Thoughts chased each other through her head, moving too quickly for even Rowan herself to know what the hell she was thinking. Her stomach twisted, uncoiled, and contracted again as she fell into step behind Kellin, slipping her hand into his and looking only at his feet as they walked. Kellin’s hand gave hers a reassuring squish but it didn’t do much to disintegrate the petrification whizzing around through her veins. She couldn’t locate the pith of the feelings, the fear and excitement and worry and terror and joy were divvied up equally throughout her in such a way that she had no idea of their origins and therefore no idea how to control them. Rowan gripped tight to her lifeline, bleaching out her knuckles and making Kellin shoot her a concerned look over his shoulder to which she simply shook her head.

Music was coming at them from all sides, washing over every cell in Rowan’s body and making her very bones vibrate with the beat, as the barbecue wafted their way with the most enticing aroma. It surpassed even her wildest imaginings, the laughter and conversations all mixing together into a soundtrack at such a high volume that it rivaled that of the booming bass. Rowan felt as if she were blinded by the artificial sunlight created by stage lights that made the twilit sky irrelevant as it appeared to be daytime. The amount of people seemed beyond belief, how could this many bodies even fit in one state much less one field? There was also a sense of beauty to the chaos, it was like some intricate painting depicting a million little things happening at once. She had yet to see a familiar face, regretting immediately not googling the rest of the bands to at least know who she was surrounded by, when they came to a stop amidst a group and she connected gazes with Vic. Her first thought, of course, was of the tee shirt and she felt a girlish grin twisting up the corners of her lips. Vic must’ve interpreted this as her greeting because he smiled back and excused himself from the conversation he’d been having to make his way over.

“Hey, man!” Kellin used his only free hand to half-bro-hug Vic, “Did we miss anything?”

“Nah, we only got here half an hour ago anyway.” Vic turned to Rowan, “Good to see you again, Ro.”

“You too,” Rowan surprised herself by making conversation without having to have the words extorted from her lips. “I was beginning to worry I’d entered some kind of alternate universe.”

He chuckled kindly, “Do you want something to eat or drink or anything?” Kellin must’ve given Vic some look Rowan couldn’t see as Vic rolled his eyes, “There’s non-alcoholic beverages too, Kell, I wasn’t offering her beer.”

Rowan froze at the word, realizing that there could very well be dozens of drunk people mingling in the massive crowd. She had to force herself to swallow thickly and paste on a smile, “Is there somewhere I can grab a water?”

“I’ll get it,” Vic offered, vanishing before she could get a word in edgewise.

“You alright?” Kellin’s voice was low, barely a notch above silent and nearly lost in the din.

“Yeah, just a little nervous is all.” Rowan felt him squeeze her hand again in a comforting manner just as Vic popped into being. “Thank you, you didn’t have to.”

“It’s fine, really,” he assured her, “these things can get pretty tightly packed, feels good to just move around every once in a while.”

“Still,” she finished, needing to be sure he didn’t feel obligated to do anything on her behalf. Kellin didn’t release her hand but he was engaged in conversation with someone else who’d appeared so she turned to Vic, “Is this what it’s like everyday?”

“Definitely not.” Vic’s expression was one of understanding, “It can be a little crazy every once in a while but for the most part it’s more spread out. There’s a barbecue each night but usually not this rowdy and not everyone comes every night.”

Rowan felt awkward, she felt as though she was taking up Vic’s time that he’d probably rather not spend talking to a kid. She nodded and thought of how to best tell him it was okay for him to go talk to other people when Kellin rejoined the conversation. “You two talking about me?”

Vic did a sort of snort-scoff-laugh, “You wish, babe.”

Rowan was suddenly reminded of the fan fiction incident and couldn’t hold back her own laugh, one much more hearty than the comment called for, which caused both guys to give her an odd look. Kellin arched a brow, “You alright there, Ro?”

“It’s– It’s nothing,” her words were breathy between her giggles. Each time she attempted to rein it in she saw them sharing confused looks and began all over again.

“Can we know the joke?” Vic asked, an amused smirk playing on his lips as he peered at Rowan cautiously.

“You wouldn’t want to,” she managed to wheeze out between guffaws.

“Try me,” Kellin challenged, relieved and confused at Rowan’s sudden carefree attitude.

“There’s a thing– I–” she held up one finger and caught her breath, they waited, exchanging looks, until she was able to talk. “There’s a thing online. Amongst your fans. Kellic.”

Kellin groaned and smacked his palm against his face, “You googled us didn’t you!”

“It was so disturbing!” Rowan was still trying to suffocate her laughter but it repeatedly bubbled up past her lips in little flurries, “The amount of detail and… Oh God, it was so vivid.”

Vic was laughing now too, the red Solo cup in his hand spilling over as he had to put a hand to his ribs and his face was reddening. “You probably don’t want to do that with any other the others you’ll meet either, our fans aren’t even the worst out there in the ways of Slash Fiction.”

Slash? She didn’t know exactly what that meant but the mere thought that there was worse out there than what she’d seen made her laughing that much more uncontrollable. “I will not be making that mistake again. Ever!”

“I warned you!” Kellin’s look was one of embarrassed and entertained.

The joviality subsided to a bearable level and Vic’s phone made a ping almost indistinguishable from the other ruckus. He pulled it out and frowned, “I gotta go, apparently Mikey’s broken into someone else’s bus.”

Waving goodbye, Vic was swallowed up by the crowd once more. Kellin turned to Rowan, seemingly trying to assess her mood by way of her expression, “Would you like to meet some of the other bands?”

