A/N: Attention!! ATTENTION!

When "The Real Aftermath" comes to a close, I may have another DxG story that starts from way-back-when (the start of the whole series), and there's going to be this massive DxGxC triangle, so drama ensues throughout the whole thing. Tell me what you think in the reviews section [shit I sound like ShaneDawson xD].

Trixie and Drew put these permission slips on the table as I was working on an article for the paper (it was a story on America's unhealthy obsession with The Jersey Shore…something I've always wanted to express my hatred about).

I glanced up at them as Trixie put a pen on the tabletop. "Can you sign them?"

I got the pen, clicked it, and started signing when Drew announced, "We're watching E.T. after the standardized tests or somethin'."

I froze up. "What?"

"Yeah. Everyone's watching it. Usually for like, the third time."

To induce some guilt onto me, Trixie said, "And the kids whose parents don't agree with the movie choice will have to go to another room to do work."

As much as I didn't want to, I gave my consent. I handed them back the slips and said, "Hand them in, I guess…"

Trixie smiled conceitedly and skipped to her backpack to put the slip in there.

Clearly concerned that the kids will be screaming all through the night, I finished up my article quickly ("…this show must be cancelled immediately." Worst ending ever written) and sat on the couch, ordering Cage the Elephant videos on demand and drinking a bottle of water. Afterwards, I just went out to the pizza shop on the corner – I never really went in there, I usually just ordered stuff from the window. It wasn't like a drive-thru…it was more like a walk-thru. It faced the sidewalk, and it was a convenience to hungry, drunken idiots on New Year's Day. All you had to do was walk up, get a slice of pizza and leave.

I never dared go inside – this city's pretty fucking scary. I've always been frightened of possible gangs anywhere I go. It's just a fear that grew on me, probably from watching crime dramas. I taught myself to always be skeptical – now I'm just paranoid.

I went inside – it was totally empty. I got a pie for dinner, maybe because I was feeling lazy as hell.

I remembered we ran out of Coke, so I decided to get two liters of that.

I then brought it home and put it on the table. Just in the nick of time, Duncan was coming up in the drive. He had on these fucking-awesome aviator shades I pressured him to get.

He turned to me and asked, "You didn't make anything?"

"No. I feel like shit."

"Oh, God. What happened?"

"Uh…the kids are apparently watching E.T.? Like, irony, right?"

He merely blinked. "…if they have fucking nightmares, you're dealing with it."

"Yeah. I know. It's totally my fault."

"Wha-?"

"Trixie sent me on a guilt trip."

"Oh..."

"That didn't scare me at all!"

Drew entered the door triumphantly and put his homework on the coffee table. Trixie followed, nodding.

"He…he wasn't creepy?" I asked, hoping to provoke some feeling. "At all?"

Drew shook his head. "Nope."

"I don't see what's so scary about it," Trixie smiled, and started writing down her name on her assignment. "It's a slimy, sweet alien. Big whoop."

"Just you wait." I said to myself.

++++++++Drew's Perspective++++++++

I grabbed my book and began reading, thinking of why Mom never let us watch that movie. I shrugged it off, read a few pages, and went to sleep.

A few minutes later, I felt something poke my back. Oh my God. He's real.

I yelped, sat up, and armed myself with the closest thing – a pencil I used earlier to finish up my math.

In the darkness, I heard a recognizable voice comment, "Jeez, Drew, I was just wondering if you stole my diary."

Oh. The diary. With my heart still pounding against my ribcage, I grabbed the journal and handed it off to her. She stared at me, offended, and as she stormed out the door, I called after her, "I call best man at you and Troy's wedding."

She slammed the door, rattling a few items my dresser, but I shrugged it off and fell back asleep after about an hour of simply staring out at the window. It was shut – the black blinds totally stopped any light that tried to come in. I didn't know what I was waiting for.

I woke up, looking totally disheveled. My black hair looked absolutely destroyed, and there was slight darkness under my eyes. I woke up early – I didn't get sleep either way. Dad was already out, and Mom was still asleep, so I decided to try coffee. It perks people up pretty well.

I grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured a bit of coffee in. I sipped it – and it was terrible. I imagined rocks tasting like this, but not a drink that every adult American drinks.

What do they put in this? Milk, sugar, all that. I grabbed the milk, put in enough to make the dark coffee a light brown, and added all the sugar I could.

They put in foam, too. All we had was whipped cream, so…might as well try that.

I drank it all, and it tasted like a sugar factory exploded in my mouth. I could hardly taste the coffee anymore – now it was all milk and cream and sugar. It was like an ice cream sundae…without the ice cream.

It tasted somewhat nasty, actually. I ended up pouring the disgusting mixture down the drain. I decided to watch TV until Mom usually came down – there wasn't even anything on. It was all Family Matters reruns from NickNite. I turned that off, and decided to crash on the couch.

++++++++Gwen's Perspective++++++++

I woke up to the sound of Trixie walking calmly down the stairs. I decided to get up, get dressed so I could head off to work in an hour, and I did my makeup.

I walked downstairs to see Trixie poking a sleeping Drew. His eyes fluttered open, I shooed her away, and I asked, "…Drew? You okay?"

"I got almost no sleep," he groaned. "Came here. Tried coffee—"

"Wait," I stared at him. "You tried coffee?"

He nodded. "It's not good."

He then fell right back asleep. "Yeah, you can't go to school."

Trixie stared at me. "He can. Believe me, he can."

I shrugged, and decided to finish up my articles and email them to the editor from my house while Drew slept. Trixie dashed out the house, and as Drew stumbled upstairs, I asked, "How come you didn't get any sleep, anyway?"

"I dunno…I just couldn't fall asleep…" he sighed, and then dropped into his bed. Before I left, he asked, "Can you do me a favor?"

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Can you shut that window to my left?"

I looked at the window. It was wide open. I nodded, shut the blinds, and closed the door. "Get some sleep."

I worked on the newspaper, occasionally calling Duncan while Drew slept.

"Hey, Duncan?"

"Gwen, what's up?"

"Drew didn't get sleep worth shit…"

"Oh, God. Is he home?"

"Yeah. He even tried coffee."

To anger me, he started laughing hysterically.

"It's not funny!"

"Sorry, sorry…well, is he okay?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure if he has insomnia or what…"

"Oh, well…are you working on the paper at home?"

I nodded. "Mm-hm."

"Okay. Well, call me later, okay?"

I nodded. "Alright."