The first thing Beth wants to do is celebrate.

It's not like she wants to invest too hard into Killian, but he sells himself well and she can't help the trickles of hope in her chest. Regardless of what she thinks, what he said is true. What is it going to cost her? Possibly it's already cost her someone dear to her heart so what more does she have to lose?

So, she wants to celebrate. Problem is, as she comes to a stop on the busy corner outside the record company, she realises she doesn't actually have any friends and right now, she doesn't have a job. It's not like Daryl's explicitly sacked her, it's more that she's too chicken shit to go to the club and face him.

So, no money to blow and no friends. Wow. When did her life become so narrowed? It's like she met Daryl and she learned to love Merle and her whole life was sucked into them. The club and her boys, the TV on a Saturday night. That's all she's become and she can't devote herself to Daryl if she doesn't even know the person she is.

What can she offer him without knowing herself? Beth crosses her arms to fight off the bitter cold. A hot cocoa is what she needs and the only person she can think of to share a hot cocoa with isn't very far from here. She smiles softly as she takes out her phone and scrolls midway to the 'M's, selecting her sisters name.

Maggie answers on the third ring. "Hey, Bethy."

"Hey," Beth smiles. "I got some real big news, you wanna meet up?"

"Actually yeah, I'm off today, but Glenn's not. Come over?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Hey!"

Beth grins at Maggie's enthused greeting, throwing her arms around her sister. "Hey."

When she looks up, Maggie smiles and pulls away, eyes sparkling. "So what's this big news? Did… did Daryl propose?"

Beth's grin freezes; then breaks and all of a sudden she's sobbing.

"Hey," Maggie hushes, pulling her inside and shutting her apartment door. "What's happened, Bethy? You okay?"

Beth sniffles and straightens, wiping at her face with her coat sleeves. "I think me an' Daryl are over Mags."

Her older sister frowns and nods her head towards the open plan kitchen. "C'mon, let's talk."

Beth nods and follows her, shredding her coat and beanie hat over the arm of the sofa. Her hands are frozen from not wearing gloves and they ache when after a minutes silence, Maggie slides her a cup of coffee to cradle.

Taking a seat at the bar opposite from Beth, she cradles her own coffee and smiles softly. "Wanna talk 'bout it?"

Beth snivels, feeling sorry for herself in her sister's company and curves over her coffee, staring at it as she talks. "A recruiter spoke to me, from a record label. Said he wants to sign me."

"What?" Maggie breathes in surprise. "Beth, that's amazin'! This is everythin' you've always wanted!"

"Yeah," Beth agrees, looking up with her eyes watering. "'Cept I hadn't met Daryl yet."

Maggie gives a sympathetic smile, her bottom lip curling into her teeth. "You guys broke up? 'Cause of this?"

Beth nods, blowing on her cup. "He tried to keep it a secret from me. We argued over it. He says he don't wanna lose me."

Maggie hums as she sips her drink. She only answers when she puts it down, turning it so it fits her palm. "He shouldn' have kept it from you, Bethy. He can't control you like that."

Beth frowns, hating the judgement in her sister's tone. "He wasn't, Maggie. He was just scared. I think he loves me."

"Do you love him?" Maggie asks softly. Beth covers her face with her hand as she cries, her sister's palm descending on her head to stroke it. "You do."

"Yes," Beth moans through a thick sob. "God, I don't know what to do. M'so lonely without him, Mags. I miss him so much."

"So talk to him," Maggie encourages. "Tell him how you feel."

"You don't understand," she pauses, swallowing away a sob. "The last time I saw him… felt like goodbye."

Maggie soothes her silently, stroking her hair. When Beth sits up, rubbing down her wet face once more, her sister is wearing a sassy smile.

Beth narrows her puffy eyes. "What?"

"Make him pay for it," she says quietly, hunching closer. "Don't call, don't text. Let him come to you. If he's really scared 'bout losin' you, Beth, he'll come. to you."

Beth chews her liphip, a tiny, egotistical part of her agreeing with this plan, wanting to see how much he gives a shit about losing her.

"I can't," she says, giving up the fantasy. "That's playin' games an' I don't wanna be immature 'bout it."

Maggie scowls, leaning back now and looking as gorgeous as she always does. "This ain't games, Beth. You wanna know if he truly gives a fuck? You drop off the face of the earth and see if he scours it for you."

Beth nods slowly, considering it again. Maggie has a point. Daryl knows where she stands,stands; he knows that she still wants to be with him. It was him that left her bed after fucking her delirious, him that kept secrets and then came begging at her door drunk. If she does this, then she knows where he stands too because the truth is, right now, she doesn't.

The weeks pass into each other like a hazy film over Beth's brain. She's swept up in recording studios and tours and gigs, fans she didn't know she had, an ache in her cheeks from all of the photos she's posed for, her phone blowing up with people in love with her music. She's finally got home and just stopped, thinking about that conversation with Maggie about making Daryl pay.

Daryl.

The boyfriend that hasn't called her for three weeks. The boyfriend who hasn't text, who must have seen her gaining popularity and didn't comment on it. The boyfriend who could be her ex-boyfriend. The boyfriend that she's about to see after so long of not seeing him, stood at his apartment door with her heart in her mouth.

Her hand literally shakes when she knocks, the sound so loud in her ears it's obscene. Merle already knows she's here since she rang the buzzer. By this point, he's told Daryl and all she's praying for is Merle not to give some shitty excuse about Daryl being sick or some other bullshit excuse that means he can't come to the door.

The door swings open and before she can even open her mouth, Merle says, "he ain't here."

Beth blinks, taking him in. "Hey, Merle."

"How'y doin' scream'a? Hollywood treat you good, huh?"

She smiles. "Ain't made it there, yet."

"Only matter of time," he grunts.

Beth grins, throwing herself forward to hug him. He grunts again and awkwardly pats her shoulders. "Alrite, alrite, you only been gone couple weeks. You women, so dramatic. Ol' Merle ain't dead yet."

She rolls her eyes but secretly devotes her gratitude to Merle's unwavering ability to get out of an emotional situation. Blinking away the moisture fighting to pool into her eyes, Beth clears her throat and folds her arms. "He really ain't here? You swear?"

Merle mimics her, folding his own arms over his chest. "Yep. He's down at the club. Been there for all the time you were gone, barely comes home."

She bites her lip, guilt eating her alive. "Is he okay?"

"Okay?" He laughs. "Nah. Pretendin' he is? Oh yeah, doin' it like a champ."

Beth winces. "I'm gonna find him."

She turns to leave when Merle calls her back, but not by her usual nickname. "Beth."

Her stomach drops like he aimed a gun at her. He's so damn serious when she looks at him that it makes her a little woozy. "Go easy on 'im, alrite? He cain't take much more."

She nods, swallowing. "Thanks for lookin' after him, Merle."

Merle scoffs, shaking off the serious face. "Gotta. He's my littl' broth'a. Stuck with 'im."

She smiles softly. "I know. You're a real saint, Merle Dixon."

He actually smiles.