Disclaimer: Foster's is not mine and every second I waste saying this, I lose another second to watch Gravitation in. Gravitation!

Chapter Ten: Difference of Opinion

The instant the applause ceased and the fangirls stopped screaming, Bloo vanished. He couldn't take it anymore- Mac's piercing gaze, the clamors for a make out scene, everything and anything. His eyes blurred with tears and his breath caught in his throat. They thought this was a game. They thought he was just a cute emo boy. His hatred for them renewed itself.

Winding halls took him further and further from his love. He lost count of the turns, retreats, and sideways walks to avoid him. However, when he finished, he found himself in a far worse predicament than before. Through sheer dumb luck, he'd maneuvered himself to Kip's dressing room. The color drained swiftly from his face and he retreated only to bump into the real thing.

"You," Kip growled, snatching him by the arms to prevent him from escaping. Bloo struggled, and then realized he had nowhere else to go. It was either face Kip or face Mac. Neither option terribly appealed to him.

"What do you want?" Bloo retorted, tones clipped. Kip spun around and slammed him into the nearest wall. Bloo saw stars and when he pulled him away, blood decorated the wall. Swallowing hard, he wondered if maybe he should have let Mac seek him out after all. Nothing could be worse than this.

Digging his fingers into his upper arm until Bloo cried out, Kip leaned his face unpleasantly close to his hostage's. Saliva swirled in his mouth and he imagined spitting on him. From experience, though, he knew spitting would only result in further mistreatment. Submission usually led to his boredom. He liked torturing him, but only when he played along.

"You brat," he snarled, releasing an arm to slap him across the face. It was hard to tell whose eyes were more hateful.

Bloo trembled in suppressed fury. Memories of Frankie flashed through his mind and he snarled at Kip. They were coming here to help him; he didn't have to take this shit. The righteous fury he hadn't felt when Mac had his foot on Kip's chest a month ago surged and he punched him in the mouth. When Bloo pulled his hand back, blood decorated his knuckles and he felt savage pleasure.

I can hurt you. You can bleed like me. You're not omnipotent, he thought maliciously, watching him feel his lip and stare, stunned, at his charge. It had already begun to swell. Bloo yearned to whoop in triumph and then land a thousand more punches on his stupid, stupid face.

"…You hit me," Kip murmured, sounding like a petulant three year old who's had his toy abruptly stolen. Unable to contain himself, Bloo laughed and reared himself for another blow. He envisioned beating Kip to a bloody pulp and then punting him off the roof. Of course, in his mind, Kip flew through the air like a football and not a human body, but that was beside the point.

Unfortunately, the laughter jarred him back to the present and he pulled out a switchblade from his left pocket. A dull fluorescent light shone half heartedly on it and Bloo swallowed hard. He should have known Kip would fight dirty. He should have known he'd pay dearly for his blow. Even so, he didn't regret it.

"To kill you tonight or tomorrow…" Kip mused, tossing the blade from hand to hand. Bloo sincerely hoped he cut his palms and they bled all over the place. He stared determinedly at it, lip curling disdainfully, but the blade didn't obey his thoughts. It sailed smoothly back and forth.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he snapped, temper getting the better of him. The blade landed in his right hand and he grinned at it as though weighing whether or not to slash his throat. There was a time when he would have wanted him to do it and goaded him into it. Then again, there was a time he thought no one cared about him and the only option was suicide. Somewhere in this labyrinth was Mac, his beloved creator, and on the road elsewhere were Frankie, Eduardo, Coco, and Wilt. The time had passed for self pity.

"I knew he wouldn't have the guts to do it," he continued as though Bloo hadn't spoken. He thrust it experimentally at him and he backed into the wall. A sick smile played across Kip's features and his stomach lurched. Curiosity over the apparently spineless human kept his trepidation at bay. Who wouldn't do it? Wouldn't do what, exactly?

