[AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is probably the last time I'll make a go at this. If this doesn't go the right direction, then it's over. One more time: the writing style is derived from Stephen King's Carrie, and the synopsis is loosely based on the short-lived TV show Dirt. Each chapter is named for a song lyric, and the lyric is either mentioned by name or becomes a theme in one segment. If you've read this before - congratulations! Hello again! I do not own Girl Meets World, Dirt, Carrie, "Why Not Me" by Enrique Iglesias, any other references you may catch in this chapter, nor anything associated with such. Please read, review, and refrain from telling me what I can or cannot change. Happy reading! XOXO, Tay.]

Is that an overweight man walking his dog? Why's he not wearing a shirt? Is it that hot outside? *click* Man-Boob Mania!

Ooh, look at the blonde bombshell wheeling a baby stroller. The stroller is empty. I see no baby in there. *click* That's No Baby!

A has-been celebrity, who has tipped the scales recently, just walked out of the corner store, looking fat yet rather frail. Is that a honey bun in her hand? Two? Three? *click* Eating Herself to an Early Grave?

My name is Farkle Minkus. I'm a scientist. I'm also a photographer. I see the world through a different set of lenses. *click* #FarkleNation

I've been using my photography skills to capture the essence of life and society. Some of these photos have been published in the tabloid magazine Dirty Deeds. The staff loves my work. I've broken up numerous relationships because of my work. Nobody ever came to me to give me a what-for. They respect Farkle Minkus.

Guess who just got promoted to editor in chief? Yep. That's right. My best friend and soulmate since the first grade, Riley Amy Matthews. It's a heavy weight to carry, but if anyone can do it, Riley was the person for the job. Only one problem, though: she knows what she wants and won't settle for anything less. The only person above Riley's rank is the publisher, Brett Barricklow. Rumor has it that Dirty Deeds is Barricklow's last chance at any magazine-publishing job. If it will be, Riley's next in line should something happen, but let's not tempt that! Barricklow. Ugh. Him and his perv 'stache. He should just leave already... or at least get off my nerves.

I sat in Riley's new office, watching her pace back and forth in her black heels. I tried to focus on her words, but her outfit... oh, god, her outfit: a red button-down shirt tied over a white camisole tucked into a black pencil skirt. Her perfectly messy ballerina bun was just the cherry on top. Authority can be so gorgeous sometimes that it almost hurts. Man, I can't wait to get my hands all over her—

"Farkle? Farkle?!" she snapped her fingers in my awe-struck face.

"What? I'm sorry. What?" I reacted, natch.

"She's obviously hiding something."

"Who is?"

"Connie Haley. Her relationship with Dominic J. Dean is on the rocks, and I need photographic evidence of any signs of abuse. There's a 'NO TRESPASSING' sign on the property, so I can't go. That's why I'm hiring you, and Uncle Josh and Lucas will be your lookouts."

Ah, yes, her Uncle Josh. He's a good-looking guy, but I don't think he's my type. And Freak-Face? Do you want to see me get fucked in the ass with a cactus, Riley? I don't think so.

"When do you need me at Connie's house?" I asked.

"We're looking at the wee hours of the morning tonight. She'll be returning from a rave at around 2:00 am, and that's when you'll snap the photos if you see anything worthy of publishing. Have the photos developed and on my desk in a few days. I would say asap, but I respect your work schedule too much to do that to you, Farkle."

"Thank you, Riley. Do you need anything else from me?"

With a thoughtful look on her face, she dug into her purse and pulled out a taser. Why carry a taser around, Riles?

"Riley, what is that?" I asked with a scared and concerned look on my face.

"You're gonna need this if security gets in your way."

"What is it?"

"It's a stun-gun. It's got 300,000 volts," she placed the weapon into my hand.

Hesitating to accept it, I said, "No, Riley, you keep it." I returned the gun, but she wouldn't take it back. TAKE IT BACK.

"Oh, that's okay. I've got a spare."

