Chapter Two

Isaac held the door open, standing back to let Taylor and Zac pass through. "Sorry we're late, April," he apologized, letting the door swing shut. "The traffic was murder, and somebody decided that he just couldn't leave the apartment without making the biggest sandwich known to man."

"I was hungry," muttered Zac, rolling his eyes. Where did Ike get off being so flippant? Storming in last night, hurling insults and accusations till the cows came home, then being all nice and friendly this morning. It was weird. Rethinking, Zac realized that it probably wasn't that weird and more than likely had something to do with his other brother, who was glancing from Zac to Isaac, wondering if his plan had worked. Zac sighed. He wished Taylor would mind his own business sometimes. He knew that his next-oldest brother was involved to some extent, after all, he did have to live with them, but trying to patch things up between them was dumb. Taylor was so virtuous, so self-righteous, such a martyr sometimes, that it got downright annoying. Zac knew that Taylor was only trying to help, and he supposed that deep down, he appreciated it in some way, but he wished he would butt out.

It bugged the hell out of him, how Taylor had this 'perfect' thing going. Hell, Taylor wasn't perfect. Zac could clearly remember the night he had been woken by his brother, drunk out of his mind, knocking on the window from his perch on the tree just below. It had terrified Zac to see his older brother like that, falling all over the place and declaring his undying love for everything and everyone. And then the whole story had hit the papers, the paparazzi jumping at the chance to reveal scandal on the clean-living Hanson boys. Taylor's stupid little drunken escapade could have been fatal for Hanson as a band, and here he was, preaching at Zac for going home early with a migraine, which did no harm except leave his brothers without a ride home, and that could be easily fixed. Sure, he could have let them know, but the door to the office had been closed, and Zac had figured they must have been in some sort of meeting, so he'd just left.

He looked up at Taylor, who was flicking through some mail, and he felt a strange sensation well up inside him. He bit on his lip, realizing that he'd never felt anything bad about any of his family before. But this was worse than bad. This was pure contempt he was feeling, hatred towards the hypocrite who was trying to run his life. Taylor, sensing Zac's locked gaze on him, looked up and smiled, making Zac feel even worse. He managed a tight smile back, steadying himself on April's desk. Of course he didn't hate his brother. Sure, he didn't like him very much at that particular moment in time, but he couldn't hate him. He was just in a bad mood, Zac decided, and his emotions were messed up as a result of it. He couldn't hate his brother just because he was annoying him. Especially not when Taylor was trying to be nice.

"Did you hear that, Zac?"

"Huh?" Zac turned to Isaac, a little dazed from suddenly being dragged from his reverie.

Isaac's face frowned in disapproval. "Why don't you listen, Zac?" he asked in annoyance. "Dad's flying back out tomorrow."

Now it was Zac's turn to frown. "I thought he wasn't coming back out until the new year."

"Change of plan," explained Taylor. "Now we've signed Kindred Spirit, he wants to check things out. I guess he would, I mean, he is the boss man."

"Yeah, I guess," shrugged Zac.

April got to her feet. "Hey, Isaac, I had a call from Peter McWilliams, Kindred Spirit's manager."

"You did?"

"Yeah, he says that he and the band are coming in at about eleven, you know, so he can sign the contract and discuss it and everything."

Isaac smiled. "That's great."

Taylor turned to Zac. "Maybe you can meet them this time."

"No can do." Zac shook his head. "I have a trig test at ten."

"You're not getting out of it, Zac." Isaac's voice took on a threatening tone. "It's about time you took something to do with this business!"

"But, Ike, it's like a test that's gonna go to my final grade! Mom's pissed at me already cos I've got a D average in Math!"

"I've seen the test," Isaac told him, raising his eyebrows cynically. "And if it takes you more than an hour to do it, you should be taking remedial classes."

"Screw you," muttered Zac. "I'm gonna go study." He stomped through the lobby and into the small back room, his bag thudding forcefully against his hip.

***

"You want us to what?" Jamie Jenkinson's high-pitched voice rang loud and clear throughout the office.

Peter McWilliams smiled, then cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed by Jamie's reaction to his proposal. "Jamie, darling, is it so incredulous?" he asked in his plummy British accent.

"Damn right it is!" exploded Jamie, jumping to her feet.

"Jamie…" Niamh laid a hand on her friend's arm, but she shrugged it off angrily.

"You want us to say we didn't write our songs or our music for some promotional deal?" Jamie brought her hands to her head. "Explain to me how that works?"

Peter smirked, laughing nervously and rubbing his hand on his neck. "Look, sweetheart… The music industry today… Backstreet Boys, N SYNC, manufactured groups. They work."

"But we're not manufactured!" Jamie reminded him, through clenched teeth.

"I know, and there's not much we can do about that. But if you annul all rights to your songs as the writers, then maybe we can salvage this band."

"Excuse me," spoke up Niamh. "But doesn't it say in the contract that we're entitled to 15% of royalties if we write the songs?"

Isaac had been wondering how long it would take for one of the band to remember that. "It does," he told the group, nodding his head.

"Tell me, Isaac." Jamie sat down, speaking in a dangerously calm voice. "Where would that 15% go if we didn't write the songs?"

Isaac smiled. "Well, Jamie, that particular 15% would go to your manager."

In an instant, Jamie was back on her feet. "You dick!" she screamed. "You want to con us out of money? You big, stupid, fat-cat jerk!"

Rachelle stood up. "Jamie, calm down."

"Calm down?! You calm down!" Jamie was almost becoming hysterical. "This asshole… Oh, God!"

Peter laughed shortly, dabbing at his forehead with his handkerchief. "You have quite a fiery personality, Miss Jenkinson. I like that."

"Oh, do you, now?" Jamie's blue eyes were flashing.

"Uh, yes, I do, quite. It's rather…refreshing."

Jamie bent down until her nose was inches away from his. "Don't patronize me, you prat!"

"Do you have no respect for authority?"

Jamie shrugged. "Sure I do. I just don't have respect for money-grabbing authoritarians!"

Peter stood up, squaring up to Jamie. "Don't insult me. I've worked wonders for this band."

"Oh, have you?" Jamie brought her index finger up to her dark brown lipsticked mouth. "And what, exactly, would they be?"

