Note: The rating has been upped to R for a reason. It may not be strictly necessary, but the chapter content may disturb a few people. And we'd have to raise the rating later anyway. -grin- Enjoy.

Everything You've Done Wrong

And the joke is

When he awoke his

Body was covered in Coke fizz

-Sloan, Money City Maniacs

Chapter Five: Feed Your Head

"David, you know there isn't a chance," Race mumbled into the telephone, all the while trying to find his calamari recipe, which he was positive was stolen by Sophia. "Mussolini wants to kill me. I'm not going anywhere."

"Tony, come on. I'm not begging you to come for me or for the guys. You've been getting flack all week, I know you have. You need a party. You'll feel a lot better."

"Oh yeah, and I'm sure his asshole-ness himself agrees."

"So don't tell him."

"He knows everything." Race flipped open a cupboard, and found the recipe on a post it, stuck to the door. "Heeere we go..."

"Tony--"

"Besides, how the hell could I actually face them again? Christ, I invited them over and my dad humiliated them--"

"Tony, Mush and I already told you. He humiliated you, we were just... There. No one blames you."

"Yeah, right."

"Hey, since when don't you trust me?" David demanded. "Mush and Blink talked for hours that night; Blink felt awful about everything, but he knew it wasn't your fault. Jack said the same thing to me, and even Spot..." He trailed off.

"What about Spot?"

"He understands too. And if you can get Spot to feel bad for you--"

"I don't fucking want people to feel bad for me, Dave! I fight with my dad, who doesn't? It doesn't matter."

"Would you stop acting so paranoid!?" David snapped on the other end. Race stopped scanning his eyes at the post-it note. He was silent. "God, I wouldn't LIE to you, you know. Me and Mush we... well, we look out for you for a reason, so would you at least LET us?"

Race didn't say anything, and instead busied himself with finding ingredients on the spice rack. He didn't want to reply. David was entering foreign territory right now. Territory that Race didn't want to venture into.

"Tony, stop ignoring me."

"I'm busy right now."

David sighed on the other end. "Well, I'm not hanging up."

"Well, I am."

"Tony, god, why do you freak out every time people are nice to you? It's not the end of the world or anything; we're your friends."

"Yeah, sure."

"What, you don't believe that? Christ, you're an idiot sometimes. Mush and me--three years we've known you; if we didn't like you don't you think we'd have let you know by now?"

"There's a difference between liking someone and tolerating his presence."

"Well, you're just a bundle of sunshine today, aren't you?"

"Listen, I don't call people to talk about everything that's wrong with me."

"I called you."

"That's not the point. I already know I'm a-"

"STOP IT." David's voice was yelling in Race's ear, and startled him into hitting his hand on the counter, which was fairly painful. "I want you to come to this party because I care about you and I'm worried about you, and I just want you to have a nice time for ONCE in your LIFE."

Race shook his hand slightly, which was sore from its crash with the kitchen counter. He blushed a little.

David and Mush had never said anything like that before.

He didn't reply for a long time.

"Tony? Are you still there?" David finally asked.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Okay. David, I... Christ."

"Don't worry, just stop arguing with me, okay?"

"Fine."

"Good."

Race went back to his recipe. "It's just, I'm pretty much grounded until I die, so I'm not supposed to go out at all, and if I go out with you guys... I mean, I want to..."

"Can you sneak out?"

"From my dad? Are you fucking kidding me? He'd find out; he finds everything out."

"Well--" Race heard yelling on the other line. "Sarah, I'm on the PHONE!...no, go away!" More random noises were heard, then David swore under his breath. "She can be so...okay, I have to go, but I'll call you right back, okay? And we'll find out what we can do about this and it'll be fine. You're coming. No buts."

Before he could respond, David hung up. Race snorted and hung up the phone, deciding the only way to calm his nerves was to finish up making the calamari, and then pound out a good beat on the set. He really needed to play. But his groaning stomach was begging for food first.

