Author's Note: I've written this one alongside Touta Matsuda once again :) Please enjoy! And reviews are always welcome, even if this has been up for a really long time :) :) ;)

"Rise and shine, superstar."

A familiar voice tore Castiel away from his peaceful slumber, "Nn..." He looked up and his eyes met those of his manager's, "God you suck," he groaned and pulled the blankets over his head. For a fleeting second he had his dreams back, but that was short lived. Michael angrily took hold of his cover and ripped it away from him.

"I said get up, Castiel!" Michael shouted, the others were already up and roaming their tour bus. "We've made it to the hotel and-"

"Why didn't you say so? Now I can sleep in a bed..." Cas mumbled as he sat up, his arms shaking as he stretched them out above his head. A long yawn escaped him, his tongue sticking out in the midst of it then wetting his dry lips as it ended. "Where are we?"

"Lawrence, little angel," Anna smirked as she trotted past his bunk.

"Hey," he protested in a tired voice, "Only my fans get to call me 'angel'..." he watched as she gave a playful wave before disappearing into the bathroom. He blinked lazily for a moment before it dawned on him; "Ah you bitch!" he exclaimed, struggling to climb out of his bed, "Not fair I just woke up! I gotta pee!" he pounded his fist against the door but all he heard was resounding laughter from the rest of the bus. He turned an annoyed gaze on his band mates, Gabriel and Balthazar, "Yeah yeah, very funny guys..." he leaned against the bathroom door and slid down it, landing on his butt with a profound 'ooph'.

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose, "Okay, guys. Let's take this seriously, okay? This is our first out of state gig, we need to do well. And I mean really well, okay? Do you understand?"

Cas sighed, running his hand through his mussy hair, "I understand that if you say 'okay' one more time I might start feeling self conscious." He looked up at Michael, "I mean honestly, you never repeat yourself like that unless you're nervous. I'm starting to think you don't believe in me."

Anna opened the door, causing Cas to fall back slightly, "Of course not," she smiled down at his bewildered expression, "But we have to believe a little bit, so we'll save our faith for when it's important." She stepped past him as he struggled to get up again. "Like when we're performing, for example."

Cas rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah." He vanished into the bathroom. Once he was finished his business and washed his hands, he stopped and looked up at himself in the mirror. He watched his blue eyes stare back at him, and watched as they narrowed in determination. 'I won't screw this up. Not now, not ever. It's too important.' He quickly brushed his teeth and stepped out to join the others again. As he wandered to his bunk again he reached into his bag for his clothes, "So what's the plan for today?"

Michael frowned at him, "I guess, now that you're listening, I'll tell you. First we have an interview with the local news station, then a quick photo-op. Thanks to the bus almost breaking down we'll have to stay for a while, and we'll need to rent a vehicle. So I booked a few things before and after our concert, including a bit of a 'fan gimmick'."

"Fan gimmick?" Cas tilted his head at Michael, "What are you talking about?"

"I gave one of the radio stations a few tickets to give out to callers. They're VIP tickets, including a gift package of some merchandise." Michael explained, "And these VIP tickets are special, they get to come backstage and meet you guys. Well, it's more than that really."

"Just finish explaining it," Anna sighed.

"They get to hang out with you guys the day after, as well." Michael added, a smirk crossing his lips.

Cas laughed, "Great!" he looked at them after pulling a tight-black muscle shirt over his head, "We get to meet some of our fan base. Sounds exciting." He rummaged through his things before finding his trench coat mixed in with his blanket. Apparently he'd been sleeping with it again. He pulled it on and adjusted the collar, "So what happens after the interview and stuff? We have any plans for tonight?"

Michael shrugged, "No, not really. You guys are free tonight."

"Perfect." Cas smiled, "I'm gonna find me a club."

Sam sighed heavily as he tossed his things into his book bag, he'd just finished his last exam of this year's term. Law school wouldn't be easy to get into, but he had his fingers crossed. He'd really wanted to go to Stanford a year or so back, but something in him just told him to stay in Kansas. Family was important to the Winchester and Campbell bloodlines, Sam had been raised in that environment and it'd been rammed into his skull enough times that he valued family in a similar way.

It was Friday night and like every weekend, Sam was going to meet up with his brothers and a couple friends. What they didn't know was that Sam had a surprise for three of them. He'd scored 6 tickets to see the new up and coming band, Pleasure My Angel. And they weren't just regular, last minute tickets. They were VIP, backstage pass, floor seats that included a 'hang out day' with the band. Their group hadn't had enough money to buy tickets to the event and had all (well, all but Dean) wanted to see it. The last two weekends involved them complaining about missing out on the concert, to Dean's dismay.

