As an orphan Emma Swan had never really had someone she could count on. She was in and out of group homes and foster homes full of people who eventually tired of her, or had kids of their own and sent her back on her way. So, as an orphan Emma Swan had to find another way of coping, of escaping the reality of her world; and she found that in music.

Music, according to her, was magical. It was the expression of the deepest of emotions. It had the power to make you feel love, whether or not you've ever loved or been loved. It could make you feel free. For years she'd stand on the outside of concert halls and stadiums just to hear the music that spilled out into the streets.

It wasn't until years later, at the age of nineteen, that she would go to her first concert. She wasn't sure what had pressed her to spend the extra money on floor seats and she'd probably regret it when rent on her small apartment came around next month but as soon as she reached her seat and the lights went down and the opening note sounded she forgot about her responsibilities.

As she lifted her arms in the air and her body moved along with the rhythm of the music she forgot about the walls she'd built up around herself and her heart. As she closed her eyes she forgot she was the girl no one wanted.

She didn't open her eyes again until the opening act left the stage and they began to set up for the main musician. The stadium was full of an anxious energy as everyone watched the stage, everyone it seemed, except a pair of blue eyes a few seats in front of her. He was looking directly at her as if he was mesmerized by her.

She held his gaze until he arched a teasing eyebrow at her, which caused her to shoot him an amused yet confused smirk.

Luckily the lights dimmed again and the blue eyes in front of her were forgotten as the stadium erupted in screams and applause as the musician took stage and began playing. Emma easily slipped back into her trance of just her and the music.

Not a thought was spared for the man a few rows in front of her until the concert was over, the lights came up, and she was making her way down the aisle of chairs towards the exit and someone behind her cleared their throat.

"Excuse me lass, mind if I escort you back to your vehicle?" An Irish voice drawled behind her.

Emma stopped short, nearly causing him to run into her. "No thank you," she said quickly trying to lose him in the crowd.

"Look love, it's dark and cold and the streets are full of vandals and dastardly men," he said easily keeping up with her.

"Okay weirdo, thank you for the tip but I'm fully capable of taking care of myself… and I have a taser in my purse, so… I'll see you around, or not."

"Well in that case you can walk me to the parking lot. Have you got a name darling? Or should I keep up the endearing titles?"

Heaving a sigh she gave in to the crazy man behind her, "My name is Emma Swan and I will walk with you to the parking lot if you promise not to bother me again."

He flashed her a grin and fell into step beside her, "My name's Killian Jones, thanks for asking. I promise I won't bother you again, that is, if you don't fall victim to my charming wit and devilishly good looks."

"Is this an Irish thing or are you legitimately crazy?" she said once they got outside and the crowd thinned out a bit. She turned her head to look at him and had to admit he was very handsome. Dark hair that fell over her forehead and eyes so blue they made her second guess the color of the sky.

"I couldn't help but notice the way you listen to music Swan, like you lose your whole self amongst the thumbing of the bass and the lyrics."

"What about it?" she said, slightly off put by his observations. No one ever paid attention to her.

"It's the way people who have nothing else listen to music."

"Yeah, well I guess you know everything there is to know about me then," she said crossing the street as she made toward the direction of the parking lot.

"I meant no offence. I just meant… I know you listen to music the way you do because it's the same way I listen to music."

"Yeah, you and every other guy looking for a fun night," she said lifting an eyebrow at him, almost daring him to disagree.

"Not looking for a fun night lass, just looking for a friend," he said lifting a hand to scratch behind his ear nervously.

It was then that Emma took a second to take in his appearance. Worn converse sneakers, ripped jeans that obviously hadn't been bought that way, a plain white t-shirt and a battered old leather jacket; everything about him screamed tough guy with walls just like her. A loner.

Or just a slob. And just like that, her walls were back in place.

"Yes well, I'm afraid you're going to have to look elsewhere. I'm fine on my own," she said though her heart was screaming at her something entirely different.

Emma couldn't figure out how in a matter of minutes this man had her doubting everything she believed, everything she'd used to protect herself.

As they approached a yellow Volkswagen bug she shuffled her feet awkwardly before turning to face him. "Well, guess it's time for you to, what is it you'd say, bugger off," she said with a wave of her hand.

"Emma, I know we just met, but I'd like to see you again. I'd like to prove to you that I'm sincere," he said with a furrowing of his eyebrows.

She could tell he was being honest, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out why.

"Why me? What would make you want to get to know me? I've lived nineteen years and no one's… No, it's better if we just make our separate ways now."

"Look Swan, I don't know what it is… but there's something about you. I feel like I know you… maybe it's because we've both been alone; we both find our escape in music. I can see it in your eyes, in the way you lost yourself tonight," he said before pulling her hand forward and pulled a pen out of his coat pocket. "Just give me a call… if you want."

He scribbled his number on her palm before turning her hand over and placing a quick kiss across her knuckles before dashing off quickly before she could protest, shooting her a cocky grin over his shoulder on the way.