Another uneventful day. His throat still stinging from the events of last night. Her perfume still lingering on him. Jimmy had even asked if he had started up smoking. He could still feel her warmth wrapped around him.

It made Gary uneasy.

He tried to make himself not care. He wouldn't allow it.

Lola was just another stepping stone he would have to use in order to reach his goals. He couldn't let himself get wrapped up in someone like her.

It would be… sloppy.

Gary wasn't sloppy.

He wasn't sloppy. He wasn't sloppy. He…

Gary had to admit, it was a slow climb upwards. At least the nerds were making things interesting. The tensions between the nerds and the bullies were rising and Gary could only look upon the dismay with a smile.

Only thing was that those nerds kept calling him, 'valiant knight'.

He cringed at the thought.

Gary was ripped from his thoughts seeing something waved in front of his face. He blinked a few times before grabbing the appendage. Hearing a squeak, he looked down to a distraught Pete. "Sorry!"

"Petey, please, don't wave your hand in the face of a crazy person." He spat.

With that warning, Pete tried to pull his arm away from Gary before panicking. "I-I'm sorry Gary! Please, let go!"

With the magic word, he let go. Petey's frantic yanking made him fall into Jimmy's shoulder but Jimmy was nice and helped him right himself by shoving him towards Gary.

Pete finally found his footing before the two would toss him back and forth like those jocks and their love of balls.

"What are you losers doing later, anyways?" Gary said plainly. Petey and Jimmy were like flies on a decomposing body.

You couldn't find one without the other.

"Petey, Zoe and I are gonna see that new movie at the cinema. Janitor Massacre. We're gonna sneak in."

"We're sneaking in?" Petey practically shrieked and Jimmy nudged him, politely hinting to shut the fuck up.

Gary slid his jittery hands in his pockets, smirking to himself. "Thanks for inviting me, but I'm busy tonight."

"You weren't invited." Jimmy sneered.

"While you three are watching some dumb movie, I'm going to be-"

Gary thought for a moment, he didn't want to say plotting but then what came next spilled out of his mouth like an oil spill.

"-seeing a girl."

Gary stopped mid-step when he said this. Freezing in shock and fear of what came crashing out of his mouth.

The two boys kept walking until that word vomit reached them. And they came up to him, swarming him. He held his hands out. Partially to keep them from getting too close and the other half to hide his humiliation.

"Girl?!"

"Like a girlfriend? You? Are you sure you didn't use some kind of torture method?"

Gary groaned, rubbing his temples, letting out a exasperated sigh. "Not a girlfriend. Just a girl."

"Rats would be more interested in you." The redhead jabbed.

Gary clamped his mouth shut. Watching the two eagerly await whatever details he had.

Pathetic.

"Yeah well, you're both faggots."

Leaving the two practically begging for more information, he walked out of those iron gates.

He wanted to see her again. For his book. She took it. He had been too careless. Too trusting.

He stood where the underpass was. Checking his watch. It was dusk. No sign of her. But something seemed off. He continued into New Coventry, the overpass just out of view. And then, he heard a mewl. Thinking it to be a stray cat, he stopped and listened to his surroundings.

A moan. Then a groan. Then a weak, 'help'.

He poked his head into a dark alleyway, following the noise. Ducking inside. After a moment or two of squinting, he saw it.

A man on his side and a worn out pipe.

Wrong side of the tracks.

Gary knelt down, flipping the ruined Aquaberry sweater and bloody mess onto his back. From what he could tell, it looked like Gord. His natural good looks beyond recognition. Similar to how bruised the preppies would get after an intense round of boxing. But this was different.

Gary was definitely blessed by someone or something. He had won the bloodied lottery.

Gord's whole face was swollen. Ugly red and the beginnings of purple crept across his exaggerated features. It looked nasty.

Gary started slapping his face, trying to draw him out of his unconscious state. Perhaps too hard. Gary didn't mind. He was already fucked, why not pulverize him more?

And just like that, he was back. "Derby?" Gord lifted his head before smiling and lowering it again, "Oh, it's just a ghost."

"Keep it up and you'll turn into one, Gord."

When Gord heard this his body found a second wind. Enough energy to lift himself to try to sit. Gary held him as he faltered. He didn't want him to dash his head and die. Gary wouldn't get a reward if he died.

"Smith?"

"Look do you want my help or not?"

"It looks as though I might not have a choice in the matter." When he opened his mouth he could see old blood caked around his teeth and outlining every crevasse of his smile.

"Shut up. And quit trying to talk."

Gary helped the boy to his feet. Feeling Gord's legs instantly buckle from his weight. Gary slugged his arm over his shoulder and held his hip to his. The awkward angle made it hard to walk.

Gord hissed and groaned with every agonizing step.

"For a boxer you sure aren't good at dodging a lead pipe, huh?"

