*Hi anyone who's currently reading this! Here's the next bit, I'll be posting more and more over the next couple of days, don't worry, I won't forget about you! I don't own SON and feel free to correct any weird mistakes I may have made, I'm not exactly a fact checking type of girl lol*

We arrived outside a big building that has a group of people standing outside the door, apparently waiting for me.

"I'm here, I'm here. Sorry," I say, as I see the amused faces of my band mates through the front glass window.

"Hey Ashley, do you think they would have just cancelled if you never showed up, even if the entire band was here except you?" Jake asked me, his teasing smirk bigger than his face.

I smirked at my overly gay keyboardist, and say, "well who else would they ask incredibly sexist questions to? You guys? Sorry, your penises omit you from that category, and then they'd just have to rewrite all their questions, so does that answer you?"

I smiled at the rest of my band, Sean, my bassist who I went to King High with, who followed me to Austin for the band. Ethan, who knew my dad and decided to join up because he knew guitar really well, and most importantly knew me. And then there's Aiden, who, well, we have a history. We dated, then he knocked me up, I lost the baby, and we just stayed friends after that. I imagine the hurt from losing the baby just, killed anything we had. Now we're incredibly close and I don't know what I'd do without him. He plays drums, by the way.

Oh, you're asking about me being gay, and how I dated a boy? Well, sometimes you just can't help who you fall in love with, boy or girl. Even if it's straight girl. And then after you do fall, you're officially fucked.

I sit down at the microphone and put on the headset, ready for the questioning to begin, after greeting everyone in the studio, including Joel, the radio host.

"So Ashley, we'll go on in about 5 minutes, we'll just ask you a few routine questions and just give us the best answer you can think of."

"Alright partner, though this isn't my first rodeo."

He laughs, and start playing with his papers, as Sean leans over to me before the broadcast starts.

"Hey, did you get Chelsea's invite?"

"Yeah, well, Kyla told me about it on the way over here."

"Well, we going or what? Come on, first of our friends get married? That's pretty crazy."

"Yeah well, I'm pretty sure I'm busy that week so I don't know if I'll be able to go."

"What week?" He looks at me suspiciously.

"The week it happens." I look away, trying to avoid his knowing eyes.

"Tell me the dates that the wedding is, if you know for a fact you're busy."

I look at him with my famous, "fuck off," look, while I hear the broadcast starting. He giggles at me while I start fiddling with the collar of my plaid button up while trying not to think about the Wedding.

I mean… I do want to go… for Chels. She got me through so much, by just being there for me back in high school. But I can't be there…not with that family. Not with the homophobic, bigot mother of Clay's. I can't sit in the room with that woman. And even more, I can't sit in the room with her daughter.

At the allowance of me to think about her for even a second, I start to feel a heavy weight start of my chest and stomach. This is why I can't go, I just can't.

Then again…I'm 24 years old for fuck's sake. I need to be able to get over this. I feel more pathetic than I worry about other people thinking it about me.

I'm going to get whiplash from going back and forth so much.

I'm so caught up in my thoughts, I feel a smack on my leg, and all the sudden realize I've been asked a question.

"Oh sorry, I was just having a quick nap, can you repeat the question?"

Everyone giggles and the interview starts his question over again.

"I was just asking, how you guys got along making this new album?"

"Oh well, we fought, as usual, but I think for us, the fight is what makes the album the best. It brings those frustrations out, brings them to the surface and then it's easier to put more emotion into the songs."

"Awesome, awesome. So there's some listeners out there that I'm sure are wondering, do you pick out your own outfits for stage, and do your own makeup?"

Ahhh, the interview had a good start, now we're back to THOSE questions.

"Well you know, I think the guys should be asked this one, man, they have an extensive preparation every night of the tour, and I take only about 10 minutes to get ready."

Everyone laughs again, but he doesn't let up.

"Hahah, I'm sure, but how does it feel, you know, being a girl in a male dominated genre of music?"

Sigh. I notice the guys are shooting glances to one another, hoping I will keep my cool. Kyla is in the corner, practically chewing through a pen in nervousness.

"Well, yes, rock has many, many really amazing males singers in the genre, I will agree. But what about Janis Joplin? Jefferson Airplane? I mean, jesus, Stevie Nicks, Pattie Smith, you name it, plenty of women who, in my and other's opinions, dominate the rock genre more than any man ever has. And believe me, Joel, the world domination feels fantastic."

I give him a small smirk, and he lets out a small uncomfortable chuckle and looks back down to his paper. The rest of the interview goes pretty much the same, but I kept my cool, wanting to get out of there without losing any extra of my time because I decided to teach him a lesson about woman being just as equal as men.

After breathing through that, I slide back into Kyla's car after actively avoiding Sean's fervent questions about the wedding, and anyone else who wanted to talk. Which I found difficult because people were everywhere and it's not like I'm the most invisible person in a room. Once in the car, I see Kyla coming out, phone on her ear, talking very animatedly. When she sees that I'm in the car, she turns around quickly, says some last words, then hangs up and gets in.

"And who was that?"

"Why does it matter?" She puts on her seatbelt and starts up the car.

"Most often than not, it doesn't. But when you act strange, I get the feeling there's a reason I should have concern. You're not as opaque as you think."

She laughs and just says, "do you want to go out to dinner tonight to celebrate your calm headedness today during the asshat interrogation?"

I let the phone call slide for now, after realizing how incredibly hungry I was. It was 5, now, a little early for food, but I figure it would be 6:30 before food even sits down in front of my face, so I start to get excited at the thought.

"So I can pick?"

"Hell yeah, go for it." She turns on the song she had yelled over earlier on the way to the studio, and starts singing along to it, with a sunny disposition I haven't seen in her in months.

And I know something's up.

But at this point, my stomach doesn't care, it just wants to be fed, so I pick my favorite Thai food restaurant in Downtown Austin, where I eat at least once a week.

Another warning sign, Kyla didn't even put up a fight when I said I wanted to eat there. She hates Thai food. And she hates that I go there so often.

My brain and my stomach start fighting over what's more important, suspicion or food.

Food always wins.