I've been meaning to do this for a while, but hadn't found the time. But I managed to crank this out when I was supposed to be cleaning my room. :)

Anywho, this takes place after the war with the Decepticons, how it happened I have no idea, and it's about nine or eight years later. Miko is 24, Raf is 22, and Jack is 25.

I don't own Transformers. (P.S. This story was inspired by the song, 'Rock Show' by Hailstorm.)

Miko's P.O.V.

I ran my hand down the neck of my guitar, playing a few warm up chords. The boys were arguing with the tech guys, something about the lighting. If only Raf were back here to fix it, I thought to myself. I chuckled at the thought of the 40 year-old techs getting taught a lesson in technology from a kid who had just graduated college.

I sobered when I remembered that both Raf and Jack were out-of-town, and wouldn't be able to make it. Jack was on a trip to New York with his girlfriend, the one and only Sierra, and they wouldn't be back until next week. It was going to be fun seeing them afterward though, especially after I saw Jack walking out of a jewelry shop with a velvet box in his hand.

Raf was now working at a video game company in California, a waste of his talents I called it, but he had assured me that it was only temporary. Though the company would be upset, the profits from the racing game with transforming robots were off the charts.

I stopped strumming when I thought of the 'bots. Although the 'cons had been defeated, the government insisted on keeping Cybertronians a secret. But the 'bots were kept busy with missions assigned to them. Smoking out a terrorist group here and there, helping clean up natural disasters on the weekends, saving the occasional kitten from a tree… Bulkhead had assured me that in only happened once, but it was fun teasing him about it.

"Yo Miko! There's a pretty big crowd out there!" my eyes left my guitar as Michael, our drummer, walked up to me. "You ready?"

I snorted, "Of course. But that's more than I can say for you and Bassy over there." I jerked my head at Steve, who was still shouting at the techs with Ben.

"Hey, just because he plays bass, has a fish tattoo, and is grouchy most of the time doesn't mean you can call him that."

"Geez, you're starting to sound like him too."

"He's given that speech so many times." I grinned and shook my dreary thoughts away. Lead guitarists have to be pumped up!

"We're starting in ten minutes guys!" Ben called as he left the heated argument and joined our conversation. It didn't do him good to strain his voice before singing anyway. "How big is the crowd?"

Michael replied, "Bigger than a Slash Monkey concert."

I rolled my eyes, "Sure Mikey, and only at our first performance! Not to mention it's a rock concert in the middle of a parking lot. Pfft, please."

"I sense sarcasm."

Ben grinned, "You don't say."

The heavy footfalls of Steve interrupted our conversation, and we turned to him as he growled, "Those guys are idiots."

I coughed, "Still sound like Starscream." The boys paid me no heed; they were used to me saying random stuff like that. They had even considered making a journal of all my crazy statements, titled, "Megsy and Miko, the Untold Story." Their attention off me, I played a low, long chord. Bulkhead would have laughed at that.

"Five minutes!" our manager shouted from off stage. "Get ready!"

"I'm going to kill that guy," Steve muttered as he slung his guitar around from his back. Seriously, did he know Starscream?

"You heard the idiot, let's go!" Michael said, and walked over to his drum set. The letters, I and S were stamped on the bass drum.

I smiled and stood up, guitar cord in hand. Leaning down, I plugged it into the amp system. Just as I was about to straighten, I saw a flash of bright yellow pass through the slit in the curtain. I narrowed my eyes and looked harder, but nothing was there. Weird.

"Earth to Miko! Earth to Miko! Hello?" I jumped as Steve called over to me. "The curtain's opening in thirty seconds."

I nodded and stood up, "I know that Bassy!" He only grumbled in response.

I took a deep breath. This was the moment I had waited for my entire life, ever since I first seen a guitar. My first rock show where I wasn't the one staring from the front row with the sound vibrating the very ground beneath my feet. Where I wasn't filming the guitarist with my cell phone. Where I was the one onstage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, rockers and their parents who had to drive them here, are you ready?" the announcer boomed. A loud cheering greeted him, even though the crowd had never heard us before. I swallowed, and murmured to myself, "Please don't disappoint them." Ben caught my nervous look, and gave me a thumbs up.

"Then let's get this party started!" More cheering. "Introducing, the one and only, rock hard new band, INDUSTRIAL SOUND!" The sound of our band name sent chills down my spine, and before I could say something to Ben about not being ready, the curtain opened.

The spotlights shown in my face, and I was sure the gel used to spike my pink highlighted hair was slowly running down my neck from the heat. Or that might have been the cold sweat I had just broken into at the sight of all those heavy metal fans.

Cell phones, lighters, and hands were up in the air as the crowd waited for us to start. Teenagers were squeezed together in the large parking lot, eager for the music to rattle their eardrums. I took another breath, letting the cool, night air fill my lungs. I can do this.

Steve plucked at his strings, and thick, heavy chords filled the air with the bass. Michael started soon after, foot hitting the pedal and sticks tapping against the drums. Ben began singing the lyrics to the song the four of us had painstakingly leaned over for months, erasing words and looking in the thesaurus for the right rhymes.