"Your creator, of course. Or is he your lover? You're just goddamn lucky gay is in, because if it wasn't, that little act of yours would have ruined your career. But don't worry, I'll ensure your career, and by your career, I mean your legacy, will last you into death.

"Just because Mac chickened out of murdering you doesn't mean anything. I knew he would. I planned accordingly."

Dully, Bloo thought the world slipped out from under him. He'd thought Mac was going to murder him? At least he'd proven him wrong, but then again, he knew Mac would never hurt him like that. No, what disturbed him was Kip had actually set out a date for his murder and intended to carry it out. Though he'd been afraid of his power, yes, deep down, he hadn't thought he'd go through with it.

Then again, he'd also been holding on for Mac and his safety. If Kip killed Bloo, then there was nothing to stop him from killing Mac too. Bloo's suicide plan had been vague, but it had included saving Mac somehow. Right now, that plan evaded him, but now that he actually didn't want to die…

"Tomorrow, after 'Teenage Suicide', there will be a real death. Yours- you finally got what you wanted. Tell that to your lover…and tell him if he interferes, his body will lie atop yours. No, wait, let me rephrase that. I'm sick of his interference in your life. I'll kill him first."

Smirking at the pallor in Bloo's face, he punched him hard in the stomach for his earlier insolence and waltzed off. Bloo fell to his knees and stared unseeingly ahead. He had to tell someone, but who? Who on earth was going to help him when Mac was already in danger just for being here?

Thankfully, Kip's dressing room was unlocked. Bloo's eyes narrowed as they slid over piles of cash, another switchblade, and a handgun. An image of him shooting Mac halted him temporarily and he faltered, puzzling whether he'd be able to get away with stealing it. Then again, if he did, Kip would automatically assume it was him and search his room. There was no way he could get away with it.

In the middle of papers, contracts, and a rejected adoption notice from Foster's, Bloo spied his cell phone. A cell phone- he could contact Frankie! Of course, he'd have to be certain to delete her number immediately afterwards, but by the time he figured out he'd snuck a call, with any luck he'd be far away. At least, he hoped he would be. Otherwise, he'd be royally screwed and six feet under.

Straining his brain, he shoved aside meaningless lyrics and Kip's threats to struggle for her number. After scribbling a few numbers he knew couldn't be right, he finally stumbled upon one that looked about it. If he was wrong, then he'd be right where he started. He had nothing to lose.

Crossing his fingers in his left hand, he dialed with his right and waited. One ring, then two, but, just as he was starting to wonder if her voice mail would respond, she piped up, sounding slightly annoyed. He released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and scrambled to put together what had just happened into reason, because his brain hadn't quite registered it. It was still rather dreary with shock.

"Hello?" Frankie half asked, half snapped. Though he knew the situation was dire, he couldn't help but smile. He was so grateful to hear her voice; he'd almost forgotten why he'd spent the better part of two years avoiding her and Foster's.

"Frankie, we have a problem," Bloo replied, glancing urgently towards the door. In any second, Kip might burst in and discover him. Snakes curled and uncurled in the pit of his stomach. Why hadn't he attacked him when he was down? Better yet, why hadn't he just said no to fame, fortune, and everything that went along with it? The instant he thought that, he shook his head. He knew he'd never have done that, because the old him was so attracted to it. Now, unfortunately, he knew a lot better.

"I know…Kip's going to try to kill you tomorrow, but we won't let him get away with it if we can help it," Frankie replied smugly, pounding on a door. Bloo blinked, trying to place the sound. Metal…but the only metal he knew that had that sound was outside the studio. She couldn't be here, could she? Was that what Mac was talking about?

"He's going to try to kill Mac too-" he halted, mentally backtracking. "Wait, what? How do you know that?"

"He's going to try to kill Mac?" Frankie exploded and Coco shrieked in the background. Cautiously, glancing both ways, he crept to the back door. Pounding ensued and it echoed on his phone. Either Frankie was behind that door or he was a moron.

