DISCLAIMER: If winning isn't everything why do they keep score?

I spend Christmas Eve striping men down to their underwear and making them cry. All in all, it's a very satisfying day if not a little uncomfortable due to the wig and make-up I have to wear. Getting beaten within an inch of my life would kinda ruin Christmas...and my birthday. I went out last week all natural and made sure to make as big a show as I could. With everyone on the lookout for white hair and a scar, no one with really remember plain, brown haired teen.

I sit alone at an old table shuffling my cards for lack of anything better to do now that my reputation as unbeatable has spread around this bar. I'll have to come back here later to get any more suckers willing to blow their Christmas Bonuses. Drunks have a short memory, but gambling drunks barely remember anything passed the 'Yay, booze!' they thought as they walked in.

The floor squeaks loudly from behind me, a tell-tale sign someone's attempting to sneak up on me rather than just walk. I turn my head slightly to alert them I know they're there.

"Fancy a game, Shounen?" they drawl, switching to a walk by the sounds of it.

I don't even look up from my shuffling. "Sure, Hobo." The air shifts around me as Mikk moves to sit across from me, causing more smoke to swirl into my nose. Forget the other places I go to! I don't doubt I'll get cancer from all the second hand smoke in here alone.

"I'll deal," Mikk demands, holding out his hand for the deck. I split it in half, ignoring the looks we receive from the peanut gallery around us at the two most infamous players in the bar playing each other, and give one part to him with a smirk. "You don't trust me? Hurts me right here," he says, patting his dirty t-shirt over where he's heart should be, glasses flashing in the dim light.

"I didn't know you had a heart," I joke, quickly reshuffling my half of the cards and adding back in the cards I had up my sleeve since I first walked in. "Thought you sold it to the devil along with your common sense." Mikk rolls his eyes but doesn't deny it. "How long have you been here?" I ask, passing out my part of the deck.

"BS, huh?" he asks, watching my hand flick nimbly back and forth. "We haven't played this in a while," Mikk comments, following my lead till we each have equal parts of the deck. Of course, there aren't fifty-two cards in total anymore since we both cheat to the point where there can be eight aces in the mix or no aces at all. I don't doubt Mikk's already added some cards in his pile. "Since four o'clock, by the way," he answers, passing out his half of the deck when I finish.

"I've been here since three." I smirk, not looking up as I arrange my cards from ace to king. "I got you beat."

Mikk laughs. "You seem over-confident for a boy wearing cover up." I watch his golden eyes scan his cards through his glasses, deep in thought. I look at the two aces in my hand and debate whether he'll lie right off the bat or not. "Two aces," he decrees, placing his choices face down on the table.

I study him for a moment before casually throwing a queen and a two on the pile, leaning back in my chair and ignoring the itch on under my left eye. Stupid make up. How do girls wear this all the time? "Two twos. How's Road?"

Mikk shrugs, throwing one 'three' onto the pile and pulling out a cigarette. "Same old, same old." He smirks around the cancer stick as he lights it. "How's that kid who got jealous at the show? Lavi, was it?"

I shrug indifferently, putting down four 'fours' and hoping he's not paying enough attention to notice. "Fine."

"BS." I sigh and grab the pile, reclaiming my three, four, jack, and seven. His ability to talk and play have gotten a lot better from back when we were kids. "Get a fuck buddy yet?"

I scowl as he puts down his cards on the table. "You're as bad as Cross!" I frown uncomfortably as the itch I've had under my eye starts to become unbearable. The best I can do is itch around my make up. "Besides, you know me better than that." I throw a six on the pile.

Mikk shrugs. "People change. I would've never thought you'd be up on stage playing rock music," he crosses his arms and leans forward on the table, careful to aim his cards away from me as he studies me, "or here on Christmas Eve, conning men before they go home to their families." Mikk taps his temple lightly, retreating back to his seat and putting down two 'sevens.' "There's something obviously up in that pretty little white head of yours, and I'm betting on the red head."

"Three eights," I tell him flatly, tossing the cards haphazardly on the table. "Why are you talking to me, Mikk? We never talk in bars unless something's up. There has to be some other reason than the stupid notion I'm having problems with my friend." I'd expect this out of Road, but Mikk? It's not like he's ever cared before.

He breaths smoke into the air between us, not meeting my eyes so he can watch the smoke dance up in the polluted air and mix with the rest of the smoke. "What if I told you there's a Christmas miracle taking place?"

I snort. "I'd say I already had my Christmas miracle and rather not jinx it."

Mikk puts down his one 'nine' on the table, meeting my eyes. "What if I told you they're taking Neah's case back out-no, they have a trial date?"

"Bull Shit," I tell him, feeling the room go cold. Mikk looks sadly at me before looking down at his card, turning it over to reveal a nine of diamonds. My heart beats rapidly in my chest, and I start to breathe the smoke in heavily. "They aren't…no…please tell me I won't…" I try to see his eyes passed those damn glasses, but he's focused back on his cards, not looking up at me. I only vaguely notice him push the pile of cards towards me.

Mikk sighs, throwing his cigarette to the ground and pulling his hair from his face. It just flops back in his eyes. "Yeah, you might," he says, guessing my train of thought. His voice is weighted, like someone dragged it out of him. Mikk shots me a pitying look: the last straw.

I shakily get to my feet, setting down the cards I have in my hand on the pile I should pick up. I feel the room begin to spin, and the smoke suddenly feels like toxic gas in my throat. "I gotta go," I murmur, sweat running down my spine. I don't even wait to see if he heard my whisper before booking it to the restroom. People get pushed out of my way as I run out the door, not stopping till I find the nearest toilet. I can feel my stomach throb painfully in time with my steps and dinner surging in my gut, threatening to come back up.I reach the toilet and just barely manage to keep it down until I can lean over the porcelain bowl.