"You know fine well."

"Refresh my memory?" Jamie eased herself back into her chair, crossing her arms and resting the ankle of one leg on the knee of the other. She stared at him, azure eyes challenging him to answer.

"Miss Jenkinson! I don't have to answer to you. Now, will you just sign the papers!" Mr McWilliams thrust forward a contract of his own to the angry teenager.

"No." Jamie shook her head firmly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said no. N-O. Two letters, one syllable." She leaned forward. "We reject your offer, dickhead."

Jennifer gasped. "Jamie, don't be so crude!"

"Jennie?"

"Yeah?"

"Butt out!"

Pursing her lips, Jennifer sank back into her chair, exchanging looks with Rachelle and folding her arms.

Peter leaned forward, face to face with Jamie. "I seriously suggest you reconsider my proposal."

Jamie sighed, resting one sneaker on the chair. "Okay, I'll think about it."

"Thank you."

"Can we have a look at the papers, please, Sir?" Jamie smiled sweetly.

"What is she doing?" asked Taylor in a low voice, tugging at Isaac's shirt.

"I don't know," Isaac whispered back. "But it's Jamie. She'll know exactly what she's doing."

Taylor smiled, watching as Jamie took the papers from Mr McWilliams.

She turned round. "Hey," she hissed. "We don't want him stealing our money, do we?"

Niamh, Jennifer and Rachelle all shook their heads.

"Good." Jamie flashed them a huge grin. "Just to make sure I'm not stepping on any toes." She turned back to their manager. "Okay, we've thought about it."

"Already?"

"We’re quick thinkers."

"And?"

Jamie smiled, holding up the contracts. She ripped them right down the middle, the sound of tearing paper strangely loud as she folded it over and ripped it again, and again, and again. Then she walked up to Peter McWilliams and scattered them over his head. "Thanks, but no thanks."

His face flaming red, Mr McWilliams jumped up, sending contract confetti flying all over the plush blue carpeting. "I wash my hands of you, you little wretch, I really do!" He grabbed his briefcase. "Find yourself a new manager!"

"Oh, don't worry, we will!" yelled Jamie. "Find yourself a new band!"

Mr McWilliams stopped and stuck his head back around the door. "Oh, I will. One with talent."

"Yeah, and maybe we'll find a manager with a brain!" Jamie screamed after him as the door slammed shut.

"Oh, nice going, Jamie," muttered Jennifer.

"He was an asshole!" Jamie defended herself, taking her seat again at the table.

"But he was our manager!" Jennie pointed out. "We kinda needed him."

"Well, you do need a manager," agreed Taylor. "But not necessarily him. Right, Ike?"

"Yeah, that's right," confirmed Isaac. "Peter McWilliams didn't actually sign anything. He's got no grounds to make things difficult. Face it, Jennie. Jamie did you all a favor."

"But we still need a manager." Jennie tossed back her mass of blond curls, pouting her pink-frosted lips.

"She's right." Niamh rested her head in her hands. "What do we do?" she asked glumly.

"Hang on!" Rachelle jumped up.

"What?" Jamie looked up from her cup of coffee.

"Oh, man, I don't know why I didn't think of this before!"

"What?" repeated Jamie. "Don't keep us in suspense, Shell."

"My cousin! In Ohio!"

"What about him?"

"Her! She could be our manager! She's managing this local band where she lives, but she'd jump at the chance to get into the major leagues!" Rachelle jumped up and down. "Can I call her?"

Taylor looked to Isaac, who nodded. "Sure. April'll show you how to dial out."

"Back in a second!" Rachelle jogged out of the office.

"I hope her cousin will do it…" Jennifer played with a lock of hair. "Hey, James, is she your cousin too?"

Jamie rolled her eyes. "Nope. Other side of the family, I guess. Otherwise, I would have known it wasn't a he, you ditz."

Jennie shrugged. "Oh, yeah."

The door swung open and Zac shuffled into the room, throwing his bag into the corner. "Hey," he muttered.

"Hi, buddy. How'd it go?" asked Taylor, referring to the trigonometry test.

Zac shrugged. "Okay, I guess. It wasn't as bad as I thought." He poured himself a coffee, then sat down beside Taylor.

Isaac stood up. "Okay, guys, this is our little brother, Zac."

"Ah, the silent partner!" joked Jamie. "We were wondering when we were gonna meet you."

Zac smiled. "Hey."

"Zac, this is Jamie Jenkinson, Jennifer Thomson and Niamh O'Shaughnessy. Also known as Kindred Spirit."

"I thought there were four of them?" Zac's brow creased. He was sure that there was a bassist, a keyboard player, a lead guitarist and a drummer.

"Oh, there are," Niamh told him. "She's out using the phone. Trying to get us a manager."

"Yeah, did you hear the screaming?" Jennie giggled, chewing on her thumbnail.

"I did hear something," Zac admitted.

"Sorry, I hope I didn't screw up your test." Jamie smiled ruefully. "I just had to sort out some asshole."

"Nah, it's okay. I was almost done." Zac took a sip of his coffee, the hot liquid thawing his stomach, which seemed to have been frozen since that morning.

"She'll do it!" Rachelle ran back into the room. "She's thrilled! She'll be here tomorrow!"

"Really?" Niamh got to her feet and threw her arms round Rachelle. "Ah, that's great, so it is!"

Taylor frowned. "Zac? What's up?" His brother was just sitting there, staring at Niamh and Rachelle. He put his hand on his arm. "Zac?"

"No way," Zac whispered. He shrugged off his brother and stood up.

Rachelle broke apart from Niamh. "Hi, Zac."

"You guys know each other?" asked Taylor, but his question went unheard.

"What the hell are you doing here?" demanded Zac, his voice brimming with contempt.

Rachelle shrugged. "Surprise!"

"Answer me."

"Uh, I'm the drummer."

Zac shook his head. "No way!"

"Yeah."

Whirling round, he turned to Taylor. "I'm not working with her, guys. She's an evil bitch!"

"Zac!" Isaac didn't know why his brother had suddenly turned into the typical teenager from hell again, but he wasn't going to stand for him being rude to their clients.

