Somehow, Pilar had managed to not look at him for the remainder of the set. Unfortunately, every time she happened to place her hand on her hip or behind her back, she kept imagining what his hand would feel like in its place. By the time they got to "Come Over Tonight," the last song on the set list, her aggravation with herself was reflected quite clearly in her voice. The song came over much too aggressively, and she could feel herself getting hoarse. Violet eyed her curiously. The others just looked confused as they watched Pilar stalk offstage at the end of the show without saying anything to them or the audience. They turned to look at Kay, who seemed to best understand the cock-eyed machinations of Pilar's mind. She looked just as lost and merely shrugged before bending down to start striking the stage.

It was getting quite cool in the parking lot outside the Connecticut. Pilar blew some cigarette smoke distractedly and shivered as she leaned against the van. She rubbed at her face, waiting for Lorelei to finish padding her drum kit and close the doors so they could all leave. With Arnold beating a quick retreat back to Florida, most of their money was gone and there was nothing left in the budget for a hotel room. It was a long drive back to Jacksonville, and she wasn't looking forward to sleeping in the van. To make matters worse, the box of CDs they had been planning to sell after the show was in Arnold's trunk. He'd probably go skeet shooting with them, or something. Pilar had only suspected it before, but she was now fully convinced he was the devil.

Lorelei suddenly materialized beside her, making Pilar jump. "I'm going inside to use the bathroom and round up the others." Pilar nodded absentmindedly.

Several minutes went by. Then ten. Then fifteen. Pilar could feel herself getting annoyed. After a moment's hesitation, she strode back inside, fully prepared to chew the others out. She was tired and hungry and wanted to leave.

The sight awaiting her inside was not quite what she expected. Her bandmates were seated near the stage, drinking and laughing delightedly. Pilar recognized their companions as the occupants of Table 5. She shuffled resentfully over to them. Violet was the first to notice her. Her face broke into a smile as she waved Pilar over.

"Pilar! Hey! Come sit down! Oh, my god, you won't believe what just happened! This is sick .... " Her attention was immediately drawn back to the conversation around her. Pilar looked confused, but obeyed, pulling up a chair and plopping down.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" she grimaced. "I've been waiting outside for half an hour." Campbell pushed a half-finished beer in Pilar's general direction and promptly turned her attention back to the others. Sighing resignedly, Pilar put the bottle to her lips and took a resentful drag on her cigarette.

"Hello."

Pilar turned to her right. A young man in black plastic frames was holding out his hand, waiting for her to shake it. He had a pleasant, open face. Pilar squinted an eye thoughtfully as she studied him for a moment before taking his hand in hers. It was warm and dry, and squeezed just hard enough.

"I'm Ryan," he continued. "Ryan Gentles." He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but Violet interrupted, her voice chirping excitedly.

"He's the manager for The Strokes! This is them." Pilar glanced over at Violet, giving her a slightly scolding look before turning back to Ryan.

"Hi. How you doin'?" she answered, somewhat dispassionately. Ryan looked over at Violet for a moment, then laughed through his nose at her animated behavior. Pilar decided she liked him. "So. What's this oh-so-exciting thing that just happened?" she asked, imitating Violet.

Ryan leaned back in his seat and turned slightly toward her, draping a thin arm over the back of his chair. "I really enjoyed your show." He frowned introspectively a moment and seemed to change his mind. "I thought it was fuckin' fantastic, actually." He laughed at himself.

Pilar smiled slightly. "Well, the only thing better than fantastic, is fuckin' fantastic. That's what my mother always used to say."

Ryan's eyebrows knitted for a moment at the fleeting look of pain he could swear he saw flickering in her eyes. Before he could identify it, it was completely gone.

"So," Pilar continued. "I find it difficult to believe you thought my friends here were so utterly enchanting you just had to buy them a drink and charm them with a barrage of compliments and bon mots."

"I do, actually," he chuckled. "What's the matter? You don't agree?"

She gave him a look of utter disdain. "You haven't been trapped in a van with them for six weeks. Frankly, I'd rather be buried alive in a coal mining accident."

He threw his head back and laughed. Pilar smirked slightly and waited for him to speak again. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him examining her prospectively. Normally, she would have been annoyed, but there was nothing sexual about his consideration. "It's a shame you don't get along. Makes me wonder how you'd handle being trapped in a tour bus with them for two months."

