Haha! Many thanks to Whispered Lullabyes for bringing up the point about Gordo not being football player material. I see those stories and they always make me laugh also!

What makes me laugh even more, if you're ever looking on the M side of LM FF, you may see a couple of references to…uh…shall we say…how many inches Gordo might be blessed with. In which case he shouldn't be directing movies, he should be IN them, and I don't mean your standard feature films playing down at the local theatre. Sorry if I'm being crude, but my point is that I prefer to work in a FF world that is relatively cannon and within the realms of probability.

BTW, this is the penultimate chapter---meaning, for those of you who are not keeping up with the latest in the Series of Unfortunate Events---that this is the next to the last chapter. I wind everything up in Chapter 5, which will happily be called "A New Day." Sorry, cka3ka, I just couldn't make it too dark!

But, as a matter of fact, I am working on something else that may be a bit darker than this. Working title is Teenager, inspired by the Better Than Ezra song of the same name, and it follows a Goth Ethan Craft and his best friend Veruca as they go to a concert and later have a run-in with some old friends. I'm pretty sure it's an original. If anyone is aware of any existing FF where Ethan and Veruca are Goths, please let me know!

One more note before I begin. Once again, Florida is being threatened by a hurricane, which we should begin feeling within the next 24 hours. I'm hoping for a repeat of the last several performances: a day off, stuck in the house, with electricity, writing, while only a few branches are pulled off the trees outside. From my keyboard to God's ears! Even if I do not post another chapter in the next few days, I will at least update my LJ to say I am okay, for those who might be wondering,

And now, to continue the story, just outside Make Out Cove...

-

-

11:50 p.m.

Gordo stood alone in the shadows for only a moment before he was spotted by a very drunk Ethan Craft.

"Gor---don!" Ethan called, slapping him on the back. "Wassup, dude?"

"Hey, Ethan," Gordo said unenthusiastically. "What's up? Frank," he added, nodding to Ethan's friend, a beefy boy he didn't particularly like.

"Gordon," Frank acknowledged, punching him in the arm. "You're alright, bro. Everything cool, huh?"

Gordo forced a smile. "Yeah. Everything's peachy."

"Another beer?" Frank asked, and Gordo instantly understood that the reason he was suddenly "alright" in Frank's eyes was because he had been deceived by Gordo's beer drinking act.

Before Gordo could answer in regards to the beer, Ethan interjected, "No time for that, dude! Lizzie's been looking for you. She's walking all over the place asking everyone 'Have you seen Gordo? Oh where, oh where can my Gordo be?'" Here Ethan stopped and laughed at his own falsetto rendition of Lizzie.

Then he said, "Why aren't you with Lizzie, dude? That McGuire, she's on fire!" Now Ethan stopped and laughed at his own joke. "Why do you keep a fine lady like that waiting?"

"I was just getting ready to hook up with Lizzie," Gordo said, seeing his opportunity to get out of this conversation.

"No, hold on," Ethan said, reaching out a hand to halt Gordo's escape. "Don't run off, Gor-don. I've got a primo location all lined up for you and Lizzie, but you've got to lay claim. Come around here with me and I'll get you all set up."

Ethan put his arm around Gordo's shoulder and began to walk him around to the other side of the rocks. "What are you talking about, Craft?" Gordo wondered.

"I'm talking about a room. With a view. And the upmost in privacy. Very nice, top of the line. Smithers and his little Suzy should be just about ready to vacate. I can get you in, but we got to move fast. This spot won't last long. Get Lizzie on her cell and call her over."

Hearing the mention of Smithers and Suzy, and seeing the direction they were headed, Gordo at last understood exactly what Ethan was talking about. "I---I---I—" he began.

"Come on, Gor-don. Don't be shy. I'm telling you, this place is private."

"I don't think privacy is the issue for Gordon," Frank suddenly contributed, walking just behind them. "I hear Gordon's got different issues."

Now they were around the rocks, and the light from the bonfire no longer illuminated. In a moment Gordo's eyes could almost see couples here, there and everywhere, in varying stages of undress, in various stages of making out. He could decipher their moans. Again, he felt his stomach churning.

"I heard something about you, Gordon," Frank went on.

"Oh yeah?" Ethan wondered. "What did you hear about my man Gor-don?"

Gordo knew what was coming, but before he could think of a way to stop it, Frank laughed loudly and said, "I heard your man Gordon here has been known to lose his raincoat in a storm."

Gordo cringed. He wouldn't have put it quite so poetically, but there was no doubt now that the story had gotten around.

Ethan joined Frank in loud laughter. "Ha ha! Yeah! I heard that too."

"Where did you hear crap like that?" Gordo demanded.

"I don't know. Round about. Everybody's talking."

If ever there was a moment when Gordo wished he was anywhere but here, this was it. Once again, not knowing how to deal with guys, he considered all his options, everything from joining the laughter to beating the shit out of both Ethan and Frank. Neither extreme seemed possible, and everything in the middle was equally unattractive. But before he could figure out how to respond, the two bigger boys had led him, practically pushed him, into a small alcove.

"Hey," Frank said suddenly. "Maybe he needs a little help. A little instruction."

"No!" Gordo screamed, ready to bolt.

"Chill, dude! We're not going to do it for you, we're not going to touch it. Sicko! But I'm sure we could find someone to give you a demonstration of the right way to withdraw. Hey, how about Suzy and Smithers? They're right here, and Smithers is such a damn showoff as it is, and Suzy's too wasted to know much of what's going on. I'm sure they wouldn't mind---"

"I'm not going to watch Smithers and his girlfriend having sex!" Gordo exclaimed, but in the next moment, as his eyes adjusted even further to the darkness of the alcove, he realized he already was. There were two figures down on the sand going at it big time.

