JACK

I walked around the corner of the stage. Immediately, I noticed a beautiful girl, who was a few inches shorter than me and appeared to be in her twenties. The next thing I saw was the tall druggie-looking guy, pinning her to the wall and screaming at her. I started towards them, prepared to calmly ask what the problem was. Then he hit her. I felt my blood turn hot and rush to my face. My hands began shake as I shouted, "What the hell? Did you just fucking hit her?" They both turned to look at me, eyes wide with surprise. The girl was crying, and her nose was bleeding down her front. The side of her face where she received the blow was already starting to swell and bruise.

"Stay the fuck out of this!" The guy yelled at me. "I'm just teaching this little bitch not to take shit that doesn't belong to her." The girl continued to sob. I must say, I'm not proud of what happened next. I probably wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been drinking. But, I took a swing at him, connecting with the side of his face. He flung various profanities at me, but then ran away. I turned to the girl, taking in the damage to her face.

"I don't think its broken, but you're definitely bleeding and will have a bruise." I said to her. She merely nodded. Poor thing's probably in shock. "Trust me. I've dealt with plenty of broken noses." Still, nothing.

"Come with me," I said, and took her by the hand. "I'll get you cleaned up."

I led her back to the bus, careful to avoid all people, especially security. I couldn't have them asking questions.

------

KAY

"Here, hold this to your face," the guy said, handing me a wet cloth. "I'll go find you a shirt."

I took the cloth and gingerly pressed it to my face. I still had no clue where the hell I was or who this guy was, but he was helping me out, so I was okay with it. It looked like I was in some kind of RV. My head hurt like a bitch.

"Here, put this on. It might be kind of big, but it is the best I've got." He said with a sigh. The shirt was slightly big. I held itup. It was purple with BONER printed across the front in black. RIght then, it hit me. Oh my god! This is Jack Barakat! I'm in All Time Low's tour bus! He just gave me his shirt! He saved me. Oh my god. Jack Barakat punched my ex boyfriend in the face.

"You're...you're Jack Barakat." I whispered.

"Yeah...who are you?" He said.

"Kay Meyers. Thank you, by the way, for helping me out. I don't think I said that yet. I'm still a little dazed."

"That's all right. And don't thank me. I did what any other guy should have done. " He said. "Here, let me help." He took the cloth from my hand and began to gently clean the blood off of my face and neck. I probably looked like a wreck, and there I was, in front of my idol, attempting to not fangirl as he wipes blood off of my face. Just my freaking luck. I felt myself tear up again as he blotted a particularly tender spot to the left of my nose. Fucking shit. Don't you fucking cry. Great. He probably thinks he hurt you. Dumb ass. A tear rolled down my cheek.

"Hey, hey, don't cry," he said. "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry."

"No, no, no! You didn't hurt me at all! It's just a lot to take in. I just got punched in the face, then Jack Barakat came out of who knows where, punched my ex, then brought me to his tour bus. Its pretty surreal. And I kind of look like shit right now, so you pro-"

"No, shut up." He cut me off. "I don't want to hear that. You look as beautiful as a girl punched in the face can possibly look." He said, slightly sarcastic. I blushed.

"I'm gonna put this shirt on, now." I said, turning around.

"Here, there is a bathroom back here." He said, grabbing my hand and leading me to it. I went inside to discover there wasn't really that much room to change with the door shut. I looked up at him.

"Don't worry, I won't peek." He winked, then walked away. I stripped off both of my tank tops and prayed he really wasn't looking. I was only in my bikini top. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't care. But, my back was to him. Let me explain. My back is covered in scars. Different words, scratches, cuts. Sean made them all, slamming me into walls, cutting me, you name it. He carved SLUT right below my left shoulder blade several months ago when he thought I was cheating on him with my best friend, Andy.

I pulled the shirt over my head. It was a little big, but I liked it. It smelled like cologne. Jack managed to get all of the blood off of me, so I pulled my make up bag out of my back pack and began to try and cover the bruising. It didn't really help. I tied my hair up into a knot and walked back to where he was. He didn't act shocked or anything, so I assumed he didn't see the scars.

"Um, Jack?" I said. "Do you, I mean, if it isn't too much trouble, will you walk around with me for a while? I don't really want to run into Sean again." Embarrassed, I looked at the ground. He probably thinks I'm weak. Or stupid. Why would he want to walk with me, anyway?

"Sure. Sounds like fun," he said with a grin.

Surprised, I responded, "Okay. You wanna go now?"

We walked off of the bus, back into the heat.