"Octavia, why does your brother feel the need to get married in San Antonio, of all places?" Clarke complained, resting her head in one hand. She was sitting in her bedroom at a desk next to Raven, staring at flight prices on the computer screen in front of her.

Raven snorted, her eyebrows raised at Clarke. "Yeah, why doesn't Bellamy just hold his wedding in our apartment instead of in the city where he lives? It'd be so convenient."

Clarke shrugged, "we're poor college students. He was one of us once; he should understand."

Octavia's brother, Bellamy Blake, was getting married to his fiancée Gina in a little over one week. With Bellamy being a long-time friend of theirs and Octavia his best man (or best woman) for the wedding, he was expecting them there. The three of them had originally planned to catch a ride with their friend, Miller, who was going to visit family in Austin. But Miller's car had been taken on a joy ride by a group of kids who had left it a burnt out husk on the side of the road. Now they were without a ride, and it would cost them almost $400 each for a flight from New York to San Antonio; money they just didn't have. They were, Clarke decided, effectively screwed.

"We should have booked earlier, as soon as we found out about Miller's car. The flights would have been cheaper," Clarke said, turning back to glare at the computer screen as though it were the one at fault.

"We didn't have the money earlier," Octavia pointed out. She was lying on her back on Clarke's bed, her head hanging off the edge to look at them upside down.

"We don't have the money now," Clarke muttered, mentally calculating in her head as to how they could afford the flights for all three of them.

"You could always ask your mum for a loan?" Raven suggested carefully, looking away from the computer screen to Clarke.

"There is no way in hell I am asking Abby for money. Besides," Clarke added, "you'd have more luck with her than I would."

"Guys," Octavia drawled from her place on the bed. Her face had started to turn red as all of the blood rushed to her head. "I have the perfect idea."

Raven and Clarke exchanged looks, knowing just how 'perfect' Octavia's ideas normally were. "Like that time you made us go to that weird energy healer because your Jujutsu instructor said it would help 'cleanse our spirit'?" Raven deadpanned.

"Or that time you talked us into spending all our food money on getting matching tattoos at that sketchy gallery and we were stuck eating ramen noodles for weeks?" Clarke countered.

"And my tattoo got infected," Raven muttered under her breath, clearly still not over the event.

"We hitchhike," Octavia grinned at them, her eyes bright with excitement.

Clarke gave her an unimpressed look, "no way. We are not hitchhiking across the country."

"Oh, come on. It's the best option we have!"

"Sorry, O, but I'm actually going to agree with Clarke on this one. There have been way too many horror movies about hitchhiking, and I'm well aware that I'd be the first one to die if we were ever in a real-life horror situation. And let's be real; I am way too pretty to die."

Octavia frowned up at them, the expression almost looking comical with her face upside down. "You guys need to live a little."

"What are you even doing?" Clarke asked her finally, staring down at Octavia.

Octavia stretched her arms out to brush her fingers against the carpeted floor. "I'm meditating."

Clarke laughed, "I don't think that's how it's done, O."

"Indra said-" Octavia began, but was cut off by Raven.

"No more talking about your creepy Jujutsu instructor," Raven said. When Clarke raised her eyebrows at her, she shrugged. "What? She scares the shit out of me."

"That," Octavia said, finally sitting upright on Clarke's bed, "is why she is so freaking awesome."

"Every time we have to go to one of your martial arts competitions I feel like she's going to murder me with her eyes. And like I said before – I am way too pretty to die."

"Whatever," Octavia said, brushing aside Raven's remark. Her phone buzzed from the bed beside her, and Octavia looked down at it. A sly grin spread across her face. "Get dressed," she told the others.

"We are dressed," Clarke pointed out.

Octavia rolled her eyes, "then get changed."

She tossed her phone to Clarke, who looked down at the screen. It was an invitation to a show tonight featuring a band she only recognised because of the poster Octavia had stuck up on the fridge.

"We don't really have the spare money to be going out to shows, Octavia. Especially if we need to find a way to San Antonio," Clarke said.