Rowan hesitated, did she want that? What if these people were intoxicated? Could she handle it? The smell of alcohol was already tainting her every breath. But it would be much scarier to not know another soul in case she was left alone for some reason. She also thought of the reason why she wanted to do this in the first place, to get away from the Rowan she used to be: the timid girl with the steel-steady façade who never truly lived. She nodded, “Yes, please.”

Kellin gave her a proud grin, “If you feel overwhelmed or tired or anything, just let me know.”

She nodded again, allowing him to guide her through the bodies, headed to find whoever it was he planned to introduce her to. They passed so many people, so many buses. Rowan saw such an array of people just by weaving through the mass; some in bright colors, some in classic rocker gear, some in jeans and tees, even some in head-to-toe black who wore make up, most with body modifications of one kind or another but some who looked like your average random. It was the most exquisite thing Rowan had ever witnessed, and she would get to live it for the coming weeks. As suspected some looked at her curiously, probably thinking she was some obsessed fan or a kid who happened upon the party, but others just looked at her as she looked at them, free of judgement.

Finally they’d found someone Kellin had been searching for. Rowan realized this only as he’d halted and she hadn’t, meaning she’d run smack into his back, both Rowan and Kellin mumbled, “Ow!”

“Kellin!” The speaker, Rowan saw once she’d stumbled to Kellin’s side, was really tall, pale, with cropped black hair and dressed in black skinny jeans, finished off with a tee he’d cut into a tank that read ‘The Misfits’.

“Hey!” Another bro-hug. Rowan wondered absently why guys had to have a ‘special’ kind of hug. Couldn’t they just hug and get over the idea of wounding their oh so fragile masculinity? It was silly, really. “Andy, this is Rowan.”

Andy didn’t look at her as if repulsed or bored or even confused, he just smiled at her, making a ring in the left side of his lower lip gleam, and offered her his hand. “Nice to meet you, Rowan. I’m Andy.”

He didn’t seem incoherent, tipsy, or even slur his words, so she happily let go of Kellin’s hand to shake Andy’s. Andy noticed just how minuscule her hand was but his expression didn’t change at all, “Nice to meet you, too.”

“Andy’s in Black Veil Brides,” Kellin explained helpfully.

“Is this your first time backstage?” Andy asked in a voice that was surprisingly low and gravely, crossing his arms and regarding her as if her impending answer was pivotal to his existence, making her feel less out of place and much more important.

“It’s my first time near a tour ever,” she answered honestly, feeling a little ashamed of her inexperience.

“Seriously?” But Andy didn’t seem upset or aghast or anything of the sort, he in fact seemed excited by the idea, “Oh man, you’re gonna love it! I’ll make sure of it.”

He winked at her kindly, letting her know she didn’t need to be embarrassed. She grinned back, “I hope so. I’m really excited.”

“As you should be,” Andy tacked on, his smile still a mile wide. “So I guess that means you’ve never stood side stage then?” Not knowing what exactly that meant, Rowan shook her head no. “If it’s okay with Kellin you should come watch our show sometime. Seeing the crowd from our point of view is something spectacular, I think you’d enjoy it.”

Rowan looked up at Kellin hopefully and he of course returned it, “Sure you can. As long as he’s not playing when we are,” Kellin narrowed his eyes at Andy jokingly, “in that case Sleeping with Sirens is the better show to see.”

“Yeah right,” Andy scoffed, bending down so he was a little closer to Rowan’s height and talking to her in a stage-whisper that was still loud enough to be heard over the music, “we’re way better. You’ll see.”

Andy stood and winked her way again, making Rowan laugh and smirk at Kellin, “I bet so.”
“Hey! Mean!” Kellin threw a hand to his chest as if struck with a sword, giving Rowan an exaggeratedly wounded expression.

“That’s me,” Rowan added playfully, making Andy chuckle and offer his hand to her in a low-five.

“You just got owned, Kellin,” a third voice added. Rowan saw it was another man with dyed black hair, shaved on one side, who was covered in more tattoos than Kellin, Matty, and Andy had combined. He was grinning as he strode over, a pit bull leashed at his side.

“Shut up, asshole,” Kellin grumbled, his faux annoyance shattering as he smiled and, guess what he did, bro-hugged the guy. Kellin then turned to Rowan, “Ro, this is Ronnie. Ronnie, this is Rowan.”

“Hey, Rowan, welcome to Warped Tour.” He offered his hand and Rowan again took a second to look him over before reaching hers out to shake. “Are you here for tonight, or the whole circuit?”

“The whole thing, right?” Rowan directed the last bit to Kellin who nodded in confirmation.

“She’s along for the ride,” he stated, throwing one arm around Rowan’s shoulders.

“Who’s this?” Rowan asked, her eyes on the pit bull. He seemed sweet enough but she was still wary, Scott had one that tried to attack Rowan when she was seven but got run over by a car in the process. Scott blamed her for its death, obviously.

“This is Charlie,” Ronnie announced, “he’s really good, you can pet him if you like.”

Rowan knelt down and began scratching Charlie until his tail was wagging a mile a minute, at which point she giggled, “You’re adorable.”

“Y’know, you’re one of the few who says that. Most people freak out before he even has time to lick them.” Ronnie was beaming down at the pair as Charlie plopped onto his side and Rowan began scratching his belly.

“They’re dumb asses, huh, Charlie?” Kellin chuckled at the irony of Rowan’s mature word choice clashing with her cooing baby-voice.

