Beatrice wasn't sure what time it was or even where she was. All of the colors blurred together as she stumbled down the deserted city street. In her drunken haze she reached for the wall of a ratty, old building to stop herself from falling. She clung to the wall as if her life depended on it. She leaned over and dry-heaved the poisonous contents from her stomach. She had never felt more awful in her life.

Beatrice collapsed against the wall and just lay there for the longest time. There was no one there to see her, judge her. She wiped her mouth against her torn sleeve and tears ran down her face. 'How did it come to this?' she thought to herself. She used to be happy, carefree; she had hopes, dreams, and ambitions. Now she didn't feel a thing.

The numbness had taken its hold on her. She no longer felt the frustration with her band mates, or the anger with the record company that was splitting them apart. She no longer felt her love for the music she wrote and sang, nor could she remember the happy memories she had shared with her friends.

Beatrice thought the drugs would help, but they didn't do a thing, they just made the numbness stronger, so she turned to alcohol and eventually partying. Which led to where she was now, slumped against a wall on an abandoned street corner.

The sound of approaching footsteps didn't reach her ears as she slowly fell in and out of consciousness. The footsteps stopped in front of her and a tall figure kneeled down beside her. The figure reached down and cradled her face in his hands and whispered, " What have you done to yourself?"

Beatrice looked up at him slowly. "Frank?" she said inaudibly.

"I'm going to take you home now, love," he said as he gathered her in his arms and carried her bridal style. She drunkenly wrapped her arms around his neck. She buried her head in the crook of his neck as he carried her down; He slowly lowered her legs down and grabbed the handle to the passenger side door of his car. He opened the door and guided her into the seat, buckling her seatbelt. Beatrice's head lolled to the side, and she rested her head on the cool window.

She let out labored breaths, which fogged up the glass. Frank opened the driver side door and got in. He turned the key in the ignition, turning the car on as well as the heat. "You must have been freezing out there, how did you not freeze to death?" he said, rubbing his hands together. She didn't answer him. He turned to her and stared at her for a long moment. "Are you going to talk to me? Or am I just not worthy enough for your recognition, princess?"

Beatrice didn't say a word. After realizing he wasn't going to get any word out of her, he turned back to his steering wheel with an exasperated sigh. He pulled out of the parking space and began to drive, but he didn't know where he was going just yet. He just drove down any street he felt like.

It was a silent car ride and definitely awkward. Beatrice tried to think of words to say, anything to say, but in her jumbled, confused mind, she had nothing. She had too many thoughts going through her head, 'What is he doing here? How did he find me? Where are we going?' However, the one question that final came out was, "Why?"

Frank looked away from the road a moment to look at her, " Why, what?"

"You know what," she replied in a raspy voice.

"You mean why did I come to get you?"

"Yeah!"

Frank looked back to the road guiltily, and parked the car at an intersection, " I felt… bad… about what I said to you… earlier. I realized how wrong it was for me to say that. I know it isn't your fault, but I was angry… I needed to blow off some steam… and you were just… there. I'm sorry, love."

Beatrice let his words sink in. She thought back to earlier that evening.

Beatrice sighed as she fell back onto the plush couch. She rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. All of the fighting was too much, and the arguments over music, image, and money. 'Money,' she thought, ' when has it ever been about money? We spent nine months living in a van with only $500 for food and other necessary supplies. We got by just fine. Money wasn't a big deal back then so why should it be now?'

She closed her eyes and laid her head back on the arm of the couch. Blowing hair out of her face, she put her ear buds in her ears. She listened to her band's debut record. She smiled. She hadn't smiled in a long time, but now all of the memories were coming back to her.

She remembered the time they dared Elijah, their drummer, to steal this old lady's huge feathery hat and run. He did it, but the same old woman chased him down four streets. She recalled the time Tate, their bassist, walked into a gas station for food in only his boxers and he didn't know it because he was so tired.

She also remembered quite well the time they were playing spin the bottle. She remembered her spinning it and landing on Frank. She still recalled the nervous laugh he gave in his accent she had grown to love. She could still remember the feeling of his lips against hers and how soft the kiss was.

Beatrice raised her hand to her lips; she remembered the tingling feeling she felt for hours after the kiss. Then she shook her head, 'No, I can't be thinking like that, he's a good friend and nothing more.'

A sudden sound of a door slamming startled her, making her whip her head around. It was Frank, but she could tell something was off. He had a look that could kill the entire United States population all at once. If she hadn't known him properly, she would have thought he was the devil himself!

He stood there at the door for several moments, just staring into the room, making Beatrice more and more anxious. He took a few tentative steps into the room, took a deep breath, and reached over to the nearest table and flipped it in an angry rage. He tore through everything in his path, he flipped chairs, he ripped lamps and appliances from the walls and threw them. Beatrice quickly got up off the couch. "Frank! FRANK! What are you doing!?"

