Marianne sighed dreamily as she watched Roland sing. Brutus' was dark, the spotlights on the stage highlighting the way his hair shone. While she realized he had probably made a conscious effort to place himself so that the light would hit just so, he was so good-looking that it didn't really matter. And the way he kept glancing over and winking at her as he sang…it was enough to make any girl's heart flutter.

She was still mildly amazed that, out of all the girls in Eerie, she was the one dating Roland. She was perfectly aware that she was nothing special, having been told repeatedly in her life that she was…different. Her hair was shorter than most, and she cared more about being comfortable than being fashionable. She was more at home in pants than a skirt, and preferred darker colours for her wardrobe and make-up. She loved to read – classics and adventure stories, rather than romances and magazines. When she was little she had made her sister act out stories with her. Dawn was always the damsel in distress, but Marianne was more interested in being the knight or, even better, the dragon.

Wow, she missed Dawn.

When she started dating Roland, she made an effort to tone down some of her eccentricities. She tried to be more fashionable for his sake, since she knew it was almost physically painful for him to be associated with anything less than perfection. She worked hard to be more of a lady and less of a tomboy, although there were days when she borrowed her dad's truck and drove out of town until she hit forest, where she would climb trees and read books and generally be as unladylike as possible. This usually happened when she'd made an attempt to voice an opinion that contradicted Roland's. He was dreamy, but even Marianne had to admit that there were times when he could be vain and somewhat pompous. If she were honest, it made her question if he loved her as much as she loved him. For that matter, it made her question how much she actually loved him.

But when he smiled at her as if she was the only girl in the room, she was able to push all of her doubts to the back of her mind and simply bask in the glory that was Roland. Sure, he had his faults, but so did she. Nobody was perfect.

The song finished, and there was polite applause. The patrons stirred restlessly as an airplane flew overhead, and she reflected that a restaurant by the airport probably wasn't the best venue for a band, especially one that played mostly ballads. In fact, she was pretty sure she saw Bog stifle a yawn. But then, ballads couldn't be all that interesting for the drummer.

'Table nineteen, your pizza's ready,' Sunny deadpanned. Bog followed up with a rimshot, but their antics were met with stony silence.

She had to admit, she was ready for something a little more up-tempo. The audience seemed to agree, because a kid in the back started yelling for them to play That Thing You Do. Roland looked slightly insulted, but the rest of the band looked relieved, and Bog launched into the intro almost without waiting for anyone's approval.

She was sure Bog, like her and Roland, had his faults, but a lack of self-confidence wasn't among them. At least, not when it came to music. The rest of the time, as far as she could tell, he seemed almost shy, and as self-effacing as a ridiculously tall Scot who dressed like a beatnik could be in Eerie. Which really wasn't all that much. He did have a great ear for music, though. And a surprising sense of humour, which you couldn't tell by looking at him. Especially since he appeared as though his face would crack if he smiled. He was grinning now as he rocked out on the drums, bobbing his head to the music. He really had a rather nice smile, kind of toothy, but it lit up those incredible blue eyes of his…

With a start, Marianne realized she'd been staring at Bog for almost the entire song. Guiltily she turned her attention back to Roland, where it belonged. She wasn't interested in him, she assured herself. He had a girlfriend, and of course she had Roland. Although Bog's girlfriend - what was her name? That's right, Tina. Tina didn't really seem all that into Bog. They were an odd pair. Tina was quite pretty, with fluffy blonde hair and a rather formal air about her, while Bog seemed to be perpetually rumpled and awkward anywhere but behind a drum set. And while he was actually good looking in his own way, he wasn't as obviously handsome as, say, Roland. Although to be fair, no one was as handsome as Roland.

She grinned, remembering the look on Bog's face when Tina called him Angus. There was a story there, she was sure of it. Although how a person went from Angus to Bog was a mystery, one she intended to solve, one of these days.

It suited him, though.

The restaurant erupted in cheers and applause at the end of the song. Bog and Sunny ate it up, grinning and waving at the crowd. Thang looked like he wasn't quite sure what he was doing there, and was half afraid that the mob would turn violent and beat him to death with the complementary breadsticks. Roland looked disgruntled that his ballads didn't receive the same praise as what was rapidly becoming their signature song.

