It had been almost eight years since she had been back to Sunnydale. When she was eighteen, she graduated from Sunnydale High and moved to live with her dad in Los Angeles. She knew that should have to come back again, but she didn't think it would be so soon. She dreaded it. She knew he was still living there. Her mother had said she still saw him around town.

William Pratt.

Supposedly, he was popular now. He went to university and became an English teacher and all the other students loved him. Which surprised her. His high school years were nothing to brag about. He was the bullied kid, and no one stood up for him.

Not even her.

Her high school years were good to her. She was head cheerleader, prom queen, girlfriend of the quarterback, she led every girls high school dream life. And she hated every moment of it. Ever since that first week of grade nine, she hated herself and what she had done to him.

She was a world known singer now. Using her voice and her good looks for money.

She did love it, but there were some times when she just felt so...fake . Everyone loved her because she was 'such a good person', and yet on the inside, she felt she was anything but.

Now, she had to go back to the one place she dreaded, and she didn't know what to think. What if she ran into him? What if he hated her? What if she tried to talk to him? Would he turn his back on her like she did so many years ago?

She didn't know, but she would try. She would find him and talk to him. Apologise for the misdoing she did when they were fourteen. She hoped that he would listen to her, because she still felt so much remorse for her actions and she wanted to apologise and be forgiven.

She didn't deserve it, but it was all she could ask for.

She sat on her bed, thinking about everything that was Sunnydale when it caught her eye. Her high school yearbook. She jumped off her bed and got it, laying back down on her stomach to look at it.

She hadn't even thought about this yearbook in so long, it was time to have a peek at it.

She set it in front of her, studying the cover, taking in all of the colours before she opened it up.

Of course, the first two pages were covered in signatures from her friends, telling her to have a great summer and to keep in touch. She never really did, though. After high school was over she lost touch with everyone. Including Angel who was supposed to be the love of her life. She flipped through the next couple of pages, giggling at the silly pictures of peers from around the school.

She came to the student's pages and flipped to the grade 12 pages, scanning for the picture of William. When she found it, her heart skipped a beat at the look of sadness in his eyes and the fake smile that was playing on his lips. Even now, eight years since the last time she saw him, her heart still ached for him and how she had let him down.

Her fingers traced the small picture, reading the words underneath.

William B. Pratt
Be strong. You never know who is leading a much worse life than you are.

Tears formed around her eyes as she reread his quote. Truer words never spoken. He had to be the strongest person she knew, dealing with everything from his school life and his family life.

Her memories came forward, spinning around her mind as she stared at his picture. There weren't many memories with him, but what there was, she remembered everything. Their bike races in the morning, the time she talked to him as they walked around the schoolyard, and the incident when everything changed.

Before she knew what she was doing...she was singing. A song that she had just thought up. She reached for her journal and scribbled everything down.

By the time she was done, she had a rough draft of a song and the melody. She flipped open her cell phone and dialled her manager.

After settling a few last arrangements with her manager for the concert, she hung up the phone and looked at the picture of him again.

“I'll make it up to you, William.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Spike sat at his table in the bronze, nursing a semi-cold beer as he studied the poster on the column in front of him. He had followed her career since she started. Why? He liked to think he didn't know...

Of course he knew. It wasn't because he went to school with her. It wasn't because he liked her particular type of music... no, It was because he loved her. Always had, always will. She was his angel.

She may not have come through for him in the end, but he understood why she didn't. Sort of.

He knew she would never love him. He knew she had only talked to him that one time because she pitied him. Yet, he still put her on that pedestal. But also, he didn’t. He knew she was a three dimensional person. Not just the cheerleader everyone else saw. He wanted to believe she would be his light at the end of the tunnel, but he wasn't worthy. She was light and he was dark.

He never held it against her. It was how it was supposed to be.

Now, she was coming back. The light of his years was coming back to bath him in her splendour again, and he was nervous. Would she recognise him? Would she want to talk to him? Did she regret when she had done to him so many years ago?

“Will just have to wait and find out, mate.”

He swallowed the last mouthful of his beer and stood up, delicately taking the poster of Buffy Summers off the column and rolled it up. He stuck inside his jacket pocket and walked out of the club.

He would be back tomorrow.

TBC

The song she had written two days prior had been stuck in her head for the whole plane trip to Sunnydale. Now, she was backstage at the Bronze, occasionally peeking out and scanning the crowd. She recognized a couple of the people from school, but he was no where to be seen.

