Are we growing up or just going down?
It's just a matter of time until we're all found out.
Take our tears, put 'em on ice,
Cause I swear, I'd burn the city down to show you the light.
"Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the Year" Fall Out Boy

When the clock struck six PM, Christian Thomas Davis had never been more nervous in all his life. Well, maybe that time when he was doing that huge piano recital in front of the college scouts in his junior year—but other than that, yeah, he was pretty nervous.

When he'd met Sophie and went on the first date with her, it was all so easy. He'd already known her for a long time, they'd met through peer counseling, they knew enough about each other for it to not be difficult. Other than that, he really hadn't had a serious relationship with another girl, nor had he cared for one. Sure, he'd had the occasional one night stand, but that was never really something he was proud of or cared for the outcome of.

Shirtless, he was standing in the middle of Roger's room, rifling through his brother's closet in search of something to wear. "God dammit, man, I haven't done this in so freaking long," he growled, checking for stains on a striped shirt of Roger's. "I don't even own anything nice anymore—and if I did, I bet it's at the bottom of the most covered up box in this place."

Roger emerged from an adjoined part of his room, holding up a brown jacket wordlessly. He remembered when Christian moved in at the end of November, how many boxes he didn't have. He'd sold almost everything he owned, as well as the house, which didn't have as much property value as he'd wished. Though it was a big house, and a nice one at that, the value had gone very far down since he'd bought it.

The money he made from it granted them rent for at least four months, along with plentiful money for food. Needless to say, they weren't going to be worried about funds for a long time.

As of now, the only thing that worried Christian was what he was going to freaking wear. "Okay, coat is fine, but Roger, I need some actual clothing!" he walked over to his brother and placed his hands on the other man's shoulders, shaking. "Do you understand me?"

Roger laughed and nodded, saying "Yes" and walking over to the closet. "Well, I'm sorry, I haven't exactly been dating lately either, as you can imagine... never really did, either. I mean, Mimi more or less asked me out... or, rather, came through the window and shoved her tongue down my throat—April was part of the Well Hungarians, and every other chick really didn't matter much, I just banged her for kicks." His smile grew as he proceeded through the speech, and Christian smiled back.

Because Christian had known Roger his entire life, watched him grow, he was happy with the man Roger had become at twenty-four years of age. Though his brother had seen too much in his life, he had clearly grown wiser, and Christian could see Roger had grown out of his rocker days. Ever since April killed herself, Roger was wiser. Ever since Mimi had passed, Roger took less things for granted.

"Wear this, Chris," Roger called from inside of his closet, and threw a button-down grey shirt over his shoulder. Christian, only clad in his neat and holeless jeans, pulled the shirt over his shoulders and smiled, nodding.

"Alright... this'll work. Jacket, shirt, pants... I need some shoes."

"You don't have shoes? What about all those club days you had back in your old house?" Roger exclaimed, eyes widened at his younger brother.

"I wanted to end my clubbing days... I threw all of that shit out, man." Christian sighed and got on his knees in the closet, searching for a pair of nice shoes. "Boots... boots... sandals... boots... that's it. God damn, Roger, what do you wear?"

"I'm sure Mark has a nice pair of loafers you can borrow," Roger cracked, grinning, but Christian took him seriously.

His shirt half-buttoned, Christian exited the bedroom and entered the kitchen. "Mark!" He shouted, cupping his hands over his mouth.

He didn't notice that Mark was sitting on the couch, right near where he was screaming. "...Yeah?"

Chris pivoted, and then blushed. "Oh, sorry. Heh. Right... um, do you have a pair of shoes that I can wear on this date I have tonight?"

"Ooh, date for the C-Man... good to hear it, Chris," Mark smiled and stood, walking toward his room. "Yeah, what are you looking for?"

Christian followed Mark into his bedroom, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know, something that doesn't make me look like a total loser who has nothing acceptable to wear to a nice date with a pretty Italian girl," he shrugged. "Translation: something that's not a pair of boots."

Mark laughed, "I see you've already been through Roger's closet, then."

"Yeah."

There were a few more moments of silence where Mark shifted various things out of the way in his closet, throwing box after box of film reels out of the way to come out with a pair of black shoes, not too dressy, but clearly not used every day. Christian smiled graciously and produced a pair of socks from his jeans pocket, shoving them on his feet and then jamming the shoes on after. "Tight fit, but I'll do it," Christian grinned, and then nodded his head toward Mark. "Thanks, Markie."

"No problem, Christoph," Mark replied, and followed Christian out of the room. "So, who's the girl?" he asked conversationally as the two reentered the kitchen area of the loft. Mark walked over to the coffee machine and poured himself a cup, and Christian sat at the island and finished buttoning his shirt.

"Her name's Evelina," when he spoke her name, an involuntary smile climbed upon his lips and stayed there, and Mark nearly dropped his coffee.

"Evelina...?"

"I don't know her last name," Christian admitted sheepishly. "I just met her today for a second, she said she was on the way to a family shindig."

"... we must not be talking about the same Evelina, then," Mark shook his head. "I know an Evelina, Evelina Castellano, she used to work at Buzzline, she wrote a few scripts for us. She quit after her mother died, who was apparently the last family she had left, she was a nice woman. She doesn't have much money, apparently. Young, petite, black hair, eyes bluer than mine—"

"You just described Eva," Christian gasped, his gaze locking with Mark's. "That's exactly what she looks like, and Evelina isn't that common of a name." He tapped his foot, in thought. "But why would she lie about something like that? Maybe... she already has a boyfriend and... no, why would she ask me to call her? This makes no sense."