When the band took a break, she made her way to the ladies. She made a show of touching up her lipstick in the mirror, but mostly she wanted to hear what the girls were saying about the band. Each of the boys seemed to have a following, even Thang. Most of the girls preferred Roland, though. But really, how could they not? She laughed to herself, listening to them swoon over his eyes and his hair, and especially the way he twirled that one curl around his finger.

Her amusement soured when one girl spoke up.

'Roland is sooo dreamy! He winked at me at the end of their last set.'

Marianne's hand tightened around her lipstick. The girl sounded smug and obnoxious, not to mention confused and possibly deranged. She couldn't believe the riffraff they let into decent establishments these days.

'Shut up, Chrissy! There's no way he could see you all the way across the room.'

Now there was a girl with sense!

'I know what I'm talking about, Maxine! He even came up to me afterward and bought me a drink. He's going to write a song about me!'

She was about ready to jump up and slug the little twit. How dare she say such things about Roland!

'If that's true, you can have him. I heard he has a girlfriend, and if that's the way he acts when she's not around, well, she should dump him.'

She was starting to feel sick inside. It couldn't be true. Chrissy was just a groupie with delusions of grandeur. Roland would never do that!

Another girl inserted herself into the conversation. 'Personally, I don't know what's so great about Roland. He's too, I dunno, sleeked.'

'"Sleeked" is not a word, Leticia.'

'Is too. It means he knows people are looking at him, and he knows he looks good. He's too slick and artificial for my taste.'

Chrissy sneered. 'I suppose you like Sunny.'

'Actually, I like Bog.'

'The drummer?' Maxine looked shocked.

'Ew! He's like a giant cockroach!'

Aaand Marianne was ready to slug Chrissy again.

'So he's not as obvious as Roland. I think he's actually better looking, in a rugged kind of way. And those eyes! He's certainly more interesting. Anyway, there's something kind of mysterious about him.'

It was eerie how Leticia echoed Marianne's thoughts from earlier.

'You're right. I like Bog best, too!' Marianne wasn't sure who spoke, but the statement started a war between the girls about which musician was the cutest/most talented/best potential boyfriend. She decided it was probably wise to leave before they became physically violent. Although she was tempted to stay and use the opportunity to break Chrissy's nose.

But that wouldn't be ladylike.

She sighed with regret, thinking that Roland should appreciate the sacrifices she made on his behalf.

Chrissy couldn't be telling the truth. She was just a lying little-!

'Look guys, money! Even better, extra money! Brutus wants us to come back, and he's willing to bribe us!' Sunny ran up to the table where they were gathered around complementary pizza. Brutus had handed it to them after closing, saying that feeding them was the least he could do after all of the business they had brought in that night. He was cleaning glasses behind the bar, but otherwise the restaurant was deserted.

Bog pulled Sunny into a seat. 'Calm down. Take a breath an' stop talkin' in exclamation points.'

Sunny tried to obey, but he was almost vibrating with excitement. He grabbed a breadstick and attempted to twirl it in his fingers like Bog with his drumsticks, but he lost his grip on it and sent it flying across the table like a poorly-weighted throwing knife. It struck Thang in the forehead, sending him toppling backwards. Marianne, who happened to be walking up to the table, caught him before he could hit the deck and propped him back upright.

'Whoa, Thang. I know it's been a crazy couple of days, but if you want to sleep, maybe the floor of a pizza joint isn't the best place for a nap.'

'I'm not-I didn't-I wasn't-flying killer breadstick!'

She raised an eyebrow as she dropped into the chair next to Roland. 'Yeah, you gotta watch out for those.' She caught sight of the money spread out between Sunny and Bog. 'Oooh, how'd we make out?'

She was looking at the money, so she didn't see Roland's frown at her comment. Bog did. Roland opened his mouth, but Bog answered before he could say anything unfortunate. 'We did alright. Got paid, plus some extra. An' Sunny says Brutus wants us t'come back.'

