"So on a scale from one to you tripping in front of millions on the AMA's, how badly did I embarrass myself the other night?"

Joe rolls his eyes. "Just for that, I'm not telling you."

"Oh, come on," Nick pouts. "I'm not asking for details. I only want to know how bad I was."

"Maybe I should tell you the details."

"No. No, I don't want to know."

His brother laughs. "Nick, if you don't remember what happened, why are you so convinced that something bad happened?"

"Well, I've never heard of anything good coming from getting drunk."

"Dude, you really weren't that bad. It's not like you caused a whole scene. I didn't even realize you were shit-faced until Miley pointed it out."

Miley.

Nick hasn't been able to face her since they left Toronto. He hasn't been able to call or text her either. There's a weird feeling that starts in his stomach and expands to the rest of his body whenever he thinks of her. That's how he knows that something bad happened.

"Hey, Nick?" Joe says, snapping his fingers in front of his brother's face. "Anybody home?"

"Yeah, I'm here. Sorry." Nick shakes his head. "Did I say something to her?"

"Not while I was there."

"What do you mean, not while you were there?"

"I thought you didn't want to know the details?"

"Not all of them. Only the ones that I'm asking about."

Joe sighs. "You left with Miley. I was going to take you back to the hotel myself, but she volunteered to. She said that I should stay out and have fun. Besides, she pointed out that it would be better if she got caught with you than me."

Nick groans. "How would that have been better? You said that Dad wanted to fire her. She definitely would've been gone if he found out that she was with us and that I was drunk."

"I guess he didn't find out then."

"Obviously not." He folds his arms over his chest. "I can't believe how selfish you were. You were honestly going to let Miley take the fall for you."

"For me?" Joe snaps. "It's not like I was shoving drinks down your throat. She was covering your ass."

Oh. Well, he hadn't thought about it that way. He's used to pinning the guilt on Joe.

"You should probably apologize to her, but that should go without saying."

"If it goes without saying," Nick replies, "then you shouldn't say it."

"I clearly had to because you're still here."

"Where do you expect me to go?"

"To Miley's room," Joe elaborates. "You know, to apologize."

Nick's stomach churns. "Can't do that."

"You almost got her fired."

"But I didn't."

"But you could have."

"It doesn't matter," he argues, his heart pumping erratically. "It didn't happen."

"Nick, man up and go talk to her. Besides, if you want what happened, you're better off asking her."

He knows his brother is right. He'll have to go to Miley. He does owe her a thank you, anyway.

So with that all too familiar queasy feeling, he walks down the hall to her room and knocks on the door.

"Coming," he hears her shout. Her feet pound against the floor as she runs, and then she's in front of him. "Oh, hey."

"Hi."

"Haven't seen you in a while. I thought you might be avoiding me."

"Avoiding you?" he jokes. "Never."

What he was really doing these past two days was hiding and sneaking around so that they wouldn't run into each other. But that's different than avoiding someone, right? Right.

"So did you need something?"

"I...um...just wanted to talk—"

She sighs. "About Toronto?"

"Possibly... If you're busy, we can totally do this another time."

"No. Come on in."

He exhales loudly once the door is shut behind him. So this is it. There's no turning back now.

"You're gonna have to excuse my appearance," she says as she gestures at her messy updo and sweats. "I just want to relax before the show tonight."

"I think you look fine."

"Fine? Wow, thanks for the compliment, Nick."

He smirks. "I was trying to be nice."

"You might want to get some new material, then." She laughs. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"If you have, like, ginger ale or Sprite or something, that'd be good."

"Do you feel okay?"

"I'm just a little...um..." His voice drifts off as he pats his stomach.

Miley closes the fridge. "You really were avoiding me, weren't you?"

"Well, it's just that I know something happened that night we went to the club."

"What are you talking about?"

Nick sighs. "I'm not sure. I don't remember entirely what happened."

Her eyes lighten. "Nothing happened, Nick," she answers. "You got a little wasted, and I took you home. That's all."

"I know it wasn't that simple."

"It was."

"It wasn't."

"Don't argue with me."

"I just want to know—"

"I told you."

"You gave me the extremely abridged version."

"Because there's nothing to tell." Miley's hands fly to her hips. "What do you want? An entire play-by-play?"

"Yes," he says, sitting on the couch. "Tell me everything."

He doesn't really want to hear everything. Apparently, with Miley though, it's either all or nothing.

She makes her way over, planting herself right across from him. "You were drinking in a booth all night. You were completely antisocial."

"What else?"

"Some girl came up to you and tried to get you to leave with her. Joe and I stepped in, and that's when we decided that it would be better to get you out of there."

"So I left with you."

Miley nods. "We took a five minute cab ride back to the hotel. I brought you to your room, got you in bed, and you were sound asleep."

"And that's it?"

"That's it."

