I'm very sorry about this chapter taking so long...what can I say, busy, busy, busy :S x

"So," I started, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, as pedestrians followed the directions of the little green man out in front of me, "am I taking you to the club or what?"

Lounging as far as the confined space would allow him along the back seats, Gabe's persistent picking at his nail polish had been the only sound to fill the silence before I broke it, seeing as I had collected the cargo but had no idea where I was meant to dump him. If I could have tapped into his mind, I would have avoided speaking thanks to the memory revisit we both shared, but I suppose one of us had to grow a pair and deal with it.

Turning round a corner, he got up and took a gander at our surroundings, leaning on my chair.

"Nah, drop me off at the restaurant across the street, Rube's will probably meet us there; being in quarantine is hungry work after all."

I tried not to turn around sharply at the mention of quarantine. Dealing with all the emotional turmoil, I'd forgotten the reason behind why I had to pick him up, reliving the crowd, police… and the man crying over a framed picture.

The desire to bombard Gabe with questions surged within, but it was beaten by the sudden growl of my stomach.

"You hungry?" he asked casually, as if I hadn't just made the unflattering sound.

Feeling defiant, I answered, "No," but an encore of the growl betrayed me, since the last I had eaten was over twelve hours ago.

"Come on, why don't you join us, it's just going to be me and Ruby and she'll be on the phone to a bunch of event promoters."

Considering I'd be in bed by now sleeping the morning away after a night shift and was a complete bitch without a proper rest, the idea didn't really appeal to me in the slightest, only I don't think I was quite ready to leave Gabriel yet.

I wasn't comfortable with just going back to the way things were before this moment, where we'd be aware of the others presence but not let ourselves acknowledge it for some reason or another. I wanted to see this thing through and make sure he was alright, since I wouldn't trust Ruby's word for it if I asked later on, or his. After all, there was a concert at stake here and that was of the utmost importance…apparently.

"Fine; but you're paying."

Stretching his eye to rim it with the black pencil I had stuffed in my beaten up bag, I chuckled at the mouth hanging open as Gabe did it, gathering that it wasn't just a girl thing then.

"Okay, you officially wear more make-up than I do."

That wasn't true by a long shot, but the amount doesn't go to waste in my vague attempt to replicate Siouxsie Sioux and as he gave his lips a dab with it, he passed the thing over to slip his wig back in place, becoming the infamous Bolivar again. Obviously his record label was under the impression Gabe's short hair, just wasn't Goth enough. A cringe worthy statement if ever there was one, instead of letting him be himself, which wasn't too different from his present fashion choices admittedly, only there was a different air people carry when their doing something naturally versus forcefully.

I raised a brow, with my leg kicked up against the front wheel, "finished?"

The restaurant in question happened to be the one across the road from the club. A swift kind of getaway I would imagine if something was amiss with their exclusiveness and reporters began piling in, searching for an interview with Gabe. But a plus for me was that we could park at the back of the club, and walk on over, since there I had my designated space, empty until my car alone filled it, such was the power of my name being spray painted on the wall allowed.

Walking across the pavement, I was going to slip my hands into my pockets out of sheer habit until one was grabbed.

I gasped for a number of reasons. The surprise of the action, the way I hadn't realized how empty my hand had actually felt before being swallowed by Gabe's, the way it reminded me of being someone's to hold onto, and that the last time it had been held, I had been Gabe's…but also; the coldness to his skin.

Obviously, New York was like living in an ice bucket come this time of year. Hell, my own fingers resembled icicles rather than flesh, only I could feel the temperature difference regardless.

"Keep up shorty! I'm really not in the mood to get recognized. I mean, the autographs I could handle, but the screaming…it gets old real fast, and my heads not in great shape as it is."

I tried not to raise my neck to further validate his dig at my height, as I glared at him. Gabe used to love how small I was in comparison to most people and hated it when I tried to add a couple of inches to myself by wearing heels. Honestly he did me a favor every time I would pull out my highest pair and demand I take them off, because I could never walk in them with confidence in any case, and was known to land on my ass after a couple of drinks any way without having to balance my weight on pin-needles.