“C’mon, Ro. You’ve clearly made a new best friend, time to eat.” Kellin’s smile was lost as Rowan stayed looking down at the dog, refusing for him to see her cringe at the thought of a meal. He sighed, apparently noting her shift in demeanor, “If these guys don’t mind you staying here, I’ll go grab us food.”

“Of course,” Andy replied, as if the need to ask such a thing were ludicrous.

“I don’t think Charlie’ll mind either,” Ronnie added, chuckling as the dog’s eyes closed in content and his tongue flopped out of his mouth.

Kellin dove into the mass of people, disappearing from sight immediately, and Rowan heaved a soft sigh of her own. The guys seemed to pick up on her suddenly dour attitude but didn't question her, Andy just smiled with half his mouth, “Wanna come sit with us? I'll text Kellin and let him know.”

It was better than sitting on the ground while multiple people tripped over her. Rowan nodded, “If that's okay. I don't want to intrude or anything.”

“Not even,” Ronnie assured her, his black-brown orbs studying her, “c’mon.”

Rowan stood and dusted herself off, following mere centimeters behind Andy for fear of being lost in the crowd. Someone cut her off, crossing between her and Andy, and she immediately began to panic. Her voice was inaccessible and she began to shake.

“Rowan?!” Andy called out, dread seizing him as he turned just in time to lose sight of her. Despite his height advantage, Andy could no longer spot her amidst the sardine-packed bodies, she was too small to see. He shoved with all his might, pissing off and confusing more than a few acquaintances, but even as he reached the place he was sure she’d last stood she was nowhere to be found. His fear mounting, Andy clapped his hand on the nearest shoulder, faced with Matty Mullins as the man turned to figure out who’d grabbed him. “Matty, have you seen Rowan?!”

“Rowan? As in Kellin’s Rowan?” Matty’s eyes tripled in size, “Why?!”

“She was just with me, someone cut her off and I can’t find her. I could’ve sworn she was standing right behind you a minute ago,” Andy’s usually relaxed attitude had vanished, his words smashing into one another to form some language that was less than English. Even so, Matty seemed to catch up quickly enough, instantly passing his red cup to one of his bandmates without ever losing eye contact with Andy.

“Where is Kellin?” Matty tried to remain as calm as possible but the vivvid memory of Rowan’s terrified, pained expression as the Quinn’s left his house days before seemed to be seared into the insides of his eyelids so that he was hit with the sight upon every blink.

“He went to get food, Ronnie Radke and I were supposed to watch her. Goddammit, Kellin’s going to kill me!” Andy raked a hand through his hair, tugging on it as his eyes constantly darted around the people surrounding, looking out for any sign of Rowan.

“That may or may not be true,” Matty responded, earning him a look of mingled outrage and fear from his companion. Rolling his eyes, Matty went on, “Right now, what matters is finding her. You’re more likely to live if we find her fast.”

Granted, Kellin wasn’t that much bigger than Rowan herself but just the way he watched over Rowan even in the safest of circumstances told Andy size wouldn’t stand in that man’s path if harm came to Rowan in any way, shape, or form. “I’ll keep looking,” he told Matty hurriedly.

“I will too. Text me if you find her first.” With that Matty disappeared into the mass, leaving Andy just as freaked out as before, if not more so.

Realizing he was standing there pointlessly, Andy began moving again. He felt as though he were trying to swim against the current in an ocean as he fought to shove through the crowd. “Rowan?!” He called at frequent intervals, “Rowan?!”

Not receiving any kind of response, Andy began tapping into conversations around him, still looking for any sign of her. Hearing another familiar voice, Andy paused long enough to get his friend’s attention. His bandmate, Jake, spun to face him, looking more than a little tipsy.

“Have you seen a girl around?” Andy asked, not really making mush sense thanks to his ever-increasing worry.

“Plenty,” Jake winked, “but seeing as we’re both taken I don’t think it matters.”

Andy had to resist the urge to smack Jake as his friend laughed, instead reminding himself that Jake had no clue how important this situation was. “No,” he sighed, his eyes scanning their perimeters as he spoke, “a little one. Like, not little, but really really small.”

“Andy, what the hell are you on? Are you seeing fairies or something?” Jake’s chuckles became full-on guffaws as he seemed to find his bandmate’s apparent hallucinations hilarious.

“No!” Andy groaned, his already paper-thin patience wearing thinner by the second, “A kid! A little girl! Brown hair, pale skin… big, blue, doe eyes that look like something from a painting–”

Jake’s amusement seemed to drain from his features like water leaking from a cracked glass, “Andy, you’re scaring me. What the fuck are you on about?”

“Forget it,” Andy concluded, already picking out where he’d go next with his eye-line, “just call me if you see a little girl.”

Jake tried to call out to his friend but it was lost amongst the pounding bass and various other people’s shouts. Andy continued to push through the people, stopping often upon seeing anyone even vaguely recognizable and at least a little sober to ask them if they’d seen her. These conversations, however brief, were nothing short of enigmas to both parties.

“Have you seen a girl around here? A little girl?”

“A little girl? Like Jenna? I–”

“No, no. A child, looks like maybe nine or so?”

“Sorry, man. Not me.”

Or sometimes—

“Hey, man! I saw you were on the lineup! So good to see you!–”

“Hi, no time. Seriously, has a little girl gone through here?”

“–I loved that new music video. Damn, dude, you guys really are going far. I wanted to introduce you to–”

“Look, we’ll have to do this later. I’m asking if you’ve seen a child. Yay high, looks like she walked out of a kid’s catalogue–”

“–This is the guy I was telling you about, sweetie, Andy Biersack. Andy, this is–”

“Fuck it.”