Bella was the center of attention before Sam had arrived, as she always preferred the case to be. Unless of course it suited her better to go unnoticed. "Not a joke at all," she assured her entranced audience of three. "In an interview with MTV Castiel was asked about the band's name and how they chose it. The Interviewer eluded to Castiel's reputation for angelic singing, and asked if it was a shortened version of someone politely asking an angel to sing for them, like "It would be a pleasure if you joined us, my angel." Sort of like "My liege" type of speaking. And do you know what Castiel did?"

"What?" Chuck asked eagerly, always getting too involved in Bella's stories for his own good. He simply enjoyed listening to her talk, which was a good trait to have if he were going to be her friend.

"He laughed at them! It was the cutest laugh I have ever heard. After tearing up a bit, he finally answered. 'No, no, it was nothing like that,' he said, 'It's more like instructions to my fans from the band regarding me: Pleasure, like the verb or action, My Angel, being me.' It was the funniest thing I'd ever heard!"

Chuck broke out laughing and turned to Adam to share in the humour. "That's awesome, I didn't know that Castiel was so funny on top of being so talented. Oh, hey Sam."

Sam walked into their usual diner to find Adam, Jo, Chuck and Bela already sitting there. He knew Dean wouldn't be as excited as them -or at all for that matter- so he decided to explain right away. Sam sat down immediately and held up the envelope, "You guys will never guess what's in here."

Sam's arrival came with good news and a sealed package. The group was curious before Sam even had to taunt the questions 'what's in this envelope?'

Jo looked up at him, a bit surprised that he'd been so chipper. "Uhm... a scholarship?"

Sam laughed, "No, they're tickets." He opened the envelope and splayed the six tickets, "To see Pleasure My Angel."

Jo shrieked in a fit of joy, "Oh my GOD Sam!" She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, "You are my hero!" he grabbed one of the tickets and jumped up and down in her seat excitedly, looking over at Bela, "We get to see Castiel! In person!"

Jo spoke the words on everyone's mind, and they waited anxiously to see what was inside. Sam broke the news as he broke into a grin, and Bella couldn't help but shriek with fangirlish joy right alongside Jo. Bella bolted out of her seat and was the second girl in the span of 30 seconds to be hanging off of Sam and kissing his cheek. She eagerly snatched a ticket and engaged in fangirl conversation with Jo.

"It's more than that, Jo," Sam grinned, "These are VIP tickets, it's floor seating and backstage passes." He was going to tell them about the 'get to spend a day with the band' part, but he figured he'd try to drag out this little ecstasy moment. After all, they could always read that part on the back of the ticket themselves.

"I get to MEET Castiel!" She squealed, "Oh my god! Oh my god Sam!" She gleefully hugged the ticket and promptly shoved it into her pocket.

"In person! I can't imagine. It will be wonderful! Oh! I just can't wait!" Her eyes were sparkling more than when she received her car for her birthday. Bella stopped their shrill conversation for a couple seconds, and almost fainted. "VIP! Backstage! That's amazing! Sam, how did you get these?"

Sam like listening to music, he never really made a point of fawning over the actual musicians. He figured that they'd get it enough of that from the rest of their fan base. No, Sam was actually very impressed with this group. From what he'd read, this band had been founded by a complete fluke. They were a no-name group at first but in one of their hometown's clubs the lead singer had been discovered. He had climbed onto the stage, interrupting a performance –that had been documented as fairly terrible- and took hold of the microphone. The club had been having difficulties with their sound system that weekend, the mic worked just fine so this man known as Castiel started singing for the partiers. His voice was shocking; no one had ever heard anything like it before. It was beautiful, some described it as angelic.

That's where he got the nickname from, or so Sam had read. People called him 'angel', 'the angel', things like that. "Anyway," Sam smirked, "Where's Dean? I've got an extra ticket for him."

Jo laughed, "Are you kidding? He'll never come!"

"I think he will, a free dinner is included." Sam grinned.

Chuck calmly took a ticket from Sam, although his arm was shaking like he was reaching for the Holy Grail. "You'll forgive me if I don't shriek and jump around like they did," Chuck added jokingly.

Sam grinned from ear to ear as he watched the girls' excitement; he casually handed the ticket to Chuck and gave him a knowing look, "No worries, Chuck. I get it." Bella did as much research as he'd done, or at least watched the same interviews. The girls were overly excited, which was more than enough for Sam.

