Luna

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"No, Sel! We're doing this!"

"Mia," Selene sighs in frustration and pinches the bridge of her nose, "I have a job."

"Yeah and you're the owner! So just put everyone on hold and fucking do this!"

"That's not even close to how that works."

In actuality, it's kinda how it works. She could easily bring in a partner or promote her best associate, but that wasn't exactly in her five year plan.

"Selene, listen to me. You're going to do everything you can to get us on that fucking tour and if that means blowing Grohl until he pokes a hole in the back of your skull, then so be it."

"Mia!" she gasps and frantically looks around to ensure no one else on the crowded pier overheard them, "That's exactly the reason why we're not doing this!"

"Why?" she finishes a long sip of her wine and relaxes into the railing overlooking Elliott Bay, "Afraid you won't behave yourselves?"

"Because you say inappropriate shit like that," she practically growls, "And because I'm not interested in whatever idiotic scheme you've concocted for three other grown women who have better things to do with their time!"

"Everything okay over here?" Kat floats across the slats of the pier in her long hot pink dress and leans into their conversation, "Cause you two are being loud as fuck."

"Everything is fine," Selene insists and turns her back on Mia, "I'm getting another drink."

She leaves the two in the far corner of the pier and weaves her way through the small clusters of Seattle's upper class that have gathered at the plush restaurant for a Saturday night out. It's been a week since the festival gig and the uproar over the band 'reuniting' is still as loud as it was the day after.

And Mia, apparently, is determined to ride the crest of the wave all the way to distant shores.

There are increasingly loud rumblings of a tour - an international, long haul tour - with Fox Fight as the support and the other fight-themed band at the helm, and Selene is dead set against all of it. She can't just up and leave her firm, her family, her entire life to traipse around the world as if she's twenty again. It's just too much, it's too... frivolous.

Problem is, she seems to be the only one who thinks so.

Just inside the massive windows that give the restaurant its famous view, she spots her husband, Scott, right where she left him earlier. He's settled into a high-backed barstool at the edge of the dimly lit bar, watching the three piece band play jazz renditions of Pearl Jam songs.

"Hi," she smiles when he notices her approaching and relaxes into his side when he unfurls his arm for her.

With a quick nod at the approaching bartender, he orders her another glass of wine and lands a kiss on her temple before murmuring, "Ignore her."

"I'm trying. She keeps following me around."

"Well, you are magnetic, darling."

"Stop," she laughs at his affected English accent and gratefully takes the delicate glass from the bartender, "I was just hoping we could celebrate tonight and go back to our normal lives tomorrow. Put all of this weirdness behind us."

"I know," Scott squeezes her shoulder while she drinks, "And I want to support you in whatever you want to do, Sel. But I also really, really want to see you girls go out there and do what you do best again."

"Why? So you can manage us?"

His head tilts back as he laughs loudly, "Fuck no! I'd never take on Mia as a client."