At which point he’d storm away as dramatically as was possible when said exit involved a lot of ducking and weaving. Or even, in one case—

“Hey, there’s a little girl missing. She’s tiny. Not like, this,” cue Andy showing his hands a foot apart from one another, “more like short.” Andy put his hand at hip level, exaggeratedly attempting to symbolize Rowan’s compact height,“Really short!”

“What?! I can’t hear you!!”

“I said: THERE’S A GODDAMNED KID MISSING!! HAVE YOU SEEN HER?!”

“Oh! Yeah!”

“Thank fuck! Where is she?!”

“Another guy just came through and said that! A ginger!”

“That’s really fascinating, BUT WHAT DID YOU TELL HIM?!”

“WHAT?!”

“I ASKED WHAT YOU TOLD THE OTHER GUY?! WHERE IS SHE?! WHERE’D SHE GO?!”

“OH! No, no. I haven’t seen her! Sorry!”

“YOU COULD’VE FUCKING SAID THAT IN THE FIRST FUCKING PLACE!”

—By which point Andrew Dennis Biersack was nothing short of catatonic. He had yet to receive word from any person he’d asked, from Matty, or even from Kellin. Checking his phone for the umpteenth time, an unknown number flashed on the screen.

The device was to his ear in less time than to took to blink, words tumbling in mismatched patterns into the receiver, “Please tell me whoever this is knows where Rowan is.”

“Andy?” There was a slight sniffle accompanying the small, feminine voice and his heart was in his throat.

“Rowan?” He was able to choke out, “Where are you? I’m so sorry– I, just, where are you right now? I’ll come to you.”

“I’m not sure,” she whimpered, clearly petrified, “I– How am I supposed to know?”

“Are you by buses? The stage?” Still with no idea where he was headed, Andy slipped between groups nevertheless, feeling too helpless simply standing still.

“I’m between two buses. I don’t know whose. One’s black, one’s gray.” Andy had to cup his free hand over his opposite ear and strain hard to hear her over the deafening sounds around them both.

“Okay, go knock on one of the bus’s doors,” he ordered her, “ask them what band it belongs to.”

“Okay,” she replied. Distantly Andy could hear the following conversation, “Excuse me, sir, what band does this bus belong to?”

“No fans allowed, kid. Now scram or I’ll call security.” To say the voice was muffled to Andy’s ears would be an understatement but it was still there. And at the end of the man’s sentence there was the distinct sound of a door being slammed.

“Rowan?” Andy called, now moving with purpose as he had an inkling where she might be.

“Yeah?” Her voice was now a mixture of scared shitless and infuriated.

“Give him the phone,” he demanded kindly.

Andy could hear her knock again, wait, and continue banging as no one had apparently answered. “Alright, twerp, you asked for it–”

“Here,” she snapped, and Andy next heard the driver more clearly.

“Lookie here–”

Andy cut him off with strengthening impatience and fury, “It’s me, you asshat. That little girl, if you can’t tell, is terrified. Now stop being a cunt and keep an eye on her until I get there or you’ll be out of here faster than you can say fired.”

Ending the call, Andy could now see the two buses coming into view and sped up accordingly. Just as he finally broke the surface of the ocean of people, Andy could hear a rattled little girl chewing out the grown man before her.

“–I don’t even care if I’d been a fucking Rugrat you don’t treat anyone who’s clearly been crying, especially a minor, like that! I give literally zero fucks who you are or who you think you are, that’s just inconsiderate and inhuman! You are a complete dickwad!–”

Andy couldn't help but chuckle at the baffled expression on Jeff’s face, knowing the prick deserved every word the girl hurled at him and many more. Panting from the exertion of his search, Andy leaned against the bus adjacent, mopping sweat from his forehead with the hem of his shirt and waiting to intervene until he felt the idiot had been reamed enough. In actuality, no amount of sense spewed at the guy would be enough in Andy’s humble opinion. Jeff had been Black Veil Brides’s driver for a very short time early on in their careers and —after hitting on every member’s significant other and getting so bombed that Andy himself had been forced to try driving a massive bus with no training— they’d had him so fired that he wasn’t, to this day, allowed within a fifty foot radius of any of the guys. Before Rowan even picked up on Andy’s presence, Jeff did, sending him charging up the bus’s stairs and slamming the door just in time for Rowan to finish him off with a—

“–Yeah, you better fucking run!”

Again Andy had to stifle his laughter as Rowan, chest heaving with heavy breaths, turned toward him and kicked a rock right at the bus’s door. She finally noticed Andy was there and immediately threw a hand over her mouth as if realizing what she'd been caught doing.

“Oh, shit,” she mumbled, then rubbed her hand against the nape of her neck sheepishly, “uh, sorry.”

“Don’t be!” Andy assured her, “Firstly because you had every right, secondly because that was awesome.”

Tear-streaked cheeks tinged with pink, Rowan looked up at him through her damp lashes and Andy was reminded what had set her off in the first place. Some unknown instinct kicked in and he rushed toward Rowan, kneeling before her to get a better look. She seemed relatively unharmed and he let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding in.

“Thank God,” he murmured in relief, “I am so fucking sorry, Rowan.”

She looked at him as if he had three heads, “What for? That wasn’t your fault. It was inevitable really, I’m pretty short an this place is pretty insane.”

