Out of all the members of the band, Kate was probably the most likely to get caught backstage doing something dumb (like cocaine) or just leave outright once the set was finished. While she had enjoyed the club scene some, lately she wasn't quite herself. Not since the cure deal, not since she had someone else in her head -- she felt sort of like someone had traced her on a piece of paper, left out a few very important details, and sold the carbon copy to the world at large. It sucked, but the more alcohol they fed her here, the less she seemed to care.

A few vodkas in -- not enough to get her drunk, just smiling -- was when she came upon Jay, sitting on the couch looking as though someone had just killed his golden retriever. Or his girlfriend. To say she couldn't relate at least on some level would be a lie; after all, to see Brian or Jason there in the back smiling, to laugh about all the notes she missed, would've felt great. But that was, perhaps, the difference between the two of them. While Jay could at least own up to his feelings, Kate was the type of person who banished them all together.

Sitting down next to him, close enough that their sides were touching and she could give him a half-hug easily, she moved a bit of the hair from his eyes and squeezed with the one arm. It felt vaguely maternal to do so, but she couldn't help it.