Tony was definitely off schedule. According to his watch, he was supposed to be in bed three hours ago. Instead he was watching lousy infomercials and nursing another shot of Patrón; his fourth if he was inclined to be honest. Paige was supposed to be home from the club by now. She had insisted on going out alone again tonight to shake off a case of art block.

He sighed. He was such a shmuck. Paige had been doing this for weeks now, how was he supposed to keep acting like this didn't bother him? Even the boys had declared she was taking this whole "free spirited artist" thing a little too far. Well, at least Harry and Robin had. Actually Harry had declared her "a couple fries short of a Happy Meal" and told him "his horns were showing". Whatever that meant. Robin, ever the supposed scholar, had suggested she was "testing the waters of their relationship" as well as "appealing to his baser instincts and his possessive nature". When Tony had asked for that in layman's terms, i.e. "Speak English, you ass." , Robin had boiled it down to "She's doing this on purpose so you'll get upset and screw her in a position other than missionary, you absolute bore."

Wincing at said memory ensued. So he wasn't always as creative in bed as she wanted. Whatever. It got the job done, didn't it? "Creativity" was highly overrated anyway. Pouring a fifth shot, he blew a raspberry at the empty room. Lapsing into a comfortable position, he was about to spend another hour watching overly incompetent actors and D-list celebrities laud the merits of nonstick cookware and other random junk, when his phone vibrated. He whipped his phone out, expecting a text from Paige. Instead it was a message from Harry that said, "Look at this." Opening the attached video, he could make out a club at full capacity, the dance music coming in grainy and abrasive. Suddenly, the camera swung around to the club's bar, and more importantly, the woman lying on the bar. Paige. He'd know the vibrant pastels of her hair anywhere, even as they dipped off the bar and swirled onto the seat of the bar stools below. She was giggling maniacally as some random guy did Jello shots off her body. Tony saw red instantly. Who the fuck was this douche? How dare he come anywhere near Paige? Who the fuck wears red plaid to a club anyway? Dude looked like some sort of hipster lumberjack!

His irrational musings were broken as his video Paige yelled out to the crowd: "Who's next?" The crowd around her exploded in a fit of raucous cheers and then the video cut off. If Tony had been angry before, he was downright homicidal now. The couch began to creak as fabric disintegrated and springs started to rust. He leapt off the couch to keep it from degrading underneath him and dialed Paige's number. One ring, Two rings, thr-

"Toooony~" Paige's voice was cheerful and bubbly over the loud music of the club. "I thought you'd be in bed by now!"

"Paige…" Tony was busy trying to keep his tone as even as possible to keep from yelling. "I need you to come home…now."

"Oh, Tony. Don't be such a worrywart. I'll be home soon. I just met these cool guys, they were playing here tonight, and-"

"Did one of these guys happen to be doing shots off of you too, or was this after you let the entire club have a go?" he cut her off dryly.

"TONY!" Her screech made his ears ring. "I know you can be a total wet blanket, but don't bring my friends into this!"

"Friends? FRIENDS?! Paige, you just met these people! This is ridiculous, just come home and stop mucking around!"

"No! No, Tony I will NOT stop 'mucking around! I am an adult! I will muck around as much as I please! I will 'muck around' and I will 'goof off', and frankly after tonight I just might consider fucking around too, you absolute bore! So goodnight Tony, and don't wait up!" The call cut off abruptly.

Tony's rage had now reached apocalyptic levels. He had to steady himself for a minute before he started screaming incoherently, or worse had an aneurism.

"She…she would really consider cheating on me?" he asked the empty room. "Well…' A maniacal grin split his features as an idea formed. He grabbed for his jacket and his car keys and made for the door. "Someone's getting fucked over tonight, but it's not going to be me.."