A/N: I started writing this forever ago and wasn't ever planning on posting it, but at the insistence of my friend Laura (who's stories Write Your Own Song and Chocolate Milk & Cigarettes rock btw, go check them out!) I'm allowing it to see the light of day lol. Tell me what you think and thanks for reading :)

-Rachel

Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim to own anything associated with the Four Brothers Franchise. All rights reserved to David Elliot, Paul Lovetti and Paramount Pictures. I also do not own nor claim to own the song 'Bright Lights'. All rights reserved to Matchbox Twenty.


Chapter One: Etiquette and Arrogance

He got outta town, on a railway New York bound
Maybe you'll find something that's enough to keep you
Let that city take you in, let that city take you down
-'Bright Lights' by Matchbox Twenty

"Oh God Bradley, you can't be serious." I whined, as my boss (and older cousin) pointed at my first assignment as a talent manager for the label we both worked for, Hail Mary Records. The band on the other side of his blinds was seated and throwing M&Ms at each other across a buffered and waxed oak table, laughing in the conference room beside Bradley's office.

"This is your first band!" He laughed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Don't go thinking you're above it all so soon."

"Why, why, why did the label decide to give me the emo kids?" And they were. Skinny, dressed in dark clothing, messy haired, carrying around more ink than a squid with all their tattoos. Thinking back, I tried to remember an event or party I'd screwed up on, some shred of evidence that would explain being condemned this way.

"Come on, if anyone can turn them into rock stars, it's my little cousin." Bradley insisted, perfect patience on his tongue. "They're good Dani, just give it a try."

"Every band we sign is good, that's the whole reason we sign them." I grumbled, annoyed that he thought stroking my ego would make this any more bearable. I could see the next year of my life broken down clearly. It wouldn't be spent managing a band so much as it would be babysitting a bunch of hormonal, society drop-outs. Not exactly what had I gotten my degree for.

"You know what I mean." He sighed, pulling out all the textbook promises to ease my anxiety. "They're more than good, they're meant to be here. You'll be thanking us before they even finish their first tour."

"Hmph, don't hold your breath." I murmured following a small sound of indignation as I gathered my leather-bound legal pad and purse. Shaking his head, Bradley opened the door to his office, holding it for me as he smirked.

"Come on Little Miss Perfect, let's go meet the newest members of the family."

"Where did the label get the money to start adopting foster kids?"

"Try and leave that joke out of the meeting. Half of these kids were in foster care at some point or another."

"Fucking beautiful, I get the delinquents. Bradley, I'm telling you…" My threats had to wait however as we'd already reached the conference room and the door swung open just as I was in the middle of my angry mumble. On the other side stood one of the band members, staring down at me with big blue eyes as he held the door.

"Thank you." I forced myself to murmur as I walked past him, ever so slightly shaken with surprise. Delinquents with manners? Weird.

"Alright boys, thanks for coming down on such short notice. We'll try not to keep you too long." Brad addressed the kids as I took my place sitting beside him at the head of the table.

"No worries Mr. Sinclair, the parties can't start 'til we get there anyway." One of the boys smirked, eliciting chuckles from the rest of the room. Oppressing the urge to roll my eyes, I shifted them around the table instead and tried to get a reading on each of the kids I'd be babysitting for the next year or so.

There were only three of them which I thanked God for about a hundred times before the end of the day. From left to right we had Mr. Etiquette who'd opened the door for me, Mr. Arrogant who had made the party comment and another carbon copy of the first two, only the slightest bit more reserved. Despite uncountable numbers of tattoos, piercing and jewelry, I could already see an easy marketing campaign in their good looks. All three had strong frames, worked the alternative look well and were at that perfect age between being boys and men that made young girls swoon- and more importantly spend money.

"Heh, well lets not keep the good people waiting." Chuckling softly at their joke, my cousin laid a hand on my shoulder in way of presentation. "We called you here today to introduce you to your new manager, Danielle Kelly."