She was disappointed. She wanted him to hear the song live, right from her mouth. 'I'll do a couple of songs first, then I'll do his song. He will come. I hope...' She thought to herself as she let her stylist put the finishing touches on her makeup.

She had a white tank top on with black leather pants, her makeup was minimal so she could look natural. She didn't want this gig to be a huge event like her usuals. She wanted it to be like she was performing for friends and family in her hometown.

The manager of the club stepped forward, obviously nervous and speechless and she thrust her hand out toward Buffy. “He-Hey.. I'm Wi-Willow. You m-might remember me from high school?”

Buffy searched her face for familiarity, but came up with nothing. Buffy shook her head, giving the shaking girl a frown. “I'm sorry, I don't remember you,” Buffy took Willow's hand, and shook it.

Willow pushed some hair behind her ear and waved her hand. “Oh, that's okay. I wasn't popular like you were. I just wanted to thank you for playing at my club tonight. We are completely packed!”

Buffy smiled and nodded. “I see that. I'm really excited to play tonight. Being back in my hometown is just...” she paused, trying to find the right words. “It's amazing.” Buffy pulled Willow into a hug, surprising her.

Willow hugged her back, amazed that she was so nice. Usually, other famous people weren't so warm. Willow pulled back and smiled. “You're on in 3 minutes. You ready?”

Buffy's face broke out into a beaming smile and she nodded her head vigorously. “Yes. Very ready. I'm so excited! But I have a question.”

“Sure, anything.”

“Do you know if William Pratt will be here tonight?” Buffy asked, her hopes high.

“You mean Spike? He's always here.”

Willow lead Buffy to the stage side and pointed to a man with sharp cheekbones and slicked back hair. He was sitting by himself and he looked... somber.

“There he is.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Spike sat in his chair. He decided to skip drinking tonight. He wanted to enjoy the show without any alcohol in his system, and hoped that he might be able to talk to Buffy after her set. He looked at his watch, growing nervous as he saw there was one more minute until she came out.

He thought back to the last time he had saw her. Her face glowing as they lowered the crown onto her pin straight hair. Her pink prom dress matched her skin tone beautifully and made her eyes shine. The smile she had on was like a ray of sunshine, her happiness warmed his heart. He would never forget when she looked at him that night and how her face fell slightly. She tilted her head and a sympathetic smile took over her happy one. It was then that he knew that she was sorry for what she had done.

A blast of cheers and applause pulled him out of his reverie and his head shot up to look at the blond woman taking a seat at the stool in front of the microphone. God, she was just as beautiful as she was in high school.

Music started to play, fast and upbeat and she thrummed her fingers against her thigh as she counted her way into the song. Then, to his amazement, she looked at him. Right into his eyes and he felt himself melt. She knew. She knew who he was. He was too shocked to smile, to move, to do anything. So he just sat there with a passive look on his face.

He notice her smile falter and her fingers stop moving. She waved at her band mates, telling them silently to stop what they were doing. The crowd groaned and she finally took her eyes off of him. She looked at everyone in the crowd and then she sighed.

She pulled took the microphone off it's stand and he saw a look of fear wash over her face. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, as if she was fighting for the words to say. He tilted his head to the side, intrigued by her behavior and waited for her to begin.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Buffy knew what she wanted to say, she just didn't know how.

Standing up there in front of at least 150 of her fans in the small space, each of them looking up at her expectantly, and she was at a loss for words.

She looked over at him again, seeing his face tilted to the side as if begging her to say what he needed to say and she found her courage. She brought her other hand up and placed it over her other hand. Now gripping the microphone with both hands, she began her little speech.

“As most of you probably know, Sunnydale is my hometown. It's really amazing to be back, to feel the support and the love everyone is and have been giving me is just... well, amazing.” She giggled lightly, and then sighed. “But being here.. has also brought back some memories that I wish that I could go back and do over. And that's what the first song is about.”

“I wrote it two days ago, about a boy in high school that I let down. He is here tonight--” she looked over at him but made it seem like she was just scanning the crowd so she wouldn't bring attention to him. “You know who you are.”

She sat down on the stool and placed the microphone back in it's holder, adjusting it so it was where she needed it. “It's called 'Caught in the Crowd'”

She motioned to her band and they started to play the soft tune.

There was guy at my school, when I was in high school
We rode side by side in the morning on our bicycles
We never even spoke or faced each other
but on the last hill we'd race each other

When we reached the racks we'd each go our own way
I wasn't in his classes, I didn't know his name
When we finally got to speak, he just stared at his feet
and mumbled a sentence that ended with 'Will'

She looked over at him, praying that he hadn't left. But he was still there, that same look of intrigue on his face as he watched her sing.

