Red Suede Shoes Walking Two Thousand Leagues

by Nev Longbottom

Bandom Fic Maja wanted to try something different. Vicky thought it could be interesting. Ashlee was a little afraid not to join the band. Jamia's always wanted something like this. Matt doesn't have any other choice. This is a story about second chances.

1. Chapter 1

((A/N: Beta Work by Sesshiyuki.

This was written for the 2009 Bandgirls Big Bang. When the challenge first came out, I wanted to write about the women that after nearly always erased or ignored in bandom fics. People who are nearly always turned into throw away line characters, or a passing mention or a one dimensional villain. I wanted to pull all the cracks together and see what it would be like if they made a band.

There isn't really a story line, or a rising climax, or a major problem for anyone to overcome. This is a few months of each character's life as this band was built. This is a piece of their lives in this verse pulled out and held up. If you want to read about people who go out and do amazing things and rock the world and change everything for the better- well, this fic is not for you. If you want to read about people sort-of pulling themselves together, then you might as well get in the car.))

"Shit," she says. "Shit, shit shit shit shit."

She turns the ignition off and rests her head against the steering wheel. Deep breaths, just like Dad says to take when things get messy. The driveway is pretty long and wide, but it's also completely congested with cars. There are a couple parked in the grass but Ashlee would rather leave her car sitting in the street than actually park in some yard.

Ashlee would actually prefer not to be at this party at all, but she can't stand the thought of seeing Jessica tomorrow and telling her she spent another Saturday night home alone, watching Jay Leno. She turns the rear view mirror towards her and checks her make up in the mirror.

"Okay, one hour Ashlee and you can go home," she says, looking herself right in the eyes. "One hour will totally prove to Jess that you are not a homebody loser." Eyeshadow, check. Foundation, check. Lip gloss, check. God, she hates her sister's stupid, judgmental face sometimes.

Ashlee adjusts her bangs, puts the mirror back in position and hops out of the car. It's been a while since she's gone to any L.A. parties. Most of her ballet friends are in New York and the people she first met when Jessica was setting up her career are people she never wants to see again. She's a bit of a homebody, but considering how bad things have gotten since the SNL disaster, she doesn't care anymore.

She's surprised at how suburban the neighborhood is. Sure, the houses are pretty large and far apart from one another, but there are tricycles and basketball hoops in the driveways. His house is pretty easy to find. The driveway is completely congested and she can hear the music's bass line from the edge of his are people outside the front doors but in no particular line order. She must be later than she thought if there's no line to get into the party. She scans the crowd at the door until she spots a short, wiry topless man covered in tattoos and holding a clipboard. He seems a little drunk for her standards of a bodyguard, but for all she knows Pete Wentz might like having his security team smoking and drinking on his porch.

The bouncer holding the clip board raises an eyebrow when she steps on to the porch in front of him. "Can I help you?" he says politely.

Ashlee's can feel herself blush in humiliation. It's been years since any one has made her do this. "Ashlee Simpson? I should be on the list?" Her voice hitches during the last comment, because it's a lie, but she's willing to gamble they won't stop her from going in. He stares at her.

The man next to him elbows the him. "Andy, she thinks you're the help!"

The bouncer- Andy does a double take and starts apologizing frantically. "Oh my god. No, I'm not- Pete doesn't- I- The clipboard's for a PETA petition," Andy finally stammers. "Dude, I- You can just go in. Pete doesn't have any bouncers or anything. We just lurk out here to scare off creepers. Sorry," he says earnestly. The other people on the porch start laughing. Ashlee stammers an apology herself and goes in through the front door before he asks her if she wants to sign the petition.

She's already regretting coming here.

The furniture, a couple of tacky looking sofas, have been pressed against the wall. There are not one but three disco balls hanging from the ceiling. Strobe lights illuminate the crowd, a crowd which can't seem to decide if it's an orgy or a mosh pit. But none of those things intimidate Ashlee more than the fact she can't recognize any body on the dance floor.

She hides in the kitchen.

Hiding in the kitchen turns out to be crazy fun. The appliances look barely used, but there are mountains of soft drinks, pizza varieties, and liquor to keep Ashlee entertained until she can leave. Anything sooner than an hour and Perez Hilton would insinuate a dramatic fight of some kind. Ugh. After two drinks, Ashlee can shimmy to the music behind the swing door. It creaks so she has enough of a warning to pretend to be fixing herself a drink. People go to the kitchen in groups so she gets to listen in during the middle of a lot of interesting conversations and meet tons of interesting people.

Travis McCoy for example makes her giggle when he places a kiss to the back of her hand. Nick Scimeca turns out to be the guy who planned the entire party, and is possibly on a mission to persuade three girls at the party to sleep with him at once. Ashlee has to give him props for determination. William Beckett introduces her to this guy named Gabe, who Ashlee's pretty sure has x-ray vision. The only downside to hiding by the booze is that most of the party goers mistake for a bartender.

Gabe pops in to check on her often enough that when the kitchen door swings open with the word Cobra, Ashlee instinctually respond with, "No Gabe, I am not going to your basement."

It's not Gabe who walks in, but two tall, graceful women who start laughing when they hear her. "Gabanti strikes again, Maja" says the brunette, smirking when she goes to pour herself a cup of vodka.

"William has Gabe watch tonight right, Victoria?" The blond woman, slightly shorter than Ashlee with fey features starts mixing her own drink in a red plastic cup.

Ashlee scowls. "The only thing William Beckett has is opinions on music with a capital O."

Victoria and Maja start arguing about how music can be used as an expression of art. The ease of the conversation and the smiles they give one another tells Ashlee this is all an old hat to them but she grateful for the chance to talk to someone other than Jose Cuervo about something meaningful. In between kitchen visitors she drank tequila. Maja and Vicky make short work of the vodka, in makes them get creative with the drinks.

The longer they stand there talking and mixing drinks, the stranger the conversation gets. "Four minutes and thirty three seconds is like musical splatter art. It's funny to laugh at, but I wouldn't take it seriously," says Vicky, slurring at the edges of her words.

Maja nods enthusiastically, "What I want to see is Dali-like music! Strange, wonderful songs that blur the lines between genres. Absurd pieces that still inspire emotion, awe and joy. Something that people can't describe with words, only sounds." There's a yearning in her voice and Ashlee feels like she can honestly relate. She loves making music but there's only so much you change and still be successful or considered seriously.

On that thought, Ashlee smiles at the other girls in the room, "I know just the song!" She sings a few bars of "Never Gonna Give You Up" before she has the sense to admit to herself she's too drunk to drive home. "Here, have my car keys!"

She hands them to Vicky who grins at her a little too widely for Ashlee's comfort. "Do I have something in my teeth?" Ashlee asks nervously.

Maja glances at Vicky, who arches an eyebrow in return. Maja glances back at Ashlee and Vicky gives a slight nod. Ashlee is suddenly painfully aware that the two of them are between her and the exit.

"Do you play in a band?" Maja asks.

Ashlee's eyes widen - Jessica always said she looked like an alien when she did it -and she takes a gulp of the drink in her hand before she has a massive attack of word vomit and says something like, "No, but I have studio musicians and I even feed them twice a day!" She would say it, too. She knows herself well enough to keep a stash of snicker bars in her purse for when she needs a moment to 'chew it over.'

Ashlee manages to stammer part way through an explanation along the lines of, "No, I'm not in a band exactly, but I do sing," before Maja cuts her off.

"Vicky and I are starting a side project. You should audition for us." It's not really a tone she can argue with and Ashlee is not drunk enough to explain that she's a very successful pop singer. All of her childhood insecurities rear their ugly head for a moment, so she thinks to heck with it and excuses herself to the dance floor.

The last thing she remembers is grinding between Pete Wentz (horse teeth, oh my god) and Gabe Saporta (Surprisingly dances like a gentleman) before waking up the next morning on a couch next to a pile of dirty laundry. On the second glance, she can see that the dirty laundry is Andy's friend Joe. The close resemblance to a homeless man is stronger in the daylight with him sleeping off a hangover.

She also has no idea where her socks and shoes are. "Maybe you shouldn't go to Pete Wentz' party," Ashlee mutters bitterly under her breath. She should have known better than to give in to reverse psychology. The sofa she's lying on looks better in the daylight. Strobe lights do strange things to clothing. Just looking around, she can see a couple other unfamiliar faces lying around the room.

Without a mob of dancers, the living room looks really big. Bay windows all along the wall to either side of the door, nice hardwood flooring, and a chandelier even her mom would approve of. If it wasn't for the red plastic cups covering every surface, she would call it beautiful.

In the kitchen Ashlee finds one naked unconscious Andy Hurley, a box of trash bags, and a big orange tabby eating a slice of leftover pizza.

Ashlee ignores the cat, tucks a garbage bag over Andy's naked butt, and starts throwing anything and everything that looks like trash into bags. One by one, other party goers wake up and either walk out the door or start helping her. Maja and Travis organize a little crew of people to cook breakfast. A tiny man named Nate helps Ashlee clean the living room and tie up the trash bags. There's eight large bounty bags full by the time they're done, but the smell from the kitchen is fantastic.

"So, William here is making waffles," Travis says when she walks into the kitchen, pointing a finger at a beautiful man wearing an apron. Huh. So that's what William looks like when she's sober. Weird. He waves quickly before pulling a plate out of the cupboard. "I'm over here trying not to burn any of the toast or bagels, the condiments are to your left and Suarez is making omelets. Want anything?" Alex waves a spatula in her direction.

It all smells fantastic, but Ashlee can't quite make up her mind. A timer goes off and one of the people crammed around the kitchen table hops up. "Shift, guys. I've got to get my muffins!"

Ashlee knows what she wants. "What kind?" she asks.