"Well, I don't know, people have reasons," Mark shrugged. "She was a mess when her mom died, apparently she was really close with her... and that was the last person she had. It was sad."

"Christian! You were supposed to be out of here five minutes ago!" Roger cried from his bedroom, and Christian nearly fell off the stool he was sitting on. "You'd better get your ass running to the Life if you don't want to be considered a loser who's late for the first date!"

"I'm going!" Christian smoothed out his shirt and then bid Mark goodbye, and called a thank-you to Roger. "I'll be back before curfew!" he joked, and the last sound he heard was Roger's whooping laughter when he left the building.

He nearly ran down the streets, dodging the busybodies of Alphabet City, and then finally entered the Life Café. He did a short search of the room for Evelina, and when he found her, she was sitting at a table, sipping an ice water from a straw, looking patient.

He alerted the waiter that he was going to be joining the party of one, and surprised her when he sat down across from her. "Hey, I'm so sorry I'm late, I had to steal shoes from my brother's friend, and—"

"Hey, hey, it's fine," she smiled sweetly, "I'm just always early, and I don't think you're late, either." She looked at her watch. "Yeah, see? Six ten, the date wasn't even until six fifteen. You're early, too." She smiled again, and Christian felt himself melt again. She was wearing a simple black tee, with dark washed jeans and the same black shoes she'd been wearing today. She looked like a million bucks, even though Mark claimed she wasn't worth near that.

"Alright, so." She began, stirring her water with her straw, "Tell me a bit about yourself."

Christian whined. "Why do I have to go first?"

She stuck out her tongue, "Because I asked first."

He grinned. "Alright... well. Where do I start?"

"At the beginning?"

"Ha-ha, very funny. Alright, well, my name is Christian Davis, and I'm twenty-one. Uh... I have an older brother named Roger, and a niece named Leah. Uh... let me put this out here now; I am incredibly poor. We live in that old industrial loft on the corner of eleventh and Avenue B, the one that looks like it's going to fall at any second. I live there with Roger and his friend, Mark Cohen, and their other friend, Tom Collins."

"Mark Cohen! I used to work with him," Eva's sapphire eyes lit up. "Buzzline. We always joked about how much the place sucked," she smiled broadly. "He's a good guy. And you live with him?"

"Yeah, him, Roger's brother, Collins, and Mark's girlfriend, Sophia. And... our friends Maureen and Joanne basically live there as well. It gets really, really loud in that place..." he rubbed his temples. "Uh, what else?"

"Hobbies?" she shrugged.

"Oh, right. Well... I used to play piano. Still do, I guess. My entire family's musically inclined, I guess. Roger used to play guitar for the Well Hungarians, if you remember them at all."

"I remember them, definitely. I used to love them. They were big until... wow, whatever happened to them?"

"I'm not sure," Christian lied, figuring that if Roger wanted her to know about April's suicide, she'd have to tell her himself. "And... my little sister used to play a wicked violin, it was crazy."

"Oh, it's a shame she quit."

Quit. It was funny how people tried to be helpful in conversations, try to follow and be kind, and yet they hit the nerve that hurts the most. Christian controlled his breathing and stared down at the Splenda packets next to him, heaving a sigh. "Well, she didn't have much of a choice, actually... she died," he admitted.

Telling someone about Ollie's death was sort of like blowing out all the candles on a birthday cake at once; you succeed without pain, and yet when you were done you were left out of breath and a bit dazed.

"Oh, my God, Christian, I'm so sorry," Eva whispered, putting her hand on top of his. "I really didn't mean to do that, God, I'm sorry—" she put her head down. "I know how you feel, I'm really sorry I did that. Let's change subjects—let's talk about me."

"It's okay, Eva," Christian admitted, looking up and offering a smile. Her hand felt warm on his, and oddly, it wasn't awkward—it felt right. So, as they sat there, and she spoke, they kept their hands clasped.

"Well, I'm Evelina Castellano, I just turned twenty-one last week. And..." she heaved a sigh. "I've got no family," she admitted, looking down, just as Christian had done when he spoke of Ollie's death.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Christian said gently, leaning in closer toward her. "So... the family shindig—"

"A party I was invited to, my friends hosted it. I call them my family because I've really got no one else to call that." She shrugged. "It's not too big of a deal—I know people who have worse," she sported a smile and looked into Christian's eyes. "And don't even ask me about hobbies... I've got a grand total of, like, nothing. Reading. I love to read, and... be outside. That's it."

"Well, that's better than nothing."

The waiter came at that moment, and they each ordered something to eat, continuing to chat as they did so. Christian couldn't help but notice how different this girl was from all the others; she was honest, she was nice, she was beautiful. She was perfect for him, as far as she was concerned. But he wasn't going to move to fast and blow it.

The night came to an end, something that Christian was dreading. And as they stood in front of the Life Café, staring into each others' eyes happily, Christian leant in and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Goodnight," he smiled, and she smiled back.

"Goodnight," she echoed.

A/N: I don't know why, but this chapter came so much easier to me than all the others. Anyway, soon we shall be out of the land of Christian and Evelina and enter one more exciting... at least I'm hoping.

And I'm SORRRRRRRY if Evelina seems like a Mary-Sue, I swear her lack of family is the only thing that's wrong with her. That's IT. I will NOT create a Mary-Sue out of her.

By the way, if you're reading this, PLEEEAAAASE review. I got like... three reviews for the last chapter, and twenty four people have it on alerts! And I know who's not reviewing... ;)

–Steph.