lips.

"How many?"

"Are you talking bedrooms specifically, or..."

I chuckle and shake my head. "Match and point, mate," I mutter sardonically with a shake of my head.

"Oh don't get all patronizing on me," Scott balks, throwing open the doors to the room we're going in.

I did know where we're going. I follow my friend across the ballroom. It's really fucking pretty, even with only the dim moonlight illuminating it.

Scott looks over his shoulder at me. "Why do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Sing." As he speaks, he unlatches one of the huge glass doors and opens it.

Once more I'm nearly breathless. We're on a large stone balcony. Scott walks over to the ledge that's waist high, hops up onto it, settles his back against the building. Once comfortable and situated, he pulls out his cigarettes. I'm game, so I hop up myself, legs dangling off.

I pack my cigarettes against my leg. As I do, I can't help but shake my head. "I hate that fucking question."

"No no," Scott says, pointing at me. "You don't come to my house and criticize how I live."

Shit. Is that what I did? It was, wasn't it? "Dude, Scott, I am so sorry, I didn't mean—"

Scott chuckles, and I hate that I can't tell if he's angry or not. "Don't apologize, just answer the damn question."

I look out at the expansive countryside. Even in the early evening darkness I can tell how picture perfect it is. After a moment I look down at my lap.

"Music has always been there for me. If I could physically go inside music, stay there forever, I would. It's safe there, soft there. Music says the words I'm feeling. Sometimes it fills the void when I don't know what I'm feeling.

"Music is what my soul is made up of. It was my first lover and its going to be my last. Music is my truest and only best friend. It has soothed me no matter what I was going through. It was there for me—unquestionably, judgement free—when I couldn't rely on people to be there for me."

I look at Scott now. "So no, I don't do it for the fame or the money. In fact, I love it when I go somewhere and nobody knows my name. But I'm fucking good at what I do, and in this world we idolized singers and throw money at them, so here I am."

"I appreciate your honesty," Scott tells me. "Like you said, our world idolizes people like us. I didn't make the rules, I just live by them. And why shouldn't I?"

I smile, and what I say next I'm only half-joking. "Sometimes I wanna punch you in the face, you know that?"

"So what did you want to talk about?" Scott seamlessly changes the subject, and now I can tell he is actually getting upset but doesn't want to be rude.

"So, I got all this fan mail," I start with some hesitation, because this idea literally just came to me today as we wandered around Scott's property.

When I don't continue right away, Scott arches an eyebrow. "What, do you want an award or something?"

I laugh and glare. "Fuck off. No. I just..." I look at him. "I wanna give something back, you know?"

"No, I don't know." He chuckles. "Out with it, Bauwens."

"I'm thinking of doing an interview."

"Okay. Nothing earth-shattering there, either."

I laugh. "Dude, fuck off."

"Look," he says, giving me a grin, "I'm trying to get you to relax a bit. You seem nervous."

"Y-yeah," I admit, flashing my own quick smile. "This is usually around the point where I would start drinking."

Scott's expression shifts, and it's kind. "Just say it, Orion. What's on your mind?"

"I think I want to talk about my problems."

"Oh."

"Publicly."

His eyes widen. "Oh."

"I d'no," I say, my breath coming out in a rush. "I mean, the media already has it half right. I do have a temper problem, and everyone knows I'm a drunk."

"Was."

"Y-yeah, right. So I just...I wanna tell my side, yaknow?"

"Why?" he asks me genuinely, lighting another cigarette. "Do you feel like you have to defend yourself?"

I laugh right out at him. "Aw, that's so cute, you think I actually give a fuck what anyone thinks about me!"

Scott looks unamused. "Alright, fine. Is it a publicity stunt?"

I'm genuinely horrified. "What? No!"

"Alright, so then tell me this," the actor says, leaning forward and looking at me with intense eyes. "What do you gain from it?"

I pause and think. "Nothing."

"And what if it backfires? What if you do this tell-all, and then people come forward with their side of the story, and—"

And just like that, my anger fuse shorts. "What the fuck have I got to lose?" I snap at him. "People know I'm a wreck but they don't know why. I know there are plenty of people out there who have gone through the ringer like me, or who have it really tough still. And, my fucking God, do I wish I had someone I could relate to when I was in the thick of it."

"That's all fine, but what if it backfires?" he presses again, completely unrattled by my sudden shift in demeanor.

"I'll embrace it if it backfires," I snarl at him, and I really don't know why this is bothering me so much. "Not like it fucking matters at this point! Saturn Mutants is disbanded, and if everyone hates my guts after this then I'll just live out my days as a crazy recluse in my house, pissing away all my money! Fuck, I'd love to go places and not be hounded by the media!" I lean toward  Scott, jamming my finger against the railing, shooting him a death glare. "I don't care."

There's a long pause. The weight of my words feel like an avalanche, and the quiet of night makes me feel like my voice was deafening. The longer I sit there, glaring at him, I wish he'd do something.

Finally he crosses his arms and cocks an eyebrow again. He nods once. "But you do care."

I lean back.

"You don't care about the consequences, but you want to do this. You're obviously passionate about it."

I blink. Was I? It was just something I had come up with within the past few hours. Then again, I did just yell at my friend. Scott laughs loudly then, and I'm happy when the tension between us starts thawing.

"Dear Lord," Scott admonishes, still laughing. "You really don't know what is going on inside your own head half the time, do you?"

I can feel myself explode into a blush. I light another cigarette and droll at him. "I try not to listen to what goes on up there. If you were me you wouldn't, either."

He grins at me and I grin back. Scott nods again, still smiling. "Yes Bauwens, I will help you with this passion project that has caused your brain to disconnect from your mouth and emotions."

I shoot him a look. "Pffft. That's everyday. Where have you been?"

Scott laughs.