My thoughts swirl wildly, memories mixing with thoughts. I can't go back up there! Not again! All those people- I didn't do it- they wouldn't look away from me- stop! Don't look at- and dared to point the finger at my -Neah didn't do it! Why won't he tell the truth?-

"Allen?" I jerk up, whipping my mouth with my sleeve as Mikk kneels down next to me, placing what should be a comforting hand on my back. It makes me jump instead. He removes his hand, sighing. "I know it's a lot to take in-"

I laugh harshly, cutting him off. "Ya think? What else are you going to say? I bet I'm back under investigation as well!" I let my forehead rest against the cool surface of the toilet, reaching up for the handle to flush. After a few attempts at blindly reaching and not finding it, I let my hand fall. "It's not that I don't want Neah out, but I can't do it again. I just…I can't."

Mikk sighs and leans against the wall of the stall. "Are you sure? Maybe you're just psyching yourself out." He smiles down at me. "You got through the performance at school, right?" I nod, standing up to finally flush the toilet to get that awful smell away. "Just do what you did then."

I roll my eyes, moving over to a mirror above a sink to make sure my wig and make-up are still in place. "There's the small problem that I can't play music on the stand." I frown at my cracking voice and clear my throat, noticing with some relief my stomach's stopped hurting.

Mikk shrugs, detaching himself from the wall and pulling a coin out of his pocket to play with. "I think you should stick to that Lavi guy. You seem better since you started hanging out with him. More… bold." He flips the coin at me, making it twirl in the air. I catch it easily and look down at it. It's a small chocolate coin. "Get home and spend the rest of the day goofing off instead of at a creepy bar. Maybe you should call that Lavi up."

I let a small smile come to my face and stick the chocolate in my pocket. "You give the worst Christmas presents!"

Mikk smirks back at me. "No, it's a birthday present." He makes an exaggerated bow to me, hair swinging even further in his face to make him look even more run-down. "I'm sorry if it's too humble for you, sir," he says as if I'm the master and him the servant.

I smirk at him, recalling more than a few days where this was the norm. "Road'll be made if we play Mansion without her." House was too boring for her back when we were kids. Mikk was the butler, I was the master, and Road the mistress.

Mikk struts towards me, placing his hand flat against the sink so he can lean closer to me without falling. "We can make it the part when the secretly gay master sleeps with the hot help," he whispers, his smoky breath sliding onto my face.

"You know I would," I start, using both hands to push him away far enough to give me at least the illusion of a personal bubble, "but I kinda promised Lavi I'd sleep with him first before he went public with his and Kanda's love affair." The look on Mikk's face is priceless.

He steps back, sighing, and holds up his hands. "Very well. I wouldn't want the red head's sloppy seconds-"

"Hey!"

"- but let me know if the deal sours," he continues, ignoring my outburst. "'Kay?" I jolt at Mikk's voice sounding so serious, but he's probably just teasing me…or it's Tyki right now?

My phone buzzes in my pocket. "Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass." I move out from between him and the sink counter, pulling out my cell to check. It's a message from Lavi. "The time's 8:40; you might want to get home before they eat without you," I tell Mikk offhandedly, heading for the exit.

Mikk follows me back out into the main room of the bar. People are starting to leave, a few without most of their clothes. I feel a smirk come to my face at all the pointed fingers and whispers about me I hear the whole way to the door. It seems I won't be able to come back here for a while after all.

"Who texted you?" asks Mikk, a tone I can't quite hear over the other voices making me uncomfortable to say it's Lavi. I shrug and don't answer. "If it's nothing, why don't you come for Christmas Eve dinner? You haven't been to one since…forever."

"I'm fine," I tell him, smiling as I finally get out of the stuffy smoke and into fresh air. "I need to get home anyway. What if Cross comes home drunk again?" Last time I wasn't home at this time of year and he was, the guy somehow managed to destroy the TV, the fridge, and half the screen door in the house we'd be living at. He also fell asleep outside halfway naked and caught the flu, but that's another life-scarring story.

Mikk rubs the back of his head. "Fine, but you'd better come see Road sometime. She's ready to stalk you home so she can 'play with her toy.'" He shivers. "I've been your substitute."

"We'll see," I laugh, starting in the direction of home. I hold down my wig as the wind blows the snow into my face, blinding me enough I almost walk into a man outside the bar. I quickly apologize, unable to see their face or hear their answer over the wind. I wait for it to die down before taking out my phone and opening the text Lavi sent, the screen reflecting the streetlights.

Y rn't u home? D:

I frown and quickly punch in my answer.

How do u know Im not home?

There's a long pause before he answers back.

…intuition?

R u in my house?

…mayb…mayb not…;)

I thank my lucky stars I hid Lavi's sketchbook under my bed in a box. I look both ways before crossing the street, feet slipping along the ice. I make sure I'm on mostly solid ground before responding.

Please tell me u didnt break in again!

Fine, I wont tell u

LAVI!

I laugh under my breath, stopping to make sure I'm going the right way. I smile as I pull the coat Lenalee got me tighter around my body and snuggle into it. She always gets the best presents. I wonder what Lavi got me. I pull out an orange scarf I won that reminded me of him and study it. Should I really just add this in? I mean, it probably smells like smoke, and some other person was using it…but what he doesn't know won't hurt him.

My phone vibrates in my hand.

R u coming yet~?

About ½ way there now.

Hurry up~~! Im bored!

Y r u at my house anyway? Im just gonna c u 2morrow 4 dinner.