He doesn't buy it. "Did I do something embarrassing?"

"I mean, you were whining a lot in the taxi. And then you threw a fit on how you were going to go back to the club by yourself."

"Anything...worse?"

"No."

"I didn't, like, throw up on you?"

She laughs. "You didn't throw up on me. Trust me. I would've told you if you did, and I would've made you pay for my dry cleaning, too."

Nick grins, but he still has that uneasy feeling. "Did I say anything—?"

"You were fine," she reassures him. "Honestly, you didn't do or say anything that was out of line."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

His nerves don't go away. Nick doesn't get it. If she just told him that nothing happened, then nothing happened. It's not like she would lie to him.

Miley frowns. "You don't believe me."

"I just—"

"Nick, I told you everything. What possibly could've happened that I'd keep from you?"

"I don't know. That's what I'm trying to figure out."

"Well, do you remember anything else?"

"No," he admits. "Just sitting in the booth and drinking."

"Then get over it before I start making up stories."

"You wouldn't dare."

She giggles. "Wait, did I forget to mention the strip tease that you did on top of the bar?"

"Shut up. That's not funny."

"It is to me."

"Whatever. Have fun at my expense. Consider it my thank-you gift."

"What are you thanking me for?"

"For taking me home and for protecting Joe. It wasn't his fault or anything, but he still would've gotten in trouble if my dad found out."

"I know. That's why I left with you."

"But it could've been worse if he caught us together. You know that, don't you?"

She shrugs. "I just considered it to be part of my job."

"It's part of your job to go to a club with the people you work for?"

"No," she retorts. "It's my job to make sure that you're taken care of. Who else would've looked out for you?"

"Joe."

"Joe didn't even realize that you were drunk. You would've left with that girl, and he wouldn't have noticed."

"Well," he counters, "I guess that I was lucky that you were there to watch me."

"That's why I'm your babysitter."

"You're not my babysitter."

"All right, Nick. Whatever you say."

Nick huffs. "How about next time you don't even come out with us? You can stay in the hotel."

"You can't go out anymore," Miley argues. "The drinking age is twenty-one, so until we get to the European leg of the tour, you're the one who's stuck staying back."

"You have to, too, since you enjoy babysitting me so much."

"I don't enjoy it."

"You enjoy keeping an eye on me at clubs."

"Oh, grow up, Nick."

And here they go again. He tries being nice, and it ends up backfiring in his face.

"Hey," she says as he moves for the door, "Nick, c'mon. Don't leave."

He doesn't care if it's childish. He slams the door behind him as he leaves.

The best part about hanging out backstage is that his dad's there. If his dad's around, then that means Joe is. It also means that Miley is as far away as possible.

He wonders why their relationship is so up and down all the time. How the laughter so easily dissolves into screaming voices and empty threats. How one minute she's trying to make him happy and the next she's tearing him apart.

What Nick wonders most about is why he keeps chasing her.

"Ninety-eight. Ninety-nine. Hundred!"

Nick turns around as his brother finishes up the last of his push-ups, part of his pre-show ritual. "You okay?" he asks.

"I'm pumped. Let's do this already."

They both grin as the crowd begins screaming. "Sounds like they're ready for you, bro."

"I'm ready for them, too." He throws his arms around Nick, pulling him into his sweaty frame. "You're gonna watch, right?"

"I'll be right here, Joe. Just like I am every night."

"Good."

Nick claps his brother's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, you know that."

"Yeah, I know." As the lights go out over the audience, Joe pulls back. "Catch you on the flip side."

He's still laughing when Joe walks onto the stage. The thunderous applause rises to a crescendo, accompanied by catcalls and high-pitched screeches. Nick feels his heart swell with pride, the feeling rapidly circulating through every inch of his body.

Until he realizes that none of it is for him. They're all cheering for his brother.

Nick hasn't gotten used to it yet. Joe's played a handful of shows, and each time, it's Nick who's standing aside. He hides behind the curtain while he brother plays his heart out on stage. And he keeps waiting. He waits for his chance to grab a guitar or the mic.

Joe hasn't offered him the chance to. Nick's too proud to ask.

At this point, Nick would even settle for doing background vocals. Hell, he'd do anything. Except dance. He's still not sure why Joe insisted on learning choreography for this tour. He's hands-down the least coordinated of the three of them.

What Nick hates the most, though, is that Joe is covering their songs. They're mostly Nick's if he's being honest. When You Look Me In The Eyes was from his solo album. He basically wrote all of Hello Beautiful on his own. Burnin' Up was ninety-percent his idea. Yet, he's the one watching as his brother sings them for the crowd all on his own.

When he finally starts writing again, he's going to make sure his new songs are entirely in his name. He can't go through this another time. The pain of having someone steal what's yours while you stand there completely helpless hurts too much.