She whistled appreciatively. 'Nice! Well done, gentlemen! So…' she wiggled her eyebrows, 'all the girls were talking about you in the bathroom earlier.' Her expression darkened. 'I almost slugged some girl named Chrissy.'

'What? Why?' Bog completely believed that Marianne was capable of slugging somebody, and he pitied the girl that had incurred her wrath. He also had no doubt that she was justified in her ire.

'Chrissy? Chrissy Tompkins?' Of all the people to notice a girl, let alone know her name, Bog wouldn't have though it would be Thang.

Sunny leaned toward Bog and muttered, 'Who?'

Bog shrugged.

'Dark hair, polka-dot dress,' Thang stated matter-of-of-factly.

Marianne frowned at him. 'Yeah, how did you-?' She waved a hand. 'Never mind, not important. What is important is that she had her eye on my Roland.' She threaded her arms through Roland's and kissed his cheek. Bog tried not to gag. Roland was scribbling something in his notebook and didn't really acknowledge her.

She threw a smile over her shoulder at Bog. 'They had some nice things to say about our drummer, too.'

He hunched into his seat. 'Really? Uh, like what?'

She shrugged and winked. 'I dunno. Something about pretty eyes.'

His ears started burning, and he was grateful for the restaurant's dim lighting. 'Um. Well, tha's, tha's nice.' He grabbed a slice of pizza and stuffed it in his mouth so that he wouldn't have to talk.

Marianne chuckled at his discomfort and rested her head on Roland's shoulder, who impatiently twitched away. 'Do you mind, darlin'? I'm working on a new song and you're kinda interrupting my process here.'

'Oh sorry.' She straightened up and snagged her own slice of pizza. Bog wasn't sure, but he thought her cheeks looked a little red. He glared at Roland, who squinted at his notebook like the oblivious twat he was.

'So, Bog, what happened to Tina? I thought she was coming tonight.'

Bog turned his attention to Sunny – after all, what went on between Marianne and Roland was none of his business. 'Aye, she was. But apparently, she has a really bad toothache. She called th'store – fortunately, Ah answered an' nae mah grandfather, or worse, mah mother - an' said her face was all swollen an' she dinnae want t'be seen in public. Ah think she's goin' ta the dentist t'morrow.' He fished out a breadstick from the basket and took a bite. Not bad for flying killers.

'Maybe she just didn't want to be seen in public with you,' Roland muttered nastily.

Bog's fist tightened and the breadstick snapped in half. Imagining it was Roland's neck was somewhat soothing.

Marianne swatted her boyfriend's arm. 'Be nice. He's got just as many fans as you. Besides, you wouldn't have fans at all if he hadn't agreed to play drums. You should appreciate the guy who's propelling you to fame and fortune.'

'Yeah, we wouldn't be playing in a classy joint like this if it weren't for Bog.' Sunny's words were almost drowned out by a plane flying overhead.

Bog snorted. 'Ach, aye, very classy.'

They made sure to consumed every last scrap of food – after all, most of them were still growing. Except Bog. He was so done with growing. Afterward, they made their way out to the parking lot and their cars.

There were some scraggly, dry-looking bushes in front of the restaurant. As they passed, something launched itself from the bushes into their path. Thang gave a strangled eep and fainted, and with a high-pitched squeal, Roland grabbed Sunny and tried to hide behind him. Since Sunny was significantly shorter, he didn't make an effective shield. Bog dropped into a crouch, boot camp training coming back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Marianne brandishing a branch like a club. He wasn't sure where she'd gotten it, but he really wasn't surprised that she was the only other one of the group to go on the offensive.

'Woah, cool it, man!' A weedy, pimple-faced young man held up his hands, a mildly terrified look in his eyes. Belatedly, Bog realized he'd seen the kid at the talent show the night before, and he was pretty sure this was the one who'd…requested That Thing You Do earlier. Marianne relaxed, although she kept ahold of her stick. Bog straightened up slowly, enjoying the look on the guy's face as Bog loomed over him.

'It's nae nice to jump out at people like that. Especially at this time o' night. People can get kinda…twitchy.' The groupie swallowed, and Bog grinned. 'Now, why dinnae ye tell us what ye want.'

