Disclaimer: When Mozzy teaches me how to control minds, then, and only then will I own anything that is in this story.

Author's Notes: Wow, I haven't updated in a long time, have I? Sorry! My computers were all...crazy. Also, I just started school a few weeks ago, and my classes are all freaky. Honestly, why they put me in an Honors Math class is beyond me.

Review Responses

mydracomalfoy: Muwhahaha! Yet another person I have corrupted into the wonders of Spinner/Marco slash. Ah, I'm on your favorites? Thank you so much!

Bridget N: Oh, now you see, I can't tell you that just yet. That's why I keep adding chapters to this thing. Thanks for the review, I'm glad you liked it!

KinseySix: -waves- Hi! Did ya miss me? I can't believe you held those chapters hostage for so long. Meanie. But hey look, now I'm updating, so that means you have to as well! And don't feel bad for loving Manny, I love everyone. Except Catlin. –twitch-

Fox Eye: Actually, my cafeteria food was pretty good last year, but I'm cool this year and I bring my lunch! Yeah, fun crying Marco at the end. Thanks for the review!

Fucted Up Kid: Glad you liked the way I started the chapter. Yes, everyone is oblivious! Spinner will stop making Marco cry...eventually. If you go to you can find out any and all information about everyone. I can't wait for your Veela fic. It looks really good! I wish you good luck with that, and your title.

Teenage-Mutant-Ninja-Duckies: -blushing- You really did change your title, and you dedicated one of the best chapters to me! I feel loved! I hope you update Fits Like a Glove soon, it's so good. Thanks for the review!

Enigmus: Marco and Spinner will get together sooner or later. And it's just fun abusing Marco. Thank you for reviewing!

eclipsed: Ah, thank you! Your review was so sweet. It made me happy. –huggles- And thanks, I tried to keep them in character as much as possible. Thanks for reviewing!

anjel919: I named it subtle for two reasons. 1) It is subtle in the way that Spinner shows his jealous, well, to Marco anyway. 2) It's not subtle, so it's kind of an ironic title. I don't think I'm too hard on myself...-shrugs- But thank you so much for the kind review!

just-nikki: Is that really what goes on at soccer practice? I might just have to start playing that now. See, I'm updating! Thanks for the review!

Cyanide Anytime: Yeah, it's fun to abuse Marco. Spinner will come back...-cough- Thanks for the review!

RiseAgainPhoenix: I love your name! It makes me think of AFI and Harry Potter; which makes me think of Davey and Ron, and then you don't want to no where my train of thought goes. Oh, if I'm a pioneer, do I get a shiny helmet? Thanks for the review!

torian princess: Thank you for reviewing! Yeah, it is obvious...to everyone but Marco. Heh. Hope you like this chapter!

smoothNcreamy: Glad you liked the last chapter and thank you for the review.

almost-never: The Date was originally going to be in that chapter, but I got distracted. –cough- I tend to ramble. You quoted. Yay! It makes me happy when people quote! Thanks for the review!

Visitor-to-the-Echoside: I kick ass? for me! Thanks for the review!

Isdule07: Yes, Pleasure slave. It's a fun term. I've told all my friends that Marco is my sexy little Italian pleasure slave, and they think I'm insane. –shrugs- Sniffle, yay! Thanks for reviewing!

Whoa, that was a lot of reviews. Thank you everyone. Special thanks to KinseySix who reminded me to get off my lazy arse and update, and Teenage-Mutant-Ninja-Duckies for dedicating a lovely chapter of her own wonderful Spinner/Marco fic to me.

---

Chapter Ten: First Date

I think it's around 8:25 when there is a loud knock on my door, and my ma's worried voice reaches my ears. My eye lids begin to rise groggily, only to snap shut again when the hall light slips through the crack of my door, burning my already stinging eyes -due to all the crying, of course.

"Marco?" she asks, pushing the door open and poking her head in slightly. "Honey, are you awake?"

I yawn, nodding my head since I can't seem to answer. She smiles to me softly, then enters the room, walking over and taking a seat on the bed. Her hands run through a few locks of my hair, then move down to my cheek, brushing away a few tears. "Are you all right?"

I nod again, pushing myself up onto my elbows. "Yeah ma, I'm fine. Is dinner ready?" I ask her, suddenly becoming aware of an ache in my stomach.

"No," she tells me, shaking her head. "Someone is here to see you. That Slade boy. You remember, the one who came over for dinner? He said that you and he had plans to go see some type of concert tonight."