"I can get us in for free," Octavia promised. "Trust me."

Raven, who had read the invitation over Clarke's shoulder, winked at her. "Buy me a drink, babe, and I'm totally there."

Octavia grinned back at her. "Then let's get changed. We're going out."

Clarke stood in the alleyway next to Raven, bouncing slightly on her feet and rubbing her fingers together. "It's fucking cold," she complained. "I should have dressed warmer."

"Yeah, but sometimes you've got to feel pain to look this damn good," Raven said with a wink, gesturing with one arm down her body.

The two girls were standing out the front of the venue where the show was to be played. There was a long line snaking out the door and passed them, but Octavia had told them not to line up. Then, without another word, she had disappeared.

"Come on, O." Clarke muttered, beginning to regret not wearing a jacket tonight.

Almost as if on cue, Octavia appeared. She looked out of breath and her cheeks were pink. "Let's go!" She grabbed Raven and Clarke by the hands and led them into the club. The doorman gave them a stoic nod as they passed.

"How?" Clarke shouted over the loud noise. Music was already pumping out of the many speakers, courtesy of a DJ on the stage.

"I know the drummer from the band playing tonight," Octavia said over her shoulder, her voice carrying to Clarke. "He got us in." Her answer only confused Clarke further.

Octavia led them over to the bar. Slipping her hands out of Clarke's and Raven's, she held up three fingers to the bartender. Three shot glasses appeared on the bar in front of them, filled to the top with vodka.

"Drink up, ladies," Octavia said, passing out the shots.

The vodka burned Clarke's throat as it went down. She coughed, her eyes watering. Octavia threw back her shot, already ordering another round from the bartender.

"How do you know this drummer, Octavia?" Clarke asked, turning down a second shot from her friend.

"We've been tweeting," Octavia said with a mysterious smile. She took Clarke's shot for herself and then led them over to a booth near the bar.

"Tweeting? Seriously?" Clarke asked dryly, sliding into the booth opposite Octavia.

"Is he cute?" Raven asked.

Octavia let out a breathy laugh. "Fuck, yes."

The music stopped and silence descended over the club as three figures walked out onto the smoky stage. Screams and shouts began to fill the building. The band was about to start their first set.

"Wanheda!" A voice called out from the back of the club.

Octavia turned to them, her eyes dark with excitement. "They're starting."

Sweaty bodies were pressed up against Clarke in every direction. She let herself be jostled along with the crowd as the music blasted overhead. Though not normally having the same taste as Octavia in music (or anything, really), Clarke had to admit that the band, Wanheda, were good.

Clarke had lost Raven and Octavia earlier in the crowd. She had felt a spark of concern for Raven, but pushed it aside, knowing how mad her friend would be if she knew Clarke was worried about her. Raven could look after herself.

Clarke found herself being pushed to the very front of the crowd, directly in front of the stage. Looking up, she saw the band's guitarist right in front of her as the musician jammed out a mid-song solo. The guitarist slid to her knees on the stage as she amped up her solo. The girl's dark hair was braided away from her face, her bright green eyes surrounded in heavy black makeup that almost looked like war paint. Those same green eyes glanced up and locked their gaze with Clarke. It were only for a second, but it sent an electric surge through her. The crowd moved against her, pulling Clarke back away from the stage. Her vision blocked, she lost sight of the guitarist.

Clarke wasn't sure how long she was dancing in the crowd for. Sticky with sweat, her hair was stuck to her forehead. Her lips were chapped and voice hoarse from shouting out the lyrics with the crowd. She was aware she probably looked like shit right now.

The band slowly began to wind down their last set. The drums faded out with one last clash and the bassist, a tall woman with an angular face, stepped forward towards the mic to talk to the crowd. She thanked everyone for coming, her words almost drowned out by the loud screams from their fans. With one last cheer, the band left the stage, quickly replaced by the club DJ who once more started pumping out songs.