'Uh, yeah, of course. My name's Templeton. Templeton Peck. I grew up in the area, and I go to school at Mercy Hearst.'

'Ah dinnae need t'hear yer life's story. Can ye get ta the point?'

'Right, sorry. I just wanted to tell you that,' he took a deep breath, 'I love your song I love your music and I want to know where I can get the record.'

No one spoke. Templeton's eyes darted around the group. He gave them a nervous smile, and ran off.

'Well, that was…unexpected.' Marianne rested her stick on her shoulder and placed a hand on her hip.

'Yeah, there's some weird people out here.' Sunny shrugged off Roland and knelt next to Thang. 'Okay, sleeping beauty. Wakey wakey.'

Bog stared across the parking lot, frowning absently. He jumped when Marianne came up and touched his arm. 'You okay, Bog?'

He shook himself and glanced down at her. 'Aye, Ah'm fine, tough girl. It's just, he made me think – maybe it's nae such a crazy idea.'

'Huh?'

'Maybe we should make a record.'

Sunny looked up from Thang, who still looked dazed, but at least he was conscious. Besides, he always looked dazed. 'Seriously?'

'Aye.'

Marianne raised an eyebrow. 'What, like an actual record? A record record record?'

'Nae, the other kind o' record.'

Thang got to his feet. 'There's more than one kind of record?'

Bog made a mental note not to use sarcasm around Thang. It just wasn't fair. 'Sorry Thang, Ah was just kiddn'. Ah meant an actual, vinyl record. Marianne could sell them while we play. We might as well make as much money as we can while we can.'

Roland sniffed. 'I don't know that I'm comfortable milking my art for cash.'

Sunny scratched his head. 'How would we even make a record?'

'My dad might be able to help,' offered Marianne.

'That's right, your dad's pastor Bob.'

Now it was Bog's turn to be lost. 'Pastor Bob? Who's pastor Bob?' So this was how Thang felt all the time. He didn't like it.

Marianne smirked. 'My dad,' she said unhelpfully.

He growled. 'Aye, Ah got that part, thanks.'

Thang raised his hand. 'So, how can your dad help us?'

'Oh, her dad's cool. A little uptight, but cool. He records church choirs and stuff like that.'

'So he probably couldn't even handle my music,' Roland interjected. 'And I don't think I'm okay with this.'

Everyone ignored him. 'He wouldn't do it for free,' Marianne cautioned.

Bog affected a shocked look. 'What, not even fer his darlin' daughter?'

She whacked him in the stomach with her stick. It wasn't hard, but it wasn't gentle, either. 'And you'd have to watch your language.'

'Ah always watch mah language.' He resisted the urge to rub his abdomen. She really needed to stop beating him up. 'It helps t'pass the time.'

Roland sneered and crossed his arms. 'Weren't you in the Army? Military people have terrible language.'

Bog rolled his eyes. 'Ah was in the Navy. It's a wee bit different.'

'You're right, it's worse. Haven't you ever heard the expression, "swearing like a sailor?"'

'Ah have. Ah've never put much stock in it. An' it's beside th'point.'

'What was the point?' Thang whispered hoarsely.

Sunny spread his hands. 'Not really sure anymore.'

'The point is that I'll talk to my dad tomorrow, and we can work out a price and a time when you guys can record your song,' Marianne replied before Bog could. It was probably just as well. He was fairly certain she wouldn't appreciate him calling her boyfriend an insufferable git.

Even if it was the truth.

Oooh, look, foreshadowing!

Ugh, now I know why most fics start after the big break-up. It's because writing Marianne and Roland as a couple is NO FUN. I've got a specific point where Marianne will see Roland for what he really is (ie: shallow, power hungry, cheating, chattering, pig, SON OF A-!), but it seems so far away right now. *sob*

I have a headcannon for this story that Bog enlisted in the Navy shortly after he and Griselda moved to Eerie, and was in for 4 years, 2 months, and 28 days. Guy (Bog's TTYD counterpart) was in the Army at some point before the movie, but the Navy's better. I'm not sure how much detail I'll go into, but I've decided that he was an E5 electronics technician (I'm borrowing my dad's rank and job. I don't think he'll mind).