I sip my wine slowly, taking in yet another hotel lobby. No matter where we land, they pretty much all look the same. This one is much like the others, glossy marble floors, high ceilings accentuated by crystal chandeliers, people that greet you at the reception desk with trays of champagne.

Fiona had told everyone we needed to have a meeting once we checked in. Still not speaking to Beau, I reluctantly unpacked my things in our suite, aware that his eyes followed me almost everywhere I went. Curious where he spent the night last night, I bite my tongue, still too angry to start a conversation with him.

Finishing off my glass, I check my watch impatiently. Not speaking made Beau and I more efficient and we'd gotten down to the lobby before everyone else. Twisting his guitar pick between my fingers, I stare straight ahead, doing my best to ignore his persistent gaze.

"You're really not going to talk to me?" He finally asks, picking at his chipped black nail polish.

Going off of no sleep, I'm unable to hide my irritation and snap at him. "You're really not going to apologize to me?"

Beau shifts his weight so that he faces me on the sofa, trying to meet my eyes. "Emma, I already told you, it was nothing. It was just a party - we're on tour, I have a role to play here."

I scoff, thinking of how much trouble this "role" has gotten him into. "You think your job gives you the right to disrespect-" I falter slightly, my sadness creeping up on me. "Your band? Your friends? Your fans?" I recover. Finally, looking up to him, my voice softens, "Me?"

"It's not like that," He shakes his head stubbornly, long hair hanging in front of his eyes.

"I don't know, Beau." I shake my head, too, and let out a deep sigh. "If this is who you have to be on tour, maybe we should just go back to pretending all together."

Beau's mouth pops open in surprise, but before he can respond, we're joined by Zach and Tyler who seem almost as uncomfortable as we are. "Hey Emma," Zach still offers a small smile. "Wonder what this is about?"

His effort at conversation is squashed as Tyler grunts in disgust. "We know what it's about, man. There's only one thing it's ever about anymore," he squints at Beau accusingly, his boyish features hardened with irritation. To be fair, ninety percent of meetings now a days are about Beau messing around, but I don't say anything.

Nostrils flaring, Beau replies as sarcastically as ever. "Poor Tyler has to go to a band meeting every once in awhile, life is just so hard,"

"Whatever Beau, it's your job, not mine." Tyler crosses his arms over his chest as Zach lets out an exasperated huff and leans his head back against the armchair. Too tired to listen to their bickering, the sight of Jace making his way to the table confirms my decision.

"I'll be back when Fiona gets here." I say flatly, making my way to the bar just on the other side of the large marble columns dividing the entry space. After another quick glass of wine, Fiona, Val, and Rocco arrive and I rejoin the group, the guys all sitting side by side and glaring into their laps silently like a group of students waiting outside of the principal's office.

"Now that everyone is here," Fiona eyes me pointedly before returning her gaze to the rest of the group.

I cut her off before she can continue, in no mood for her usual attitude today. "I was here before."

"Excuse me?" Her piercing blue eyes meet mine through her glasses but I don't back down, well aware that my behavior is not professional.

"I've been waiting at the bar for everyone else to get here." I shrug, knowing it's not worth arguing over but unable to help myself.

Pursing her lips, Fiona nods. "Very well. Let's begin." She nods to Val, prompting her to take notes. Shifting her glance to Beau, Fiona starts the meeting. "Mr. Lewis, your behavior during this tour has been completely unacceptable." Beau rolls his eyes but Fiona continues undisturbed. "The cost of repairing your hotel suite alone, never mind the equipment you have destroyed during shows, is outrageous. Add the bad publicity of being thrown out of, how many clubs has it been now? And your latest stunt, of physically throwing things at fans-"

"It was fucking water," Beau raises his voice, "And they loved it!"

"But if they hadn't?" Fiona retorts, voice cold. "What if someone had been injured?"

Even I hold back an eye roll at that. "It. Was. Water." Beau breaks the sentence into syllables and I press my fingers to my eyes, willing him to shut up.

"Regardless of what it was, MisFits fans pay large amounts of money to see your shows. They do not pay to be mistreated," Fiona raises her brows, daring Beau to argue. "Or to watch you throw a tantrum on stage."

"What show were you at? They fucking loved it," Beau repeats his earlier statement more firmly than before but Fiona continues to speak over him as if he hadn't spoken at all. Inhale... exhale, I remind myself to stay calm, knowing that one of us has to and that it definitely won't be Beau.

"This is all to say that the label is currently undergoing considerations to remove Beau from the band." Fiona clasps her hands in her lap professionally, patiently awaiting our reactions. My fists clench at the small smirk on her lips before I look to Val, scribbling in her notepad, and wonder if she knew anything about this.

Jace lets out a low whistle and I can't stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth. "What about Jace?"