Well, fuck you.

"Riley," Lucas walked in the office with a file folder in his hand. "Your 3:00 is here."

"Thanks, Lucas. Send him in," Riley said. Lucas threw the folder onto Riley's desk and disappeared from my view.

In walked a tall, tan, and handsome supermodel with a tall body more chiseled than Freak-Face over there. He had blond hair and eyes that can't decide if they're hazel or blue. This is Matt Truskin, a famous actor who is the Marilyn Monroe of this generation. Did anyone care if he could act? No, but why did his movies win the Cinematography Oscar three years in a row? He wasn't even kept in focus half the time!

"Uh, do you need me to leave, Riley?" I asked.

"No, no, Farkle, you stay for this," she answered.

"Um, I was hoping for this meeting to be just the two of us, Miss Matthews," Matt jumped in.

"No, Mr. Truskin, this is important. He's my best friend. He has an eidetic memory, meaning he will be my eyes and ears. He'll type out the transcript directly from memory later tonight as I have done for all my previous appointments. Ya with me?" Riley sassed.

"Yes."

Looks like someone's not happy to see me. Suck it, Matt Truskin.

"You know what we love here at Dirty Deeds? A good old-fashioned fucking," Riley surprised both me and Truskin.

"What are you saying?" he asked, not knowing what's going on.

I, on the other hand, have a strange feeling. I'm having a flashback...

Last year's Christmas party turned out to be one huge orgy. Riley and I were each other's "dates" to the party, but we agreed not to exercise PDA. Why? We weren't dating at the time. Anyway, Dirty Deeds held a Christmas party at the old editor-in-chief's apartment complex. Some actors from a movie that was filming a few blocks from said complex heard about a party and crashed it. Matt Truskin, hottie patottie who can't act nor react, had one too many drinks that night as did his steady girlfriend, the beautiful and talented (almost gave me a run for my money in Trivial Pursuit at a prior Fourth of July party) Evani Farrow.

...I witnessed her cheating on Matt Truskin. A look of "Riley, don't do this" painted my face; I could feel it. Damn you, eidetic memory!

"...homemade porn, Mr. Truskin. Know anything about it?" Riley questioned.

"No," he scoffs.

Riley turned on her TV to reveal a video, "So, tell me, who is that lady right there receiving a gift from a young brunette man in that frame?"

His eyes went wide. It's a screenshot of a brunette Evani Farrow sitting on a couch, naked. Her legs were spread out, yet her private area was covered by a man's head. This is a man who is not her boyfriend. Matt Truskin has blonde hair. The man who is performing cunnilingus on Farrow has soft curly brown hair, a little darker than Riley's. This is Matt Truskin's archenemy in the acting world: Wade Capra. Capra is Farrow's other man! Wait, what? Capra is Farrow's other man?

"That's Evani Farrow, my girlfriend. She and I were drunk that night. We couldn't find each other that night, so I texted her, told her I was going to get some rest, so I walked to my trailer across the street," Truskin observed.

"Huh," Riley observed the screen, surprised at Truskin's words. How do you remember being drunk? Nobody remembers.

"What's she doing, getting eaten out by Wade Capra?" he asked.

I paused the tape.

"I was just about to ask you. What's she doing, getting eaten out by Wade Capra?" Ooh, good counter, Riley.

Trying to formulate an answer, he stammers and can't come up with anything.

"Farkle, show him what's next," Riley interrupted Truskin's stammer.

I clicked the play button on the remote. More oral, more oral, boring, boring, blah, blah, Capra sits on the couch with his erection for everyone to squint and see. Capra puts on a pink condom. There's Evani Farrow, straddling his thighs. Is she going for the penetration? BOOM. There it is. Capra and Farrow are engaging in coitus. Yep. Straight up vanilla sex. Doggone it.

Truskin's face read shock. Shook is more like it. Matt Truskin's girlfriend banged Wade Capra! Now, what do we do with Truskin? Truskin knows something about our cover story. He's friends with Connie Haley, right?

