Kurt was sitting in the first row of seats, legs propped on the railing in front of him and his gaze was slowly taking in everything around the arena. There was somewhere around twenty thousand seats here and he couldn't believe that twenty thousand people were going to come to see him play no matter how hard he tried to wrap his mind around it. Everything had happened so fast. It was faster than the blink of an eye. He'd spent nearly ten years playing in the little grungy bars, going through bandmembers quicker than bottles of tequila during some stretchesand now this. Big Time. Now they were the main draw. From the opener to the main act. Beer nuts to filet mignon. In maybe three months' time.

Talk about blowing up. A chance meeting with a record exec during a show in Buffalo and look where they were now. It was crazy. The man had just stopped by the bar for a cold beer after a day at work during the middle of their set and that was it. The past was the past and now they were big time. No more scratching out a living.

Kurt looked around the arena again, still not able to believe that in a few hours it would be packed to the rafters with fans coming to see them. His eyes danced from the small dais with the control board on it a few yards away from him to the stage and then up to the scores of lights that hung from the ceiling. He opened his bottle of water and took a long drink. Were those nerves creeping in now? Kurt smiled as he screwed the lid back on. Better not be. The time for nerves had passed.

"Check. Check. One two. Check one two." Kurt's attention was drawn to the stage were some of his roadies had started their sound checks. He watched and listened as his men put the equipment through its paces. Some of them weren't much older than his own kids and were probably more talented than he was. He stretched and stood up. It was about time to head on back to the dressing room and get ready, he figured. The doors would be opening soon and he didn't want to be sitting around down here when everyone started filing in.

"Kurt! Where have you been?" He had made it about half way back to their green room through the honeycomb of tunnels and passages when their manager came running down the hall at him.

"Hey Sandy. I was sitting around, thinking about stuff. Trying to clear my head before the show."

"I've been looking for you for about the last half hour, Kurt. Your wife called and you need to call her like yesterday." She looked every bit the no-nonsense girl at that moment.

"Any idea as to what she wanted, Sandy?" Probably wanted to wish him luck for the first show, he thought.

"I don't know, Kurt. She sounded pretty upset, though. It was hard to make out everything she was saying." Kurt frowned as Sandy tossed him his cell phone. "If you'd have kept this with you I wouldn't have spent all that time tracking you down, you know."

"Thanks. I just needed some time to get myself ready, you know? This is it! This is what I've been waiting for." And what got me divorced, he thought wryly. After she nodded and gave him an eye roll he continued on towards their room as he tried to figure out how to make the phone work. While he punched buttons he wondered what it would take to get Carey, normally the most unflappable woman he'd ever met, to get that worked up. He'd taken three steps when it hit him. The boys. It had to be something with the boys. He stopped in the middle of the hall and punched in their number.

Carey was standing next to the kitchen counter when the phone rang. There were police officers, both uniformed and plain-clothed, all over her apartment and she was doing her best to stay out of their way. Before she could even make a move toward the phone half of the officers raced to activate the recording and tracing equipment. She picked the handset up and waited until she got the 'ok' signal before she hit talk.

"Hello?"

"Carey? It's Kurt. What's going on?" Kurt's voice said through both the speaker sitting on the table and her ear.

"I..I tried to call you earlier, Kurt," she said with a wavering voice.

"I was sitting in the arena. Trying to get myself ready for the show, I guess. Now tell me what's going on. Sandy said you sounded upset." He didn't like the tone in her voice.

"Kurt...Something's..." she paused for a few breaths to try to collect herself. "Something's happened to Zack."

Kurt leaned against the wall. "Calm down, Carey. What happened to Zack?" He squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Knowing Zack, it could be one of no less than a billion things.

"He's missing."

"He's what? Missing?"

Carey's voice was breaking as she tried to keep herself together. "He's missing. He went to the mall to meet a friend and never made it."

"Have you called the police, Carey?"

"Of course I've called the police!" she yelled. "There's...I don't know, a bunch of them here right now asking questions and taking statements."

"Of course you called the police. Sorry. Of course you did. That was a stupid thing to say. I'll be there as soon as I can, Carey. As soon as I can get to the airport and get them to get the jet ready."

They spoke a few more minutes, mostly him trying to calm her down and get as many details as he could between outbursts, and they ended their call as Kurt walked into the green room. The rest of the band were laying around the room, sprawled out on the various couches and chairs, talking and eating and drinking. He walked in and headed straight for his suitcase and started tossing clothes into a duffel bag.

"Hey, Kurt, whatcha' doin'?" One of his bandmates called to him with a mouthful of bologna sandwich. "Kurt?" He asked again when Kurt didn't respond.

"I have to go," he said as he looked around for his jacket.

"What do you mean you have to go? We play in less than two hours. Remember? Opening show on the tour and all that? Our big break?"

"What do you have to do that's so important?" Another member of the band asked. "What's bigger than this?"

Kurt stopped what he was doing and counted to five. He forced himself to calm down before he turned around since he didn't have the right to take anything out on the guys. "I have to go to Boston. Now."

"Boston? Boston? We're playing in Detroit tonight, Kurt. What's so important in Boston that you're going to skip out on our biggest show yet? Fuck Boston."

Kurt had turned and was across the room before the guy could take another breath. "My family is in Boston and one of my boys is missing and..." Kurt found his hands entwined in his drummer's shirt collar and he made himself let go. "Sorry." He smoothed the wrinkles away. "So fuck the show, I'm going home."

There wasn't much sound in the room as Kurt slid his jacket on and slung the bag over his shoulder. The four guys watched as he zipped up and walked to the door.

"What are we supposed to tell everyone?" A voice spoke up as he reached the door.

"Tell them I have a family emergency. Tell them to reschedule. Tell them that the Queen of England called and I have to save the world. I don't care. I have to go." Kurt let the door swing shut and hurried along before anyone else could stop him. Voices rose from behind the door as the others began to debate but he ignored them. Kurt adjusted the bag's strap more comfortably on his shoulder and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

One of the biggest perks of being signed to a major label, as far as Kurt was concerned, was the fact that they had a private jet sitting at the airport. No more trucking along from gig to gig in a rusty old van. By the time Kurt was in a cab on his way to Detroit-Metro the plane was waiting for him. Celebrity had its advantages. Not all that many, but definitely a few. He looked out the window as the buildings and cars passed, wanting to be back in Boston already. He'd trade all the perks to be back home with his ex and two boys, though. In a heartbeat.

By the time the plane finally landed Kurt couldn't get out and down the stairs fast enough. He went through the terminal as fast as he could push his way through the crowds, thankful that he only had the bag over his shoulder and didn't have to wait an eternity in the baggage claim. He made haste for the line of cabs that always sits outside of each and every airport and opened the back door of the first in line.

"Where to, mister?" The cab driver asked as Kurt tossed his bag in and shut the door.

" The Tipton Hotel. And there's twenty dollars in it for you if you can do it in under twenty minutes."

"In a hurry, mister?"

"Very."

"Then buckle up and get that money ready because I'll get us there in fifteen," the man told him as he shifted into drive and pulled away from the curb.

"Fifteen'll get you thirty," Kurt said as he settled back against the pockmarked fabric. Normally that little joke would have brought a smile to his face but this was not the time and he regretted he's said it that way.

"Sold." Kurt saw the man's eyes in the mirror for a split second before he felt the car accelerate and pull out into traffic.

Sorry it's been so long but I've been stupid busy for about the last month or so. Hopefully things are going to settle down now and I can actually write again.