I roll over in the hotel bed and find Beau's side empty. Jumping up, I check the time knowing that there's a tight schedule for today. One that Beau especially has to follow, I curse myself for not setting an alarm, wondering what will happen if Beau misses the concert. Today's activities mainly revolve around me making sure Beau is where he needs to be, when he needs to be there.

So far, I'm late and Beau is no where to be found. Great.

I rush to the bathroom as I'm dialing Beau's number.  "Pick up, pick up, pick up," I mumble, getting the warm water in the shower started. He doesn't answer and I nearly stomp my feet in frustration. Please, just this once, let him be responsible this time. I rush through my shower as quickly as I can. As soon as I'm wrapped in a towel, I try Beau's cell again.

"Emma?" His deep voice answers above the loud sounds in the background.

"Yeah, it's me." I change into my underwear and a bathrobe, knowing Bobby and Maeve will be here at any time. "Please tell me you're at the venue for sound check,"

He chuckles and I can see his Cheshire Cat smile in my mind, "Look who's finally awake,"

"Beau, not now. Just tell me you're where you need to be." I groan, hearing a knock at the door. I run to get it, letting the stylist and makeup artist extraordinaries into my room.

"Emma, you look like you haven't even slept! You've got to work with me here," Maeve's purple hair bounces in wild curls as she shakes her head at me disapprovingly.

I give her an apologetic look but return my attention to Beau grumbling into my ear. "Yeah, I'm here. Believe it or not, I have done this before," I let out a sigh of relief and slump into my chair so Maeve can reach my face.

"Thank God, why didn't you wake me?" I ask suspiciously.

Beau's voice is soft when he replies. "You looked like you needed sleep," I bite my lip to hide my smile as Beau continues quickly, "When are you getting here?"

"One sec."  I mutter and check the schedule, noticing that I haven't actually missed that much. "I'll be there in time for the pre-show,"

"Good."

"Does someone miss me?" I tease, eyeing Maeve as she dabs product to my face. She continues working without missing a beat, completely tuning me out.

Beau groans and I know he's rolling his eyes. "Just get here, alright?"

We hang up and I close my eyes, letting the soft pulls of Bobby curling my hair relax my nerves. "Today's the day, Emma." Maeve smirks, digging through her products. "Let's show everyone those freckles,"

"Do we have to?" I mutter, aware that I've lost this battle before it even started.

"Yes ma'am, we do," Maeve chirps, practically dancing as she finishes the rest of my makeup, which isn't much. "Just enough to highlight the natural beauty," she had informed me. When she's done, I lean forward to inspect the false lashes, amazed that they look so natural around my cat-like brown eyes. My delicate nose turns up slightly and my freckles glare at me in my reflection.

Bobby fingers through the curls he just finished, leaving big, soft waves instead.

"It's a charity concert, much like a music festival," Bobby explains, laying out possible outfits he wants me to try on.

I nod, hoping to exude confidence. "Right, a music festival." Instantly, my mind comes up with two possibilities: Coachella, which I've seen on social media, and the little summer concert the town council puts on back home. I gulp, hoping there's some middle ground I'm not aware of.

Bobby clucks his tongue at me. "Girl, you've got a lot to learn," But his smile is genuine and I start to reach for the first outfit, a paisley dress with flowing sleeves. "I'm actually thinking that one," he points a long finger at a long skirt and cropped top. I sputter, hoping for something that covers more skin.

Still I get into the clothes, a long floral skirt that flares out when I twirl around, and a white tank that rests just below my breasts. Bobby begins stacking bracelets onto my wrist - some leather, some braided string, some bangle metals. He layers a few necklaces around my neck, varying in length and style. Some are plain thin chains, some have wider links, and a couple support miscellaneous pendants and coins. Finally, he helps me lace up my sandals, which are pretty uncomfortable. They strap up almost to my knee and I can't imagine ever purchasing them myself.

"Maeve," Bobby gets her attention when he's done. "What do we think?"

I spin in a slow circle, arms out to the side. "The twirl needs some work, but the the rest is boho perfection." She beams proudly.

I let a laugh escape my lips, having never imagined the words "boho perfection" would describe me. I follow them to the elevator and join them on the way down to the lobby.

Once there I see a hoard of people outside, many of them young women, anxiously awaiting something. "Who're they?" I ask, unable to peel my eyes from the crowd.

"MisFits fans, probably. Where the band goes, the fans go." Maeve shrugs, typing on her phone rapidly. I shutter, unable to imagine what that must be like, never having a quiet minute to yourself.

I thank Maeve and Bobby before they leave, and immediately call Val. "Emma, how're you feeling?" Concern colors her tone.

"Huh?"

"Beau told us you were sick - Fiona was pretty mad at first but she got over it, since it seems like you got Beau where he was supposed to be anyways."

Beau lied to Fiona for me? I shake my head and make myself focus. "Yeah I feel much better. Thanks. I just need help getting to the venue,"

"I'll send a car right now," Val says quickly before we hang up. Almost immediately, a text comes through letting me know the car will arrive in fifteen minutes. She tells me to use the back entrance and to ask the reception desk where that is.

