A/N - Hello Again! Just want to stop by and say thank you for the positive review! It's making me happy that people actually read this story because honestly I didn't think anyone would. So yay for people! Also, if you haven't noticed, all the titles of these chapters will be named after popular songs of the '60s. Chapter 1 was obviously Bob Dylan's and today's fine chapter happens to be named after "One Fine Day" by Chiffons. So once again, grab your record player and some vinyls and Jump Into the Fog with Me...

Chapter 2 – One Fine Day

The next few days go by great. Owen always used to yell at me for blaring my records and the radio too loud, but now I get to live on a boat that blared those records 24 hours a day and hangout with the DJs who play them. It's also pretty nice to find a fellow American in the sea of British accents around me. The Count's cool, too. He'd been my favorite DJ ever since Gavin left, although, I will admit I pictured him to be a bit more…attractive. It doesn't matter, though. Neither does his chain-smoking or over-use of various curse words. He and Simon have been my best friends from the start.

I've really warmed up to the whole Quentin-being-my-dad thing as well. By looking at him you wouldn't think he was the affectionate type of guy, but from day one he's treated me less like someone he just found out existed and more like a daughter who's just returned from a long trip and been greatly missed.

The guys are great too. I admit, I was pretty nervous at first. But can you blame me? Living on a ship with some of the most popular icons of our time is a little intimidating. But when you get to know them, they're really not. They're really just a bunch of misfits who live for music. And I can relate.

It's a warm yet overcast day, and the 2 week anniversary of my arrival on Radio Rock. I'm sat on the deck smoking a cigarette and laughing at Angus as he broadcasts. (Laughing AT him. Not WITH him, just to be clear.)

As I suck the last bit of smoke into my lungs and throw the butt into the North Sea, Dave approaches me with an interesting offer.

"10 quid to smash four eggs over my head?" I repeat. "That's it?"

"That's it." He says with a mischievous smile.

I eye him suspiciously. He's definitely up to something, I can tell, but if I can get 10 pounds out of it why not? So I agree.

He leads me to the boiler room where a carton of eggs already lay innocently on the table. Simon is in the corner reading a book about woodpeckers and glances up questioningly as we enter.

"Amy, here, has agreed to let me smash four eggs over her head in exchange for ten pounds." Explains Dave.

"Is that so?" The Count sounds almost sarcastic as he walks into the room and sits next to Simon. "Sounds like a good deal to me." He lights up a cigarette and takes a puff.

Simons eyes widen as he looks from the Count, then to Dave, then to me. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it as he's shot a warning look from Dave.

Great.

I sit in the chair Dave pulls out for me. "Alright" I say. "Let's get this over with."

The Count stifles a laugh while Dave takes the first egg out of the carton.

"Right" he begins. "Egg number one."

It's brought down onto my head with a sickening crack, oozing down my face and clinging sloppily to my pure black hair.

The Count laughs loudly and Simon hides a tiny grin as egg number two slides down the pale skin of my face. I hide a visible cringe at the slimy feeling.

"œuf trough" Dave announces proudly, smashing egg three on me.

Suddenly, he pauses. "You know what? I shan't cast egg four."

I stare at him. "What? So I only get…" I pause to calculate what ¾ of ten pounds is. "Whatever ¾ of ten quid is?" I really shouldn't have dropped out of school.

"Actually, the deal was ten pounds for four eggs. I only smashed three."

I stare more intensely. "So I don't get anything? How the fuck is that fair?"

"Well, my dear, that is the lesson learned here; life is not fair."

The room bursts into laughter, all except me of course. I didn't want a stupid life lesson, I want my ten fucking pounds!

While the three stooges are too busy laughing at my naivety, I stealthily walk over to the carton of eggs, grab one in each hand, and merrily smash Dave and the Count over the head with them. They freeze, looks of surprise and disgust crossing their faces in an amusing way.

Simon basically keels over laughing, his page in his woodpecker book long since lost. But I'm not as stealthy grabbing this egg and the smile drops from his face as he sees me and bolts out the door.

I sprint after him, rounding corridors and down hallways. As I finally catch up to him, I jump onto his back and smash the round, white food item right over his head. He falls over, laughing and cringing from the slimy substance falling down his face, taking me with him.

We end up toppled over on the floor breathing heavily and laughing hysterically.

"You" he finally said, catching his breath "are a fast runner."

I giggle. "It's been said." I reply as I extend a hand and help him up.