Important author's warning (I'm serious, people, if you don't normally read author's notes! Read this!): This chapter gets more graphic than my others. To put it simply, there are drugs, okay? A character does cocaine. I'm telling you this now so if you don't feel you should be reading this kind of thing, then don't. I don't want to hear anybody telling me in a review how shocked they were that I had a character use drugs.

Also, I got the inspiration for the drug scene from a teen novel called "The Upper Class". Yes, I read teen novels. Call it a guilty pleasure.


Double D stood before the glowing, thumping building that was "Clancy's", the second hottest nightclub in town (next to "Deathley's"). In mere seconds, he would face the girl of his dreams. In just seconds, he could make a move that would determine how he would be spending the rest of his life. In pathetic little seconds, he would feel free to let love and fate run their courses.

Corny as that may sound.

He took a deep breath, summoning all his inner strength and pushed forward.

"Hold it," Double D looked up at the giant fourteen-foot-tall bouncer. He was a giant shark man, but this didn't fascinate Double D at the moment. "I need some I.D."

Double D flashed his driver's license and was let in. He looked around at the nightclub, observing the surroundings that would supply a story he would tell people for years to come. Blue, green, and pink neon lights flashed across the dance floor, which moved with hordes of people. Off to the sides were little rooms for VIP celebrities, bathrooms, and bars were the more meek people were sitting and watching the craziness. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and other types of smoke.

Of course, none of these details were important… because he just spotted Jenny.

"JENNY!" Double D shouted over the thumping music. He looked up and saw that a band was playing on a cramped stage. They were little animals for some reason.

Jenny waved and ran over to him, keeping in step with the music. Her paint job had been done in black, giving her a more elegant, night owl look. Double D loved it.

"You wanted to tell me some news?" Double D shouted over the music. He noticed some good-looking black haired guy with a toothpick was following Jenny. The way he was absentmindedly picking his teeth and putting his hand in his pocket, he didn't seem to care about (or notice?) the loud music.

"Yes!" Jenny was ecstatic and shiny. "I know it's loud, and a weird place to do it, but it fits the situation!"

Double D wondered why a dance club fit the situation but decided to go along with it. He nodded, prompting her to continue, praying she would say what he hoped, what he had been working so hard for…

"I'm…" Jenny took a dramatic pause.

For a robot, she's good with emotions and enthusiasm. And beauty. "Yes?!" Double D smiled with her.

"ENGAGED!"

Double D felt the smile run away from his newly blanched face. "What?" He mouthed, as the spoken words could not claw their way out. It wouldn't have mattered, though, the band seemed to have almost gotten louder, their beats out of sync and their guitar riffs choppy. The people around him suddenly seemed to move inhumanly, their dancing like feverish babies and their faces painted on (painted poorly, too. Who taught them to paint? The abovementioned babies?).

"To who?" Double D squeaked out.

"DANNY!" Jenny turned around and hugged the black-haired guy, who Double D realized only know was Danny Fenton, star of Danny Phantom.

"Hi," Danny waved to Double D behind the crushing hug.

"And you're invited to the wedding!" Jenny told Double D, as if this was best news since the engagement itself.

Double D simply stared at Jenny, open-mouthed and in total shock, fingertips numb. He wondered when Danny came into the picture, how he could possibly show up to this wedding, and what he had done wrong. Somehow he forced a disgustingly toothy smile and managed, "I'll be right back," and made a break for the bathroom (Jenny figured he was speechless with happiness and had to go tell his friends).

Once Double D had reached the bathroom, he simply held onto the door handle. How will this help me? Breaking down in front of puking drunkards in a public restroom? There's probably a reporter in there anyway.

Wait… he took a course on this! Yes, he remembers! How not to cry in public? Let's look over the ways:

1. Run cold water over your wrists. Well, I'm not going into the bathroom. So that's a no-go.

2. Drink cold water. If I go to the bar and try to speak, I may just break down. No…

3. Think about something else.

That seemed like the best option. But how could he possibly take his mind off this?!

Just when he thought he was finally going to throw the values of the class in the recycle bin of his mind, he looked to the side and saw a tight circle of people gathered around a little table. "What are you doing?" He was surprised at his own voice. He sounded tired.

The first girl in the group turned around to acknowledge him. She was a minor character on Teen Titans, he remembered. She was a pretty, naturally tan girl with a good figure, black leather skimpy clothing, and a curtain of glossy black hair. She giggled and wiped her nose. "You know."

Double D shook his head.

"We're having fun!"

Ding. "Can I try?"

She smiled and the grin looked menacing in the poor, dark lighting. "Sure!" She turned back to the group and whispered something, then back to Double D. "Yeah yeah, sure. Just lean down to the table, 'kay? Yeah, put your nose there… now party!"