Rachelle cleared her throat, then began to speak. "Zac, there's no reason why this won't work. We're both professionals."

Zac stomped over to her. "You think?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I don't!"

"I knew you wouldn't."

"Oh, you did, did you?" challenged Zac.

"Yes, I did. Because you're so wrapped up in yourself, Zac. You're just a lonely, isolated little boy, and you don't even want to try to make friends with anyone." Rachelle sighed sadly, crossing her arms.

"You bitch!" hissed Zac. He grabbed his coffee cup and threw it at her, covering her in the hot brown liquid. Then he ran from the room, leaving five stunned people and one wet and angry girl behind him.

***

Taylor peered into the rearview mirror, seeing Zac sitting in the backseat, sulking, his hair falling across his eyes and his arms folded tightly. "Want to tell us what that was all about today?" he asked.

"No."

Taylor rolled his eyes. "Zac…"

Ignoring the warning tone in his brother's voice, Zac shrugged his shoulders. "I said no. Are you deaf or something?"

Sighing heavily, Taylor leaned over and turned on the car radio, drumming his fingers off the steering wheel to the beat of Aerosmith's 'Crazy'. "You have to explain, Zac."

"I don't have to do anything but breathe."

Shaking his head, Taylor gave up and concentrated on guiding their car through the rush hour traffic. Beside him, Isaac appeared to be in a world of his own, staring at the bright lights and the cars whizzing past. If he had heard anything of the argument, he wasn't showing it. Taylor knew he shouldn't push this thing with Zac, but he was curious. How did Zac know the drummer of Kindred Spirit? Why did he hate her so much? As far as anyone knew, that was the first time Zac and Rachelle had laid eyes on one another, and Taylor didn't believe in love at first sight, never mind hate. There had to be a reason. But what was it?

"Taylor!"

Snapping back to attention, Taylor slammed on the brakes, careering to a stop inches from the trunk of a Fiat.

"What were you thinking?!" demanded Isaac.

Taylor inhaled shakily. "Sorry. Is there a jam?"

Isaac stared at his brother. "No, Tay, all these cars are actually parked on the freeway to see Celine Dion sing the 'Titanic' theme suspended from a helicopter."

Ignoring the sarcastic comment, Taylor wound down his window and leaned out, craning his neck. The line of cars seemed to be endless. "Okay, I think we'll be here for a while."

"Yeah, that song goes on forever… Celine Dion and on and on and on…"

"Hilarious, Ike."

"I know. So, Zac, spit it out. We have plenty of time."

Zac just rolled his eyes, leaned forward and turned up the volume on the radio.

Isaac reached out and turned the radio off, filling the car with a deafening silence. "It's not a request, Zac, it's a demand. I want to know why the hell you have such a problem with the drummer."

"I don't have to tell you."

Isaac appeared to be pondering this. "No, Zachary, you don't. But if you choose not to, then you won't be coming back out here after Christmas."

"You wouldn't."

Taylor smiled to himself. Zac was right; Isaac wouldn’t, he knew that. But he also knew that Ike could do a hell of a good job making Zac think that he would.

"I would, Zac, and you know it. I've had it with you, right now, and I'm being deadly serious when I say that I wish I could pack you back home on a plane to Tulsa right now."

In the mirror, Taylor saw Zac flinch as if he'd been slapped. Feeling sorry for his brother, he decided to give him another chance to tell all. "Zac, what's up between you and Rachael?"

"Rachelle," Zac corrected.

"Will you tell us if I get the name right?" Taylor asked gently.

Isaac snorted. Taylor was far too soft.

But when Zac nodded, Isaac had to admit that maybe soft was the way to go. "So what happened?"

Zac sighed. "I hate her."

"You don't know her."

"I met her twice before," Zac told him, enjoying the look of surprise on his oldest brother's face. He liked to shock them. "Once in Tulsa, years ago, and then yesterday. Both times she's been a total bitch, judging me when she doesn't know me. I hate her, I'm not working with her."

"You're both professionals, right?" Taylor inched the car forward as the traffic began to crawl along again. "So you can do this. It won't be so hard."

"What do you know about it?" muttered Zac sullenly. "You don't know everything."

"I didn't say I did," replied Taylor mildly.

"But you act like you do!" retorted Zac, feeling the contempt from that morning bubbling up inside of him again. "You're so damn self-righteous!"

Taylor opened his mouth, then decided against it, not wanting to inflame things any further.

"Zac, that's enough!" snapped Isaac. "He's only trying to help you."

"Well, he's not."

"Look, I know you think it's your duty to play the role of the typical asshole, but really, we know you can do it. You don't have to keep going."

"You're the asshole, Ike."

Isaac raised his eyes heavenwards, heaving a heavy sigh, watching in the mirror as Zac leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.

***

"What do you think about England?" asked Isaac, his eyes scanning down a piece of paper.

Taylor looked up. "Well, I think it's part of the UK, ruled by the Monarchy, where they speak funny and drive on the wrong side of the road. Why?"

"No, no, I mean to record the album. For Kindred Spirit."

"You mean go back to Sarm Hook End?" Taylor pushed his legs against his desk, wheeling his chair backwards. "That could be cool."

"Not necessarily Sarm," mused Isaac. "But somewhere like that. It's just a thought. I mean, we'd have to put it past the band, obviously, and this new manager-cousin-type person, but you're for it?"

"Sure." Taylor smiled. "You think Zac'll go for it?"

Isaac sighed. "Probably not. He likes being difficult."

"I dunno. Maybe a change of scenery is what he needs."

"Nah, a kick up the ass is what he needs," laughed Isaac.

Suddenly, Beethoven's Ninth Symphony cut through the air.

Taylor rolled his eyes. "Ike, your pants are ringing. When are you gonna change that ring to something less pretentious?"

Isaac grinned. "I was thinking of making it play 'MMMBop'," he joked, reaching into his pocket for his cellphone.