I would be joining in exactly twenty seconds. I could feel my heart beating above Steve's chords, and my breath quickened. I can't do this, I can't do this. The crowd was silent, soaking in the new music. I can't do this. I can't do this!

Ten seconds.

I would let the boys down, I would let the crowd down, and I would let myself down. But what would it matter if my friends, no, family couldn't make it?

Five seconds.

My fingers were frozen. I can't do this!

Three seconds.

That's when my eyes traveled to the very back of the crowd, toward the entrance to the parking lot. A mixture of bright colors was out there, including the bright yellow of a Camaro that I had seen earlier. Eight vehicles were parked in the back, with two humans sitting on the roof of a certain green Wrecker to get a better view. My eyes darted to car to car in shock. Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Optimus, Arcee, Ratchet, Smokescreen, Wheeljack, Ultra Magnus! They all came! Jack and Raf too!

One second.

The sight of the 'bots filled me with energy, and I lifted my chin up high. I can do this.

Zero seconds.

My fingers moved, and the crowd burst into cheers as my fast notes swirled around stage, creating the combination of bass, voice, and drums into a song. Cell phones, lighters, and hands were waving to the beat Michael had created. The 'bots had turned on their headlights, and were flashing them on and off to the music my guitar created. Raf held his laptop in the air, screen saver set with a picture of a lighter. He was pointing to it eagerly. I smiled, laptops and samples.

My gaze shifted to Jack when he also held something in the air. I had to squint, but I was able to make out the shiny, metal form of a harmonica. I resisted the urge to burst out laughing.

Steve gave me a confused glance, but I simply winked back. Inside joke.

We rolled through the song, adrenaline pumping as we entered the chorus. I didn't even feel my fingers hit the strings I was so excited. I was a rock star!

But it was when we were approaching the end of the song that I realized it was time for my guitar solo. I gulped. My fingers started to feel like lead. Only I would be playing, no drums or bass to back me up. What if I made a mistake? Or just froze? The entire song would be ruined!

Ben had already stopped singing, and Michael was slowing the tempo down. I closed my eyes and tried to drown out the cheering crowd. I could hear the music, I knew the notes, I had practiced so much in my apartment, but could I play it? I opened my eyes, and saw Jack and Raf slide off Bulkhead. Oh no, they're going to leave! But I need them for this!

Right when I thought I wouldn't be able to make my fingers move for the solo, Bulkhead transformed and gave me a thumbs up. My eyes widened. The other 'bots followed his lead, and soon eight giant robots were standing there, encouraging me. It was a huge risk, even though the parking lot was surrounded by trees. Hundreds of cameras were filming, and the chance of just one of them being seen… But the crowd was focused on the stage, and the music was loud enough to cover the sounds of the 'bots transforming. I glanced at the boys, but they all had their eyes trained on the front row.

Despite the music, the lights, the huge crowd, I felt tears form at the edge of my eyes. The 'bots had come to the concert, had risked being seen in vehicle mode, and even transformed for me. I smiled; this was the best family someone could ever ask for.

Steve had completely stopped, and Michael hit the cymbals, my cue. I raised my hand high in the air and grinned at the crowd, asking them if I should do it. They cheered in response, and the 'bots flashed their headlights. Having the answer I needed, I nodded and slammed my fingers against the strings.

The sound sent vibrations up my arm, and chord echoed across the parking lot. Bulkhead raised his arms in the air in approval. He and the 'bots transformed back, but I kept on playing. My fingers moved without me having to tell them, and the familiar notes rocketed around in my head. The crowd was shouting, and cheering, and whooping, and stomping their feet. My hand skipped up and down my guitar's neck, and the other strummed the strings.

As I reached the last measure, an idea sprung in my head. Grinning, I took a few steps back, and then ran towards the crowd. Right when my fingers hit the last chord, I got to my knees and slid forward. I stopped right at the edge of the stage; just as the note faded away. I raised my hand in the air and made the rock-on sign.

There was silence for a few moments, and for a split second I thought I made a mistake, until the crowd erupted in cheers. I lowered my eyes to see the fans waving their arms in the air and screaming their heads off. I gave a toothy smile, and got to my feet. The boys joined me at the edge of the stage, and together we raised our fists in victory. The cheering grew even louder, and I knew my smile was permanently stuck to my face.

After our eardrums could take no more of the whoops and whistles, Ben stepped up and brought his hands down. The crowd grew silent, even though their energy was still buzzing in the air. Not being able to contain myself any longer, I unslung my guitar from my shoulders and sat it on the ground. Before the boys could react, I leaped over to them and caught them in a hug. The crowd cheered again.

Eventually, the announcer's voice blared over the speakers, and it was time for the next band. But much to the crowds joy, he told them Industrial Sound would be playing again later in the night.

Backstage, Ben held out a can of Diet Coke, "To Industrial Sound!"

"Industrial Sound!" we echoed, and clinked our Cokes together. Well, Steve had his regular Dark Energ – I mean grape soda.

Gulping my drink down, I then tossed it behind me. I cleared my throat, "Hey guys, really sorry, but I got to go do something."

