AN: This could possibly be construed as a filler chapter…I still think it's pretty important. I wouldn't have written it otherwise. The next party's in the chapter after this.

Hope you enjoy this – thanks to those who have reviewed, although I'd love to hear from more people.

Love, Jude ;)

Just Ryan

Jen's party had been in June; Hamish's in September.

In October, Matt got a new girlfriend.

Sarifina Morales was a statuesque girl the same age as Becca and Matt – twenty-one – who had glossy hair a shade darker than Becca's falling in graceful curls just past her shoulder. Olive coloured skin, dark brown eyes and the slightest whisper of an accent, Sarifina was a dancer with a Spanish model for a mother and a father who 'owned vineyards'. She was beautiful, rich, graceful, clever and kind.

Jen hated her.

"Who does she think she is?" the girl hissed to Becca one day, watching Matt and Sarifina joking together on the stage during one of the breaks in band rehearsal. Jen had dropped by to watch, as she periodically did, and was horrified to see Sarifina there as well. "It's sickening."

"She's Matt's girlfriend," Becca shrugged calmly, without glancing up to the stage where Matt had his arms around Sarifina's waist from behind, was murmuring something in her ear to make her laugh.

Jen glowered at her best friend. "Let me know when Becca's back," she sniffed. "Ryan gets on my nerves sometimes." And she stalked off, leaving Becca staring after her open-mouthed.

"Is Jen okay, Ryan?" Jamie leant towards her, fingers twitching absently over the strings of his bass guitar.

Becca rolled her eyes. "She just doesn't like Sarifina much."

Jamie's eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips as he glanced up at the couple on stage. "Sure, she's hot. But she's not as nice as you."

"What have I got to do with anything, Jamie?" Becca was genuinely surprised by the amount of antipathy in Jamie's tone.

"I can't concentrate with her here," Jack growled. "She keeps making those stupid gooey eyes at Matt, and then she claps every time we stop. Why can't she just fuck off?"

"Maybe we should have a no-girlfriends-at-rehearsals rule," Chris mused.

Becca stared at them. "Jesus, what's everyone's problem with her?"

There was definite incredulity in their gazes as they all looked at her. "You're honestly okay with that?" Jamie jerked his head towards the stage.

"It's nothing to do with me." All right, she wanted to cry watching them up there like that together. But Sarifina was Matt's girlfriend. Becca had never been that to him, so she had no right to feel any resentment towards the girl.

"Jesus, Ryan," Jamie muttered under his breath. Before Becca could ask him just exactly what he meant by that, Chris interrupted.

"Matt, girlfriend time's over!" he called. "Get your ass over here for rehearsal." Sarifina trailed over after her boyfriend, and Chris scowled at the dancer. "If you don't mind, could you leave? You're not really helping." His tone made it clear that he wanted her to leave, whether she minded or not.

"Chris, what –" Matt began angrily, but Sarifina cut him off.

"It's okay, Matt. I'll go. She winked one dark, long lashed eye, tossed her dark hair with a laugh. "They're just jealous."

That was the wrong thing to say. "We've got our own girls," Chris growled. "Candy –"

"And Amy," Jack glowered.

"And Ryan," Jamie finished. There was a silence, as Matt and Becca's mouths dropped open in synchronisation.

"You…Becca?" Matt choked.

"What? No!" Becca shook her head violently.

"Don't be ridiculous. She's like my baby sister, dude. That's sick. But she's still one of our girls, right Ryan?"

"Um…"

"I'll just go." Sarifina sidled away. "See you later, Matt…have a good practice, guys. Bye, Becca."

"Can't you even be nice to her?" Matt exploded as soon as Sarifina left the room. "This is getting ridiculous. Can you –"

"Change subject," Becca interrupted. "Neutral." She was used to having to head off arguments between the boys; but this time she had the extra motive of not wanting to hear Matt defend Sarifina, state why she should be included.

"Right," Matt huffed. "Okay. Neutral."

"Neutral," Jamie agreed with an innocent smile. Matt glared at him.