"Blueberry!" The muffins he pulls out look the golden kind of delicious, and the tattooed man crows into the air. "Ha ha, bitches! The Butcher for the win!" Ashlee licks her lips. It smells amazing, hot blueberry scent floating in the air.

Ashlee leans over the sink to wash her hands from the sticky feeling of dried beer. Pete Wentz walks in groaning a few second later. His eyeliner is smeared into a ridiculous raccoon look but unlike the rest of them, he shuffles in wearing black sushi footie pajamas.

"Fucking Butcher fucking crowin'..." he starts, trailing off when he gets a good look at everyone in the kitchen. Ashlee freezes, remembering vividly that she was never actually invited to his party in the first place. Pete stares right at her, then at the boys still cooking.

"Who cleaned?" he says huskily.

Ashlee slowly raises her hand. Pete looks confused for a moment but then Ashlee sees the recognition settle in. "Ashlee Simpson cleaned my house," he mumbles to himself and then squints at her, as if to make sure she is in fact Ashlee Simpson.

She holds her breath.

"The only way I can love you more right now is if you have aspirin," Pete says and Ashlee feels herself blush. Travis reaches over her head and pulls out a tiny white bottle from the cabinet above.

Pete nods. "I love you, Travis. Marry me. We can make beautiful hangover cures together." Travis shrugs him off.

They all settle in together and Ashlee likes how comfortable everyone is with each other. It's like an intimate brunch version of last night's party. She glances at her watch and swears under her breath. "Gotta go catch up with my sister, bye guys!" She nearly walks right out the front door before she remembers what Jessica's career taught her the hard way, always look out the window first.

She's just about to walk out when she sees movement next to her car out in the street. "Fuck," she swears loudly. There's a clattering noise from the kitchen. Pete and a couple others come running.

"Everything all right?" Pete gives her a worried look.

"Paparazzi found my car," she sigh. This is apparently the wrong thing to say because half the kitchen rushes out. They zoom straight for the bay windows. Ashlee just leans against the back of the door. She can either call for her sister to pick her up, call for a taxi, or try and wait them out. None of which are options that appeal to her. Joe points through the center window. "Look, Pete! It's your first pap!"

Pete studies the cameras out on his street carefully and then smiles. "I know exactly what to do. Quick, to the costume room!"

"You don't have a costume room," Andy says. "You mean your closet?"

Pete scowls.

Fifteen to twenty minutes later, twenty eight musicians rush forth out of Pete Wentz' house very badly dressed as pirates. Ashlee's at the back of the group, laughing too hard to join the chase. The paps look shocked. Instead of taking pictures, the photographers run. The man holding the video camera freezes in place.

"Hurry!" yells Maja. It's just close enough to hurt Ashlee's ear. She fumbles to get her door unlocked with the girls on either side standing guard.

Ashlee hops into her car before the camera guy can get a fix on her. Vicky-T throws in Ashlee's heels and slams the door behind her.

Pete waves at her when she pulls out of his driveway. The parrot beanie baby duct-taped to his shoulder wobbles. Call me, he mouths at her.

She's still laughing when she hits the freeway. She totally, totally will.

Dad calls her on Wednesday. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to a party? I would have arranged for bodyguards."

Ashlee rolls her eyes. "Hello to you too, Dad. Did I end up in Star again?"

"You're on TMZ and on Perez Hilton. Turn on your television."

"What?" she shrieks, dropping her phone on the couch to scramble for the remote. Ashlee turns on her TV and flips through the channels until she finds a group of badly dressed pirates on TV, running towards the camera.

The camera guy is perfectly still for a moment before he starts swearing and running, the camera's shooting nothing but grass. Half a second later and there's a perfect upside down shot of Ashlee wearing hot pink shorts, suspenders, fishnet stockings, and wearing a paper eye patch colored in sharpie. Her hair is a mess and she's got both her heels in her left hand, but Ashlee can see herself laughing so hard that Maja has to support her weight. Vicky-T's laughing on Ashlee's other side, snatching the heels and throwing them in the car once Ashlee gets the door open.

It cuts back to the TV shows host looking horrified. "I can't tell if she's doing the walk of shame or running away from a pirate commune. You say these people she's with are musicians?"

A scruffy blond guy up front nods. "Turns out the house belong to Pete Wentz, the bassist from Fall Out Boy."

The boss looks contemplative. "What does Perez Hilton say?"

One of the girls in the back stands up, "He's saying it could be an orgy. Apparently one of the bands that were there has a reputation."

"Huh," says boss man. "Lucky Ashlee."

Ashlee turns off the television and puts her cell phone back to her ear. "...Daddy?"

"This is why you don't do this without telling me. I'm very disappointed in you Ashlee. I want you to keep a low profile until this orgy rumor blows over. Don't talk to those people and don't be seen in public with them."

Ashlee bites her lip. He shouldn't be able to make her feel this miserable with herself after all these years.

"Also, Ginger says to remind you about the meeting you have at the studio with some musicians. Monday at two, got that?"

"Yes, Dad," she says, nodding while saying the word.

Dial tone. Her father never was good at saying good bye.

She doesn't remember any meeting though. A quick series of text messages to Ginger, her PA, lets her know that a Miss Maja Ivarsson and a Miss Victoria Asher called to make sure Ginger would remind Ashlee about the meeting time for a side project band.

Don't worry, I haven't told Joe you're joining a band. When he finds out, he'd better not know I helped you cover this up, shows up in her inbox. Ashlee makes a mental note to give Ginger a raise and find out how the hell the other women managed to arrange something so quickly.

You're also supposed to bring shoes for jumping, shows up in her inbox from Ginger. Ashlee startles. "Did I just accidentally join a punk band?"

Her phone vibrates in her hand. "You weren't actually supposed to answer," she hisses before she checks the caller ID. FUCKING AWESOME.

She has no idea who the hell is calling. She hits accept call anyway. "Um, hello?"

"You didn't call me." Ashlee tries to remember who she hasn't called back lately. The list is pretty long, even when she eliminates the girls voices. It's a deep voiced man on the other end, young. When was the last time she heard from Justin Timberlake?

The voice on the other end blurts out the answer. "It's Pete. Wentz. You cleaned my house?"

Ashlee can feel herself blushing purple. "You programed yourself into my phone?"

There's an awkward pause on the other hand of the line with the sounds of someone laughing hysterically in the background yelling, "Oh my god, you loser!"

"I was just calling to apologize about the orgy thing. I wouldn't have told you to call me if I had known they were going to make up bullshit. So, yeah. I'm sorry for the orgy." Ashlee wants to takes he phone and throw it against the wall, screw Wentz. Still, at least he called.

"It's not you fault," she offers finally. "With my luck right now, the publicity probably helped me out. So thanks. For the orgy, not the phone thing. Programing your number into my phone is just creepy." She has gotten restraining orders for less.

"I can't believe you just thanked me for an orgy," Pete says. He sounds impressed. "I have a feeling about you."

Ashlee pulls the phone away from her ear and stares at it strangely. It's not the same as giving Pete Wentz the weirded out look, but it gets the urge out of her system. "Please don't confuse me with gas."

"No, I mean it. The orgy is just your argyle socks." Why does she get stuck with all the crazies? Is there a past life she's still paying for? What the hell do socks have to do with orgies? "We're going to be best friends forever. Does Lisa Frank still make friendship bracelets?"

"You don't make any sense,"Ashlee snaps. "I have a studio session. Later." She hangs up on him and lets the phone go to voicemail when he calls back. She has a come back to make and a publicity nightmare to deal with, she's not going to put up with a delusional musician on top of it.

She also has to buy shoes for the band audition thing. "What do you do for a band audition?" Ashlee wonders out loud.

"Okay, I have got to stop talking out loud to myself. And maybe google search their side project."

The music isn't punk. It's sure as hell not pop either. Ashlee meets them at a tiny warehouse that Maja informs her is used by The Sounds whenever they need to mess around with some new songs. It's soundproof and crammed with instruments. "You know the Sounds?" Ashlee says, trying to make conversation. The other two just laugh.

"I want to keep her," Vicky says to Maja, grinning. Maja smiles at Ashlee indulgently. "They are my band."

Ashlee's cheeks burn. She hates looking like a idiot in public. It's like asking for blond jokes.

Ashlee arrived to a space already set up for them to start jamming. Maja has a bunch of lyrics scribbled on a legal pad for her. The lyrics are so not Ashlee's thing but the keytar and the electric guitar work together to make a fluid sound. Ashlee's not quiet sure what kind of music she's hearing, but her feet are moving easily to it and she finds herself smiling at the end of every song.

She tries singing the lyrics to their half finished harmonies but gives up part way through. Instead, she sings whatever words come to her as they go. They stop when Vicky's fingers are too sore tire to hit the right notes and Maja starts lagging behind the tempo.

"When can we do that again," Ashlee asks and then startles. Her voice is a lot hoarser than she thought it would be. Then again, it wasn't like the music was anywhere near the style that she recorded for Autobiography. Vicky's smiling that strange half-grin again.

"I knew she was the right girl," Vicky says out loud. They make arrangements to meet up again a week later.

Ashlee likes the way her feet ache from dancing in her new character shoes. She's only ever danced in ballet shoes and heels, but she's always wanted to try character shoes, with their soft padding, spring heel and fancy straps. This band is a character shoe band.

The second meeting goes even better than the first. The band meetings become the high point of Ashlee's week, right after pictures Pete Wentz keeps sending her of Lisa Frank merchandise. It's like having a friend.

She's almost forgotten what that's like. She's been in L.A. too long.

She breaks the news about the band to her dad by first telling him she was goofing off in the studio with some new song ideas, and then weaning him on the idea of her trying other projects. Finally, she flat out admits to wanting to be in a proper band with the other girls. He laughs at her.

