New Huntington, CA
1965

“Amelia Johnston! I will not have you ruining your life with some lowlife scum!”

Amelia trembled as she clutched, close to her breast, the piece of paper Matthew had shoved hurriedly in her hand as her father’s man had practically dragged her out of the theatre.

“Dad, you don’t even know him.”

“I know his type.” The scorn in her father’s tone cut deep. She sat hard on leather couch feeling the sweaty material sticking to her legs. His gaze was sharp, accusatory. “He will use you then move on to the next girl with no thought of your feelings.”

“Dad…he’s not like that,” Amelia spoke softly lifting her eyes to his stern gaze.

“No? And I suppose you’ve managed to get to know everything about him in the five minutes you’ve known him?” The Senator’s expression was one of cold disbelief. Amelia hesitated but her father went on, sarcasm heavy in his voice. “Oh, but wait, you’ve been to see his Godforsaken band every time they play for the last five months. So, I guess you think you know him very well.”

Amelia didn’t respond. What could she say? What he said was true. At least about going to Assassin’s shows. Her eyes absently took in the room she was sitting in. It was opulent, fit for a king, or at least for a highly decorated politician. Such as her father. The fleeting glance of the large leather lounges and the floral drapes…

“Amelia. Amelia Greta Johnston, you will listen when I am talking to you.”

She blinked, refocusing on her father. He looked almost like a too ripe tomato. Definitely too angry to make any sensible decisions. Or pass judgement on her.

“Dad, please stop. I’ll stop going if you really want me to.” The submission in her tone disgusted her, but she was just acting the way he wanted her too, and it was a lot easier than fighting him when he was in a mood.

He sighed and sat down opposite her. “I am only saying this for the security of your future. I want the best for you.”

Amelia gave a fake smile. “Of course, Dad.”

He waved a hand at her. “Go to your room…you have school in the morning.”

She escaped to her room. Situated at the east end of the house she had a view of the perfectly manicured back lawn that was her father’s pride and joy. He often spent hours out there walking around the perimeter, rehearsing speeches or smoking one of his cigars. It was kind of endearing, but most of the time it just frustrated Amelia because she wished her father would spend more time taking notice of her. And not just when he imagined she was doing the wrong thing.

Amelia sat on the edge of her bed which afforded her a broad view of the room. The large white dresser took all of the west facing wall. Draped over the edge was a red ribbon that was originally wrapped around two red roses that Matthew had thrown to her from the stage at one of the band’s shows. The frayed ends of the ribbon made her think of the way she was feeling. It wasn’t easy being the daughter of the prominent politician in New Huntington. People talked…and maybe that’s partially why he was so strict with her. So she wouldn’t give them a reason to gossip.

Sighing, Amelia allowed her mind to wander to the band. They were another escape for her. Wild and nothing like the well-ordered life that she lived. Memories of the first time she went to see the band perform were dear to her. Some of the boys at school couldn’t stop talking about them and she’d asked one of them, much to the poor boy’s surprise, what the band was like. And that was where it started…

And then she met Matthew. Matthew. The wild child. The kind of male her dad warned her about – rude, unkempt, unambitious. But, the rough, hard outer appearance that he showed the world was not the real Matthew. Amelia knew it sounded trite, but he truly did have a heart of gold and a mind of a poet. Not surprisingly he was the band’s lyricist and in all honesty what he wrote were some of the most heartfelt songs she had ever heard.

Her dad’s assessment of Matthew was unfair and just plain wrong. He was hard working and loyal to a tee. And he loved everyone he met. His friendly, outgoing nature was what attracted her to him in the first place. And the fact that he actually listened to everything she said and made her feel like she mattered. And it wasn’t just a front. He wasn’t trying to get her to do anything she didn’t want. He just genuinely wanted to get to know her.

