AN: Lyrics by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein.
Kingsway Annual Youth Center presents
SUMMER FESTIVAL MASQUERADE
Live DJ, full dessert buffet, fantastic prizes, and more!
Must be costumed and/or masked to enter
August 4th at 9:00 PM
Rose ripped a flyer off the bulletin and studied it curiously. The other teens around her were chattering nonstop about how they'd do their hair and which boys they wanted to take them to the party while she stood in the center of them, utterly unnoticeable in her silence.
She folded the paper into a neat square and slid it securely beneath the belt of her jeans. Rose's first instinct was to dismiss the "damn stupid party" and all of its fripperies.
She was the daughter of a mercenary; the offspring of ruthlessness. She didn't have time or use for enjoying what other kids did.
Rose's prickly nature certainly didn't help when destiny had shoved her onto a tightrope that forced her to tether between her family and the Teen Titans. And wounds ran deep and far back; the demise of her half-brothers Grant and Joseph Wilson still burned in her father's mind and pressed down upon Rose's shoulders.
Thrust into a lifetime of conflicting choices, Rose was constantly faced with the demands to choose between loyalty to her father and the upbeat "superheroes". The easiest and quickest solution was a "don't give a crap" attitude that isolated Rose so that she wouldn't have to deal with other people or emotion such as weakness and sentiment-both frowned upon by her father.
By the time Rose returned to her father's house it was late afternoon and the sun's rays had draped veils of pink and orange across the horizon. He was standing in the training room with a sword in hand, slicing off limbs of the dummy with the precise calculations of a master of his craft. She stood in the doorway watching the tall white-bearded man move in perfectly choreographed steps.
He was a genius. A bloodthirsty relentless treacherous man but a genius all the same.
Slade stopped moving long enough for her to notice perspiration beading on his face and running into the white threads of his beard. He beckoned to her with a finger without taking his eyes off the target.
"Come here, Princess." His voice boomed low and commanding in the room.
Rose proceeded forward with trepidation.
"Choose a weapon."
Rose selected a katana from the rack. She passed the instrument from one hand to another until she had secured a comfortable grip on the handle. Her father slowly circled her, looking for a possible sign of uncertainty that might betray any emotions. But Rose had already put on her mask of disinterest.
She bowed first while her father barely nodded his head in her direction. They bent their knees in locked positions.
Father and daughter launched simultaneous attacks. The phenomenal reflexes that Rose had inherited urged her limbs to sprint forward viciously. Her blade aimed for his left shoulder but he blocked it, pushing the weapon away in a circular motion. Slade reacted rapidly and Rose was almost caught off guard from above. Almost.
She thrust the katana at a diagonal so that both swords clashed towards her forehead; barely an inch from her.
Strike, block, spin. Spin, strike, strike, blow.
"Sloppy," he chastised her, swinging the blade at her ankles. Rose jumped and simultaneously bringing her weapon down. He blocked her blow to his skull and pushed Rose back hard.
"You only see your opponent coming at you head on, Rose," Slade instructed as he bolted to his feet. "You must imagine the enemy enclosing you from all side if you want to defeat him."
Rose quickly recovered from her backwards stumble; breath tight in her throat from her father's chastising words.
The blade was coming from the right now. Rose's hair swirled around like a white cape. The swords clashed again noisily.
Clash!
She was knocked off her feet by a final ruthless thrust. The thin padding of the floor left little protection to her spine and the collision came on harsh when Rose fell flat on her back. The tip of her father's sword glimmered before her eyes.
"Remember, Rose. Enemy from all sides."
"Yes, Daddy," she answered quietly. The girl swiftly rose to her feet to avoid any further shame. She bowed slightly towards him, eyes kept downward to avoid starring into his penetrating gaze. Her cheeks had flushed bright pink but whether from the intense workout or from shame, Rose wasn't sure.
Slade's good eye was quickly transfixed on the white square attached to her belt. She covered it with a hand in protest but he merely took the paper from her as easily as removing a toy from a kitten. Slade unfolded the paper and studied it while Rose remained in uncomfortable silence.