Now, I hardly wore anything on my feet that weren't my pair of black leather biker boots, which had seen better days, since I was a teenager when I had stolen them off a 'friend,' while they were passed out drunk. I tried not to judge myself too harshly for the crime, seeing as the person was an absolute dick, who had sought to hire me for more than just a mic opening at a bar and thought I could entertain the gents there in other ways.

I shit you not! The bastard actually thought I would let him be my pimp, or that I would be a prostitute just to put some money in my pocket.

Screw that!

Besides his boots, which I had to stuff some socks into the toes of to fit, I had also gotten my revenge, by flattening all the tires of the bars customers and then leaving the knife blatantly in his hand while he slept at the table close to the exit.

I smiled at the beating he must have gotten and pressed the button when Gabe and I got to the crossing, waiting for the red man to turn green.

"Going into your shell there?"

His neck buried between his shoulder blades, Gabe let his wig curtain either side of his face, to distort his features somewhat.

"I told you I don't want anyone to notice me."

Whispering under his breath, I gazed at the crowd which was, at this time in the morning, made up of the same man replicated numerously. Same suits, matching briefcases and cells pressed against their ear as they spoke rapidly in frustration. If they weren't the same ages, the wrinkles from stress made them all appear as though they were and I wondered who here, excluding myself, had actually heard of Gabriel Bolivar.

"Ah, I think you're quite safe there."

With our neon signal telling us to go, Gabe's hand tightened around mine as people from behind us, which I hadn't known were there, pushed past to get onto the other side quickly, seeing as everyone was in a rush nowadays and didn't have a clue what patience meant. However, the buildup in possible spectators worsened his worries and I thought it interesting.

"Since when are you shy from getting attention?"

I spoke without meaning to and Gabe shot me a look to have dared to ask him and as he surveyed the horde, he shrugged his broad shoulders and rubbed agitatedly at his eyes, careless of his handiwork, that he'd just spent a good half hour applying in my wing mirror, letting it smear.

"I don't know…it's like I can…fucking hear them breathing together; or something stupid."

I was taken aback by that response, "well, that isn't weird."

I wanted to add if he had taken anything since Gabe was no stranger to a fine array of drugs, ranging in how hard core they were and what was sick was that I knew for a fact that it was Ruby who helped him get most of them, to counteract whatever illness or mood might ruin a major promotion she had lined up for him.

I swear to god, if I waved my hand over him, I might actually feel the strings she pulled to get him to do whatever she wanted, but if I was going to be sat at the same table as her as we entered through two large glass doors, I had to control my temper less I lunged for her throat.

At first, the host standing like a beanpole all prim and proper, smelling like an expensive brand of soap, froze behind his little desk, while his eyeballs nearly popped right out of his head.

"Uh, can I help you?"

Clean shaven, with his baby curls springing into a controlled style, his trousers were tighter than Gabe's and mine, but that was where the similarities ended, with him and just about everyone else in the restaurant, where a couple of diners blatantly turned in their seats to stare at me as if I wasn't familiar with their oh so subtle ways of mocking me by now.

"Reservations for Bolivar."

Compared to Gabe's deep tone, the host was an absolute ponce, who buckled disgustingly when my Ex reached over and snatched the menus from him and started flicking through the pages casually, invading the desk at the same time when he leaned his elbows on it.

I sniggered and broke out into a yawn as the host, who I read on his badge was named Francis, rambled on about there being no such reservation, with neither me nor Gabe listening to him for different reasons I suppose, since I was finding the whole thing amusing, while Gabe must be used to it.

I mean, the whole world didn't know prominent figures in the rock scene as they would other A-listers, such as and the lord forgive me for swearing, 'the Kardashian's.'

Retching to myself at my train of thought, there was a call that caught us from the top floor of the establishment, where a woman waved behind the banisters.

"Gabe, get up here!"

Francis was stunned the woman in a designer pencil dress was beckoning the likes of us. A mass of black on black, where the sole traces of color ever to be found on my person, was the streaks in my hair I had recently cropped into a blunt cut, to the middle of my neck. This past month, I had chosen a bright purple, with the detail being just about what I could handle where color was concerned, feeling far more comfortable in black.

