WE'RE SIX FEET UNDER THE STARS ., beck/rachael ~~~

hips sway & lips lie

LIKE CLOCKWORK SHE'S IN CONTROL OF ALL THE RIGHT GUYS AND I'M STILL WAITING FITTED HATS AND A CAR ALARM, HIGH TOPS WITH THE WAY SHE WALKS, SHE'S SHOWING OFF THE WAY SHE WALKS, IT'S ON, TAKE ME, SHOW ME THE CORNERS OF YOUR EMPTY ROOM THE TROUBLE WE COULD GET INTO JUST FAKE IT FOR ME DISREGARD THE FOOTSTEPS AND WE'LL NEVER TELL A SOUL

daisy was glad that she'd met beck. if she were being honest, she hadn't been looking forward to it. her boyfriend, however, was enamored by the idea that he and daisy could help get his troubled brother get back up on his feet. she'd heard things about beck, heard things that she didn't particularly like, heard things that troubled her, heard things that make her heart hurt for him, heard things that made her head say to stay away from him.

apprehensive was the word that basically described her preliminary feelings, sure, but the moment she met beck, she felt a sense of kinship, for lack of a better word, with him. daisy wanted to protect him, wanted to make sure he was okay, be his friend, make him smile. god, he had a great smile. but it was more than his amazing smile, or the way she was fascinated by his tattoos. she felt safe with him, she felt protected with him. he wasn't going to hurt her, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let anyone else hurt her. not here, not now. she was - well, she thought they were getting to be really close friends. there was almost no one on tour that daisy trusted more than beck.

there were always the assholes that made stupid comments about beck just being nice to her to get into her pants, stupid comments about beck in general. how he was an asshole, how he was just another stupid band guy who went to rehab. it was like people judged beck on his past, and didn't even bother to think, hey, maybe he's really changed.

and he had changed.

if he hadn't - well, daisy would be worrying about him more than he worried about her. she trusted him more than anything. she let him take care of her when she was drunk, she let him carry her, she let him make fun of her. he made her laugh harder than anyone else had, and she absolutely loved it. beck was the best friend that she'd ever had - the best friend that she'd been looking for for as long as she could remember.

and that was why it wasn't odd that she was knocking on the door of his bus at two am, wearing yoga pants and a tank top, looking like a very disgruntled sorority girl, blonde hair pulled up into a messy bun, a blanket wrapped around her torso. despite the disgustingly hot days, nights in maine got insanely cold. "beck!" she called, knocking once again. "open up, it's freezing out here."

tattoos on your neck, fake gold on your teeth "fuck you!" beck yelled at the tv, throwing a peice of pepperjack at the tv for the third time that night. watching shitty mtv and eating cheese by himself had become a tradition for beck, mostly because this was the time of night just a short year ago when he would have been getting ready to get high with his friends. so, instead of thinking about the fact that he'd rather be lining up that white powder he loved so much, he watched tyler the creator punk that asshole that was dating one of the kardashians all by himself, since the other guys from the label were out getting fucked up. and on a weeknight, that just wasn't a good habit for a recovering drug addict to be having. most nights, at least when he didn't have to be up early to push people around, he had no problem going out and getting a little drunk with the boys. but tonight just didn't feel right, he was feeling like giving in a little, and that was never a good thing.so he'd sit there and eat cheese and cuss at the tv in his sweatpants and nothing else, because the guy was too lazy to put a shirt on... pretty much ever. it had nothing to do with showing off, he just never had the urge to clothe himself. an hour or so later, beck was still throwing cheese and cussing loudly, very glad that none of his mates were around to see him acting like such a girl. the only person that wouldn't judge him about this was probably daisy, and chances were she was sleeping. girls like daisy were always going to bed early, not drinking all the time... being good people. beck was pretty sure he'd never associate with someone like her until his younger brother finally drug him out to meet her, and then she ended up being on the same summer tour, and they'd actually started getting along. beck ended up trucking her around like a little sister he'd never had, even though he was pretty sure he'd never think his little sister was hot if he had one. they'd been friends for a while now, and beck really hated to piss off his little brother, but he couldn't really deny that he was interested in her as more than a friend. the girl was drop dead sexy, and she was always coming over at random hours of the night and wanting to hang out, so what the fuck was beck supposed to th- becks head cocked to the side as he heard a knock, and a familiar voice yelling his name. speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear. he hopped off his bunk and walked to the door, swinging it open and leaning against it with a devilish grin. "well, well, well." he laughed, his accent thick. "ain't it little miss goody two shoes?" he opened up more so she could come inside. "isn't it past your bed time, love?"if you don't ever do anything else for me just do this for me brother, come on homeboy