-//-Chapter 4-\\-

After what seemed like hours, Race spoke up. "Well, they can play," he nodded. "They've got the band mentality down a little too early though… They shouldn't quite be that wasted just yet. Usually the newer bands are more into appearance and ya know, responsibility… then they are. You might have a time bomb on your hands…" He thought for a moment. Damn, he was good. He picked up the lingo from other managers, and of course, stole it for his own use. Then a thought struck his maniacal mind. Race sort of liked Autumn. She was cute – taken, but cute. Perhaps if he helped her out, she'd return the favor down the line. Mentally patting himself on the back, Race smiled. "Tell ya what. Give me the demo, and I'll see if I can get it to my people."

His people? Autumn tried hard not to laugh out loud. He didn't have people. He had connections that weren't even friends. Most of the people he knew were by association, and not by his own dry wit. She plastered a wide smile on her face and turned to Filly. "Get the demo! Quick!"

Scrambling into the house, Filly went in search of a demo tape out of their collection. Meanwhile Race flashed Autumn some interesting looks that he called flirting, Autumn pondered over where Jack would take her later on this evening, and the rest of the band stood in silence, each envisioning their dreams coming true. Spot was surrounded by so many women and cars that even Hugh Heffner was jealous. Skittery finally had more than one groupie, Filly had just finished up her own album called Riffalicious, Bumlets was tickling the ivories on his new mega-ultra-huge keyboard, and Blaze was playing beside Tico Torres in their new show 'Dueling Drums'.

After a fit of cursing and loud banging noises, Filly returned with a demo tape, her breath ragged and her appearance rather disheveled. They hadn't actually had to give out a tape in so long, that they were buried under a pile of Spot's dirty clothes that he casually left here each week. Filly only hoped she never had to return to that pile, and a chill ran down her spine as she recalled the freakish experience.

"Filly?" Autumn asked as she gently pulled the tape from her fingers. "Are you okay?"

Shuddering, Filly snapped out of her daze and nodded to Autumn. "Fine… fine…"

Autumn slipped the tape into Race's clingy hands and pulled another smile. "There you go, Race. Thanks again for coming to hear them."

Race nodded. "Sure, sure. Now, would you mind taking me home now? I hate having my roadster in the shop," he signed heavily.

What a pill he is, Autumn thought. His 'roadster' was actually a half white, half puke green 1967 VW Bug that needed a tune up, decent tires, and upholstery that didn't have bullet holes in it. She bet he bought it at one of those seizing auctions that the government had. The horn even played 'La Cucaracha'. "Sure Race, let's go."

Turning to the band, Autumn tried to say goodbye, but figured there wasn't even a point. They were already engrossed in some argument about Spot's dance moves. Which reminds me, I need to get more Advil on the way back…

"If I want to shake my ass, I will!" Spot exclaimed.

"You shake your ass too much! People are tired of seeing those cheeks on stage! They want to see your OTHER cheeks!" Filly screamed.

As the fight ensued, Spot's vacuum, a.k.a. Whiskey, opened the door to the garage and invited herself in on the conversation. Perching on one of the speakers, Whiskey's neck began to cramp up as she turned from one person to another each time they spoke. It was almost like she was witnessing a tennis game.

While Spot, Filly, Bumlets, and Blaze yelled back and forth, Skittery pulled himself out of the conversation. He tuned his bass and started to play his own melodies. It always helped to clear his head, especially when everyone else was arguing in front of him.

Whiskey's ears caught the rhythms Skittery was producing, and then her eyes turned to him. Skittery was drawing her in with his melodic tune – she couldn't look away. Before she knew it, she was off the speaker and next to him, smiling as his fingers ran up and down the bass.

Skittery stopped staring at his shoes when he noticed a body next to his. Catching her eyes, Skittery gazed back. He strummed his guitar faster as he looked at Whiskey, her eyes piercing his.

The yelling between the other four had grown in intensity, but Skittery and Whiskey couldn't hear it. Skittery put his bass down, took Whiskey's hand, and they slipped out of the garage, disappearing into the depths of his room upstairs.

Just as they closed the door, the four remaining band members blinked, repeatedly, processing the information that they had just seen. They had finally realized that Skittery had left the room – and with a girl no less!

Spot growled. "Just what does he think he's doing?!" he exclaimed and burst through the door of the garage. The human vacuum was his groupie! Yeah, so he didn't know her actual name. Did that matter? Of course not! It was the principle of the thing.

Filly stood there, lightly strumming her guitar like it was a way to forget about what she had just seen. Skittery never had a girl. She wasn't sure how to take the news. Who was going to open her locked door in the future? She could see Skittery and Whiskey, walking down the aisle of a Las Vegas chapel, while she sat outside her locked door, wondering who would climb up the side of the house, risking injury, just to open the door for her.

Bumlets and Blaze both declared the rehearsal and argument session of Friday night officially closed, and seeing as Filly was off in her own world, they skipped into the house, then clambered up the steps to Blaze's room.

Just as they shut the bedroom door, Spot could be heard banging on Skittery's locked door. He was not about to let Skittery have his groupie that easily. Well, that was until another girl rang the doorbell and Spot forgot what he was so angry about. Soon he was in the backyard with another vacuum attached to his neck.

