Dear Diary,

Today was better then I thought it would be. I was a little bummed out when I took a shower and could not get... Whose make-up was it? Brads? Anyway, I couldn t get their makeup of the top of my boobs. But, I couldn't let that ruin my day, even though it still looks like I have two big, red hickeys on my tits. It must of been Brad. He was the only other one with red eyes. I could get it off my face though. I don't understand at all.

I finally made my way downstairs, and Genta smirked because I didn't put on real clothes, just my PJs.

"How are you, honey?" She said as she walked by and but some toast and orange juice in front of me. I plopped my head down as answer. Genta, at the stove now, trotted over to me. "No, no! Keep your head up! It's three o'clock! You slept nine hours!"

"Good! I can sleep the pain away!"

"How about we sing something? Or dance?" I could tell she was desperate, by the tone of her voice.

"Magentah! Goh awahay!"

"That's it. Riff!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. Well, not at the top, his room is next to mine. Wink wink, diary.

Before I knew it, I was whisked away, up to our room. When I was set down on my bed, and I just started sobbing.

"Do... Don't cry. Genta will be up with some chicken noodle soup soon." I could hear the awkward just... Radiating off him. He was patting my shoulder, not even like a real person. Now I know why everytime Magenta cries, he sends her to me.

When Genta came up, I had stopped crying as much. "Genta. Genta! Come... Come sit down."

"Well I have your tray a-"

"I don't fucking care! Sit!"

"Oh-okay." She laid down beside me, and started stroking my hair. I put my head in her lap, and she stiffened.

"Come on." I said, almost being able to feel her blush. "Did you forget about the night before last? Member?" The heat was radiating from her cheeks. She is usually so strong. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"You seem so... weak since you guys killed Frank. Just like if we were kids. You are more nurturing, and your blushing."

"Well I think it changed me in a s-"

"Sing to me." This was the second time I interrupted her in one conversation, diary.

"What?"

"You heard me. Sing. Now."

"What do you want me to sing?"

"Something... Slow. Like a lullaby." She hesitated. "You don't know any do you? 'Kay. How about something by the Beatles." I knew they were the only group on Earth that she thought had any talent, even though they are so different from the music from Genta and Riff's home.

"Okay..." I could almost feel her smile. "When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now. Will you still be sending me a valentine, birthday greetings, bottle of wine? If I'd been out 'til quarter to three, would you lock the door? Will you still need me, will you still feed me when I'm sixty-four? You'll be older too, ah, and if you say the word, I could stay with you. I could be handy, mending a fuse when your lights have gone. You can knit a sweater by the fireside, Sunday mornings, go for a ride. Doing the garden, digging the weeds, who could ask for more? Will you still need me, will you still feed me when I'm sixty-four? Every summer we can rent cottage in the Isle of Wight if it's not to, dear. We shall scrimp and save. Ah, grandchildren on your knee, Vera, Chuck and Dave." I giggled. She sounded so funny in her accent. "Send me a postcard, drop me a line stating point of view. Indicate precisely what you mean to say, yours sincerely wasting away. Give me your answer, fill in a form, mine forever more. Will you still need me, will you still feed me when I'm sixty-four? Woah!" She hummed the last part.

"I love you."

"I- I love you too."

"In a friendly way?"

"Yes. What- what about you?"

"What ever you think, Genta. Night-night." About the middle of the night, Riff came in and said something to Genta. I think he said something about Tranyslvanya, Translyvania, Transl-however-the-hell-you-spell-it. I'm running out of erasers. And pencil lead, that is. So, I guess I should try to go back to sleep. But, I think I will be keeping you up you up to date.

-Collie (This is how I shall sign my name now)

A/N I own nothing. But that would be so cool if I did... Today's thought. You can only pick two.

A job that's fun.

A job that pays good.

A job that's legal.