"Alright, honey, but when things don't work out, you have to audition for that Transformers sequel. Just because your acting skills aren't up to par with Jess is no reason you can't have a perfectly good career." The worst part about their relationship, Ashlee thinks, is that Dad thinks those kinds of comments are compliments.

Officially, right now, Ashlee is supposed to be working on songs for her new solo album. She's not on a break. Dad swears up and down that real professional don't take breaks, they either go on vacation or work on new material. Ashlee's mostly writing music for Vicky and Maja.

Her band. She's worked with studio musicians before, but they're different. It's not like hanging out and making music with Maja and Vicky. That's why when Vicky reminds her the two of them are booked to leave on tour in a weeks time, Ashlee wilts at the edges.

"Already? But you guys just finished the music video for Bring It!"

Maja comes along side Ashlee, giving her a half hug that squeezes the neck of her Gibson into Ashlee's stomach. "Touring is what I do best. The Snakes and Suits Tour will be over before you start to miss us, I promise."

Ashlee throws a mini-party to celebrate their touring. She orders Chinese food and they all stay in and watch horror movies where teenagers or road trips get killed. "This is background research so in case a crazy fan comes after you, you guys know exactly what not to do," Ashlee says. "Kinda like learning to fly by throwing yourself at the ground and missing." When the girls leave at the end of the night, Ashlee walks them out the door and waves until they go away.

She keeps writing songs with them on the road. Vicky sends Ashlee video clips pretty regularly with the two of them playing some of their new songs on a tiny bus while a crowd of boys in the background try to have a Halo tournament.

Maja sends Ashlee pictures instead of texts to keep her updated, calling when she has a spare minute here or there to take about the sound clips Vicky sent and how they want the music to sound.

Ashlee's actually at a red carpet movie premiere, Jessica's starring, when her cell phone goes off in the middle of a camera interview. She laughs so hard the interviewer asks to see the message and Ashlee actually shows him. It's a picture of Vicky curled up, head on her knees. She's wearing red ruby shoes and holding up a sign saying "No place like home, sister."

She excuses herself from the interview and slips into the bathroom at the theater to call Maja. She doesn't have much time so she just flat out asks if it would be possible for Ashlee to go hang out with them on tour.

There's a long pause on the other end, and she can faintly hear Maja yelling in Swedish with a chorus of voices yelling back. Maja sounds almost happy when she replies to Ashlee. "I will send you a ticket." Ashlee sends Pete a text letting him know. Sweetness shows up in her inbox twenty seconds later.

She meets them in New York. The girls send a security guard to meet Ashlee at the airport. "We're playing on stage when your plane arrives, but we'll be on the bus by the time you make it across the city," Vicky tells her during an audio chat.

Her phone's call log says 3 Missed Calls: Joe Simpson. He's been more and more vocally against the thought of working with Vicky and Maja, but Ashlee figures that if she's on a break, she can afford to have fun. If she ends up like Jessica in a celebrity bridge club before she's thirty, Ashlee's going to have to shoot herself.

She's surprised by how many names she remembers from the party when she gets there. The girls arrange for Ashlee to have a bunk on the Cobra bus. Ryland is sweet enough to present her with a certificate reading Honorary Cobra. Everyone claps when she thanks him. Nate even bakes a cake for the occasion, butter cream with neon sprinkles.

Over the course of the next couple weeks, the three of them manage to complete five more songs in between tour hijinks. Or as close to complete as they can get. "Ugh, why does it feel like we're missing something!" Ashlee throws her hands in the air.

"I think we need a drummer," Maja insists. "Loop tracks are not the same as a drummer."

"Or maybe back up vocals?" Ashlee throws in. "A choral sound could really fill out the edges of 'Check Yes or No.' We could do the electronic Simon & Garfunkel thing."

Vicky mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "John Ringo," but refuses to admit she said anything when Ashlee tries to call her on it. They agree to take a mini-break and focus on paperwork instead.

Pete had insisted on signing them to Decaydance and arranging for a flexible contract with FBR. As far as Vicky had been concerned, it was Fueled By Ramen or nothing. Maja didn't care either way and Ashlee didn't want to begin to think about the logistics of trying to produce and promote an album without label help.

"I did this for Gabe because he was worth it," Pete had said when he was still trying to convince Ashlee. "Cobra Starship was totally worth it and I have the same feeling about you guys. Trust in the feeling, Princess. Patrick believes me."

Vicky mostly just has to sign at the bottom of a few forms because she's already on the Decaydance vanity label as well as being legally represented by FBR. Ashlee's got a slightly larger mess to deal with and legal complications to she has to send a lot of her time faxing papers at venues to her lawyers and avoiding Dad's calls.

Pete does the occasional three way conference call when something needs to be clarified or changed. Ashlee's surprised by how professional Pete manages to be when it's about the band. It's hard for her to remember that the professional on the line is the same guy who sends her picture of his band drawing penises on Joe Trohman while he's sleeping.

Those dorky antics are one only of the only things that cheers with Ashlee after she calls her dad. Every other word out of his mouth is a warning that this isn't going to work out and Ashlee has just enough doubts that she can't afford to let herself hear this stuff from her father. Not when everything else he says is about how proud he is of Jessica.

She almost feels guilty about filling out the paperwork without his permission but he's not her legally her manager so he doesn't have to agree. The lawyer likes it. Jessica's supportive at least. Mom on the other hand, would have to call Ashlee to tell her how she feels and that hasn't happened since Ashlee bought the L.A. house months ago.

"Is this the right thing?" Ashlee asks Pete before she signs the last triplicate. "Should I have tried to work it out with Dad?"

"I dunno," Pete shrugs. It's a no eyeliner day so mostly he just looks like a scruffy hobo in a hoodie. "Ask Joe. He's my magic eight ball."

Ashlee signs. It's too late to wonder about what might have been. She's pretty sure she would have just caved in and done what he wanted if she tried talking to Dad about the band.

"Sweet. Welcome to the Decaydance family," Pete grins and waggles his eyebrows. "Did I mention we're incestuous?"

She punches him in the arm and laughs. She should have known Pete would say the right thing to make her feel better. He's her favorite surprise in life.

Gabe gives Ashlee an envelope after she washes her hair in the bus sink. "Consider yourself officially invited! You guys haven't picked a name yet, so we made it out to girl band. If you ever want to return the favor, let me know," Gabe leers at her but Ashlee just beams back. She's learned by now that leering is Gabe's way of saying hello in the morning.

The post card inside says"The Academy Is...THROWING A PARTY! Don't be late!" Ashlee's invitation has green and blue stars along the edges with a bunch of stick figure girls in the corner.

During shows Ashlee hangs out either by herself on the Cobra bus or with girlfriends and groupies. Christine, William Becket's wife, is organizing the actual event. According to her, if she let Bill and Gabe do it, they'd blow their budget on tinsel and glitter. Ashlee's been planning to go to this thing for weeks.

The party itself feels like a more compact version of Pete's party in L.A. Tons of people, tiny space, and hands everywhere. Ashlee feels a little out of place with no one to cuddle or grope herself until Siska curls up in her lap and starts filling her in on past shenanigans.

"The skinny dude in the corner between Gabe and Pete is Mikey Way! We've known My Chem since 2004. Gerard doesn't come out to parties much, but Mikey showed up with Frank, Jamia and Ray. They're our guests of honor." Siska points to a tall man in the corner with looming hair. "Ray is the epic hair guy. Frank was here, but since Jamia came too, they're either grinding somewhere in the middle of all that or having sex on another bus."

Epic hair g- Ray catches them looking at him. Ashlee smiles and waves, poking Siska until he does the same thing. Ray waves back and goes back to his own conversation. Ashlee stays for a couple of dances with Sisky and an honorary grind with Mikey Way ("Ooh! Slinky!") before heading back to the Cobra bus.

It's kind of eerie because there's a bass line coming from the inside. The closer she gets, the louder it is. If it was accompanied by a guitar, that would be different. Then she'd know it was just Ryland and Alex messing around with This Is Ivy League. It's coming from the back lounge, notes stacked in a steady groove that's really, really not Ryland style. "Ryland?" she calls out opening the door.

The brunette woman on the other side jerks her head up and freezes. Ashlee's never seen her before. The bass on the other hand sounded like the missing link to Girl Band. Strong and distinct instead of the usual mellow that she's been messing around with on Garage Band. "You!" she says, eyes open in surprise.

She's about to go on and say "...play like an angel, pretty please stay here while I get my band and talk them into asking you to join," only the stranger starts babbling.

She's so, so very sorry that she's playing the bass and her names Jamia, she's here with Frank. She just got really bored at the party and the fender was all alone, "And I couldn't help myself. I think Frank's rubbing off on me. Shit."

"Oh my god, you're the missing piece." Ashlee can hear the faint ghost or what a bass line would sound like on Necromiconventional. She is the missing piece to their music that they've been arguing over.

"Can I just leave so we can pretend this never happened?" Jamia says. "I'm not a crazy fan. Ask William or Gabe." She turns the amp by her feet off.

Ashlee uses her body to block the door frame. "Oh, oh no. You're not going anywhere until I get Maja and Vicky-T."

Jamia clutches the bass in front of her like a shield, taking a step away from Ashlee towards the wall. "My boyfriend disappeared to use the bathroom. He's going to notice if I'm missing."

Oh god, this sounds really bad in retrospect. Ashlee tries to explain, "No, it's more like this. We're missing something and you're the missing piece! I have these friends, well, more of a band really and we kind of need a bass player, and this is kind of a shitty way to try and recruit you-"

Jamia's voice cuts in, absolutely horrified. "Oh my god, you're Ashlee Simpson."

Ashlee stop and looks down at herself to verify this. She may be a little drunk. "I think this is Kismet." She says seriously,before running over to the bus door. "VICKY! MAJA! VICTORIA ASHER I FOUND US A BASSIST!" Jamia follows her as far as the front lounge, still holding the bass like a shield. "Look, I'm sorry, can I leave?"

