Still thinking about the large bruise on Zack's back, Freddy walked the five blocks it took him to get from Dewey's place to his. It was a fairly nice house, built with every necessity and whim of a prominent business man. Two floors and an attic, a spacious back yard, and a garage for storing one of the two cars they owned.

Opening the door and stepping inside, he plopped his backpack onto the nearest object able to support it's weight (the couch), and walked into the kitchen for a snack. The chips were laying on the counter top, aluminum bag still unopened, so he grabbed them.

His dad would be out late tonight, which was good, so he popped in a movie and opened the chips. However, his mind couldn't seem to concentrate on the movie. It's preferred subject of thought seemed to be Zack Mooneyham. Particularly the large bruise on Zack Mooneyham's back.

Jeeze, where'd he get that?! That was one nasty bruise...deciding to find out, he paused his movie and went to pick up the cordless phone from the kitchen. He dialed Zack's number and waited three rings, before hearing a feeble "Hello?"

"Zack? Hey, It's me, Freddy." Freddy was relieved Mr. Mooneyham hadn't answered. Something about the man had always made him a little uneasy.

"Oh, hey Freddy, what's up?" Zack sounded relieved. Freddy smiled.

"Oh, nothin' much. Just watchin' a movie. You?"

"Nothin' much."

"Hey man, I gotta ask you somethin'," Freddy began. "I saw that nasty bruise on your back. What happened?"

Zack was silent for a long moment. Freddy was sure that he had been disconnected, when Zack finally answered feebly "It's nothin', okay?"

That was Freddy's warning flag. Nothing? Had Zack even SEEN the bruise on his back? Freddy was sure he at least FELT it. Oh no. That boy wasn't going to get away with 'nothin'.

"Hey, you wanna come over tonight, practice and stuff?" Freddy asked.

"Sure! Okay, I'll be right over!" As Zack hung up, he was pretty sure the boy was sounding a little OVERLY excited about getting out of the house.

After he hung up with Zack, Freddy turned to find the looming figure of his father standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Who was that, kid?" his father's voice was gruff, sanded down from too many years of being on the street. He'd married Freddy's mother out of need for money, and the woman was never around anyway. Too many business trips.

"Just Zack." Freddy answered softly.

"Just Zack," The man began to raise his voice. "You should be glad there are people like Zack out there who take enough pity on you to be your friend. You should learn your place, you little shit-head! All you'll ever be good for is accepting handouts, so get fucking used to it! That Zack is probably feeling sorry for you. That kid's gonna go places, and where will you be?! Here! That's right, you'll never amount to anything!"

Tune it out... tune it out... As the barrage of insults continued, Freddy closed his eyes and tried to block it all out. But...

He's probably right... I am a loser... I'm not going anywhere...

Soon, Freddy couldn't take anymore insult, and ran to his room. Shutting and locking the door, he curled up on his bed, and silently let the tears fall.

Shrugging his backpack and guitar case over his shoulder, carefully avoiding his newest bruise, Zack Mooneyham banged on the door of the Jones' place. A tall man with blonde hair, much like Freddy's, answered.

"Oh, so you're Zack. Get in here. He's up in his room." The man let him in, shut the door, and walked into the kitchen.

Was that Mr. Jones? Zack wondered as he climbed the steps. Looking down the hallway, He saw a door marked with many stickers, signs, and band paraphernalia. With a slight smile, Zack headed toward the door. Freddy, your decorating style is... unique...

Opening the door, The first thing Zack heard was the loud music blasting from a large sound-system. But as he listened more closely, he heard faint sobs, coming from a large blanket-covered thing on the bed.

"Freddy...? Is that you?"

The figure immediately jumped up. Sure enough, it was Freddy. Even through the tears, Zack could recognize his best friend's eyes.

"Hey Zack." Freddy said, nonchalantly. Yeah. As if I HADN'T just caught you crying your eyes out...

"Freddy, what's wrong man?" Zack asked. Freddy immediately began hiding his face. Why was he trying to hide his tears from him?

"Nothin'," he sniffed. "Hey, you brought your guitar, right?"