His father clasps his back halfway through All This Time. "You okay?" he asks.

Nick nods. "I'm good."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

He shifts his attention back to the gap between the curtains. Where he can see his brother shuffling around, all sweaty and out of breath and happy.

"You miss it, don't you?"

Nick sighs. "It just sucks standing here and watching when I feel like I should..."

"Be out there with him?"

"Mhm."

Or out there on his own. But performing with Joe would suffice.

"Have you started writing yet?"

"No, I've got nothing."

"Maybe it's hurting you being on the road. Nothing's inspiring you here."

"I can't leave," Nick mutters. "Joe would be hurt."

"He'd understand if it was for your career."

"It'd be selfish."

"It would," his father acquiesces. "You're really making him happy being around."

"I know." Nick steals another quick glance at the stage and then steps back. "I need to get some air. Can I go take a walk?"

"Just don't leave the building."

"I won't. Cover for me if Joe comes back here. But don't tell him that it has something to do with my levels. You know how he gets about that."

"He's protective," his dad answers with a smile. "I'll tell him you needed to take a phone call."

"Thanks."

Nick slips through the hoards of people to the doors, finding the backstage hallway devoid of any activity. He can still hear the crowd though. The sound reverberates against the walls and into his ears, noise that even his thoughts can't drown out.

He wonders if this is what it feels like to lose your sanity. To be so consumed that you can't even control your own mind.

He wants to get away, to escape from the madness. It'd be so easy. He could be L.A. bound in a matter of hours if he wanted. And he wants to. He just doesn't want to disappoint Joe. But those two things seem to go hand in hand.

"That'll be thirty-five dollars, please."

At last, the music seems to fade. Instead, he hears the sound of a female voice saturated with a Southern accent.

Miley.

He waits until the girl walks away with her brand new T-shirt before approaching. "Hey."

Miley looks up, her eyes wide in surprise. "Oh, hey. What are you doing out here?"

"Just taking a walk. What are you doing out here?"

"Well, since I'm not allowed around your brother, I've been assigned to the merch table."

"Oh."

"And it's great, in case you were wondering," she snaps. "I get to chill here and sell overpriced shirts emblazoned with your brother's face to all of his desperate fans."

"I—"

"I shouldn't even be here. It blows." Miley turns to the younger girl sitting beside her. "I don't know how you do this every night."

Nick winces. The venom of her words burns. And even though he knows it's directed towards his father, he still thinks that this is his fault somehow.

"Are you allowed to take a break? I'm getting some air, and you look like you could use some, too."

Miley huffs and looks again to the other girl. "Will you be okay if I take five?"

She nods, and Miley gets up. She starts heading to the doors, but Nick stops her. "I can't leave the building. My dad wants me to stay inside."

"Of course he does." She groans again, raking a hand through her hair. "Where to then?"

"We can head backstage."

"But I don't want anyone to see—"

"It's fine. It's empty back there."

They fall into step, walking through the hallways until the music gets too loud for Nick to handle. Miley feels him stop. Her eyes scan him once before she offers him a smile. "It's hard for you, isn't it?"

"It's getting harder. I thought that I'd be better by now, but with each show I just get reminded more and more of how much I want to be the one singing. How I should be the one up there, performing my songs—"

"And selling shirts with your face all over them?"

Nick grins. "Would you buy one?"

"Of course. I'd love to wear the latest from the Nick Jonas fashion line."

"It's very high-end, you know."

"I know, but I have expensive taste anyway, so it'd work out."

He laughs, leaning against the wall across from her. "It's hard for you, too. Doing stupid shit when you should really be more involved."

"Yeah. I'm not going to give in to it, though. They could tell me that I have to scrub the toilets, and I still wouldn't leave."

"You want to be here that badly?"

"It's my job. It's what I love."

"And you'd love cleaning toilets?"

"No," she admits. "I love everything else, though. Traveling and doing promo and...the music. That's the best part. It always is."

"Really? Because, personally, I can't get enough of Joe's dancing."

Miley throws her head back in laughter. "Your brother has the worst sense of rhythm ever. Honestly, he's so bad."

And this, this is why Nick keeps getting drawn back to her. It's so easy being around her. It's what makes the uphill climb worth it each time they crash down.

"Hey," he murmurs, "I'm sorry about last night...and for before. When we were in your room and I was harassing you."

"You weren't harassing me. You were just asking questions. I was the one who snapped."

"Because of me."

"Because..." She sighs. "Let's just agree that it was a stupid fight, and that we're both over it."

"I'm over it."

"Me too."

A stagehand comes from around the corner, tugging at his headset as he shoots them a look. They watch as he goes. And as Miley's eyes stay in his direction, Nick turns around to see if they'll be interrupted again.

"He's probably checking to make sure the area's all clear," he says after a moment or two. "Joe'll be doing his encore soon, and then we'll have to leave."