"S'nice to meet you boys." Pushing back my chair, I leaned across the table to shake hands with each one of them before passing out slim packets of paper filled with small print. "This is a meeting schedule for the next week to help us get acclimated to one another, help me assess your goals, work out individual contracts with your agent, all that fun stuff. Try to stay on top of it because although it is my job to set your schedule, it is not my job to help you keep that schedule. You're professionals now boys, I hope you're prepared to act like it."

An awkward silence fell over the room as the boys exchanged glances with each other, suddenly a lot less excited than when they had walked in.

"Er, this is Danielle's first assignment, so you can forgive her if she seems a little…eager." Cutting me a disapproving look, my cousin tried as hard as he could to cover my ass. I may have never actually managed a band on my own before but I knew the ins and outs of this business by heart. I knew way too many musicians walked through record company doors expecting money and fame to be handed to them on silver platters. I just wanted the boys to know that the world would be handing them nothing easily, and neither would I.

"Wait, you mean we're her guinea pigs?" Mr. Arrogant blurted out, looking up from the packet I'd passed out with stunned eyes. Who the hell did this guy think he was? God, if I wasn't related to Bradley…

"Technically yes, but"-

"But I have a degree in talent management that I earned in L.A. and I've apprenticed under other managers at Hail Mary for a little over a year. I know what I'm doing gentlemen, if I were you it would be your own careers I'd worry about."

To his right, Mr. Etiquette fought an amused smile in vain, looking down at his packet but clearly doing more listening than reading. Pursing his lips, Mr. Arrogant looked down as I listed my credentials, having been shut up for the moment. Beside me, Bradley cut another disapproving glance my way, clearly not happy with the tone I'd used to frame my response. Shrugging, I gave him a look full of clear conscience. The kid had asked me a question, all I'd done was answer.

"Just so we're aware, Danielle is my younger cousin, but while we're on the job it shouldn't come into play. I don't ever want you boys to feel as though you're up against some kind of family wall. It is your manager's job to address almost all of your concerns about the band's success but if you ever feel she isn't doing her job, all of you have my card. Feel free to contact me, I'll be keeping as close an eye on you all as I can."

A tiny chorus of thanks floated from the other end of the conference table and I played with the rounded edge of my leather bound legal pad anxiously. I hated it when Brad brought up our family connection at the company. It made me feel uncomfortable for some reason. Maybe I was imagining it, but it seemed as though that knowledge always made the looks on people's faces change. Like suddenly they were making connections between my relations and how I'd landed my dream job (though I'd hardly call babysitting three twenty-something emo kids my dream job…). Like suddenly they were taking me a lot less seriously. But what was said was said, it couldn't be taken back now. And besides, the kids had every technical right to know. I just wished they'd show a little faith in me.

As Brad called the meeting to an end and they stood from their seats, I could see the blatant worry on their faces. They didn't trust me at all. Because I was young, because I was a woman, because my boss was family and mostly because I was inexperienced. And even though I was just as comfortable in the music business as in my own home, even though one glance at this band made me want to laugh…I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little scared. Sure, I had studied the theory of band management. I had assisted in band management. But I'd never done this on my own and there was the ever present possibility of fucking up royally. Of proving the fear in the eyes of these boys justifiable.

"You don't look too excited." Out of nowhere there was suddenly a body in between me and the door, a hand held out between us. Shocked, I looked up only to find Mr. Etiquette looming over me, an amused but soft smile playing on his mouth.

"Let's just say, we both have things to prove." I shrugged, extending my own hand to shake his, wondering if he was at all aware of how intimidating tall his stature was.

"I don't think either of us have too much to worry about. Jack Mercer by the way."

"It's nice to meet you Jack. But I think it's your band, not me, that needs the assurance." Lying through your teeth is something they pretty much force you to learn at schools dealing with the entertainment industry. Presentations, papers, internships, mock meetings. It may not be a bench standard spelled out on your syllabus, but if you stay long enough you have no choice but to master that oh-so-important life skill. Granted, if I was honest with myself, I had no qualms about working with Mr. Etiquette. It was the thought of managing his band as a whole that made me mentally cringe.