I blink a few times, my brain not seeming to comprehend what she has just told me. Suddenly, the hazy, sleep induced fog around my mind lifts, and there is a tiny click echoing in my head.

Date...tonight...with Slade...and I haven't even taken a shower yet!

I quickly jump out of bed, avoiding my ma's figure as I land on my feet. "Can you tell him I'll be down in twenty minutes?" I ask her, looking over my shoulder as I rush over to my closet.

She stands up slowly, nodding her head. "All right, I'll be sure to tell him. Do you need me to help you find anything?"

"No," I tell her, running from the closet to the dresser. "I just need some time to –ah!" I scream in pain a bit, scowling as I look down, only to see a large spell book lying on the floor. I pull my foot up, wrapping my hands around it and rubbing my thumb over my abused toe. Determined, I grit my teeth, doing the 'wee-wee' jump over to my dresser. I begin opening and closing doors quickly, pulling out some socks. "I just need some more time to get ready. I lost track of – Armaya! (1)" I narrow my eyes at the drawer. "Beng...(2)" I hiss at it.

"Uh...honey?" she questions hesitantly.

I look over at her, realizing that I have just been cursing inanimate objects in another language. I giver her a small smile, mentally banging myself in the head with something hard and blunt for being so careless as to when I use the little Romany I know.

"I'm fine ma," I assure her, wincing a bit at the ever present throbbing pain in my toe and finger.

She gives me a worried glance, then sighs. "If you're sure. I'll just go and tell Slade that you'll be down in a few moments."

Hesitating slightly -because I can tell all she wants to do is walk over here and kiss my 'boo boo'- she nods and goes to the door, blowing me a kiss before exiting my room. I quickly shed my shirt and pants, throwing them onto the bed. I grab some socks -that match, this time-, a black, somewhat figure hugging shirt that has a picture of Brandon Flowers with the words Hot Fuss written below it (3) -Ellie took me to Hot Topic to get it, just for this occasion-, and a pair of...pink hot pants.

Err...let's not go with those.

I sink to my knees, beginning to throw random items of clothes over my shoulder. Don't I have any decent pants?

What about those ones you wore for Halloween? Mozzy suggests. I turn my head to see her stretching out along the end of the bed, yawning softly. I raise an eyebrow at her, shaking my head.

"You mean the ones that I couldn't breath in?"

Yeah, those.

"I can't wear those! Not on a date!"

She sits up, tilting her head to the side as she watches me. And why not? I think you look just fine in them.

I can feel a blush rising to my cheeks, and shift a bit in my position in front of the dresser before answering. "I don't want to look..."

Look what?

"Easy!"

Small, cat eyes blink at me once or twice in confusion before she hops down off the bed. She stalks closer to me, stopping once she's right beside my knees. Easy...?she asks me.

"Like...you know. Easy."

Oh...you mean like you're desperate for a lay?

"...yeah."

Aren't you?

"No!"I glare at her, dark eyes narrowing in my slight anger. "What do you think I am? Some type of hormonal, sexually frustrated teenage boy who thinks with his pants instead of his brain?!"

Well...duh, she says, rolling her eyes. A soft sigh escapes my lips, but I shake my head, deciding that I'd rather not continue with this conversation. Besides, I've still got to get ready.

I jump up and rush to the bathroom, quickly brushing my teeth, slapping on some deodorant and cologne, before trying to smooth my hair out of the pillow induce fro I've found it in. I grab a bottle of hair gel and coat my hands, running it through my dark locks, attempting to tame it down slightly. I frown, grimacing when I look in the mirror.

Note to self: Hair gel plus mini-fro equals spikes.

All right, so maybe it's not that bad, but I still can't help the look of distaste that passes over my features. God, my hair is everywhere now! There are some spikes tilted to the right, while others are slicked across the left, and this just looks...awful. Biting my lip, I run to the door, leaning to the side to peer into my room, seeing that I only have about five minutes left. I click my tongue nervously, tapping my fingers against the door frame as I run through a mental debate.

Pants, or hair? Hair, or pants? Well, I need pants, but this hair really looks awful...but pants are probably more important. After all, I don't think anyone really wants to see me walking around in nothing but my boxers and a black t-shirt.

-

I walk down the stairs, shifting my hips uncomfortably as I do. Yes, I did end up wearing these God forsaken leather death traps again. I really didn't have anything better. I mean, it's not as if I like walking around with people thinking that I'm some type of male hooker. My black boot clad feet finally reach the bottom of the steps, and it is only now that I drag my gaze from the floor to look up, scanning my gaze around for any sight of Slade or my parents. Finally, my eyes settle on the front door, where I see my pa speaking with him.