Filly finally put down her guitar, kissing it as she always did, and dragged her feet inside. Why was she so upset? She should be happy Mr. Grumpy Pants finally had a groupie, shouldn't she? Shaking her head, Filly grabbed a six pack of beer from the fridge and trudged upstairs to her room… which was still locked. "Oh bloody hell…"

And so she sat outside her door, chugging her beer as quickly as she could. She could hear pounding coming from two different rooms and each time there was a distinct giggle, Filly tried to see how much beer she could chug without breathing.

While at times she loved having her own bedroom, tonight she would have preferred to share a room. That way she wouldn't be stranded out in the hall, listening to the festivities. Skittery and Bumlets had originally shared a room, while Filly, Autumn, and Blaze had their own. But as Spot stayed over more and more nights, and Bumlets got in good with the drummer, Bumlets moved into Blaze's room, and Spot bunked with Skittery at times.

It was somewhat lonely, especially considering she was sitting drinking alone, something she had always declared she wouldn't do. That must be why she was so perturbed by the whole Skittery has a groupie thing.

Usually, when she was lonely, she was lonely with Skittery, so in actual fact she wasn't as lonely as she had felt when the loneliness had started... wait? Did that make logical sense or was it just logical to her? Well... really... it didn't matter... she didn't have anyone else to tell about it did she.

She closed her eyes, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" Filly cursed sluringly, she was just waiting to see which of the headboards went through the wall first. Of course there was no thought in her drunken mind that it was kinda perverted, listening to other people getting lucky.

She watched Bon Jovi-shaped fish swim across her eyelids, as they told her they wanted her lead guitar playing abilities, and they were going to suck them out through her nose and send them to the Martians at Roswell so their Bon Jovi Cover Band had more talent. Filly picked up where she had left off belching 'Runaway', thinking of places were she could add a few nifty chords.

Skittery's door squeaked open as Filly's mind was busy focusing all it's energy on retaining her guitar playing abilities from those DASTARDLY Martians. Filly let one eye open as Skittery quizzed, "Filly? What are you doing?"

Filly's other eye came open, not missing the fact that he had just a towel slung around his lean hips. "I locked myself out of the room..." Filly muttered pitifully... she really was starting to feel sorry for herself, she'd long past the 'happy drunk' Filly, and she was now 'Feeling-sorry-for-herself' Filly.

"Why didn't you climb up and unlock it?" Skittery asked. Filly blinked a few times, went cross-eyed, and then blinked again, "I... feel sick..." Filly groaned, sliding sideways down the door holding her stomach. She'd drunk too much. "Could you climb up and unlock it??" Filly moaned pathetically, pouting pleadingly.

Skittery looked back towards his room then down as his toweled state, "Alright... just let me get..."

Filly groaned louder this time, "OHHHHHHH no... no... do it now... PLEASE!!!" Filly begged, hiccuping and then covering her mouth with her hand, dangerously close to being sick.

"Alright... alright. I'll do it now..." Skittery muttered, in-graciously, his eyes nervously on Filly's pale face. Managing... in some way... Filly wasn't even aware of... Filly clawed herself up into a standing position, and followed Skittery down the stairs, out the door, and towards the side of the house, all the while trying to focus her eyes on the scantily clad man in front of her.

As he started climbing up the wall, Filly marveled at how he reminded her of Spiderman, well except for the web bits... and the red spider suit, and the swinging thing Spiderman did... "BE CAREFUL Spider... SKITTERY!" Filly called, hiccuping sickly again, hopping from one foot to the other nervously.

As Skittery got to the window, without thinking, he raised the hand, not holding the window sill, and pushed the window up, just as his towel fluttered down, and landed on Filly's upturned face.

Pushing the towel away, Filly stared up at Skittery, before breaking into giggles. "SKITTERY!!! Your NAKED!" Filly shouted loudly.

As the words left Filly's mouth, the headlights of Autumn's car swung up the driveway, and shined right on Skittery's bare ass. Filly continued to giggle hysterically, as Spot, and his groupie of the minute, Luna, managed to tear themselves away from each other at the mention of the word Naked.

So there they stood, Filly giggling, and holding her stomach. Spot and Luna, looking up, Spot grinning evilly, and Jack and Autumn climbing out of the car, kindly leaving the headlights on high beam.

Swearing all the way, Skittery pulled himself into Filly's room, and a crash was heard on the second floor. Still laughing hysterically, Filly fell to the ground on the lawn... as Spot, Luna, Autumn, and Jack, rushed inside and up the stairs in time to see Skittery yank Filly's door open, and streak across the landing and into his own room, slamming his door shut with some ferocity!

Luna and Spot decided to return to their outdoor 'activities', since the naked show was over. Autumn and Jack grabbed a few wine coolers and retired to the couch in the lounge to watch Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, and Filly had finally picked herself off the lawn and stumbled back inside.

Groping up the steps, Filly found her room, and fell into bed. She couldn't tell if the pounding was coming from her head or from headboards crashing into walls, but either way, it was giving her a huge headache. Closing her eyes, all Filly could see were Skittery's cheeks… the ones in back. What was coming over her? Why was she dwelling on the bassist? That's what he was – their bassist, the person Filly hung around with when she was lonely… oh crap. Damn her thoughts.