"No, afraid not. Vincent and his greaseball goons… They had the element of surprise. I was waiting for my tease and then... They pulverized me with that pipe. When they were through with that-"

"Kicked your ass?" Gary finished with a snort, "They sure did a number on you pal."

"Why of all the people in the world are you helping me?"

"You rather I let you of die in the gutter?"

"You probably would have. You don't have much of a heart."

Gord, punch drunk, his daily dose of iron pipe reached its absolute max, could still sense the underlying hostility emanating from Gary. He wasn't helping Gord from the kindness of his heart.

It was to rile up those greaseballs.

And for praise.

Gord looked at him through his good eye. Almost looking right into Gary's soul. Bloodshot and ugly.

"Lola is bad news."

Gary felt a knot form in his throat that was hard to swallow. Not looking away or showing any sense of wavering, he stared back. Fingers digging into his ribcage making Gord holler in pain.

"I wouldn't know. I'm not interested in some whore. Plus, haven't you learned your lesson yet?"

"I haven't, nor will I ever. She's so captivating and… slummy but I want to 'slum it' with her. She's so realistic. So, beautiful and real."

"So beautiful you would be beaten and left in a gutter to die?"

Gord romanced, rather obnoxiously. Trailing off. "Lola is a tease. She makes me lust for her in ways I never thought a young gentleman like myself could."

"Oh?"

"She might be some slum… well, poor person. But she's a goddess. Like Aphrodite. She's perfect."

Aphrodite was nothing compared to the Roman goddess Venus. If Lola was a goddess as Gord perceived she wouldn't be some Greek bitch. She'd be paying with blood.

As she might have with Gord.

"Goddess?"

"She's perfection. Her curves. Her taste. The way she… incites copulation-"

Gary groaned in disgust. Ready to drop the loser on the sidewalk. Maybe kick him a few times. Spit on him. And leave him where he laid.

"But, you're quite handsome. Where ever did you get that sweater?"

Even a stupid moron, bloodied to a pulp wouldn't dare hit on Gary.

"Derby will definitely hear about this. What you did for me Gary was truly out of the kindness of your heart."

He felt crusty, swollen lips brush against his cheek. Then Gary felt hot again. Ready to finish Gord off. He was annoyed.

"Don't mention it." He said through his teeth, hissing.

Gord's neck rolled before leaning into his shoulder. Feeling his breaths against his dress shirt. "You smell so familiar. So good. Fruity."

Within a few blocks, he could see those preppies. Hanging around the gym. More like the rich boxers haven to show off. He was in a close enough distance that the two were spotted. From what Gary could see, Bif and Tad's face contorted to shock and horror before rushing to the bruised and worthless Gord. They practically tore him off Gary, which Gary more than liked. He wiped away whatever filth and crusty blood had smeared on his vest.

Gord kept fading in and out.

Tad and Bif carried him into the Gym shoving away by standards with Gary close behind. Practically rubbing is hands in excitement.

They set him onto the floor, yelling at each other angrily to be gentle. To be calm. To be… to be…

At least he was breathing.

"Maybe you should have, like, brought him to the hospital, Gary!" Bif practically shouted at Gary, who at this point, just wanted the credit of helping. He got his hands dirty and now he wanted the rewards.

"He'll be fine. A little concussion never hurt anyone."

With all the commotion, Derby stepped out of the main office on the second floor. Spotting Gary first and then Gord's pathetic face.

"It was Lola wasn't it, Gord?" he bellowed, descending the stairs like the king of the rich boys would. With a dramatic entrance. "She's filth. Trash. The lowest common denominator. Look at you! Your Aquaberry vest ruined!"

Gord struggled to even turn his head. With a bit of strength, spouting. "I'm in love with that filth."

Derby's decent was sped up as he lifted the smaller boy by his collar, spitting. "Keep it up and you'll be unwelcomed here. My daddy will talk to your daddy and then you'll be nothing! Absolutely nothing and then you can 'slum it' with her the right way; by you not owning a single cent!"

Gord was like a ragdoll. And he was out again. All the excitement putting him back into darkness halfway into Derby's scolding.

He let go of Gord, watching him fall back with a thud. "Worthless piece of-" Derby eyed Gary. Mild shock. Mild amusement. But still outraged. "My, my, my. Look what we have here boys. A rat. My, it's been a long summer."

"Derby." Gary said with disdain.

"Smith."

"I found Gord, I did you a favor."

"I believe you did pick up the trash but," he circled him, watching the blue assholes stare, "as I remember, you were told to never come back here. If Gord were conscious, I would make it an example to not follow down your path."

"You owe me, you inbred trust fund scum."

Derby cracked a ten thousand dollar dental job smile at this. "Oh Gary, you've been sorely missed."

Gary felt above these bastards.

"It was Johnny Vincent and his gang. Beat him with a pipe. I'm leaving."

"Do come back again. We could teach you more about boxing and less about scraping up less deserving people out of the gutter. It might however, give you another scar. A horrid blemish."

"Fuck off Derby."

And with that, he threw open the doors.