Ashlee folds her arms stubbornly. "Not til they hear you play bass."

Jamia puts the Fender down on the sofa. "Listen here Simpson. I've apologized. I've given the fender back. I was willing to fuck off but if you think you can hold me here against my will, you have another thing coming you crazy bitch. Get out of my way before I kick your scrawny ass all the way back to Texas, capisce?" Jamia looks like she's about to resort to physical violence, but Ashlee's sure as hell not going to lose the missing piece that easy.

The door swings open and both of them glance at it. Jamia crumbles a little when she sees Vicky and Maja. Ashlee smiles at Jamia nervously before turning to Maja and Vicky. "It's her! Her bass! She's what we need! She's the last piece to the band."

Jamia's eyes dart back and forth between the three of them. "So, Vicky-T, can you explain what this crazy ass pop singer is doing holding me hostage."

Maja grins to Ashlee and stage whispers, "I like this one. She is feisty."

Vicky waits until Maja glances at her, and then the two of them stare into each other's eyes. Ashlee likes to think of it as their psychic link/Vulcan mind meld moment. Their faces twitch at the corners, but they communicate better than anyone else Ashlee's ever met. After a long creepy pause, Vicky breaks away and turns to smile at Jamia.

It's terrifying. Like watching Wednesday Adams.

Ashlee kinds of loves it.

"Pete's letting me set up a side project band with Maja and Ashlee," Vicky bites her lip, then tilts her head to the side. "Actually, I think you would fit in really well. You'd have to help us write bass lines into the songs...Jamia, would you please play bass for my band?"

Jamia's mouth drops open a little. The anger drains out of her face and is replace by complete surprise. She moves as if to speak but doesn't quite manage to form the words. She sits down quickly, missing the bass by a hair. "I think I need a fucking drink and time to think about this."

"Jamia! Say yes!" yells a man's voice from inside the bus.

The girls all turn around. The bathroom door pop open, letting out a tiny, heavily tattooed guy that Ashlee's never seen before. He's practically vibrating with excitement. Ashlee beams at him. She can't help it, it's like he's radiating joy.

Jamia's head darts up from her hands when she hears the voice. "Frank?" It's all the cue that the guy- Frank needs to rush over to Jamia.

He beams at the girls. "Sorry, wanted to eavesdrop on you two while I was taking a shit. Fucking glad I did! Jamia, baby, you have to say yes! You've always wanted to be in your own band and you know Vicky-T's not going to fuck you over."

Jamia looks complete baffled. "Frank, they want me to join their band! Look at them!"

Ashlee glances at herself and her band mates. Jamia's got a point, they don't look like members of the same band at all. Vicky's dressed in day glow colors from head to toe, with black wrist cuffs and a black belt around her dress. Maja's stage clothes can pretty much be described as "Jailbait Farmer's daughter" complete with tiny cut off shorts, a tiny plaid shirt, braids and vicious stilettos. She didn't have time to change clothes before the party. Ashlee's wearing her suede overalls with a tube top. She hasn't gotten around to redyeing her hair, so it's a scummy black with greying ends where she chews the tips. They don't even look like rock stars.

Frank glances at them briefly and shrugs. Ashlee waves back, despite a disapproving glare from Vicky. She can't help it! He's kind of adorable and scrappy. Frank pushes the girls to either side until he has enough space to kneel in front of Jamia. "You're the best bass player in the whole fucking world, baby. You should try it. If it doesn't work out, we can get married to cheer you up"

Jamia punches him lightly on the shoulder but he keeps smiling. "Impulsive decisions are your thing," Jamia says weakly. "What about the label?"

Ashlee can see Jamia's caving. She feels pressure on her wrist and she turns to look. Maja's slight head shake is enough to stop Ashlee from bouncing on the balls of her feet. Right. Not a done deal yet.

Frank bites his lip, thinking carefully for a moment. "Look, it's like you've been waiting your whole life for the right mix of people to come along. Give it a shot. If you're worried about the label, Mikey will help me. He's been talking about getting back into the scene anyway. We can hire assistants."

Jamia's shoulders slump and she turns to the girls for the first time since the Frank guy showed up. "Look, I'm gonna have to think about and hear you guys play before I decide anything, alright?"

Ashlee nods a little too eagerly while Vicky agrees, cool as anything. Jamia and Frank excuse themselves and leave the Cobra bus.

When the door closes, the girls start throwing high fives to each other. "She's as good as in!" Vicky shouts happily. Maja nods her agreement with a hint of smugness. Ashlee does a victory dance in the corner. She found the missing piece. Pete's not surprised when she texts him about it.

thrs a reasn i gave mikey the code to the bus

Jamia comes back the next day with Frank, still pretending she hasn't committed herself. Ashlee can see it in her eyes. She says she's just there to hear the music, only they barely get halfway through the first song when she says, "Wait- Wait" and runs outside. She comes back with a bass and a beaten up leather case. She starts playing something that sounds like what a bass line to "Gender Schmender" should sounds like.

Two hours later, they've rewritten "Gender Schmender" from start to finish. She promises to once she finalizes things and practically has to drag Frank off of The Sounds' bus. Johan is visibly disappointed.

It's awkward trying to come up with conversation when they aren't working on songs, but it fades pretty quickly. Jamia, Ashlee learns, is hilariously sarcastic. She's got a come back for everything. She's not put off by Maja's blunt abrasiveness, or Vicky's quiet, cool exterior or even Ashlee's manic states. She's also an organizational genius, because it only takes her another week to put her affairs in order and join them on tour.

Ashlee picks her up from the airport delighted in every possible way because, FINALLY, someone she can write music with while Vicky and Maja are at the venue. There's only so many sound checks Ashlee can sit through without wandering off to explore. She's already gotten lost twice at different venues to her utter humiliation. At least this way Ashlee can work on the music while Maja and Vicky do their thing.

They finish "Gender Schmender" "1776" "Heartbreaker" and "Hippocampus Harmony" that first week. The creative high is fantastic. Ashlee sends Pete a recording of "Hippocampus Harmony." Pete sends them back an email addressed to the whole band, raving about how fantastic they sound and how insanely perfect this song is going to be when they add in a live drum beat.

Ashlee groans into her hands. "We are going to have to get a drummer at this rate." The other girls all pale when they read the email. Jamia even goes on to let out a string of curse words. "What are the chances a drummer's going to land in our laps like me and Ashlee did?"

They get Youtube videos posted to their MySpace of all kinds of drummers. Ashlee watches most of the videos with Jamia during the day. Jamia's running commentary on their shit techniques is kind of hilarious, but even Ashlee winces at the one where every single drum is tuned too low for any kind of music.

Word gets out through Decaydance that the Girl Band side project AKA Maja's Death Brigade AKA Vicky-T's Assassin Squad AKA William Beckett's Favorites! is looking for a drummer. Pete starts sending them names of drummers he knows from the Chicago scene while Maja and Vicky gently investigate the idea of maybe getting a friend of a friend in oh it.

MSI sends them a message over Facebook letting them now in angry all caps to not so much as even think about taking Kitty after Kitty leaves them a note on MySpace offering to help until they find a permanent drummer.

Maja and Vicky almost manage to convince The Butcher to fill in but, as Maja tells Ashlee disgustedly, "Bill climbed into his lap and ruined everything!" Vicky fills in the rest of the story for Jamia and Ashlee, telling them about how Bill begged Andy to stay loyal to the band, even making Sisky give Andy doe eyes during the entire exchange until Carden banned them from the bus.

"No more TAI parties?" Ashlee asks sadly. Vicky shakes her head. They all sigh. Not because the parties would be missed, but because they know Gabe Saporta is going to try and bring the parties to them.

The ban barely lasts two days because two days later, a drummer pretty much falls into their laps.

After the Dallas show, Ashlee and Jamia have plans to go out for drinks with Maja. She's about to go in through the side door, when she sees someone waving frantically at them from behind the barrier. Ashlee doesn't recognize the face, but Jamia does because she looks surprised and calls out, "Otter? Matt Otter Pelissier?"

His clothes are pretty trashed. Boots shredded down to the point Ashlee can make out glimmers of steel in the toe. Even his drum sticks, sparkly purple, look grimy from where they stick out of his jeans pocket. Last Ashlee had heard anything about Matt Pelissier was when Jamia told her excitedly that her husband's band got a new drummer. Some kind of inner band scandal with the old one had ended with their drummer taking off.

"Shit, Otter, the fuck have you been?" Jamia says, hurrying over to him. He shrugs. Ashlee's uncertain about what to do, so she follows Jamia, smiling tentatively with the expression she used for dick interviewers.

Jamia starts battering with questions and Ashlee's impressed at the way this scruffy guy has the patience to wait until she runs out of things to ask and says, "I heard you need a drummer. I'm here to audition."

Jamia snorts, "Where's your kit, invisible?" Matt glares at her strong enough to make Ashlee flinch.

"Bob fucking Bryar has my kit, Jamia," he snaps, and then swears softly under his breath. "Can't I use one of your friends' kits? Please?"

Jamia gives him a look of open disguist before throwing her hands in the air. "Let's just get this over with. We are-"

"Yeah. I'll go get one of the techies to help me unload a kit. Marcus won't mind helping."

Jamia and Matt turn and stare at Ashlee who feels a little surprised herself that she said it. Ashlee's pretty sure she can look sadly at The Butcher until Andy let's them borrow his kit. At the very least, even if hobo guy is shitty, he could be like a tour musician until they find a real drummer.

"Ashlee, what are you doing?" Jamia hisses in Ashlee's ear, giving Matt a dirty look. "We can do better than this fucker."

"Look," she whispers back. "If he's good, we have a tour drummer until we get someone better. If he's not, maybe the Butcher will cave and help us out."

Jamia throws her hands in the air turns to Matt. "Come on, we've got to wait until the concert's over."