She let a small frown play on her lips as she tried her hardest to convey her emotions to him.

I was young and caught in the crowd
I didn't know then what I know now
I dumb and I was proud
And I'm sorry
If I could go back and do it again
I'd be someone you could call friend
Please, Please believe that I'm sorry

When no emotion passed his face again, she took her eyes off of him and looked at the rest of the people in the crowd. She had to make him believe that she was sorry.

She needed him to know that.

Well, he was quite a nice guy, kind of shy and quiet
When the kids called him weird he didn't try to deny it
Every lunchtime he'd spend it walking by himself
Around the boundary of the grounds until he heard the bell

Well, one day I found him and joined him on his walk
We were silent for awhile until he started to talk
I told him my family was fighting in court
He said his step dad and him always fought

She couldn't help but smile at this part of the song.

It was when they had set the grounds for friendship that she had later obliterated.

She looked at him again, knowing this time she wouldn't take her eyes off of him. He had straightened his head, now just looking at her in a cool manner. Like he wasn't even affected by the words of her song. She wanted to weep, run of the stage and leave Sunnydale and never come back.

But she wasn't going to turn her back on him again. This time, she would do something right.

We talked about music, he was into punk
He told me all the bands that I liked were junk
I said I never heard the songs The Sex Pistols sang
I laughed back and him and then the bell rang

I was young and caught in the crowd
I didn't know then what I know now
I dumb and I was proud
And I'm sorry
If I could go back and do it again
I'd be someone you could call friend
Please, Please believe that I'm sorry

She was starting to shake. This was the first time she would ever admit to having hurt him the way that she did. She never told anyone or sang about it before. Her nerves were getting to her, but she powered through them, using all of her courage to get through it.

His face was a little softer as he listened to her words. He was surprised that she had remembered so much about their short friendship. He had remembered every detail, but didn't expect her to.

He shook his head and tuned into her music. He saw the way she was lightly shaking, so it must have been a crucial part of the song.

It was after school in the afternoon
The corridors were crowded as we came out of the rooms
Three guys I knew pushed him into the cement
Threw away his bag and said he had no friends

He yelled that he did and he looked around
He tried getting up, but they pushed him on down
Thats when he saw me and called out my name...

She couldn't take the intensity of it all, so she lowered her head, taking in all the shame the next words held for her.

And I turned my back, and just walked away...

She looked back up at him as her eyes filled with tears. She felt so terrible to this day, and she hoped he realised that.

Yeah, I turned my back, and just walked away

I was young and caught in the crowd
I didn't know then what I know now
I was dumb and I was young
And I'm sorry
If I could go back and do it again
I'd be someone you could call friend
Please, please believe that I'm sorry

As she sang the rest of the song while staring at him, watching him watch her as she spilled everything that happened.

He still looked so passive and she couldn't help but let the built up tears fall down her cheek. He didn't like the song, he didn't forgive her. She knew this would just be bad.

She shouldn't have come. She shouldn't have written this silly song...

When the music was finished, the crowd was silent. She sat on her stool, just staring at William.

Still, silence...

She couldn't take her eyes off of him. But her body had different ideas. She slowly stood up, planning to run from the stage until the crowd all of a sudden burst into applause. She was absolutely stunned by the crowds enthusiasm.

She scanned the crowd starting from the left, basking in the praise that didn't really mean a thing to her. It only meant something if he approved.

Finally, her eyes landed on him, the roars from the fans still as loud as they started, and yet they were both unmoved by it.

Slowly, he stood up and she felt like a cold bucket of water was poured over her.

What surprised her, was instead of walking away from her, he walked toward her. Taking wide, proud strides to the stage and then he jumped on it.

They stood there in front of each other, the crowd's immediate silence lost on them.

Finally, he broke into a smile and pulled her to him, clinging to her as she dissolved into a fit of tears, sobbing and whimpering how sorry she was.

When she pulled back, she placed a hand on the side of his face and he leaned into her touch. “I really really am sorry, William.” she said softly, loving the way his arms felt around her waist.

He tilted his head, his smile never faltering. “I know, luv,” he said simply, making her squirm and wait for his next words. “I knew you were sorry a long time ago. I never held it against you.”

She choked out another sob, the feeling of self peace washed over her as he stared at her with ultimate forgiveness in his eyes. “Took you long enough to say it though, didn't it?”

And then he kissed her, a soft chaste kiss which she reciprocated instantly.

She was forgiven.

The End