Riley spoke up, "I'm calling this 'Fapra.'"

Fapra? Not bad. Not bad at all. Farkle really likes where this is going.

"I honestly don't want to leak this. It'll ruin your reputation, something Dirty Deeds takes pride in. But, in exchange for keeping this video a secret, I need information regarding one Connie Haley and her beau, Dominic J. Dean. The tape goes online in 24 hours if you don't say anything."

Is that a worse ultimatum than that time I kept pushing for Riley to tell Lucas she was still in love with him by the New Year, or I would? Riley Matthews wouldn't dare. If this is what she wants, then it's what she gets. She must've learned from the best.

"How could you do this to me? I've only ever wanted to be an actor," Truskin lamented.

"Uh-uh. You wanted to be famous. There's a fine line between being an actor and being famous," Riley corrected him. "Listen, Truskin. I worked my ass off for this promotion, and I wanna start hot. I wanna set the bar higher than Heaven, deeper than Hell, and further than Pluto. I need the truth about Dominic J. Dean and Connie Haley, and I know you've got it. Question is, is it worthy of Dirty Deeds? Or should I leak the tape now and have Evani Farrow and Wade Capra blackballed?"

Truskin thought long and hard about this dilemma. He had this angry look on his face as if he didn't have a choice. There was no bargaining. With a deep sigh, Truskin finally spoke.

"Dominic's being abused."

Huh?

Riley furrowed her eyebrows at the revelation, "Abused? How?"

"It's Connie. She's full of rage. Anything that doesn't go her way triggers her. Dominic has received the brunt of her abuse. It's not pretty. Dominic can't get out of the relationship unless it's mutual," Truskin said.

Riley and I both looked at each other like two go-getting best friends who have a lead in their mission. This is perfect! It's a hot story!

"This is a hot story. It's gold," Riley admitted to Truskin with a firm tone. She then turned to me, "Farkle, go get my story tonight with your camera. I'll have the house wired." Turning to Truskin, she tells him, "Truskin, don't let any of this out. You're a source now. You protect me. I protect you. It's a simple process that hadn't been understood when the old editor was in charge here. Matt Truskin, do we have a deal or no?"

"My name cannot be used," Truskin answered.

"That's the least I can do," Riley responded.

"Then you have yourself a deal."

"Wonderful. Have a nice day, Matt. Farkle, show Mr. Truskin the door, please."

I walked over to the door and opened it, "It's here, Matt," I said as I showed him.

Truskin walked out of the office, but I knew he wasn't happy.

I followed suit and left the office. I have pap photos to shoot, but it's still early. I needed to see someone first.

Maya Hunter, famous artist from the New York Metro, doesn't have it easy here. Her artwork is to die for. Seriously, I've got about ten of her pieces hanging on the walls of my penthouse. Why is her work great, but her life... isn't? I've been speaking with Maya recently, and she's stuck with man trouble. Nope, no triangle, but it's a love quadrilateral.

The blonde bombshell's current flame is Mr. Freak Face himself, Lucas Friar. I don't know what they see in each other, but they do love each other. The question is, are they in love with each other? Nobody knows. I see them more as a companionship than anything else, much like Isadora Smackle and I were once.

While Maya has her companionship with Lucas, she has an FWB on the side with "Boing" Josh Matthews. Their relationship's pages aren't even in the same book. Maya seeks a sexual release from Josh. Josh thinks he's in love with Maya, but I am already visualizing an unrequited love in that relationship. Maya must think he's not that good in bed. I mean, I would do him too, but we just went over this. He's not my type. Erm, did I mention I was het today? Whoops.

I face-timed Maya to see what she was up to now. Talking to her would pass the time before I head out to Connie Haley's property for the night. Maya, pick up. PICK UP!

"Farkle, what brings you to my screen?"

"I've been thinking about you, and I wanted to talk."