"Don't tell me you actually considered attending to this event," he remarked in a cool voice dripping with disdain. Rose swallowed down her disappointment.
"Not anymore," she admitted humbly.
"Good." He crumbled up the ball into a tight wad. "No daughter of mine is going to make a spectacle of herself at a publicity stunt. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Daddy."
Despite the heat on her face, Rose felt a trickle of coldness run down her spine.
A-A-A
Location: Titans Tower, San Francisco
Bart Allen filled the mixing bowl with a mountain of fluffy popcorn. He happily popped a few kernels into his mouth while carrying the precious stash of snack food out of the Titans' kitchen and into the Entertainment Center.
To his disdain, Cassie and Mia were already on the sofa watching a movie.
"What's this?" he asked, chewing through a mouthful of popcorn.
"Cinderella," Cassie answered dreamily, head resting on her supported hands.
Bart bent over the couch and peered at the screen.
"Where's the squeaky singing mice and sisters with big noses?"
"This is a live version, Bart. It's not a cartoon."
Disgusted, Bart squinted closer to see the image of a man in silvery tights and a fury white collar singing a high airy song to a girl in a diamond-studded dress. Was he trying to woo her or endorse his favorite toothpaste?
Mia smiled at the image of the handsome raven-haired prince. Suddenly, she began to sing along with the lyrics on the television. "Ten minutes ago I saw you, I looked up when you came through the door..."
Cassie chimed in. "My head started reeling, you gave me the feeling the room had no ceiling or floor."
Bart looked on mortified as they finished together: " And I like it so well that for all I can tell I may never come down again!"
"Booooring," he whined, cramming more popcorn into his mouth. "Can't I watch the ball game, girls? Please? Puh-lease?" A spray of white fluffy bits flew over both blondes and they covered their heads quickly.
"Bart, no way. We've got the remote," Cassie smiled, waving it in his face.
"Oh, you mean this remote?" A red blur whizzed by Cassie and Bart was already standing on the other side of the room, remote control in hand.
"Hey, give it back, you little squirt!" Mia shouted.
Bart took off in a speeding dash out the door and down the hallway. Cassie flew across the carpeting in an attempt to catch him but the smaller boy had practically burned lines into the rug with his speed. The Fastest Boy Alive grinned wickedly as he tore up and down the Titans home within seconds.
Out of nowhere, a giant green pig landed on Bart's back, flattening him to the floor with a hug belly flop. "OW!" he yelled, poking the pig in the side. "Get off me, Gar! I'm suffocating."
"Tough luck," he chortled with a snort. Bart yanked on the pig's tail with one hand while the other kept beating the floor for mercy.
Tim and Conner had just come out of the gym, faces sticky with sweat and towels around their necks when Cassie had picked up Beast Boy and hurled him directly towards them.
"Look out!" Bart shouted.
Tim flattened himself to the floor but Conner wasn't so lucky.
"Huh?"
He and Beast Boy went smashing into the wall.
"Now look what you did!" Tim shouted. He eyed the dent in horror.
"Huh. Looks like modern art." Garfield Logan winced and rubbed his backside. "Oooh, I think I broke my tailbone," he moaned.
"All right, you asked for it." Tim twirled his towel and prepared to lash it like a whip in revenge. He was bolted down by Mia who was trying not to get creamed with two pillows by her ally.
"Fight! Fight!"
Cassie nearly screamed with laughter even though she wound up with a mouthful of feathers. Both girls fell down in heap. Garfield use one of the pillows to sat Tim over the head. Conner had gotten up and wrapped an arm around Bart's neck before grinding his knuckles into the boy's scalp. Bart scrambled his feet so they pounded terribly fast until the Boy of Steel was forced to let go.
"AHEM!"
The teenagers all stopped tickling, shoving, pulling, punching, and kicking each other with good natured humor long enough to see Nightwing standing in front of them. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was tapping his arm with one index finger, his features hardened with faint disapproval.
