Hello again. First and foremost I would like to say THANK YOU FOR OVER 100 VIEWS XD

The last chapter was not my favorite to write, I felt I didn't do it justice and I am sorry for that. That being said I had to include it, as it is very important to establish the relationship that Adam and Meghan have as well as introduce Rachael, and establish her character a little.

I again am sorry for how badly written it was. I'll have to go back at some point and try to re write it or edit it into oblivion, however I feel that if I put off getting to something exciting any longer people will defiantly lose interest in this work, as I myself am starting to get impatient.

Thank you to everyone for continuing to come back here and read, its really giving me the motivation to sit down and write out chapter after chapter.

Action is incoming so don't worry. Very quickly there will be a series of chapters chalk full of action and adventure, don't give up on me yet XD

As always feel free to Favorite and Follow, if you want to show your support.

Now onto the next installment

Afternoon Fun- Adam

"URRRRRRRRRGH!"

My guttural roar of frustration rang clear and true, reverberating around all corners of the sound proof booth. Echoing off the walls again and again, until finally fading into nothing but a dull hum and disappearing.

The room which I currently resided in was one of the schools many recording studios. The small, completely isolated room was created to be devoid of almost all out side sound. Thus creating a perfect environment for high frequency response recording gear.

Two sound sealed doors are the only entrance, a couple of different size and shaped chairs and a guitar stand are the only furniture, and a large, triple paned window is the only change of scenery from the white wash walls.

I had come to hate the room more and more with each passing second; the silence that seemed to taught and reminds me of my current annoyance. The window reflecting back every expression and emotion that crosses my face, mocking my each and ever failed, serving no purpose other than frustrating me even further.

Yet in that bloody room I continued to sit. The old white Les Paul that sat idle in my hands practically begging me to try again and again until I finally got it right. Edging me onwards and silently reminding me to not give up just yet.

"You suck sometimes" I mutter quietly to her, annoyed at her persistence. Even as I said it though, I was already putting on the recording headphones and making the final preparations of another attempt.

Pausing to take a few calming breathes; I again began the melodic harmony. The same one I had been working on all afternoon. The one which I had been trying to record, for the last four hours now.

At first the soft notes flowed perfectly from the old instrument, the different sounds being sung together into an impossibly complex rhythm, melding together into a tight fitting glove that quickly enveloped me.

Slowly though the pace quickened, the harmony quickly taking over and starting to drown out the soft melody. The main notes became crisper, louder, more pronounced, quickly started to over power all else, gaining more and more speed, until finally the piece reaching a deafening climax.

Punctuated only by the loud "TWANG" of a string breaking

"MOTHER FUCKER" I roared, almost smashing my guitar in a fit of blind frustration.

"Tap, tap" the soft knocking on the window, stopping me mid rage.

"Adam, you ok in there?" My professor's quiet voice coming slowly though the recording headphones, which still miraculously remained perched on my head.

Taking a few long deep breaths, I closed my eyes and counted to ten as slow as possible. Only trusting myself to answer after I had calmed myself down a small amount.

"Yah, though I am gonna take a quick break if that's ok" I responded shortly after, knowing that I could be heard through the recording microphones.

"That's fine. Take as long as you need" he responded again through the headset.

Placing Suzy carefully on the guitar stand beside me, I slowly stand, listening to my bones creak and joints pop as I go, stretching my arms us as far as they will go, before letting all my limbs go limp.

Satisfied with my stretch, I slowly make my way out of the recording studio, my body all but on auto pilot, my brain still recovering from the four hour long studio sit.

A wake up call was in order, I reasoned, letting my body move itself, muscle memory taking over for the time being.

Shuffling mindlessly down the deserted hallways, I soon find my chosen destination, the men's washroom. Walking in, I quickly make my way to the row of sinks, turning one of the taps to full blast. I let the water for a few seconds, ensuring it's the temperature I want, before capturing a large amount of it in my cupped hands. I raise the water to my face, closing my eyes as I do.

