A/N: Well, here we go again, huh? FINALLY! But hey, it took me a while to get inspired. So yeah, here it is. This is what you get when I don't have internet at my disposal 24/7…it takes weeks for me to update. I need Meg and PhoenixFireBlack to inspire me! weeps bitterly Lol. So it's here, and it's a bit darker and a bit more sexual, but hey, that's okay, right? Right?!

PAIRING: Once again, Freddy/Zack (a bit more hinting at that in this chappie), though there's a bit of Freddy/random unnamed slut girl, and a bit of Melanie/Tim progress.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own School of Rock or any of the characters, most specifically Freddy and Zack…seriously, there would have been LOTS more homosexual vibes in that movie if I had been in charge of it.

CLAIMER: I own the random unnamed slut girl, the crazy man's whipped cream and kilt, the scary trans, and any other random shit I invented in this chapter. Oh yeah, Freddy's street cone and stuffed animals.

DEDICATION/SHOUTOUTS: This is for Marcy, for getting me sick. No, I do not thank you for getting me sick b/c it's been hell, but because I was sick I watched SoR again, and that inspired me to write more of this ficlet, so thank you. And to Natasha and anyone else who was wondering, no, I do NOT do heroin or any other drugs. I never have and I never will. shrug I guess I should feel flattered that you think I'm an addict…kinda suggests that my writing sounds realistic. So…thanks…I guess. ;D Also, to Bloody Rose1, thanks for the lyric corrections, I'll fix them soon, I swear. I only have a burned copy of that cd that my sister gave me, so I don't have the lyrics written down and I just got those lyrics off of the Internet. Thanks for correcting me!

Freddy collapsed onto a frayed and dirty couch, ignoring the wet spots that he severely hoped were nothing more than spilled beer…if he were sober enough to care, he would have moved. But he was, after all, Freddy Jones, and it was a Friday night, at a party with lots of underage drinking, and it was ten minutes into their fifteen minute break…none of those circumstances added up to anything good as far as Freddy Jones' drinking habits were concerned. With only fifteen minutes of freedom and the terrible day he had been having so far, Freddy had wasted no time in getting raging drunk. Ten minutes and four and a half beers later, he was pleasantly buzzed and not much was bothering him anymore.

"Hey, you."

Freddy got the impression that someone was trying to get his attention. He slowly turned his head to the right, then to the left. No one. He stared at his feet, then lifted them one at a time, looking underneath his shoes. Still no one.

"Over here, drummer boy." The voice sounded highly amused. Freddy turned to his right and saw a girl smiling at him. She was leaning against the couch arm, half sitting on it, smiling a smirking little smile. She was pretty generic, for these types of parties: a little too skinny, with hair just past her shoulders that needed a cut. It was blonde, naturally, with dark brown roots showing at the top. Her eyes were big and blue, with heavy black liner underneath them and lots of mascara and tastefully applied pale purple eye shadow. Her shirt was tight and low cut, with some cutesy little slogan on it, and her jeans hung low across her hips. She was pretty, if you liked that type. Freddy usually went for something more original- dark brown hair, big brown eyes, plays guitar, he thought- but after four and a half beers, he wasn't so picky.

"Yeah?" he said, finally responding to the girl. She smiled even wider, sliding off the arm of the couch into his lap. She ran her slim fingers through his blonde hair.

"You're soooo talented," she purred, stroking her long crimson nails down the nape of his neck.

"Thanks," he said, leaning his head back into her hand as she traced her fingers through his hair, looking for more of the teasing sensation. She smiled at that.

"So," she whispered, leaning in close so that her lips brushed softly against his ear. "You wanna go upstairs with me? Ditch this party?"

He shrugged. "Eh…..I dunno…" he strained to see around her, looking for the familiar skinny body, that dark brown hair and those solemn eyes. He was still looking for Zack when the sound of plastic caught his attention.

"C'mon," she whispered. "It'll be fun. I promise." And she traced the small package of heroin teasingly across his throat and up, holding it up just in front of his face.

Freddy stared at it, then smiled at the girl. "I'm all yours."

The girl took him by the hand and tugged him along with her, as though he were a fish on a line, as though he had lost the power to steer his own course. They went into one of the bedrooms at the top of the stairs and Freddy collapsed onto the large double bed, the girl crawling across his lap, laughing as she slid her cold fingertips underneath his shirt. There seemed to be other people in the room, only Freddy couldn't count them or even catch them standing in one place. The girl handed him a mirror with some heroin on it, gave him the thin straw and he took it and held it to his nose without even thinking. When he felt the drugs hit him, he sank back against the pillows, eyes sliding shut and a contented smile tugging up the corners of his mouth as he found blissful peace at last. He was dimly aware of the blonde girl fiddling with the buttons on his pants, but it wasn't anything he felt he should worry about. He didn't have to worry about anything.