"Meh," Beast Boy's voice came out high and squeaky. "What's up, Dick?"
"I was going to offer to take everyone to a masquerade party tonight," he announced, unfolding a flyer for everyone to see. "But if you rugrats would rather stay at home tearing each other to pieces instead then go ahead."
Everyone flew into a frenzy.
"Oh boy, a party!"
"Really? Can we go?"
"Duh, that's why its there."
"Who's the DJ? They'd better have 'Smash' Steeljay."
At Nightwing's order, they got off each other and began to plan for an exciting evening.
"Maybe the three of us can go as something," Bart suggested to Tim and Connor.
"I wear a mask enough times in one week," Tim insisted with arms out in protest. "No way are we adding in any more tights or disguises to the wardrobe."
"And I'm not going as a three-headed monster either."
"How about the Three Stooges?" Beast Boy suggested.
"Or Three Blind Mice?" Mia offered.
Conner punched a fist into his hand. "No, we've got to do something cool, something impressive."
"I'll run down to the fabric shop and get stuff," Bart offered.
"No wait, time out," Cassie said, making a gesture with her hands. "Are you three going as mice or not?"
"No. A tri-flavored chocolate bar I can do but I am not dressing up as a rodent," Tim insisted.
"Yeah, so what? I'm chocolate, Bart's vanilla, and you're strawberry?"
"Mmmm, strawberry-flavored Boy Wonder."
"No, seriously. What should I go as?"
"How about the World's Largest Talking Booger?"
"GAR!"
A-A-A
Kodoku yori mo motto sabishii mono wa
Sono kodoku ni kizukanai koto
"A thing that's even sadder than loneliness
Is not realizing that loneliness"
-Takayama Miyuki
Rose lay on her bed with fingers locked behind her head. She frowned at the ceiling.
Dinner had been a silent and reserved meal with her father. She did not dare asking him to reconsider his decision so Rose kept her hands folded in her lap to prevent stabbing the fish with her butter knife.
If Slade was still in a chastising mood then he did an excellent job concealing it. He spent the meal describing to her a valuable 16th century Dutch painting that was being offered by a potential seller. Then he drank a glass of wine and retired to his office where he would spend the next twelve hours bent over paperwork. Slade had a new assignment to carry out in Tunisia and Rose was ordered not to disturb him. He'd leave tomorrow.
If he had only left today and then she wouldn't feel so pissed off about the flyer. It was just a stupid kid's part, right? She was sure it would be annoying and loud…and a refreshing change of pace.
Everybody else in town was blissfully getting ready without a care in the world while she was trapped under her father's watchful eye and the ghosts of two deceased stepbrothers. Damn them all. Damn them all to hell and back.
And damn her father for his work.
"They're not killings," he had once told her. "They're business contracts."
The world was overrun with greedy gropers and foppish fools who squandered their time, money, and lives. Deathstroke the Terminator was contacted to remove them in order to make room for the next generation of kings and emperors. His targets would not be missed on the world stage and he was compensated well by his clients. Conscience and consequence were irrelevant in his line of work; you did your job, get paid, and never look back.
Once she dared to question his actions and Slade's response still rung in her ears. "If you're damned to hell for someone else then heaven's not worth being in either."
Maybe this had made sense in another time and place but now it was utterly outdated for Rose. She still had the tingling sensation in her muscles that was making her antsy. It dared Rose to look beyond her usual duties, urging her to do something silly and pointless and damnit, fun for once!
She swung her foot back and forth impatiently. It was 8:40 already. Her father was two stories below her and absorbed in his work. He could easily suspect that she was up to something...or chose to ignore her. The curtains danced teasingly in the summer breeze, nagging at Rose with a creeping suspicion that had been growing stronger all evening until she couldn't ignore it anymore.
Are you going to that party or not?
Rose lifted up the latch and climbed out the window.
A-A-A
The long red cloak swirled to the floor while Mia turned around in front of the mirror, smoothing out any last minute wrinkles. "How do I look?" she asked Bart, crimson hood over her blonde curls.