Pilar looked mystified. "What are you talking about?" she asked, exhaling a brief laugh. He smiled beatifically.

Campbell, who had been listening for the past minute or so, finally spoke up. "Ryan wants us to open for The Strokes," she announced rather plainly.

Shock flashed through Pilar's tired brain. "Come again?" Campbell didn't answer except for a Cheshire Cat-like grin. Pilar stuttered. "I can't ... I can't even ... I'm sorry, but it's like my brain can't even get the synapses lined up in order to force that sentence to make sense to me." She turned to look slightly agog at Ryan. "Are you asking us to go on tour with you? To actually play an opening set?" He nodded slowly, a smile spreading across his face at her slightly shell-shocked reaction. Pilar scrambled for an intelligible sentence that didn't include the words "uh, um" or "er."

"Jesus Christ."

Julian took a sip of his beer. "Wow. That's very concise."

She ignored him.

"But I don't understand." She looked deep into Ryan's face, as if trying to discern if this were all just some intricately plotted practical joke designed specifically for the purpose of breaking her heart and making her head explode. "I don't understand. It's not like we're signed, or anything. We don't even have a ... well, yeah. I guess we don't even have a manager, anymore." She made a face.

"What happened with your manager?" Ryan asked, looking genuinely concerned.

Violet bounced in her seat. "We found out he was skimming money off the profits we made playing gigs and we fired him. Right before Pilar threw a television and a guitar at his head." She said this last part so matter-of-factly, the boys didn't quite know how to react. There was a moment of complete and utter silence before they all burst out laughing.

Out of the corner of her eye, Pilar could see Julian grinning maliciously in appreciation. A slight and unexpected thrill went through her. For a moment, she tried to resist looking over at him, but it was pointless. Their eyes met, and she could feel her throat constrict. There was something familiar about him. But it went beyond the incidental genetic makeup of any physical characteristic, like pointing someone out in a police lineup. There was something about the way his hair fell over his eyes, the way his mouth would screw up at the corner disdainfully, the way his hands lay on the table by his drink. It was almost like they were qualities she recognized in someone she knew long ago. There was also something remarkably wounded in his eyes. A sense that there was a wall, but behind it, something still beat valiantly to break free again. It was like something she recognized in herself.

Pilar had no idea how long they had been looking at each other, silent and strangely content. Julian frowned as if a thought had occurred to him, but his gaze didn't waver.

Julian was the first to blink when he realized Ryan was talking to him. With an effort, he dragged his eyes away from Pilar's face to look at the man next to him.

"What, now?"

Ryan looked vaguely annoyed. "I said, 'What do you think?' I think it's a great idea. The sound of their band really complements The Strokes, I think. But it's got a different edge to it. It's, like ... " He trailed off thoughtfully, staring at the tabletop as if the appropriate description were carved in the wood. "It's like it's feminine, and more sophisticated, but with a similar Rock sensibility." He looked back up at Julian expectantly, but he had already turned his attention back to Pilar, who was, in turn distracted by a chirruping Violet.

"U-huh. Yeah. I think so, too."

Ryan looked a little bemused. He turned his head slightly to follow the direction of Julian's intent gaze. Suddenly, his face cleared in understanding. "Oh-hhhhh."

Julian's eyes snapped back to look at Ryan. "Oh, what?" There was a defensive, warning quality to his tone.

Ryan put his hands up as if in surrender. "Nothing." He shook his head and shrugged for emphasis. "Nothing."

Julian was unconvinced, but was too tired to pursue the topic and eventually turned his attention back to his beer. Ryan looked him over a moment longer before turning back to the others. If there was one thing Ryan had learned during the course of his relationship with Julian, it was that it was not a good idea to let him know you had one up on him. Julian hated the thought that someone knew something he didn't know. Especially if it involved him. He hated having secrets kept from him, but had no problem having them for himself. He knew it was hypocritical, but didn't care.

Lorelai was speaking.

"Okay. So what now? I mean, say we do agree to this — " She broke off and put a halting hand up when the others started to protest. "And it looks like we will," she continued in a chastising tone. "I just want to know what to expect. I mean, are we going to have to spring for everything? Like hotel rooms and stuff? What about transportation? I mean, are we going to have to humiliate ourselves by following your lovely, shiny tourbus around the country in my Mom's van? I mean, seriously. Give me a break." She leaned back in her seat and folded her arms expectantly.

