Jade green glow swooped down, hovered, up again, flipped and spun, dipped and finally landed on a landscape of tattoos.

'Great job, Three Joe! You make for a blue ribbon winning gift wrapper.' Roman leaned back on his elbows, legs sprawled, glimmering embarrassed eighth note shining in his hair, bright as the onyx colored present wrapping paper.

Intrigued glance over his shoulder, his hair twin, mane brother.

'What'd you get?'

Ink went up in the shoulder shrug. 'Some pin up girl art books. Both vintage-retro AND biker chick versions.'

Seth grinned. 'News is my boyfriend can't read.'

'That's why I bought him picture books.' Roman quipped and Seth laughed, music note tumbling over his bleached hair streak. 'Hey, what's it doing?'

Roman observed quietly. 'You've ever seen children on the swings at a playground?'

'Ah, of course.' Seth glanced nearly cross eyed to watch Three Joe's acrobatics. 'Don't use me as a toilet , okay?'

Three Joe shimmered and squeaked.

'It's cool, Threej likes you.'

'Popularity doesn't bother me, it's having my scalp turned into a urinal that does.'

'Nothing to fret about. Besides the bathroom's loaded with towels.' Roman stated, clapped his hands to call the music note back to him, smiled at Seth's frequent chuckles.

' In case of emergency.'

'Yeah. And what did YOU buy?'

'Nothing.'

'Nothing? Okay, what did you STEAL?'

'Nothing.'

'No birthday gift for your cray-cray lover? Lies don't fall out of your mouth very well, Cheese.'

'I have something from our youth, that I kept, it's special. That'll be his gift.'

'Great!'

'Just tell me if he likes it, okay?'

'You're sitting out the party? I think he wants us there, we're invited, you especially, bad boy in the sack.'

' Nice compliment, but get togethers aren't for me.'

'Anti social? Introverted?'

'Tormented. I didn't have the happy childhood and personally, fun stuff, crowds partying, that shit scares me.'

Hair twins, joined at the hip, Seth breathing in the smells, scent of wet hair, pores dotted with black design beneath the flesh, eyes almost always looking sleepy.

Hands shot from his waist, apology sputtering from the lips.

'Sorry, sorry man, I shouldn't have...hugging probably fucks you up too, right?'

Seth shook the memory of his drunk mother screaming foul language at him, the stars he saw when she hit him.

He dragged Roman inch by inch back into the embrace.

'When you hug me, all the pain goes away.'

Fifty yelling drunken and drugged up men and women, overflowing the wreck of a crumbled gift shop, dancing amongst disaster remains and dust buildup.

Pile of presents to chin level, alcohol flowing, music loud enough to cause deafness.

Dean loved them, his friends, surprised and glad to have them.

S by his side, even followed him to the urinals, stuck like glue that was arsenic, dynamite, rusty spoon stabbed into an eyesocket.

Fifty friends and lack of two.

Sad, a feeling he NEVER felt before them, before Romes.

Before Seth...

Made him lose focus on the drink, watched and waited, paced at the door.

Solomon faded into the corner of his vision, pouting grouch.

Minutes ticked by, hours.

Being drunk off his ass would bury the pain so he drank, guzzled beer and hard liquor like water soaking in the dirt after a drought.

Four Solomon's in his eyes, blurry.

Smiling.

Wickedly.

'They forgot you. HE forgot you. But I'M here for you.'

'I guh wafer Seff.' Dean swayed and slurred. He knew somehow S had spiked his drinks, admired him for it.

'Go with me.' S walked him from the crowd, unseen, licked Dean's face from chin to forehead, grinned, touched the circuitry and motherboard strapped to his chain decorated baggy black punk pants.

Bright light to blind Dean as he was led far into the darkness.

His road to becoming one of the Infected.