Clarke felt someone grab her by the hand and turned to see Octavia. The flushed and sweaty girl was grinning at her, barely able to contain her excitement. Her lips moved as she said something to Clarke, but her voice was drowned out by the song now playing.

"What?" Clarke shouted hoarsely.

Octavia shook her head and, with a tug of Clarke's hand, dragged her away from the stage. Confused, Clarke allowed Octavia to lead her through the club. She opened a side door that said 'STAFF ONLY' and pulled Clarke through into the room on the other side.

Clarke blinked as her eyes adjusted to the sudden light. She felt Octavia's hand leave hers as the girl moved across to the middle of the room, picking up a beer bottle from the table there. Popping the bottle open, Octavia took a swig of the drink and turned back to Clarke with a flourish. "Meet Wanheda."

With her eyes adjusted to the light, Clarke noticed that they weren't alone. Raven was there, sitting on a couch by the wall and nursing a can of rum. But she wasn't the only one. Sitting next to her on the couch was a tall dark-skinned man with huge tattooed arms. In his hands he was spinning two drumsticks; the drummer Octavia had mentioned. Sitting in the corner on an upturned crate was a tall woman, idly smoking a cigarette directly under a 'no smoking' sign on the wall. Clarke's gaze stopped on another woman lounging in a padded chair closest to her, fingers absentmindedly playing with a black guitar pick. Green eyes looked up at her and for a split second Clarke stopped breathing. Away from the smoke and darkness of the club, Clarke could see the guitarist properly for the first time, and god was she was beautiful.

The girl looked up at Clarke under heavy lidded eyes. "Lexa," she said, as way of greeting. With a wave of her hand, Lexa gestured to the man twirling drumsticks in both hands. "Lincoln."

The drummer, Lincoln, gave Clarke a crooked smile and an easy nod. Lexa had already moved passed him. Her hand gestured to the woman sitting in the corner on the upturned crate, a cigarette still dangling between two fingers. Her hair was braided in a similar fashion to Lexa's, and heavy makeup lined her face. "Anya," Lexa said. Her hand dropped back to her lap, her fingers playing with her guitar pick once again.

Clarke looked around the room, noticing that Octavia was now seated on Lincoln's lap, arms wrapped around his neck. Although this was the first time the two were meeting face to face, they had gotten friendly quickly. They were both laughing at something Raven had just said. Lexa, Clarke noticed, was watching her.

"I'm Clarke," she said, after an awkward pause.

"Did you enjoy the show?" Lexa asked her, the question sounding almost formal and rehearsed. There was an edge of tiredness to Lexa's voice.

"Yes," Clarke said. "It was great."

"Fuck yeah it was!" Octavia fist pumped from her seat on Lincoln's lap.

Lincoln grinned at her, "this girl has great taste."

"You know what, Lincoln? I'm actually going to have to agree with you there," Raven said begrudgingly. When Octavia began to mock celebrate by waving her beer bottle in the air, Raven held up one hand in warning. "This is a one-time exception, O. Your taste is generally terrible, but tonight was a good idea."

Clarke and Lincoln laughed loudly, and Clarke even noticed Anya send a small smile their way. They were interrupted by the door swinging inwards once again, flooding the room with loud music before it swung shut.

"That was an amazing set, guys. I think we have really locked down our sound."

Hearing a familiar voice, Clarke turned around. "Monty?" She asked, shocked.

The young man who stood there, messy black hair falling in front of his brown eyes, gaped at her. "Clarke?" He crossed the space between them in seconds and pulled her into a hug. Looking passed her, he noticed Octavia and Raven. "You guys are here too?"

"We're being groupies," Raven said wryly.

Octavia rolled her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Clarke asked, reaching out with one hand to fondly touch his arm.

"I'm their sound guy," Monty said, a grin plastered on his face.

"A damn good one at that," Anya nodded at him from her corner of the room. "He makes us sound great."

Monty looked down at his feet, cheeks beginning to redden.