And what a sight it is.

His midnight black hair is slicked up into spikes -much better than the defective little spears in my head- tipped with red, silver and blue. He wears a dark blue tank top that clings to his chest -not that I'm looking or anything- and a pair of hip hugging khaki pants. It's all topped off with a black leather jacket and some Nikes.

He's...so...pretty...

"Hey Marco!" Slade says happily as he turns to me. His expression turns from one of joy to one of slight bemusement as he takes in my look. I must be quite the sight myself. What with this t-shirt sticking to me like a second skin, and these leather pants so tight I can barely walk in, and plus my new Frankenstein do...I probably look like such a freak.

"Hi," I tell him smiling. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting. I took a nap and I guess I just...lost track of time or something."

He mirrors my smile, patting my shoulder lightly. "It's fine," he tells me. Leaning in closely to that my pa won't hear, he whispers, "It was worth the wait."

I blush a bit but offer him a weak grin at the compliment. Pa raises an eyebrow, but simply shakes his head, patting Slade and I on the shoulder before he begins to speak. Oh please, don't say anything embarrassing. Please...?

"You two boys have fun tonight. Just remember, no drinking, and no drugs. And Slade, look after my boy. He's a bit shy, but once he gets going, he's a complete lady killer! Oh, but make sure you use protection."

God...no...please no!

He turns to Slade, looking at him with an intent expression. "You have been tested, right?"

Slade blinks at him a few times, then turns to me, giving me a slightly quizzical look. "Um..." he begins, trailing off as his eyes dart to me, silently asking what in the hell this crazy Italian man is talking about.

"We gotta go pop," I murmur, grabbing Slade's hands as I begin to head out the door.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Del Rossi," he says politely as we walk through the threshold.

I can practically feel my father blinking in confusion at our hasty exit, but can you actually blame me? I mean, what if he started with the 'urges' talk again?

"Wait, boys!" I hear my ma calling. "I didn't get to take the picture...!"

Slade and I exchange somewhat horrified glances. His hand tightens around my own and we run as quickly as possible to the black Jaguar parked in front of our house. My ma is still yelling something, and I vaguely hear the faint sounds of her desperately trying to snap some photos. I don't know why she wants to get pictures, anyway; parents are just sentimental about everything these days.

I hope into the car, quickly shutting the door and doing up my seat belt. "Bye ma! Bye pop! I'll be home before 1!" I call out to them before Slade slams a Nike clad foot onto the gas pedal.

And we're off.

I let out a small sigh of relief, relaxing against the leather covered seat. Thank God. I can't believe we made it out alive! I shake my head a bit, absently wondering if I had met Slade only two months earlier, if this date would have started off the same way. Sometimes I wonder if this witch craft stuff is one of the reasons my life has been so...off lately.

Maybe it's just my imagination, but it seems as if things have gotten a lot more interesting since I discovered my magical roots. And I seem to have gotten clumsier, too –take tonight's earlier events for instance. I wonder if that's some sort of freaky side effect. I'll have to talk to Mozzy about that one.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by the feeling of cool fingers running through my hair, a soft laugh following as they continue traveling to the nape of my neck. Goosebumps rise on my arms, and I can't figure out if they are there because I like this feeling, or because Slade just happens to have a ridiculously low boy temperature.

"Decided to be a bit adventurous tonight, eh Marco?" he asks me softly.

I turn to him, pouting a bit as I see the mirth sparkling beneath his icy eyes. "Oh just...shut up," I tell him, for lack of anything better to say at the moment.

He grins, shaking his head a bit. "Don't get defensive. I like it. Makes you look sexier than usual."

Thank God I'm not eating or drinking anything, because if I were, I would have just chocked to death. Instead my eyes bulge and I stare at him, blinking a rapidly as I feel a blush quickly rising to my cheeks. "Um...t-thanks," I say, trying –and failing miserably- to hide the stutter.

"Sorry," he says, giving me a confused glance. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

I shake my head. "No, you didn't. It's just...well uh...you look nice too."

