The continuity of this story doesn't match the back story of Skisgaar and Toki's first meeting from "Anything You Want." I've always liked the idea that Skwisgaar and Toki have actually known each other for a long time and that Toki was brought in by Skwisgaar after Magnus left, rather than the band holding auditions for a new guitarist.

The streets were extra cold, Skwisgaar Skwigelf reflected, pulling his coat tightly around himself. Winter seemed to be much harsher in Norway than it was Sweden. This was the first winter that he wasn't home and even though he loved the freedom, the financial strain was felt quite heavily. He'd managed to join a band and secure enough gigs to keep a roof over his head and enough food to stave off starvation, but he had little luxury beyond his guitar. He'd sold everything, when he'd left Serveta's house, which had belonged to him and used the money to get to Lillehammer. He wasn't sure what he'd do here, besides languish away his best guitar playing years in obscurity. He paused briefly to light a cigarette, but the wind seemed to conspire against him as he brought a flame to life, it was quickly extinguished. Finally, he threw the cigarette to the ground and continued on his way.

Ideally, Skwisgaar wanted to go to America. No way he had enough money for that, and he thought he'd never raise it at this rate. He had to get out of his shitty band and find one that had the potential to get bigger. If they began to tour and raised money, maybe he'd eventually wind up somewhere in America. He despised Americans themselves, but the market for music was huge and it might mean he'd be able to do whatever he wanted. The Swede's tastes were minimal and elegant, but he did appreciate the finer things in life, like expensive alcohol, attractive clothing and enough money to live a life of complete leisure. Playing his guitar and fucking any woman he'd capture with his charm and looks sounded like a goddamn wonderful life.

Vegar, Agnostic Priest's lead singer had asked to meet him at some dive bar downtown for a drink. Skwisgaar had initially been resistant to the idea, but it had been a few days since he'd been laid and sitting in his apartment, playing the guitar, could only be entertaining for so long.

"Skwisgaar!" Vegar called, waving the blond over.

"Bud light," Skwisgaar muttered to the bartender who shot up an eyebrow. The novelty of American beer hadn't worn thin, despite routinely ordering them over the past year. The reactions of the bartenders was always amusing, too. Vegar and Skwisgaar sat in silence for a while, watching the small crowd mill around.

"I've been thinking a lot lately."

"What about?"

"I think the band is really not going anywhere. Jonas and Hilde just aren't brutal enough now that they're seeing each other." Skwisgaar combined a sneer and frown. Hilde had been a great fuck friend for a while.

"I agree. What are you going to do if we break up?"

"What if we started a new band?"

"I don't know…"

"Come on, we're both very talented. Maybe we can get more serious about finding a producer."

"It sounds like a lot of work." Skiwsgaar despised hard work.

"Fuckface Academy."

"Say again?"

"Fuckface Academy. That's the name. What do you think?"

"Do you think we can find anyone who plays heavy enough? I want a darker sound."

"We can go in that direction, sure."

"Let's find some people before we get rid of those two, okay?"

"Sure."

The conversation was more discussion of music and lyrics, and by the time they were both ready to call it a night, Skwisgaar found he didn't have the energy for sex. He departed the bar in a rather foul mood with his realization and made his way home. Rather, he would have if not for a young child smacking square into him.

"Hey!"

"I'm sorry!" the kid looked up at him with unsettlingly blue eyes. They were almost grey. Her face was scraped up pretty badly and her left eye was swollen shut.

"What happened to your face?" Skwisgaar asked out of disgust when he realized his shirt was now streaked with blood.

"I'm sorry- I… I was hit… I'm sorry!" The girl winced as if expecting the tall man to backhand her. She pushed past Skwisgaar and took off. Skwisgaar shrugged and reached for another cigarette. His wallet was gone.

"Get back here, you little fucker!" Skwisgaar easily followed the girl, his stride at least twice as long as hers. It was a matter of two minutes before he had her by the collar and was yanking her back towards him. "Give me back my fucking wallet," he growled, leaning closer. The girl began to cry. But, Skwisgaar was sure, it wasn't about the fact that he'd caught her. Maybe she thought he was going to hit her. "Give it back and I'll let you go."

"I'm sorry. I haven't eaten in four days… I know stealing is wrong… I'm so sorry," this kid sure was polite for being a common street thief. He handed the wallet back.

"Well, what the fuck are you doing out in the streets anyway? Where are your goddamned parents?"

"I can never go back…" the girl looked down and then Skwisgaar grabbed her chin and tilted her face upwards.

"They did this to you?"

"No… I fell trying to climb in the window of a brick building to get warm."

"You've slept outside the past four nights and didn't die?" It was mildly impressive, considering how cold it had been and the fact that this kid was wearing a t-shirt and shorts. The girl nodded.

"What's your name?"

"Toki Wartooth," Toki wasn't a girl's name. At least, Skwisgaar didn't think so. Of course, he didn't want to embarrass himself by revealing that he'd thought Toki was a girl.

"We should take you to an institution. At least there you'll get some food and be warm." It vaguely surprised Skwisgaar that he was wasting this much time on some homeless child. It was kind of sad that the boy was out here all alone, but he'd grown up in a terrible situation and turned out okay. He thought back to moments ago when the boy looked as though he'd been expecting to be struck and wondered how bad his home life was to cause him to run away to nothing.

"No! Please! They'll take me back there, and I can never go back to the punishment hole!"

Punishment hole? Whatever the hell that was, it couldn't be good. Skwisgaar realized he was still holding Toki's collar, but the boy didn't seem to be struggling to get free. He released him and stood back to full height, flipping his hair over his shoulder.

"Well, good luck, then." Skwisgaar turned and began toward his apartment. When he reached the main door he fumbled for a key, which he dropped. Stooping to pick it up, he realized Toki was standing behind him, shoulders slumped. "What do you want, Toki?"

"Can I please come home with you. Just tonight. It's very cold. I… I'll do whatever you want to pay for it…" Toki was very clearly trying to offer himself up as a viable bed partner, in the most awkward way possible, and the thought caused Skwisgaar to simultaneously blush and feel utter revulsion.

"Christ… is that what you've been doing? You didn't fall. Someone did that to your face. The past four nights… you couldn't find anyone to take you home?" Jesus, why was Skwisgaar asking that? Why did he care what had happened to this kid?!

"I… it hurt too bad… the last time… and…" Toki's voice shook and Skwisgaar could see tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He furrowed his eyebrows and sighed, knowing he'd regret this, and feeling dirty for no good reason.

"Okay. Come inside."

Toki slowly approached the Swede and walked past him and up the stairs. His body language suggested that he expected horrors to come soon. Skwisgaar opened his door and walked into the apartment, tossing his key on the end table. The boy stood in the center of his living room for a minute and then slowly took off his shirt, audibly whimpering as he stared at the floor.

"Jesus! What are you doing? Put your shirt back on!"

"I thought that… what am I—"

"You can stay here tonight, but tomorrow you need to find a more permanent place to stay, you understand?"

The boy looked surprised and then obviously relieved. When he turned to the side to put his shirt back on, Skwisgaar noticed a latticework of scars, and healing wounds across his back.

"Hold on," he crossed the room and pulled Toki's shirt up again. The boy went rigid but didn't resist. He touched one of the faded scars and then recoiled when the boy jumped. "Where did you get these?" he demanded. The boy didn't answer and he shook him. "Tell me where you got these!"