Warnings: Swearing still happens. A lot in this chapter. And will probably be happening a lot in my author's notes. And this is also a pretty angsty chapter. (I felt like I needed a warning for that.)

Author's Note: Update! So, it's short. Any, my god, THE ANGST! Gah, my eyes, they burn! Such a lack of comedy! Okay, so, I guess I was in a weird mood, and this chapter happened. Yeah. And it's so damn angsty. Anywho, I was stressed, and when I'm stressed then shit happenes. Yeah. So, this was some of the shit that happened. Yeah. I feel like ending everything with 'yeah.' Yeah. Also, I was working on another fan fic for one of my friends for her birthday, and, well, her birthday was two weeks ago and I'm still working on that (which is why this is so short). And I have no idea why I did this to Travis, but it happened, so yeah. (I really have to find a better word then 'yeah.')

Disclaimer: I don't own anything/one but Travis. He is mine. He 's currently sewing me a new plaid shirt. Because I never have enough of those.

So here ya go (and sorry in advance...):


"Hello, my name's Travis, I'll be providing your entertainment this evening," Travis said with a smirk. He loved making that joke. Sadly, the two individuals in the back didn't seem to love it as much. He called people "individuals" when he didn't know what else to call them and still sound polite.

One of the individuals was just a teenager, but looked kind of scary. What was the word those kids used now? Goth? Emo? Travis gave up thinking about it, because it didn't really matter to him. Maybe the boy was just unfortunate enough to be born with extremely pale skin, black swishy hair, and a dark fashion sense. Who was he to judge? And the father, oh lord, that man was definitely weird. He also had black hair, but it looked greasy, and the area under his eyes reminded Travis of his shopping cart when his kids would come with him to Wal-Mart: Both had over-sized bags. Of course, his were of chips, which he was now craving. Especially the sour crème and onion ones. Those were good.

"Disneyland, thanks," the father said. Travis frowned.

"He means, 'Sir, would you please escort us to Disneyland in this fine vehicle.' Hell, he could have just said 'could ya take us to Disneyland,' and it still would have sounded a million times better," the son said.

"Since when did you speak so formally, B?" The father asked.

"If you spent more time with us then you'd learn a lot." Maybe the parents are divorced?, Travis thought.

"I do apologize for that, really. You know I have other business to attend to, though." 'Other business?' He treats his kid(s?) like business? What a douche. Travis' mind was now on his own kids. Did they think he treated them like so much business? What were their names again?….What was his name again?….Maybe he should lay off the alcohol for a while. But he didn't drink. Nor did he do drugs. Maybe he did drink. He really couldn't remember. All he could remember was a flash of red, yellow, and white, and feeling sad, and like he was in two places at once. He should probably see a doctor later. But, as quick as it had started, it faded away, and he even forgot all about his forgetfulness.

The two in the back had been switching between languages for a while, but Travis could understand them anyways. He wasn't sure how, but he could.

"They'll be fine until we get there," the father said.

"What if they're not? You're responsible for them, if they die then it's on you."

"Why do you hold concern for it all of a sudden?

"Because I'm not you, I'm human, so, call me crazy, but I don't want the people I grew up with to be found dead in a ditch somewhere."

"And the girl I found the room over?"

"She's different, she practically asked for it."

"She only tried 'flirting' a little, and wound up locked in a wardrobe all bloody and screaming."

"Well, it's not like she's dead. And it's all good now anyways."

"Thanks to my money."

"Don't act like some hero, you have more money then you could ever handle."

"Evidentially." And with that he raised an eyebrow. Wait….Travis squinted at the rear-view mirror. Did the man even have eyebrows? That's a first. The cab driver had seen some crazy people before, but none without eyebrows. Some with drawn on eyebrows, but fake is better than nothing. Except if "fake" means stuffing a bra. That's just not fair. Travis thought he remembered being disappointed when his first girlfriend did that, but, at the same time, he couldn't really remember anything too well at the moment. What was his name again?

The two kept bickering, then Travis' ears perked up from a familiar name.

"Just because Matt's in charge doesn't mean shit! He's still just a kid, you know!"

"I didn't raise you to use that kind of language."

"You didn't raise me at all! Not me, not Mello, not Matt. Hell, everyone knows Near's your favorite, and you barley raised him! Do you even know what his favorite colour is?"

"That's easy, white. It's pure, just like how he likes things."

"Not at all. Blue. His favorite colour is blue, because it reminds him of the ocean, where his parents fucking drowned. That's just fucked up, don't you think? That a kid has those thoughts. And it's because he doesn't know what to think, because he doesn't have anyone."

"He has you."

And the cab went silent.


Author's Note #2: So, I feel really calm right now, which is freaking me out a bit. I feel like I haven't said anything to creep you guys out yet, which is also freaking me out a bit because I always some something creepy.

Anywho, yeah, I'm starting to think Travis is a god. (If you're religious and easily offended then ignore that statement.)

So, you know what to do: Leave a review. (Dude, I rhymed O.O) I will love you forever and ever!

Right, I remembered what I was going to say: So, I've come to realize that there are people who have read this fic from the begining and are still reading it, and I'd like to tell you how awesome I think that it. So: I think it's awesome. But, seriously, I love it, you're all so cool, and amazing, and I love new readers, too, but I just want to say thanks for sticking with this for so long, through all the months of not updating, and the typos, and the terriblness. It's nice to come home from a totally stressful day and see that I have a review, because then I get really, really happy. I would marry you all if it was legal (and if I were less crazy and didn't scare all you away anyways O.o I seriously need to be in a relationship, I'm getting creepy O.o) (AND THERE IT IS! My creepy 'God I wish Rye wouldn't be so creepy to me because it ruins the story for me' moment of the day! Or, um, month...Whatever! In anycase: it's there! I now feel acomplished!)