The girl went to work, either not knowing or not caring that Freddy wasn't really paying attention to what she was doing. Freddy relaxed and gave into the purest sensations of just being: the cool breeze floating through the room, the girl's sexual advances, the drugs shooting through his body…he knew he had been looking for someone a few minutes ago…someone in particular…someone special…he couldn't remember…and he stopped trying…and at that moment, he wanted nothing else…nothing more than to just stop trying…to just give in and give up and just let life do with him whatever it wanted…it sounds nice, doesn't it? …to just stop trying…

Fuck the pain away. Fuck the pain away.Fuck the pain away. Fuck the pain away.Fuck the pain away. Fuck the pain away.Fuck the pain away. Fuck the pain away.Fuck the pain away. Fuck the pain away.Fuck the pain away. Fuck the pain away.Fuck the pain away. Fuck the pain away.Fuck the pain away. Fuck the pain away.

Zack stumbled through the smoke-filled room, fighting his way through the crowds of dancing teenagers in a semi-drunken stupor, trying hard as he could not to spill his beer. Tripping over the frayed edge of the carpet, he crashed into a tall boy in front of him and half the beer sloshed out of his already half empty plastic cup. Unfortunately, the beer sloshed all over the boy in front of him. Zack winced; even in his somewhat drunken state, he knew that spilling beer on a boy much bigger than himself was not a good idea. Luckily for him, the boy was so high that he didn't even notice.

Sighing with relief, Zack went on his way, shoving hard to get through the crowd. The band had been playing all night and their fifteen minute break would be over soon. Melanie and Tim were both accounted for, but Freddy was nowhere to be found. He sighed. What a surprise. Zack paused to refill his cup and take a drink before moving on. Zack and Tim were the two reliable members of the band; both of them were responsible drinkers, always making sure that one of them was sober enough to drive home. Melanie was pretty good: she usually didn't touch the stuff, because she knew that if she drank two beers she'd be out for the rest of the night (she had practically no alcohol tolerance, and Freddy loved to bait her along). Freddy, however, was the problem. Not only did Freddy love to drink, he could really put them away. If Zack didn't watch the hyperactive blonde very carefully, he was likely to find Freddy five hours later and fourteen beers drunker.

Zack climbed slowly up the stairs, passing Tim and Melanie. It looked as though Melanie were trying for a second beer; she was already laughing like a maniac and sitting in Tim's lap, playing with his long black hair. Tim was bright red, though whether from the beer or from Melanie's added attention, Zack couldn't say. He gave Tim a huge grin and a thumbs up, and the bass guitarist turned as red as a stop sign. Yup, it's definitely about Melanie. At the top of the stairs, Zack paused momentarily. Judging that he hadn't found Freddy yet, it meant that, unless Freddy had left the house (God forbid), that he was in one of the bedrooms. Zack didn't like either thought. If Freddy had left the house, it meant he was probably three miles away, stark naked with a street cone on his head (which was how Zack had found him three months ago when the blonde had somehow managed to escape the house…Freddy led Zack on a merry chase, one that ended with Zack half dragging, half carrying one very naked Freddy Jones back to his {Zack's} house, forcing the hyperactive and extremely drunk blonde into a t-shirt and some shorts, and practically tying him to the bed until he passed out and slept for almost twenty-four straight hours, then woke up and brightly asked for a coconut). Zack shook his head, smiling at the memory. Freddy was weird enough sober; hung-over he was positively hysterical.

On the other hand, if Freddy was in one of the bedrooms, he was probably doing illicit things with some random person…not something Zack wanted to walk in on, for more than one reason. The thought caused him to blush a little. He had seen Freddy go through too many girlfriends and it wasn't something he liked watching. And, on the other hand, if Freddy wasn't doing illicit things with some drunken floozy, he was probably doing something completely random. The last time Zack had found Freddy in a bedroom (minus the floozies), Freddy had built a rather extensive fort out of blankets and stuffed animals, a fort he had insisted on dragging Zack into. He was hosting a tea party, he had tried to explain, gesturing crazily to the circle of stuffed teddy bears and elephants around him. Zack snickered; he had almost forgotten all about Freddy's drunken tea party. But he was wasting time. Sighing, he picked a room and, pushing open the door, peeked cautiously into the dark room. "Freddy?"

In the short moment it took for Zack's eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room, a few things happened: Two scantily clad girls went running out of the room, discarding clothing as they went. A boy wearing a kilt ran after the girls, laughing and squirting a can of whipped cream everywhere ('everywhere' included all over Zack, who blinked with initial surprise and then just stood there and took it)…and Zack became aware of many different voices making various sexual noises within the room. And then, something terrible happened: Zack's eyes adjusted. Eyes widening in horror, he slammed the door shut tightly, leaning his back up against it as though to hold it shut, feeling as though he would be ill. After a few moments, when he had relearned how to breathe, he moved on, shaking his head as a shudder ran through him. Ugh. Disgust.