As he listened to Isaac talk away to someone, Taylor wandered over to the big window, watching the snow swirling from the sky, dancing in the air, landing gently on cars, trees, people's heads. Covering the dirty, trodden on snow with fresh, clean flakes, making New York City actually look pretty, instead of just like some bustling Metropolis. It was nice. Although Tulsa was a big city, and hardly some run-down hick town, huge cities like this intimidated him. Everyone was so faceless in big cities. Nobody knew anyone else, anonymity was practically guaranteed. And even though he'd lived here for a few months now, and visited it countless times, Taylor still had the notion that around ever corner, there was someone waiting to mug him. He knew it was dumb, but he couldn't help it.

"Tay?"

"Hmm?"

"I have to dash out. Will you be okay here by yourself?" Isaac looked at his watch. "I should be back by three, and Zac'll be back from his Math lesson in like half an hour."

"Yeah, sure," Taylor replied absently.

"Remember that Rachelle's cousin's coming in to talk about managing the band?"

"Yep."

"Can you handle that?"

Rolling his eyes, Taylor sighed. "I'm almost nineteen years old. I think I can cope with getting someone to sign a contract. I'll get April to witness."

"Okay, thanks, man." Isaac shrugged into his coat, draping a scarf around his neck. "I won't be long."

"Hey, Ike, where you going?" asked Taylor, turning round.

But Isaac was already gone, the door swinging on its hinges. A second later, Taylor watched him run out into the snow covered street, hail a cab and climb in, disappearing from sight.

Sighing, he walked across the room, perched on Isaac's desk, chewing on a nougat bar, and began to read about the recording studios in England that his brother had been talking about.

The intercom buzzed. "Taylor? Rachelle Owen's cousin is here to see you."

Taylor jumped down off the desk, wiping chocolate off his mouth and stuffing his candy into Isaac's drawer. He had to at least look professional. "Okay, send her in." He set out the contract in front of him, rummaging around in the drawer for a pen.

"I don't believe this."

Taylor froze. That voice. It had been almost three years since he'd heard it, but he would recognize it anywhere, any day. But what was it doing in his office? Slowly, he stood up. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I should've clicked! When Shell kept talking about Isaac and Taylor… I just don't believe this!"

"You don't believe it?" Taylor sat back down, rubbing his temples. "Oh, man…"

Gabriella Young slammed the door shut behind her, stormed over to the desk and thumped her bag down on the floor. "We can't do this."

"No way," agreed Taylor.

"When I agreed to manage the band… No, no way!" Gabbie shook her head firmly. "I can't work with a jumped up idiot like you. We'll need to take our business somewhere else."

Taylor stared at her in disbelief. "Hey, just where the hell do you get off, storming uninvited into my business, insulting me, then stealing my best clients?!" he demanded angrily.

Gabbie narrowed her blazing eyes, her cheeks reddening in anger. She leaned closer, talking in a dangerously low voice. "Point one. I was invited. By you. Sure, maybe it wasn't directly, but you wanted to see the new manager and here I am. Point two. I'll call you whatever the hell I like. And besides, you are a jumped up idiot. And Point three. Kindred Spirit are my band. We'll go where we like."

"The contracts are signed!"

"Do I look like I give a fuck?"

Taylor had to admit she didn't. "I don't care. You can't come storming in here like some stupid femme fatale and tell me what to do!"

Gabbie raised her hand and slapped him sharply across the cheek.

"You bitch!" yelped Taylor, bringing his own hand automatically to his smarting cheek. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"Don't ever call me stupid." Gabbie sat back down.

Taylor stared at her, dumbfounded. "Who the hell do you think you are?!"

"I could ask you the same question! I told you, leave me alone! Didn't I say I wanted no more contact from you? I expect you to respect my wishes, I don't care how many number one songs you've had." She raked her hands through her curly hair. "I thought I'd heard the last of you when your last single totally flopped. But you've obviously been plotting to get me out here. This is obsession, Taylor!"

Taylor choked. "Don't flatter yourself! I couldn't have given a damn whether or not I saw you ever again!"

"Don't lie to me! You told me that you still loved me!"

"That was almost three years ago, you stupid bitch!" he yelled, anger taking over.

"I told you, don't call me stupid!" shouted Gabbie, jumping to her feet and raising her hand again.

Taylor caught it this time, gripping her arm tightly. "Don't even think about it."

"Let me go!" she screamed. "Let me go, you asshole!"

"Uh, is everything alright in here?" April's head popped round the side of the door.

Embarrassed, Taylor let go of Gabbie's arm and they both sat down. "Sure, April, everything's just great."

The receptionist pursed her lips, staring at her angry boss and his even angrier client doubtfully. "Okay." She turned to leave.

"April?"

She stuck her head back round the door. "Yeah?"

"Could you get myself and Ms Young some coffee, please?" he asked wearily, his previous anger gone.

"Sure."

"You are still Ms Young, aren't you?" he asked, as April teetered out of the office in her high heels.

"I don’t see that it's any of your business," replied Gabbie coldly.

Taylor sighed, leaning back in his chair. How could this have possibly happened? How could Gabbie, who had claimed to have no contact with any of her family except her grandmother, have a cousin who was in this band? It was sick. He'd heard of twists of fate, but this was ridiculous. Somebody up there sure hated him right now.

They'd been in the same room for less than two minutes, and already they'd been fighting. It looked like Gabbie was right. They couldn't work together. But Kindred Spirit would have been such a great signing. Was there any way possible to work this out? His mind cast back to the advice he'd given Zac in the car the night before, regarding the tensions between him and Rachelle. Maybe the same advice could apply here. But he and Gabbie had so much history together. It had been a fleeting, but intense romance. Taylor had lost his virginity to her, and when she told him that she had a boyfriend in Ohio, it had taken him the best part of a year to get over her. Could they really put it all behind them?

He cleared his throat. "Look, we're clearly both professionals here."

Gabbie raised her eyebrows. She obviously wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

"How about we just behave like we're professionals? We really don't want to lose Kindred Spirit. Why don't we just agree to be civil, and avoid each other as much as possible?"

"You're right," Gabbie relented. "If it weren't for you - for us, I guess - this whole thing would be perfect." She sighed. "I mean, I'm not happy with this. I need you to promise me that you're not interested in me any more."

"I'm not," Taylor assured her, a little too quickly for Gabbie's liking.

"And I need to know that you understand that Mike and I are still engaged to be married next summer."

"Congratulations," Taylor said tightly.