"Right. I should probably go anyway. The merch booth usually gets mobbed at the end of the show."

"I won't see you at the hotel, then?"

She shakes her head. "I'll be stuck here for a while. I'm sure we'll pass each other in the morning at some point."

"Yeah, at breakfast or something."

"Exactly."

"Okay." He rocks up on his toes. "See you tomorrow, then."

He's barely a few steps away when she calls his name. Turning, he finds her standing in the middle of the hallway, her gaze anxiously darting around them. "About the other night—in Toronto—you were right."

If there's anything that Nick loves to hear, it's that he's right. He just doesn't have any clue what he was right about.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"About something happening."

His face flushes. "Oh. What—what did I do?"

"Nothing. Nick, you did nothing. I just left something out when I told you the story."

"I knew it. I knew that you were hiding something. And you lied to me."

She rolls her eyes. "I didn't lie. Everything that I said, happened. It's only that I—"

"You did something?"

This is even better than he thought.

"I did something. Well, I almost did something."

"Tell me," he says with a grin. "I bet it's a good story. I can tell that it's a good story."

"It's really not."

"Just tell me."

"I almost kissed you."

Nick draws back. Okay. So that would explain why he was feeling weird around her before. She almost kissed him. And he forgot but remembered all at the same time.

"I don't know what happened," she says. "I got you into your bed and went to get you a glass of water. I came back and you were just...laying there. Something went off in my head. I sat down next to you, leaned over—"

"And...?" he prods.

"And you woke up. Your eyes flew open. I jumped back, and you mumbled something. And then you fell back asleep."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Miley licks her lips. "I thought you remembered. When you were avoiding me, I thought you remembered what happened and it creeped you out. And then you showed up at my room."

"I didn't know. I mean, I figured something happened. But that...that wasn't even a possibility."

"It's still not. It was just a spur of the moment kind of thing. I was a little drunk, so I obviously wasn't thinking straight."

"Obviously," he repeats. Nick fights to keep his eyes on hers as he opens his mouth again. "You could've told me before."

"I was scared, I guess. I didn't know how you'd react."

"Well, I'm still here."

She nods. "Good. I'm glad you are."

"And if you...if you still wanted to kiss me, I'd still be here."

Miley swallows, her skin turning just a light hue of pink. "I'm not going to do that, Nick. I'm just...no."

Her hesitation only encourages him. "Would you let me?" he asks, stepping closer. "If I wanted to kiss you, would you let me?"

"No."

"Just once? Just one time to make up for Toronto?"

Her mouth tilts up to catch his. It's a brief, barely there brushing of lips. It's enough to feel. It's enough to change everything.

Nick pulls back. His nose nudges hers, trying to stay close. Wanting to get closer. Needing to feel her again.

"I'd let you," she suddenly breathes out. "If you wanted to kiss me again, I'd let you."

His hands cup her face, connecting them again before either one of them has a chance to second guess themselves. Not that they should. Because, he thinks, something that feels this right, shouldn't be wrong.

He kisses her slow again. Her lips caress his just as gently, trying to savor it. They both know that this could easily be the first and last time they're ever like this.

Miley's hands reach for his chest. He inhales sharply as they drift down past his ribs and stomach. They move for his jeans, targeting and tugging on his belt loops, pulling his hips to hers. It's overwhelming. The taste and scent and feel of her all at once.

Nick takes one deep breath in before pressing his mouth to the corner of hers. He feels her smile beneath his lips, and it only makes his heart pump harder. He sponges a line down her jaw and neck, stopping to suck lightly at her collarbone.

She arches her back, pressing into him even more. He sighs in blissful contentment, and then again as her hands leave his hips and reach for his own, pulling them to her waist. It's only then that he realizes that his arms were just hanging at his sides, too consumed with everything else to touch her on his own.

He's going to now. He rucks up the back of her shirt as her lips claim his again. Her skin is all warm and soft and smooth. And Nick won't be able to resist her anymore. He'll want to have her like this all the time, for as long as he can. As long as she'll let him.

Miley suddenly leans back with a gasp. "Someone's coming."

"Who?" he asks, voice all panicky as he glances over his shoulder.

"I don't know." She pulls her shirt back down. "I have to go. We both have to go."

"But this—"

"This stays between us."

"So it's not over?"

Miley pushes up on her toes, kissing him one more time if only to keep herself satisfied until the next time. "Go," she says. "We'll see each other tomorrow."

So Nick goes. He rushes around the corner, moving for the stage. The music once more seeping through his head.

It's when he's at the stage doors that he realizes that it's not Joe's music he's hearing. It's the notes that have been clashing around in his brain, now in perfect harmony. The flats and sharps and chords all together in one beautiful and unexpected symphony.

And, he realizes almost simultaneously, it's all because of Miley.