It's not like I'm completely embarrassed -I'm not as innocent as everyone thinks I am; no, really, I'm not!- or anything, it's just...no one I've ever dated has been so blunt before. Well, all right, Dylan and Slade kind of are the only people I've ever dated, and I doubt Dylan –forthright as he may be- would have said that to me. Actually, the only people I know who are that blunt are Paige and Spinner. And Paige, well, judging by the way she's been acting with Ellie, I doubt she could care less about my sex appeal, and Spin...I doubt he'll ever tell me that I'm sexy. Unless it's some type of joke, or something.

Why am I thinking about Spinner? Now of all times. I'm on my date with Slade now. I refuse to let Spin, or anyone for that matter, interfere with the wonder that will be this date. No boo-boos, no Spinner shall hinder thy! (4)

"Thanks," I say, looking over at Slade and give him the most beaming smile I can manage. "For inviting me and everything. I mean, after all the crap and stuff..."

He raises a hand, dismissing the rest of whatever I am about to say. "Don't worry about it. I really like you Marco. I wanted you to come," he says genuinely. The honesty in his voice makes me feel like swooning.

"What's this place called again?" I ask, my hand reaching for the small lever that will pull my seat up. I hate being so short; I can barely reach the radio controls.

"The club? Oh, it's 'Mon Singe'. I think it's French or Italian or something."

"It's French. I think it means..." I knit my brows together for a moment, linking together the few French words that I do now, and bite my lip to stop myself from laughing aloud.

He glances at me, raising an eyebrow. "What?" he asks.

Trying desperately not to laugh, I answer, "I think it means, 'my monkey'," I answer with as much as straight face I can manage.

Blinking, a smile begins tugging at his lips. "Oh my...man...dear Lord, really?" he says, his own voice seeming to shake with laughter.

"Y-yeah," I answer, letting a chuckle –all right, I know I don't chuckle, I giggle, happy?- escape me. "Did this guy know what it meant when he named the club?"

He shakes his head, a large grin on his face as he does so. "Doubt it. Lucas –that's his name- doesn't know much of anything. It's a miracle the club has made it this far. Actually, my dad has helped a lot. He's a total math freak. One of the best accountants in the country. Without him, Lucas would have been bankrupt before he ordered the table napkins."

I find myself smiling lightly at the thought. "So, genius runs in the family?" I question.

"Guess so, but look who's talking," he counters. "Ah, we're almost there."

He takes a sharp left turn, and within moments, we've pulled into the parking lot. Several other cars are parked, and there is a line of leather clad punk-like teens that is pouring out into the other side of the street. Guess word got around. I slide out of the car and shut my door, taking in the front of the club. It's actually really nice.

There is a large sign, the words Mon Singe written in cursive and in aqua neon letters. The outside is a sleek black, with neon lines of blue, white and gold surrounding the sides, highlighting all the signs advertising different beer logos. It looks pretty classy from the outside.

"Shall we?" Slade questions, sliding his arm through mine. I nod to him, surveying the group of teens, and adults I've realized, lining the streets. As I look out at them, I see that there aren't any women, at least none that are visible. I begin to ask Slade about this odd coincidence, when my common sense kicks in.

It's a gay bar.

The Killers are playing at a gay bar.

That makes me ridiculously happy!

Slade leads me up to the front of the line, ignoring the curses that are spit his way for cutting. He gives a grin to the bouncer –a man of at least 7 ft. who bears a strange resemblance to Mr. T- shakes his hand.

"Evening, Deck," he says.

He gives a nod of acknowledgement. "Good evening to you, Mr. Avron. Is this your...guest?" he asks.

Nodding, he wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer. "Yeah. Luc's expecting us. See 'ya later?" he asks.

"Of course. Go on in," he says, stepping back and opening the glass door, making a motion with his hand, signaling us inside.

I nod in appreciation and Slade leads me inside. The inside of this place is just as nice as the outside, but it's still what you would expect a regular dance club to look like. Black walls, red walls nearer to the tables, flashing lights, a huge bar, and a large stage towards the back, where I can just make out Mark helping Ronnie set up his drums.

This is so cool...

"Wow," I breath, taking in the of it all. "This is so, awesome," I comment.

"I figured you'd like it," he comments smiling. "So, you want something to drink?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah," I nod. "Here..." I begin, reaching into my pocket for a few dollars.

He grabs my hand, brining up to his lips to place a kiss on my palm. "No need, Marco. It's all on me tonight." He winks then turns to walk towards the bar.