Gabe had been the same, in fact we used to share clothes, accessorizing primarily around some band t-shirt or another, as I had done presently, only his style had seemed to have developed from that, perhaps even branded with names Francis might have heard of, but keeping true to his whole image of goth, he remained in black.

"Fancy that, my name got her a table, but not the man himself!"

Shaking his head, feigning disappointment, Gabe tossed his menu and it spun for a few brief seconds for the host to try and scramble to catch.

"I hope the same doesn't go for the food."

His arm looped around my shoulders, as he led me towards the staircase up where his manager was, shouting behind him, " I'll have the lobster and after the night I've had, throw in a couple of shots; don't care what of, just shots; and my friend here will have the steak, rare, and with red wine."

I scoffed, alerting him.

"Did I get it wrong?"

"No," I answered, "you actually remembered."

This was no fast food chain.

Out of my element, the table looked freshly polished underneath the cream cloth. Not plastic, with a sticky coating, I couldn't tell what the last person sat there had eaten for me to squish underneath my boots and it was very secluded.

Clearly this floor was reserved for VIPs and I examined every corner in my exploration of how the other half live, wondering what the price list was for this joint and whether the cow my steak was coming from shit gold, to make it worth the expense.

"Hmm, fancy establishment."

Lifting a silver spoon, I waved it between my fingers as evidence, when it was one among many lined up beside a plate, which I couldn't understand and doubted that anyone else did really. Focusing on the utensil with one eye closed, I had lined it up so that it swallowed Ruby's face, while Gabe kissed her cheek.

Her emphasis on the lip glossed pucker popped with a 'mwah,' and I gagged at her attempt to make herself feel classier than she was, regarding the fact that I had once caught Ruby with a lacy thong around her ankles, when a certain event manager was having second thoughts on a tour of Gabe's, after he'd been arrested with a needle in his arm.

There was no magic behind her business deals, as Gabe assumed, only simple fucking, in which case, a common prostitute could easily replace her.

With a terrible mullet, a sweat stained suit pinching where his fat was desperate to burst free, the encounter had worsened our already sour relationship, when I saw for myself that Ruby knew no bounds wherever money was concerned and it wasn't that I was aware of that fact which pissed her off. Only that her partner hadn't been the least bit attractive.

"Can't remember your orders going as far as eating with us; Barmaid. Have you not got anything better to do than sniff around Gabe's heels?"

'I'd rather be called barmaid than slut,' I muttered under my breath.

Truth is; there is something truly acidic between Ruby and I. I brewed and boiled every time we were in visual distance of each other, souring the whole atmosphere, since we never tried to deny it and it made everyone around us deeply uncomfortable, even causing my ferocious roommate to bustle, and I have pulled her out of some pretty nasty fights over the most stupid things.

And our hatred was born through one person.

"Aww, Come on Rube's; I invited her."

Kicking back comfortably at the table, Gabe had hooked his jacket behind him and was staring at Ruby expectantly, "Least I could do, after she came to get me from that hell hole."

fists so tightly clenched I thought she might puncture herself from those claws at the ends of her fingers, I could see she was annoyed Gabe wanted me to stay, which led to me worsening her mood when I gestured for her to sit first, a little dramatically I'll admit.

If she couldn't get rid of me, she'd concede to pretending I didn't exist, at least that was her conclusion when her phone started ringing and snapping it against her ear, Ruby's voice drifted into a conversation where money was the goal.

From her stylishly braided head, down to those manicured toes, every inch of her was paid by exploiting Gabe. I didn't know how she did it, but no press was bad in her eyes, making his addictions work in their favour, much to many a parents despair, and as she babbled away, my eye narrowed more and more into slits, holding Ruby in utter contempt, when she pulled away for just a moment.

"Hey Gabe, does Joan Luss ring a bell?"

Scratching at his wig, Gabe's mind wasn't as sharply paced as most peoples were. I didn't think it was from the drugs though. Despite their obvious side effects, he was clever when he wanted to be in order to get what he wanted and his blasé attitude was more so the result of a lack in care. No one ever asked for his opinion, so he wasn't used in providing it, taking him off guard.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "she threw her name around quite a lot; she was one of the survivors."

