• The club is consisted of lights and drunk people.At the back entrance, Mark and the others start unpacking all the stuff.

    Speakers: Check. Guitars: Check. Extra Drumsticks: Check. Mic: Check. Glow in the dark paint?: Uh... check(but i have no idea what they're going to use it for) And special Guitar picks: Check.

    The guys set up onstage, while I wait backstage with a couple other bands. They stare at me in amusement.

    "Hey look, a groupie!" One of the guys laughs. He walks over, cocky arrogance coming off of him in waves. He's tan, and has black and blonde striped hair and dark blue eyes.

    "Let me guess, you want an autograph, right?" He pats the top of my head, like I'm some little kid.

    I don't look up. "Leave me alone."

    He feigns shock. "Oh no! That was mean. You have to be punished." He grabs my arm, and I lose it. I jump up, and use his momentum to knock him to the ground. He lands stomach down and I press my knee into his back. I lean down to his ear. "Now if you're smart, you'll leave me alone. Who knows what will happen if you get me any angrier? Now go back over to your little friends."

    I lift my knee off his back and he leaps up, angry now. His fist comes up. But before it can move back down, he gets a punch that sends him flying back into his friends. They manage to catch him; just barely.

    Liam stands over me, angry as heck. He grabs my arm, and I jerk away from him. "Let me go Liam! I could have taken care of this myself. You're gonna get the band disqualified."

    The guy he punched stands up and runs back over, aiming for me. I smile, ducking underneath his punch and slamming my foot into the back of his knee. He drops like a sack of bricks. Liam laughs and we walk over to our corner, just as Mark and the others walk in.

    "Whoa. What happened in here?" Mark looks at me, his eyes narrowed. I smile innocently.

    "He grabbed me."

    Mark pauses, eyeing the guy, then helps him up. "Sorry bro, but you had that coming. Don't mess with her, she's dangerous."

    I sit on the edge of the sofa, then notice that the guys have beers in their hands. I swallow nervously. Bryan takes notice of this, as he always does.

    "Relax, Kort. We'll drink half now, and half later. Chill."

    But now, I can't relax at all. They all sigh in unison and put their beers down.

    Mark runs his hands through his hair. "Kort, that was one time. When are you gonna let that go? It's like we're not even allowed to have a good time anymore. Not with you around."

    The guys nod in agreement. "You need to loosen up, Kort," Liam says. "You're killing us here. We're twenty three, and can't even drink one beer. Just stop, please."

    Their words sting like a slap, but I don't cry. Not in front of them. I refuse to show any weakness. I stand up, getting angry instead.

    "Fine. But you're the one who wanted me to come."

    Mark doesn't look at me. "Well I'm starting to regret that now."

    I'm truly speechless for a second. But then I speak again, almost a whisper.

    "Fine. Go ahead and party all you want. Get drunk, and takes some girls home; I don't care."

    "That's not what I meant Kort-"

    "I don't care. Do it; have all the fun you want." I grab my bag. "Just don't expect me to watch that happen to you again. And I know I wont be letting what happened to me take place again." I stalk out of the room.

    I've waved over a taxi, and am about to get in, when a hand grabs my arm. Mark.

    "Kort, you know I didn't mean it like that. Where are you going?"

    I take my arm back, making myself look calm and collected. I look him right in the eye.

    "Listen, you're not the one who almost got..." I stop, taking an unstable breath to force the memories out of my head, and get in the taxi."I'm going to Megan's. Have fun while you can."

    He looks confused. "What-"

    "When your done, you'll be coming home. When I get there tomorrow, the boring will start all over again, right? So have fun while you can."

    I get in the cab. Mark holds the door open, pulling a twenty out of his wallet. He gives it to me. "We'll call you if we win."

    "Don't bother," I say, and close the door. the taxi drives away from the curb.

    ...........................................................................................

    Megan's house looks bigger than I remember. I hesitate before ringing the doorbell.

    A short, pale woman opens the door, smiling softly. "Can I help you?"

    "Um hi, is Megan here? Tell her it's Kortney."

    The woman nods, beckoning me inside to wait. I take the time to look around.

    Megan's parents have definitely renovated lately. The color of the season seems to be cream, and everything is modeled around that color. It makes me sick, reminding me of my parents' house.

