The festivities at the country club were in full swing. Everyone wanted a turn to shake hands with the new mayor. No one took notice of his eldest son seething darkly in the corner, snatching a glass of champagne from a passing tray and downing it in one gulp. It hardly had any effect. His siblings may innocently believe that Daddy Dearest was going to hold up to his promise of attending anger management sessions, but Miles could almost see his father's head swell with power with every passing minute. There was no way he would risk visiting any therapist now that his mayoral duties awaited him. If Miles was going to numb the pain, he would need something stronger. After staying long enough to meet a sufficient quota of family pictures for the paper, he slipped into his convertible and made a beeline towards home. There was a bottle of Scotch with his name on it.

Back at the mansion, Miles lost count of the number of shots he choked down. He was pleasantly buzzed, but it wasn't enough. He decided that he needed someone warm to engage in a mindless make out session with, and dug his phone out of his pocket. Scrolling to the "M" section with only one swipe, his thumb hovered over Tristan's name by reflex. What Miles really wanted was to be nestled in his protective arms, because that's where he always felt so happy and safe. But he managed to stop himself from making that decision. No, as much as he craved for his ex-boyfriend, he couldn't drag him down and reveal all of the ugly Hollingsworth family secrets. Wasn't that the reason why he let him go in the first place? Miles was trying to remember why was so dead set on punishing himself that way when he eyed the name just above.

Matlin. Maya Matlin. She knew his weaknesses. He didn't even have to feel that he needed to live up to a God among men status with her. For once the walls were crumbling down and now he was more vulnerable than ever before. What was there to be scared of now? Would this be enough for her to come back to him? She didn't seem to be opposed to his comment about how he wouldn't mind if she checked in on him. Only one way to find out.

/-/-/-/-/

Kanye was pumping in the background while Zig was fussing about with his hair, making sure that every strand was perfectly set in place. He bopped on over to the closet and selected the sleek black button-up that he wore to the Wild West dance, figuring that it would do the job to impress his hot date for tonight once he unpinned the white frill that was added by Imogen for the event. Tonight was important. It took some time but he finally managed to wear Zoë down over the phone with his entire arsenal of sweet nothings, and persuaded her to sneak out despite her being under house arrest to meet him for a night out in town.

Just as he grabbed the remote of his stereo to start lip syncing to a particularly complex verse, he spun around and found Maya standing in his doorway. She was clutching her phone in one hand and was biting her nails of the other. Never taking his eyes off of her, in one swift movement Zig muted the music, and focused his attention on the girl.

"You're all dressed up," she commented slowly.

"Yeah, I finally managed to wrangle a date with Zoë."

Maya hoped that Zig didn't notice the way she slightly flinched. But even if he did, she knew he wouldn't call her out on it.

"Before you meet her... could you do my a favour?"

"Anything."

"Check up on Miles for me at his place?"

"What?"

"He just called me and he sounds like he had too much to drink. H-he wants me to come over, but if I go, I know I'll just be leading him on."

Maya remembered very well the last time she witnessed Miles while he was under the influence of too much alcohol. It turned out that he was a needy drunk, and was quick to latch on the first warm body that he could get his hands on. She didn't even want to think about how far he and Zoë could have gone that night when they were both intoxicated, and she had absolutely no interest in taking a stroll down that path herself anytime soon. But deep down, she still cared for the boy. Thanks to therapy, her immediate instinct of acting now and thinking later when helping people had subsided. So she would not go. Yet, that didn't mean she would completely abandon Miles.

Zig heaved a heavy sigh. What was it with this girl? Though he admitted that he was doing a good enough job of moving on, he had to accept the fact that a part of him would always be under her spell.

"Sure, anything for a friend," he answered with a tap on her nose, causing her to break into a smile.

"Thanks Zig!" Maya cried out as she leaped into his arms and gave him a tight hug that he was quick to return while unconsciously breathing in the scent of her hair.

/-/-/-/-/

"Okay, let's get this over with," Zig mumbled to himself once he arrived at the Hollingsworth manor and rang the doorbell.

The door opened and a tipsy Miles who was swaying back and forth and completely ignored him in search of a blonde head of hair.

"Maya? Where are you? I-I need you, Maya! Maya?"

Zig grabbed the boy by his shoulders and looked him square in his glazed eyes.

"Listen, Young Money. Maya ain't here. But her orders were for you to quit with the drinking and go to bed. Now if you'll excuse me, there's a very pretty cheerleader waiting for me."

"Ya know what they're saying 'bout those cheerleaders," Miles drawled.

The hairs on the back of Zig's neck began to rise and his skin started to crawl as he narrowed his eyes at Miles.

"Those were just allegations. There's no proof that it was them."

"Sorry to break it to you, but my sister not only confirmed that it was the Power Cheer Squad, but also that your precious little Zoë was the maniacal mastermind behind the whole plan."

Zig's head was spinning. This didn't make any sense. He was sure that Zoë was a good person who wouldn't resort to such ugliness. There had to be a logical reason for this. Nothing was adding up.

"I think...I need a drink..." he said in a daze.

"Right this way, good sir!" Miles exclaimed, delighted to find himself in the company of a drinking partner.