"Look, don't take what Mikey says personally." He offered, now that his other two band mates had left the conference room in favor of chatting up Bradley in the hallway outside of his office door. "He's just so scared of what he's doing, of where we've gotten. It makes him a little insecure is all. And I guess…I'm sort of apologizing for him in advance?" He acknowledged sheepishly. Laughing softly, I nodded.

"Thanks. I just want you guys to trust me with your careers is all. I can't do this if the people I'm working for don't believe it'll work."

"For what it's worth, you have my faith." He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. His features were sharply cut and there was a dark sense of baggage looming over him. But God, he looked so young. I couldn't even remember what it felt like to have that much youth in me and I was only twenty-five. The daily grind of essays, text books, part time jobs, bills, internships, pouring over legal documents for hours, and sucking up to corporate execs seemed to have drained it from my skin, my eyes, my heart. I wondered with a faint smile if he even knew, if he appreciated the fragility of the years holding him captive at present.

"Thanks." I nodded, sensing in his eyes that putting faith in anything right then wasn't easy for him. "That's worth a lot right now."

"Not a problem. I'll see you on Monday." He returned the soft smile I'd been offering up before walking past me out the door, referencing the meeting we had at the very beginning of next week. A tiny part of me felt some miniscule sense of relief that at least one of the band members already had a sense of the schedule, that he was taking this seriously.

"See you." I returned, watching him leave and wondering just how much of a mess I was getting myself into.


That night, after showering and throwing on a white t-shirt over sweatpants, I settled down in front of my computer to try and dig up whatever I could on this band…what were they called again? Referencing the stack of paper at my side I took a glance at the band name. The Spares. As in, spare parts? No sooner had it passed through my retina than a giggle rose in my throat. Were they trying to win a melodramatic contest or something? Shaking my head, I took a sip of my coffee and went directly to .

Myspace was a music enthusiasts dream come true. Any genre, any label, any band (signed or unsigned), any time for free. Groups could upload, fans could download and with the snap of a finger you could become an underground sensation overnight. As the boys' manager it was my job to find out just how big they were under the radar and how much work I had left to do. Of course, I was also a little curious.

Their page opened up with the same dark splendor that was to be expected from any rock band, taking forever to load because of all the flashing banners, videos and obnoxious crap. Hmm…they needed new pictures taken, this time by a real photographer. As I waited for their tracks to show up, I browsed down into the nether regions to check out the size of their fan base and what people had to say on the comment wall. My eyes widened ever so slightly as the number 17, 934 popped up under friends. Damn…I was a little behind in the game considering I had never even heard of these guys. The comment wall came as no surprise after their popularity was evident. My features fell flat with a lack of amusement as I read through things like:

OMG you guys are so hot!!! I saw you at the coffee shop on 7th and 18th last week and it was AMAZING!! When are you going to be performing again?

I 3 Mikey. A lot.

I love love love your sound! Esp your lead singer's voice. Keep doin whatcha do

You guys rock ^^

I'm sooo addicted to Jack's voice. You guys need to put out an album asap!! Y'all are amazing

It just went on and on and on like that forever, all the way down the page. Accolades for all three of the boys were prominent, but none so much as those for Jack's voice. I'd known he was the lead singer from my paperwork but I guess I hadn't given him as much credit as deserved. Hmm…My interest now piqued, I scrolled back up to the music player for a sample of what all these girls were flipping out about. According to my computer the first song, St. Evelyn, was playing…except it wasn't. Translation: Their page wouldn't be working for me any time soon.

"Fine." I sighed, "Whatever. I feel like listening to Celine Dion anyway."

But before I could click the back button, I found myself wandering over to their pictures. I wasn't impressed with their default, but maybe there would be better ones hidden underneath it. And thankfully there were, it was just that none of them had the whole band present so they couldn't be used as profile pictures. It was a shame too, because some of these were really good. Candid snapshots of living room jam sessions. Fan taken photos of coffee shop open mic nights. Funny Polaroid scans of the band's boyish exploits around New York. Cocking my head sideways at a picture of them dancing with a homeless guy in Central Park…I was pretty sure I didn't even want to know the story there.