I'm only a few minutes from home (fingers and toes frozen into ice blocks at this point) when he responds.

Y not? Don't u less than 3 me, Allen?

When ur not annoying the hell out of me, yeah.

Ow…harsh.

I smirk and stick my phone back in my pocket, pulling out my keys and exposing my hand to the harsh, snowy air. The metal's frozen to the touch and doesn't help my already numb fingers at all. I knock on my door, hoping Lavi will let me in. He doesn't. Pissed, I peck in the window only to see everything dark. Frowning, I fumble with the lock for a good five minutes before finally getting inside. I look around, frowning. It looks the same as I left it, all the lights and heat off.

Where r u?

About 3 hrs from town :D

…I hate u.

HEY! I was making sure u weren't gambling 2 late! U don't want another head ache, do u?

I don't respond; there's really nothing to say to that. Well, 'thank you' is an option, but that can lead to an awkward conversation I'm not in the mood for. Gambling off and on for four hours tends to wear me out. I throw my wig next to my bed, not bothering to wash off the cover-up on my face. It would require more energy than my lazy, teenage body has to walk to the kitchen not even three yards away, wash my face, and walk back.

I lean over the side of my bed and pull out Lavi's sketchbook. I've only opened it one other time than the first time, and the inside wasn't pretty. I started back at the beginning where the boy chained to the wall was. The picture after it was a destroyed clock with the hands stuck at 4:45 with the background covered in very well-drawn cracks that looked real. The next was a mirror reflecting a faceless man with a warped shadow behind it. I shut the sketchbook after that, thoroughly creeped out for the rest of the night.

I study the happy front cover, one of the only two more positive drawings I've seen, the other being the one of my arm. I understand why Lavi doesn't want anyone looking at these. If the school guidance counselor saw this I don't doubt he'd end up going to a therapist or something. I pity the poor therapist that'd get stuck with Lavi; he'd need his own psychologist after that crazy red head.

Sighing, I throw the stupid book on the ground and resolve to give it back to Lavi tomorrow. Of course, I won't tell him I looked inside; I'll say I found it under the couch or something.

I throw my arm over my head and glance to the clock: only 9:20. Sighing, I start wracking my brain for Christmas songs, but it's really spooky to hear them echoing in the empty house when I sing them. Although I'm used to being alone on Christmas Eve, it doesn't mean I like it.

I pull back out my phone, changing it from vibrate to speaker just in case I start drowsing off, and send Lavi a text.

+Lavi+

"You're gonna end up smoking crack, on your back, face the fact-"

"Sir, are you drunk?" asks a female voice from the speaker in the drive through. Finally! I've been sitting here for five minutes with the window down! It isn't exactly warm outside with all the snow and wind.

I stop singing and laugh. "I should hope not, seeing as I'm driving." I don't think five bottles of Mountain Dew can make you drunk, just really, really hyper…like I am now. "Should I get out and stand on one leg before I order to make sure?"

An agitated sigh. "Just order your damn food."

I raise an eyebrow at the box. "Can't you get fired for language like that?"

"Maybe, but seeing as I'm forced to work on Christmas Eve, I believe I'm entitled to a bad mood." There's static for a second. "What do you want to eat?"

I scan the menu quickly for something small to satisfy my sugar tooth and not impact my wallet too much. "How about…" I quickly do some math in my head for tax, "a medium vanilla cone with rainbow sprinkles."

The person on the box scoffs loudly, causing a burst of high-pitched static to come from the box. "'Rainbow sprinkles?' What are you, four?"

I smirk at the device, hating the worker can't see me. "Depends: mentally or physically?"

I can almost hear their teeth gnashing. "Just come get your food, moron."

I make an exaggerated sniff like I'm crying. "I'm going to Wendy's next time! They don't hurt my feelings like you do!" I slide the window up and blast the heat, moving forward to the first window. I peer in to see no one and relax back in my seat, humming random bits of songs I know.

"Reality isn't sweet," I end up singing, thinking back to the copied part of the poem Allen wrote sitting in my room, "enough to make me not want to drink it." Hmm, not bad. I jump when there's a tap at my window and immediately stop singing. I roll it back down, snow blowing into my face in an attack. I blink once at the worker, wondering if the snow is pulling tricks on me. "Fou?"

The pink haired senior sighs, adjusting the stupid hat with the fast food logo on her head. "Shoulda known it was you." She leans through the window on her arms, almost loosing her hat in the wind as she squints in my car. "Where's that other kid? Allen, right? Isn't he your pet or somethin'?"

I roll my eyes. "No, he's my friend." I cock an eyebrow at her. "Why aren't you at King's?" Allen and I went there a lot during the month I had to feed him just to watch Eshi's face turn five different shades of red when he saw us. The sharp decline in my wallet was worth it.

"Went outa business," she sniffs. Whoops! "You owe me two bucks for the ice cream," Fou tells me, holding out her hand for the money.

"Did you give me a discount for swearing at me?" I question, reaching in my pocket for my wallet with a smirk. My phone goes off, scaring me half to death.

…I wonder what happens if you get half scared to death twice?

I'm a sleepwalker, walker, walker-

Guess who it is. I pull it out with my wallet and hand Fou the money before checking the text from Allen.

Y r u 3 hours from home?

Truth be told, I'm only about ten minutes away now. I was at the HQ doodling on a new sheet to hang in the doorway and chugging the old soda we have- well, had- before it expired. I knew Allen'd probably invite me over or come meet me here if I told the truth, and we'd end up spending the whole night goofing off and crashing on the couch at his place. I need to make sure I'm home and awake with all my band and art stuff hidden before my parents- no, Dad comes for dinner.

I hand the money to Fou, not really paying attention as I tap in my reply.