"What about?"

"Well, I know you're going to be alone tonight, and I just wanted to send a minor care package your way."

"Yes, Josh told me he was helping you catch someone tonight. Is that still on?"

"Riley's orders. She got the promotion, remember?"

"And she's assigning Boing to be your lookout? Real class, Riley."

"Lucas has been called to tag along, too."

"You've gotta be kidding me. That's why he canceled our date to the art show?"

"I told you, I'm sending you a minor care package. Pizza, ice cream, chocolate candies, wine, and your personal favorite..."

"You bought me another vibe?"

"Hah! Close!" I answered with a smirk on my face and showed her a folded magazine in my hand. "I bought you a copy of Playgirl. I thought you might need some extra stimuli for your night in."

"Thank you, Farkle. You can just drop the box off at my door."

"You're welcome, Maya."

There was a delay, and I thought to myself... Hey? She hasn't done anything with me yet. Why not me? Uh oh, don't drag yourself into this, Farkle. Don't ask. Don't ask. Don't say anything.

"You know, Maya, I still exist to you, right?"

GOD DAMN IT, FARKLE. Now, how are you going to tell everyone that you've had sex with Maya Penelope Hunter? I need an escape route.

"Of course, you do, Farkle. Why would you not?"

"Because I know how you see Lucas and Josh. Even Zay sometimes, but never me."

"Farkle, you and I both know that it would alter our friendship if we did anything sexual."

"No, it won't. Just two friends helping each other out."

"Do you know how wasted I would have to be to even want to fuck you, Minkus?"

Excuuuuuse me?! I don't have time for this. That's just low.

"I'm gonna go..." I proceeded to press END, but Maya's words stopped me from doing so.

"No, don't go, Farkle. Farkle? I was just kidding. Farkle, maybe you should come over with the care package. If Lucas and Josh aren't going to see me tonight, and Zay's out of town, then maybe I do need to see you. Just for a little bit?"

"No, it's okay, Maya." Is Maya that desperate for sex? Then again, what am I? Don't do this, Farkle.

"No, Farkle. I insist. Magazines and comfort food aren't going to cover my misery."

Is this what I get for wishful thinking?

"Let me think about it."

"See you, Farkle."

"Bye."

Finally, I press END. I guess I'm headed over to Maya's apartment. Oh god, I wonder what she's gonna do to me this time. Bring on the sweet smell of acrylic paints and Maya's sex. As if they aren't sweet enough!

I parked in Maya's driveway and turned my vehicle off. I opened the trunk to retrieve her big box of goodies for her night in, but she wanted more than just comfort food and naked male centerfolds. I carried the box to her door before I rang the doorbell. Damn girl opened the door and beat me to it.

(excerpt from Maya Hunter, Maya Hunter)

I opened the door to see a giant box adorned with Farkley arms. I can't see a face, but I know it's Farkle. I just know it. I took the box from him and set it down on my coffee table.

After the greeting, I pretty much lost all my inhibitions and memory. If I can remember correctly, we basically repeated the conversation we had over face-time. That, and I played a sexy instrumental from my iPhone. Our intimacy was a slow burn, but like he said, it was a friend helping a friend. I knew I wasn't going to be denied a release from a real human being. Food, toys, and pictures of men? Sometimes they don't cut it for me. I made sure Farkle protected himself. Because our sex life (or lack thereof) is a joke! But he's really good behind closed doors. He may be a nerd, but he knows how to please a woman.

(now back to Dirty Deeds)

Once I set the care package down on the coffee table, I took a seat on her sectional couch. She stood before me, pacing back and forth, searching for the right words to say.

Maya and I had the same conversation from our Face-Time, but this time we were in the same room, face to face. I know now why Maya doesn't want sex from me until now. She is that desperate. However, I do have some limits like using condoms. It's stupid, but I always carry condoms with me.

"I think it would affect our friendship if we let it."

"What? I don't understand?"