"I was wondering…" Matt began. "This party in two weeks. Could we maybe not play 'Want to be With You' then? It's a bit…last time we played it – we played it," he clarified, motioning between himself and Becca, "it –"

"Sure, sure. It made you two jump into bed with each other." Becca flushed at Jack's words. "Awkward much with dancer girl? Haven't you explained your whole 'kissing friends' theory to her yet?"

"No, actually," Matt spoke angrily. "And I was going to say that it was the night of Hamish's party. The fire. I just don't…" his words trailed off helplessly.

"Are you superstitious?" Jamie demanded disbelievingly. The atmosphere was returning more to normal with Sarifina's absence, with the 'neutral' topic.

"Of course not," Matt grinned easily, suddenly calm again. "It's bad luck to be superstitious."

"Idiot," Jack groaned.

"Maybe we could change the song," Becca ventured. The memory of the last fire had her heartbeat increasing, throat constricting. Four deaths twice…these things come in threes…

"Sure, then. What to?" Chris's brows drew together as he glanced at Matt. "Maybe Matt could sing this one. Hinder's 'Better than Me'?"

"The one that goes 'You deserve much better than me'?" Jamie added. He glanced at the sudden flash of agony on Becca's face – a flicker of pain so fast even she didn't realise it was there – and shook his head. "No." His lips twisted up into a sneer. "Avril Lavigne's 'Girlfriend'? 'I don't like your girlfriend…'"

"Shut up, Jamie." Matt's eyes darkened.

"Even better," Jack muttered. "That song 'I know your girlfriend hates me'."

"Except we'd have to change it to 'I know your bandmates hate me'," Matt retorted. "Fuck you guys." And he stormed off towards the door.

"Assholes!" Becca snarled before darting off after him. "Grow up by the time I get back," she snapped over her shoulder.

He was already stalking down the sidewalk, and Becca could see by the set of his shoulders that he was furious. "Matt! Matt, wait up!" she called, hurrying after him, but he wouldn't stop, wouldn't turn to look back at her. "Matt." The girl slid to a stop just in front of him, slammed a hand in the centre of his chest to stop him from simply carrying on straight past her. He stubbornly refused to meet her eyes, his furious gaze fixed instead on a point somewhere above her head.

"Matt." She just stood there until his eyes flickered down in irritated acknowledgment, the normally warm chocolate brown suddenly darkly angry.

"What? What do you want, Ryan?" She flinched as he practically spat out her name. "Why don't you just go back to your precious band and keep on thinking of ways to make fun of me?"

"You think I had something to do with that?" It wasn't really a question. "Well thanks, Matt. It's good to know what you really think of me." Becca spun back around, face flushed with anger, to return to the rehearsal without him. She was so mad at him – and she heard him swear under his breath from behind her as he caught her hand.

"Becca, baby, don't. I didn't mean it, I'm –" Their eyes met, hers incredulous and flashing sparks, and he flushed red. "I mean…Ryan. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

The sickening weight in her stomach wouldn't let her smile. Ryan. Of course he meant Ryan. But that slip of the tongue – calling her Becca, calling her baby – had betrayed the confusion that they were both feeling. Their friendship, or whatever you could call it, was getting too complicated to just classify between Becca and Ryan, and the girl knew that they were approaching the point at which something had to change. Something was going to give and it wasn't going to be pleasant for either of them – but worst of all for Becca, because she loved him.

"They're idiots," she replied softly. He was still holding her hand, and for some reason Becca was uncomfortably reminded of how Soda Boy's fingers had felt around hers. She cursed herself for that memory; she hadn't seen him since the party last month. Nobody else really remembered him, and it was as if he'd disappeared off the face of the planet – again. At least she knew he hadn't been killed in the fire. That had been Graham White, a boy majoring in business studies she'd barely known. "They need to get over themselves," Becca added, tearing her mind away from the memories of that night and back to the situation at hand.

"I shouldn't have said Sari could come to the rehearsal," Matt sighed. "I know they don't like her much."

Becca didn't say anything. What could she say?

"I guess they're pissed that –" He stopped suddenly, his dark eyes on hers. Becca lowered her gaze quickly, not needing to see his expression to know what he meant and not wanting to see the concern, the pity. She didn't want Matt to pity her; she didn't want him to know what he meant to her.

