Again I apologize for the long waits between updates; I've just been having one hell of a summer. Canada Day involved me and my friend Jordan on a drug binge-2CB, 2-CC then 2CB again. I've been partying, raving—which involved MDMA and MDPV and other such things. Wow, I have a hard time to find…time, but for this story I'll do it no matter what. I am SO pathetically committed to HC you would now believe. And oh my God! On Sunday I went to Heavy MTL Fest in Montreal where I saw Children of Bodom, Morbid Angel, Anthrax, Opeth, Motorhead and KISS. IT WAS AMAZING, ORGASMIC! Next CoB concert I hit up I'm finding out how to be a groupie [Alexi, Janne and Henkka ;D] Anyways please keep reviewing, it's my lifeblood!

~~Mick~~!

Disclaimer: Nope Phineas and Ferb STILL aren't mine. Not Dust In The Wind by Kansas either…

I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moments gone

All my dreams pass before my eyes, a curiosity

Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind

Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea

All we do crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see

Dust in the wind, All we are is dust in the wind

August 2009

The beginning of the end became eminent when on one of the first days in August—one of our first days back in LA from Canada—a letter arrived. It sat on Buford's coffee table in a discrete white envelope bearing a Geffen Records label. "What's that letter anyways?" Vanessa asked, pressing the paper between her violet fingernails. "It's been sitting here since yesterday…"

"Huh" Buford swiped the curious package from the brunette's dainty hands and roughly opened it up. "Dear Isabella; In regards to the letter you sent about…" The drummer trailed off and continued reading in awed silence.

"Well, what the fuck is it?" Baljeet snapped, Buford wordlessly passed the Indian the letter. Hazel irises brightened with what I thought seemed like sadist pleasure. "Shit."

I got the paper after Mason and Vanessa had finished reading it. My eyes flew down the page and I couldn't bear to process half of it in my cracked out state. "W-what? What is this?"

"It's a fucking letter Isabella wrote to Geffen in regards to Ferb going fucking solo." Mason said as calmly as he could manage. "That bitch has got to go."

"N-no" I stammered "He can't leave."

"And why the fuck not Phineas?" Jeet squealed, jarring a motorcycle booted foot into my ankle. "We'd be fine without 'im."

"You two argue like a married couple" The man of the conversation strode in; a scowl on his rosy kiss-swollen lips and his old brown Bomber jacket hanging half off the arch of his shoulders. "So just fucking get hitched already" Not a soul dared laugh, I threw Ferb the letter. His eyes—the pupils dilated so much that they nearly eclipsed the emerald—summed up what was written. "What the fuck is this."

"You know bloody well what it is Ferb." Mason spoke evenly, beady irises locked in combat with ever-flowering jades. "Your she-bitch wants somethin' better for you so she shared her views with Geffen, not Sedgwick of course. Speaking of Paul he will flip a nut when he hears about Isabella's little stunt, so I'd get prepared to find a new journalist to pork."

"No. She wouldn't do that. Izzy knows what the fans want and she knows that they want our music. Ours, not mine." He shook his unwashed head of mossy waves.

"You idiot" Baljeet snarled "The fans don't come for the music at all anymore. They come to watch you go insane. The Highlighters stopped being about the music a long ass while ago. And you know whose fucking fault that is? Yours Ferb."

Ferb Fletcher was at a total loss of words for the first time in ages. "Izzy wouldn't do that" Despite how much I detested the girl I held my doubts too. Having overheard Mason, Baljeet and Buford scheming only a few weeks beforehand I wondered where the truth truly lied. Ferb cocked his head to the floorboards "Can you come keep me company Phin?" I followed like an eager lap dog, Jeet looked thoroughly disgusted. And who could blame him.

TTTT

Until that point dropping Acid had never meant anything to me. But after locking ourselves up in Buford's bathroom and tripping for hours on end my perception was altered. "Do they really only come to see me go nuts?" Ferb spoke airily while twining his stick arms in sensuous swirls of flesh. "Has our music really stopped reaching people?"