Da dada dada da da da da," Dean happily sang along with the guitar solo from Iron Maiden's 2 Minutes to Midnight - Powerslave was one of their best albums ever. And one of the best activities in the world ever was singing along to rock's classics and greatest while rolling down the highway in his '67 Chevy Impala. Some people didn't seem to understand music as well as they thought, and this thought went out directly to his little brother Sammy who insisted he knew what music was. Yeah right. Music is more than flashy performances, bright lights, and a pretty lead singer. Hell, that was probably the worst of music, although flashy is pretty cool. Music is a philosophy of life, how else could people have such a religious-like obsession with the stuff? The heart and soul of rock and metal - especially the good old stuff, was comprised of having heart and having character, and most importantly, having the balls to stand up for yourself and kick authority in the teeth. It was kickass music with a kickass message, and if Dean had to spend one more weekend listening to his friend whine and cry over missing that stupid pop rock concert, someone was going to receive a kick in the ass.

Dean was headed down to the gang's usually haunt, an old diner on the west end of town. He'd be the last one there, as usual. The shop had longer hours on Fridays to compensate for early closure on Saturdays. Dean found it hilarious that they ran almost government-like hours: 9-5, mon-fri. Who in the world has time to bring their car in during the day? Everyone was always pissed and irritated that they missed this or that. But really, when your car breaks down it doesn't matter what day or time of day it is, a piss poor mood is inevitable.

Sure enough, Dean found everyone's vehicles outside upon arrival - Sam's overpriced Mazda (because he was living the life of a big town lawyer without the title), Bella's Chevrolet Convertible (because her parents are filthy, stinking rich), and Chuck's bicycle with the basket on the back (because that's just too funny. The man claimed to be a writer, but that didn't seem to be getting him anywhere). Jo probably got a ride from Bella (regular bffs, those two), or was dropped off by her mother, Ellen. Dean had always admired how the Harvelle's had similar family values as the Winchesters and Campbells.

Sam couldn't stop smiling at the group in front of him, Bella had asked him where he'd gotten them and he wished he had a more interesting story to tell her, "The radio station, 102.1. They announced a special contest around 6 this morning, saying that whoever called and could name each band member of Pleasure My Angel, and give the name of their hometown, would win 6 tickets to see the show. Plus all the extra stuff. I have a bunch of merchandise in my car," He grinned again, "Who wants a t-shirt with Cass' face on it?"

Jo squealed again, though this time it was interrupted by Dean.

Still humming Iron Maiden upon entering the diner, Dean was quickly forced to plug his ears to save them from bleeding out. "What the hell are you screaming about?" Dean was a little ticked off, that sort of squealing was only ever accompanied by fangirlish obsession. "I mean seriously, did the Cassiel guy propose to you or something?"

"It's Castiel," Bella hastily corrected him. A hint of annoyance and a lot of attitude was to follow, "C-A-S-T-I-E-L. Get it right."

Jo was with Bella immediately on correcting Dean's mistake, "Castiel! It's Castiel!" She shouted at him as Bella literally spelled it out for him. Of course, he didn't care.

"Spare me," Dean spat, and slid into the booth next to Sam, forcing him to shove over. "No really, what's up?" Dean looked over at the diner counter to the waitress. He winked and smiled, "The usual please, extra bacon."

Bella snatched another ticket from Sam's envelope and handed it to Dean to read. Dean looked it over. "Pleasure My Angel? Seriously?" This was the last thing Dean wanted to hear about, especially right on arrival. The good news was they weren't weeping over it anymore. Dean flipped the ticket over. He'd seen ticket stubs before, but this one was different. Like Willy Wonka's gold ticket or something. "A 'hang out' day with the band? Are these even legit?"

"Oh my god!" Bella flipped her ticket over and read it. "We get to meet the band, in person, AND spend the entire next day with them! I'm going to sleep with Castiel, and that's final. I called dibs."

"Not if I do first," Dean joked, more than evident sarcasm dripping in his voice.

"Ha ha, Dean. Very funny," Bella had her practised and proven unamused face on, and quickly went back to eyeing her ticket.

Sam sat quietly as Dean questioned the whole thing and the others tried to explain it for him. He just grinned harder when Dean absent-mindedly mentioned the hang out day. Jo's shriek made him flinch, though the more they enjoyed his surprise the better he felt. "Yep, they're legit Dean. I got them from the radio station that PMA is usually played on. That one's yours."

