The evening air was sharp and cold in Jen's lungs after the stuffy heat of the venue. It should be clear, refreshing, heartening; but right now it was searing into her airways, cutting into her like she was inhaling shards of glass.

The street was dark and empty, the muffled music of some other band carrying out through the door. Jen didn't want to hear it, couldn't stand to hear it. She didn't want to listen to the bands she had lost to. She didn't want to listen to the people who had accomplished what she so badly, desperately needed.

Gritting her teeth, she slammed the door shut and ran, her feet carrying her blindly in a random direction, her hasty footsteps and gasping breaths almost loud enough to drive out the distant music. Her eyes were burning. Her chest was burning more, and this time it had nothing to do with the cold air. She barely felt the wind in her face. She simply ran.

Then she stumbled on a crack in the pavement, caught herself with her hands, and paused.

Where was she?

In her panic Jen hadn't remembered where she was going. All she had wanted to do was get away, away from her bandmates, away from her thoughts, away from everything. And now she was alone in a part of the city she didn't know, without a jacket or any idea how to find the way back.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to struggle to her feet and staggered. Her legs were shaking. Her arms were trembling. With a frustrated noise she collapsed back on the pavement.

She was lost, and she was alone, and she had no idea what to do anymore.

Why can't you do anything?

The sentence was throbbing against her skull like a headache. Over and over, in different voices, until she no longer knew if they belonged to her family or herself. She tried to shut them out, but for each one she got rid of, ten seemed to come back. She couldn't silence them.

You're so clever. You're so hardworking when you want to be. Why can't you put this much energy in something other than music?

I don't know, Jen had answered over and over like a broken record. It was all she could answer. It was the truth. She hadn't known back then, and she still didn't.

What's going to become of you if you don't try any harder?

Jen closed her eyes, tried to cover her ears. It didn't work. It had never worked with voices that were only in her head.

I have music, she had always said in response.

Will music pay your bills?

Jen curled in on herself. "Shut up," she whispered, knowing no one could hear her. "Shut up!"

Why do you think I chose not to become a musician? It's almost impossible to make money with it. You'll only end up on the streets or flipping burgers somewhere. Is that what you want?

Jen had always insisted she could do it. She had kept saying over and over that she could make it. She had to. Music was the only thing she was consistently good at.

Will music pay your phone bill? Will music pay your rent?

The stack of unpaid bills on her desk flashed before her eyes. The approaching deadlines. The numbers on her bank account.

Why had she not saved up more? Why hadn't she worked harder, done a better job? Why was she so forgetful, so impulsive? Why couldn't she simply be organized?

Why can't you do anything?

She wanted to scream at herself, but no sound came out. The ground was cold underneath her, the wind biting into her exposed arms. She didn't have a jacket with her. And she couldn't go get one without facing her bandmates again.

Anything but that. They probably weren't even at the venue anymore. Maybe they didn't want to talk to her right now. Maybe they didn't want to talk to her anymore at all.

Maybe she should just sit here. Freezing. Alone. It still beat the others knowing just how much of a failure she was.

Jen didn't know how long she had been sitting there when the sound of footsteps snapped her out of her thoughts. An unfamiliar sound…but a familiar rhythm.

Before she knew what she was doing, she lifted her head.

Standing at the corner of the street, close to the nearest streetlight, was Elise. She was breathing heavily as if she had been running, but her face lit up with relief when Jen's eyes met her own, even as her brow furrowed in obvious concern.

"There you are," she said softly, not yet crossing the distance between them, as if sensing that Jen wanted to be left alone. "Is everything okay?"

Jen didn't answer. She didn't know if she should tell the truth or lie.

There was an awkward silence. A gust of wind brushed through the street, lifting up Elise's long dark hair.

"Aren't you cold," she said at length, "sitting there without a shirt?"

Jen shook her head. "Not really."

Another silence.

"…Are you sure you're okay?"

Jen froze. Part of her wanted to run again. The other part, however, hesitated. It didn't seem fair to run from Elise again after she had gone through all the trouble to find her.

"I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Elise added at once. "But I feel like you've been weird since that time you didn't show up to practice…did something happen?"

Jen closed her eyes.

Why can't you do anything?

What would Elise say if she knew? What would anyone say if they knew? Would they react like her parents, berate her, blame her for the failures not even she understood?

"It's nothing," she muttered. "I'm fine, really—"

Her eyes met with Elise's, and she fell silent. Elise didn't protest. She didn't try to make her explain herself. But even so, it was impossible to miss the hurt and disappointment in Elise's dark green eyes.