"Oh, God…" Gordo said, turning away. He shouldn't feel like he was going to vomit, but that's exactly how he felt. And his head was spinning like mad, but somehow he managed to stumble out of the alcove, hearing both Ethan and Frank behind him, shouting, "Hey, Gordon! Where ya goin'?' and then there was something about some people being so unappreciative, though in their drunken state, the long word came out sounding somewhat different.

Gordo ran out of there as fast as he could. Another moment more and he could see the light of the bonfire. And then, as he staggered up the path, he ran headlong into Lizzie, coming to find him.

"Gordo!" she exclaimed. "Where were you? You weren't in Make Out Cove, were you? Who were you there with? Gordo! Answer me!"

Lizzie sounded a bit frantic, imagining the embarrassment of her boyfriend cheating on her in such a public setting. Her imaginary embarrassment, however, could not compare to what Gordo was feeling at this moment in response to the fallout from her very real indiscretions about their personal life.

"Lizzie!" he screamed, hearing his own voice as more harsh than he knew it could sound. "What the hell? What the fuck? Do you know what you've done? Do you have any idea?"

"Gordo! What are you talking about?"

"Oh my God! You are so clueless! You are so stupid!"

"Gordo!" Lizzie screamed desperately, scared and confused. "What happened? What are you talking about?"

Around the edges of his peception Gordo knew that people were stopping to listen. A lover's quarrel was always good entertainment. He knew he should stop right there, but he found he could not stop.

He heard himself go on, saying, "Everybody knows! Everybody knows what happened between us, it's all over the place. You don't think that's freakin' embarrassing? You couldn't see what was going to happen when you told your friends? Your fuckin' stupid friends? Or maybe you don't care. Do you not care, Lizzie? Or is it that you're too stupid to know? Which one is it, Lizzie? Don't know? Or don't care? Or is it a little of both?"

"Gordo!" Lizzie cried, and by this time she really was crying. Some of her friends, the stupid friends Gordo had just insulted, came to her side, putting their arms around her and yelling at him to "Get the fuck out of Lizzie's face, you asshole!"

Gordo didn't pay them any mind. He just kept yelling and screaming. He didn't even know what he was saying after a while. He only knew this was it, he was flipping out, he had cracked. He was having a nervous breakdown and everybody was there to witness it.

Well, everybody but Miranda. But then she was there as well, and seeing her come to the front of the crowd that had gathered was the only thing that could somehow restore to him some sense of who he really was. She looked him right in the eye and said firmly, "Gordo. Stop it. Just stop."

And then he did. He just stopped. He stared at her, and he stared at Lizzie, wailing in the background, surrounded by her stupid friends. Lizzie….Miranda…and Gordo. Something thumped back into his soul.

Oh my God! he thought. Who am I? What am I doing?

Everything was deadly silent the moment Gordo stopped screaming. He could actually hear the waves beating against the rocks. Everybody was looking at him. Numbly he scanned the faces, all the astonished expressions. He knew what they were all thinking: Little David Gordon finally lost his brilliant mind. And I was there to witness it. This was going to make such a good story back in school on Monday.

Gordo felt his eyes glazing over. There was no other way to deal with this upmost embarrassment than to simply pass out. That was probably the best solution. He felt he was going to pass out.

Until his eyes ran over Miranda. She alone held his gaze with something other than astonishment, ridicule, contempt. In her large brown eyes he could easily see her concern, how much she was hurting for him.

He didn't want anyone to be hurting for him. He couldn't take any more human interaction. It was all bullshit. He wanted to be alone. He turned quickly and disappeared.

-

-

12:10 a.m.

The way this beach area was set up, there was very little good parking close by, so Gordo had been forced to leave his car in a small office parking lot several blocks away. The walk from here to the beach earlier this evening had been all about friends and conversation, anticipation for an enjoyable night, but now Gordo found himself taking the return trip alone and fighting back tears.

He still didn't know who he was or what he was doing, but he did know it was unlikely he was going to reach his car before the first sob that was stuck in his throat, demanding release, finally made its way into the thin early morning air.

He was fumbling with the key in the lock when the sob finally broke forth, piercing the darkness like the cry of a wild animal. He threw himself into the driver's seat, and in the safety of his very own car, it all came out.

So this is what it's like to have a nervous breakdown, he thought as he wailed. He had heard his parents the psychiatrists talk about all kinds of mental and emotional conditions on numerous occasions. If he had to perform a self- diagnosis at this moment, he would say nervous breakdown.

And in the next moment he chided himself for doing a self-diagnosis and not just letting this happen. Why was it that he could never simply turn off his brain and be in the moment? He had to analyze freaking everything! What kind of sick bastard was he? No wonder he was so messed up.

This chiding inner dialog went on for some time, as did his tears and sobs, and at last he began to feel somewhat better, though completely exhausted.

He looked at the clock. It was 12:30. It was a new day, and he had been awake, except for that brief nap on the living room couch, exactly twenty and a half hours. Were people really supposed to stay awake that long, running and thinking and fighting and doing everything they could to try to please everyone else in their lives except themselves? It wasn't right, it wasn't right, it wasn't—

"Ahhh!" Gordo jumped.

He looked at the passenger side window and saw a hand knocking on the glass..