"Maya, our emotions can get in the way of certain things, and I know we've been best friends for about 20 years now. At our age, sex is just sex; that just requires effort and a goal. Making love is making love; emotion is added onto the sex. See what I'm saying here? I love you, but not like that, you know? I don't want to catch any feelings."

"I love you too, Farkle..." she paused. "But not like that, either. I just want a minor FWB relationship with you. Is that okay with you?" Good save, Maya.

Walking over to her sound system, the blonde took her phone out, and plugged it into the loudspeaker. The first sound out of the speakers? The opening notes to one of my favorite pieces, Piano Quartet in A Minor by Widor. What I want to know is how did she know?

She walked behind the couch and caressed my jawline from behind. The girl has soft hands. I like it!

She bent over the couch, so she could whisper in my ear, "I'll be right back." Then she fled to her bedroom. I'm eager to know why she went there. All I could think about was that touch. Damn, she's good.

Maya walked out wearing an oversized button-down dress shirt a la Risky Business. The hem of the shirt covered her bare ass perfectly, so it rode up with every step she took. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun with some loose strands poking out. Why am I starting to have doubts? Fuck, I can't do this.

She straddled my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. I gulped before the blonde planted a kiss on my lips. Our lips tangled, tossed, and turned until she tongued my bottom lip. Of course, I let her in. Then we engaged in a tongue war. I didn't care if I won or lost. The kissing was great there for a while, but my conscience kicked in. I really can't do this.

"Mmm, Maya, I can't do this," I blurt out, breaking the kiss while she kissed down my jawline and neck.

"What?" she replied as she stopped kissing and faced me.

I stammered, trying to form the perfect excuse to bail on sex with Maya.

"You're pushing. I would love to fuck you again, just not like this. I know I'm the one who pushed for this, but I don't think I can." Whew! I feel better.

Maya looked me dead in the eye, and with a deep voice, she firmly declared, "Farkle, you are going to fuck me, and you are going to like it."

"I can't! It doesn't feel right!" I fought back.

"Of course, it doesn't feel right, but it's a start."

I can't win with her. Since I didn't want to see or feel myself do this, I covered my eyes with my hand and hoped to be continuing foreplay with Maya. I'm so dead. I'm so dead.

Maya took my hand off my face and asked me, "Farkle, are you okay?"

I momentarily blanked.

"Farkle," she said, snapped me out of my daze, and took a breath before asking, "what do you want from me?"

Just the way her voice sounded from that question made my erection... you know, harden... I'm 27 fucking years old and still not good at words about sex. I do know that I'm starting to get my sex drive back. We know each other's limits. I need this release now, or I'm gonna have blue balls on the job tonight.

"Do it," I murmured, placing my hands on her hips.

The blonde smirked as I let her take the lead. She kissed my lips, my cheek, jaw, neck, and collarbone. Her hands reached for the hem of my shirt, but I wouldn't let her take it off. I like to at least keep my shirt on during sex because it keeps me warm. She settled for running her soft, small hands underneath the fabric. Her manicured fingernails left no signs of hard scratches on my back. She knew I liked light scratches as opposed to being dug into. Once her lips returned to mine, I let her have me. She kissed me all over my body and through my shirt until her face stopped down there. Again, I gulped before she slowly undid my jeans, pulled them down to my thighs along with my briefs, and helped free my hardening cock from its confines.

Seven and a half inches. That's how long my shaft is. I pray to God that Maya doesn't take it all into her mouth. No girl I've ever been with ended up swallowing swords for a living!

Maya kept ghosting her breath all over my shaft. I really wish she would get it over with. I gotta be somewhere! She planted baby kisses down my cock and nipped at the skin of my balls. Starting from the scrotum, she traced the vein upward with her pointed tongue and stopped at the slit atop the head. Unnfff, I let out as I lay my head back on the couch. Dear God, woman, enough with the teasing!