"Thank you. I guess we could try it."

"I guess we could," he repeated.

She smiled slightly. "I'm sorry I slapped you. I was kinda shocked to see you."

"I'm sorry, too. So, are we partners?" He held out his hand. "We'll be civil, and spend as little time together as possible?"

Gabbie nodded. "Okay, partners." She shook his hand briefly. "Look, I hate to sign and run, but I really have to be somewhere."

"No problem." Taylor handed her the contract and a pen. "Just sign in the blank line."

She scanned the contract, signed it, then got to her feet. "Okay, well, we'll be in touch."

"So will we." Taylor clasped his hands behind his head. "I think Ike wants to start recording as soon into the new year as possible."

"Okay, great. Umm, I gotta dash." She walked over to the door. "I'll see you around."

"Yeah, bye," Taylor replied quietly, watching Gabbie's figure retreat around the door.

He smiled to himself, feeling incredibly proud. He'd come so close to wrecking the entire deal for everyone, but he hadn't. He'd been totally adult and mature about everything. It wasn't going to be easy, this civility thing, but he was prepared to give it his best shot, and it looked like Gabbie was too.

There was a knock at the door. "Coffee?" April reminded him.

"Oh, darn." Taylor had totally forgotten that he'd asked April to make drinks. "I don't suppose you'd care for a cup, would you?"

***

Isaac pushed the button and the elevator began to glide slowly upwards.

"Do you think he'll be there?" asked Taylor.

"He said he would be, didn't he?" muttered Zac in reply. "His plane got in like hours ago."

"Man, I can't wait to see him." Taylor peered into the mirror, adjusting his hair.

Isaac smiled. "Tay, it's only been three weeks. I can't wait to see you at Christmas when we go home!"

"Mom!" Taylor smiled. "I can't wait to see my mommy," he cooed in a baby voice.

Zac rolled his eyes. "Tay, you're pathetic."

"I know," shrugged Taylor. "I was just goofing. But I think it sucks that you don't want to see Dad."

"Why would I?" grumbled Zac. "He's only gonna yell at me. That's all anyone ever does these days."

"Well, Zac, that should maybe tell you something, huh?" Isaac raised his eyebrows as the elevator doors slid open and they stepped out into the plush carpeting of the hallway.

"Bite me." Zac glowered at his two older brothers.

Taylor slid his key into the lock, turning it and swinging the door open. "Dad!" He grinned, seeing his father sitting on the couch, flipping through the TV guide. He walked over and threw his arms around his dad, squeezing him tightly.

Mr Hanson laughed, patting his son on the back. "I'm glad somebody's happy to see me." He let go of Taylor and took Isaac into his arms, hugging him briefly. "Zac?" he asked, stopping in front of his youngest New York son.

Zac held out his hand. "Hey."

Mr Hanson shook hands with his son, looking bemused. "Hello, Zachary. I'm pleased to meet you."

"Huh?"

Laughing, Mr Hanson put an arm around his son. "Why so formal? You're not too big to get a hug from your old man, you know."

Zac laughed weakly, then excused himself, disappearing into his bedroom.

"What's up with him?" Mr Hanson sat back down on the couch, twisting his mustache between his fingers.

Taylor sighed. "He's always like that these days."

"He was weird before I left," mused Mr Hanson. "But not that bad."

"Yeah, he got worse." Taylor shrugged. "Anyway, how's Mom? How's Jess? How's everyone?"

Isaac laughed. "I think he's homesick."

Mr Hanson smiled. "Well, they all send their love. Well, except Mackie. He sends you baseballs."

"Huh?"

"Don't ask."

"We won’t," Isaac assured him. "So, what's been going on?"

"Uh, Jess has a boyfriend. You know Seth Parker from down the street?"

"She's too young for a boyfriend!" Taylor sounded horrified.

Mr Hanson laughed. "Tay, it's only puppy love. Besides, she's thirteen. Okay, Avery's dancing the leading role in her ballet recital. So we're all going to see that when you guys come back. Mac's joined the local soccer team, and he's getting really into that, and Zoë's discovered the wonders of Barbies and has Jess and Avie's old ones scattered everywhere."

"Even Baldy Doll?" asked Isaac, referring to that Barbie that Zac had cut the hair off when he was six.

"No, we threw her out." Mr Hanson smiled. "So, Ike, how's Rhia?"

"Good. She's flying out here the day after tomorrow. I can't wait to see her."

"Yeah, we know," interjected Taylor. "Listen out tonight, Dad. You'll hear him moaning for Rhia in his sleep."

"Whatever," muttered Isaac.

"Well, I can hear you in my room."

"He's lying." Isaac waved his hand away dismissively.

"I am not!" giggled Taylor.

"He is!" Isaac wrapped his arm tightly around Taylor's neck, getting him in a headlock and wrestling him to the ground. Mr Hanson grabbed them both by the shirts and threw them against the sofa, and soon and full-blown wrestling match had started between the three of them; the yelps and shouts could probably be heard three apartments down.

In the doorway to his room, Zac stood, watching the father-son brawl taking place in front of him. Tears welling up in his eyes, he realized that he desperately wanted to be included in it, but he couldn't bring himself to join in. He was on the outside, looking in. Angrily wiping away his tears, mad at himself for being such a wimp, he slammed the door and rammed his headphones on, turning up the volume to block out the noise from the next room.

As the noise pounded in his ears, pulsating through his veins, Zac lay on his bed, feeling lonelier than he ever had before. And it was all his own fault.

***

Isaac rushed into the office, waving a bit of paper in the air. All nine pairs of eyes in the room turned to watch him in amusement as he danced about, pumping his fist in the air. He grabbed April and kissed her on the cheek, then hugged Taylor and Zac, bouncing all the time on the balls of his feet.

Taylor cleared his throat. "Umm…Ike? Care to share? Why are you so happy?" he asked, disentangling himself from his brother's exuberant embrace.

"We're going!"

"Going where?" Gabbie raised her eyebrows.

"Sarm Hook End just called. We're going to England!"

"Oh, my God!" Jamie jumped to her feet and ran to Isaac, throwing her arms around him and kissing him on this cheek, leaving a shimmering red print on his face. "Ike, you're the best!"