Ruby beamed gleefully, relishing in the information, "seems you made a good friend there, she reckons whatever anyone offers us for an interview, and I'll tell you the last one was three hundred thousand, it's going to be trump change compared to what the airlines going to offer us."

'Us' I snorted. Whatever he did, Gabriel couldn't forget about Ruby, she made certain of that, but I let myself get side tracked again, perking up at Gabe's statement.

"One of the survivors…" I repeated.

Cocking a brow at me, I had whispered so quietly I didn't think anyone would hear me, but it would seem Gabriel was attuned to the sound of my voice, "sure, haven't you seen the news?"

I froze a minute, mumbling like an idiot as my thoughts caught up with me when deliberating over what that could mean, 'survivors', then I stopped myself from providing an explanation just out of curiosity and raised a brow to probe him, to see if he remembered.

I guessed by the slight squint to his eye that he knew I was waiting for something, only who could blame me after what happened in the car concerning his tattoo. Since we broke up, I had believed those moments lost, mattering to no one besides the sad little goth girl, missing the feeling of her guy wrapping his arms around her while she slept. As much as it killed me, I was such a helpless romantic. Never used to be; Before Gabe, boys were those things you used to kick in the dirt when you were a kid, looking down a Barbie's top and idealising their perfect, non-existent, girlfriend around a plastic doll. However, after much denial, I had to admit there was something in Gabe that reflected a part of myself, inside of him. I looked at him and it was like when I looked in the mirror and saw the miserable little girl I had once been, only in place of where he stood, it was a scared boy instead.

Mistreated, misunderstood, and desperately alone. The Gabe I had known, wandered the shadows with his head low and his hands in his pockets before he bumped into me at times square, a girl just as lost. These two people had met and in that moment, everything seemed a little brighter over the discovery of two kindred spirits.

If only they had held on to each other…

"…Wait," I watched the wheel sin head turning, "too depressing right? Christ you haven't changed lily."

It was true; I didn't need no damn picture box to tell me the world can be shit. Everyone was aware of that already, no need to scar myself with further proof.

"Can't say the same for you unfortunately. "

The grin on his face faltered, "What do you mean?"

"well-"

"Gabe," Ruby cut me off, "you won't believe the tour the record label is planning for you; start of next month. Hope you're not put off from flying, because you're more or less going to conquer Europe"

Gabe half smiled and nodded as if not fully paying attention, angled in his chair to the point where his knee grazed mine, which I was very conscious about, as the touch kept drawing my concentration.

Somehow I read too deep into it, like it was him calling for help not just from an old Ex, but a friend. The only true friend he's ever had in his life, that didn't have some hidden agenda.

"Do you have any input in what goes on?"

"Huh?" I caught him off guard, before I signalled to Ruby chatting on the phone, "Oh…what you think I'm paying Rube's for. She deals with all that crap."

"Then pay her to fight battles on your behalf as well then Gabe. If you don't want to go anywhere, you don't have to."

Before he'd been transformed into the rock star present, between us it had been me who had done the most travelling. Never settling down, I skipped town after town once I got familiar with it and had been to so many places that I couldn't even remember the names to most of the memories I had of certain spots that sometimes pop into mind.

Gabe however, hated travelling. He had dreamed of New York when he was a kid and as soon as he had saved enough cash and was old enough, moved there, never looking back on his hometown, to him it was his safety zone, the reality of living in the place where he had always dreamed of escaping to in his youth. Why would he ever want to leave? Except now he was hardly ever home in this crazy city and it was worth noting that this could only come into play when he went off the rails like he did when touring other countries.

"Simple as that, huh..."

Staring at me intently, Gabriel leaned forwards to the point where I could feel his breath hitting my face, "when was the last time you made a last minute decision. Go on, I used to love listening to your wild stories about what you had done that day."

I couldn't stop the laugh from remembering storming through our old apartment's door, going a hundred miles per hour, rambling about my day. Soon as I bolted through the door, Gabe used to sit perfectly erect waiting for me to start no matter where he was at and what surprised me was that he actually hung onto every word, but he was missing something out.