He turned to her, panting heavily, and advanced on her screaming, "THIS IS YOUR FAULT!"

She was scared. "My fault? What's my fault?"

"EVERYTHING! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!"

"Frank I have no idea what you're talking about! Please j-just calm down o-okay?"

He pushed her hard against the nearest wall. "CALM DOWN!? YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN?! YOU THINK IT'S THAT EASY?!"

She closed her eyes tightly and spoke quietly, " No, no, I'm s-sorry I just… can you p-please explain to m-me what's g-going on?"

"I know what you're planning, Beatrice! I KNOW that you're trying to get me replaced! You, Tate, and Elijah are ALL planning on kicking me out, but GUESS WHAT! I'M NOT LEAVING!"

Replaced? He thought they were going to replace him? Where would he get an idea like that? She worked up the courage to speak up, "W-where did you hear t-that?"

He smiled a sinister smile, his smooth British accent just added to the evil quality in his voice, "So it is true, you were going behind my back."

"NO, Frank! I w-was-"

He punched the wall right next to her head. "Stop LYING to me! All you do is LIE! Lie, lie, lie! You told me you weren't doing drugs. LIE! You told me you stopped drinking. LIE! And now you go behind my back, betray my trust, and you LIE! YOU. BETRAYED. ME! I'm beginning to see a PATTERN here."

Beatrice was in tears, she didn't know what to do or say, and he wouldn't listen to her properly. She didn't understand why he was doing this to her.

Frank backed away a bit and gave her some space. "You know, I think I realize why your parents left you all those years ago! They knew they wouldn't be able to handle all of your backstabbing and lies!"

"TAKE THAT BACK!"

"So they dropped you off on my parents doorstep instead, so they could deal with you! You became their little inconvenience! Let's face it! You're better off out of everyone's lives, Beatrice! Your parents, my parents, MY band, and especially ME!"

Beatrice couldn't recall what he had said next. She just remembered something shattering inside her. Whether it was her heart or something else, she didn't know. However, she did know that she felt… numb. She didn't feel it when he pushed again, this time against a mirror, which shattered into a million tiny pieces. She didn't hear it shatter and she didn't hear his footsteps retreat from the room.

She just sat there a while, until she worked up the energy to get up and walk out of the destroyed room. She walked out the door and onto the sidewalk outside. She needed a drink.

" I'm so sorry, Beatrice. I was completely out of line. I hope you can forgive me even though I know I don't deserve it."

She mentally shook her head out of her flashback and looked at him, mostly sober now. His blue eyes were red and bloodshot. His skin was pale, paler than usual, he looked sick. His thick black hair was unruly and matted. He looked like he had been through hell and back.

She reached over and placed her hand on his cheek and stroked it lightly, " I'll forgive you, if you tell me from whom you heard that god awful rumor from."

He closed his eyes and leaned in at her touch and said, " It was Luke, from the record label."

"And why would you believe him? Him? Of all people?"

"I don't know… I just thought… I was really convinced you really wanted to get rid of me. I was scared and confused, love. I didn't want to lose you, you're my mate."

Mate. Friend. So that's all she was to him. She could honestly say she was disappointed. She realized now that after all of the years of living with him and his parents, that the little crush she had on him had grown over all these years. She loved the way he spoke; it gave pleasant shivers down her spine. She liked when he allowed her to run her hands through his silky hair. She liked how protective he was of her back when they were children and growing up. He would frighten off any bully or guy that took an interest in her. He took on the role of her older brother. An older brother she had now come to love.

" I would never replace you, Frank. How could I? You're all I've got." He gave her a small smile and placed his hand over hers, gently taking it off his face. He intertwined their fingers and compared her small hand to his larger one. Their hands fit perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle.

He looked back up into her eyes, " I was just stupid… and I had a lot of pent- up anger and frustration. I'm so sorry I hurt you. I promise you I will never do it again." He raised his free hand to the nape of her neck, stroking the fine red hairs there.

" It's okay, Frank. I'm fine. You didn't push me that hard," She tried to reassure him.

"I shouldn't have pushed you at all! GOD, I'm such an idiot!"

She gave him a big smile, "No, you're my idiot."

He chuckled, "I do suppose I am." They laughed together for a few seconds. Then it got quiet again, and they continued just staring at each other, analyzing each other, trying to figure out what the other was thinking. Beatrice couldn't help but notice how chapped his lips looked. He noticed her staring and leaned in close to her. "Beatrice?"

"Yeah, Frank?"

" Do you remember last January when we were bored one day on the tour bus?"

" Yeah, it was cold and we got snowed in."

" And we decided to play spin the bottle?"

" Yeah." She didn't think he remembered it.

" And it was your turn and you spun it, and it landed on me?"