They get him through security and back on the bus, where Jamia's mouth forms a tight line and she starts cooking as much Italian food as their shitty bus kitchen can handle. Anthony, who spends a ridiculous amount of time on their bus anyway, just stands around and helps her as best he can considering Vicky 'forgot' to unlock the handcuffs before Cobra's set started.

Ashlee starts frantically texting Pete about Matt. mcr's old drummer auditioning. good idea? check y or n

Nate gets on the bus before the tiny cheering mob, takes one look and tells everyone that Cobra's partying on the TAI bus while Girl Band takes care of things.

"Thanks Nate!" Ashlee yells at his back.

Maja and Vicky get vague looks of recognition when they get on the bus. There's a couple seconds of movement between them, silent creepy communication that reaffirms their psychic status in Ashlee's head.

Jamia grabs the other two and pulls them into the back lounge with a quick, "Be back in a sec."

Matt just keeps inhaling the spaghetti Jamia set down in front of him. Ashlee just keeps beaming. It's the same smile since they found Matt, and her face kind of really hurts, but it's still better than staring at each other awkwardly.

The girls come back while the bus door shuts behind him. Ashlee gets off the couch and moves to stand with them, make a more uniform picture.

"Okay, Otter-"

"Matt," he says. He shifts his head and his eyes to the space above Jamia's head. "I go by Matt now."

"Here's what we're gonna do," says Vicky. Matt shifts his gaze to give Vicky his full attention. "We've got some song recordings without any drums. You'll listen today, crash on the Cobra couch, and then have a drum piece written by tomorrow for one of the songs. If we like it, you're in. If not, I'll call Brian and get you a plane ticket home."

Ashlee turns to stare at her band in horror part way through. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

Vicky nods and ducks with Ashlee into the backroom. Ashlee gives her a pointed look. "Tomorrow?" she snaps. "Isn't that a little cruel? You can't give him a real chance

Vicky bites her lip. "Matt...He was kicked out of My Chemical Romance. He was having problems keeping time in a live performance, there was an argument over a click track. Things got really ugly. We don't even play the style as he's used to. This way, we've officially given him a shot and we can get rid of him when he fucks it up without anyone crying foul."

Ashlee thought about it. It made some sense. If this guy really had been a shitty drummer, then there was no sense in leading him on or anything. Maybe she could stall. "How are we going to get a drum kit by tomorrow?"

"Nate's kit, Butcher's sticks and seat." Vicky countered. "I called Nate and asked already." Well, it was worth a shot.

Ashlee gives him her iPod to listen to. He sits in the tiny breakfast nook, eyes closed and drumsticks in his hand, twitching out beats over and over again. She stays up, pretending to watch a movie but keeping an eye on her sidekick. Pete starts texting her during the opening theme of Ferngully.

wtf, srsly, mcrs matt wants 2 join ur bnd?

i kno!

wur is he

on the bus. vckyt says he gets 1 shot. he jst looks drty

pix pls

She snaps a picture of Matt, head low, drumsticks blurring at the edges. It's a terrible picture since Matt's eyes are closed but he looks so angry and strung together that she can't make herself ask if she can take his picture.

keep me posted prncess

kk dorkface

Nate kind of quails in front of Vicky. He keeps the bitching about loaning out his drum kit to a minimum, only doing it when she leaves him to set it up outside on the asphalt. Matt helps, following any and every direction Nate gives him. The girls fetch their instruments while Matt warms up.

It's Vegas, so there are small crowds of fans watching them set up from a few feet away. Ashlee smiles and waves. A couple members of their audience waves back but mostly people just look confused.

Matt settles down behind the kick - Nate's hovering nervously a few feet away- and says the first thing he's said all morning. "1776. After the third hit on the kick drum, Vicky comes in where the song started before." He stares at them, waiting for an invisible signal.

Ashlee gives him a thumbs up and a smile. His lip twitches. He starts playing.

The drumming is his mind body and soul. She doesn't think she's ever seen someone so exposed. Ashlee misses her entrance because she's struck by how completely lost he is in the music. She jumps in on the second line. Maja sends her a glare, but the other two women don't even notice.

He ends the song not with a crash, but on the toms. Ashlee is beaming at him when he looks up. Even Jamia's smiling with a touch of wariness.

Maja's the one who says it though. "Welcome to the band." The fans are cheering from behind the balustrade. Ashlee throws her hands in the air and cheers with them, trying to do a belly dance she's been working on for "Mismatchmaker."

It's official, she texts Pete. Girl band has a drummer. wait til you hear the new 1776.

u guys r keepin matt p? 4 real?

Then, from Pete again a second later, coming out to hear you guys and talk things out w/ matt p can't trust my prncess 2 any1.

When she looks up from the sidekick, her bandmates are talking about song changes with Matt some of their music has changes since the crappy recordings Ashlee stuck on her iPod. Matt's still gruff on the edges, especially with Jamia, but Ashlee sees the suspicious twinkle of happiness lurking in the corner.

The tours almost over when Pete shows up. They have to borrow Nate's drum kit again when they five of them play for Pete. He bounces like a little kid, and it's kind of annoying but kind of really cute at the same time. Ashlee winks at him during "Carbonite Copy" and he laughs louder than she can sing.

"Welcome to the band Matt and welcome to my harem!" Pete spreads his arms to embrace Matt in a hug after their set. Matt stares at him until Pete backs down. Ashlee gives Pete a consolatory snuggle. He came with a small stack of paperwork - "FBR's gonna want this stuff asap" -and recording dates for their first album.

There's a celebratory party on the TAI bus. Matt is non-consensually cuddled by nearly every musician and tech on the tour, with Gabe and William Beckett going back for more in between dances. It's mostly the party goers who keep up the cuddle time, since Matt looks so incredibly uncomfortable. William eventually drop introducing everyone to Matt as "his wifey" and clings to him with Christine.

Pete's kind of ridiculous. He sweet talks the crowd, laughs with everyone, and flirts outrageously with the TAI bus driver, Cheryl. Ashlee can barely keep up with him, but she tries anyway because watching Pete Wentz do his thing is more fun than a bus full of Cobras. It puts off the inevitability of Pete turning his charm full throttle on her.

It takes him a few drinks to get there, but Pete does eventually straddle her on the couch. "We should totally cuddle, Princess. You aren't a member of this label til you've cuddled with me." Ashlee laughs but shakes her head.

She leans in close though to cup her hands around his ear. "Shh," she whispers. "Can't cuddle you 'cause you have cooties." Pete grabs her around the waist before she can move and places a large wet kiss on her cheek.

"Now you've got then too." She makes a face and squirms out of reach, wiping at her cheek with the sleeve of her hoodie.

"Damn it, no fair sharing your cooties!" This is the wrong thing to yell because suddenly, there's a small crowd of eye-linered youth crowding around Pete for cooties. He winks at Ashlee and starts to shimmy in the center of his crowd.

Ashlee finds herself next to Matt who looks confused as hell and well-rumpled, holding a slip of paper with an email scrawled on it. "Bus?" she offers.

"Get me away from Bill Beckett's wives before I break one," he says. He shoves the email in his pocket and follows her back to the Cobra bus.

"You can have my bunk tonight if you want," she says. Matt's been sleeping on the sofa in the front lounge. Matt nods.

Jamia told Ashlee that Matt's normally a loud-as-fuck douche bag, but in the time Ashlee's known him he's just been quiet and grumpy, like the seventh dwarf. It surprises her when Matt turns around at the edge of the bunk.

"It- It wasn't like this when I was touring with...with the other band," he says finally. "More drinking, less free love cuddle time. At least for me." He tenses, a dark edge in his eyes just daring Ashlee to pity him.

"Psshhh!" Ashlee says, batting a hand in the air. "Nothing is like touring with Cobra Starship. Gabe Saporta should come with warning labels."

Matt almost smiles back at her before he ducks into her bunk. Ashlee considers that a total win.

The rest of the tour slash song writing extravaganza goes really smoothly except for a few minor bumps after Pete leaves.

TAITV sneaks on to the Cobra bus in the dead of night and tries to kidnap Matt as a spoil of war, only to be sent packing by one very cranky drummer. The Butcher swears it was a draw, Matt swears they're a bunch of crazy fuckers. Gabe Saporta tries to organize a raiding party but there's only two days left so Vicky talks him out of it.

Matt still lets Christine Bandy drag him to William's parties. He just stands next to the booze with the two of them looking uncomfortable until he can escape, but he still shows up. It makes Jamia suspicious. "He used to disappear on them and come back drunk all the time," she insists. "What is he playing at?"

The other minor bump, is the explosion on their MySpace when they upload a couple songs and release their official line up. Ashlee wakes up one morning to a phone call from Pete asking her not to freak out and for the love of God, let no one in the band google their names for a couple days.

Ashlee gets out her MacBook and does just that. She can't help it, she has to know now that Pete's mentioned it.

Smack talking about how Vicky-T has no right to leave Cobra Starship. Same for Maja. A few positive comments about Jamia but just as many comments about how she's using her husband's fame to get into the industry. There's a bunch of vicious posts about Matt and how he's going to ruin the new band. She's horrified by how many posts insist there's no way it's her voice on the songs. She's surprised the comments still hurt her as badly as they first did right after it happens.

Ashlee closes her laptop and curls up in her bunk. Her father leaves eight messages on her phone and Pete's flooding her inbox and finally, finally she gets a call from Jess. She answers after the first ring.

"Hey, sis. You know you sound fantastic right?" Ashlee rolls her eyes and chuffs into the phone. Jessica's voice is really soothing. Even when Ashlee wanted to kill her for being Mom and Dad's favorite, she still ran to Jess when bad things happened on the playground.