She seemed much older than her looks suggested, much too sensible and much too intelligent. Andy was struck with a feeling of admiration for the girl as well as nostalgia as he realized she had much the same wise, abrasive attitude he was said to have had at her age. He still felt guilty and was determined to right this wrong, tugging his phone out of his back pocket once more. “I’ll call Kellin right now, I know you probably just want to go relax–”

“Not at all,” she cut in, “please don’t call him. It’ll just stress him out.” Secretly relieved, Andy nodded. “Let’s just go find your friends.”

He grinned at the suggestion, though Rowan could still see pity, concern, and sadness clouding the expression. Andy stood, dusted the dirt from the knees of his black jeans, and shoved his phone back into his pocket. “If you’re sure…” she nodded, giving him a small smile as she rubbed her sweater sleeves against her cheeks to try and rid herself of any evidence of her earlier distress, “then let’s try this again.”

Andy held out his tattooed hand in offering, but it wasn't as easy to meet the gesture this time. Holding hands with him gave Andy the power to drag her wherever he liked, she'd be too weak to fight it. Could she trust him? Rowan looked up into Andy's vibrant blue eyes and saw nothing but honesty. She reached out her palm slowly, deliberately, and Andy took her tiny hand gingerly, her small one engulfed in Andy's much larger grasp.

Now with something tethering Rowan to reality, she found it easier to dodge and weave through the melee. They squeezed between multitudes of groups to land in a little clearing. It was right in front of two large buses, a small circle of fold-out and camping chairs centered around two coolers. There were at least fifteen people here, some in chairs and others sat on the dirt in the nucleus of the protective bubble. Rowan wondered if this was what it felt like being brought to sit with a new group for lunch at a school.

“Guys,” at the sound of Andy's voice over a dozen heads popped up, including Ronnie's, “this is Rowan.”

At first no one spoke and Rowan was sure they were about to ask why the hell she was here and tell her to get lost, but then Charlie tore loose from Ronnie and came to nudge his head against Rowan's legs in such a aggressively, benignly passionate way that Rowan was knocked down, landing in the dirt on her butt.

They laughed and Rowan instantly felt like such a fool but Andy offered his hand to help her up and the words came flowing freely from various members of the circle.

“Nice to meet you–”

“–I'm CC–”

“–You alright there?”

“–Charlie doesn't even like me that much!”

Rowan was ushered into a spare canvas camping chair and sat down with red cheeks. Andy sat on the dirt to her left and seemed to clock her look of discomfort, counteracting it by telling them all to shut up, “Let's all tell Rowan our names you bunch of ill-mannered idiots.”

“I'm CC,” one guys said, repeating himself from before and giving her an energetic smile.

“I'm Craig,” supplied another, this one sitting on a folding chair beside Ronnie.

“Ryan,” said a third, raising his hand in addition.

Rowan tried to memorize all of them as best she could but the names came so quickly.

“My name's Max,” another proclaimed.

“I'm Ron,” Rowan had to do a double take, trying to look at him and make a note of things different between Ron and Ronnie so as not to screw up their names later.

“Jinxx,” that was a cool name, Rowan gave him a kind smile.

“'M Jake,” the guy beside the previous said.

“Ashley,” he winked at Rowan and she blinked a few times, trying to process it, before nodding and observing the rest as the introductions continued.

“I'm TJ, that's Kevin,” he jerked his thumb at the guy beside him who was on the phone. Kevin gave Rowan an apologetic smile for a second before returning his attention to the call.

“I'm Derek,” the guy two to her right told her.

“Jacky,” he was quiet but Rowan detected an accent in his voice and returned the small grin he shot her.

“And I'm Robert,” a guy with really curly hair finished.

“Holy shit,” Rowan breathed, making them all laugh again, “you aren't all in the same band, are you?”

Ronnie was the only one to explain, “Ryan, Ron, Derek, Jacky, and I are in Falling in Reverse.” Rowan remembered making a joke about their band name in the bus and felt her face flush all over again, “CC, Ashley, Jake, Jinxx, and Andy are in Black Veil Brides.” Still a weird thing to call your band. “Then Craig, Max, Robert, TJ, and Kevin are in Escape the Fate.”

“That makes more sense,” Rowan muttered, scratching Charlie's back as he came to lean against her legs. The guys all chuckled again and Rowan fought to smile kindly. It hit her that she was surrounded by men, most of which held bottles or cans of beer, and she knew nothing more than their names. Where the hell had Kellin gotten to?

“So how're you here, if you don't mind me asking?” Max asked, chewing the right ring of what Rowan thought were called Snake Bites in his lower lip, “I mean, I'd have killed to get backstage of Warped Tour when I was a kid.”

“Um…” This was it, the thing Rowan had been dreading most of all, how to describe what exactly she was doing here. “I'm, well, I’m–”

She was saved having to answer by Kellin's voice intervening, “She's my daughter.”

Kellin smiled at the words as they rolled off his tongue with ease, passing Rowan a plate that held fries and a charbroiled burger. He sat on the ground on her right, tucking into a plate of his own, and the others looked back and forth between Kellin and Rowan, probably trying to find some kind of resemblance or explanation.

“I thought your daughter was, like, two?” Jake asked, not harshly but plenty confused.

“That's Copeland, she is two,” Kellin peered up at Rowan, a silent conversation passing between the two in which Kellin asked for and was granted permission to explain, “Katelynne and I are in the process of adopting Rowan, in the meantime we're able to foster her.”

The group took this information in stride, seeming only pleased with the notion, and began chatting again.

“You're one lucky girl, Rowan,” Jinxx told her with a wink.