I watch him as he strides confidently over to the bar, placing his elbows on the top and leaning against the bar top, calling a bar tender over –by name, just like with the bodyguard- and chatting a while before ordering the drinks. They talk a bit longer, and after a few moments Slade jerks his thumb towards me, and the bar tender looks over at me. I smile and give a small wave, which Slade returns before turning back and grabbing the drinks. He makes a motion with his head, motioning towards one of the tables in the back. Realizing he wants me to follow, I make my way through the small crowd of people and make my way over to him.

I sit down next to him, taking the drink he slides me with a smile. I look down at it, raising an eyebrow at the lightly colored liquid.

"Is this apple juice?" I question stupidly.

He blinks at me for a moments before a laugh escapes his lips. "No," he says, shaking his head.

"Oh," I say, a bit embarrassed. "So...what is it?"

"Cocktail. Or, to be more precise, an Aruba Smash."

I blink at him, mouth gaping slightly. "A...c-cocktail?"

And please, don't point out the irony of me drinking a 'cocktail' in a gay bar, because this is just not the time for that perverted-ness.

He nods to me, taking a sip of his own drink. "Yeah. It's nothing to bad. Some spiced rum, 7-Up, lemon juice, orange juice, pretty good, actually. Try it," he tells me.

I recall my pops earlier words. 'No drugs, no drinking...use protection'. I can't...he can't really be expecting me to drink this, can he? He must be joking. I watch him watch me, and he gives me a confused glance.

"Do you want me to get you something else? I could get you an Aruba, or an Aruba Punch..."

"No," I tell him, cutting him off. "This is fine."

Which it is. Isn't it? He obviously didn't think anything of it, like he expects this to be no big deal. If it's not to him, then it won't be to me. I lift it up the cup and bring it to my lips, hesitating for only a moment before I take a sip, letting the cool liquid slide down my throat. It doesn't taste all that bad. In fact, I think I can make out the sour flavoring of the lemon juice more than I can the rum. I'm not saying it's good, though. On the contrary. If it wasn't for this circumstance, and this circumstance alone, I probably never would have touched this stuff. No that I think about it, I don't think I'll ever touch this stuff again.

I gulp the rest of it down, deciding that it will be easier just to swallow it now instead of enduring it's spicy bitterness sip by sip. I put the glass back on the table top and shake my head, shuddering a bit at the after taste left sticking to my mouth. I look over to see Slade has just finished his own drink and has placed it next to mine. His eyes move over to me, and he smiles, moving closer and wrapping an arm around me. I sigh, leaning in to him, grabbing my jacket with my other hand, since he does seem freakishly cold.

Even though I don't want to, I think about Spinner. I remember that awful fiasco at Halloween, when everyone was hell bent on making me their 'sex slave'. I remember Spinner pulling me into his lap, and how warm he was. I compare them, they way they feel, how strong their arms are, and I mentally slap myself. Date with blue eyed God here! Why am I thinking about him?

I tilt my head, smiling at him, and I suddenly wish that he would kiss me. Maybe if he does, I can forget about the whole mess with Spin. And, as if there really is someone up there looking out for me, he cranes his neck and lowers his head, gently covering his lips with mine.

He tastes like rum and hot chocolate, replacing my Aruba Smash with a bitter sweet taste, that I find I enjoy a lot more than the mixture of orange and lemon juice. He wraps his cool hand around the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him, and I comply without hesitation. He's soft, and I can't help but love this feeling as his other arm comes up around me. I feel safe, and protected,

The kiss ends and I pull back a little, leaving only four or five inches between our lips. I meet his eyes, and they are sparkling with some kind of emotion I can't place, but it makes my stomach do a flip flop. I lick my lips, tasting alcohol and sweetness, making me sigh happily and rest my head against his shoulder.

"Hey," he whispers in my ear, and I shiver, still not knowing if I can link it to the sound of his smooth voice or the cool body I'm pressed against. "I think the show is about to start."

I tilt my head a bit, seeing that Brandon and David have joined their other band mates. Excited as I am, I realize that I'm going to have to get up now, and I really don't want to do that. Slade is just And I think I might get more kisses if we stay like this.

Despite my inner protests, I stand, smiling when his arms stay wrapped around me. We make our way through a throng of people up the front. Brandon steps in front of the microphone, smiling out at all of us as he begins to speak.

"Hello, how is everyone doing tonight?" he asks.

An echo of screaming is heard in the back ground, and I realize just exactly how many people are in here. I lift my hand and give a rock on symbol, along with Slade and just about every other guy in here.

"All right! Well, since it seems we don't have any ladies slowing us down tonight..." he says, winking, earning another round of cheers and a few cat calls, "...let's get this show started!"