"I think we confused them," she replied more cheerfully than she felt to hide the ache in her heart. "They never did understand the whole 'kissing friends' thing." Maybe I didn't either, she added. "You heard what Jamie said, I'm their honorary little sister and I'm guessing they keep thinking that you're screwing me over." Her laugh held none of the bitterness she felt, because she had to hide it. For Matt, for her own sanity.

"Becca…Ryan…" Her eyes leapt up involuntarily to meet his, to see the agony in them, and she cut him off.

"Matt, if you're going to say you're sorry, don't," she told him with mock cheerfulness. "She's your girlfriend. I haven't spoken to her that much, but she seems okay. And I'll talk to the others, make sure they don't fuck it up for you."

"Thanks. Are you –"

She couldn't bear to hear the words she knew he was going to say. Knew him so well she could predict what he was going to say sometimes, but at other times she could never tell what he was going to do. "Don't worry, Matt. It's not like I'm your ex or anything." She was perfectly clear on the fact that they had never been, would never be, together, although that didn't stop her fingers drifting unconsciously up to rub over the spot on her neck where he had marked her last time they'd slept together. He'd never done that before, never left any physical mark of their being together. It had long faded now; along with her momentary hope that he had perhaps wanted others to know that she was his.

"Thanks for being here, Ryan." His arms drew her into a hug and she rested her cheek against his chest momentarily, revelling in the close contact even though she knew it didn't mean the same to him. She was Ryan; just Ryan.

"I'm always here, Matt." She barely managed to keep the bitterness out of her tone, must have succeeded because he chuckled, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she looked up at him.

"That's good to know, Becca. You'll always like me, then?" She was imagining the note of self-mocking in his tone, imagining that his arms tightened around her and that his dark eyes were pleading with hers as though beseeching her to say otherwise.

"You're wrong about that. I hate you." He let out a throaty chuckle, and since she was there anyway pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose.

He didn't know how truthful she was being. She loved him, but there were times when she hated what he could do to her, hated that he never seemed to see the effect of his actions. Like inadvertently calling her Becca when it didn't mean anything more to him than Ryan.

She wanted, more than anything, to move on, to stop feeling like she was forever hanging around waiting for him to notice her, waiting for him to need her as she needed him.

"Yeah, thanks. I love you too, Becca." There he went again with the Becca. His total nonchalance as to how she was feeling, how much it tortured her to hear him say those words and know that his love was purely in the platonic sense, that he had a girlfriend. She hated him, but nothing in the world would make her pull away from his arms, reject whatever crumbs of him she could take.

She was such a masochist.

"Back to rehearsal, then? Or do you just want to blow this one?"

"I'll come." Their hands linked with easy friendship, her fingers curling around his in return automatically. "Sorry for being such a jerk. I'll play whatever Goddamn song they want me to."

"No." Damn it, she might hate him sometimes but there was no way she could watch him suffer. Masochistic, maybe, but she wasn't a sadist – particularly when it came to Matt. "We'll think of something, they were way out of line."

"'I know your bandmates hate me…'" Matt sang in mock-soprano, and Becca giggled.

"Not that," she told him firmly. "It's a good song and all, but it's not the sort of thing I'd sing."

"Sure, got to listen to the lead singer." Matt grinned down at her. "Know any songs we all like that you'd want to sing?"

She couldn't help but smile back at him. Walking hand in hand, smiling at each other, she knew how they must look to outsiders. "I was thinking maybe that Bon Jovi song. 'It's my life'…?"

Matt nodded his approval. "It's a good song."

"It's my life, it's now or never," they sang together as the pair of them made their way back into the room where the rest of the band waited, voices melding together with the ease of long practice. "I ain't gonna live forever…"

I do not own the songs or lyrics to the following songs mentioned in this chapter: 'Better Than Me' (Hinder), 'Girlfriend' (Avril Lavigne), 'I know your girlfriend hates me' (Annie), 'It's My Life' (Bon Jovi).

Please review ! Love, Jude ;)

P.S. The next chapter's called 'Third Time (Un)Lucky'…and things definitely start getting interesting.