Before my eyes were a landscape of spirals; I stared mesmerized. "Yes"

The singer broke out in sobs and leaned his gentle throat back. I watched him blankly. He hadn't shaved in awhile; tiny green hairs poked up all over his face in a careless fashion much like Kurt Cobain's. His skin itself held no luster; it looked almost corpse like. The delectable beauty marks marking his skin are drops of brown velvet. "Why can't you lie to me?" He choked, I wished I had. I wished I could take away all of his pain and lay it across my back like an iron barbell. Only Ferb was his own poison and nobody could wrench from him the way he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. "We've gotten too high Phin. I was right earlier; space is for stars man. Not people."

I'd never heard anything truer. "If I could make this all disappear Ferb I would."

"WHY?" He suddenly shrieks, I jump back in horror. "Can you ever imagine living a normal bloody nine to five life after this? We have fame or we die Phin, that's how it is."

"I'm sorry." That was all it took. Ferb straddled me and started to pommel my cheeks and chest with surprisingly brutal punches. Before I realized it I was a broken mess and he'd gone. My mind still tripped and pulsed in a kaleidoscope. Glaring into a mirror was the last thing I should've done; my entire body was covered in matted blood; face smeared, hair dried in chunks.

"Oh my God" Baljeet stripped his jean jacket off and wrapped it around me; somehow I'd lost my t-shirt and shredded it bare handedly in the time I'd been alone in the washroom. LSD was awful when a bad trip settled in. "He did this to you. Again. Fucking Christ Phineas." Chapped ruby lips pressed against my collar. Jeet took my chin in his darker skinned hand and leveled his eyes with mine. "That's what it is about Ferb; he's stubborn as hell and refuses to back down, kind of like someone else I used to know." Me. Of course he was talking about me.

Instead of embracing the delicate rhythm guitarist I shoved him away and sneered. "Shut up Jeet"

"NO!" He yelled straight back and pushed my stomach with a fist adorned with glam rock rings and a fingerless glove. "Fuck you Phin. Ferb is never going to love you, stop taking shit from that little prick! Grow a goddamn backbone, maybe have some willpower. You do that or you'll fade into his shadow forever. So fuck you Phin, get your fucking priorities figured out!"

I may not have loved or adored him but Baljeet's anger was endearing. "Alright."

"W-what?" The Indian seemed taken aback at my blatant-ness.

"Alright. From here on out Ferb Fletcher doesn't exist." It hurt to say those words and yet at the same moment it was freeing, I smiled. Jeet grinned, he kissed me hard and for once I kissed him back with fire. It felt good to hold all the cards.

Mid August 2009

August 16th; I'd ignored Ferb for days and days. He, Baljeet, Buford and Mason got into countless fights but I stayed out of it. Rather than argue with him I acted as if he didn't exist. The Highlighters were falling apart at the seams; that was easy to see. Ferb and Baljeet mutually despised eachother, Buford hated me for stealing Jeet from him and Mason thought we were all a pile of drug addicted twits. The single common bond for everybody was that we resented Ferb deeply. We cast him out, we made him a nothing. Ferb thought everyone was against him since the beginning and now that we all really were I saw it taking a toll. His state of inebriation became endless; more vodka, more heroin, anything to get him away from the icy fronts we all sported. The Rolling Stones tore down Brian Jones and The Sex Pistols wrecked Sid Vicious. Just like our predecessors The Highlighters destroyed Ferb Fletcher.

The Documentary

I sat with my eyes glued to the computer screen.

"Hello, Marty Anderson here for the University of California. Only a week ago Paul Sedgwick and co-manager Mason Donnelley allowed me to bring a camera crew to the apartment shared by Buford Von Stomm, Baljeet Patel, Phineas Flynn and anti-star extraordinaire Ferb Fletcher. I stayed for a few hours but the footage I got captures a lot more than I thought it would. Early videos of The Highlighters—just a year ago-show a band of energetic boys playing the music they adore. What I have here is what four young men have become. I'm warning viewers now that everything you see here is at its rawest and this is not recommended for a young audience."