Y were u gambling on Xmas Eve?

Touche

"Here," Fou tells me impatiently, handing seventy-five cents back to me. "They'll have your kiddy ice cream at the next window." She smirks. "I'm surprised you can even afford this after the way Allen cleaned you out." Her demeanor changes, and she straightens up as her eyes gleam. "You're some rich kid, huh?

I laugh and gesture to my old car. She deflates a little. "Nope. My Gramps ended up with a well-paying job around the time, and I had old gift cards I used. Allen also pitched in a couple times." My phone goes off again.

"Is that him now?" asks Fou, stretching her neck in an attempt to see. I nod, frowning. It's unusual for Allen to text me so much without me starting the conversation.

When should I come over 2morrow?

Dk. Have to talk 2 gramps 2 c when dinner is. I might just txt u when my parents leave

"So what's up with you two?" Fou asks, completely relaxed as she studies me carefully. "Are you guys band mates? Friends? You always looked like you're on a date when you came to King's."

I roll my eyes, hiding my confusion behind a smile. "Everyone acts like that with their friends."

Fou doesn't look convinced. She starts nibbling on one green fingernail as she stares me down, the polish starting to flake off. "Yeah, but not you. Ever since you came to school, you've been almost… not here. Like your mind was somewhere else. The only time I could see you even had emotions was when you were with that girly-boy and Lenalee, and even then you were still kinda absent."

I smirk, not letting the curiosity I feel at her surprising observation show. "I'm sensing a crush."

Fou stands up, pissed. Someone calls for her from the back, but I can't understand it. She can, apparently. "Hold on! I'll give him his ice cream! What does it matter anyway? Not like anyone else is coming!" She stomps away.

Sighing, I release the death grip I had on my phone. Was I really that withdrawed? I know I didn't start acting like I was happy and hyper till ninth grade, but why would Fou notice? And where's she going with this?

"Here." I look over to finally see my ice cream. I thank Fou and take it carefully from her hand, licking the top off and crushing the sprinkles in my teeth. Mmm! Doesn't matter how old you are: sprinkles never get old.

"Where was I?" Fou asks, getting comfortable in the window.

"Admitting your crush on me?" Thank god she can't reach in my car, or Fou would've pushed my cone into my face. "Why else would you notice?"

She relaxes back into the window, checking to make sure no one has pulled into the drive through before sighing. ""Do you think Lenalee only hangs out with you? I was keeping an eye on her." She bites her lip. "I saw how you acted, and it reminded me of a friend of mine who was like that after his parents died. He still talked to me, but almost folded in on himself. Then he acted like you did, all fake and crap." Fou smirks. "Well, at least until little Allen came into the picture."

"What do you mean?" I ask, keeping my eyes on my awesome ice cream. I gotta come here again!

"You actually talk to people, like right now." Fou smirks at me, red eyes gleaming. "If I'd tried to talk to you like this a year ago, you'd have driven off faster than I could say 'monkey ass.'" I chock on my cone at her choice of words.

"So?" I ask, crunching off a large part of the cone. The faster I get done the faster I can leave. "Maybe I'm feeling talkative today."

"Bullshit."

"Fou!" She turns around. "Come on!" I move to try and look around Fou, but I can't see who's calling her. "I know your shifts over, and I need to get home soon!" yells the impatient male voice.

I smirk at her. "Boyfriend?"

Fou matches my expression, pulling off her dorky hat victoriously. "He is to me as you are to Allen."

"That makes no sense!" I yell, but she's already gone. Sighing, I throw the rest of my cone into my mouth and pull out onto the street, speed-dialing Gramps. Sending him a text is like asking a mouse to kiss a cat: stupid and will result in someone's death.

The phone rings twice before I hear him pick up. "Hello?" he answers, voice tired and drained. He must be swamped if he didn't bother to check the caller ID like usual.

"Hi, it's Lavi." I turn out of town and switch on my high beams, going slower than usual since I have the phone, snow, and dark to consider now. "I told Allen he could have the left-overs of our Christmas Feast. What time do you think we'll be done?" There's silence from his end. "Gramps?" I ask, worried when I don't hear a snappy comeback.

"I heard you," he snaps. There it is! I back off and wait. Finally, he responds, "Just have him over to eat with us." It sounds like the answer is ripped out of him against his will.

I blink. "You feelin' okay, Gramps? You want me to have a guy over for Christmas? Really?" I sigh impatiently, already not in the mood thanks to Fou. "First you want me to clear out, then you want me to stay. Now you want me to bring my guy best friend to dinner. Anything else? A nuclear bomb perhaps, or is that what my dad'll use to kill me?"

"Just do whatever, but tell him to come at five if he's eating with us!" growls Gramps into the phone. The flat dial tone singing shrilly in my ear alerts me he cut off the connection. I can imagine Gramps collapsing on the bed at his hotel as he throws his cell phone on his bag, packed and organized for the morning already. I sigh and throw my cell on the passenger seat so I can focus on the way back home. It's almost a fucking blizzard outside! Hell, there's hail hitting the windshield now! I hope Allen got home before this started up.

My house is like a hollow ice cube when I come in. I take my shoes off but keep my coat on till I reach my room where I left a tiny space heater on, glad to get out of the cold air in the rest of the house. I throw my coat onto the small pile of clothes in the corner of my room that are dirty but wearable and flop onto my bed, letting the warmth erase the goose bumps that've appeared on my arms.

Fou's words won't leave me alone. 'He was to her as I am to Allen?' The hell does that mean? And he made me more life-like? Sure, maybe I pushed the guy a lot and wanted to know him. Sure, I'm getting a little, microscopic crush on the guy that'll probably go away in time, but how could he bring me out of my mask that much already? Couldn't his arrival be at just the precise moment I'm starting to be, well, me again?

