A/N: Sorry all, a little late again with this one, but after this I should be completely back on track.

Also, Big Daddy is making an appearance next chapter and I've just realised I still haven't settled on which name I want to use for him. My first instinct was to go with Pete/Peter, since the convention in a number of fandoms seems to be taking the VA's first name for an unnamed character. But I can see Marcus is much more commonly used, and I kinda like it. (I have him named as both in a lot of notes and rough drafts.) Guess I'll have to decide quickly now.

Tickling the ivories had never seemed easier. Even after Miss Crawly's lesson had finished Johnny continued playing. There was a rock song he'd been hearing on the radio a lot lately, one he knew for a fact had recently made it onto Ash's list of favourites, and he quite liked it too. He was currently trying to teach himself to play it, as best as the guitar chords could be played on a piano, learning by ear as he played the song over and over on his phone. It was going better than he could have expected. Ash was going to be impressed, he knew, and impressing her wasn't often an easy feat. There was still a couple of hours before Gunter's dance class and he felt particularly inspired to spend his time trying something different. He'd briefly considered trying to compose a song of his own, but he didn't want to push himself that far. Not yet.

It was amazing how easily everything seemed to come to him now, if he really stopped to think about it. Only one class at Gunter's studio and suddenly all doubts and inhibitions had been shed. Well, mostly. There was still the subject of the pig himself. There wasn't much time for interaction until the end of the class, but Gunter had mentioned a date. Johnny tried to be happy for him, he really did, but he couldn't help but feel crushed. And he still didn't know why. He could admit that he was finding himself attracted to Gunter, but surely that was all it was. There was no reason to be so crestfallen.

Johnny was suddenly aware he had stopped playing. His hands rested motionless upon the keys and his phone had long since fallen silent, the song having finished for what was probably at least the twentieth time. The young ape had ruined his own mood with his thoughts; he no longer felt able to play. He decided his time could now be better spent checking in with the others.

Only a few steps taken outside of his practice room and Johnny could tell something was wrong. There was no dance or pop music coming from Gunter and Rosita's room, in fact it was completely empty. At this time they should still be practising their own dancing before teaching everyone else. Looking around he saw that the other rooms were similarly empty, no sign of Ash, Meena or Mike either. It was true that his own practice session had come to an end, but he expected to see at least one of the others still practising. Becoming increasingly concerned he made his way to the break room, hoping to find someone there.

"And you haven't heard anything from him either?"

"No, not at all. I've tried calling several times but-"

"Ah, Johnny!"

Johnny gave a small, awkward wave, aware he had just interrupted a conversation between Rosita and Buster. The director had noticed Johnny first, beckoning him over. Rosita turned her attention to him also, giving him a smile that seemed a little too forced. It didn't reach her eyes, Johnny noticed, and that only worried him more.

"Hey Mr. Moon, I noticed the other practice rooms are empty?" he said, posing it as a question, curious as to what was going on.

"Ah, yes, I've sent everybody home for the day," he replied, clasping his hands together. "Did Miss Crawly not tell you?" Johnny shook his head. Given the way Miss Crawly was, it wasn't surprising the news hadn't reached him "Ah, I suppose I should have told you myself. There is no dance class today, it seems Gunter wasn't able to come to work."

Gunter had never missed a day of work. Even when he was ill he would come in, claiming that dancing would make him recover faster. This wasn't right. "How come?" he asked.

"Well, it would seem he isn't feeling well," Buster answered simply.

"But… tha' never usually stops him."

"This time is a bit different, Johnny," Rosita spoke up. "He's not exactly ill, he just… isn't in the right frame of mind."

This just confused Johnny. Gunter had never appeared anything but happy. Was Rosita suggesting Gunter had a mental illness, or just that he was upset about something? "I don' understand," he thought aloud, unable to stop himself.

"Don't worry about it, Johnny," Buster said, his smile also looking a little forced. "Just go home and get some rest, start fresh tomorrow morning."

A knot was beginning to form in Johnny's stomach. Buster was telling him not to worry, but by the way they were both acting he couldn't help it. They were hiding something, how could he possibly consider going home?

"Did something happen?" Johnny asked.

Buster and Rosita exchanged glances. They didn't want to upset or worry Johnny, but it was clear they were already doing just that. Rosita gave Buster an imploring look and, after taking a moment to think it over, he nodded, giving her the go ahead to explain.

"There was… an incident, over the weekend," she began, trying to choose her words carefully. "Gunter had invited myself and Norman to visit a club we sometimes go to. While we were there, Gunter had a… disagreement with one of the other animals there."