Zack nodded, holding up the case. They set up and started practice. Each noticed something was wrong with the other. Freddy noticed that Zack didn't seem to be moving as much, while Zack noticed Freddy seemed to be trying to punch a hole in his drums.

They noticed other things, too.

Freddy couldn't help but notice the way Zack held himself up when he played his guitar. As if it were a lead suit on superman. It made him invincible. Nothing could hurt him, not even Kryptonite. And the passion he was putting into it.... Like it was his life. That body... moving in time with the music, it was seductive in a way Freddy couldn't explain. Though the fifteen year old guitar prodigy wasn't moving as much, probably due to the bruise on his back, the movements were enough to make Freddy seriously consider dropping his drumsticks and throwing him against the wall into a very serious make-out session.

Freddy had realized his sexual preference soon after the School of Rock formed. He just couldn't get into any of the fangirls, or ANY girl for that matter. He had, however, noticed Billy's first boyfriend was VERY nicely toned...

He knew his father would never approve. He'd probably kick him out. Probably call him a fuckin' fag and tell him to get the hell out fast as possible. Probably tell him that he was a little whore who couldn't get a girl to look his way once, so he had to 'switch'. Probably tell him any boy stupid enough to fuck him once was a damn idiot. So he kept it a secret from everyone. Even Zack.

But Zack was looking REALLY good right then. Really, REALLY good....

Zack couldn't help but notice the way Freddy played is life through those drums. As if he were letting loose a monster. Anger. Hate. Pain. They all flowed into those fingers, tightly gripped around the drumsticks. They released his emotions through the room, like a window into his anger. The strong arms were banging out a rhythm that would have made any guitarist but himself (Kurt Cobain and Jimi Hendrix included) stop playing and stare. Those eyes were filled with a kind of devilish delight only Freddy could make look incredibly sexy. REALLY sexy. Sexy enough to make Zack seriously consider dropping his guitar to push Freddy down on the bed for a good... well...

Zack had known his own preference by the time he was thirteen. Though he knew what would happen if he told anyone, he couldn't help how he felt. In particular, how he felt to a certain blonde-haired lion of a drummer. He couldn't help feeling this. He didn't want to feel this, not for his best friend.

But Freddy was looking REALLY good right then. Really, REALLY good.

By now, Freddy wasn't watching what he was playing, and neither was Zack. They were too busy giving each other secret glances to notice. They both came to their senses, however, when Zack accidentally played a string of screeching high notes, and Freddy missed and pounded down on the cymbals. This, of course, nearly broke both their eardrums.

"MOTHER FUCK!!!" Exclaimed Freddy, dropping the drumsticks. Zack had dropped his guitar pick and covered his ears.

As the noise died down, they ventured a glance at each other. Zack let go of his ears and gave Freddy a weak smile. Freddy smiled back.

"Um, Zack, you kinda dropped your lucky pick." Freddy said.

"Oh no! Where is it!" Zack dropped to his knees and began a thorough inspection of the area, inadvertently giving Freddy a fairly good view of his ass.

"Found it!" Zack stated, triumphantly holding up his favorite navy blue guitar pick. Noticing Freddy's stares, he raised a questioning eyebrow at the drummer.

"Like what you see, Jones?" He said with a slight smirk.

It took Freddy a minute to decipher that question. This was Zack. The 'Innocent-Boy-Turned-Rock-Prodigy'. And he was dropping FREDDY a line. Were pigs flying yet? He wasn't sure...

Zack had said those words without even realizing it. What's wrong with you, Mooneyham?! Do you WANT to give yourself away?!

He was sure Freddy would laugh at him now. Something like that. At least his father wasn't around. Zack knew what would happen if his father was around.

He didn't like the idea of having his father around right then.

Freddy was quite sure Zack was joking. Sure, guys joke like that all the time.

But, somehow, Freddy found himself wishing it wasn't.

He thought about his dad. About the stupid things his dad always said to him. About how most of them just had to be true, since he said them so often. About how he didn't want them to be true. About how he wished there was just something to... to take him away...

And suddenly, he felt a sly smile trace across his lips. And he felt his lips moving. And he felt himself speak.

And he heard himself say "As a matter of fact, Mooneyham, I do."

Sorry the update took so long. Writers block sux.