Confused, I approach the desk and show them the message, explaining that I'm with the band. Hesitant at first, they finally take me down a long hall, past the kitchen, and through the service entrance, where a shiny, black SUV awaits.

I may have misjudged how long it would take me to arrive, I tap my foot impatiently as we sit in a long line of traffic. "How much longer?" I politely ask the driver, an older man in a crisp, black suit.

"We're about ten minutes away but ... with this traffic, maybe twenty? A half hour at most."

I lean back against the leather seat and type a quick text to Beau. Realizing he probably won't see it, busy with pre-show meet and greets, I text Val, too. Being late sure isn't helping my nerves at all. I'm not sure why - I play a small role in tonight's festivities. I mainly stand off stage to cheer on the guys and then accompany them to their after party once the concert is finished. Even if I had made the pre-show, the work falls mainly on Beau.

I hope he's behaving. As horrible as Fiona is, she does seem to know what she's talking about. As the concert got closer, the media ran more stories on the guys, but only a very few had to do with Beau's recent arrest. A surprising amount of articles instead tried to outline Beau and I's relationship to the fans.

Relationship, I almost laugh to myself. "Is this it?" I lean forward as we pull into a long street, packed with cars and throngs of people meandering across the road.

"Sure is." The driver answers, easily driving through, despite my nerves that he'll hit someone. Outfits much like mine flow past, while most of the men are shirtless, wearing only shorts and sunglasses. Food trucks line the large field, delicious smells carry across the light breeze in the air. "MisFits is at Stage C," the driver points farther down to the largest stage at the place. Already, people are packed in front of it, apparently not caring if they miss some of the opening acts.

As we make our way closer to the stage, I feel my nervous energy transform into excitement. I've never even been to a concert before, and here I am, about to watch one from back stage. My heart thumps loudly in my ear as the driver pulls the SUV to a halt. "Would you like me to walk you in?" He asks, his dark eyes twinkling in a friendly smile.

"Um," I peer out the window and manage to spot Val, running a mile a minute, with a clipboard in her hands. "I'll be okay, thank you," I smile brightly at the man and thank him again before hopping out and quickly making my way to where I spotted Val.

"Wow," I breathe, taking in the enormity of the stage. The sound crew, lighting team, and many others rush around me, paying me no mind as they try to make last minute adjustments before the guys go on. The guys - where are they? I pull out my phone and check the schedule - they should be wrapping up meet and greets now.

A wild holler that sounds much like Jace grabs my attention and leads me to the backstage area. Sure enough, there they are - posing for pictures and talking with fans as they make their way through the line. I notice a few mom-looking figures, and many young teenage girls with backstage passes around their necks. Surprisingly, the other fans remind me of Beau - leather clad, ripped denim wearing, and seemingly not enjoying waiting behind a group of preteens to meet the band.

I take my spot to the side of the room, but Beau notices me above the blonde head he's taking a photo with. His lip turns up at one corner, just slightly, and I wonder if the girl is the only one to actually get a picture of Beau smiling.

While I wait for the pictures to wrap up, Fiona joins me. "Miss Carter, I'm glad to see you're feeling better." She looks me up and down before focusing her attention on the band.

"Much, thank you." I keep my eyes on Beau. "I've thought about the offer,"

She turns her head to me, her red lips in a tight line. "Ah, what have you decided?"

I let out a deep breath, "I'm going to do it."

For the first time, Fiona smiles. "Well, I must say Miss Carter, that is a pleasant surprise. I will let Zara and Oliver know."

I nod at her as Beau finally breaks away from the guys to approach me. "You made it," he smirks.

"Yep," I notice the fans watching us and rise to my tip toes to wrap my arms around his neck. "Did you think I wouldn't?"

His hands settle on my hips as he places a short kiss on my mouth. "These are new," he touches the tip of my nose and I blush, almost forgetting that my freckles are on full display. "I like them," he whispers into my ear so only I can hear.

Fiona clears her throat. "Beau, good luck tonight. Don't let us down." When all she receives is a blank stare from his green eyes, she moves on to me. "Miss Carter, I do hope you enjoy the show."

"What was that about?" Beau asks, watching as she walks away.

I shake my head, "Can we ever tell with Fiona?" I feel bad for lying, but who knows what he'll do if I tell him the truth right before he heads on stage?

"Alrighty, boys, bring it in!" Zach's voice calls as the crowd thins from the room, fans rushing to grab their spots on the lawn before the show begins.

Beau tugs me along to their circle. "It's tradition," he slides a shot of tequila my way, mischief in his eyes, as the blare of the opening act sounds from the stage.

After a few more shots, the guys make their way to the side stage, and I follow. "Nervous?" I look up at Beau, who is suddenly very quiet.

As the loud speaker introduces MisFits, Beau's lips turn into a sly smile. "Please, Emma," he rolls his eyes over his shoulder, grabbing his black and red guitar. He winks, "This is what I do,"