As unprofessional as it was to play favorites, I found my eyes getting more excited to snag on pictures of Jack than anyone else. Mikey's were so juvenile, mostly shirtless and/or taken alongside young girls whose chests were all but falling out of their attire. Nathan, who had been Mr. Quiet in that afternoon's meeting, seemed a little camera shy but when he was front and center the kid had an adorable smile.

Jack was so different from either of them…He wasn't desperately looking for attention but he certainly wasn't avoiding it. He had an inner beauty that radiated up to skin-level and got caught in your eyes like a mess that had somehow managed to land in an aesthetically pleasing way. Going back over his stolen moments a second time I found myself mildly jealous, whishing I could still be that kind of happy-go-lucky all the time.

A picture of him on stage and slightly blurred around the edges (obviously fan taken) caught my attention. Jack was screaming into the microphone, guitar pic curled between his fingers as he grasped the stand in front of him. I smiled softly and went back to my favorite, the last photo out of the 23 posted. Somewhere along the shore of the Northeastern United States (most likely someplace in Jersey) the boys had been climbing large boulders along a beach. In the process they had taken turns snapping photographs, but this last one was probably the best. Arms stretched out on either side of him, Jack stood trying to balance from one boulder to the next as his eyes glanced down and a grin stretched his face open. The sky overhead was a little bleak with cloud cover, but the sun was just peaking out over his shoulder as he stood there like a ten-year-old boy pretending to be a plane, the light backshadowing his features perfectly. A few more pictures like that and I could probably convince some small clothing lines to pick us up on an ad campaign or two.

Flipping through the papers on my table, I tried to find more information on the boys, anything that would hint at the big picture hiding behind the handful of puzzle pieces I had. All I got out of my notes was that Nathan was from Jersey, Mikey was a native of NYC (having grown up in Greenwich Village) and Jack had been a product of Detroit. Curiosity over how they'd met flittered through my mind as I flipped further back, stopping when I stumbled upon a few pieces of paper stapled together. It was a copy of the sheet music to one of their songs. Glancing up, I confirmed that the title of this song matched the song they had uploaded onto their Myspace page. The same song my computer was refusing to play.

Without much contemplation, I stood up and took the sheet music with me over to a keyboard standing against my living room wall. Sitting down at the bench, I poised my fingers over middle C out of habit before even reading the key or time signature. I worked my way through the piano section of the first four lines, which didn't have any words involved, pretty easily. It was a basic intro, nothing special when paired with the drum beat written in beneath the piano notes. Flipping the page, I started working on the notes that were attached to lyrics, but didn't get too far. Frowning at the complex turn things had just taken, I decided to just try and work out the melody before adding in the piano harmony. Looking at the lyrics, I started to sight-read what was in front of me and after a few tries had stanza number one down pat.

Fifteen, broken and scared
Seen too much that I'll never share
But baby boy someday you gotta learn
How to deal with this life and all its turns

Hmm…I liked the tune, but the lyrics needed to be smoothed out a little if it was going to fit alongside the other instruments commercially. Reading on, I attempted to make sense of the chorus, mildly interested to see where the words were going with their story.

And she says baby, would you just look at me
Keep those eyes up off the floor
You gotta meet this fight head on
Just know when the waves start crashin'
We'll be together standin' strong

Frowning a little, I wondered which one of them wrote the lyrics to this particular song. What had inspired it? What had these boys been through?

I can't always hold that light
Before your feet
And the darkness creepin' up on you
Won't be keepin' a hold on me
But just look beside you sweetheart
Trust these hands to guard you all night
I'll see you through these changing tides

Who was this Evelyn woman that the song was titled for? Was she real or just a metaphor? The major key and slow pacing carried so much weight that I couldn't help the gut feeling that this was based on true events. Question was, whose were they and what exactly had happened?


A/N: So, what'd you think? Jack loves to his fanmail ;)