"I know you and right now, you're probably freaking out about the haters, but seriously, did you even take the time to read any of the comments that weren't bitching you out? The fans really, really seem to like your band and you guys haven't even had any real press yet. Wait 'til Dad start- Okay, bad example because he's been throwing a non-stop hissy fit this whole time. Wait 'til your new label starts upping the ante, everyone's going to be raving about you."

"Shut up, Jess," she says. Ashlee smiles into the receiver. "How'm I gonna tell you about this trip if you keep talking?"

Partway through she figures out how much she misses Jess and their weekly phone calls. She makes plans for them to go shopping when the tour is over and to do a sleepover at Jessica's place. She hangs up feeling more like herself than ever, so she finds Gabe and the two of them fill every bunk on The Sounds' bus with silly string.

Jesper turns the funniest shade of purple when he's angry.

When the Suits and Snakes tour is over, Ashlee invites everyone to stay at her house during album recording. There's a month break in between the end of Maja's tour and when they are due in the studio. Ashlee figures the time will fly by crazy fast but in reality it drags.

Maja sends picture texts of The Sounds' tour and Vicky writes hilarious emails about her tour ex-boyfriends. Victoria's habit of picking boys for the length of a tour isn't uncommon, but the wear and tear she gets out of them is pretty hilarious. Gabe and Nate still talk in hushed tones about the time with Jeff the drum tech but no one ever gives Ashlee the details of what exactly happened. Jamia mostly calls her at weird hours in the morning and uses colorful language to describe the bands she's scouting.

Ashlee spends the time texting Pete about how bored she is and stalking MySpace. There's only so many times she can go shopping with her sister before she wants to shoot herself. She goes out dancing a couple times with a few other friend-acquaintances on the celebrity circuit but it's pretty boring after Snuggle Happy Fun Time on the TAI bus. She even does a couple discreet one night stands just to pass the time, but sneaking out of sketchy apartments is not as fun as it used to be.

That's why she's almost kind of pleased that an unexpected visitor starts banging on her door in the middle of the night. Well, not really, because she's in the middle of a Friday the 13th marathon and wearing fuzzy kitten pajamas, but at least it's something different.

Ashlee knows she's excitable. That's why she grabs a kitchen knife instead of the shotgun Dad gave her for her fifteenth. She doesn't get a warning from her security team and Jess never said anything about dropping by, so she's almost completely convinced herself that whoever is at the door is there for nefarious purposes.

She looks through the peephole but all she sees is a tall looming figure in a hoodie.

She puts one hand over her alarm system, thumb over the panic button and yells through the door, "Just so you know, I am a Kung Fu master!"

"What the hell! Ashlee, it's me, Matt! It's pouring out here, Ash. Don't feed me a bunch of Kung Fu bullshit," Ashlee puts the knife down on the hall table and opens the door, hugging Matt in the middle of his angry grumbling. He doesn't even try to fend her off, he just picks up her up and walks into the hall.

Ashlee's pajamas are soaked all down the front from where she squeezes Matt. She makes a face when he sets her down and goes to her linen closet to fetch him so dry towels. She takes a proper look at him while he rubs his hair dry.

Matt's has the same threadbare duffel bag he had with him when they first met. A few patches sew on in different spots. There's one patch that's been painted over, a splotch of brown on what would otherwise be a punked out duffel Ashlee would love to have. She'd bet anything it used to say My Chemical Romance in spikey letters. She doesn't have the nerve to ask though. All she can manage to say is, "Want a snack?"

He shrugs, which Ashlee has learned can mean anything from Hell, yeah to fuck off and die. Right now, it means, Yes, god, yes! Feed me for I am a starving ninja man who drips in the night. Or something like that.

She shows him where the kitchen is and watches him scavenge for edible food. Ashlee doesn't cook much for herself. All she has is a fridge full of condiments and take out boxes. Matt manages to eat all of her scraps, including some questionable cheese in her store cupboards, a forgotten box of captain crunch, and all three bottles of Tabasco.

Ashlee takes it all in with round, awed eyes and texts Pete about every bizarre thing he eats.

TABASCO! THREE! STRAIGHT FROM THE BOTTLE OMG!

mayb ur drummer is an alien i saw roswell u should check

"Matt, are you an alien?" Matt shrugs. Ashlee doesn't know how to translate that one.

She takes another tack. "So, what are you doing here in the middle of the night you crazy person? And how did you get past my security?"

Matt puts down the jar of pasta sauce and shifts his from side to side.

Ashlee interjects quickly before he makes a run for it. "Not that I don't want you around!" she add hurriedly. "I just wasn't prepared for people to show up yet. I haven't even bought groceries, you know?"

He deflates at the edges, letting go of his spoon to run his hands through his hair. He doesn't look at her when he speaks. "Before we split, I was going to ask Brian, our manager, to help me buy a house for me and my girlfriend Caroline. Thought I was gonna propose. When they," his voice dips lower and comes out rougher. "...when they fired me, I lost everything. I can't even go home." He puts the jar on the counter and stares at his hands.

Ashlee slips next to him and wraps her arm around his. "I keep the ice cream in the deep freezer. It's in the garage." Ashlee has always had a soft spoke from people as broken as she is.

Matt looks at her with bewilderment and a touch of relief. Ashlee just pats him on the arm. "This situation clearly calls for ice cream and a Gilmore Girls marathon. It's my sacred duty as your friend and as a female person to provide you with these things. Pinky swear not to tell the girls."

He cocks an eyebrow and actually smiles. It's small, crooked at the edges and a little tarnished but Ashlee makes it a personal mission to make at happen more often. He sticks out his pinky and Ashlee solemnly crosses with hers. Deal.

That's how she ends up redoing his toenail polish and he braids her hair while Paris Geller has a spaz attack on TV. "So, why can't you go home?" Ashlee asks quietly.

Matt's hands still in her hair. She can't see him from where she's sitting on the floor but she can imagine him expression. Barely contained anger like whenever they ask him about anything from before.

"My mom passed away when I was a kid. The Way's were my foster parents until Don and Donna got divorced. Divorced couples can't be foster parents."

Ashlee turns around slowly, folding her arms over his knees. She's never seen Matt this close to crying before, this defeated.

"I was with them for six years before I got relocated during high school. Gee and Mikey were like my brothers by then, they stuck with me when Child Services moved me to another house. She's still my mom, she'll always be Mama Way, but I can't see them after-" His voice cracks off.

Ashlee crawls up next to him on the couch. "Siblings just suck. Once, a guy Jessica liked smack talked my voice to his friends. I used to strip naked and play the guitar to piss her off when I was twelve. She filled my acoustic with hot glue to ruin the sound and convinced my parents I did it to make them buy me an electric. I stuck gum in her shampoo so she'd think she fell asleep chewing it. She had to cut off seven inches and get hair extensions."

Matt snorts, "Oh yeah? Once Donna left us the car while she went out of town. The morning Mama Way gets back, we go to the breakfast table and there's like a dozen used condoms. Two of them were mine so the others had to be Mikey's. She makes us all sit down and she gives this speech about how we all shouldn't be having sex, especially not in her car, and, she stares at Gee the whole time she says this next bit, considering the evidence she would like to say that she's really open minded and would love to have an excuse to join PFLAG, so if there's anything anyone would like to say about orientation, she loves all her boys equally, no matter their sexual preferences Gerard."

Ashlee lets out a delighted shriek, "No way!"

A smile tugs at the corner of Matt's lip. "Mikey looked liked he wanted to sink into the floor and die. Gee just stared at her with his mouth open. When Gerard didn't say anything she grounded all of us and left the condoms on the table. I mean, I was pretty freaked, but Gee would not stop harping about me being the gay school slut and letting him take the blame for it."

"What'd you do?" Ashlee asks.

"What'd you think I did? I took the blame for Mikey with Gee, just like Gee took the blame for me and Mikey with Mama. Next time Mama went out of town, I got everyone to give me their used condoms and stuck them in his dirty laundry pile. She flipped at him for not coming out when she came home. I'm pretty sure she thinks Frank is her son-in-law." The happy look he has while telling the story is almost instantly replaced by the familiar fury Ashlee's used to associating with his reminiscing. "I can't go back now."

"You can have my home," Ashlee offers, then regrets almost instantly. Insensitive much? "It's just me and the security team but this place is huge and I barely use it."

"Don't you live here year round?" The tensions just starting to drain out of his shoulders again. Ashlee beams at him.

"Only when I'm not touring!" She hasn't toured, not really. Not like the Snakes and Suits tour, with friends and techs and family.

Matt rolls his eyes, "Scrawny ass on the floor please, I have work to finish."

"Where'd you learn to braid? I never learned but Lorelei taught Rory." Ashlee turns up the volume with the remote before she gets back between Matt's legs, facing the television.

She can feel Matt's shrug through his hands on her hair. "Gerard."

She ends up falling asleep curled up on the couch with Matt stretched out on the ground like a bear rug. She gets woken up by Ginger ringing her door frantically because Ashlee is already twenty minutes late to meeting with a couple producers about the state of her new solo album. She has to run back into the house to fetch her guitar, and when she does, she leaves her phone on the table.

When she gets back to the house, she finds Maja making soup from scratch in her kitchen.

"Eeeee!" She throws her arms around Maja who hugs back just as vigorous as Ashlee is. Maja looks and smells fantastic. Like a spring meadow instead of reeking like unwashed teen boy. Ashlee feels something heavy against her back. It's Matt and he's wrapped around both of them.

"Three way hug!" cheers Ashlee. She gives Maja an Eskimo kiss. The two of them try to give Matt a three way kiss, but he grumbles at the back of his throat when they try and it makes them dissolve into giggles.

Maja explains that her girlfriend lives in the area - Ashlee blinks- so she thought she'd drop in on Ashlee. She hadn't expected Matt to be the one to have security let her in! "I also brought groceries just in case," Maja adds.