"Splash!" The cold water hits me square in the nose, slashing all over the place as it falls, snapping my brain awake, and jarring my senses for a moment or two. Eyes still closed, I splash my face a few more times to ensure I'm awake again, before quickly turning off the water. I lean over the sink, staring hole into the old metal sink, slowly collection my thoughts as the water drips off my face.

The bathroom is empty as well thankfully. Not a sound could be heard except for the water slowly draining, the small drips of water running down from my face, and my slow methodical breathing.

Slowly the frustrations of the afternoon pour out of me, the tension slowly letting go of my muscles, my body beginning to relax back into its natural state.

I needed more though, the stress that filled my brain refused to leave, the doubt that had built up all afternoon was again taking hold and keeping my brain all but locked up.

Letting out a long, tired sigh in defeat, I move to gathering up my strength again, before slowly start to stand up and getting ready to leave.

However just as I turn to go, something catches my eye. Something that stops be dead in my tracks, and demands my attention.

The series of mirrors that line the row of sinks, the polished surfaces, were reflecting back at me not myself, but a creature. One that's looks similar, and is even dressed the same, and yet is clearly not me.

I move to examine the creature, noting how the gray eyes hold a look of defeat, how the long black wet hair is plastered against his face, how the water is dripping down from his dark scruff of a beard, leaving dark stains on his black tee shirt. Noting how he is slumped over, his shoulders hunched and back bent, as if he is carrying the weight of the world on naught but his own. The person in the reflection holds a look of hopeless, of defeated, the look of a lost puppy, desperate to find home again.

"Who are you?" I quietly ask the creature in the mirror, the reflection starting right back at me.

"No one I know" comes the soft replay from behind me.

A relived smile fills my face as I look over my shoulder at the intruder.

Arms slowly snake around my body, warmth enveloping my entire back. A cute little head leans down to rest on my shoulder breathing slowly and methodically. I don't resist at all, no I lean into the embrace, relishing in its comfort.

I let Meghan's strong arms slowly pulling my away from the mirrors, away from the creature who filled them, away from the fear of who it actually is, and away the frustration that still fills my body.

Whenever I doubt myself, whenever I'm in need, she's there to pull me away from it all. There to pull me into her embrace and to comfort me, there for me to lean on, to lend me strength, if only for a second.

My body instinctively relaxing as she holds me, her head never leaving my shoulder for even a second, her soft breathing tickling my neck.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, a minute? A hour? A day? Time becomes meaningless as I allowed myself to get lost in her arms. Finding comfort there that I knew I could only get from her.

"You can do it" she whispers gently to me, as her hands play slow circles on my back.

"Thank you" I whisper back, slowly opening my eyes, having not even remembering when I closed them.

Slowly she releases me from her arms, her face filled with a sympathetic smile as she backs away. Giving my hair a small ruffle, before twirling gracefully on one foot and quietly retreating from the washroom, her presence quickly diminishing until it's again only me.

I don't know how she knows when I need her. I don't know how she knows where I am. Quite frankly, I really don't know a lot about her, yet I don't care. Words can't even come close to describing, how grateful I am to have her in my life.

It's a relationship that is built almost entirely on trusting one another, be it with information or our lively hoods. I have trusted her for almost two years now and she has yet to give me a reason not to. So until she's ready to tell me what is going on, I won't ask, trusting her to know when its time to explain.

For now though I'm content. Content in knowing that she loves me, knowing I can trust her with everything, and knowing that she will always be there to help me.

Slowly I turn to leave the washroom, but once again find myself look in the mirrors, again examining the reflection found there.

I note the long, messy, and slightly ruffled black hair, the large toothy, smile, and the hope that shines in its steel blue eyes. Seeing the relaxed shoulders, the carefree stance, and the look of fiery determination.

"There you are Adam," I mutter to myself, before quickly turning away, and making my way back to the studio.

Finally ready to complete the session.