I felt Maya's lips envelop my manhood like a lollipop. She sucked at different speeds and pressures while bobbing up and down my shaft. God, she looked gorgeous doing it. She wrapped her hand around my cock and started pumping along with her sucking and bobbing. Her voice sent a vibration to my cock, and I just lost it. I squirmed as I held her by her hair. I was getting ready to blow, no pun intended.

"Dear god, Maya, I'm so close. I can't hold on much longer!"

She pulled off with a pop but kept on pumping me.

"You like that, Minkus? You gonna cum for me, baby?"

"Pleeeeease, Maya, I'm gonna cum."

Her mouth returned to the head of my cock, and for the next minute, my vision got blurry. I'm dead. Rest in peace, Farkle J. Minkus. You will be missed.

As I returned from my high, I can honestly say: I think I just came in Maya's mouth. Did I just hear her swallow?

She crawled back onto me and straddled my lap, just hovering over my cock, ready for me to enter. I placed my hand on her chest to stop her from going any further. I dug into the back pocket of my jeans for a Magnum, found it, tore open the wrapper, took out its contents, and correctly rolled it onto my cock. Okay, now I'm ready. Maya lowered herself and let me in. I watched her adjust to my hardness. She's tight, yet she's just right.

My hands wandered to Maya's hips, but she grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the back of the couch behind me, never letting go. Good god, woman, loosen your grip! When she rode me like the wind, I knew I was gone again. She attached her forehead to mine to make her climax easier. Maya was practically bouncing on my shaft.

The girl doesn't know when to quit! She ground her hips against mine, giving me a signal to thrust with her. I mean, I love this girl, but, just like Riley can be a bit of a handful in real life, Maya can be too much in a sexual encounter. That's when things started getting hot. She was getting close, and I was about to come again. Her walls began constricting around my shaft, milking every ounce of sperm that my body was willing to release. I'm gone again. I just came. When she also came, she buried her head in my neck, screaming and panting as she plateaued. Maya clung to me for dear life. She's hugging me, and naturally, I returned it.

"I feel better. Thank you," she said, continuing her thrusts slowly.

"You're welcome."

The blonde beauty eased off me and lowered herself to the floor. To the floor? What's on the floor that she needed?

Suddenly, I felt hands around my lower calves where my jeans had bunched up. Oh, no. We're not going another round, Maya. I gotta be somewhere, Maya. Damn, damn, damn it, Maya. She lifted my feet to take off my shoes, socks, and jeans. We're gonna be here for a while. I'm gonna need more Magnums.

She then joined me on the couch again and posed on all fours. Maya, what now? The blonde positioned her ass right by my face. Oh no, I'm not eating you out. I did what I thought was necessary: place chaste kisses all over her bubbly behind. I found my jeans and reached in the pocket for another condom. I always put on the condom. Otherwise, I'll hit rock bottom.

I got up on my knees, grabbed her hips, aligned my cock with her entrance, and penetrated her from behind. Damn, she loved it. And that was the initial thrust! I went ahead and pumped in and out of Maya's dripping wet... GOD DAMN IT, LET IT OUT, FARKLE. It was perfect. Maya was definitely aroused, but her face was faking it. Milk the fucking orgasm for what it's worth, why don't ya?

Only she wasn't faking it. Something tells me she's a bit... sex happy. Like a person is trigger-happy with a gun, Maya is sex happy with my tommy gun. Did I just say that? Ouch!

"Damn, Farkle, you're good at this," Maya complimented me.

"Thank... you..." I breathed out while trying not to climax. I was hoping we'd climax together and topple over.

"Farkle, take me there again. Please?"

She wants me to make her come. A climax means you've reached some sort of promised land. To me, the promised land is a bunch of bullshit in context. They're these floaters and flashing stars that collectively hinder your vision when your blood flow momentarily shies away from your brain. It's the greatest feeling ever, but they sure give this feeling an unusual name.