He looked up from fumbling with the brass buttons on his shirt. "What are you supposed to be?"
"Little Red Riding Hood."
"Hold still," Cassie told Conner. She took a pin out of her mouth and fastened it into the collar of his vest while he squirmed in place.
"Did guys really wear tights in those days?"
"Yeah, and they did it too in musicals."
Tim saw Cassie and Mia get that twinkle in their eyes again. He groaned and covered his ears but they were already singing,"Do you love her because she's wonderful or is she wonderful because you love her..."
Bart fell quiet for a moment. There was indeed, a girl he thought was quite wonderful but there were always...complications.
Dick Grayson had warned the next generation of youthful heroes and heroines about Slade Wilson. Vengeance coursed through his veins and it had seeped into his family, poisoning their lives and turning them against each other and away from anyone who tried to help them. Burying the hatchet for a short while, nonetheless, could not change Rose. Sooner or later she would inherit her father's ruthlessness and kill anything that stood in her way without regret or compassion.
Nightwing saw the situation clearly. Good or bad, to each his own.
Bart only wished he saw it half as clear. After all, he had cool friends and a great family. Rose had a monster for a father and Bart hated to think if she'd turn out just as frosty as him.
"Earth to Bart!" Tim gave his friend a poke in the ribs and then tilted his hat hat a jaunty angle on his head.
Conner still looked concerned. "You sure we don't look like chimpanzees in panty hose?"
"Positive," Dick assured him, stepping forward. The Titans nearly glared at his nice but oh-so-boring tuxedo better suited for charity dinner than doing the Chicken Dance and Bunny Hop on the dance floor.
"You'll need a chaperone," he explained. "Ready?"
Tim brandished his plastic sword triumphantly. "Tally-hoo! Forward, brave comrades!"
"Never a night off, Tim?" Dick chuckled in response.
A-A-A
The curtains in the vintage store were a tacky shade of green and felt like sandpaper. They were so flimsy that Rose swore the pimple-faced boy passing as a salesman could see her right through them.
Two of the latest rejects lay on a chair: a loud hot pink number and a frilled brown skirt. Nothing looked halfway decent for a daring venture and Rose was running out of options. Pizza Face yanked off his headphones long enough to slide a large box beneath the curtain towards her. She removed the lid of the dusty box and peeked inside.
"Is this really what it's supposed to look like?" she asked skeptically.
"Dunno," he shrugged on the other side. "Found it in the wardrobe stash from a college play of A Midsummer Night's Dream."
Rose turned over a sheet of tissue paper and lifted out the garment. There were the gossamer wings, white and dainty and glistening. Maybe you needed them to fly to heaven.
"Jacket," he said aloud.
Rose dropped the box lid. "Huh?"
"You can put a jacket over it t'hide the wings. Unless you wanna look like the tooth fairy."
Her watch read 9:20 PM. Either wear the damn costume or go back and face her father.
Rose pulled her green shirt up over her head and arms and stuffed it into her backpack. She gathered up the rustling blue material in her arms and slowly lifted it over her hair and down her shoulders to her waist and the rest of her body, slid the dress down slowly so as not to tear it. The skirt's hem reached down to her ankles and was cut irregularly to resemble flower petals.
There were only two pairs of shoes to choose from. One had dangerously high heels with the color and texture of a poisonous snake. The other was a pair of light blue sandals with silver straps and embroidered with sapphire sequins. Rose checked the inside label. It was one size too large for her but she didn't want to puke all over the reptile pumps.
Rose yanked off her thick sweat socks and shoved them into her sneakers. She slipped her bare feet into the sandals, astonished at how deliciously cool they felt against her skin. Her toes wriggled with delight at the newfound freedom.
"Do you have any bobby pins?" she called to the salesboy over the curtain.
A cheap tin container was tossed over the curtains. Rose checked the contents.
"You have got to be kidding me."
"It's that or the butterfly ones, lady." She swore he was laughing at her own expense.