They gave me confused looks, and Michael asked, "What do you mean? Are you leaving?"

I shook my head, pigtails bobbing, "No, no! Just got to see someone real quick. I'll be back before you can say heavy metal." Not leaving them any room to object, I ran over to the steps leading behind the stage. I opened the door that led outside, and poked my head out, no one in sight. Grinning, I whipped out my cell phone and texted Jack. The screen lit up green as the message sent.

I stepped through the door and shut it behind me. The rumble of engines soon greeted me, and I turned to the side to see eight vehicles driving around the corner of the stage. I felt my smile widen, and I ran forward.

The 'bots transformed, and before he could get a word out I had my arms around Bulkhead's foot. He looked down at me, "How's my favorite guitarist?"

I gave his foot one last squeeze, before stepping back and replying, "You guys are the best! The absolute best!"

"Well no need to make Smokescreen's ego even bigger Miko, he's been going on and on about that explosion he caused when on a mission," Jack said as he walked up.

"Hey! It was an awesome explosion."

Arcee rolled her optics, "So you say."

I shook my head in disbelief when I saw the blood-red shirt Jack was wearing. Catching my look, he asked, "What? You said to wear fake blood."

I punched his arm, "Dude, I said to cover yourself in it. And where's the jumping and screaming?"

"It's hard to play a harmonica while doing that Miko." I punched him again.

"It is good to see you again Miko." I looked up to see Optimus himself kneel, "It has been a long time."

I smiled, "Sure has Bossbot. But I do have a question." I held out my arms on either side of me, gesturing madly, "How the frag were you able to get all the way out here? Doesn't Fowler have you guys doing recon missions and stuff?"

Optimus smiled, "We were able to find a break in our schedule, and we all agreed to come here."

Raf came up and whispered to me, "He convinced Fowler to let them sneak out."

Jack nodded and added, "The 'bots were able to Groundbridge us here too. Sierra thinks I'm at a Broadway play."

I laughed, and turned to face all the 'bots, "Thanks everyone, really. Without you guys, well… I probably would have run offstage in fear."

"Eh, it was nothing," Wheeljack replied. Ultra Magnus scoffed at him.

"I do not think transforming in front of a large crowd of humans is nothing."

Raf held up his laptop, "Don't worry, I've been monitoring the conspiracy websites and the channels covering the concert, nothing's popping up."

"Good work Rafael," Ratchet said. I felt a smirk creep up on my face.

"Tsk, tsk Doc Bot, I thought you hated heavy metal," I crossed my arms and tapped my foot.

He looked down at me, and managed one of his rare smiles, "Normally, that's true, but this was the exception."

I gasped, "You do have feelings!" Bumblebee and Bulkhead burst out laughing, and Ratchet's usual scowl came back.

Before anyone could say more, the announcer's voice echoed across the parking lot, "And it's time for the next band to play!"

I glanced at an imaginary watch on my wrist, "Whoa, I got to go. We're on after this." I looked back at the 'bots, "You guys better get back in the crowd." They answered by transforming. Jack and Raf were about to climb into Bulkhead when I grabbed their wrists, "But since you two aren't a government secret, you get a backstage pass!"

Dragging them to the stage, I called over my shoulder to the 'bots, "See you secrets onstage!"

When we got backstage Ben called out to us, "These your boyfriends Miko?"

Putting my arms around Raf and Jack's shoulders, I shook my head and replied, "Nope! Raf here is underage-,"

"Am not!"

"-and Jack here is engaged."

Jack faced me with wide eyes, "How do you know?"

"Saw you walk out of Kay's with a purple box, what else could have happened?"

"She could have said no."

"But she didn't!"

The boys gathered around us, and Michael asked, "So, why do they get backstage passes?"

I smiled, "They're my former band mates, aren't you guys?"

Jack snorted, and Raf adjusted his glasses.

Steve rolled his eyes, "Yup, I'm sure they are."

Jack raised an eyebrow, "Wow, he sounds like Starscream."

"I know right?!"

Michael and Ben groaned, while Steve scowled, "There's another person who goes on about Star Prime, and Megabee, and whatnot?"

"It's like they're related," Raf muttered. I burst out laughing.

"So," Ben started, "if you're Miko's former band mates, what do you play?"

"Laptops and samples."

"Harmonica."

Michael smirked, "We don't do country here Jack."

I gasped as an idea sprang in my head, "Guys! Perfect name for a song!"

The boys brightened, and asked in unison, "What?"

"'Do I Look Like I Do Country?' Inspired by my good friend, Won'tcoverhimselfinfakeblood."

"I wore the shirt!"

I laughed. Best. Concert. Ever.

Hope you liked! I apologize if any of the characters seemed OOC, and if you guys hated Miko's bandmates. I'm not too good with OC's. Anyway, make sure to review and leave some comments! And tell me if I made any mistakes, I'm sure there are several.

In the words of Miko, "ROCK ON!" XD

(P.S. If you guys want, I will write how Miko and her bandmates met. Sure it would be interesting, knowing Miko.)