"Nine times out of ten, you were right there alongside me."

He stroked where the tattoo was on his ribcage, "yeah…seems like a lifetime ago."

A part of me whispered in the back of my mind, 'that's because it was.'

"Well, you gonna tell me?"

I sighed, staring up at the ceiling at the realisation I didn't have an answer for him and practically flopped to rest my elbows on my legs, putting our faces a mere inch apart.

"Want to know the truth? I can't actually remember the last crazy thing I did."

I could have sworn I saw a flash of disappointment, the sympathetic kind. Then again that voice came, 'I can; four years ago when we were still together and I was happy'

That was as good an explanation as any. Four years and for the majority of them, happiness had been fleeting; when I drank empty a bottle of wine. Whenever I tried at all, I just couldn't inspire myself to feel anything but anger and sadness and I missed the person I used to be.

"How about when you came home with a full pack of water balloons you started filling up in the kitchen sink and then charged right up to the rooftop, firing them at every man you saw because one called you a freaky bitch on the subway. Hell, soon as you noticed me standing behind you, I got one."

I listened excitedly like these stories were about some other girl, unable to relate myself to them and laughed.

"What can I say; men. None of you are innocent."

Gabriel tucked a piece of my black hair behind my ear, brushing along the curve. Caught up in the past, my gaze turned serious from the intimacy. I should have told him to stop, if I had wanted, but that was the catch; I didn't want him to stop. He kept his hand still while we remained closer than we had ever been since the last time I kissed that cocky mouth of his and my lips tingled at the thought, making me lick them to occupy their need to cut away the distance.

I had to be smart here; the adult like I had always been, otherwise Gabe would take advantage of any give, I allowed concerning the boundaries our separation put in place for the good of, well me.

The air brewing between us, it screamed for more flirtations that were hardly harmless the way they beckoned me to possibly make a fool of myself. If being a rock star hadn't worked out, I was convinced Gabe could have made it as an actor, saying the right things to get me in his bed, or to sneak away to the bathrooms, since I knew for a fact he wasn't picky where he screwed around.

The air, as electric as it was, in a warm, comforting, familiar sort of way, I broke the current when I snapped back in my seat, trying to pretend the cutlery was the most interesting thing I'd ever seen as I fidgeted with the layout of forks.

"…there was another time too."

His voice had dulled, telling me of the done damage I'd caused pushing him away; little did I know it was all part of his plan.

"I'm sure; yeah, didn't Kaya say something about you having a baby face during a night out, then come morning you were moaning about a pain in your…"

My cheeks were inflamed and my whole body tensed, "Oh my god!"

Letting loose a loud obnoxious laugh just to tease me further, he pretty much bellowed for the whole restaurant to hear, "you didn't want to scar your face but a needle through the nipple seemed a good alternative."

I covered my face embarrassed from my drunken antics, since I would not have gotten any sort of piercing had I been sober. Tattoos I could deal with, but piercings sent shivers down my spine after Kaya got her septum done and it went through the cartilage. The crunching sound, her scream of bloody murder, despite it being her it happened to, it was me who had their head down their toilet spewing my guts up.

"Have you still got it?"

Reaching over, I felt a tug at my top until I swatted him away, "Guess you'll never know Bolivar."

He beamed at me with that cheeky grin of his, like the one he had plastered all over his face the day we met and I resisted saying, 'ah! Now there's my Gabe.'

Then he changed. His whole demeanour tensed after he'd flinched the way you might when a fly buzzes past your ear.

"What is it?" I asked, seeing he was uncomfortable.

It grated on his nerves whatever it was, while pressing the side of his head into his shoulder.

"That humming sound again," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"I don't hear it Gabe."

That must have been what he meant when we were walking on over from the car. A buzz of people thinking it would seem when standing as one person among many.

"Yeah me neither, but if it has a tune right it down."

'Seriously, you've been talking on your phone this whole time but when you care to actually acknowledge the people in front of you, that's the comment you decide to share?' I could have bitten at Ruby, I had valued reason to with plenty of ammo to let her know just what my opinion was of her at that second, however, seeing Gabe's obvious pained expression, mine and Ruby's bickering would not help him.