"How do you know each other?" Lincoln asked curiously, looking between the four of them.

"We went to high school together," Octavia said with a familiar smile at Monty.

"I haven't seen them since graduation," Monty said. He walked over and sunk down into the last empty chair.

"Did you and Jasper end up going to Michigan together for university?" Clarke asked, leaning against the table in the middle of the room.

Monty nodded, "yeah, and we both got jobs with these guys after we graduated."

"Wait," Octavia sat up. "Jasper's here too?"

"Yeah," Monty said with a grin. "He's helping out with the band tour."

"We had no choice but to bring Jasper along," Lincoln said, lips twitched into a smirk. "Monty made it clear he was part of the package deal."

Everyone laughed as Monty looked down at his feet once more, his cheeks almost perpetually bright red by now. Turning, Clarke noticed for the first time that Lexa had disappeared from the room.

"Where is Jasper?" Raven asked.

Monty shrugged, "visiting Maya, his girlfriend. She lives here in New York and they don't get to see each other often." Reaching forward, he grabbed a water bottle off the table and twisted the cap. "So, what's new?"

"Bell's getting married in a week," Octavia told him.

Monty gaped at her. "No way! Your brother?"

Raven smirked at him, "yeah, who would have guessed that Bellamy would be the first one to settle down?" Her gaze drifted over to Clarke, "I had my money on you and Wells, to be honest."

Clarke rolled her eyes at her. "Well, you definitely would have lost that bet. Anyway, we don't even have a way of getting to the wedding."

"What wedding?"

Clarke turned to see Lexa had returned to the room. She had removed most of her makeup, a move that took away some of the hardness from her face. It also revealed the tiredness etched there.

"What wedding?" Lexa repeated, a tinge of frustration in her voice at being ignored.

With a start, Clarke realised everyone was waiting on her to answer. "Our friend, Bellamy, he's getting married in San Antonio in a week."

"And what is the problem?" Lexa asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"We, uh," Clarke looked back at Raven and Octavia for support, feeling completely flabbergasted in front of this woman and not knowing why. "We don't really have a way of getting to San Antonio."

Lexa stood silently for a moment, her gaze appraising Clarke. "There are many forms of travel, Clarke," she said finally.

Lincoln suddenly spoke up from his seat on the couch, "our tour takes us right through San Antonio." He looked at Octavia, "you guys could hitch a ride with us. We can make space on the bus."

Octavia quickly glanced at Raven and Clarke, the anticipation and excitement evident on her face. "Clarke?" She asked, when Raven just shrugged at her.

"Would that be ok?" Although Lincoln had offered, Clarke found herself directing her question to Lexa. Clarke had a feeling that it was Lexa that had the final say so in these matters.

Lexa was silent for a moment. Her eyes flickered over every single person in the room, finally settling once more on Clarke. "Alright, Clarke," she said. "We will get you and your friends to this wedding in time."

With a loud whoop, Octavia sprung off Lincoln's lap. "We're going to San Antonio!" She raised her beer up to her lips, a flash of disappointment crossing her face when she realised it was empty. "We need shots," she said, looking down at Raven.

Raven waved both arms in the air in agreement, taking up Octavia's chant. "Shots, shots, shots!"

Octavia headed towards the door, Raven cheering her on from the couch. Noticing the way Octavia was slightly unsteady on her feet, Clarke made to follow her friend to the bar. Before she could leave the room, a voice called out her name. A hand reached out and stopped her with a gentle touch to the shoulder. Clarke turned around.

"Lexa?" Clarke asked, confused.

Lexa stopped, as though she were suddenly unsure of her actions. "We always have an after-party following a show."

Clarke didn't say anything, wondering instead why this woman was having another party when she looked like all she wanted to do was sleep. Her silence seemed to frustrate Lexa more.

"You should come," Lexa said, the words drawn out slowly. She looked at Clarke, brows furrowed. Her face was an expression of conflict, as though she secretly hoped Clarke would say no.

Instead, Clarke smiled. "Ok."