"Mine, huh? Who even said I wanted to go?" Even as Dean spoke, he was pocketing the ticket in the inside pocket of his old leather jacket.

"There's free food," Chuck explained, using Sam's sure-fire convincing card.

"Fine. But you know I'm going to tell them to their faces that they suck, right? I hope you won't get too embarrassed." Dean smirked, clearly aware that he was being an ass, and intended to continue to do so.

Sam could have burst into laughter when Chuck used the 'free food' method immediately, Dean's switch flipped just like that. Free food meant he would be there without fail, at least until the food was consumed. "Go ahead, Dean." Sam encouraged Dean's douche-baggery at this point. He knew that Castiel was a fire-cracker and wouldn't hesitate to get into a fight with his brother, which would lead to the body guards beating Dean to hell. Whatever it took to get the guy to shut up, Sam was willing to let it happen. He'd taken Dean insulting his taste in music for his entire life; maybe something good would come of it now, like Dean getting a face full of fist.

"Whatever. You all got what you wanted -tickets to this stupid concert. Now we don't have to spend all evening mourning your losses. Are we going to hit the club or what? It's Friday night, guys. We can't just sit around here like old coffee going seniors."

Bella laughed, "You hate club music."

"That's because it's not music," Dean answered matter-of-factly. "Not the club or your stupid angel band even know what real music is. They don't have the talent of Jimmy Paige or Steve Harris, and that Cas guy doesn't have the stage presence of Ozzy. He wouldn't know stage presence if it bit him in the ass. No one wants angels, they want demons and hellfire. They're not going to get anywhere with a name like that other than the bad books of some over the wall Christian mothers group. Now let's get up, and get going."

Chuck wasn't going to point out that Dean didn't actually answer the discrepancy of wanting to go to the club, but hating the music there. Chuck figured he'd be safer if he just shut up.

"I'm up for a club tonight," Sam stood up, trying to ignore Dean's commentary. Having a name like Pleasure My Angel would gather more attention than Dean thought. People liked demons and hellfire, sure. But something people loved was a pure, perfect thing being dirtied. Castiel was far from an angel, he loved sex, drinking, partying, just like every other young man around his age. Of course he was gorgeous, beautiful blue eyes, cute even stubble defining his full lips; his voice was described as angelic but other than those points, he was far from being a soldier of heaven.

Sam also didn't feel like arguing the stage presence of Castiel and his group, he'd heard amazing things about them. Jo, however, didn't want to let it go. As they walked out to their vehicles she fell into step next to Dean, "You've never seen them perform; you can't possibly know what kind of stage presence they have! And it's not like you did the research like we have, Dean. Maybe don't judge them until you've seen them, because I know you've never even see their faces!"

Dean was certain that he could have cared a little less about the topic, at least then he wouldn't have bothered to answer Jo's harassment defence case. "Stage presence has nothing to do with their faces. It has even less to do with whether or not I've seen their faces. And I don't really care how much research you've done. If they had presence, and better still if they had talent, you wouldn't have to research it -you would hear about it. All I hear is the hype about how attractive they are. Rolling Stone doesn't mention them, and neither do any of my other music mags."

"Just leave him, Jo." Sam smirked, "I'll meet you guys at the club." He hopped into his car and took off, knowing he'd have Dean and Bella on his tail in seconds. The level of competition those two had was phenomenal, almost scary at times.

Dean would have continued the debate no problem -he was right afterall, why quit? But Sam bolted for his car and made a speedy exit. "Oh no you don't," Dean muttered, taking the challenge. Dashing to his car, Dean turned the key to bring his baby rumbling to life. Adam hopped in the passenger seat, having been too slow to catch up with Sam's long-legged strides. So long as his door was closed before Dean tore out of the diner parking lot, he didn't really care.

Sam's quick exit started something that may otherwise have never occurred. Bella saw the look on Dean's face -the somewhat pained expression he had when he tried to think. Bella grabbed Jo's arm and darted for her car as well. It was the sweetest ride, in her opinion. It was new and sexy and could beat Dean's old Impala any day, but she had to try and prove that to Dean every time. She followed Dean's black marks off the lot and tore after him down the street.

Chuck threw his hands up in the air in defeat. "C'mon guys! You forgot about me!" Hanging his head and admittedly pouting a bit, Chuck trudged over to his 5-speed bicycle and started peddling. It would be a while before he caught up to the others at the club.