"Ronnie, wait!" Marilyn called out.

Ronnie stopped walking but didn't turn around to face her.

"Ronnie. What the fuck was that back there?" Marilyn ran around him so she was standing face-to-face.

Ronnie folded his arms over his defined chest.

"Ronald Joseph Radke. You said you wanted to talk. Well? I'm here. Let's talk."

"I don't want to here. Let's go on the bus and talk there." Ronnie finally said.

Marilyn followed Ronnie onto the bus and sat down next to him on the couch.

"So?" Marilyn asked, impatiently.

"I'll be honest. I have no idea what came over me that day. I don't know why I acted like such a douche. It was probably because I was upset about playing so early and having no one at our set. I know that sounds douchey. I don't really know."

"It's okay, Ronnie. I took care of that girl and if she's a true fan, she won't give up on you and she'll forgive you."

"I read her letter."

"And?"

"I cried. It was just something so powerful. I couldn't believe all she had been through. And the fact that my music has kept her alive. It's just..."

"Yeah, she really looks up to you. I understand why. You're a great musician and an amazing person."

"Thanks, Marilyn. I'm really sorry about what I said."

"It's okay. We're still friends."

"Friends?"

"Yes, Ronnie. Friends. No, I'm not with Andy. I'm not with anyone but when I'm ready, I think it will be Andy. I love you, Ronnie, I do and I care about you."

"I care about you, too, Marilyn and I understand."

"Good. I'm glad. So, I had a question."

Ronnie put his hand over hers. "Anything."

Marilyn took a deep breath. She was afraid of what Ronnie might say. "Okay. How did you know the exact date when we brought you to the hospital all those weeks ago?"

Ronnie looked down at his lap and wrung his hands together as the memory came rushing back to him.

"It was... it was the day my mother first hit me. She came home and she was drunk. I was playing cards or something with my brother and she took a hold of me and hit me. My dad found her with me a few hours later and rushed me to the hospital. After that day, I never saw her again."

A tear formed in the corner of his eye and rolled down over the tattoo under his right eye. Marilyn sat with him for another half hour before she decided she should be heading back to her bus.

"Hey, Ronnie?"

He looked up at her.

"I think I'm going to head back to my bus now."

"Wait." He took hold of her hand. "Please stay. I don't know if I can handle being alone right now."

"But I see Jacky and Ryan and the rest of the guys coming right now."

"I need you. You make me feel safe, Marilyn. I don't know what's happening right now. I just feel scared."

"It's okay. I'll stay." Marilyn sat back down on the couch next to Ronnie and her phone buzzed.

Andy: Where are you? I miss you! Buses are about to leave!

Marilyn: I'm with Ronnie. He's having a panic attack and asked me to stay with him.

Andy: Oh...

Marilyn: Andy... The poor man is practically hyperventilating. He said I make him feel safe. I promise you he's just a friend and we talked things out. Plus, it's not like we're together, you and me.

Andy didn't respond to that so she slid her phone back in her pocket and wrapped her arms around Ronnie. He placed his head on her shoulder and she stroked his long, black hair until he was asleep. Jacky sat down next to her a few moments later.

"You know, he really does love you, Marilyn. I don't know what he would do if you weren't around. You're like his rock, or anchor. You keep him stable."

"I know, Jacky. I know."

"Well, I'm off to bed. Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight, Jacky."

Marilyn looked over at Ronnie's somber, sleeping face. She wondered what he was dreaming about. She reached over and pecked a kiss on his forehead. An immediate smile spread across his face and she knew that she had driven away the bad dreams.