“Trust me, I know,” Rowan replied, grinning despite herself.

Things quieted down, conversations fragmenting into pairs, and Rowan was faced with the food in her lap. She picked up a fry, twisting it between her thumb and forefinger until it became mush and the potatoe-y center was squashed out. She couldn't do it. There were too many people. The idea of eating at all was one she was still conquering, she couldn't bring herself to do it in front of sixteen grown men, some of which were tipsy. She forced herself to gnaw on the end of the fry, making sure Kellin noticed, but as soon as he turned away to answer something Ashley asked, Rowan tucked a whole fistful of fries by Charlie's foot which he happily lapped up.

This continued, Rowan only actually eating about a fifth of the burger and maybe seven or eight fries but her plate was nearly clean thanks to Charlie's bottomless appetite.

The music began to soften until it was just a dull hum, people still talking as if it were blasting until they noticed, and there was the sound of a man's voice pouring from the speakers. “Hello,” conversations petered out but some were still going strong, “hey, it's the guy who signs your pay checks!” This brought forth a wave of laughter, finally most everyone's attention was on a man Rowan could see standing on a small stage at the far end of the lot. “For those of you who don't know, I'm Kevin Lyman. For those of you who do, don't forget to say I look like I've lost weight.” Even Rowan giggled at that. “Welcome to The Vans Warped Tour's twentieth birthday–” Kevin was cut off by a roar of cheers and whooping, “I'm so happy to see my summer family together again! I hope you're all getting to see your old friends and making new ones, this is the time to do that because soon you're gonna be asking those people to let you barrow their baby wipes to scrub down in the middle of a field.” Kevin smirked beneath kind eyes as the crowd chuckled in appreciation, a few calling out ‘Fuck yeah!’ and such, “In all seriousness, I better hear you're having the time of your lives because that's what this is. I created this tour all those years ago, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, for the sake of supplying all the outcasts including myself with a place to belong. On either side of the barricade, this is the place to come when you fit nowhere else, and I take pride in that. I'll let you get back to drinking enough to give you a wonderful hangover for opening day, but I'd like to finish by saying… This is going to be the best fucking summer of your lives, or else.”

The responding cheering was deafening, Rowan even had to jam her hands against her ears as she laughed, until it was drown out with the blaring music once more. As conversations kicked into gear again, Kellin turned to Rowan.

“You alright?” Rowan swore if he asked her this one more time tonight she'd implode. Still, he was only doing so for her own benefit.

“Yeah, I am.” And for the most part it was true. She was doing alright in comparison to how bad she could be in this situation, but at the same time she was far from perfect. She could feel the stares from passersby as if they were lasers trained on her skin. She pulled a small hair tie from her pocket and twisted it around her wrist, maintaining eye contact with Kellin all the while, and made sure it snapped against her wrist in an attempt to keep herself in the present moment.

“How old are you, Rowan?” It was Andy whose voice pulled Rowan’s attention, just in time too.

Rowan smiled kindly at him, looking down to where he sat to find Andy peering up at her as he sipped at a bottle of beer. “I’m thirteen,” she answered, not sure if she should be embarrassed about the fact that she was by far the youngest person present.

“God, you definitely don’t look your age. I thought you were like ten. Damn, you’re living the teen-dream then, huh?” Andy’s lips split in a wide grin, one Rowan was sure made plenty of girls faint on sight, and she tried to return it. In reality, she was far from having a dream life. Hell, her life had been one huge nightmare she’d been unable to wake up from. That is up until Kellin came galavanting in atop his trusty steed, armor gleaming and heart open, at which point she felt as if her life had become something from a movie or a cliched song, it was all so surreal and fast paced and often seemed much too good to be true. In any case she was sure that no person in their right mind would dream of living her life, no matter how magnificent the recent developments were, for even Rowan herself knew she was scarred by her past down to her very soul in a way that would never truly disappear, only fade into a sort of backtrack. “What kind of music do you like?”

Rowan wasn’t positive how to answer this either. She listened to everything Kellin had given her, which was quite a wide rage from indie-rock jams to scare-your-mama metal, and all of it had been enjoyable to hear. Did that mean she even failed at having an opinion on music, as she did everything else? “I don’t quite know what to tell you. I just got a good deal of Kell’s music and I like it all, which is probably pretty strange seeing as he has the most eclectic taste I’ve ever encountered.”

“Eclectic?” Andy let out a low whistle, “You may look young but you talk like I do, and I’m known for my well-above-my-age vernacular.” He smiled at her kindly before continuing with the earlier topic. “So, have you listened to the kind of music you’ll be hearing out here?” He continued, trying to help her un-fog the vague response she’d given him.

“I know for sure I listened to Kellin’s and his friends’ bands, Vic and Matty, but other than that I don’t know names well. Sorry,” Rowan stared at the hair tie as she twirled it between her fingers, occasionally letting it pop against her wrist with a satisfying snap.

“So that’s Pierce the Veil and Memphis May Fire.” Hearing Andy say the names immediately helped them click into place in Rowan’s memory. Another few names lit up too, a handful that she recalled seeing in the Artist’s list. “Any others?”

“I think I listened to your music, and Ronnie’s, and some others. There were also songs that sounded completely different to your style too, ‘indie’ music I think it’s was called.”

Andy rolled his eyes, “Kellin's a closet hipster.”

Rowan giggled softly, “And you are…?”

“Rock 'n roll, inside and out,” Andy winked and grinned wickedly.

“Damn!” CC's voice shouted above the rest, looking just beside Rowan, “Look at Charlie go! That dog can eat!”

