• Tomorrow Will Be Different • {J.C} (P.1)

• Chapter Two •

They walked the streets of Manhattan feeling on top of the world. They were riding the high from the energy of the crowd they'd left behind back at the lounge.

Albert had left Julian there, walking home with the rest of his bandmates as they shared a joint together, passing it back and forth until opting for nicotine.

"If we played like that every night... man, we'd be the best thing since Zeppelin." Nick announced proudly. His skinny 6"4 frame towered over the people that passed them on the street—unwittingly stepping past a group of young men destined for greatness.

"Jules would beg to differ." Nikolai stated. There was an uncomfortable smile on his face—all were in understanding of the harsh reality Nik had just so casually spoken.

"We'll get to hear all about it tomorrow. Nick, you fucking started too late in A minor—you switched too fast. Fabrizio, you small fuck, why the hell would you hit that hi-hat before Al dropped into the bridge, huh?" Nick mocked Julian, dropping his voice low, impersonating him with a slight slur and mumble.

Nothing could bring Albert down from his high—not even the critiques he knew Julian had lined up for him—nothing.

Except for the sight of Erin's car still parked on the street in front of the record store.

"Wait, wait, wait... hang on." Albert stopped dead in his tracks, looking across the street to Erin's car. "You guys go on without me, I'll catch up." Al waved them away, starting across the rather busy road.

"That's what people say just before they get murdered, you know that right?" Nick yelled over a honking horn as Albert crossed the road. He turned around, giving Nick two birds instead of one as he casually strolled through traffic.

He stood on the sidewalk, placing a cigarette between his lips as he observed his sleeping friend through the passenger side window. Her seat extended all the way into the backseat—into a few large duffel bags. The nook of her back window was filled with neatly folded blankets.

Al lit the end of his cigarette before bending down in front of the window to tap on the glass. Erin stirred, but didn't wake, prompting Albert to tap the window a little harder.

Erin's eyes peeled open with a grimace—then she suddenly realized who was standing outside the window of her car. She scrambled to sit up, pulling the lever to set her seat upright before cranking down the window.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Al asked, taking a long draw of his cigarette. He tapped off the excess ashes, waiting impatiently for Erin to explain herself.

"Sleeping."

"No shit—I mean what are you doin in your car... on the street?" Al didn't wait for an explanation. "You have any idea how fucking dangerous this is? Manhattan is crawling with freaks at night."

"I'm looking at one right now." Erin teased; though her expression was deadpan. She knew what Albert was saying to be true; however, her options were limited. In fact, sleeping in her car outside of work was her safest option.

Al sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Unlock the door."

"Why?"

"Because we're taking your car back to my place." Albert made his way around the car, his hand on the handle, waiting for Erin to lean over and unlock it.

Erin groaned, doing as Albert insisted before he climbed in behind the wheel.

"Well... where're your keys?"