(A/N: Ok, so I have a new story. I came up with this idea last week on a whim. I hope you like it :) Please review too!)

I stumbled my way through the snowy streets of New York City, trying desperately to find the hotel we were currently staying at. It really wasn't helping the fact that it was still snowing, or that I still had a slight buzz from the crowded pub we had just left. Teetering on the stilletos that I couldn't wait to get out of, I hugged my leather jacket around me tighter.

"Dammit, Jayme where the hell is that street?" I yelled behind me, but only got a swirl of wind and snowflakes in response. My eyes widened at the fact that he was no longer behind me. "Jayme?" I called, louder this time. Nothing. Near panic, I turned around and headed back towards the bar. All the while, I shrieked his name to no avail. "Shit!" I cursed, nearly tripping over myself as I headed back around the last corner we had taken. How the hell was I going to explain to my boss that I had lost their star clients idiotic drummer? I then heard a trash can in the alley nearest to me topple over.

"Jayme?" I called again down the alleyway. I heard muttering then drunken laughter. I sighed and headed in the direction of the noise. It had to be him.

"Hayleyyyyy! I fell down!" He drunkenly whined like a child. I found him in a jumbled heap next to a bunch of trash and the toppled over garbage can. I seriously contemplated leaving him there, but then I remembered what my boss would say if I did. Still teetering on my heels, I helped him up. Help wasn't really the right word. I basically had to yank him up, seeing as that he was too drunk to even really stand on his own. I rolled my eyes as he nearly fell over again. It was like trying to tear a two year old away from a candy store. He just would not cooperate.

"How much did you have to drink Jayme?" I snapped at him. I got laughter in return. I began to drag him down the street where I had left off trying to find our hotel. " Jeez, that shot of Jack really must have done you in, huh?" Again, I got giggling and muttering in response.

"This is fun! Look at the snow, Hales!!" I spun around to look at him angrily.

"Jayme. This is not a game sweetheart. I need to find our hotel or we are fucked, you hear me? You need to be in the studio in the morning to finish those demos and you need to be sober dammit. You can't jeopardize my job-not again," I yelled at him, looking into his glassy glazed over green blue eyes. It took him a minute to process what I had just said.

"I love you Hayley," he said. I whirled around and slapped him across the face. Hard.

"You're an asshole, Jayme Woods," I said coldly, turning abruptly down Lexington Avenue.

8 Months Earlier

If I had known then what I know now, when my boss called me into his office that dreary thursday morning- I would have never said yes. I would have never gotten involved with the new up and coming band Dark Angel, and I would have never ever met Jayme Woods. However, eight months ago I was naive...

"Hayley Davenport, my sweet girl. Come on in here and let me get a look at you," my boss Mr. Phillips boomed from his desk. I stepped in and sat down across from him, swinging my shoulder length black hair behind me. "Where did you get those new holes in your face, love?" he asked. Mr. Phillips was a relatively easygoing boss. Raised over in England, he came to the US about 15 years ago to start up his own Public Relations firm in New York. His firm now rivaled most of the ones in the surrounding area and he was always quick to pick up new talent fresh on the market. Especially the up and coming bands. I had joined the company about 3 years ago, fresh out of my first year in college. He had a knack for sticking me with the new edgy, sort of punkish bands that were being represented for the big record companies. Not that I minded.

I grinned at him, pushing around my new lip ring with my tooth absent mindedly. "Jersey," I simply said. He grinned and shook his head. It's true what they say about the brits and bad teeth, he was no different.

"Who went with you for that?" he asked. Again I grinned. I had just come off a 2 month PR job with a little unknown band from Jersey called My Chemical Romance. The firm was very excited about them because they were about to become big. Very, very big. Anyway, earlier that week I had begged their bassist Mike to come with me to get it done (I had originally asked his big brother-the singer to come with me, but I found out he had a fear of needles), and he happily obliged. He even held my hand through the process.

"Mike Way from My Chem," I answered, swinging my boot in a circle. I was constantly fidgeting if I sat in one spot for too long. Mr. Phillips leaned back in his leather reclining chair and chuckled.

"I'll have to have a word with that boy next time I see him," he stated. My boss was always like this, every time I came back to the firm with a new piercing or tattoo, he would assume someone from one the bands I was representing made me do it. It was partially true. Most of the time it was because of the whole scene I had immersed myself in, and part of it was that I knew I could get away with it. The latest tattoo I had was swirling down my ribs and side. Greg, the lead singer from another Jersey band I had represented when I first started at the PR firm-Bouncing Souls, came with me for it. I thought it was only appropriate that I get the lyrics to one of their songs on me. Mr. Phillips was definitely all bark and no bite. I was one of the top employees in his PR firm, I was a valuable asset. As long as I showed up to the meetings and called in to explain how things were going if I was on the road with a band at that moment-I could do no wrong. We then got down to business.

"Well, that's good to hear about those Jersey boys. I hear they're going to be quite a hit over at Reprise. How were things with that band from California? The one with that pretty bird with the blue hair?" Mr. Phillips asked, going over some notes from his desk. I pulled out some of my own from my messenger bag.

"Unfortunately, for Emily and those guys Tsunami Bomb broke up last month", I explained. Their lead singer, the "pretty bird with the blue hair" as my boss referred to her as, was more-so a friend of mine rather than the simple acquaintance that usually goes along with representing some bands. Occasionally Emily and I will still chat, but it has been a while. My boss didn't look happy to hear about that.

"Hayley, I hired you because you were good at what you did. You got names out to the public and completely did anything and everything to get these bands noticed by labels. Why did this particular endover fail?" I sighed, I hated it when a band failed-but I had some news to tell him that would make him happy.

"Well, that band is gone-but I have spoken with Emily and she is starting up a new band and is working on some new material now. I think it's called the Action Design." Mr. Phillips perked up at this new development.

"That sounds brilliant. Get some of her demos as soon as you can. I will speak with some of the independent labels and see if anyone is interested. Please keep me updated with that project. I called you in here today to get an update on everything, but also to give you a new assignment. A new band with quite an edgy sound is coming out of Toronto and I want you to represent them for a little bit. I obtained a few rough cuts of their songs from the studio they were working in last week," he said, sliding a cd across the desk to me. I tucked it away in my bag.

"How do they sound?" I asked. He shrugged, crinkling up his nose a bit.

"Not my cup of tea. A little rough from a professional music standpoint, but tweaked on a bit-they could be brilliant. Name's Dark Angel. Got a bird singing lead vocals. Can you handle them for a while?" He asked. I shrugged.

"Depends. How long do I have to represent them?" Mr. Phillips leaned back again in his chair.

"This one is going to be a while, Hayley. Probably almost a year." I dropped my bag on the floor and looked at him, stunned.

"Are you fucking serious?" I asked. He cleared his throat and gave me a small glare.

"Language, Miss Davenport. And yes, it will be for that long. This band is very new to the scene and still very green. I believe you are the first person they've had from our firm take an interest in them. Hell, I think we're the first people at all to take any bloody notice of them outside of the dingy basements and whatnot they've played." I grinned sheepishly for my swearing and looked down at my pants, smoothing the creases down with my hand. "Are you up for it?"

I nodded, and he dismissed me.

This is how I met Dark Angel. This is how I met Jayme Woods.