Ronnie groaned, turning to his bandmates looking vexed, “Which one of you numbskulls gave Charlie food this time?”

They all protested vehemently that none of them had given Charlie so much as a crumb and all the while Rowan felt her blood run cold. “Letting the guys take the rap for feeding the dog, huh?” CC winked at Rowan jokingly, having no idea the riot he was about to incite, “You'll fit in great!”

To Rowan's horror, both Kellin's and Ronnie's eyes flicked toward her. Ronnie quirked up an eyebrow but Rowan could only shrug in response. Ronnie no longer seemed annoyed, his small grin assured her of that, but he still gazed at her in puzzlement. Kellin, on the other hand, looked up at Rowan with the eyes of a man shot through the heart. Rowan was ashamed to say the least, her own sight downcast as she murmured, “I think I'm ready to go back to the bus now.”

Kellin's eerie silence stood in stark contrast to the otherwise deafening racket pressing in on them from every angle. He nodded, one sharp jerk of his chin, and stood in a way that looked mechanical. “I'll see you guys tomorrow,” was all the farewell he bid them, wrapping his hand around Rowan's wrist in an inescapable bind.

The guys, now mostly drunk and oblivious (other than Ronnie and Max, both of whom Rowan noted never took a sip of alcohol), smiled and told Rowan they were happy to meet her and hoped to see her around the following day. She couldn't make herself speak louder than a whisper, therefore she settled for a forced grin over her shoulder as Kellin tugged her through the throng.

It felt like hours of slipping between some groups and shoving through others, Kellin ignoring every person who called to him, before they reached the bus. He rapped on the door in some odd pattern and it popped open, Kellin all but dragging Rowan up the stairs behind him. Only once the door was closed and they'd passed Cal, arriving in the deserted living area, did Kellin even acknowledge Rowan's presence as more than a pet on a leash. He slowly looked up from his Toms to lock gazes with her, his eyes clouded with what Rowan deduced was hurt. It was dead silent and Rowan wished desperately that he'd speak.

“Was it true?” He finally asked. She was wrong, hearing him talk did nothing to help the ache she felt from deep within herself.

“I–” she choked on her own words, forcing herself to swallow, “I'm sorry.”

Kellin began pacing, his hands in his hair as he traced and retraced the same span of three feet between one wall and the other. It was quiet again but Rowan's mind was loud enough to fill it with thoughts of embarrassment, shame, guilt, pain. He froze, his eyes squeezed shut as if he were about to get blood drawn and didn't want to watch, but she still felt as though he were staring her down. “I think I've done the wrong thing by bringing you here, you obviously aren't ready.”

It very well might be the truth but it wasn't what Rowan wanted to believe, “No! I am! I've worked so hard to be well enough to come. I just wasn't that hungry so I gave Charlie some of my fries!”

“Be that as it may, you still weren't planning to tell me anything about it and you know that's against the rules.” Kellin massaged his temples, seeming frazzled.

“It was only a little bit! I still ate. I would've told you eventually anyway!”

Kellin opened his eyes and they immediately began to burn right into hers, “How can I know that? How am I supposed to just believe that?”

Rowan, stung, stumbled a step back as if she'd been slapped, “What's that supposed to mean? You don't trust me?”

This seemed to strike a chord. Kellin became immobile as a statue, only his chest heaving with barely contained rage gave away he was living at all. He ground his teeth, his jaw taught, before finally walking right past Rowan and towards the door again. He paused there, his eyes on the hand with which he gripped the door handle, “Stay here, okay? I'll be back later.”

“Kellin, wait!–”

“It's fine, I'm not going to send you home. I forgive you.” But the fact that he had yet to meet her eyes again told her it was far from 'fine'. “I'll send one of the guys here to stay with you.”

With that he disappeared, taking a good deal of Rowan's already meager amount of strength with him. She felt numb all over, unable to move from staring vacantly at the spot where Kellin last stood, her eyes watering as she refused to even blink.

“He's just worried.” Rowan jumped a mile high, crumpling to the smallest ball the could manage to contort herself into as her childhood instincts took over. “Hey, hey, sorry.” Jesse rushed forward but then thought better of it and stayed a few feet away as Rowan slowly unfolded herself and peered up at him, “I didn't mean to scare you.”

He rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, looking around like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Rowan cleared her throat awkwardly as she pushed herself up to stand on shaky legs, “How– How long have you been in here?”

“Long enough,” he sighed, an expression of concern and pity coating his features. “He didn't mean it, you know? He's just scared he's doing more bad than good to you by letting you come. He doesn't want to hurt you more than you've already been hurt.”

The air grew thick as Rowan realized Jesse knew of her past. Her eyes flitted around, looking anywhere but at him. “Yeah, he seemed really concerned about my feelings.” Even filled with guilt and fear so potently that she felt nauseous, Rowan found a way to be sarcastic. Then again, it was her old standby. The only way she knew how to react to any such situation.

“He'll come back in here and be more sorry than you can imagine, I promise,” Jesse tried to reassure her but it was a futile effort.

Rowan was too unsteady to stand another second and dropped herself onto the couch, trying to slow the light speed thoughts that zoomed through her brain. Jesse slowly crossed the small room and took a seat beside her, leaving a wide berth between them.

“What's on your mind?” He tried to sound nonchalant but it was obvious he was worried about her.

“I'm not plotting my next suicide attempt if that's what you think,” she scoffed.

“I actually didn't, I just thought maybe you could use someone to talk to.” Jesse never raised his voice or acted pissed, he just stayed casual.

