This song is for the people who live this dream.

[against_all_trouble]

Arthur Black was sitting on the couch trying to tune his guitar, but his perpetually-indecisive roommate has decided that this week she is a singer again.

"Come on, Art, I'm a good singer!" Suzy pleads with big eyes and a bigger wave.

"Suze. That is not the thing that worries me, Suze," Arthur says as he sets down his guitar to the side, "The thing that worries me is that this week you want to sing and the next you'll be back to sculpture. Or painting. Or found-object collages. Or interpretive-freaking-dance!"

"Interpretive dance is silly, Art, why would I do that? And anyway, you know you want to try some of the vocals you wrote ♫ for ♫ high ♫ voices! ♫"

That's two things Arthur is not good at refusing: chances to show off and requests from Susanna Blue. The look he gives back, though, is definitely a scowl. Not a smirk at all. "One of these days, you're going to wear out your welcome... with everyone but me. OK, show up to tonight's practice a little after we start, I'll bring the guys around."

"Yay! You're still the best, Art." She really is happy, that hug was only about a third tackle.

---

Practice comes and goes, and the rest of No Rainbows goes along with Suzy's request. Arthur isn't explicitly in charge, but he's a big personality and the group started out of bluegrass jam sessions he organized, so they're used to following his lead. And her voice is pretty good.

A couple nights later, they are all setting up in the back of an Atlanta restaurant. Suzy's helping Arthur set up the amps while there's still space to move things around near the stage while the other three tune up.

Comments

[against_all_trouble]

"That's why I wanted to wait. Unless they tracked the car-" he glances out the window "-and if they did, they haven't parked nearby, then if they do know where I live, they've gotten there and found no sign of me. Maybe even left, by now. So we can go in quietly, check whether things have been disturbed, and have the car still running in case of trouble. It's not exactly James Bond, but short of never going home until we steal a car or something, I'm not sure how we could do better. And I don't think I'm scared enough to go on without planning first."

[sing_for_the_tears]

This seems flawed, to Erica- most notably, there's no good way to tell how long it would take them to determine a) Suze is the wrong person and b) Art is- but she leaves it for now. They're not looking for her yet, as far as she knows, it's not her risk to take. And whatever happens, she will learn things about the scary men; how they operate, how fast they operate, maybe even what they're looking for.

She's aware that this is probably manipulative and selfish of her, compared to Art who has been nothing but nice and helpful to her. She decides not to care. She'd rather be paranoid than sorry.

"If they tracked your car, they probably wouldn't have had to grab her at a concert," she theorizes instead. "I mean, if they already knew where you were, no reason to find you in public." She shrugs. "What kind of planning were you thinking?"

[against_all_trouble]

"Oh, I don't know. Gathering cash and valuables, spare guitars to either play or sell, sending messages to old friends - old band members who moved away, people like you I helped in the past, I keep in touch - that I'm traveling and might pop up on their doorstep, selling this car and getting a station wagon or a cheap camper-van... I'd have to think about it, is the point. Did you leave home blind?"

Is he going to get back to his story? Meh, it can wait for later, this is important.

[sing_for_the_tears]

"Sort of yes, sort of no? I mean, I didn't just up and leave, or anything. I planned for months to get out. But I was planning to get out, y'know? I didn't really have a plan past 'get to Atlanta.' I've been improvising." She nods at her backpack, lying next to them on the floor. "S'why my bag comes with me everywhere."

[against_all_trouble]

"I can understand that, I might have done the same in your place. But I'm used to being the one who thinks about how things will go wrong and plans for it; Suzy's worst than most, but try to join a band yourself and you'll see, it's basically everyone who's scatterbrained and overoptimistic. Every time I thought it might have been excessive, it wasn't. It's part of how I've helped my past 'lost puppies', actually. I give them a place to rest and think, and help them figure out a direction they can go."

[sing_for_the_tears]

Erica considers. "Okay," she says, "how's this. We make a plan here: everything we need to hide by ourselves, and everything we'd need to hide with Suze. Then we go to your place, gather everything we can, and then- try to sing her back. Somehow."

"If that doesn't work, we take off, try to hunt them down. Make a new plan if and when we find her. If it does, we take off with her, and figure it out from there."