Grabbing a handful of hair, Rose pushed most of the silvery mane off her neck and twisted it into a loose bun before sticking in the flower-silk pins. She pushed the extra stands of hair behind both ears and was finished.
It had all taken less than fifteen minutes to put everything together.
There was no mirror in the "changing room" so she pushed back the scratchy curtains and took a step forward, facing Pizza Face with her hands on her hips.
"Well?" she asked, scanning his face for an answer.
A wad of sour grape gum rolled out of his open mouth and onto the floor. He whistled softly.
Approved.
Rose put whatever money she had on the counter, picked up the skirts of the dress, and marched out of the store like a martyr going to the stake.
A-A-A
The party was already in full swing by the time Rose arrived. Kids dressed up as pirates, Hippies, elves, and more were dancing, if not stomping, to the music that was far too loud but at least had a steady rhythm. She shuffled in through the side door and carefully made her way through the crowd. A few people glanced in her direction but went back to being preoccupied with their own dance partners. She only prayed that the flimsy dress wouldn't tear off in the jostle of the crowd.
Was that Grayson over there? Rose squinted to see better. That's him alright.
His arm was around the waist of his longtime lover, Kory. A set of cat-ears headbands rested atop her flaming red hair. Her eyes shined with ethereal green light, far brighter than the lights flickering overhead. Quite a few guys were ogling her while girls swooned over Grayson, irresistible in his tuxedo, but Dick and Kory only had eyes for each other.
And if Dick's here then the pinheads must be nearby too, she concluded. Rose made her way to the second floor where the lights had been dimmed and the music was much softer and slower. A dozen or so couples were shifting in each others arms across the dance floor beneath a disco ball.
Tacky, but effective.
"Rose?"
She stiffened at the sound of her name. A lanky boy had just come into her vision and was looking at Rose as if she was a unicorn.
"Bart?" she stammered, too surprised to snap at him.
Her eyes swept over his costume. He was dressed in a purple velvet vest over an oversized silk white shirt. A long black cape was secured at his throat with a brooch. Bottle-green pants, knee-high boots, and a three-cornered hat piled ridiculously high with feather completed Bart's attire.
"What the hell are you supposed to be?" Rose demanded.
"One of the Three Musketeers?" he suggested . Bart took off the hat and turned it over in his hands. "What do you think?"
Rose silently pursed up her lips in what was an agonizingly long five seconds for Bart. Finally she answered, "Your moustache is on crooked."
He quickly rubbed at the little hairpiece that was drooping from his upper lip. Bart quickly peeled it off and shoved it into his pocket.
Rose scrutinized the room. "Where are your friends?"
"Tim's translating Japanese lyrics to fangirls Conner is probably dancing with Cassie,"
"Oh."
The sound of their breathing was almost deafening in contrast to the calmness of the room. He wanted to yell out "What the heck are you doing here!?" but not at the risk of having them both kicked out of the dance room. Then she'd definitely never speak to him again.
It was Bart's turn to feel uncomfortable. "Does, um, anybody know that you're here?"
"No."
He ran a hand through his shaggy hair. As long as she was here, he might as well try jumping off a cliff or the next best thing. Bart cleared his throat abruptly to get her attention.
"S'okayifyouwannadancewithme?" he mumbled out.
Blue eyes starred piercingly at him. "What?"
Bart crossed his fingers behind his back. "Dance. With me. Okay?"
This time the pause before she spoke felt like infinity to him. To his amazement, Rose finally nodded in acceptance. "Fine. But keep your hands in the upper hemisphere," she warned.
Bart nodded. He gingerly placed his hands on her hips.
"Too tight?"
"No, its fine."
They began to move their feet apprehensively in time to the guitar music from the bandstand. A million words wanted to pop out of their mouths but silence was safer. Neither Rose or Bart knew the other was praying they wouldn't screw up the evening by saying something stupid.
Bart thought she looked stunning. Her hair, usually worn down, was now swept back revealing pale bare shoulders. The color of the dress brought out the rich blue in her eyes and the thick darkness of her eyelashes. She wasn't wearing any jewelry, not even a ring, but secretly Bart thought those cute little rose pins in her hair went perfectly with everything.