"We fly out on January fourth!" Isaac told them, his warm brown eyes shining in excitement.

"Oh, man, you guys'll love it there," promised Taylor. "It's like this huge house, and there's like a little cottage in the yard and it's all this beautiful countryside and everything… Oh, man!"

"Is it near London?" Jennie queried. "I wanna see Harrods and Harvey Nichols!"

"And Buckingham Palace!" Jamie jumped up and down on the spot, her chin length, dark brown bob brushing against her pale cheeks and her blue eyes shimmering as much as the silver glitter shadow on their lids. "This is so great!" She grabbed Ike and kissed him again.

"Ike?"

Isaac spun round, seeing Rhia standing in the door, surrounded by bags, dressed in baggy jeans and a black coat, blond hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and her green eyes shining with tears. "Rhia! God, honey, I wasn't expecting you this early!" He took his arm away from Jamie's shoulders and started towards her.

"Obviously not." Rhia stared at him sadly, then, leaving her luggage in the doorway to the office, turned and ran.

"Rhia!" Isaac bolted after her. "Rhia, wait!" He caught her arm, tugging her backwards. "Rhia…"

She turned round to stare at him, tears sliding down her face. "Let me guess, you can explain, right?"

"Yes." Isaac looked at her earnestly. "Come on, Ree." He tucked a strand of her hair that had escaped from her ponytail behind her ear. "Oh, God, I've missed you."

"Don't, Ike." She shook her head.

"Hear me out?" he asked. "Come on." He led her into the back room that Zac often used for studying and sat her down beside him. "Look…"

"Ike," she interrupted. "Before you explain, could you wipe the lipstick off your cheek?"

Isaac reddened, reaching for a Kleenex and wiping away Jamie's lipstick. "Okay. What you saw was a celebration."

Rhia's eyebrows raised skeptically. "Of what?"

"That's Jamie. She's the lead guitarist in Kindred Spirit."

Realization dawned in Rhia's eyes. "Oh, see, Ike, this is what I was talking about. You have your high-flying lifestyle thing going, and I'm just a college student. I'm tying you down. You and Jamie… Rock singer, record company executive… It's all making sense now."

Isaac shook his head. "Ree, it's not like that. You've got totally the wrong end of the stick here."


I wanna know, who ever told you I was letting go
Of the only joy that I have ever known,
Girl, they're lying
Just look around, and all the people that we used to know
Have just given up, they wanna let it go
But we're still trying

So you should know this love we share was never meant to die
I'm glad we're on this one way street just you and I
Just you and I


"I have?" Rhia asked, doubtfully. "I dunno, Ike. I always said this would happen, didn't I?"

"And I always said it wouldn't. Rhia, I love you. You know that. Jamie's just happy. We found a recording studio to record their album in, and she's just pleased about it. It's nothing else. I promise."

I'm never gonna say goodbye, cause I never wanna see you cry
I swore to you my love would remain, and I'd swear it all over again and I
I'm never gonna treat you bad, cause I never wanna see you sad
I swore to share your joy and your pain, and I'd swear it all over again

"Really?" Rhia still didn't look certain.

"Yes." Isaac took her hands. "Jamie's not interested in me, and I'm not interested in her. I have you, Rhia. You're all I want, and you're all I need."

Rhia started to cry again. "But how can that be true, Ike? I mean, Jamie's gorgeous. So were all those girls in there. Look at me. I'm just plain old Rhia." She looked him directly in the eye, her chin trembling and her green eyes welling up, tears glittering in the harsh light of the back room. The look in her eyes was a blend of hurt, confusion, doubt and desperation. She wanted to believe Isaac so badly, she loved him so much, but she just couldn’t. It had all looked too suss.

Some people say that everything has got its place and time,
Even the day must give way to the night
But I'm not buying
Cause in your eyes, I see a love that burns eternally
And if you see how beautiful you are to me
You'll know I'm not lying

Sure there'll be time we wanna say goodbye
But even if we tried
There are some things in this life won't be denied
Won't be denied

Isaac massaged his forehead with his hand. Talk about lousy timing for Rhia to turn up. But why did she have to make things so difficult? Why couldn't she just believe him? He knew that Jamie was an attractive girl; he wasn't blind, but she wasn't his attractive girl. That was Rhia, and only Rhia. She was standing in front of him wearing old clothes and messy hair, but to him, she was the most beautiful creature on Earth. He sighed, tugging absently at his hair. "Rhia, why do we have to keep doing this? I can't keep having this same argument over and over again… I love you, and you know that, Ree."

"I know you say that." Rhia's chin jutted out defiantly, and Isaac could just tell she wasn't going to make it easy for him.

"And I mean it when I say it, Rhia. Why can't you trust me?"

"I trust you. I don't trust everyone else." Something in her eyes softened, and she moved towards him, extending her hand, her thumb lightly stroking Isaac's cheek. "You're so beautiful, Isaac. I just can't believe you want me, and there's no way I'll believe that there's not one girl in New York City after you."

All of Isaac's bad thoughts about his girlfriend flew out of his head and his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. "Oh, Ree," he mumbled into her hair, "I wouldn't give a damn if Cameron Diaz, Cindy Crawford and Sarah Michelle Gellar were all after me. I have you, and you're all I want."

The more I see of you, is the more I know I love you
The more that I'm sure I want you for ever and ever more
And the more that I know, oh, that I'm never gonna let you go,
Gotta let you know that I…

I'm never gonna say goodbye, cause I never wanna see you cry
I swore to you my love would remain, and I'd swear it all over again and I
I'm never gonna treat you bad, cause I never wanna see you sad
I swore to share your joy and your pain and I'd swear it all over again

"Honest?" Rhia stared up at him, her green eyes hopeful.

"Honest." Isaac smiled. "Now can we stop being silly and can I welcome you home?"

Rhia broke into a grin. "I don't live in New York," she reminded him teasingly.

"Geez, neither you do." Isaac's liquid brown eyes sparkled as he played along, just grateful that Rhia had seen sense again. Maybe this time she would believe once and for all that he was faithful. "Well, I guess I can welcome you to New York, then we'll have to do it all over again when we get back to Tulsa."

