A few days had gone by since Sebastian's lengthy talking-to. During that period of seemingly endless lip-flapping from his friends, he had begun to wonder how many times they could reiterate the same points; he understood that he was out of line (but, he still did believe the band plus Ross needed thicker skin). What else was there?

This point became slightly ironic as he stared at Savannah's contact on his phone, just as she had done a few days prior. He kept telling himself that she wouldn't mind him calling her and inviting her to the Skids' party. The worst she would do was say no (which was a very likely possibility, since she didn't like partying). A "no" isn't awful, right?

But, he still couldn't gather his courage and do it. He just kept staring at the call button, its cartoon-shaped phone icon staring back at him, taunting him.

His brain became divided in two during this moment. One side of this hypothetical division encouraged asking. As stated before, it couldn't hurt! And the party would be ten times more kickass if Savannah was there. But, the other, more cynical side kept warning him against it. Savannah would think he was such a dumbass for inviting her to a party when he was explicitly told she hated parties. Besides, he had brought up the idea to Rachel, and he said she definitely wouldn't go for it. Rachel knew Savannah better than anyone, and he would've been able to tell if she would make an exception to her rule.

Eventually, his optimism won over for a split second. Who the fuck cared what Rachel thought? He was probably right, but so what? When has a possible refusal for anything ever held Sebastian Bach back? He took a chance with Skid Row, took a chance with his previous girlfriends in asking them out, and took a chance in finding the courage to actually sing in front of people. Asking his colleague to come to a party was easy-fucking-peasy.

So, his thumb hit the call button in a burst of courage.

Immediately, he regretted it. Even though his optimism was more objectively correct than his cynicism, he couldn't shake that devil on his shoulder.

But, it was too late now. No backing down. So, he shakily raised the phone to his ear, letting it ring.

A dull voice in the back of his mind informed him that this was the first time he was going to call Savannah. They had been texting steadily these past few days, and now they were going to be on their first call. For some reason, that occasion felt more momentous to him than it should've.

   He was beginning to think she wouldn't answer, and was about to hang up, when. . .

   "Hello?"

   His heart lurched, not having expected to hear her voice. "Hey, Sav."

   "Hi, Baz. What's up?"

   He felt his palms glaze over with nervous sweat. He wiped his free hand on his pants, mouthing curses to himself. "Well, the Skids are having a party tomorrow night," he got out. "And, I was wondering if you wanted to go."

   There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Sebastian was quick to fill the silence with his trademark blabbering. "Before you say anything, I know you said you're not much of a partier, but. . .I don't know. I just thought that you being there would make it more fun. Besides, it's not like you have to do drugs or get wasted! I just. . .want you there. Everyone else does, too."

   Savannah thought about it, mentally groaning. A party? That would be a lot of social interaction, and a lot of drunken idiots. But, on the other hand, Sebastian would be there, smiling at her and chatting with her the way he had been doing for close to a week now. She had begun to miss him, since her work hadn't been needed these past few days.

   Sebastian, now very nervous, began to fill the silence once more. "I can even get the Crüe to show up. Sweeten the deal for you."

   While that was definitely a motivator for her to show up, and while the very notion of meeting the Crüe sent a jolt of excitement through her body, that wasn't what ultimately influenced the agreement to come. In reality, she wanted to see Sebastian, and to see him happy. She knew that even without that promise of meeting her idols, she would've agreed anyway. After all, she needed to live a little. The whole "reserved girl" act was getting tiring to live with, and probably to deal with.

   So, she agreed. "Count me the fuck in."

   Sebastian was stunned. So stunned, in fact, that his mouth dropped open. He smiled after he had collected himself, though. "I knew that the Mötley offer would be the thing to convince you."

   She laughed, and the sound made him smile wider. "While that offer definitely sweetened the deal, I would've said 'yes' regardless, Sebastian," she told him.

   "Really?" He stood up from the couch and began to pace around absentmindedly. It was a phone habit, and it certainly didn't help that, despite your agreement, he was still nervous. "How come? I thought you despised parties."

   "I do. But, I haven't exactly given it a fair shot in a while, and I need to start living the rocker life a little." Sebastian could hear Savannah's smile through the phone.

   "Besides," she added, "I want to see you again, you know? And I guess I don't want you feeling disappointed that I'm not there."

   Sebastian's heart lurched again. "Hey, you don't need to agree on my behalf! I'll be fine either way." He realized how those words had ended up sounding indifferent rather than accommodating, so he rushed to add, "But, I definitely would rather you be there."

   "And that's why I'm going. You're an awesome dude, Baz. And I make allowances for awesome dudes."

   He chuckled. "And I make allowances for awesome chicks. Count on the Crüe showing up."

   "You really don't need to do that. But, I would not be opposed if you did. Like—if it's too much trouble, then don't. But, if it's not. . .then please do."

   "It's not any trouble at all," he replied. "I have their numbers, and if I remember right, they're in town."

   Savannah could not process the fact that someone she knew was affiliated with Mötley Crüe. "So, you're telling me you have the digits of the Tommy Lee?"

   Sebastian laughed. "Yeah, man! I'm guessing he's your favorite, then?"

   "Of course! Tommy's awesome. He's so funny and is super nice. That's why I like Vince, too."

   "Vince is cool. However, I do apologize in advance for what you'll see. They like to party."