She wants, more than anything, to include Tommy in these plans somehow. She's telling herself it's "for his protection." If she can do this, surely her brother could, too? But she knows it's just because she's missing him, and it will just endanger him. So she won't mention him, or try to plan around him.

She'll just miss him.

[against_all_trouble]

Arthur cocks his head to the side for a few moments and stares at a point over Erica's shoulder. "Yeah, sounds right. K, what do we need? Money, transportation that they haven't seen before, contacts... instruments? Busking would be risky, at least in Atlanta.. "

[sing_for_the_tears]

"Your ID, as many forms of it as you can get," she contributes. Her need for a fake ID is vivid in her memory. "Basic traveling stuff- y'know, clothes, whatever. Phones, eventually, but it doesn't matter unless we split up."

She thinks about the busking problem, humming slightly out of habit. "We might want to head for Nashville? It's not that far, and one more set of buskers wouldn't raise any eyebrows."

[against_all_trouble]

"More travel things than the usual if we can manage it; I can dump the medicine cabinet into a bag. A couple sleeping bags; don't have more camping gear. Food is easier to buy than carry, unless we're in the serious sticks - mhm, I'll want to avoid using my credit card when I can."

"Nashville's a good first place to go once we have her back, I have an old bandmate or two there. If we move around more after that, the same's all true for New York, but Nashville's closer."

[sing_for_the_tears]

Erica has no intention of moving as far as New York without Tommy, but that's a worry for a later time. There are too many variables here for it to be worth bringing up. Will they find Suze or not, how much of a problem are these creeps, how will they manage in Nashville- she'll worry about it all later.

"We probably shouldn't use the cards at all, until we know more about those guys. Do you need to pay them off? You should do that before we leave, if it's not automatic."

She begs a pen and a piece of paper- which turns out to be a torn part of a receipt paper roll, but it's paper- off the waitress, and takes notes. "Okay. Anything else? Want to get moving?"

[against_all_trouble]

"That's the important stuff. Stuff for writing notes, and my laptop. I'll need to use the cards some, at least to get cash. But yeah, we should get moving. You want to drive? If we need to get away quickly and I'm the one checking my apartment, you'll want to have used this car before."

He pays for the meal (cash) and stops at the door to look for suspicious cars. Just in case.

[sing_for_the_tears]

"Sure, makes sense," Erica agrees brightly. She gathers up her stuff and follows him outside.

No suspicious cars, at the moment. Not much of anything; it's very late. Erica shrugs and follows Art to his car.

She's not quite a bad driver. She's not stopping on highways and reversing to catch a missed exit, or driving the wrong way on a one way street, or anything truly insane like that. But she's still not a very good driver. Stop lights may be uncomfortable for a while.

"Sorry," she apologizes after the third abrupt halt. "I don't drive much."

That happens to be patently untrue- she got her permit as soon as she was 15, and she had to drive to work every day- but her parents never bothered to actually teach her. This is, frighteningly, a vast improvement over previous Erica-driving. She does improve, incrementally, it's just that the 'figure it out yourself' aspect slows her down.

But she doesn't feel like explaining any of this to Art, and if she was the age she was pretending to be, she would like to think she'd be better already. See, there's her excuse. She has to lie to maintain the masquerade of her purported age.

Now that she thinks about it- this is the most legally she's ever driven. Fake driver's license proclaiming her "age" aside, she does actually have her permit under her real name, and she's driving next to a licensed adult. Score one for her.

[against_all_trouble]

Arthur keeps the snark down to "Never driven in a city before?" He's getting too tense to be witty, anyway. He gives directions but doesn't say much else.

Soon, they arrive at the last couple turns. "OK, take this last part slow; I want to get a good look before we pull into the lot."

The building is three stories of boring brick, with a parking lot set back from the street. The lot is almost full.

Arthur briefly but very intensely regrets not paying much attention to what cars his neighbors drive.

[sing_for_the_tears]

"Just the suburbs," she agrees. "It's not the same, y'know?"

Making it safely to her destination is always a win in Erica's book. She pulls in as slowly as possible, but is careful not to just- slow. She's turning her head to look like she's just lost, just looking for the correct house- nothing to see here, nope, she's not acting suspiciously. (If someone calls the police on them for "loitering" or "casing the neighberhood" she is so screwed.)

