A/N: Welcome to the sequel of 'Bloomers'. It's VITAL that you read that one first. It can be found on my profile.

"Howard? Moon! Wake up, you berk!" Naboo was banging on his bedroom door. He was in his bedroom. How did he get to his bedroom?

Howard cracked open one eye and immediately wished he hadn't. He wasn't in his room. He was in Vince's room; and Vince's room was not the best place to be hung over in.

Naboo banged again and Howard rolled towards the edge of the bed. He overestimated the distance, however; falling with a loud thunk. He groaned and crawled to the door, eyes still closed. He felt his way to the knob and pulled himself up, opening the door.

"I'm awake." His voice sounded like he was talking through a tin. Maybe that was just the way it sounded in his head.

Naboo had been knocking on Howard's door and, upon seeing him come out of Vince's room, he sighed and gave him a sad look, "You sound awful, Howard. In fact, you look awful too. I was going to tell you that you're late to open the shop but I don't want you scaring off customers. Take the day off."

Howard ran a hand through his greasy hair. He didn't look that bad, did he? He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror next to the door and had to stare for a moment. Was that him? He didn't recognize himself anymore.

For starters, he'd grown a beard. He could practically hear Vince telling him to shave the abomination off his face before they were seen together. Howard didn't have the energy to shave though, so he just let it grow. His hair was a greasy mess and, without Vince's midnight haircuts, it was growing unruly. His eyes were sunken and there were dark circles under them. Even better, he stunk. When was the last time he'd washed? He couldn't remember. It had been two months since Vince's death and Lilly's disappearance. Howard thought it felt more like two days.

There was another fight going on in the apartment below Lilly. She could hear them screaming through the floorboards. It was distracting and she wanted to go down there and tell them to shut up but she knew she'd be sorry if she did. She didn't live in the nicest neighborhood.

She was standing in her one bedroom apartment, trying to apply eyeliner and hold a tiny mirror at the same time. She kept smearing the eyeliner all over her eyelid. With a scream of frustration, she threw the eyeliner across the room. Oh good, now she was crying. That would help with the eyeliner catastrophe. She couldn't do anything right.

She curled up on the floor and cried. What was the point of putting on eyeliner anyway? She didn't have anywhere to go.

Five minutes later, someone was banging on her door. She was sure it was her landlord, demanding payment that she couldn't afford. She couldn't afford bread anymore, let alone rent. She waited, holding her breath and willing her sobs away. He left, stomping down the hallway. Lilly imagined him getting a baseball bat from his coat closet, knocking down her door, and beating her to death.

She realized she wasn't imagining. She was wishing.

Sometimes, he dreamt of her. He could smell her hair, hear her laugh, feel her hand in his. He awoke aching and frustrated with the cold bed. He didn't believe in God but he prayed every night. He prayed to Vince. He prayed that Vince would change her mind; force her to come back. But every morning, the bed was cold and the alcohol induced fog was lifted.

He'd force himself up and out of bed, change his clothes, and go downstairs to open the shop. No one ever came in. Now that word had spread of Vince's death, no one came. No one wanted to see Howard. They all wanted to see Vince.

Howard would sit behind the counter and have conversations with the empty room. Sometimes, he would pretend Vince was there and he'd write another excuse down in his book. The excuses he came up with were never as good and he found himself just writing the same one down every day now:

Vince is late today because he's dead.

Lilly had one friend in Los Angeles. His name was Alex. Alex lived in the building next door to Lilly's. Every day, Alex came over to Lilly's apartment and they ate peanut butter sandwiches together. Alex liked Lilly and every day he would learn something new about her and he'd find that he liked her even more.

Lilly liked Alex but, more often than not, she'd find herself pretending that he was Howard. Alex didn't look anything like Howard, but that didn't stop Lilly for trying her best to pretend she was in Dalston and Howard was there.

Alex was a pilot. He had explained to Lilly that he flew small planes for a charter. Sometimes he got to do international flights. He'd been all over – to exotic places like India, Thailand, and Australia.

Alex knocked on Lilly's door on a Wednesday morning. Normally, he came in the afternoons, but today, he'd explained, was a special day. He pushed past her and through the doorway, into her bedroom. He was packing her bags.

"What are you doing?" Lilly stood in the doorway, confused and still groggy from sleep.

Alex stopped and turned to her, "Well, you can't stay here, can you? You'd way overdue for rent and your landlord will kill you if you don't come up with something soon."

Lilly sighed, "So what? I don't have any money. I've got no where to go."

Alex zipped up her bag and thrust it towards her, "Yes you do. Remember that day when you told me about England? The look on your face…" He put his hands on her shoulders, "You belong there."

Lilly didn't like where this was going, "No, Alex. I can't go back. I – something really bad happened and I can't go back." The words were sticking in her throat. She hadn't told anyone about Vince. She didn't think she could survive telling it.

Alex smiled and wiped away her tears, "Sometimes, you have to face what scares you. Just to prove it isn't as scary as you thought."