Yeah...I wanted to write a Lance redemption story. Hopefully you guys like it.

Side Note: This story takes place in a separate AU from Aftermath. So Lance and Becky are still together (at least temporarily) in this story. And yes, Astrid appears in this too. But it's not until later.

Disclaimer: I only own my OCs. All other rights go to the original owners of the film.

Come on Lance, you can do this, Lance thought, as he walked up to his grandfather's mansion. Your landlord's going to beat your ass if you don't pay the rent, and you weren't even supposed to be doing your last job. Just suck up your pride and ask him.

Lance didn't really like to admit that I came from a wealthy family. No one really believed him. Not that he could blame them. It was hard to associate a punk-rock jackass like him with someone like Howard Vaughn. One of the richest animals he knew; with his wealth seconding that of Nana Noodleman. A porcupine who was a well known chef; owning two of the state's best restaurants, and running his own catering company. And a porcupine who Lance hope would give him a job, because he has had some trouble holding down a steady one, and Becky was more interested in shopping than working. So now he knows how Ash felt when he did the exact same thing to her.

Pressing the button on the intercom to get his grandfather's attention, he took a step back so the camera that was on the buzzer could face him, and not get full view of his nose like the last time he visited.

"Let me guess," his grandfather's voice said. "You were an ass hat who cheated on his girlfriend, saw her show her true talent on TV and realized you made too huge of a mistake to be taken back by her; got kicked around the last few months by not being able to hold down a steady job. And now you come crawling here because you want money, because the girl you cheated on your ex with is pregnant."

"You got three out of four right," he said, putting his hands in his pockets. "I need work. And kids are the last thing on my mind thank you very much."

"And what makes you think I'll hire you?" Howard asked. "And don't say it's because you're my grandson. You're my family, and I love you. But I already fell for that "because we're family and you love me" crap twice with your dad and your brother."

"Because it's only temporary until my music career takes off," he said, making Howard snort in an attempt to hold in a laugh. "I'm being serious."

"Lance, I've read the songs you wrote. They're horrible," he said, still chuckling. "That Ashley girl you cheated on had better talent than you."

"Don't remind me," he said, rolling my eyes. "And she prefers to be called Ash by the way."

"You still didn't give me a reason to hire you," Howard said.

"Because I refuse to move back in with mom and dad. They'll just compare me to Noodleman," he said.

"Nana is an accomplished actress and singer from her days at the theatre. Why wouldn't they compare your sorry ass to her?"

"I wasn't talking about Nana, grandpa," he said into the intercom. "I was talking about Eddie. Mom and dad make him out to be some sort of successful business man, when he lives twenty-five feet from his parents back door. And believe me, I know. I cleaned the pool."

"Yeah, I know. Nana told me about that," Howard said, remembering to a few days ago when it was discovered that Lance had been cleaning the Noodleman's pool because Eddie was too lazy to do so. "But he at least has a job. Still does not give me a reason to hire you."

"Hire me, or I'm going to stand outside blasting rock music."

"Please," he scoffed. "You can do better than that. The cops would show up and have you in handcuffs before you can play the first chord to whatever bullshit song you decide to play."

"Grandpa, come on," he said, getting fed up with his grandfather's refusing to hire him. "The last time I asked you for anything was seven years ago when I wanted that skateboard. I never asked for anything else since then, and I am willingly coming here to ask for a job somewhat in person. Unlike my dad and Ricky, I am willing to try, and not give up halfway through."

"Oh, if only you could have been this way with Ashley," Howard sighed.

"Grandpa," he said.

"Okay fine. I'll consider it," he said, making Lance relax. "I'll see if I have any positions open at the catering company you can help out on. And if I hire you, I expect you to not dress like that."

"I don't have any dress clothes," Lance said, taking his hand out of his pocket to brush some dirt off of his shirt and jeans.