"Yeah." Where was he going with this?

" Do you remember what it felt like? 'Cause I do."

" . . . " She couldn't answer. Her breath caught.

" No? Let me refresh your memory." At that moment, he kissed her. It was way different from the kiss, back in January. This kiss had more feeling in it; she could feel his passion, his sincerity, and most importantly his love. Then all too soon he stopped. He pulled back and watched her reaction.

She was completely lost for words. She sat there with her mouth agape. He smiled at her reaction and said, " Did I literally take the words right out of your mouth?"

She let out a breath and a laugh. " Yeah, I really think you did." She paused, trying to collect her rushing thoughts, She shook her head in disbelief, she couldn't remember the last time she had a lost for words.

Frank started laughing at her continuing confusion and he couldn't stop. He couldn't find the will to stop laughing. The whole situation was just so surreal to him. He never thought something like this would actually happen, to him of all people. ' This only happens in those cheesy romance movies,' he thought, ' Guy likes girl, guy screws up, guy saves the girl, guy and girl kiss, get together, live happily ever after. It cant be that simple.'

' Is he seriously laughing at me right now?' Beatrice thought. She was looking at him with one eyebrow so high; it was probably hidden in her hair now. His laughing died down when her saw her face. He covered up his final laughs with coughs. And it was silent again.

" I um… I wasn't laughing at you; I swear it's just uh… I can't believe that just happened. I … just… wow."

She smiled, " Wow is right, I forgot how good a kisser you were." She knew she had boosted his ego quite a bit.

"Wanna give it another go, love?"

"Yeah" and he kissed her again, gentler this time. She kissed him back.

They pulled away, minutes later, completely out of breath, and flushed. They caught their breath and Frank spoke in a husky voice, " I want you to make me a promise okay?"

Beatrice smiled at him; she was in pure euphoria now, " What's that Frank?"

"I want you to stop the drinking, the drugs and the partying. I want you to start living"

She nodded. She wanted to live as much as he wanted her to. It was a promise she could easily agree to. "I promise."

He smiled widely and gave her a gentle kiss. " I love you, I always have," he said as he took the car out of park and into drive.

He never heard her response though. At that exact moment, a semi truck hit them head on at the intersection.

When Beatrice opened her eyes three weeks later, she hurt. She hurt all over, especially her throat. She was in a bright, sterile white room; there were beeping noises all around her. It took her a minute to realize she was in a hospital bed. She tried to call out for help, but nothing, not a word could come out of her mouth. Luckily for her, a nurse came in to check on her. She looked up from her clipboard to see she was awake.

"Good God! You're awake!" She ran to get a doctor. It took all of 5 seconds. Beatrice counted, for her and a doctor to come back. The doctor walked up to her bed and said, " Hello how are you feeling, Beatrice? We weren't sure you were ever going to wake up.

Ever going to wake up? What was that supposed to mean? She opened her mouth to ask, but once again all she heard was silence.

"You are probably wondering why you are here, correct? Please do not panic when I tell you this, okay? You were in an accident a few weeks ago, a terrible crash; they had to cut you out of the car. You suffered many injuries, mainly to the torso and neck. You had to undergo surgery while you were unconscious to repair your throat, including your vocal cords. We did the best we could but I'm sorry to report that the damage was too great. The damage on your vocal cords is permanent."

Permanent? Surely he doesn't mean- no he couldn't mean… She couldn't talk anymore? Ever? But if she can't talk then how is she supposed to… Did this mean she couldn't sing anymore? No singing meant that she had nothing; she couldn't fulfill her dream. She would never get there. She had no purpose, no other talents. What was she supposed to do with her life? Wait.

Beatrice made a writing motion with her hand. The doctor handed her a pen and paper. Beatrice started writing in her chicken scratch. She held up the paper that now said, "Where is Frank?"

The doctor gave her a pitied look. "He didn't make it, he died on impact. I'm so sorry."

He didn't make it! He didn't make it! He didn't make it!

She couldn't believe her ears. She stared blankly ahead. The doctor tried to get her to come to her senses but his attempts were futile. She was numb. The doctor and nurse left the room to give her some time to herself.

Gone. He couldn't be gone! That was impossible, improbable even. He couldn't be dead! He promised when they were kids that he would be there forever, that he would never leave her!

Gone. How could he be so selfish?! How could he just leave her here, with no one who truly cared about her anymore? No one to understood her, like he did. No one could understand her now! She was mute now, how could he?

Gone. Now the realization began to kick in. He wasn't coming back. She would never see his smiling face again, or hear his beautiful, smooth voice. She would never feel his warmth when he hugged her or his soft lips when he kissed her. She missed him but her heart didn't ache, it was shattered!

Then she remembered the promise she made him, to live. So, at that moment, she vowed to keep that promise. And so she did.