Am I canceling his mask out as much as he is mine?

"Agh!" I scream, pushing my face into my pillow. Why is this so goddamn confusing!

My cell makes a annoying pattern of beeps from my pocket to report its dying. I roll to the left side of my bed, sticking my legs over the side in time to keep me from falling to the floor. My charger is already plugged in, so it's just a matter of finding the right wire in the jumbled mess around the extension cord in the only outlet in my room. I turn on the computer while I'm at it too.

I go back to lay on my bed, the charger wire taunt as plug it into my phone. Fou's words jump around in my room, taking up the empty space as I try to figure out what to tell Allen. Do I want him to meet my parents? Surly Dad won't say anything, and Mom's on my side. But do I want to take the chance? Dad's temper isn't really the best…but it'd be easier with a friend. This way, Dad can't question me without bring up how I'm gay; he won't do that in front of a stranger.

Want 2 come over 4 dinner?

I stare at the message for a few minutes, silently arguing with myself as I weight the pros and cons. This could be a good opportunity to get Allen more comfortable around me, but what if Mom sees the small crush I'm starting to get on him with her Mom Radar? As long as she doesn't say anything, it'll be fine, right? It's not like they'll start talking about the CIA or the inevitable fact I'll be the next bookman or why I was kicked out of the house in the first place.

…Right?

I send it and get an instant reply.

I'm a sleepwalker-

I stop the guitar and voice dead, changing my phone to vibrate before checking Allen's message.

U feeling ok?

I bark out a laugh and type in a lie.

Yeah. It was gramps idea if u can believe it!

Is ur gramps feeling ok?

Doubt it. Probably going senile from work. ;)

Ill be there as long as I get food XD

Figures

I move to sit on the edge of my bed to sit in front of my computer. I quickly type in my password, ******** (like I'm going to tell you), and wait for it to warm up. Bored, I check my usual sites and email before clicking on Netflix. I just randomly scroll through, nothing really catching my eye. I snort at one anime picture with a fat guy in a top hat and some kid with a silver arm. Can you say random?

I'm debating between some show called 'Death Note' and the first season 'Yu-Gi-Oh' when Allen texts me again.

Want ur present 2morrow?

I glance over to the bag containing the presents I got Allen, smiling. I also added in a picture I think he'll like.

Sure.

k. Night.

Night? I glance at the clock. Since when was it 10 o'clock? I look at the tempting anime. One episode won't hurt, right?

+Allen+

I wake up Christmas Day to the eerie starting notes of the Descartes a Kant version of 'Carol of the Bells' in my ears.

Hark! How the bells, sweet silver bells. All seem to say, "Throw cares away."

Frowning and still half asleep, I pull my ear buds out to stop the creepy female voice. The wire tightens around my neck as I throw my ipod off my bed. I must've fallen asleep with them in and got tangled in it. That would explain the strange dream I had with angels shooting each other as 'Angel with a Shot Gun' played in the background…

I sniffle, noticing my nose is slightly clogged, signaling the beginnings of a cold, and my mouth has they strange dry feel you get when you sleep with it open all night. Pile that on top of the fact I feel even more tired than I did when I went to bed with the strange throbbing on my right hip, and Christmas officially sucks right now. I don't think I could feel crappier if a monkey driving a steamroller hit me.

Groaning, I get up and stumble to the medicine cabinet in the kitchen (still no bathroom…stupid Cross) with my hip stabbing me all the way. I open the cabinet, the rough wooden handle stabbing me with splinters. A few bottles fall as I sort through them to find something to hopefully help my cold, but, thankfully, none of them break. I grab the Tylenol and spill the tiny pills into my hand, making sure not to loose any as I pop them in my mouth and take a long drink from the sink's iron-polluted toilet water.

For once I'm not hungry, not a good sign. The clock tells me it's half passed nine, right in the middle of breakfast time. Definitely not good. Suppressing a sigh, I move back to bed and set my alarm to four, hoping whatever's going on will be gone by the time I go to Lavi's.

I grab my alarm and set it to about an hour before I should be at Lavi's and flop back into bed. The blanket's still warm from last night. I curl into the wall, resting my head on the cool white surface and absentmindedly rubbing my right hip. A dog's bark drifts through my head as I nod off. It's cut off with a yelp, and I see red for an instant behind my closed lids. I hear screams, but they're far away and indistinguishable, merging into one voice.

Oh…that's why my hip hurts…I usually feel the pain there only after a dream from when Mana died. All I can do is ride the echoes out, pushing away the memories left over from then.

+Cross+

"Stop moving!" I snap at the thing occupying the passenger seat of my car. I can't believe I even let him in here with all that overgrown hair and dirt. I'll be- Allen will be scrubbing that seat for the next goddamn month. Least that brat can do after all this shit. Fucking Christmas…maybe Scrooge was right and the ghosts just f'ed him up.

I sigh impatiently at the construction in front of me, tapping my finger on the wheel in an effort not to flip the fat guy holding the sign off. Why is it always the fat guy's always holding the sign? Because this is all he's good for at a construction sight besides eating everyone's lunch. Asshole.

I sense eyes from the passenger seat and keep my sight locked straight ahead. I hear him shift on the seat, no doubt making it even filthier. Why am I doing this again?

I feel him nudge my arm and ignore him. He does it again. I can't stop from flicking my eyes over to meet his brown ones that regard me curiously, lighting up when he sees he has my attention. Oh yeah, it's because I actually like him. He's one of the few people I can stand next to Allen and a few members of that crazy Noah family.