Amelia smiled at those thoughts as she stood and went to her desk where her books were spread out over the top. Sitting, she took a deep breath, pushing all thoughts of the band from her mind. Focussing on her school work was important, it was going to be her way of getting out from under her father’s thumb. Her future was going to be what she wanted…


7th March 2013
Long Beach, CA

Zacky was angry. Everyone felt it. Had been for days. He wouldn’t talk to any of them, keeping himself busy with his tapes and refusing to join in writing sessions. It was unsettling. But, Zacky didn’t care, he was too mad. Too angry. The Creed knew they were in Long Beach. Major Thom had betrayed them. And Matthew wasn’t doing anything about it. That got to him. It really did.

“Damn it.”

Johnny looked up from his first bottle of Jack for the day. “V?”

Zacky shoved his papers away from him, tossing his pen angrily over the desk. He muttered a few choice curses and stood up, swinging around to face the younger male.

“Enough. I’ve had enough. I want to know what the Hell is going on in that idiot’s head.”

Johnny blinked. “What idiot?”

Zacky groaned. “Shads…”

Johnny blinked again as he set his bottle down on the box next to his foot. “Well, I don’t know what’s going on in his head, but while you were avoiding us he told us that the Major wants us to have dinner with him and his family.”

The mechanic stared at him then stood up abruptly and stormed off; though his furious exit was foiled by the equipment that littered the floor. And the fact that there wasn’t really anywhere to go. He ignored the bemused looks that Brian and Arin sent him as he made his way to the other end of the bunker where a gym was set up. Matthew was sitting on a bench working through a set of bicep curls, brow furrowed in concentration.

Zacky ground his molars together, trying to settle the seething anger in his mind before he spoke. Matthew’s gaze lifted slightly for a moment then returned to a point on the wall behind him.

Zacky worked his jaw some more then spoke angrily. “We’ve been here three years! Three years, Shads!” He gestured around the bunker. Then pointed at himself. “I’ve been working my ass off, we all have! And now The Creed has found us and you’re not doing anything about it! I mean, what the Hell, Shads?” This last made him sound so wounded that his friend finally looked at him and didn’t move his gaze away.

Zacky waited for him to make up some excuse or to try and explain himself but instead his lips twisted upwards.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a lazy smile.

“Excuse me?” Zacky stared at his friend, incredulity in his face. “Don’t worry about it? Don’t worry about it?”

Matthew set his weight down and picked up his towel, wiping it over his face. “It’ll be alright.”

“Alright?” Zacky’s eyebrows shot up in his hairline.

“Yes.” His friend smiled again. “We’re seeing the Major tonight.” As if that made everything better. Right.

Zacky scoffed, “Oh, and I suppose you’re going to ask him if he’s betrayed us. Right to his face?”

“No need.” Matthew stood and started to walk across to the living space.

“What?” The mechanic looked non-plussed. His friend flopped on the sofa next to Arin, and tilted his head slightly as the younger male looked between them.

“You should stop being so mad about it. Think what it’s doing to Arin here.” Matthew nodded slightly toward the man next to him. Arin frowned slightly, shaking his head.

“Nothing doing,” he said, quietly.

“Fuck…” Zacky shook his head, exasperation all over his face. “Just. I don’t get you.” The anxiety he felt was tangible. It was eating him from the inside out. The stress wasn’t a new thing either. Ever since Melissa set foot in the bunker all the worries that had been background noise over the past years were now hurtling at him full force. And he didn’t know whether he could withstand it anymore.

Matthew sighed as he said, “Trust me, Zacky. I know what I’m doing.”

Zacky growled and said, “You’d better. Because I don’t want to be the one to tell you I told you so.”

“It won’t come to that.” Matthew sounded so sure of himself that the mechanic didn’t know how to respond, so he retreated back to his desk, sighing loudly to indicate his displeasure. There was no response forthcoming from his friend and wasn’t that just another thing to worry about.

Notes

Wow. Finally. An update. Please let me know your thoughts. This chapter has been a long time in writing and I apologise. I woke up this morning and the pieces I needed for this chapter just fell into my lap. I hope it gets you thinking and intrigued for more.