"Wow. Y-you look…nice," he stuttered. "Like Cinderella, only better."
The compliment sent strange ripples into her stomach. A soft pink glow unexpectedly blossomed in her cheeks. "Thanks. I always liked Cinderella."
"Really? Y'know the girls have been ranting about it all week. I mean it's an okay story and all," Bart blurted out. "'Cuz everything ends up happily ever after."
Rose suddenly stopped moving. Her arms, which had been resting comfortably on his shoulders, now lifted themselves up and away.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.
Bart's hands waved in her face. "Nothing! I just, I said what I was thinking! Forget it!"
For a moment, he expected her to turn on heel and walk out on him. Much to his bewilderment, she nodded and placed her arms back in their former position. A new song had come on, something sweet and calm, and it materialized in the air and twisted around them. They continued to sway softly for a few minutes quietly, lost in their thoughts, and silently relieved and enjoying themselves more than they dared to let on.
"I'm tired," Rose suddenly spoke up.
"Do you want me to take you home?" he offered.
"No, not like that." She drew out a breath and shoved a lock of hair behind her ear.
"I mean, I'm tired of my life." Rose felt the nagging sensation of an obstacle hardening in her throat and she forced it back down. "I'm tired of feeling like I can't trust anyone and it's just me out there in the world."
"Rose…" A warm hand had seized her own.
Bart was stunned at how cool her fingers were to the touch. She didn't shake off his grip, at least not yet. Strong words were pushing up out of his conscience, just begging to be spoken and listened to. Words that he had been waiting a long time to say.
Bart gulped weakly and prayed that his heart wouldn't leap out of his chest.
"I know I've kind of bugged you at times and you've got a lot of issues to work out so I don't blame you for that. I mean, I know you had it tough with your parents and being moved around a lot," he said quickly.
He paused for air and went on.
"But I want to believe that deep down inside you're a good person and not messed up just 'cuz people say things they shouldn't. I know I'm kindofa mess at times and a goofball but...I, I want to make you happy if you'll give me a chance."
This was all mumbled out so fast that it came like a buzz from his lips. He breathed deeply and attempted to speak again, slower this time so that she could hear him properly.
"I want to make you happy," he repeated aloud.
Bart braced himself in case Rose tried to kick him in the nuts.
Instead, she leaned into him and ever-so-gently, rested her head against his shoulder. Her body still rocked against his in time to the music. Woah, he had no idea she felt so warm when she was this close to him. Her silken hair softly brushed against his chin and he could feel his heart banging loudly in his chest.
"You did," she whispered faintly. "Thanks."
When she finally withdrew her arms from him, he noticed a glimmer of something out of the corner of her eye. But Rose quickly rubbed it away with the back of her hand. Her lips pulled back in what looked like an uncertain but nevertheless, genuine smile. A bubble of laughter came out of Bart's throat and nearly turned into a gurgle. That caused Rose to instantly deepen her expression. No doubt about it-she was grinning at him! A if this night couldn't get any wilder.
"Thank you God Almighty and X'hal and Azar and whoever else is operating the planet right now!" he thought happily. "Thank you one million times over!"
Arms wrapped around each other in a secure embrace as they danced slowly, dissolving into the crowds of other people gliding around them. The darkness of the room safely hid them from anything that could shatter the peaceful evening. Just for half an hour, just for some band music and a disco ball, Rose could be free. Calm. Happy.
No fairy godmother necessary, she concluded.
A-A-A
"I know you're awake."
Slade pushed the door wider open and stepped into the bedroom. Rose turned over under the covers knowing that her imitation of slumber could not fool her father. She had just barely snuck back in through her window, shed her clothes, and climbed into bed when she heard ominous footsteps coming upstairs.
Slade stood before her bed, his body a massive black silhouette against the yellow lighting of the hallway. She reluctantly propping herself up on her elbows and starred at him.