Finally, the fat guy flips the sign to 'slow,' and I can go forward. I take out the map I have and scowl, trying to figure it out. I swear, Neah and his fucking maps trying to get me here, let alone back. 'Turn right at the smiling mouse and go for two four minute songs before you turn left. I recommend 'Paint it Black' and 'Get Out Alive.'" Psycho pianist. Judging by the people Allen hangs around, he's gonna be just as mental.

Still, I didn't expect Bookman's brat to be here, or that Bookman was still working on side jobs for the CIA. That Lavi kid must know about me-Bookman will have made sure of that-, but has he told Allen anything?

…Naw. That red head looks about as dead as Allen did when I first saw him. It was like he was empty or somethin'. Though looking back, I don't like the look in his eye I've seen the few times I've caught sight of him and Allen together, like he was a drowning victim and Allen the raft. What's more is the brat looked the same way, whether he was aware of it or not.

Of all the people to snap him out of the daze he's been walking in since then, why'd it have to be a Deak of all people?

"Watch the road, asshole!" I yell out the window, swerving in time to miss some gay bastard in a prissy, powder blue Prius. Then I realize I was on the wrong side of the road. Whatever, he should've gotten out of the way anyway. See? Even my passenger's yelling at him. Maybe he is good for something besides making more work for the brat and muddying up my car.

+Allen+

I got your love letters, corrected the grammar and sent them back.

I jump as Pete sings in my ear with guitar and drums slapping me awake. Fumbling, I mange to find my stupid alarm clock and cut them off mid-song.

True romance is dead, I shot it in the chest then in the head-

I listen to such happy music.

Running a hand through my hair, I walk over to the window and open the curtain. Damn! I cover my eyes and let the curtain fall into place. The first white Christmas I've had in years, and it blinds me. Today is not my day.

I notice I can actually breathe relatively well now and feel well-rested. My hip's even stopped throbbing and is now only a small ache that can be easily ignored. Awesome! Maybe today will look up after all. Then I remember I'll have to see the parents Lavi's skated around mentioning since I've known him. I wonder what's so bad about them? I still don't know what possessed me to come-no, I do. It was curiosity and the desire to know something about Lavi like he does about my arm. I hate him having the one-up on me, even if he'd never use it against me. Old habits die hard.

I grab a red shirt with green accents and a pair of worn-but-comfy jeans and move to the kitchen. I turn on the small shower in the corner after checking for spiders first. I don't want a repeat of last time. The showerhead's stream doesn't reach the whole way to the back, so Cross and I take off our clothes in that space to avoid any…awkward situations…again (I swear my eyesight hasn't been the same since…ugh). I do it now just out of habit.

I do my best to dry off with some paper towels since I'm a little behind on laundry, but I can feel the left over water from my hair and chest soaking into my shirt when I pull it on. I should probably change before I go over to Lavi's, but this is the only Christmas-ish shirt I have. Ah, well. I don't think he'd care either way.

There's still a half an hour before Lavi told me to come, but there's really nothing to do here. I grab his present and hesitate to slip his sketchbook in. I can tell him I found it yesterday, but will be believe me? In the end, I leave it in my room.

My shoes are a little damp from last night now that the snow on and in them has melted, but I'm only walking across the yard. I make sure to wear a jacket that has minimal chance of slipping to reveal my arm and pull on Lenalee's gift before daring to venture out into the freezing, white tundra that is Pennsylvania.

The snow's whiteness still hits my eyes hard, and it reaches up to mid-shin, making me stumble a few times on my quick walk to Lavi's. It feels like the sun is purposely angling itself so the light hits directly into my face of the snow. My eyes have basically burned out of their sockets by the time I finally make it to the front door and stumble in. The 'snow glare' used to be okay after a few seconds when I was a kid; I guess I'm just not used to it now after no snow for four years.

I make sure to take off my snow-covered shoes before going further into Lavi's house. Everything still looks the same: uninhabited and clean. Like my house, it has no tree with presents crammed under it or decorations. There's a half-hearted attempt to be festive with an old, mechanical singing Santa near the TV, but that's it. Somehow I'm not surprised, even with Lavi's happy personality.

I spin around as I hear crashes from upstairs and Lavi's voice. "Damn!" His groan echoes down the stairs, followed by another yell accompanied with more crashing. I dash up the steps, hoping he's okay. From the sounds of things, I might be able to get some blackmail.

Or see his eye.

I stop before the completely barren door of what I hope is his room. A look down the hall that reveals no signs, colors, or pictures to mark one room from another, which is odd in itself. Even I put a sign on my bedroom door when I was younger saying 'Keep out unless Neah or Mana' and then 'Stay out of my room, Cross!' later. Mana's house had subtlety different colored doors as well.

The door gives a small click as I turn the handle. "Lavi?" I ask, opening the door and coming in. I take one look at my friend and laugh.

Lavi has to have just woken up. No one- no matter the circumstance- walks around in an over-sized shirt with a toad with bold letters reading 'kiss me' and pink bunny underwear half an hour before their parents and friend are coming. His hair is a giant mess that sticks up everywhere more so than usual, and the one visible eye (damn it) has an almost dazed look as he stares at me, like he just woke up.

There's a moment of silence between us, broken only when his computer starts playing music.

It's time to d-d-d-d…d-d-d-d-DUEL!

I raise an eyebrow at him, a smile playing on my lips "What are you doing here?" Lavi asks, flushing a little at being caught watching Yu-Gi-Oh in hid underwear. "You're supposed to come at five, right?"

I shrug, looking around the room. "I'm only twenty minutes early. Nice underwear, by the way," I offer distractedly, still trying to fit my image of Lavi with this two just don't go together.