When Race turned around to flip on the stove, Sophia entered the kitchen.

"Ciao, Rosetta," Race said casually. She didn't respond and he raised an eyebrow. "Sophia?"

"I can help you..." she said softly.

Great. Sophia'd heard him whine about being a fuck up. He hated it when his sisters saw him lose it.

"It's fine, Sophia; I don't need your help. I'm fine."

"Yeah, that was real convincing, Tony." She perched on the counter and watched him cook. "You know Izzy's coming home tonight; she'll talk to Dad for you."

"I don't want her to."

"You'd rather be grounded for the rest of your life and never see your friends again?"

"Than beg Isabella to ask Dad on my behalf? Yeah."

"You don't have to beg, idiot; she'll do it anyway. She always does. She worries about you. We all do."

"Great. First David and now you--I'm not sure how much more sympathy I can stand."

"This isn't sympathy, I don't feel bad for you, I just think you're stupid. But I do worry about you. Because you're stupid."

"I can't tell if you're trying to comfort me or not."

"I'm trying to tell you that you're stupid," Sophia resolved, shrugging. She kept the meaning of her comment to herself, but something in the way she called him stupid didn't seem like an insult. Maria may have been Race's favorite, but he loved Sophia so much he could hardly stand it sometimes.

"Okay, well, you're ugly," he replied. Sophia smiled.

"I was just wondering, um..." She reddened slightly while Race finished up heating the stove and finally cooking the breaded calamari. "Well..."

Race raised an eyebrow. "This timid, graceful thing doesn't work for you."

"Oh, shut up," she replied. "I just wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away."

"Stop being impatient."

"Stop being annoying."

"Well, stop being stupid!" she snapped. "What I'm saying is, Isabella can talk to Dad, and if you want to go to the party I heard you talking about, I can get you off the hook for the night."

"What?"

"Look. You just go; I'll cover and tell dad you're at a study group or something."

"Like he'll believe that."

"I'll make it work."

"Sophia, I--thanks for the offer, but if I fuck up one more time--"

"You didn't fuck up, you made friends and Dad didn't like them. But I liked them and I don't think it's fair. Okay?"

He stared at her for a second. "You really think you can cover for me?"

"Yes."

"Thanks."

"--but there's a price, brother dear."

Race rolled his eyes. "For a second there, I thought you were doing something out of the kindness of your own heart. But then I remembered, 'No! That's impossible'."

"I'll ignore that," Sophia snapped.

She didn't say anything after that. In fact, her face had turned red again and Race was growing suspicious. "Sophia?...what's this 'price'?"

"Well, uh..." She cleared her throat. "You have...you have Gabriel's phone number. Right?"

Silence.

"No."

"Tony!"

"No way."

"No you don't have it? Or you're saying no?"

"I don't have it! And also, no!"

"TONY!"

"Well, I don't have it."

"But you can get it. Or you can give him mine. And tell him to call so I know you did it!"

"Sophia!"

"What, are you going to claim he's not good enough for me? I thought that was what Dad thought."

"Of course he's--he's real nice, yeah, but Sophia! He's one of my friends! And you're my sister, and..." He trailed off and shuddered.

"Better I date one of your friends than someone you've never met, right?"

"Better you date no one at all, and join a convent."

"Tony!"

Uh oh. Pleading face. Maria was the master of pleading faces, but Race never said no to Maria anyway. However, Sophia never, ever begged Race for anything. And though part of Race was convinced he was being a good brother, another part, a smarter one, was telling him he was being an ass.

Race sighed. "Do you really like him?"

Sophia bit her lip. "Well, if I got to know him, I think I might." Race stared at her. "Come on, Tony. Just this once, please let me be a normal teenage girl instead of one whose brother who wont even let me wear tank tops."

Race groaned. "God, I hate you."

"That's a yes, isn't it?"

He glared at her. "Do you want me to give him your cell or the landline?"

"Cell, please. I don't want Dad listening in. I don't think he'd approve."