"Marry me," Ashlee says earnestly. Maja lets out a peel of laughter.

"You are too precious. Victoria's going to be here soon. Cobra just finished filming a music video."

Ashlee pumps her fist into the air, "Yes!" Vicky-T makes it officially a party.

Over the next couple days Ashlee discovers how freakishly domestic her band is.

Maja shows up when her girlfriend's at work to cook them real food while wearing an apron. It's the apron that weirds out Ashlee the most. Maja's the most earnest person Ashlee knows, except for where her girlfriend is concern. Maja is downright vicious about keeping her private life separate from her career. The only person in The Sounds that's even seen the mystery girlfriend is Jesper and apparently he's sworn to secrecy. Ashlee doesn't even know what Frieda looks like, for all that Maja's hopelessly in love with her. Sometimes, she's convinced the girl is a figment of Maja's imagination.

Matt showers two or three times a day and he has a drum kit delivered to the house. It gets set up in Ashlee's practice room, squeezed into a corner next to her guitar rack. She knows that Bob Bryar ended up with Matt's drum kit from a truth or dare game on the TAI bus. She doesn't know what she would do if someone took Snoopy, her first Acoustic guitar, away from her. She doesn't bring it up again to Matt, but she does send Pete a text about it.

mcr has mattie's drum kit. can you ask mikey to give it back?

bbryar put it in storage whn he got his kit on tour. ill track it dwn.

3 thnx dorkface. ur my favorite!

king dorkface, princess. patricks my queen.

Ashlee wakes up one morning to the sound of a wildebeest. At first she thinks Matt left Planet Earth playing on the TV but then she hears Maja scream. It's enough to send Ashlee running down the stairs as fast as she can.

There, squished underneath her favorite manbearpig and Maja is Vicky-T Asher in a slinky sun dress and a bag still tagged from LAX. "VICTORIA! You're here!" Ashlee opens her arms as wide as she can manage. Only her right hand managed to even touch Vicky but she's got arms full of Maja and Matt.

"Eskimo kisses for everyone!" Maja laughs but goes along with Ashlee's plans for Eskimo style cuteness. Even Matt gets into the spirit, rumbling a little and standing still so the girls can brush noses.

"Do I get a couch or do I have to use some Cobra powers?" Vicky looks fantastic, like Jersey really agrees with her, which is strange because Ashlee can't imagine anything agreeing with Jersey.

"Jamia's coming soon," Matt reminds them later when they've settled into the second guest room, AKA Vicky's luxury resort stay at the Simpson house. The first thing Vicky unpacks is her computer and doesn't look up from the monitor once she presses power. Maja's sitting on the bed next to her, giving her a non-stop commentary on the week so far.

"Yeah?" Ashlee beams at him. Once Jamia got over her initial suspicions about Matt, the two of them were thick as thieves. In fact, ever since they hung out together, or as Ashlee likes to think of it, bonded through the primal power of television for women, he's been talking to them more and more.

It's kind of funny because he's such a dick all the time, but with their bandmates, Ashlee's noticed that he's more careful about his words. She doesn't know if she should punch him for treating them differently or hug him because he's still pretty fucked up from My Chem. Now that she's actually in a band, just the thought of a break up makes her want to grab Pete for a can't imagine how it would feel if she lost Jessica's support too.

"She called to warn me she's bringing Frank," Vicky says without looking up from her computer.

Matt scowls at the mention. "I won't say anything if he doesn't say anything." Ashlee pats him on the knee.

"If it's really shitty, we can always watch Gil-Tranformers! Yeah, uh, Transformers or go see monster trucks of WWE or something." Ashlee sounds so strange, Vicky and Maya actually turn to look at her for a moment. Matt doubles over in laughter and she can feel her face heat up.

She texts Pete. What does fob do when one of u guys need cheering up?

Porn or scrabble. If its bad we eat ice crm n watch lifetime

scrabble?

Joe is deadly with the triple lttr word scores.

Jamia lets herself in when she arrives. Ashlee's warned her security about the girls showing up so she totally misses the whole part where everyone has a group nuzzle. When Ashlee still wearing a towel in her hair when she hurries down the stairs. She stopped to put on some clothes. Frank's changed his hair again and so has Jamia.

"You make an awesome blond!" Ashlee tells her, smiling. With her head tucked over Jamia's shoulder, Ashlee can see Frank glaring at Matt, Maja glaring at Frank, and Vicky and Matt pretending Frank isn't in the room at all. Awkward.

"Right! Proper introductions now," Jamia says when she pulls away. "Frank, this is Ashlee, she's our singer. You know Vicky. You've toured with Maja before – Warped I think." She pointedly doesn't mention Matt. It doesn't make any difference.

Ashlee dives in for a quick hug with Frank and Jamia. Frank manages an awkward wave to them. Vicky's the only one who returns it. Ashlee gives him her reporter smile. He jiggles his leg and announces to the air, "I'm taking the taxi back to the hotel room."

Jamia swears and follows him out the front door. Ashlee can hear them arguing through the door because of the prevailing silence that the two of them leave in their wake.

"I don't know about you guys," Vicky says. "But I'm going up to the studio."

Everyone rushes upstairs behind her. Ashlee has to lean back and hold the railing during the rush so one of Maja's heels won't kick her eye out. When they reach for their instruments, they dawdle over tuning so they don't have to 'wait' for Jamia when she comes up. The studio overlooks the front lawn so with the window open, everyone can easily over hear Frank insist Jamia should convince the others to get rid of Matt.

Ashlee looks over at him. His hands clutch the drumsticks together. Matt's shoulders are shaking at the edges in his rage. Ashlee leans into the space he's staring into and makes a face. She sticks her tongue out and pulls the edges of her eyes until his lips start twitching into a smile.

Franks voice yells something unintelligible and the sound of a car door slamming shut floats in through the window. Ashlee freezes mid tongue wriggle. Matt tenses again at the edge, going to grab another set of drum sticks. Vicky tosses Maja a packet of guitar strings. Maja turns to argue but Vicky shakes her head slightly. "Trust me on this one," Vicky says while she checks her battery power.

The door opens to the studio. Ashlee's never seen Jamia this red faced and flustered. Ashlee opens her mouth to say something but Jamia cuts her off. "Don't," she says. "Don't even fucking think about saying anything about Frank being a dick because you guys were assholes too. The only one who has any kind of right to be pissed is Matt but we are fucking adults. Ashlee, so help me God, if you don't get that creepy fake smile off your face I will slap it off. We should work on Inside Man, I feel like shredding."

Ashlee stops smiling and reaches for her acoustic.

It's terrible. Matt actually sends one of his drum stick flying during his warm up, hitting Maja on the back shoulder. Maja plays little too slow. Jamia plays fast and hard, breaking one of her strings halfway through Inside Man and another during Zero Kelvin. It's a complete disaster that has Jamia angrily correcting their mistakes after each rendition, saying the cruelest things aloud about her own playing.

Ashlee forgets the lyrics she's written half way through "Oh Darling Day," and sings something totally different in frustration. Instead of stopping, Matt adjusts the beat. When they finish, Vicky grabs Ashlee by the shoulders. "Can you remember what you just sang?"

Ashlee shakes her head and scrambles for one of the sheet music pads she keeps in the corner, scribbling down the words to a changed song. Maja takes it from her and starts writing chords in short hand. Vicky add her own changes in the margins while Maja writes. Jamia takes the paper when they finish and starts making her own notations.

They end up changing the title and two thirds of the song from "Oh Darling Day" to "Day that Ends in Y." Vicky sets up her computer to record video of them once they've worked out the logistics of the song. Ashlee talks her into sending the clip to Pete.

She gets a text from him that night around three in the morning. b there soon. brngng lunchbox. She sleeps easy once she's heard from him. She can't sleep until she's had her daily dose of Pete.

This time she could have sworn she'd be ready. She knows the time Patrick and Pete were going to show, she tipped off security, and she clears her schedule. Ashlee calls Dad to warn him she'd be busy producing the album over the next couple weeks, she reminds Jessica not to drop by because they are going to be recording, and then she goes out and buys all the vegetarian food she can find at the store. Jamia buys her own vegan snacks and leaves them in the cupboards but Ashlee remembers Nate bitching about Pete eating all their hummus whenever he shows up so she wants to be prepared.

She's having her purchases wrung up when her phone beeps. It's a picture text from Maja that shows Pete and Patrick looking at the instruments her studio room. Ashlee pulls her hoodie lower on her face and calls Pete.

"I thought you said you weren't coming until tomorrow." The check out counter girl glowers at her. Ashlee's always hated the way no matter how successful you live your life, the cashier will never give you anything over than disdain.

"Couldn't wait, princess. I bought one of those maps to the stars homes to find you. Your address is only twenty five dollars at the airport, but it's thirty on Fifth and Newport. What's up with that?"

Ashlee can picture his stupid donkey teeth smile on the other side of the phone. "I would have given you a ride. Kevin Sorbo has the best limo hook up." She wants to yell at him for letting himself into her house but by now she knows there's no point. He'd just make a point of doing it every time to drive her crazy.

Pete's voice is still cheery on the other end, "But if you gave me a ride, I wouldn't have been able to find TMZ and pants their camera guy. Hey, can I touch your Gisbon?"

Ashlee hangs up. If he's asking, that means he's already fonding her guitar and she is not leaving him alone with her guitars. She pays for the groceries in cash and has a bodyguard help her carry the food out to the car.

Vicky and Maja hooking up the electrical equipment when she gets up to the studio. There's a couple of unfamiliar guitar cases under the window. Pete's talking seriously to Jamia in the corner. Jamia looks relieved to see Ashlee and calls to her. "Welcome home!"

Pete takes the moment to throw himself at her and curl around her body like a lemur. Ashlee sputters a little. The movement sends hair flying into her mouth, but she hugs back just as enthusiastically and doesn't even punch him when he sneaks in a small grope.