Yanking it open charily, he came face to face with Frankie for the first time in four years. Ten seconds passed while they stared at each other and then Bloo launched himself at her. Eduardo had to grab her to keep her from falling backwards onto the pavement. In seconds, the four imaginary friends were hugging each other tightly and Frankie wound up in the middle.

"You es all right!" Eduardo cheered, accidentally cuffing Bloo in the head. Bloo winced, but not only because it hurt. Wilt was now peering down to see the matted blood. He frowned and glanced at Frankie, who frowned as well. They separated, Ed still clutching him tightly.

Frankie scrutinized him and saw everything Mac had nearly a month ago. Bags under his eyes that wouldn't fade away, gaunt face and figure, and when he smiled again to alleviate their stress, his smile ended before it reached his eyes. She sighed and hugged him again.

"I'm happy to see you, Bloo, but we have worse troubles. Where's your dressing room?"

Sighing himself, he led them there.

When he arrived, Mac was already sitting on his chair. The two snakes returned and he retreated, only to walk into Frankie. Gently but sternly, she led him to his cot and the rest settled themselves around either Mac or him. Now that he was in the same room, he couldn't even meet his eyes. He found himself counting tiles on the floor.

"Mac, Kip's planning to-" Frankie began, but Mac cut her off. He'd spent the past hour searching in vain for his imaginary friend only to have him arrive with the rest. He didn't care if it was in front of everyone- he wanted answers. Besides, he'd kissed him in front of thousands.

"Bloo, why did you kiss me in front of all those people? If you really are in love with me, why couldn't you have-"

Frankie, Ed, Wilt, and Coco gasped. A sly grin crept across the females' faces, but the males remained stunned into disbelief. All watched, entranced. What had happened in their absence?

"Are you dense or do you just refuse to believe it?" Bloo snapped, rising to his feet. "I am in love with you and I knew you'd never let me touch you like that unless it was at a concert! Otherwise, you'd just shove me away. I know I don't have a chance with you, I know I'm wasting my time, and I know you wish I hadn't written that song, because I do too! I wish I'd never opened my big fat mouth! You're just going to hate me-"

Words tumbled out of his mouth before he could control them. Everyone else in the room faded away into the background. He'd forgotten about Kip and his threats or anyone else. All he felt were the words bursting to free themselves. Every word was like a weight ripped away.

"I never said I hated you, did I?" Mac snapped, ignoring Frankie tugging on his sleeve, Wilt's clearing his throat and telling him to stop, Ed's whimpers, and Coco's trills. "If I hated you, then why would I be here?"

"You hate me now because I said I'm in love with you to thousands of screaming fans! You hate me because I kissed you! You hate me because I threw you away when I wanted to be famous!" Bloo retorted, frustration mounting. Angry tears burned the insides of his eyelids. When he glanced in the mirror, he saw the color had rushed to his face and his hands trembled on the bottom of his desk drawer.

"I don't hate you, Bloo," Mac said softly, stepping behind him and placing his hand over his shaking one. "I don't like what you did, but I think you learned your lesson years ago. Stop telling me why I should hate you."

Bloo spun around and finally looked his creator in the eye. The hand Mac held tingled pleasantly. Giddiness stole over him, but he subdued it immediately when Mac released him. Misery glistened in his eyes.

"But you don't love me like that." It wasn't a question but a statement.

"I…I don't know how I feel. I feel like someone dumped a ton of bricks on my head," he answered ruefully, shrugging apologetically. "I'm sorry."

Frankie rose and cleared her throat. Immersed in their conversation, they both blinked, suddenly remembering they weren't the only two people in the room. Evidently, she surmised as much because she offered Bloo a sympathetic smile. However, the smile vanished quickly.

"I think we've got worse troubles."

Since I only got two reviews as the moment I'm typing this and I'm feeling terribly lazy tonight, I'm not responding. I would like to thank Rakal and Blue for reading and reviewing, although they read the last chapter before it came up. (Another reason I'm not responding, they already know what I have to say).

Until we meet again...