It's not just neat, it's spotless-well, if you ignore the pile of crap Lavi's knocked over and is still sitting in. The carpet a shade darker than Lavi's eyes seems to be recently vacuumed, and the bookshelves don't have a speck of dust. I notice with some amusement that the two are separated into categories: non-fiction on one and fiction and comics-or is it manga? I can never tell the difference- on the other. He doesn't have a TV, but a computer showing Yugi is between the two bookshelves on the left wall. The bed is smack-dab in the middle of the room, still unmade, with a box is laying on it. The right side of his room has his guitar on a stand, the two acoustics we used, and a small, beat-up keyboard piano with sheet music on it. Squinting, I can see the sheet music he was recently looking at was "A Thousand Miles." Maybe he's trying to learn it?

The walls take the cake. The color is nothing special, a white faded to off-white over the years, but the things that cover it are awe-inspiring. Countless pictures with scenes and characters from games, cartoons, and even some real people cover are taped all along three of the four walls. Some are colored but most are just shaded with a pencil or outlined in marker. The other wall, the one with all the instruments close by, has sheet music and what I think are lyrics instead of pictures. There are a few posters mix in as well around the room and some photos of people are taped above his bed. One of them looks like us on stage from school, but I can't tell from this distance. Strangely enough, the wall Lavi's laying in front of is almost completely void of any pictures, drawn or otherwise.

"You're one to talk." Lavi pushes the books from the fiction shelf that fell on him away and stands up, stretching. "So, why are you here again?" He smirks at me. "Trying to catch me in my sexy underwear?"

I roll my eyes and wave my present in front of him. "No, but I'm never going to let you live down the fact you have rabbits on your boxers." I consider going for my phone but figure he'll have enough time to duck for cover before I can get a good picture. "I was hoping to get my present and some food early," I tell him, throwing off my jacket and moving over to sit on his bed. I casually try to peck in the box on it, but he grabs the box, slides it under his bed, and pulls out a bigger box instead. I cock an eyebrow as he throws it on the bed haphazardly and jumps on as well, sitting between me and the box. My present suddenly feels microscopic, even though it did take the biggest bag I had because of the stuffed rabbit. "Rock, Paper, Scissors to see who goes first?"

I hold out my fist, and he does the same.

Paper covers rock: I win.

Lavi frowns, shifting to get a better position. "Two out of three."

Scissors beats paper: I win.

Rock smashes scissors. I make a giant gesture of hitting his two fingers as I win again. "You stink at this."

Lavi crosses his arms. "Cheater," he mumbles. "No one wins three times in a row."

I get up to grab my present and flop back on the bed, chuckling. "I do. Besides, how in the world can I cheat at Rock, Paper, Scissors?"

Lavi points a finger accusingly at the pentacle part of my scar. "That scar!" he declares. "I bet it gives you the satanic power to read minds! Quick, what am I thinking of right now?" He squints his eyes closed, looking constipated.

"A green monkey?"

"Ha!" he yells victoriously. "An orange unicorn with candy corn teeth!"

"Did you take your medicine today?" I ask teasingly.

Lavi shakes his head, gesturing to the empty air above him. "The talking, floating zebra told me not to, and the glowing, purple squid backed him up." He shrugs helplessly, shaking his head. "You don't say no to the glowing, purple squid."

I laugh and hand him my present. "We can just both go if you think I'm lying."

Lavi nods and drops the box onto me. It's surprisingly light. "One-two-three!" he says in one sprinting breath, plunging his hand into the bag to throw out the bit of tissue paper I put in. I roll my eyes and focus on the green and red wrapping paper of mine. I rip it off and find the opening of the box quickly, taring the few strips of tape off to open it. When I look inside, I laugh. The thing is basically empty on the inside except for a few items.

"It was the only thing I had," Lavi tells me, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

I shake my head and turn my attention to the four things inside, smiling slightly as I catch sight of the golden…creature he made at Build-a-Bear. Guess we had the same idea. A giant cross is in the middle of what I think is its face, and it has wings and a long tail that ends in a swirl. I have no idea how it reminds him of me, but I do like it.

The next is a simple black jacket like the ones I usually wear, but the zipper is a silver rose cross. Mine have been getting smaller (yes, I'm getting taller), and I can tell this one will be nice and baggy while still staying on my shoulders.

I pull out a delicate piece of paper underneath it, able to see the colors through the back. I flip it over, and my breath catches in my throat. A colorful circus spread carefully across the drawing paper is my next gift. I can see almost every performance in the circus depicted, but what draws my eyes especially are a women in a tight leotard crossing a tightrope, a lion tamer that looks suspiciously like Ms. Nine standing impressively with a whip in hand near an over-sized, money-beast hybrid, and- no, it can't be!- the same joker on my iPod at the center of it all, balancing impressively on a giant rubber ball with a confident smirk as he looks back at me.

I place the picture aside gingerly and take out the last thing in the box: another smaller box. Don't worry; there are cards in the small box. I dump the new cards into my palm, the rigid paper warm from being in Lavi's room. I do a few basic shuffles to get them lose before absentmindedly counting them as I watch Lavi finish his present.

Wait…fifty-three? I count again and get the same results. Frowning, I look down at my new cards. The beautifully detailed ace of spades looks back. I sort the numbers into piles and look for a double or blank card.

"What's wrong?" Lavi asks, looking ridiculous with an orange scarf wrapped around the bottom half of his face in what I would say is a ninja fail.

"There's an extra card in here," I tell him, half way through the deck. "I'm trying find-here it is!" I hold up the second ace of spades victoriously before checking it for any damage or tell-tale marks that can be used to cheat. "This is the first time I have too many instead of not enough," I muse, noticing my friend keeps his eyes locked on the stunning design.