The same person who had comforted her the last time she'd had a bad day, she tried to tell herself. Elise wasn't her parents. Elise wasn't her teachers. Elise had never tried to pressure her about anything.

She took a deep breath.

"I lost my job," she forced out and braced herself for the inevitable.

But in Elise's eyes there was no judgment, only surprise and incomprehension. "What?"

"I got fired!" Her words came out louder and more aggressive than she had meant them to sound, but she was scared and she was frustrated and she didn't care about anything anymore. "I messed up an order again and got fired! I'm too stupid to keep a job and I was hoping I could pay my bills from the music if I got signed and now I'm broke and don't know what to do, okay? Now you know!"

Now, she thought, Elise would definitely judge her. Berate her. Tell her off for being so immature, so unrealistic. Elise had her life together. There was no way she could possibly understand.

But when she risked a glance at Elise's face, the only thing she found was sympathy.

"Okay, first of all," she said, her voice strained with irritation, "who's that manager who fired you? I just wanna talk."

Jen gaped, feeling like she had walked into a glass door. A baffled laugh escaped her. "What?"

"Like, who fires someone over a couple messed-up orders? That's absurd!" Elise's voice was restrained, but her gesturing revealed her annoyance. "Sounds like you deserve better than that job anyway. Good riddance!"

I…never thought about it this way at all.

"That said," Elise continued at once, "that doesn't pay your bills right now either, huh?"

Giving a small laugh, Jen sighed. "Nope," she admitted. "I'm totally broke."

"Will you be okay? I mean, if you need help—"

"What? No, no!" Jen lifted both hands up in protest, waving them frantically. "I don't wanna cause you any trouble—"

"It's not a problem, really! I don't want you ending up without phone service or electricity or something." Elise offered a slight smile. "I'm guessing your part of the pay doesn't really cover it, huh?"

"Not really," Jen admitted. "That's the problem."

"I'm sure we can find something." Elise smiled properly this time, crossing the street to stand beside Jen. "Worst case, I can always lend you some, I've helped out friends before." She cracked a grin. "You can pay me back when we're famous."

She's not judging me. She doesn't care at all.

A smile spread over Jen's face, driving out the panic and self-loathing. "I hope I'm not gonna need that," she said. "But…thanks, Ellie."

Elise extended a hand to help her up. Jen took it. It was freezing cold.

Two footsteps apart, she looked at Elise closely for the first time since she had found her here. Still in the old sneakers she had worn for the performance, without her usual heels, Elise was suddenly much closer to her height. Two or three inches shouldn't make such a difference, but she looked so much smaller than usual now. And she was still only wearing a T-shirt.

Dread and guilt seized her. "Where's your coat?" Jen burst out. "Do you know how cold it is?"

Elise snorted. "Right back at you," she said, smiling. "Don't worry. It was so hot in the venue, I'm still cooling off."

Jen wasn't sure if she should believe her. On one hand, Elise wasn't shivering or anything. On the other hand, she still felt like an idiot. What had she been thinking, running out like that? And now Elise was out in the cold without her coat because of her. Again.

Following a sudden impulse, she leaped forward, enveloping Elise in a crushing hug. Elise stumbled back and caught her with a laugh. "Whoa!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

"Warming up," Jen said into her shirt. Elise smelled faintly of vanilla, she realized. "Because I'm cold."

"Okay, you koala." Elise returned the hug. "So I'm just supposed to walk back like this?"

Jen grinned up at her. "Problem?"

"You're impossible." Still smiling, Elise untangled herself from Jen and wrapped an arm around her shoulders instead, pressing her close to her side. "There we go, the others are waiting. Let's go back."

And back they went, not letting go of each other. Elise's strides were heavier than usual. Jen could tell she was exhausted; and she could tell how much she was welcoming the warmth, no matter how much Elise insisted she wasn't cold at all.

No guilt-tripping. No complaining. No unsolicited advice or criticism. Just support and understanding.

This wasn't home anymore. The people she had surrounded herself with weren't those of her childhood.

A fragment of a melody came to her as she walked through the dark street, tucked neatly under Elise's lean arm and bony shoulder. And just this once, it even came with words.

Come for me, when the wind blows, when the night's cold, when I'm hating myself…

It would still be a long time before she made anything out of this snippet, a very long time.

But as she returned back to her relieved bandmates with a sheepish grin and suffered their good-natured complaints, she neatly tucked it away for future reference.