"Gabe, are you okay?"

Instinctively I reached for his arm, but it jerked under me.

"Yeah," he said bluntly, "fine."

Since picking him up, I had been transported to many days that have long passed, revelled in them and reminisced along with Gabe, something I would not have ever expected to do. This instant was no exception. The ignoring, foul mood change, the snapping and grunting, dragging only brief sentences out of him whenever I spoke…

I felt my heart being pinched, this being the man I had to deal with towards the end of our relationship; the man that gave me no other option than to walk away.

Back then, I had screamed and I had sworn. Dare I say but, I even was so tempted to hit him for treating me like nothing we had or that even I mattered to him anymore, when he meant the world to me. Right now I was reliving that and the sadness that hung over me forced my eyes to water and I might have spilt some tears, if not for the sudden frustration that replaced it.

"No, you're not getting away that easy. Unlike Ruby, I don't give a damn about this concert, if you're not feeling well, tell me; just what the hell happened on that plane?"

Quarantine and talk of being a survivor, I had ignored too much evidence set before me of things being real bad here in the man next to me and at JFK. It was an easy thing done when days pass in a sort of routine; to work, sleep, eat and repeat, now I felt the earth under my feet shake, as if due to impending change.

None of it seemed real; and though I'd seen eyes blood shot before, there was a definite crimson ring surrounding Gabe's iris, different from anything I'd seen before, not like a burst blood vessel either.

Something wasn't right and my worry must have been evident, because in typical Gabriel fashion when someone showed the least bit concern, he cut them off.

"Hey Gabe..."Ruby called from across the table and he wasted no time in turning his back on me.

Staring at his back, I flinched taking insult from the action, drilling a hole in the back of his head and while I fumed behind him to no avail, I just didn't see the point in staying.

"Fine."

Snatching my bag from where I had slung it on the floor beside me, I didn't bother with goodbye's and stormed past both the rock star and his manager, having lost all will to remain in the presence of the money grabber and furious with myself for having fallen victim to my Ex, breaking my promise not to lose all control over my emotions.

As I came to the top of the staircase a waiter got in my way carrying a tray. On it was my wine, with the bottle balanced behind it, three shots and a glass of rum.

"Ah!" I cried, taking my wine and cheering it towards where Gabe and Ruby were, as I downed the delightful red liquor.

"Oh now that is good," I commented, grabbing the full bottle from the startled boy and waving it in the air as I descended the stairs,

"At least I got my breakfast out of this little get together!"

Half way down, I didn't expect to get away without Ruby biting back and she hung over the banisters again shouting, "Remember barmaid you agreed to come in early today. One o'clock."

I inwardly cursed that she would still hold me to that shift after being awake under obligations that both were and not under my job description and I realised just how exhausted I was with her kind reminder.

"Whatever."

I took a hearty swig from my bottle, tipping it right back for show, but occupied in the consumption, it was my luck, while the people I was trying to get away from watched me, that I would walk straight into someone.

Tall, broad, Dark haired with wide blue eyes, there was some sort of badge hanging around his thick neck I didn't pay much heed to as I apologized.

"Sorry about that."

He held up his arms casually letting his plastic bag swing, "hey, no worries here."

There was an accent, a strange one where a New Yorker was battling it out with foreign roots…Russian perhaps.

I smiled nonetheless and the next thing I knew, I was slamming open my apartment door with no memory of the journey there, feeling my hands practically vibrate with all the energy I harboured.

There was no chance in hell I could be capable of speech right now without screaming my head off and set up in what was meant to be the dining area, was my sole path at becoming human again.

Without a single shit given about volume, 'Bitch' the name of my electric guitar, I plugged it in and started plucking the strings, to the point where my dry guitar player fingers broke skin and bled.

If I was going to face the club in two hours, I needed to release everything I had trapped inside of me.

Otherwise, I don't think I could quite trust myself being in the same room as the company I'd just basked in, again.

feel free to leave a comment, I'd love to hear from fellow Strain fans :) x