Larry had absolutely no idea where they were going, but Sal sure did, which confused Larry to no end. All the boy did was stare at a rock for like a minute and then acted like he suddenly remembered he'd parked the car somewhere. They were basically sprinting down the cracked sidewalk, towards the more busy part of town. At the moment, Larry's mind was a jumble of questions, adrenaline, and lingering tired thoughts of chocolate lipstick.

"Sal, seriously, what the fuck? Did fucking god tell you where my car went or something?" The boy didn't slow his pace, and even though Larry could just stop and make his friend stop as well, because his pale hand was still tightly clutching the brunette's wrist, he just kept speed walking behind.

"Or something." They came to an abrupt stop, Larry almost knocking them both over. They were outside a bar, an older one that wasn't very good at checking ID's, or maybe they just didn't care about causing alcoholism in minors as long as they got money out of it. It was pretty packed, with many shouts and loud music heard from inside. "There it is." Sal pointed at a distant parking spot, and sure enough the hood of Larry's car was just visible behind an ugly green van.

"How the fuck, Sal?" He went to inspect the car, it was undoubtedly his, and he was absolutely baffled. How the fuck did Sal know, maybe it was a lucky guess? But he didn't even have to look, he just knew. He turned back towards his friend, only to find Sal was walking towards the entrance of the bar. "Sal!" He had to jog to catch up, despite having short legs Sal was fast, but he also seemed pretty determined at the moment, by the way he was just ignoring he best friend.

Larry lagged behind his friend when they entered the loud bar. Despite the noise, it wasn't that full, most people were around the bar or at tables in a heavily lit area, leaving the darker corners pretty empty, which is where Sal was headed. The boy froze suddenly, tensing up, staring at a dirty blonde that Larry didn't recognize sitting alone in the corner.

"Fuck!" The blunette cursed under his breath, looking as if he'd lost all the confidence he just had. Flashing a brief look at Larry, who was still very confused as to what was happening, he took a breath and walked up to the young man, who's eyes lit up a bit when Sal walked over.

"What a surpri—"

"Hand over the keys." Sal put his palms down on the table, leaning forward, to which this mystery man raised an eyebrow. Larry hung back a little, unsure of what to do.

The blonde clicked his tongue. "You know this is a bar, right sweetheart?"

"You know you're 18, right douchebag?" Sal mocked, gesturing to the blonde's drink. "Just give me the keys and I won't tell."

The man only laughed, shaking his head a bit. "Can't do that, hun." Sal only stared intently at the other, meeting his steady gaze which Larry found odd as Sal usually didn't like eye contact. "You're little tricks don't work on me, remember?"

"Fuck off."

"I'll make you a deal." His smirk was annoying, Larry hated it, it made him want to punch the unknown man. The brunette hated everything about this blonde, especially the way he talked to Sal. "I'll give you the keys, if you promise to call me again, babe." He pulled the recognizable keys out of his pocket, holding them out in front of him and Larry almost kicked him.

"I don't do that anymore, asshole." Sal grabbed the keys before the other could pull them away, which made the blonde roll his eyes nonchalantly.

"One picture and I don't tell you-know-who." The blonde tried one more time, but Sal just scoffed, grabbing Larry's wrist and pulling him out of the bar, which seemed to be when the blonde finally noticed the brunette teen's presence because he glared in a very annoying manner. It seemed like he had a weird protective look in his eyes that Larry certainly didn't like.

He didn't get much more time to examine the stranger as he was pulled away by Sal, who wasn't explaining himself and was still as rigid as when he first saw the man. They'd just about left the bar when they were stopped by a balding man that worked at the bar.

"What are you two doing here? Minor's aren't permitted!" There was an audible sigh from Sally, they must have the worst luck to be confronted by the only person in this bar who cared about their age. Fear made Larry's heart speed up, what would his mom think about getting a call in the middle the night because her seventeen year old son was in a bar? He didn't have to worry long though, because Sal spoke up, sounding more annoyed than scared.

"It's fine, move." His words were monotone, exasperated, and the man responded by simply stepping aside, moving along with a blank expression. Larry was baffled, what the fuck, was he going to go call the cops or some shit? Again, he didn't get answers, he was just pulled along to the car, getting into the drivers side incredibly confused.

There were many different questions he wanted to ask, so he just asked the biggest one burning in his head. "Who the fuck was that? Do you know him?"

"Yes— No! I don't." Sal slumped in the passenger side, putting his feet up on the dashboard with no seatbelt on, like he always did. "Okay, yeah. He doesn't matter though, I stopped talking to him after the whole ordeal last year." His newly broke prosthetic had slipped a little bit down his face, exposing a bit of his forehead through his bangs.

"So you had talked to him before... Why was he calling you all those pet names— a-and the thing about pictures, had you sent him pictures? What kind of pictures?" Adrenaline suddenly surged through him, his words spilling out faster than he could think them. Protectiveness was something he felt a lot, especially with Sal, but this was different and Larry couldn't explain why.

"Maybe I did but it doesn't matter." He pulled his feet down, his shoes knocking on the floor of the car as he sat up. The prosthetic slipped a bit more, obscuring Larry's view of those blue eyes.

"What kind of pictures? You said he was 18!" God, he wished he wasn't always so angry, it made him into an asshole, he was acting like some sort of overprotective parent.

"He turned 18 after I stopped talking to him, stop being angry with me, it's my life." It was his life, why did Larry care so much? And Sal clearly wasn't talking to him anymore, the stranger was only there when Sal wasn't rational, and the pills kept his friend rational. He shouldn't be reacting like this.

"You're 16, what kind of pictures were you sending?"

"And you're 17, not my dad, it doesn't matter anymore." Sal threw up his arms, slumping back into his seat.

They fell into silence, parked outside a bar, Sal staring out a window with an angry expression behind his prosthetic and Larry staring at his friend with his protective nature making him mad.

"Sal. Were you like... dating him? Are you gay?" Unexplainable butterflies erupted in Larry at the thought, he couldn't say why, though.

"I guess. I wouldn't call it dating." While still facing away, the boy reached up and removed the prosthetic completely which had been gradually slipping further off his face. "It really doesn't matter." His tone had changed, more empty than anything, tired maybe. All anger left Larry at that tone, he hated that tone. The brunette faced forward, starting up the car and pulling out of the parking lot in silence.

"I'm sorry for getting mad." All other questions about tonight's happenings that Larry had planned to ask left when Sal turned his head with a small smile that Larry could just see in the dim light, cursing that he had to keep his eyes on the road at the moment.

Sal turned away again when they reached a stop sign, putting the prosthetic on and tightening the remaining strap. "Sorry for being mysterious."