"A disagreement?" Johnny seethed, unaware of how quickly his blood began to boil. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. So help him, if anyone had tried picking a fight with Gunter they would be sorry.

"Oh no, not that kind of disagreement!" Rosita hurriedly explained. "The other man upset Gunter, but there was no violence, I promise."

"Oh." It didn't do much to calm Johnny, the thought of someone upsetting Gunter still annoyed him. "So, what happened after that?"

"He went home, alone. Norman and I wanted to walk him home, but he insisted. And he hasn't been answering his phone since then." She looked down at her phone which she still held in her hands, still hoping to get some sort of reply.

"Did… did he make it home alrigh'?" Johnny ventured. He didn't like the sound of this. Gunter was left to walk home alone, from a bar which meant he was possibly drunk, and late at night. The conditions couldn't have been less safe no matter how low the local crime rate might be.

"We weren't very far from his apartment, so I'm sure he would have made it back safely. I… did call the hospital to be certain, though," she admitted. "The bar is only a few blocks away from the dance studio."

"The dance studio?" Johnny repeated, coming to a realisation. "So tha' means Gunter lives in the apartment above it?"

Rosita nodded, answering the question Johnny had forgotten to ask Gunter himself. He did indeed live above the studio, as he'd thought a few days ago.

"Judging by what Rosita has told me, it was all likely a misunderstanding," Buster tried reassuring. "Gunter seems to take certain things to heart, though, and this seems to have affected him. I'm sure he'll be back within a couple of days, after taking some time to think on it."

The smile Buster offered was much brighter than the one before and it was hard not to trust it. Johnny still had his doubts, however, and they won out.

"So wha' was this… disagreement about?" he pressed. It still wasn't making a whole lot of sense.

Buster's smile fell and Rosita looked solemn. Johnny turned his gaze to Rosita, realising she was the one more likely to offer a truthful answer. For a moment, nobody spoke. Johnny's gaze continued to burn into Rosita until finally, shaking her head, she spoke up.

"I'm sorry, Johnny," she said, meeting his gaze with eyes that threatened to shed tears at any moment. "I can't say, Gunter wouldn't want me to. He was already embarrassed enough that night." Knowing why Johnny was expressing so much concern for Gunter, it hurt far more than she thought it would to withhold anything from him. She was awfully fond of Johnny, as she was with all of the younger performers, considering them her 'theatre children'. But Johnny probably held the biggest place in her heart of them all, if she admitted to herself that she had a favourite.

Johnny frowned, clearly not happy to have his question unanswered. But considering it was Rosita, who he knew would never do anything to intentionally upset someone without good reason, he accepted it. "Alrigh'," he sighed.

"I'm sorry," Rosita repeated.

"Nah, don't be," Johnny said, giving her his best smile. He didn't want to see Rosita upset over this. Rosita returned the smile, thankful that he had accepted her answer. "So… he hasn't been answering his phone?" he said.

"No," Rosita said, looking down at her phone again. "He was quite upset, though, so I don't think there's much reason to worry."

She was right, of course, but it didn't stop Johnny from worrying anyway. Or her, for that matter. Johnny thought for a moment before an idea came to him.

"Why don't I try his apartment?"

Rosita and Buster both looked at him quizzically.

"I mean, we're all goin' home anyway, and it's on the way to my place."

"Johnny, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I don't think that's gonna work," Buster said. "If he's not answering his phone, I doubt he's going to answer his door."

"It's worth a shot, though," Johnny shrugged.

"Perhaps, but-"

Rosita placed a hand on Buster's shoulder, cutting him off. She looked up at Johnny with a smile. "I think that's a lovely idea, Johnny."

"Righ', well, I'll do that then," Johnny said, nodding as though confirming the idea to himself as much as the others. "And if he answers I'll call you so you know he's OK."

"Thank you," Rosita said.

"Good luck," Buster added. Despite his earlier objection, Buster did seem genuine when he said this, which made Johnny more confident.

He honestly had no idea what he could say to cheer Gunter up, if he even did get an answer. He didn't know what caused Gunter to be upset, but he figured at least showing up could help.