Lavi snickers. "That's what he said."

I start to move my leg to kick him off the bed, but then I think about the joy and peace we're supposed to express on this day that Christ was born and how we're supposed to love one another. How it's a time to respect your fellow man and share the world we live in, gay or straight, white or black, genius or hopeless idiot.

Then I remember it's also my birthday.

"Ow!" Lavi looks up at me from the floor, rubbing his back as he sits up. I smirk at him and stretch out on the bed, gathering back up my cards but keeping the extra ace on top. "Was that really necessary?" he grumbles, shoving my feet out of the way so he can sit back down.

I let him and sit back up, moving to sit cross-legged so I can watch him finish opening my present. I have the sinking suspicion he watched me open his, which is why the only thing he's seen so far is the scarf still wrapped around his neck in a ninja fail.

I have to choke back a laugh as he pulls out the red rabbit I got him, his expression completely confused. It takes a second for him to process the eye patch and bandana, but Lavi bursts out laughing as he gets the joke. He smiles at me and makes a giant show of putting his new bunny on his pillow and covering him with a sheet like it was a baby, even going as far as kissing it on the forehead.

He beams at my eye roll and reaches into the bag, grabbing his last present: the small hammer charm. I watch as Lavi's face becomes serious. He holds it up, squinting his eyes to get a better look, eye drinking in every detail. His free hand lightly brushes over the details as if afraid the metal will shatter like glass.

Lavi lowers the charm after a few minutes, keeping it in his hand. "Thanks, Allen," he says, completely honest.

I smile and hold out the extra ace to him. "One more." I shrug. What am I going to do with his extra card anyway? I saw the way Lavi looked at the design before; why not let him have it? "Merry Christmas."

"Happy Birthday." Lavi frowns, shifting on his bed uncomfortably. "Cross didn't come home…huh?" I shake my head, not saying anything. I keep my eyes away from him, walking over to the keyboard and absentmindedly playing 'A Thousand Miles' to fill the silence. It's not like I expect Cross to come home, but I can never stifle the feeling of abandonment when no one ever comes. After Mana and Neah…well, it takes some time to readjust to being alone.

I stop playing and look at the clock. "You might want to get dressed," I recommend. Lavi follows my look, eyebrows furrowed in confusion until he recalls the real reason I'm here.

"Shit!" he hisses, running out of the room for a moment-probably to look out a window to check for his parents- before running back in, unwinding his scarf and grabbing his shirt to pull it off. I swear I'm not staring at his chest... or craning my head for a better look. Nope, no impure thoughts from the half-gay guy here.

I draw the line at his strip tease when his hands go for his boxers. "Yeah…where's the bathroom?" I ask, shifting uncomfortably from the keyboard.

…Get your head out of the gutter; I actually have to go! I'm not passing up the chance to finally use a toilet in winter. Cross and I've had to go outside in the snow. Do you know what that's like? Oh, the humanity!

Lavi jumps like he forgot I was here and turns away so I can only see his back. I think I see his neck turn red from in between his hair, but it's hard to tell. "Sorry," he murmurs. "It's at the end of the hall on the left." I nod as I get up to leave, but he doesn't turn around. "Make sure you have your jacket."

I roll my eyes. "Always." In fact, I double back and stall an extra minute to put on the new jacket Lavi got me. No, it wasn't to get one more look at his chest (don't judge me; I'm a teenager). It really is comfy jacket, though…

Sadly enough, I get lost on the way to the bathroom. I go to the end of the hall like Lavi said, but end up looking between the two doors on either side of me in confusion. On one hand, we have the bathroom. On the other, we have a door that could very well reveal some deep secret Lavi's keeping…like a dead body.

Okay, maybe not a dead body, but the blankness and lack of life here makes this feel like a haunted house from one of those scary movies Cross watches that scar me for life…so much blood….

Sighing, I pick the door on my left. The metal is freezing from being near the outer wall of the house, only adding to the horror house effect. Slowly, I turn the handle that creaks loud enough to wake the dead body and peer in.

It's the bathroom. I don't know whether to be disappointed or not. Pushing down the desire to check the room behind me, I move into the bathroom and shut the door, locking it behind me. The dead body could've become a zombie by now. But if there's a ghost, I'm screwed.

I wait a few moments, straining my ears for any sounds before unbuttoning my pants.

+…+

There are a few moments in my life that leave me cringing in pain and asking myself, 'Did I really do something that stupid?' or 'Why the hell does the world hate me?' Prime example: the time Mana and Neah brought me shopping with them and a slipped a Playboy in the cart because I thought it was about videogames. Another is when a bird randomly crapped on my new shirt on my way to a new school then a car splashed me with water.

This incident takes the god damn cake, because there's nothing that screams 'the world hates your guts with a fiery passion stronger than hell' than your best friend's dad walking in on you in the bathroom.

Songs are "Life's Gonna Suck" by Dennis Leary, "How to Go" by School Food Punishment, "Sleepwalker" by Adam Lambert, "Carol of the Bells" by Descartes a Kant, "The Music or the Misery" by Fallout Boy, and the English opening of 'Yu-Gi-Oh.'

I love writing Cross. :) Hope he's not too OOC T^T

Thanks to all that review and fav/alert! Softball's starting up, so depending on how often practice is and my mindset, chapters may take a little longer. Also, my email's been weird and I haven't been getting reviews. I might have fixed it, but I'm not sure. Sorry if I don't respond back to a question. I'll try to check the reviews PM you.

Almost to the 100,000 word mark! 14 more reviews and this hits 150! Also, did you know harsh reviews are good for the soul?

UNBETAED