Patrick looks a lot different in person than in pictures texted to her phone. He's shorter than she thought, his hair blonder, his lips fuller, and his eyes are kinder than she ever imagined. She can't begin to imagine how different Joe and Andy must look like in person, if the difference between 2D Patrick and real Patrick is this wide.

Patrick's situated himself at Matt's drum kit. Matt looks at her helplessly, eyes darting to Patrick at his kit. Ashlee winces. Matt's never really stopped being territorial about his drums after Bob Bryar. He has no qualms telling the girls to step the fuck away from his drums, but he knows better than to snap at Patrick.

Patrick turns to her, bright blue eyes and smiles once he notices where Matt is staring. "Hi, nice to finally meet you face to face. Pete told you I'd be producing for you guys, right?" He sounds nervous so Ashlee cuts him a break.

"Nice to meet you, Patrick. You guys want something to eat?" She has 20 pounds worth of Morningstar in the refrigerator that she knows she'll never eat.

Pete grins up at her. "Lunchbox here just wants to get started."

Maya looks at them skeptically. "Here?"

Patrick nods authoritatively, "Yeah. I want to get a feel for your music and see what changes should be made before we go into the studio. If you guys could play through your set list first, we can work on the songs individually after that."

Ashlee is so not prepared for this and by the mildly irritated looks from Maja and Jamia's arched eye brows, the rest of them aren't either. Matt doesn't say a word, he just walks out of the room with his sticks in hand, grabbing Ashlee by the elbow.

"You said they'd get here tomorrow," he says in a lowered voice. Ashlee jerks her arm out of his grasp. "Yeah," she snaps. "Because that's what Pete told me."

"If it helps, Pete also told me it would be tomorrow before he dragged me on a plane, put me in a taxi and brought me here and told me to do my thing," Patrick says, leaning out of the doorway. "I could come back tomorrow..." His voice trails off right around the time Matt starts glaring at him.

"Now is fine," Vicky's voice interjects from inside the room. "We just need a couple seconds to rearrange our schedules."

Ashlee can hear Maja talking rapidly in Swedish with Frieda on the phone. Jamia's voice is tracked right over that, a voicemail left on Frank's phone letting him know she's be late to the hotel. She doesn't have anyone to call herself since she already cleared out the day with Ginger for cleaning.

Ashlee has to practically shove Matt back into the room to get started. Jamia takes one good look at him and hangs up. "I'll grab your spare sticks from your room." Matt nods, slipping his purple sparkle drum sticks in his pockets.

Ashlee hooks up her guitar and her mic stand while Vicky tries distracting Matt with every Two Girls One Cup joke she can think of. Pete sort of hovers around Ashlee the whole time. "Dude, I'm sorry. I didn't think one day would be that big of a deal. We cool?"

Ashlee doesn't feel like dealing with it so she gives him her reporter smile. "Okay," Pete says wincing. "I can see I have a lot of groveling to do."

They start with "1776" and "Gender Schmender" to warm up. Ashlee slips out of get bottles of water for her, Maja and Vicky. Then they do "Heartbreaker," "Zero Kelvin," and "Day That Ends In Y" without stopping between songs. It's bizarre doing their set for an audience because Pete is a bouncing overexcited puppy that Ashlee can't help but put on a show for, and Patrick...

Patrick is focused. He's watching all of them at once and there are moments when his hands twitch along to the music. He takes notes when they pause between songs. Vicky shamelessly tries to read over the words while she plays. Patrick only notices when she steps on his foot. On the bright side, she doesn't miss any notes. Ashlee's too nervous to try to see what he says but admires Vicky's balls for trying.

The rest of the songs go really quickly once Ashlee's gotten used to having Pete and Patrick to watch them. The whole thing is a little over an hour from start to finish. The band looks at Patrick and Pete expectantly as they finish out the last harmonies on Necromiconventional.

"Holy shit, you guys! That was fucking awesome!" cheered Pete. "Way better live and you guys are pretty awesome in your rough demo." He starts doing this twisty little celebratory dance. Ashlee smiles and joins him. She shimmies to the beat of "Rosemary's Teenager" in her head and laughs when she hears Jamia groan.

"Dance party!" Vicky joins in laughing and after a moment of hesitation so does Maja. Ashlee's sees Matt and Patrick out of the corner of her eyes, staring with them fond exasperation. "Mattie! You have to dance too!"

Matt does the Egyptian and then laughs. Ashlee stops dancing long enough to beam at him before going back to grinding against Maja. Ashlee loves grinding with Maja because Maja grinds like she was taught by cheerleadings moonlighting as dirty hookers.

"Okay, you guys have some pretty amazing music for me to work with, but I still have some ideas that will really clear up your sound," Patrick says one the dancing dies down.

Ashlee flinches a little because she knows those words. Those are the words that mean, we're going to spend the next few weeks working you to exhaustion and afterwords, you're going to thank me. She would have never guessed by looking at him that Patrick Stumph would be one of those producers. She's already dreading their studio work.

Surprisingly, it's not Ashlee who has the worst time of it. Except for the occasional bitching out because she's still "putting too much pop, sing it again" and some key changes, she gets off pretty light.

It's Matt who gets the worst of it. They all learn very quickly that week that Matt is almost completely unable to separate his emotions from his stage performance. When he's happy, he sounds fantastic but the minute his emotions go south, he starts missing beats and having trouble keeping time. Patrick really rides him on it when he starts dropping beats in the middle of a song. That only makes Matt mess up worse which make Patrick rant and...well, it's a vicious cycle and Ashlee can only buy so much Tabasco.

The closer they get to their recording dates, the stormier Pete and Patrick get when the subject of Matt comes up. "So, uh, how attached is the band to Matt?" Pete asks her nervously one day. Ashlee considers throwing her water bottle at his head and but stops herself. "Very." She crosses her arms and glares at him.

Pete pats the couch space next to him for her to sit down. She bits her lip to keep from exploding at Pete for even thinking about asking the question but she knows he has to. "So like, what's his deal? Is he having a rough time right now? Does he have trouble performing in front of people?' Pete asks. "Cause he sounded good in the demos and I've seen him do these songs perfectly before." He sighs, running his hand through his hair. At this range, Ashlee can see the bags under his eyes under the smeared eyeliner.

"It's Patrick," Ashlee says finally. "Ever since Matt's drums were 'lost in storage', he's gone little ballistic when someone touches his kit. He can't play when he's like, imploding emotionally and he's not going to yell at Patrick because he respects the guy too much." She sighs. "Total lose/lose situation."

Pete taps her on the knee. "If it's just emotional crazy, I think I've got a solution, Princess. Sisky Biz solved that problem ages ago for The Butcher."

He buys Matt an inflatable punching bag. It's shaped like a person and has a little plastic slide in slot in front of the face. "So you can slide in the picture of the person you want to punch the most!" Pete tells Matt excitedly when he sets up the dummy in Matt's room.

Matt kind of stares at Pete like he's a fungal growth that started speaking. Ashlee elbows him in the ribs. "Thanks Pete, he really appreciates it. He's just really over come with joy right now to say thank you." He hits him in the ribs over and over again through the speech.

Matt catches her elbow when she goes for one more hard dig. "Okay, ow, I get the fucking massage. Thanks Pete. I need to borrow your Polaroid camera."

It works really, fucking, great. Ashlee doesn't go into his room to see if the dummy has a picture of Patrick's face, but for the rest of their pre-studio time, Matt's easy going enough that Vicky checks his room to see if Gabe's been slipping him tranqs on the sly.

She does laugh hysterically when Matt takes a picture of Frank dropping off Jamia. Sure she saw it coming but that doesn't make it any less hilarious. Jamia is less than pleased.

The studio time goes really fast. They spend a little over a week actually laying down the tracks since most of the details are worked out before hand. They hear the final versions of the songs in the studio.

Ashlee is amazed that her voice sounds like...like her voice. Not like mixing or filtering or dub layering. It's her, and Vicky and Maja intertwining. Jamia's bass and Matt's drums are the pulse of their music. It's so different from anything she's done but it's beautiful and it's perfect and it's fucking theirs.

The five of them end up in some ridiculous tangle as they all try to congratulate each other. Jamia high fives everything that moves, Ashlee starts dancing, Vicky hands out Eskimo kisses, Matt is bear hugs everyone in arms reach, and Maja tries to do all of it at once.

Matt even hugs Frank who looks traumatized when it's over.

Ashlee rubs noses with Patrick first, who looks just as excited as the rest of them. Then she finds herself standing in front of Pete.

She can't help it, she beams at him like he's Christmas come early because he kind of is.

"Aren't you glad you met me?" Pete leans in close, eyes half shut and presses his nose against hers slowly. Ashlee feels her pulse race. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm glad I met Lunchbox," she says.

He laughs with his forehead pressed against hers and she can smell garlic and onion on his breath and she thinks-fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Of course now is the moment she figures out that she has the most ridiculous crush on the most ridiculous man she's ever met.

Pete pulls away before she can work herself into a panic and dives for Matt. "I want my Eskimo kisses! Gimme, Mattie," he yells as he tries to scale Matt's back.

There's still interviews and promotions and tours to do and Ashlee knows she's going to be seeing Pete non-stop the whole time. Non stop with her stupid, ridiculous crush.

"This is the beginning of a disaster," she says to no one in particular.

Maja is the only one who seems to hear what Ashlee says. She ruffles Ashlee's hair with affection and smiles, "Yes, but what a beautiful disaster."

"Okay, did you pick a name for the band yet?" Patrick asks. "We do need to mention your band name in promo ads for 'Red Suede Shoes'."

Everyone's celebrating slowly comes to a stop. "Motherfucker," yells Jamia. "We forgot the fucking band name." Ashlee buries her head in her hands. Disaster the size of Pompeii.