"Then I suggest you buy some, and do a load of laundry while you're at it," Howard said, the scribbling of his pen audible through the speaker on the other end. "I'll call you in a week. And don't go blowing up my phone if I don't call you, that's the last thing I need."

"Bye Lance," his grandmother, Vivian, called in the background before Howard turned off the intercom.

Turning away from the door to go home, Lance walked away from the mansion, and looked over his shoulder to look at it fully. Hopefully one day he could get a house like this, prove to Ash that he was not talentless. But then again, he didn't give her a chance to show him her full talent, and look where that got him.

Catching the bus to go home, he sat down, and rode the bus up to the Moon Theatre since his apartment building was a few blocks away from there, and saw the entire block crowded with animals because they were holding auditions for the next show. And when he walked around to the front of the line because he was just passing by, he saw his one neighbor, Ozzie, a wheelchair bound ocelot; trying to get up the front steps of the theatre. But his back wheels caught, and he fell backwards.

Rushing over to help Ozzie because Lance wasn't that big of an asshole, he lifted him into the wheelchair, and helped him inside, and onto the stage because there was another set of stairs there too.

"Thanks for the help Lance," he said.

"No problem," he said, helping Ozzie up the last step. "Good luck out there."

"Wait, aren't you going to audition?" Ozzie asked, as Lance turned to leave.

Turning to face the ocelot, Lance glanced backstage, and saw Ash talking with a gorilla wearing a leather jacket; the two of them making brief eye contact for a second before she turned her back to him.

"It's probably best that I don't," he said. "Ash is still kind of mad at me."

"Maybe she won't be if you talk things out with her," Ozzie said before Johnny came out and threw Lance out of the building.

""Maybe she won't be mad if you talk things out with her"," he mocked, getting up from the sidewalk. "That's if I can talk to her without getting thrown out of the building."

Brushing off the dirt from his clothes, he flipped Johnny the bird, and walked away; going back to his apartment building and going upstairs to avoid his landlord who was currently waiting for him with his back turned.

He really hoped Howard would hire him. Because he really needed the money. Sure, he had a roof over his head; but he didn't really have that much to go off of. All he had in his apartment was a very old, dated couch that was falling apart, an old bed with a shitty mattress and a box spring that sent coils into his back all the time, a refrigerator that barely worked half the time, and one of the world's shittiest TVs. That was it.

Sighing, he went into his apartment, and quickly checked to see if the refrigerator was still working before he got a soda...which was lukewarm because the damn thing shut off on him again.

"And Becky wonders why I constantly bug her for food," he said, knowing he couldn't keep a lot of perishables in that fridge because it didn't work. Which was why most of his main diet consisted of protein bars and junk food. And he had been saving up the cash from his last job of cleaning the pool to buy a new guitar. But given the circumstances, he may just want to use that to buy a new refrigerator.

Feeling his phone go off in his pocket, he looked down at the screen, and saw an up close picture of a platypus's bill. Which was his personalized picture for his friend Artie because the damn platypus couldn't take a selfie to save his life.

"What is it Artie?" he asked, taking a sip of his lukewarm soda.

"Guess what today is?" Artie said in a sing-song tone, leaving Lance to look at his calendar and realize it was Artie's twenty-first birthday.

"Oh sorry," he hissed. "I can't go...Becky's not feeling very well."

"Oh, that's too bad," Artie said. "Well, tell her I said to get better soon. And we'll catch up some other time."

"Okay," he said. "Bye Artie."

Hanging up his phone, Lance sighed, and checked to see where he could get a cheap, yet functional refrigerator. Because as much as he loved his friend Artie, Lance didn't want to go to his party. Mainly because Artie was also a mutual friend between him and Ash, and there was a ninety percent chance Ash was going to be there. So Lance just wanted to avoid her.

Giving up on finding a refrigerator at the moment, he went to his room, and laid down for a nap; one of the springs shooting up and jabbing him right in the side.

"Son of a bitch!"

Hopefully you guys like this. R&R.