Chapter 4: Nothing You Can Say

Riot glared at the redhead in front of her. He was picking a fight and Riot wasn't in the mood to lie over and let him land his blows. She was pissed and had been trying to silently seethe on her own, to avoid her maybe killing one of the Killjoys and thus getting kicked out, but, no, the only Killjoy who couldn't stand her had to show up. His tongue was like a knife and Riot was using every trick in the book to stop from slamming her fist into his face.

And maybe she wouldn't be as pissed if he wasn't the one messing with her mind. She didn't know how, or why, but she'd be damned if she tried to deny that the hotheaded Killjoy hadn't been on her mind for a while now. His absolute, obvious loathing for her drove her mind crazy, and she couldn't figure it out. She couldn't figure him out. Why did he hate her? What exactly had she done to get herself marked on the top of his personal hit list?

It was this question that actually started this whole spat anyways. The blue-haired teen often, when on her own, voiced every single thought that raced through her head. Sometimes these… voiced inner monologues could escalate and the teen found herself ranting to herself. It didn't bother her anymore, she had told at a young age, she was slightly mad. But to anyone who didn't know her, and now a days that was pretty much anyone else alive, it was probably unnerving.

So as she sat alone with her raging thoughts, an old acoustic guitar Ghoul loaned her perched in her lap, next to the rotting shed a couple miles away from the diner. She had played a lame version of American Idiot for a little before her thoughts stole her away from reality.

What she didn't know, is that apparently, Party Poison used the shed as his own personal hideout. And he happened to catch her just as the question burst from her lips in an angry snarl. His own dislike and distrust for the teen took control before he made a snarling remark. Mentally he winced as soon as the bitter words passed his lips and he watched as the girl looked up at him, her one eye wide with disbelief.

"You're talking to yourself? Are you fucking mental?" He spat. The redhead didn't understand, however, how that jab would affect her, and how well aimed it actually it was. But he continued, "And at the top of my list?" He sneered. "Don't flatter yourself. I've got better things to waste my ammunition on."

Her emotions raged a war against one another. Her eye pricked with tears, but she wasn't sure if they were angry tears or she really was hurt by his venomous words. She bit her lip but she wasn't positive it was because she was holding back a biting remark or a small whimper.

She didn't like the control he had over her mind. Over her emotions. It was infuriating.

She picked up the guitar as she lifted herself off the ground, dusting off the sand. "Sorry I bothered you." She snapped. It was ridiculous really; he was the one sauntered over and began to verbally assault her. But it proves to show how badly she wanted to remain apart of the Killjoys. To stay and have a sister, to be a mother to Missile, she wanted to stay to hear the few words Kobra spoke, she wanted to chat nonsense with Jet, strategy with Dr. D, and random girly things with Show.

And Ghoul… Riot blushed and Party raised an eyebrow at her. She really wanted to stick around to be with him.

Party glared at her as she began to walk away. "Aren't you supposed to be spunky? Violent? Aren't you a rebel? Killjoys don't just lie over and play dead." He called after her. He wasn't really sure why he was calling out to her, throwing more insults he was sure would get under her skin. He felt bad about it really, she was being a bigger person, and walking away when it was obvious he was being an asshole.

Riot froze. Killjoys don't just lie over and play dead. She thought about her time in the ocean, the tides swirling around her as she just gave up. No one cared. No one ever cared. No one ever will.

"I guess you're right." She answered. "But I'm not much of a Killjoy anyways." She turned and looked at him, her amber eye met his with such ferocity that Party stopped and gulped. "And you would know, wouldn't you? You made sure of it."

Party was shocked to see a small tear slip down her cheek before she apologized and ran off in the direction of the safe house. A sick feeling slipped down his throat, leaving a burning trail, and dropped into his stomach.

Ghoul watched as Party came back to the safe house. The smaller Killjoy crackled his knuckles in anticipation; he couldn't wait to show his best friend his fist. The asshole had the nerve to go and make Riot cry. He hadn't known her long, but he had seen her take down Drac after Drac, while her body was left in shreds. She hadn't cried. But something Party had said hit home with her.

He remembered seeing her come back, shoving the guitar into his hands, before she made her way into her room. He followed her in a hurry to find her staring at the wall, her face blank, before she let out a scream and smashed her hand into the wall. Ghoul had rushed forward and used her blanket to caress her bloody knuckles. He could only stare as tears began to flow freely.

She didn't say much, but he knew Party had done something. It made his blood boil.

But as he looked at his friend, his feet dragging and a painful expression on his face, he left his anger slip away. Sure, he was still pissed, he wasn't going to forgive the redhead for making Riot cry easily, but… maybe punching his lights out is a bit much.

He looked at his best friend as he entered his safe house. The two made eye contact and Party flinched.

"Is… Is she ok?" Ghoul rolled his eyes.

"She'll live." He answered. "I'm taking her out."

The redhead froze. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm taking her out for a drive tonight. To get her mind off everything. She needs a break from all the stress she's been under." Party winced again. "Plus I think you could use a break too."

He cast his hazel eyes away. "Maybe…"

Kinda lame, yes. But I'm setting the stage for the actual story. So, brace yourself.

TBATDP