Michelle, needless to say, was fixing all of the little hairs and making sure everything was in place before she even set foot on the stage of Café Huh? Ever since Sadie signed on with her own record label, she didn't have time for small gigs like the café. This left time when there was not entertainment; there were very few applicants since Sadie's shows had been late at night. Michelle auditioned and got the allotted time.

Michelle was now pulling herself from the mirror. The other members in the band – which, unfortunately, happened to be four males – were getting impatient. They needed the money more than Michelle, and they couldn't afford to miss time where they were getting paid.

"Good God, guys! I'm sorry I feel the need to be pampered," Michelle huffed, narrowing her eyes at them. They pushed her towards the entrance of the stage, much to her displeasure. "My feet function perfectly, thanks!"

"Normal people wouldn't think so if they saw how slowly your legs moved," snapped a lanky male with shaggy, knotted blonde hair. His dark blue eyes were almost hidden in his thick locks. The other three snickered, leaving Michelle angrier than ever.

"You're lucky you even have a lead." Those were Michelle's last words before she took her rightful spot in front of the microphone. She seemed to put on a mask: her infuriated side was completely gone, replaced with a sweet, smiling girl.

Michelle came off the stage snorting with laughter. "We practically had them eating out of our hands," she said. They each nodded, leaving for the men's dressing room. Michelle was left to her duties: she had to clean up any mess she made so the next showgirl didn't have to deal with Michelle's unholy ransack.

There was very little to clean up. There was tidbits of makeup, Michelle's brush (which hardly counted as a brush since the handle was missing), and music sheets. The sheets were Michelle's pathetic attempts at writing a nice harmony for the band to pick up. But something was always wrong that couldn't be placed.

"Michelle?" came a husky voice from the doorway. Michelle had been throwing away wipes she had used to pick up loose foundation from the vanity set. She nearly jumped through the roof, but she ended up facing her drummer.

"Yeah?" she mumbled, resting her hand over her heart as if it would settle it. The drummer merely chuckled before continuing.

"You need a ride?" he asked. Michelle had become accustomed to this question since he was the only band member that had a car. But he had spent the only money he had on it (gas, fix-ups, etc.); so, in other words, he was flat-out broke.

"'Course I do. When don't I?" Michelle said flatly. She grabbed up her bag, pushing her makeup into it.

"You didn't need one the other night when that Carrigan guy showed up," Drummer Boy replied. He wiggled his eyebrows and watched the color rise to Michelle's cheeks. He patted his drumsticks rhythmically against his pant leg as he waited for Michelle.

"So? It was one night," Michelle said as smoothly as possible.

"And did you spend the night with him?"

"I don't see how that concerns you. It's none of your business who I'm seeing… and who I'm not."

Michelle hoisted her bag up on her shoulder and followed the drummer through the exit. They met up with the three other members; they stood shivering under their coats beside the car. "Could you be any slower, Michelle?" the blonde teased.

"I could. Would you like to see me try, Desmond?" Michelle said sarcastically. She smirked and pulled her jacket a little closer to her body. The winter of 1969 was not brutal, but it was sure cold. They had seen much worse.

"Not particularly…" Desmond muttered.

The sky overhead was dark and dreary. There were several clouds, dropping layers of snow onto New York. The snow seemed to be the only thing in sight that was actually bright… in a color sense, anyhow. Nobody seemed to really want the snow, slush, and ice the winter was so willingly giving the poor residents of the city that never sleeps. After a warm summer and fall, all of this seemed to chill everyone to the bone.

"And where will I have the honor of dropping off Miss Michelle tonight?" the drummer asked as everyone had settled into the car. Michelle had taken the front passenger seat.

"Drop her off in the streets, Bill," said Desmond. All of this was routine; it didn't tick off Michelle any more.

"I'll be going to Jude's again," Michelle said. Jude had shacked up with Lucy again after the rooftop concert, but Max had also found room for himself in there somehow. But, of course, Michelle had failed to mention that to the others.

"Do you have something with him too?" asked the middle of the backseat inhabitant. Michelle shook her head and glared at him.

"Do I seem like that kind of girl to you? Well, I'm not," Michelle said curtly, turning to face the road again. The questioner shook his head, his large, dark hair bouncing about. Michelle didn't see this. She wrapped her arms tightly around her bag. She thought if that was really the impression she gave off when she told everyone that she was living with a man, but going home with another. This thought carried with her until the car stopped.

Michelle got out, but poked her head back into the car before shutting the door. "See you guys on Monday," she said before she blew them all a kiss. The African-American in the middle of the backseat waved the kiss away. Desmond, who was on his right, caught it. Bill showed no reaction, and the guitarist sitting behind him did the same.

"See ya," Bill called as Michelle was shutting the door. She smiled weakly at him before bouncing to the front door and running in.

"Guys?" she called through the house. The three broken replies came from the sitting room where a television set was put on a low volume. Michelle came into the room, her curls leaping around her face. They smiled at her, tearing their gaze away from the set.

"How was it?" Jude asked, draping his arm around Lucy's shoulders.

Michelle shrugged. "Same as always, I suppose."

Mac could not help but grin at Michelle. "So you pissed off the guys before and after the show?" Jude was also grinning, but Lucy was trying to keep a straight face.

"You know it," Michelle answered, smiling mischievously.