I sped up my thrusts and gave Maya everything I've got. Maya squealed as I kept pushing. I grabbed her hair with one hand and gripped her hip harder with the other. I want to take us there. It only took so much out of me because I don't love her like that. The stream spilled out of me and into the Magnum. Maya's walls tightened up as she came. I did not "die" this time around. I just felt ecstatic.

"Got any more Magnums?"

She snapped me out of my daze. God damn it. No. No. Fuck no. I can't go another round. My body can't take it anymore, Maya. I can only carry so many condoms at a time.

My eyes caught sign of the clock. It's almost one in the morning, and it takes a half-hour to drive and another half-hour for setup. THANK YOU, JESUS! I needed to meet Lucas and Josh at the Haley property. I'm gonna be late.

"Maya... Maya?" I tapped her on the shoulder, signaling her to get up.

"Huh? What?" she still must be coming down from her high.

"I have to go," I muttered under my breath.

"Oh."

I slowly pulled out, tied off the condom, and trashed it. Maya went to the bathroom for a washcloth. As I redressed my lower half, Maya returned.

"So, what do you think?" Maya asked.

"Shouldn't you do the FWB's thing with somebody else?" I replied.

"Well, you are somebody else," she said as she wrapped an arm around me. "Somebody else who comes to me when I'm not feeling the best. We didn't have to have sex, but I know you'd do anything for me, Farkle."

She hugged me and kissed my cheek in thanks.

"I'll see you at Riley's office later this week. Go get 'em, Farkle," she opened the door and let me leave.

Ooh, encouragement from the artist. How sweet of her. Now I know I'm getting the shot. I got in my car, turned on the ignition, and shifted into reverse. As I pull out of the driveway, I shift to drive. Just when my thoughts were cleared, something lingered in the back of my mind.

Whaddya mean, "We didn't have to have sex?"

I sat in the back seat of Josh's black Dodge Challenger while he and Lucas rode up front. This was a risky thing Riley wanted me to do, but this is what she wants. I am really eager to get the shot as proof that Dominic J. Dean, famed actor and comedian, could be a domestic violence victim. Scratch that; he is a domestic violence victim. What do I care what body a victim is in? Abuse is abuse.

"So, how's Maya doing? You said you stopped by her place. What's going on?" Josh had to ask.

"I stopped by to check on her. She's bitter that you're on assignment tonight. She said it was okay, though. No big deal," I answered.

"No big deal how? What did you and Maya plan to do, Josh?" Lucas asked.

"She was taking me to an art show in SoHo. Don't get so defensive, now, Tex," Josh replied.

"Defensive?! Don't get me started on defensive..."

This was getting good. Those two are fighting over Maya, and I'm just keeping my mouth shut because neither of them deserves to know of our tete-a-tete. How long until the Freak Face finds out that Boing is FWB's with Maya? How long till they realize that I'm FWB's with Maya?

"She told me the art show was on all weekend. We'll go Sunday," I suggested.

"Make sure Maya's cool with it," Lucas said.

We parked on the curb across the street, stopping in front of a house for sale. Lucky us. The Haley property was gated. Secured. Josh gave me a small piece of paper with a number on it. It was the passcode to the gates. I grabbed my bag of equipment and stepped out of the car.

"You good to go, Farkle-tography?" Josh asked.

I'm not amused. "Ha-ha, very funny. I'll let you know when I'm situated. Keep the speakers on at all times, so you can hear me, and I can hear you in my left earpiece. Riley had the house wired, so I can not only see, but hear with my right earpiece. If Con and Dom say anything, shut up."

"Farkle, don't worry. You're gonna get the shot. Go get set up!" Freak Face encouraged.

With my belongings in my black backpack, I crossed the street and faced the silver gates of Connie Haley's mansion. I looked to the right to see a keypad that said ENTER CODE in all capital letters. I had the writing on the paper memorized. What was so significant about this four-digit code? They're just random numbers. Are they not? I punched in the numbers, and the screen said APPROVED. The gates split open, so I can enter the property. There was a pathway to the front door, but my place on the property is in the tree to the left. It's a damn sycamore.