Music begins to fill the club, and I feel the same arms that were wrapped around me turning me around. He pulls me closer and grins, and I feel heat flooding to my face. I've never really danced with a guy, but hey, I guess there's a first for everything, right?

Breaking my back just to know your name
Seventeen tracks and I've had it with this game
I'm breaking my back just to know your name
But heaven ain't close in a place like this
Anything goes but don't blink you might miss
Cause heaven ain't close in a place like this
I said heaven ain't close in a place like this
Bring it back down, bring it back down tonight
Never thought I'd let a rumor ruin my moonlight

And boy, can he dance. He moves like...well like a person shouldn't be able to. For a few moments, I'm completely entranced, then a little voice –that sounds a lot like Mozzy- kicks in and tells me to stop gawking like an idiot and bust a few moves of my own.

Maybe I should be worried that I have voices in my head –especially voice that say such things as 'bust a move'- but I decided that I'll analyze it later. Right now, I'm just going to forget about everything, and try to have a good time. One that doesn't involve witches, confusing friends, or voices.

Well somebody told me
You had a boyfriend
Who looks like a girlfriend
That I had in February of last year
It's not confidential
I've got potential

-

A two hours later, and the concert is over. It was the most fun I've had in months. Dancing, singing at the top of my lungs –and very off tune, but whatever- making out, and just doing whatever. I haven't been able to just...you know...be for a few hours in such a long time. Always worrying about everything around me, never having any time to just breath and relax; not like tonight, anyway. I think I needed this. No, I know I needed this. I think I was beginning to go a little crazy dealing with everything. I just needed some time to unwind a bit.

Currently, I am back at our original table, finishing off another Aruba Smash –it's only my third, and my last; I can't even fake liking these things anymore- before we head off home. I wonder if Slade should be driving, but he's only had one. Now I know, I'm smart, and I've seen about three hundred after school specials and had around five hundred more talks about how it just takes one for you to mess up, especially driving, but I'm not being responsible tonight. I'm just going with the flow. So, even though I know I should, and I'm probably going to regret it in the morning, I don't care.

"...ready?" I ask, looking down at Slade as I slide out of the booth.

He nods, smiling. "Yeah." He stands up, grabbing his coat and swinging it over his shoulder. Again he wraps his arm around me and leads me out of the club, waving to random people every now and then. We walk through the doors, stopping only to say goodbye to Decker, before heading out to the car.

"So," he asks as we both get into our sides of the car. "Did you...have a good time?" he finishes, almost nervously.

"Of course," I tell him, leaning over to press a kiss to his neck before we start going.

He starts the car and we head off, going down the road as fast as the speed limit will allow. One hand falls off the steering wheel and snakes over to me, grabbing me around the waist to pull me closer. We near a red light and he slows, turning his head and pulling me into a kiss when we come to a complete halt.

It's probably not smart to be somewhat drunk and making out when you're driving, but hey, like I said earlier, I'm not caring tonight. He pulls away only after we hear someone honking for the fifth time in a row. I continue kissing his neck, for reasons completely unknown to me, since it's obviously distracting him. I move back after a few minutes, breathing heavily as I look out the window, barely catching a small green sign with the word Degrassi written on it.

Um...we weren't supposed to pass my house.

And then it hits me.

He's not taking me home.

---

(1) It means 'curses' in Romany.

(2) It means 'evil' in Romany. I actually did curse my computer as beng the other day. Yeah, my mommy thinks I'm totally insane now.

(3) Brandon Flowers is the -incredibly good looking and talented- lead singer of The Killers. I don't know if that's a real shirt, or not. I should have looked to see, but I didn't, because I'm lazy. I didn't see any of their shirts at Hot Topic either, but it seems like the most likely place for one to obtain 'The Killers' t-shirt.

(4) My friend had a picture with Cloud –Final Fantasy 7- and Squall –Final Fantasy 8- and it said 'No Cloud, No Squall, shall hinder us.' I thought it was funny as heck!

Firstly, I would like to say that I am in no way condoning underage drinking, or driving the least bit drunk. There are serious consequences for both, and their never worth it. Secondly, juding by The Killers lyrics, I don't know if they would play at a gay bar. It just sort of...happened. Now that that's over with...

Spinner: Hey! He molested Marco. That's not right! –grabs Marco- Mine.

Marco: -sighs-

Yes, Spinner, we know, yours.

Marco: Please review. Sorry for the late update, she'll try to update sooner next time.

Bye!