"What about the previews? Don't shows normally run for a few weeks before doing the-what's it called?-opening night?"

"Everyone thought it best to limit the previews because I wasn't performing well enough. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I see we probably could have used the feedback."

"Would it have changed anything?" she asked carefully.

"Probably not. I was arrogant and didn't want to admit I was overwhelmed." He shook his head. "I've performed for audiences ten times the size of that theater, maybe more, and I have never felt so completely out of my element before."

"They're two completely different things."

Turning his head, Matt looked at her as if she were crazy.

"It's true," she said. "When you play with the band, you are a unit. Sure, Riley's the front man, but you're all playing together. It takes the four of you to make it work. It seems to me, with the show, the spotlight was solely on you. That's enough to freak anyone out."

Could it be that easily explained? "Yeah, but-"

"So you got stage fright and you weren't very good at acting. It's still not enough to make you go into hiding. Or at least...it shouldn't be."

He had a feeling she knew all of this, but he was finding it helpful to say it all out loud. "Yeah well...I thought it was all going to finally die down-all the negative media stuff. Then someone started spouting off about how if I sucked that bad, what did it mean for Shaughnessy-the band. If I sounded that bad live, was it me singing or playing on our albums? Then it started people speculating about whether any of us in the band were playing or if we were just some hacks with no talent." He sighed again. "That's when Mick, my agent, finally said enough. He's got our PR team working overtime to get people off the idea that the band is a bunch of phonies. I'm telling you, Viv, it's exhausting."

"I'm sure it is," she agreed. "So...what are you supposed to do while the PR people are doing their thing?"

He shrugged. "Rest. Wait." He chuckled. "I have no idea. I've never had to do this before. Even when we were on breaks from touring and recording and I was supposed to be on vacation, I never rested. It's just not who I am. I hate not having a purpose. It annoys the shit out of me that I can't do anything to make this right."

"Maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe something will come up and take the media attention off of you and the band."

"That's the thing-Riley's got a great tour going on right now for his solo stuff, and this nonsense is marring it. He's going on the talk show circuit, and rather than promoting his own stuff, he's going to have to clean up my mess."

"What are your options? Would you want to go out there and face the media yourself?"

Hell no. The press was brutal. There was no way he would be able to stay calm and not cause more of a PR nightmare if it were up to him to face everyone. Rather than answer her, he simply shook his head.

"What does Riley have to say?"

"I haven't talked to him yet. I was planning on tackling that task tomorrow, calling him and Dylan and Julian. I should have done it a week ago but..."

"I'm sure they'll all understand. You'd be understanding if the roles were reversed, right?"

Would he? Matt would like to think so, but he knew he could be a hard-ass sometimes when things didn't go according to his plan. "Maybe. I don't know," he replied honestly. "We've never had to deal with a situation like this."

Vivienne nodded and then yawned loudly. "Well, I hope for your sake that they all stand behind you. I don't think Riley's the type of guy to hold a grudge, but I don't know the other guys, so..." She shrugged and then slowly came to her feet. Matt immediately did the same. "Thanks for helping me tonight."

"I really didn't do much of anything except carry in some boxes."

She chuckled. "Don't worry. There will be a lot more of them coming in and then the unpacking can begin. I'll have it all mapped out tomorrow so we can get started."

"You have to map out how to unpack?" he asked with a grin. "I mean, the boxes say what room they go in. How much more information do we need?"

She frowned at him. "Some things aren't as cut-and-dried. I have a system."

"Ah," he said and took a step back.

"Ah? What does that even mean?"

"It means you're a bit OCD. I get it."

"I am not OCD," she countered. "I just like things organized."

"No," he said as he took another step back. "You like everything organized and you like to be in control of it-OCD."

She rolled her eyes as she huffed. "Do you even know what OCD means?"

"Obsessive controlling disorder," he said with a grin. Then he winked at her as he turned and made his way to the door. "I'll see you-and your map and directions on how to unpack the silverware-tomorrow."

"It's not like that!" she called after him.

Matt was almost out the door when he turned and met her irritated gaze. "Prove it."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she snapped, "Prove what?"

"That you don't have OCD," he replied.

"I don't."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he teased. "Show up here tomorrow without a list or a map or instructions or whatever it is you were planning on, and let Aaron and me unpack."

Her dark eyes went huge. "Are you crazy? I'll have to tell you-"

"Uh-uh. The boxes are labeled, so we won't need you telling us where they need to go."

"And what am I supposed to be doing while you and my brother are randomly dumping my stuff all over the house?"

Matt stepped back inside and faced her while making a tsking sound. "Oh, ye of little faith. Aaron and I are perfectly capable of unpacking a couple of boxes. You can pick one room for yourself but the rest we'll do. Deal?"

She immediately went back to frowning. "This is ridiculous. I don't see why I can't-"

"Because you're OCD," he said, enjoying this playful banter. Although, to be fair, he was pretty sure he was the only one thinking of it in those terms. The look on Vivienne's face was proof she was most definitely not amused.

"Fine," she finally said.

"Fine?"

She nodded. "Fine. No instructions. You and Aaron can handle the bulk of the unpacking while I work on one room myself."

"And you won't try to micromanage us?" he asked.

"Not even a little bit."