His blond head whips around to face me, eyes shooting me a death glare. "Fuck off, Emma,"

"Watch it," Beau snarls beside him, steam practically coming from his ears. His fists are clenched against his thighs, knuckles pale white under his tattoos.

Fiona's smirk widens as she looks me up and down, challenging me. "What about Jace?"

"He was in the hotel room, half the time Beau fights it's because of him, what're you gonna do about him?" I raise my brows at Fiona expectantly as Val raises her gaze to me, concern filling her dark eyes. "And what do you have to say about this?" I ask Rocco beside her.

"We've given the kid plenty of chances," Rocco shakes his head and looks at Beau with pity.

"Jace may have been in the hotel room," Fiona sips her martini coolly. "But his suite didn't rack up our bill. Direct me to the equipment Jace has rendered useless, Miss Carter, and we can discuss it."

I feel heat rising in my cheeks as I resist the urge to smack the smug look off of her pointy face.

"Fiona, come on, there has to be something we can do." Zach speaks softly, trying to settle everyone down. "No one wants Beau out of the band."

Tyler doesn't speak but his face looks torn, somewhere between anger and not being quite ready to take the next step yet.

"It's done," Fiona says simply. "The label will have an answer by morning,"

My anger at Beau temporarily replaced by anger for Beau flares again but I bite my tongue, looking to Beau for his reaction. Jaw clenched tightly, he shakes his head in disbelief. "Fuck this," He throws his hands up in defeat and storms across the hotel lobby, pulling his dark hood over his head as he steps into the busy street outside the hotel.

"Shit," I mutter to myself, putting my own feelings aside for the moment. "Beau, stop!" I call after him, my long legs propelling me into the crowded sidewalk after him.

Hours later, I enter yet another pub in the area, my feet sore from walking miles in improper footwear. Quickly scanning the dark space, I come up empty and ask the bartender if she's seen Beau. Of course, like everyone else I've checked with, she hasn't. Once again I'm faced with the realization that Beau probably hopped in a cab and took off. And who am I kidding? There's no way I'll be able to navigate my way through Glasgow to find him, even if he decided to stay in the city.

Sinking in a stool at the back corner of the pub, I take out my cellphone and dial Val's number with shaky fingers. She picks up on the first ring. "Emma, where are you? I've been looking everywhere,"

"I can't find him," My voice cracks as I blink back tears, hearing the worry in her voice. I'll apologize for running off later, but right now, the only thing that matters is finding Beau.

"What?" Val shouts to someone in the background before speaking in my ear again. "Emma, just come back to the hotel, we'll look together."

I shake my head, wiping tears from my cheeks and ignoring the stares of the other pub-goers. "I can't... I, I need to find him,"

"Send me your location," Val instructs calmly. "I'm coming to get you, okay?" She hangs up before I can protest and I do as I'm told, noting the already late hour and realizing that if I don't get back now, there probably won't be too many public transportation options later.

We're silent the entire way to our hotel - Val gave up within the first few minutes when I barely replied to anything she said, head too clouded with thoughts of Beau and where he might be to maintain a normal conversation. I wince, imagining all of the trouble he might be getting into, and again, my mind spirals in a million directions, none of them ending well.

Val tugs me through the lobby reluctantly. I spare one last glance at the grand hotel entrance, hoping that Beau will come stomping through sometime soon. After a couple of minutes, the elevator dings and I shove myself from the back wall, swaying tiredly on my feet as I wait for the doors to roll open. As they do, I notice a paramedic rush past me and my heartbeat quickens, pounding so hard in my chest that it feels like it might blow out all together.

"He's here!" Zach's voice down the hall sends me in a full sprint the rest of the way to my suite, and I shove past Jace to get a better look at whatever they're all circled around just outside the door.

Peering over the top of two paramedics heads, I gasp, finding Beau lying on the floor, face covered in blood. "Beau!" I shout, trying to push through to him, but failing as Jace grabs my arm and holds me back. "Let go of me, don't fucking touch me!" I shout, fighting his grasp.

"Someone needs to keep her back," The paramedic speaks calmly but I barely hear the words, focused only on Beau's face. Why isn't he talking? "Why is he bleeding?" Still pulling against Jace's hold, I shout to no one in particular, "What's going on?"

"Ma'am, you need to back up," The paramedic says more sternly and Val finally reaches us, using her body weight to push me against the wall, holding me in place.

"Sh, Emma, it's okay. It's okay," She coos, wrapping her arms around me and stroking my hair. "He's going to be fine, everything will be okay." Realizing that struggling is useless, I go limp in her arms, resting my head on her shoulder and staring down the hall.

Everything else falls away as I watch the two men roll Beau out on a stretcher, his tattooed hand hanging lifelessly over the side.