"You went out to that party tonight, didn't you?"
She bit her lower lip as an answer. He said nothing. He didn't even scowl. Slade averted his attention down to something shiny that had been shoved haphazardly halfway under the skirt of her bed.
He bent over, picked it up, and studied it. Just a pretty shoe, that's all.
Such a delicate thing, he mused to himself. Adeline might have worn shoes like this one. Lillian too.
It had been a very long time since he had focused on whimsical things; random objects that resonated in his memories that had been locked deep inside of a bottomless tormented soul.
"Hn."
He placed the shoe carefully on her dresser. The springs of her mattress creaked when he took a seat at the edge of her bed and gazed at her. Rose's hands curled into the fabric of her comforter when his lone dark blue eye focused on her.
"Daddy, are you still going to Tunisia tomorrow?" she asked softly.
"It is tomorrow," he answered.
Rose noticed the brass hands on her wall clock indicated it was nearly four in the morning.
"Oh."
He shook his head in disapproval but said nothing. A massive rough hand come to the side of her face and cupped her cheek carefully. He bent closer to his daughter and gently kissed her on the forehead. His calloused thumb brushed over her forehead smoothing away a few strands of hair.
"Get some sleep, Rose. It's late."
She wasn't tired but she did comply with his order and lay back on the pillows, silvery drapes of hair spread across them like a spring shower. Slade pulled the covers up to her chin just before rising from the bed. He turned off the lights and laid a hand on the doorknob.
"Good night, Daddy," Rose murmured.
"Good night, Princess. Sleep well."
A-A-A
A-A-A
The inhabitants of Titans Tower were also dead beat for whatever was left of the evening. Endless routines of the Chicken Dance, hula hoop contests, and several trips to the ice cream sundae bar didn't help the teens when they all came home with headaches and stomachaches. But everyone was clearly happy that he or she had participated and went to bed right away. Almost everyone.
Roy Harper had crashed for the night and was snoring away on the couch when a streak of red whizzed past him. He woke up with a snort.
"Woah, woah, hold your horses," he mumbled, rubbing his sleepy eyes. He sat up on the sofa just in time to notice the blur circling him.
SCREEECH-VOOOM!
Bart skidded to a halt, clouds of dust materializing at his feet. A paper bag was clutched to his chest and he was wide awake from his quick cross-country trip. The teen finally noticed their present guest and waved at Roy.
"Hi."
Roy starred at the fractured digits of the clock above Bart's head. "Where have you been? For Christ's sake, its 4:30 AM!" he groaned aloud.
"It's 8:30 in Philadelphia," he explained to Roy. The older teen blinked groggily.
"So?"
"So there's a music store that opens up early every day at seven and I popped over to get these." Bart waved a stack of floppy books in the air. Roy squinted to read the titles.
"Sheet music for South Pacific? Oklahoma's Classic Songs?" He scratched his scruffy red beard. "Who are you and what have you done with Bart Allen?"
"I'm going to teach myself to play this stuff," he announced.
"Why?"
Bart sat down at the electric keyboard and began flipping through the music books. A minute later, he tossed them aside and let his fingers fly over the keyboard. he began to sing, "Are you making believe you see in her a girl to perfect to be really true?"
Roy moaned aloud and fell back onto the couch with a flop. "I knew I should've stayed in Star City this weekend," he declared with a pillow mashed against his face.
Several lights clicked on in the hallways and voices started to drift around the Tower.
"Tell me I'm still asleep."
"What's he been drinking?"
"Must be allergies."
"Don't make me break your neck, Allen."
"Do you love her because she's wonderful or is she wonderful because you love her?"
"You gotta admit, he's good."
"Gmmmmph!"
"This is all your fault."
"What?!"
"Are you the sweet invention of a lover's dream or are you really as wonderful..."
"Geez, what time is it?"
"Somebody turn the damn thing off."
"We oughta call up Dick and tell him-"
"Bart, for the love of God…"
"...as you seem..."
"GO TO SLEEP!"
END