    A loud squeal interrupts my thoughts, and Megan comes bounding down the stairs to me, and I prepare myself for the tightest hug of my life, which she delivers.

    "I can't believe your here! Wait!" She pulls back. "Doesn't your brother's band have a gig tonight? A competition?"

    I shrug. "Yeah, but um... I don't think they... Well, Mark told me..." I smile, trying unsuccessfully to hide my hurt, even as tears come to my eyes. Megan puts a hand on my arm, comforting. I take a deep breath.

    "I just think they'll be better off without me tonight-" My voice breaks on this last part, and I lean on her shoulder, sobbing. She hugs me, and I faintly hear her giving orders to someone.

    I stop myself, determined to be strong, and she instantly pulls me into her cream colored dining room. Megan is the only one whose seen me cry in the last few years. Living with the guys, they get a little freaked out when I cry, so I manage to keep them in. But I just can't do that anymore by the time I get to Megan's. I've known her since I moved to New York with Mark three years ago.

    When I transferred to the high school here, she was really the only one who tried to be nice to me. Because of her, most of the kids now leave me alone.

    At five foot six, she's not that tall, and has auburn hair and multicolored eyes, and a select few freckles under her eyes. But when it comes to personality and attitude, well... she's got enough of that to make up for everything else. Id hate to ever get on her bad side.

    She leads me deeper into the kitchen, and on the huge marble counter top, there's the biggest dessert buffet I've ever seen in my life.

    Cakes, brownies, cookies, ice cream, pudding, cupcakes, turnovers, cheesecake... even straight jars of frosting. Megan pulls me over to it.

    "How in the world did they get his here so fast? I just got here three minutes ago."

    She smiles, already digging in. "I always have this set up for me on Saturdays. That's when my parents aren't home. You came right when the cook finished. Lucky you; now you can forget about your cruel band mates."

    So we eat, talking about random things, until we're stuffed, and sleepy. Then we go up to her room, where she instantly falls asleep, not even bothering to change. I lay awake for awhile though, staring at the wide map of constellations covering her whole ceiling.

    Megan's rich; or, her parents are anyways. She gets everything she wants' except for them. They're always working. I feel sorry for her. The truth is, this is exactly how my life would be, if I still lived with mom and dad. Megan is like my sister now, and I try my best to make up for a little bit of her parents neglect. I know she really misses them though.

    I moved out with Mark, when he got tired of our parents. They didn't stop me. Now I'm lower than rich(way lower), but loving every minute of life; doing things I wouldn't be able to do if I still lived with our parents. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I flip it open, so as to not disturb Megan. It's a text from Mark.

    Are you okay?

    I text him back.

    I'm fine.

    He answers almost immediately.

    I'm sorry.

    I answer, Goodnight, then turn my phone off, and go to sleep.

    ...............................................................

    Megan is jumping up and down on the bed, trying to wake me up. I grab her ankle and yank, sending her sprawling onto her back in a fit of giggles. She has my phone, and hands it to me. "It's Mark."

    I snatch the phone away and put it to my ear, still half asleep. "What do you want," I snap, just wanting to go back to sleep.

    "Kort," Mark whines. "Please come home. The guys have serious hangovers and I don't know what to do with them."

    "You'll figure it out," I answer coldly. I'm about to hang up, but he yells for me to wait. I hear Liam tell him to shut up in the background.

    "Kort please. I'm begging you here."

    "I'm not moving from this bed, Mark. You guys are way older than me; you should know how to take care of yourselves by now." I hang up.

    I'm fully awake now, and I sit up. Megan is sitting Indian style at the end of the bed, a tray of delicious smelling food in front of her, watching me. I snag a piece of her bagel.

    "So what did he want?" She asks, even though i'm sure she already knows the answer.

    The bagel is warm, and I cram it down, feeling bad now. "The guys have hangovers from last night and they want me to come home and play nurse." I sigh. "Can I borrow some clothes please?"

    Megan nods, smearing jelly on a piece of toast. I pick out the simplest things I can find(even though it still adds up to over two thousand dollars of clothing) and change quickly, then grab my bag and one more piece of toast.

    "Sorry Megan. Maybe I can come back next weekend?"

    She smiles, excited. "Yeah! Maybe we could make an event of it. The whole weekend together, just like when we were kids."

    "Sure, see you later."