He had a niggling feeling he was missing something-she agreed too easily all of a sudden. But for now, he'd take it.

"Okay then. I'll see you tomorrow night." With another wink and a wave, he was out the door.

It wasn't even noon and Matt was already on the verge of losing his mind.

He had left Vivienne's the previous night and come back and hung out with Aaron until almost midnight. He'd slept fine, and so far this morning, he had avoided his phone as if it were the plague.

Make the call.

It wasn't as if anyone was expecting his call-not really-but still he couldn't seem to make himself take the first step and just do it. Riley had to be first. Matt owed it to him. And yet no matter how much he rationalized with himself, it didn't make him spring into action.

Make the call.

Part of him wanted to call Mick first and find out the initial reactions of all the guys. Matt knew Mick had been planning on talking to all of them, and he had secretly hoped his agent would simply call and give him the heads-up before Matt called them. No such luck.

Make the damn call!

"What the hell," he muttered and stalked across the room and picked up his phone. It was late enough on the East Coast that even if Riley was back on the West Coast, it was still a decent time to call.

Two minutes later, with his heart pounding in his chest, Matt listened and waited for Riley to answer the phone.

"Ah, so you do remember how to use the phone," Riley joked rather than going for a typical greeting. "I was beginning to wonder if all the years of people helping you caused you to forget basic life skills."

Instantly Matt relaxed. "Ha-ha," he deadpanned. "Thank God for the ease of having numbers programmed into the phone and being able to swipe the screen. I don't know if I could have handled more than that." They both laughed, and Matt realized how much he'd been missing his friend. "How's the tour going?"

"Better than I ever expected," Riley replied. "I honestly thought it was going to be weird being on the road without...you know...you guys...but it's been great."

"I'm sure having Savannah with you helps too."

Riley chuckled. "I still can't believe how lucky I am. Hell, I still can't believe I'm married!"

"Neither can your fans," Matt teased. "I'm sure there are thousands of women who are still crying over that one."

"Yeah, well...I guess you'll have to take up the cause."

"If only."

"So how are you doing, man? Seriously," Riley said, his tone filled with concern. "I talked to Mick, and obviously I've seen the reports, but..."

Matt sighed. "I cannot even believe it all hit the fan like this."

"You know how the press can be. You remember how they tormented the hell out of me while I was struggling with the album? I thought I was going to lose my mind!"

"Look, Riley, you have to know how sorry I am that I brought all this negative attention on you and the guys. I hate that it's going down like this."

"It's not your fault, Matt. This is how it goes-people like to kick you when you're down, and when it's a slow news week, it's not unusual for them to start making up shit to keep people interested in a fizzling story."

"I just can't believe how it turned so damn fast!" Matt snapped, finally relieved to be able to talk about this with someone he knew fully understood how it felt. "Broadway shows close down all the damn time! Why did the media have to latch on to this one?"

"Like I said," Riley said reasonably, "slow news week."

"It's not right."

"No, it's not. I totally agree with you. Where are you? What are you doing with yourself?"

"I'd rather not say," Matt said miserably. "It's probably better if no one knows."

"Okay, now I'm worrying about you. Are you sure you're all right?"

Matt gave a mirthless laugh. "Yeah. I'm fine. Really. I just hate being the butt of the joke and being forced to hide out-not that I have anything else to do. I had no fallback plans. In my mind, the show was going to run for a while, and then you'd come crying to me about wanting to get the band back together." Another laugh. "Joke's on me there too, I guess."

Riley groaned. "It's not like that, Matt. I'm having a great time on this tour, don't get me wrong, but it's not the same as playing with you and Dylan and Julian. We're like brothers. I couldn't imagine never playing music with you guys again. It's just-"

"Yeah I know," Matt interrupted. "It's gonna be a while."

"Have you talked to Dylan and Jules?"

"No. I wanted to talk to you first. And believe me, it was harder than I thought possible to find the balls to pick up the phone and call you."

"Dude, we've been friends since we were twelve. You never have to be afraid to call me. Ever."

Matt grew silent for a minute. "I feel like I let you down, Ry. You're always the one taking care of everything, and the one time I branch out on my own, I screw up."

"We all screw up," Riley corrected. "I'm sure you haven't been paying too much attention to what else is going on in the world, but believe me when I say we're all guilty of it."

"What do you mean?"

"Other than my nightmare of a year? I mean...prior to the tour and Savannah? I was the subject of all kinds of ridiculous speculation and none of you guys came down on me for it. Dylan's partying a little too hard, and if he's not careful, he's going to hurt himself or someone else. He's one bottle of tequila away from a stint in rehab."

Matt nodded. "I thought he was starting to calm down."

"Apparently not. I don't know what caused this latest bender he's on, but he's not returning my calls."

"Has he talked to Mick?"

"Like he had a choice," Riley said with a chuckle. "There's no avoiding that man. If you don't answer the phone, he'll show up at your house or your hotel room and force you to talk to him."

"And?"

"And," Riley continued, "he swears he's just letting off steam. It's been a while since he's had this much free time on his hands-unsupervised free time-and he's just...being Dylan."

"At least Julian's got his shit together."

"Well..."

"Oh, come on!" Matt huffed. "I'm not that out of the loop! What's going on with him?"

"The usual. He's so wrapped up in being Dena's puppet, he's totally losing himself."