   "Yeah, I know. I'm a rock fan, I know what goes down!" Savannah paused as she thought of something. "Wait, I thought they were sober now. Didn't they do the whole Dr. Feelgood tour without drinking or doing drugs?"

   "Yeah, but that didn't really take. They're definitely less fucked up now, but they still know how to have a good time. We were probably to blame for ruining their sobriety." Sebastian laughed as he thought of the time he had brutally destroyed a painting of Nikki's when high, and the bassist barely even reacted. "They were so funny when they were sober, though. One time on the tour, I was high as all fuck. I had done mountains, and I'm talking mountains, of blow.

   "I was hanging out with Nikki, and, don't even fucking ask why, I decided to punch a painting of his, and I shattered the frame it was in. And then the dude looked at me, calm as can fucking be, and said 'wow, that was wild' in the most monotone voice you can imagine!"

   Savannah laughed, too. That sounded like Nikki. "What a legend. Can I ask, though, why you decided to destroy a painting?"

   "I told you not to ask!" he whined. "I have no idea, man. I think it can all be chalked up to what I like to call 'blow brain.'"

   "'Blow brain?'" Savannah echoed through bouts of laughter. "That's fucking awesome. Did you make that up?"

   "Yeah! While I was high, I think. And it just stuck."

"Maybe I should try and get high, then. I wanna have random bouts of genius!"

"'Genius?' You flatter me." Sebastian began to feel the familiar sensation of being watched; the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he felt uneasy in a way he couldn't describe. He looked around the room, and sure enough, Rachel was standing there, a teasing smirk on his face.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and waved him away sharply, but Rachel didn't listen. He instead puckered his lips and made kissy faces.

Sebastian couldn't help but think to himself how ironic this was. Mere days ago, Rachel had been up his ass about calling Savannah cute. And now, he was smooching it up over there. He knew this was due to his lack of knowledge of the attraction he had felt to her; Rachel liked to tease, so tease he did. Sebastian couldn't fathom what Rachel would do if he knew the truth, though.

He kept waving Rachel away, and when he didn't leave, Sebastian pushed him playfully.

"Hey!" Rachel shrieked.

"I only speak the truth," Savannah said. She paused a little, then added, "And, hey, who the hell made that girly screech?"

Sebastian laughed. "That was Rachel." He turned to his friend and commented, "Sav thinks you sound girly."

"Wait, what?" he pouted. "I'm not girly. I'm manly!"

Sebastian put her on speaker. "Rach says he's manly. Respond to that how you wish. Your options are endless; you're on speaker."

"Oh. Hey, Rach. I choose to respond by saying that you're a fucking liar!"

Sebastian howled with laughter, and Rachel huffed. "I'm totally gonna beat your ass next time I see you. When is that again?"

"Tomorrow. I'm going to the party."

Rachel looked at Sebastian, eyes wide with shock. He had been trying to convince you to party for years and years, and Sebastian pulled out the charm once, and you were convinced? He wondered why. What had he given in exchange? "Oh, cool. You're gonna hate it, you know."

"No, she won't!" Sebastian retorted, frowning. "That's not a good way to look at it. I'm gonna invite the Crüe, so if everything goes to shit, at least she'll have them."

It all made sense to Rachel then. "Ah, that was the motive, I see."

"Nope. I just wanted to see Sebastian and the rest of you. But yeah, the whole Crüe thing is also a plus," said Savannah.

Rachel's confused expression returned. "Who even are you?" he spluttered. He briefly wondered if something was going on between her and Sebastian, but quickly dismissed the thought. Sebastian knew that if he was even remotely attracted to Savannah, he'd get his fucking face pounded in. And Savannah knew that Sebastian was not ideal in terms of relationships, so she should steer clear. She was definitely not into the whole "wild child, groupie-pleaser" scene. So, that meant there was no way either of them would feel like that. They were just getting along, and that's exactly what he had wanted.

"She's Sav, now seriously Rachel, get the fuck out," Sebastian laughed, shoving his bassist out of the room.

"No! We've got album stuff to discuss."

"What?"

"Band meeting? Does that ring any sort of bell in that vacant ass head of yours?"

Sebastian stared blankly at Rachel as Savannah listened to this somewhat entertaining conversation.

"Oh!" the blond-haired vocalist cried out when he remembered. "Shit, I forgot about that. Yeah, Sav, looks like I gotta go. We're working on ideas for our new album. We think it's gonna be called Slave to the Grind."

"Whoa, heavy name," she remarked.

"Right? And that's what we're going for. We're trying to have this album be a lot harder than our last one, you know? And—"

"Today, Sebastian." Rachel rolled his eyes (somewhat fondly) at his blabbering friend.

"Okay, okay. Bye, Sav. See you tomorrow?" Sebastian asked, hoping for one last confirmation to really let him relax.

"See you tomorrow."

He smiled. "All right, bye."

"Bye."

They both hung up, and Savannah was left to comprehend what the hell she had just agreed to. Would she really want to witness her colleagues with white powder decorating their noses, drunk beyond belief?

The answer was yes, apparently.

So, she began to mentally prepare for tomorrow, all while Rachel kept heartily teasing Sebastian at their band meeting. The rest of the band got into it, too, and all Sebastian could do was smile and shake his head.

Even though Savannah was a little nervous for the day to come, and even though Sebastian had to be careful to not show his attraction to Savannah at any point during the party (and during every other day), they were both excited for what the night would bring.

Like-minded rockers in a room together. . .

What could go wrong?