Before he had the chance to talk himself out of it, Johnny bid his farewell and left the theatre. He hadn't brought his skateboard today but, given the short distance to the studio, he didn't need it. Within five minutes he was already approaching the studio. Before going to the side door he took a quick peek into the studio, in case he happened to be teaching a class. The lights were all off and there was no activity as far as he could see. It was a time that Gunter should have been at the theatre, so of course there was no-one in there, but Johnny figured it couldn't hurt to check. Turning his attention back to the side door, he approached and brought a hand up to ring the bell. He paused before pressing it, however. Again, he was struck with the realisation that he had no idea what to say. In fact, he was wondering why he was even here. Why would Gunter even be willing to speak to him if he didn't want to speak to Rosita or Buster? Perhaps his feelings towards Gunter had influenced his decision to try visiting. Perhaps he shouldn't have come here.

Johnny shook his head, dismissing the thoughts. He was here now, whether it was a good idea or a bad one he was at least going to try. He rang the bell and waited a moment. He wasn't able to hear it, but given that it was upstairs he figured he probably shouldn't be able to. He shuffled awkwardly, wondering how long he should wait before trying again. He didn't know how many stairs there were leading up to the apartment, or even how it was arranged. Perhaps it would take a while for Gunter to answer.

After a couple of minutes, Johnny finally deemed it long enough to try again. After another minute there was still no answer. He tried once more, pressing his ear up against the door. He heard the bell this time, faintly, which meant it was working. Beyond that he didn't hear anything else. He next tried knocking on the door. It was a firm couple of knocks, loud enough to be heard from upstairs. Still, there was no answer.

Johnny sighed, taking a step back to try and peer through the windows above for any sign of movement. There was none. He knocked on the door once more, harder this time. It was beginning to feel hopeless now. If Gunter wasn't going to answer then there was nothing Johnny could do. Of course, it was possible that there was nobody in there, but given that Gunter hadn't showed up at work, he doubted the pig would have gone out anywhere else. Johnny was definitely being ignored, just as Rosita and Buster were.

Noting the mail slot in the door, Johnny had one more idea. He crouched down, opening the flap and looking through, confirming that Gunter was at the very least nowhere near the door. That wasn't going to deter him, however.

"Gunter?" he said in a slightly raised voice, mouth close to the slot to try and make himself heard clearly. He waited a moment to see if that got any reaction and, not receiving one, he continued. "Gunter, it's me, Johnny. Look, we're all worried about ya mate. I don't know exactly what happened at the club the other night, Rosita wouldn't tell me, but she said someone upset you." He sighed, not sure what to say next, but did his best to carry on anyway. "I'm… sorry that happened to you. I don't know what it was about, but it's obviously really hurt you. If… if you don't wanna come to the door, that's fine, but do me a favour, yeah? Give Rosita a call. She just wants to know you're OK. We all do."

There wasn't really much else Johnny could think to say. After a brief pause which still yielded no answer, he figured it would be best to just go home. "Well, uhh… I'm gonna go. I hope you feel better soon." He cursed himself for how stupid that last line sounded, as though Gunter were ill. He closed the flap and stood up straight, stretching out his back. He could have left it at that, but he suddenly thought of something else. Perhaps a bit of humour was called for. He crouched down and opened the slot again. "Oh, and Gunter? Just let me know if I need to punch someone. Alrigh', I'm off now."

Johnny hoped that would do the trick, but without seeing Gunter for himself he couldn't be sure. In all honesty he probably wouldn't punch anyone no matter how angry he was, not unless he had to, but it could at least be a fun thought. He began to walk back home, taking one last look at the apartment door before rounding the corner onto the next street. He was still worried, but at least happy to have had the chance to try helping. He just hoped to see Gunter at the theatre tomorrow.

Gunter had been trying desperately to ignore the noise at his door, just as he had been doing with his phone. Not knowing who it was at first he cursed them for their persistence. As soon as Johnny began speaking, however, he stopped being annoyed. He listened, even. He felt guilty that he had worried everyone, although he knew that wasn't the point of what Johnny was saying. The point was that they cared.

He had animals who cared about him. Who were worried enough to try and visit him at home after only one day of being absent at work. Who were worried enough to leave him… over forty missed calls and nearly as many messages, now that he decided to check. They were all from Rosita, Norman and Buster, though he was sure his other castmates would have done the same if they had his number. His eyes welled with tears, realising how lucky he was to have such caring animals in his life. Far luckier than he deserved to be.

No, that wasn't the way to think. He was lucky, and that was that. He'd already spent too long feeling sorry for himself for a relatively trivial reason, all things considered. He unlocked his phone, following Johnny's request and pulling up Rosita's number, finally ready to send her a reply. Tomorrow would be a new day and he planned to start fresh, putting all of this behind him.