Finally they get to the lot, and she she pulls in and parks. Very, very carefully. "You okay? What now?"

[against_all_trouble]

"Now? I guess I find out whether the sweater brigade is smarter than I thought.", he says wryly. As he starts to rise, he stops and continues, "Stay with the car and lean on the horn if someone follows me. I'll give you a wave if the coast is clear. If something goes wrong... better two people captured than three. Do what feels right."

And with that, he's up and moving. Through the lobby doors, up the stairs, check the hallway, and... door. It's closed. Is that a good sign? He thinks it's a good sign.

[sing_for_the_tears]

Erica stays put, sighing and slumping over the steering wheel. No interesting cars, no interesting people, no nothing.

She keeps an eye out, like he asked, and counts sheep in her head. Wave soon, please, boooored.

[against_all_trouble]

He opens it, looks in and... everything's just as he left it. Guitars leaning against the wall, same magazines on the table, same lights on. A minute of quiet walking later and he's checked all the other rooms as well; everything looks the same, and it's empty. Everything's fine.

He slides open the balcony door and waves toward the parking lot.

[sing_for_the_tears]

Yes! Something to do! Erica immediately trots inside. It takes her a couple of minutes of thought to figure out which apartment went with that balcony, but she's eventually at his door. "Clear coast, awesome. Okay, point me at things, we should pack and get going."

[against_all_trouble]

Arthur looks up and says, "Right, grabbing things. I figure we move stuff down to the car now, then try to get Suzy and hit the road. There's a closet in the hall" - he gestures - "with some stuff and a duffel, and the bathroom across from it. Medicine, toothbrushes, sleeping bags, anything else there that seems worthwhile. Guitars should wait. I'm sending off a couple messages, I'll be grabbing things too in a minute. You see the elevator?"

[sing_for_the_tears]

Erica fetches herself a duffel from the specified location and starts throwing in items. Anything she can find that was on their list, anything she sees she decides is worth taking even if it wasn't. When she's managed to fill up the bag, she grabs it, a sleeping bag and a guitar case. She hefts them, decides it is about at the acceptable weight range of 'as much as I can carry but no more', and kicks another duffel in Arthur's direction.

"I'll take these downstairs. You keep packing, you know where you keep things, I'll start ferrying things to the car."

She heads downstairs. How full is the back of the van? There may be some trunk tetris.

[against_all_trouble]

The trunk isn't huge, but it isn't very full either; most of the band's stuff didn't come in this car. Shouldn't be much trouble, at least not yet.

Arthur finishes his message sending (it's all pretty vague) and shuts the laptop. Now to get a bunch of clothes and cash in a bag. Pack, pack, pack.

(He hasn't relocked the door behind him. And he's not looking toward it at all.)

[marrinikari]

(This was not a very good decision on his part.)

In the hallway, two men appear. They may be recognizable from the group of four in the restaurant.

They enter the apartment, pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked and even more pleasantly surprised to find it occupied. "Well, isn't this convenient," the taller one says, almost cheerfully. "Two birds, one stone. We were going to look for you when we finished up here, and you've gone and saved us the trouble."

[against_all_trouble]

The first thing he thinks is Shit. The second is Of all the times to start being over-optimistic.

He turns around, fists clenched. "No, save me some trouble. Where'd you take Suzy?"

(This probably isn't a very good decision either. Not that he's remotely thinking about that right now.)

[marrinikari]

"Why should we tell you?" the man asks, honestly surprised. "You'll be joining her anyway. If we wait long enough, she'll be much better behaved."

The other man looks sour. An observant person might notice a hastily bandaged wrap around his arm. Suzy was not an easy prisoner. "This time, you get the hard part," he tells his friend. "I'm going to go grab their laptops." He heads for the nearest bedroom.

The first man sighs, squares his shoulders, and pulls out what looks like a taser. "You could make this easy," he suggests. "Not struggle. Tell me what you two were planning with your little band."

[against_all_trouble]

"What? We make music. Our biggest plan was to get an album out. You're the evil conspiracy kidnapping people, not me."