----------

Double D whipped his head around in surprise. That was like, the hundredth person to bump into him that night! Where did these people come from anyway? And why were they in his house?! He gasped in shock. Were they lost? Crap, he hates that feeling. And he felt that way a bit right now, but he had no idea why.

Wasn't he here for some reason? Somebody? A girl! Right! What was her name? Where was she? Why was the room so pulsing?

He adjusted his hat. What the hell is that?! Oh yeah, his hat. He forgot. What was that?

He felt something drip from nose and figured he got a cold. But he wasn't cold. He sniffed and smelt the inside of his nose. It smelled like metal. That's strange. He swiped his hand under his nose and looked at it. But it wasn't gray or silver like most metals he had seen! It was- what was that color? It started the… color thing. Rainbows. When did this music start?! So annoying!

----------

Eddy looked at his Dr. Pepper. There was something wrong with it. It was so sweet. The high fructose corn syrup that lined the very BUBBLES of the drink rose to the top when Eddy lightly hit the bottom of the bottle on the top of the counter. He had been playing this game for a half-hour now. It was starting to bore him.

He looked around at the bar. It was very typical; it was not a fancy bar that scored the A-list celebrities, but it was no smoky little rat's den (Eddy realized this must be the hundredth time he's thought this to himself). It was relatively neat and the lighting was just right for a bar (which means not very good). Ami and Yumi, side by side as usual, strummed a catchy acoustic jingle on the cramped stage. Peter Griffin and his friends, one of which was in a wheelchair, were hustling Arnold and Gerald from Hey Arnold, and doing it very poorly (their two opponents were not convinced and may be too young to be in the bar anyway). The pretty redhead Jean Grey and red-glasses-clad Scott Summers, both of whom were tipsy, were trying to mug Hammy, the adorable squirrel from Over the Hedge (before someone pointed out to them that squirrels have no pockets and therefore little to no money).

"Do you not have something better to do?" Jack, the bartender (he's also a samurai! Who knew?) and owner of the bar, looked at Eddy and absentmindedly wiped a glass clean and shiny with a white cloth (Jack wasn't quite sure of the significance of this if the glass was already clean, but someone had told him that that's what the bartenders do in movies before they give out advice, and he had some tips to give right now).

Eddy thought this should be considered a rude comment, but Jack's tone was calm, collected, and void of emotion, so he excused Jack for this and even answered the question. "No. I don't. Anything else you'd like to ask me?"

"Tell me, honestly. Are you wasting your time in my bar because you'd prefer to dwell on your lost job than help your friends?"

A loud beeping interrupted Eddy just when he opened his mouth and held up his finger. "Hold that thought!" Eddy had a text message. He looked at his message inbox. One was a couple hours old and was from his agent, Matsui. Eddy decided that it could wait, despite the fact that the seven hundred and ninety nine word text message contained the phrase "CALL ME ASAP" five times. The other was the one he got just now, from Double D.

From Double D:

g4 ddeee3 88w9w9dg

What the HELL? Eddy sent Double D a message back.

Your Message:

what is wrong with u?

He tapped his foot and waited for Double D's message.

From Double D:

dmonm8 j6nw ndde 8 2 b6me 74b5 md t7

Eddy rolled his eyes and put his cell phone away. There must be something wrong with Double D's cell and he didn't realize it. Eddy turned back to Jack. "I'm sorry. Where were we?" He sat down and clasped his hands together. "As I recall, you were about to fill the role of 'cliché bartender with a heart of gold' and were about to, oh, I don't know, give me this drink for free?"

"Would you like some advice?" Jack said.

"Sure, if it's free."

"Go find your friends."

"You're weird. But you know what, I think I will. Thank you, cliché bartender with a heart of gold." He walked out of the bar, waving goodbye to any friends he passed before Jack called him back to pay for his drink. But for some reason, the samurai let him get away with it.

Eddy slowly strolled, home his Point B. He pondered Jack's advice. What did Jack mean anyway? Go see Double D? Nah… Double D's busy. He wouldn't want me interrupting anything… heh. Yeah. 'Interrupting anything.' Eddy passed by the cupcake shop and slowed his pace for a second to look in. Wait. Or would he?

Eddy stopped and looked straight ahead. Going further down that barren street this cool night would mean he was simply going home, obeying his original plan. Turning around would mean he would go see if Double D needed help on his date. Why am I even debating this? I'm hungry. I want a TV dinner. And I want it NOW. Double D's not in diapers, he can handle it himself. If this was so true, why couldn't Eddy shake this weird feeling? Could he predict the future or something? Oh, that'll get me a TV show!

Eddy's growling stomach fought with his head. And it was obvious who the winner was, upon his turning around and making tracks towards Deathley's Nightclub.