Ryan smiled gently. "My dear, you won't have to worry about a thing. I'll take care of everything. I'll take care of you."

Lorelei was silent a moment, taking this all in. If there was one thing she liked, it was being taken care of. Despite her protestations that she was a liberated, independent woman, there was still a side of her that reveled in having all her problems resolved for her and being spoiled absolutely stinking rotten. She batted her lashes. "Well. I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." She paused to take a sip of her drink. "And it hasn't gotten me killed. Yet." She and Ryan smiled at each other, almost conspiratorially.

Ryan was good on his word. He had fought and persuaded and fought some more. In the end, where The Strokes were concerned, RCA and Rough Trade could be remarkably indulgent. RCA arranged for the girls to have a bus of their own. Admittedly, it was a bit old and small, but much more wasn't to be expected for a bunch of unsigned newcomers. The fact that they could all sleep at the same time and not have to worry about drooling on each other in cramped quarters was enough to send them all into fits of ecstasy. As if that weren't enough, they were allowed to borrow several roadies. Lorelei nearly fainted at the mere concept of not having to load and unload her drum kit by herself. Hotel rooms were provided, but there were only two rooms to be split up between the five of them. It was agreed that personality-wise it would be best if Violet and Pilar stayed together, while Kay, Campbell and Lorelei shared a room. Kay and Campbell, having been best friends since the second grade, shared a bed amicably.

The morning of the first day, Pilar wandered out of the New York hotel room Ryan had arranged for them to stay in after things had been settled back home in Florida and with the record company. She looked up into the remarkably blue sky and inhaled deeply. She felt so unbelievably at peace and so incredibly content with the world around her. It was like fate had reached down into their lives and twisted things about so that they could finally catch a break. After some, frankly, fucked up events in her life, Pilar could finally feel a weight lifting from her shoulders and see for the first time in a long time that things could actually be good for her. Very, very good.

"What are you thinking about?"

Pilar turned around to see Nick wandering out the lobby doors and toward her. She grinned back at him from behind her large Jackie-O shades. "Nuthin'," she drawled teasingly. Dammit, she was happy.

He wrinkled his nose in mock disgust. "You look awfully pleased with yourself. What did you do?"

She cocked her head and huffed, pretending to be insulted. "Nothing! I swear! I'm just really really really really happy, is all."

"Again. What did you do?" he deadpanned.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm just happy that we seem to actually be getting somewhere."

Nick waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, that. Well, you'll get over that soon."

"Spoilsport."

He folded his arms. "You're such a child. Tsk. So naïve."

She gave him a look. "Oh, please. I'm probably older than you. And I know I must outweigh you by about fifty pounds." She eyed his chicken legs prospectively.

He played the modest Victorian and covered his legs with his hands. "I say, are you looking at my nobbly knees?!"

She bent over slightly as if examining them. "Wow. I'm not sure, but I think I could start a fire with those things."

She was impressed when his reaction was to throw his head back and laugh heartily and good-naturedly. Pilar liked it when a man could laugh at himself.

They were still chuckling and throwing quips back and forth when an army of buses, private cars and vans finally pulled up and waited for the rest of the cast and crew to board. Pilar prepared to follow Kay up the stairs to settle down for the trip to New Jersey when she felt a tug at her shirt. She turned her head to find Nick with his hand hooked in her jacket pocket. Pilar raised an eyebrow in question.

Nick jerked his head towards the Strokes bus. "Why don't come sit with me for a while. I want to show you some of my etchings." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Pilar laughed, although her first instinct was to say no. But his eyes were so big and blue and inviting. She was torn between wanting to talk to him some more and not wanting to abandon her best friends on the first day of their tour. Relief came when Kay's voice floated down to her.

"Go ahead, Pil," she chuckled. "But come back soon. I'm sure Lorelei will start to miss you before too long."

"Piss off!"

Kay seemed to reconsider. "Or not."

Pilar shrugged to herself. "I love you, Lorelei!" she called, backing down the steps.

"Didn't I tell you to piss off?!" Lorelei fairly shrieked. Pilar laughed at her and followed Nick to his bus.