Zack pulled open the second door. "Freddy?" This time, he didn't have to wait for his eyes to adjust, because the light was already on, so he came immediately face to face with one very scary, very obvious drag queen. The man (for he had to be in his late thirties) was extremely obese, but he had forced himself into a tight, form-fitting red strapless dress. He wasn't wearing a wig, and his short black hair was thinning in the back. His eye makeup was positively ridiculous.

The man gave Zack the old once-over and then, running his tongue across his teeth, he smiled seductively. "If you want me to be, baby."

Zack swallowed very hard, forced the largest smile he could, nodded once, and backed quickly out the door, slamming it shut behind him. "My GOD," he whispered.

Turning, he stepped up to the one remaining door. If Freddy wasn't here, it meant he had escaped the house and they would have to cut the show short to go find him. That meant they would lose half the money they were owed, and Melanie would kill Freddy…when she was sober enough. Zack pushed open the door. "Freddy?"

Inside the darkened room, Freddy was dimly aware that someone had just called his name. He didn't let the matter concern him for too long, however, and once again busied himself with the task at hand…which happened to be divesting the blonde girl of her skin-tight shirt.

Zack stepped into the room and immediately jumped a foot backwards, crashing into the wall, and brought up a hand to cover his eyes. "GEEZ, Freddy!"

Freddy immediately jumped nearly as high, sitting straight up, hands no longer anywhere near the girl. "ZACK?!"

"What the FUCK, Freddy?!" Zack stormed forwards and tugged Freddy roughly to his feet. The blonde boy had lost his shirt somewhere along the line, and his pants were down around his ankles. "Why d'you always have to go off and get sex in the middle of a gig, Freddy? Seriously!" Zack paused; he was finding it incredibly difficult to focus on Freddy when that girl was lying there, breasts bared for all the world to see. Squinting his eyes shut tightly, he reached tentatively out and tugged her shirt down over her bare breasts. Content, he opened his eyes and focused on Freddy again. Matters hadn't improved; Freddy was staring at him, so foolishly confused that Zack couldn't truly yell. Zack sighed. "Can't even let me stay mad at you, can you?" he muttered, grabbing Freddy's shirt off the bed. "Put your arms up."

"Huh?"

Growling, Zack grabbed Freddy's wrists and tugged, pulling Freddy's arms straight up over his head and, before Freddy could move, pulling the tight shirt down over Freddy's head. "Now…arrggh…fix your damn pants!" Zack crouched down in front of Freddy, trying to convince himself that he wasn't really down on his knees in front of Freddy while the blonde stood there in just his boxers and sporting one very obvious hard-on. The convincing didn't work too well. He yanked Freddy's pants up and fastened them as fast as he could, fully aware that he must be as red as a bottle of ketchup. "There…at least you look presentable," Zack griped.

Freddy laughed, a high laugh that didn't sound very much like Freddy. Zack stared, puzzled, as Freddy brushed a hand across his nose…and then again…and again. Zack cocked his head to one side. "…Freddy?"

Freddy giggled. "Yeah?" He rubbed his nose again, brushing his hand across just the underside of his nose, as though something was there…but there was nothing there…at least, not anything that Zack could see.

"…you okay, Freddy?"

"Of course I am." But he was rubbing his fingertips together now, not touching his nose, and Zack was even more confused than when he had begun. He shook his head, but, as he turned to go, something on the bed caught his eye. Leaning over, he reached out and picked the object up. In his hand was a small, square mirror. Zack stared at it, puzzled. What in the worl… Freddy brushed his fingers against his nose again, and Zack froze, a terrible realization hitting him, and he turned horrified eyes to Freddy. The blonde's head was tilted just slightly to one side; he stared back at Zack.

"Freddy," Zack whispered, unable to speak normally. "Freddy, are you-"

Before he could finish the sentence, Melanie barged into the room, swaying more than she should have been and followed closely by a very anxious looking Tim. "Come ON," she ordered, "we're going to be late for the second half, let's GO!" And, grabbing Freddy's wrist, she tugged him with her out of the room, hollering over her shoulder for Zack to hurry up.

Zack stood frozen where he was. Freddy…is…is he…is he… He looked down at the mirror. …heroin?

"ZaaaaAACK!" Melanie screeched.

Zack shook himself out of his reverie with some difficulty. Just put it out of your mind until later…there's nothing you can do right now, anyway. Just forget it. Just go downstairs and finish the show. One foot in front of the other…that's it! See? It's easy…so easy…

…so easy.

tbc