"I can live with that." Rhia moved even closer, pushing her lips against his.

Isaac melted into the familiar sensation of her lips on his, realizing how much he'd missed it since he'd seen her in October, and thirsty for more. He pushed her backwards onto the sofa, and began to fiddle with the button on her jeans.

Rhia pulled her lips away from his. "Ike, no."

Isaac groaned. "I thought…"

"You think too much." Rhia squirmed out from underneath him, re-fastening her jeans and settling back against the sofa cushions, pulling Isaac over with her.

He nestled his head against her chest, tugging at her arms until they lay around his neck. He gazed apathetically up at her, the puppy dog look on his face making her giggle. "Don't laugh, Ree. When can we… You know? I mean, you're twenty years old and I'm twenty-one! And we've been together for like nearly two years. Taylor and Gabbie had only known each other for weeks and they did it."

"Yeah, and look what happened to them." Rhia stroked Isaac hair, squeezing him tightly. "Anyway, I doubt you're the only twenty-one year old virgin in the universe. I just want our first time to be special, honey. The moth-eaten sofa in your storage room wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

"How about if I book us a room in the-"

"Ike!" Rhia slapped him playfully. "Don't be so desperate, it's not appealing."

"It's not? Damn… I thought I was on to something there." He sighed resignedly and massaged his neck. It hurt, but he didn't feel like moving from his comfortable position, lounging across Rhia.

"Should we go back through?" asked Rhia. "Won't they be wondering where we are?"

"Nah. They'll know not to disturb us. They've probably forgotten about us." He grinned up at her. "They'll be too excited about going to England."

Rhia blinked. "England? Who's going to England?"

"Umm, we are." Isaac cursed himself silently for being such an idiot. He'd planned to break the news to Rhia gently.

"We as in who?" Rhia pushed Isaac off her lap and squared up to him, looking him directly in the eye.

"As in Kindred Spirit and me, Dad and Tay. We're going back to Berkshire to record the album." Isaac couldn't look at her. Instead, he chose to examine the threadbare sofa cushion, pulling at it.

"How long for?" Rhia's voice was quiet.

"I really don't know. Maybe a year. But we'll be coming home at times, and I can see you there."

"There's no need."

Isaac stared at her. Was she breaking up with him? "Look, Rhia, don't be rash here. I mean, it's not like they don't have telephones in England…"

"No, I mean…" Rhia took a deep breath. "I'm coming with you."

Isaac inhaled sharply. That hadn't been what he was expecting.

"Unless you don't want me to," she added uncertainly, seeing her boyfriend's dubious reaction.

Isaac took her hands. "No, no, Rhia, I'd love you to come. But what about your studies?"

"I can defer. It's no big deal. I'll take a semester out, a year out, whatever. I've always wanted to see Britain, Isaac. And college will still be here when I get back."

"Oh, God, that'd be so great!" He frowned. "But will the college let you?"

"I don't see why not. There've been plenty of other students who've done it."

"I can't believe this!" Isaac threw his arms around her, hugging her once more.

It was so great to have her back.

***

Isaac bit into a croissant then began to speak, sending little showers of flaky pastry floating down from his mouth. "Anyway, we…"

"Ugh!" Taylor waved his hands in the air in disgust. "Gross! Say it, Ike, don't spray it!"

"Mature," Isaac mumbled around his pastry, swallowing. "As I was saying, we called this meeting to just sort out the final details here, before we go home for Christmas." He flicked through some papers on his desk, then, finding what he was looking for, sat back to address the band, Gabbie and his brother. Rhia was at their apartment, doing some last minute packing for the trip home later that morning. His dad had gone to do some last minute Christmas shopping. Zac was missing. Quelle surprise, Isaac thought bitterly. It seemed to be standard practice these days for Zac to disappear. "We fly into London Stanstead on January 4th, leaving from Newark at five-fifty in the morning."

"Five-fifty!" Jamie's eyes bugged out and she dropped her breakfast croissant onto the little paper plates that the local bakery had provided. "What kind of time is that for a Trans-Atlantic flight?"

"Sorry," said Isaac absently, but he wasn't really. It wasn't like he could do anything about the flight times. "Okay, so, it's a nine-hour flight, and we land in Stanstead at about eight o'clock, UK time. We start recording ASAP, probably around the sixth or the seventh."

He looked up at the band, amused at the difference in the looks on their faces. Jamie still looked pissed at the early flight, her blue eyes set in a hard stare. Jennie was examining her nails, trying to smooth down a chip in the frosted-pink nail varnish. Niamh was staring out of the window; she looked a million miles away. Only Rachelle seemed vaguely interested, a small smile playing on her lips as she leafed through the flight arrangements. "Okay?" he asked, hoping for a response this time.

Jamie's face softened into a smile. "Yeah, that sounds great."

Taylor grinned. "Cool! So we-"

He was interrupted as the door flew open and Zac stumbled in, yawning and scratching his head. "Hey," he muttered, making a beeline for the coffeepot. "Can I have one?" He pointed to the three remaining almond croissants that sat on the plate.

"Where the hell have you been?" demanded Isaac. "You knew there was a breakfast meeting!"

"A breakfast meeting? You told me ten." Zac plopped down into a chair, biting into his pastry.

"Zac, we fly out to Tulsa at noon. We have to be at the airport for eleven. Hence the reason we're sitting in the office eating breakfast at eight in the morning!" Isaac stood up. "Why would I tell you ten? And where have you been? You drove in with us!"

"I fell asleep in the storage room. What's the big deal?"

Isaac silently counted to ten, willing the rage inside of him to subside, but it wouldn't. He gave up at six, finally exploding. "What's the big deal? God, Zac, are you like totally amoral? You don't know the difference between right and wrong? You've missed another meeting! Look, it's time for you to decide, Zac. Are you in or out of this whole thing, because we can't keep sitting around waiting for you!"

"What are you saying?" asked Zac, standing up too.

"I'm saying that unless you get your act together, you can stay in Tulsa after Christmas. You're no use to this business with that attitude, and all you're doing is making things worse, by making us try to work around you and include you when you don't even bother to show up!"