I finally get the gear set up and my camera is ready. Just focus on the bedroom window, and... boom. I'm ready to go. I turn on my hidden mic to communicate with the others. Old fashioned communication with code names.

"Squeak to Freak Face and Boing in the Challenger. Squeak to Freak Face and Boing in the Challenger, do you copy? Over."

"The Challenger to Squeak the Mouse, this is Freak Face speaking. Over," I heard in my right ear.

"Squeak to Freak. I'm all set up. If you look high enough, you'll see the camo in the second row of tree branches. Over."

"Boing to Squeak. We see you, Squeak. You're barely noticeable from a distance."

I saw a beautiful buxom brunette park her car outside the back garage. It's Crazy Connie. She exited her car and locked up. I snap a few shots just to see her normal behavior before she flips out on Dominic, like Truskin claimed.

"Squeak to Challenger, Connie just entered the property through the alley. Over," I whispered, keeping my volume low enough to avoid Connie.

"Boing to Squeak. Did you get some shots yet? We don't want you running out of film. Over."

"Relax, guys. I got a few shots of her getting out of her car. I'll let you know when I see something major. Over."

"Copy that. Over," said Josh.

Connie walked in the door and turned the lights on. As soon as Connie entered the kitchen to grab some medicine, Dominic was sitting on the couch in the living room. He slammed her with questions.

I heard some static and minor conversation between Lucas and Josh, so I shushed them to listen to Dominic and Connie.

"Constance Haley Cotton, where are you going? Where have you been?" Dominic asked, audible in my left ear.

"What are you saying, Dom?" Connie asked nervously.

"You were out partying again, weren't you?"

"Dom, stop."

"You need to stop going out with the girls. You know I'm important to you. Why make them a higher priority?"

I snapped a few pictures of Dominic's charade. He stood 6'1" and weighed 160 pounds, all muscle. And I do mean all muscle. He works out like two hours a day, six days a week. The concern he had for Miss Connie showed in his body language.

"Because you've been a bit of a pig lately."

He scoffed, "I'm a pig? You're the one who's been completely absurd. What? With your dirty behavior at the clubs. I'm surprised the paps ain't snapped a photo to show how promiscuous you can get. To tell you the truth, I'm sick of it. What you're doing is gross."

"So, what? Are you calling me a hypocrite?!"

"I'm just telling you that if you truly care about me, you'd do the right thing and get help. I want you to stop partying!"

"And what if I don't want to stop?"

"Then that's your decision. I'm sick and tired of it. Connie doesn't go out and party to get high. Connie is very headstrong, sometimes too headstrong. And, the Connie I know would give up anything for me. I don't want you partying anymore."

"Well then, fuck you!"

And out of nowhere, Connie slapped Dominic loud enough, and I snapped the play-by-play. These photos are too good to pass up once they get developed in my darkroom. I saw Connie leave the house with her pills and her keys.

"I'm leaving you, Dominic J. Dean!"

She planned to drive off to the club again to dirty dance until dawn. How do they live with themselves? Backspace it. How is Connie going to live with herself when, not if, this story gets published?

"Squeak to Challenger, I got the shot. Once Connie leaves the property, I'm packing up my belongings, so I can return to the car. Over," I whispered to avoid suspicion.

"Boing to Squeak, over and out."

I turned my mic off. I waited for Connie's car to pull out of her driveway. She left the same direction she came in. Thank goodness, she didn't take the front road. I would've been caught and sued. I packed everything into my backpack and wrapped myself with my camouflage blanket. It sure is chilly up in that tree. As I climbed down, I noticed that Lucas was standing below to catch me if I missed a step. It's only 3:00 AM, and no lights are on in the neighborhood. Everything went so smoothly. I cannot wait to show and tell Riley what I managed to capture.

Paparazzi has a name, and it's Farkle fucking Minkus.