“I've done just fine for almost a decade and a half without anyone to talk to, I'll manage.” The acid dripped from every syllable, her arms crossed tightly over her chest and her chin jutted upward in defiance.

“That's cool, too. I'll talk then.” Rowan was itching to run away, to hide in her bunk or just wander around the empty space behind the venue for a while, but she knew Kellin would sic someone on her tail in a heartbeat. “Kellin might be acting weird right now and maybe even lash out, but his heart is in the right place. He's scared as fuck right now. He cares so much about your well being and he’s desperate to do whatever it takes to keep you happy and healthy. He's scared because his wife is at home battling cancer. He's scared because he's scared, because just like you there is very little that Kellin can't handle with sarcasm and jokes, he isn't used to this overbearing feeling of fear that hangs over his head like a cloud these days. But he's also scared by the fact that sometimes he forgets about the cancer, he forgets to be scared, and he can just laugh and act normal.” Each and every word burrowed into Rowan's heart and head as she was forced to realize that there was more than met the eye. “And you're scared too. You're scared to get better but scared to stay like this. You're scared to trust but scared to be alone. You're scared to try for fear of failing. You’re scared I’m right, you’re scared to be wrong. You’re scared of what’s to come and you’re scared of what’s already past. Moreover, you’re scared to let even a little part of yourself listen to me. So really, you and Kellin are in the same place here. You’re both just too scared to let yourselves see it. You’re both trying too hard to put up a strong front for the other’s benefit to see what each other really needs. Kellin needs to see your fear, and he needs to let you see his. But I know that me telling you this doesn’t do much because you are both so damned hard headed that you’ll keep on believing only you know the right way to help one another. That’s fine. I can tell even now that eventually you’ll crack just enough under the pressure of trying not to be scared that you’ll unintentionally let each other in.”

Jesse had stopped talking but his words rung in Rowan’s ears like the stretched out sound that follows a gong being hit. Echoing, they bounced around inside her skull as she tried desperately to keep the words from sinking in. It was quiet, both of them wrapped up in the moment, and Rowan felt the urge to bolt again. Her anger, fear, and pain were waging a civil war within herself but in the end her exhaustion won out. Knowing she couldn’t leave without giving some semblance of thanks for his efforts, Rowan gathered her shreds of self to muster up a response. “Thank you, Jesse. I mean, for trying. I know I’m a nuisance–”

“–Don't ever even think that–”

“–Just let me finish.” Jesse didn't look all too pleased about it but she was talking after all, so he stopped to listen. “I don't mean to act like… that. I don't mean to be a bitch, it just comes out. So, thanks for talking anyway.”

This seemed to be all she had to say for the time being and it was more than enough. Jesse knew better than to push her, he'd seen the effects not only that day but the very first time he'd ever met her. With a forced smile Rowan stood again, steadied herself, and walked toward the bunks. Just as she reached the door Jesse called out, “Goodnight, Rowan.”

Rowan gave him a fleeting look of gratitude over her shoulder, nodded once, and disappeared.

Notes

Roll-Call of Rowan's Rad Readers:
tiff
DarlingYou'llBeOkay
Juliette Quinn
Cin-D182
Jordan070701
petewentz
DanosaurRawrr

Wow. THANK YOU, GUYS! I honest to God wasn't fishing for complements or anything, I just wanted you to know how I was feeling but seriously... you guys pull through for me more than I even realized you could. Thank you all. I can't say it enough times... I love you all.

I see we have new subs and votes, WELCOME! I hope you are finding this to your liking :)

Here we are... what, at lest I, have been excited to see for a while... THE FICTIONAL WARPED TOUR! YAY! Seems like Ro got off to a rough start. Goddammit Kellin/CC/Charlie... Get your shit together guys!!

I think I only just now realized how much I curse... It isn't very ladylike... Then again, I wear boys clothes and don't have a real 'I wanna have your babies' crush on a single one of these fine-lookin' band members so maybe my girlishness-meter is off. Maybe I'm just made weird. I don't really know.

Anyway... I'm sorry this one's a little late. It wasn't that I necessarily had 'writers block' because I've known for months what most of my chapters will be about but for some reason I wasn't able to spout the words from my brain onto the page... if that makes sense... which it probably doesn't. Well, either was I am a million times sorry. I value your thoughts and opinions toward this story, outwardly expressed or otherwise, and I hate the idea of letting any of you down or any such thing.

In other news... No new information on Savannah other than the fact that they're assuming it was the Cartel that's taken her.

Um... I'm not sure what else to share... I've almost relapsed a dozen times since we last 'talked' and I can't really pinpoint why but I think it's one of the major contributing factors as to why it took me a while to update... I'm not doing too well right now. I'm not sure if any of you are undergoing similar issues but if so... maybe you could comment and we could feel this way in a little-less-lonely-little-more-together way? Or maybe you just want to read and not write and we can just send each other telepathic good vibes anyways. I sincerely hope none of you feel any such way but if so I hope that, unlike me, you don't keep it all to yourself. There's this song that says something that really struck me, I thought it related well to how I feel when keeping all of this in and how I hope we can feel towards one another in respects to overcoming it... It's Courage by Superchick:
You should know you're not on your own,
These secrets are walls that keep us alone.
I don't know when, but I know now
Together we'll make it through somehow.

Uh... I'm now over halfway through season seven of Supernatural...

I guess that's all I have to say. Other than the fact that I love you all, as cliched and idiotic and creepy as that may sound.

Much Love,
MM