Before then I hadn't seen the film. It started off showing Martin Anderson knocking on the apartment door. Buford answered; his coal dark hair for once clean, his stubble removed. "Camera crew's here!" He called back to whomever was in the homestead at that time.

Baljeet peeked his head out from the couch, obviously blazed on cocaine. "Hi!" The camera zoomed in on him "I'm Baljeet!"

"Martin Anderson, but call me Marty" The man—no older than any of us—smiled doggishly "Is it alright if I interview you individually?" The drummer and guitarist nodded in sync; helplessly best friends. "But first I'd like to get a shot of the other two…"

Baljeet looked uneasy at that point "Cops gonna see this?"

"No, this is a strictly internet documentary. I'm doing it as a social study project. Why?" Marty questioned, the cameras swung around in a search for Fern and I. Jeet shrugged and gestured for the team to follow him. He rapped on the bedroom door.

"What?" Came my annoyed reply.

Baljeet rolled his eyes at my aggravation and opened the door regardless. "Ladies and gents my moody boyfriend Phineas Flynn" Coke ringed my nostrils; I sniffled and waved to the camera.

Marty's crew didn't stay focused on me one minute before he asked inevitably "Where's Ferb?" Having not talked to him for nearly I month I wouldn't dare lead them to him. Buford sighed, Jeet and I dragged on behind the lot of them. Ferb was in the bathroom on a smack binge. Beneath the fluorescent lighting and multiple lenses he became a zombie; dried snot above his mouth, a cigarette hanging loosely. "Marty Anderson with California U, pleased to meet you Mr. Fletcher."

"Uhh" Ferb smirked warily "It's just Ferb mate"

I skipped through around twenty minutes of film; merely interviews with Baljeet, Buford, Mason and I until I reached Ferb's say. I pressed play and watched eagerly; for the first few moments of Ferb's interrogation I'd been in the room but beyond that I was clueless.

"So—and this is the question on ALL of our minds—are you going solo Ferb?" Marty chewed the cap of a blue pen.

Ferb looked awful, he laughed tearfully and wiped his dripping nose "Maybe when one of us…"

I sat beside him on the couch and managed to choke out a whimpering cackle of my own "He says maybe-maybe when one of us dies." I finished his depressing train of thought bitterly. At that point I excused myself and left.

"In your opinion Ferb, how are The Highlighters doing as of late?" Marty sure knew how to pry.

"I just need a break…" Ferb answered softly, indirectly "But they never were fond of me."

I stopped the movie there.

Late August 2009

Ferb Fletcher; Letting The Highlighters Unravel

Fletcher is Losing It

The Highlighters; Your Everyday Dysfunctional Family

Fletcher Discovered on Heroin Binge

Ferb Fletcher Going Solo?

Fletcher Considering Leaving The Highlighters

Ferb Fletcher; Possible Drug Charges?

The Highlighters; Not People You Want Your Kids to Look Up to

"Every time I leave a lion pack of reporters jump on me. I can't go anywhere" Ferb spoke to me with the obvious fear of rejection.

I couldn't do it any longer; I swung towards him and cried. He held me equally as tightly as I held him. Before shit went bad and we splintered like decaying wood. "I'm sorry Ferb, I'm so fucking sorry." It wasn't about his bad traits; it was about all the fun we'd had together. Nights sleeping in the same bed, with the covers pulled up to our chins whispering and dreaming of ways to be better than small-town Danville, to be superstars in a faraway land. Day's dicking around, acting like our dreams had already come true and we fucking ruled the world. And that time, somewhere near sunset where reality would set in and we'd realize that hey, it was okay to just be two frantic and completely lost boys, to be Phineas and Ferb. We didn't have to rule the world, because we had each other. "I'm sorry Ferb"

Ferb stared me in the eye—all was forgiven—but I knew I was too late.

Don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky

It slips away, all your money won't another minute buy

Dust in the wind, All we are is dust in the wind

"The public is wonderfully tolerant. It forgives everything except genius."— Oscar Wilde