Zac stared at his brother, rage welling up inside of him. "Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you? You've been waiting for an excuse to pack me off back home! You never wanted me here in the first place, neither of you! Well, I'm sorry to have been such an inconvenience." He spun on his heel, running towards the door.

"Zac!" Taylor called weakly after him, but Zac ignored him, slamming the door shut behind him and bolting through the reception, ignoring April's questioning looks and straight into the storage room, flopping down onto the couch.

He blinked back the angry tears, resting his head in his hands. He hated himself for crying, for letting them get to him. They didn't want him here; they'd made that painfully obvious. But Zac wasn't giving in that easily. He was a quarter of this business and they had to remember that. He could hear Isaac's mocking tone of voice now: If you're a quarter of this business, you should put in the work to show it. Easy for Ike to say. He wasn't juggling schoolwork along with it. He tried his best to be a part of the company, but he was so tired all the time, or he had some huge assignment to do for his tutor. It wasn't fair, treating him like that.

Sighing, he wondered what had happened to the great relationship he'd had with his brothers only a couple of years ago. They'd been so close; they would've done anything for each other. Now, two of them wanted rid the other one, who hated them for it. Hardly a description of brotherly love.

He looked up as the door slowly opened. No doubt it was Taylor, coming to do his Good Brother routine. "Taylor, leave me alone!" he warned in a monotone. "I don't want your brother crap."

"How about some bitch crap?"

Zac's eyebrows raised in surprised as Rachelle Owen slipped around the door, smiling awkwardly at him. "What do you want?"

"I thought maybe you could use a friend." Rachelle sat gingerly down beside him on the sofa, keeping her distance. In her experience, Zac Hanson was volatile. You never knew when he would snap.

"I'm fine. And where exactly would this friend be?" he asked sarcastically, leaning sulkily back into the musty old sofa cushions.

Rachelle sighed, rolling her eyes. "Look, Zac, I know that we haven't exactly gotten off to a great start." Zac snorted; she ignored him. "But I want to be your friend."

"Yeah, sure you do."

"Are you okay?"

"Fine."

She nibbled on her black-painted fingernail, wishing she hadn't bothered. There was no point in trying to get through to him; she knew that. Zac had to be the most pig-headed person she had ever met. There was one person in his world and one person only. He seemed to think that it was him against the world, that he had nobody to care for him, but that was bullshit. It was blatantly obvious to her that so many people cared about Zac. Why was he so blind to it? Maybe he liked the whole isolated, wounded thing? She didn't know. She heaved a sigh, turning to face him. "They love you, you know."

"Who?" asked Zac dully.

"Isaac and Taylor."

"Yeah, so they do." Zac rolled his eyes sarcastically. "That's why they can't wait to get rid of me. That's why they're packing me off home to Tulsa."

Rachelle shook her head. "They can't wait to get rid of you because you're an asshole."

"Why don't you say what you really think?" spat Zac sarcastically. "Don't mind that I'm sitting right here."

"I wouldn't say it to you if you weren't right here," she replied, unabashed. "You've been treating them like shit."

"How would you know?" demanded Zac angrily. Just who was this drummer girl, barging in on his life with her accusations and her Psych 101 theories? Why couldn't she just leave him alone?

"I heard Ike talking to your dad. God, you don't know how lucky you are!" She ran her fingers through her long black hair. "You really don't, do you? You're such an idiot! You have all these wonderful people who love you and want the best for you…"

"Nobody loves me," Zac told her flatly.

Rachelle clenched her fists, feeling the rage bubble inside of her. Unable to stop herself, she brought her hand up sharply, slapping Zac on the right cheek.

"What the fuck are you playing at?!" Zac yelled, shoving her away from him.

She jumped to her feet, trembling in anger. "You listen to me, you jerk!" she screamed, not caring if anyone could hear her. "You're an ungrateful little shit, Zac Hanson! Look at this, just look at it!" She grabbed her purse and rummaged through it, producing her black wallet and ripping it open. "Look!" She threw it at him, her trembling voice strangely commanding.

Zac picked it up and peered closely at it. There, beside a photo of a dark-haired boy, was a small picture of he and his brothers, taken in the Hanson glory days of 1997, he guessed. They were all lying together on a couch, Taylor and Isaac's arms around each other and Zac lying across them, his head in Taylor's lap. "It's us. Why do you have a five year old picture of us in your wallet?"

"I was a fan. But look at it! Look how you're sitting!"

"It was a photoshoot. You're told how to sit," Zac explained. "It doesn't mean anything."

"Like hell it doesn't!" snapped Rachelle. "You're so lucky, Zac. These guys love you more than anything in the world, and what do you do? You throw it back in their faces, you act like an ass, you won't let anybody in… What do you think it's doing to them?"

Zac stared at her. "I'm confused here." He raised an eyebrow. "What in the name of God does this have to do with you? You're just some weirdo Goth chick who happens to be in some band who we happen to have signed. I really don't think it's your place to go telling me how I should behave and what I should and shouldn't be doing!"

Rachelle suddenly flopped down onto the couch, her anger gone. She rested her head on her knees for a few moments, then sat up, her dark eyes glittering strangely. "I'm not telling you what to do, Zac."

"Whatever! It's all you've ever done! I've had about four conversations with you in my whole entire life, and each time, you're telling me to do this, do that, making judgements on me, insulting me, telling me what kind of person you think I am! Even under that tree that day in Tulsa. You really get off on it, don't you?"

She sighed. "No, I don't. I'm just giving you some advice. Take it from someone who knows, Zac, you really don't know what you've got till it's gone."

"Yeah, and we'll all find paradise in the parking lot," sneered Zac. "Big Joni Mitchell fan, are you?"

Rachelle wiped her eyes and stood up. "This is pointless. You know what, Zac? It's your life. Feel free to screw it up whatever way you like. Just don't say I didn't warn you." She turned on her heel and walked slowly out of the room.

"Yeah, and don't come back, you jumped up bitch," Zac muttered, throwing an empty soda can at the closing door.

He raked his hand through his hair angrily, kicking the wall in frustration. He didn't know why he let her get to him so much. She didn't know what she was talking about, did she? No, he answered his own question. She doesn't have a clue. So why did her words make him feel so chilled inside?

Chapter Three
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