"I think he's got our cells tapped, Sophia."

"Paranoia? You're not sniffing again, are you?"

"You think that's paranoia? He's a lunatic."

"He's your father."

"He's yours, too."

She shrugged. "He does love you, Tony. You just... Frustrate him."

"Sophia, it's easier for you to not hate his goddamn guts, because he doesn't want you to go around shooting people from black limos and wearing goddamn Armani suits."

"This isn't the Godfather, you know. And Dad isn't Robert DeNiro."

"My point is, when it comes to Dad, back off."

Sophia sighed, and nodded. "Fine...so...will you give Gabriel my number?"

"...yeah." Sophia kissed his cheek and squealed, and then Race grinned. "And it's Marlon Brando. Not DeNiro."

"Sorry."

"Some Italian you are."

She rolled her eyes and started to reply, but the phone rang and he picked it up and waved her to leave him alone. "Hello?"

"Tony. So, you're coming tonight."

"Yep."

"Because you deserve to have fun."

"Okay."

"So we'll find a way to--you said okay?"

"Yeah; Sophia's going to cover for me."

"Oh." David paused. "Good! Should Mush pick you up, or--"

"I'll grab a bus, that way Dad doesn't have a chance of seeing Mush and no one recognizes my car."

"Paranoid freak."

"Yeah, yeah..."

"So I'll see you?"

"Yeah."

"Tony?"

"What?" David didn't say anything. "Uh oh, you're going to say something lame aren't you?"

"No. Now I'm not."

Race laughed. "I'll see you tonight, okay? And uh...this is all at Blink's, right?"

"Yeah."

Race was getting distracted by Sophia, who kept poking his arm and muttering 'Gabriel!' over and over. "Is Itey going to be there?" Race said with an annoyed tone.

"Uh...yeah. Is that okay?"

"Sophia made me ask."

Sophia slapped his arm as David laughed on the other line. "Oooohhh."

"Yep."

"Jack is gonna love that."

"The only reason I agreed to give him her number is to see the look on Jack's face."

He laughed. "All right; I'll let people know you're coming."

Finally, David said his goodbye's, and hung up the phone, and Race went back to his calamari, which was finished by now. Sophia was opening the fridge, taking out an apple and a bottle of water, looking a little flushed.

"So, I'll give him your number tonight, okay?" Race said. "And uh...well, he's a good guy and everything. So..."

"Right." Sophia nodded. "I'll talk to Daddy." She kissed his cheek again, and left the room.

Race proceeded to take his bowl of calamari upstairs and drown himself in some music.

It had already been a week since the dinner; he'd never been allowed to go to parties on week nights, and while he'd made up with David and Mush at school already, he hadn't seen or heard from anyone else, except second hand. He both looked forward to seeing them and dreaded it; a week was a long time to be trapped in the house, with no human contact aside from his family.

And his father wasn't particularly speaking to him, though he didn't mind that too much.

But eventually, his parents went out for an evening at a friend's, and he stopped and knocked on the door to Sophia's room. "Maria is at a friend's for the night, so I'm just gonna..."

"Yeah, yeah," she answered, then paused and reached on to her desk, and shoved a slip of paper into his hand. He glanced down at it; it turned out to be a copy of her school picture from that fall. "For Gabriel, if he wants it. My number is on the back."

Race actually managed to smile at that. "Yeah, he'll want it," he promised.

Race turned to leave her impeccably neat room, which was decorated with symphony orchestra posters, and glanced back at her. "Uh...you sure you want to be alone?"

"It's fine. I'll invite Jess and Lisa over or something."

Race gave her forehead a kiss. "I'll call you, okay? To check up."

"Okay, mom."

Race left Sophia's room, and started down the stairs. He was forbidden to use the car again until the next night, and he was counting the hours. He was stuck with crappy bus service again. He really wished he had David to ride the bus with--bus rides with David were fun.

But at least the bus was on time, which was more than he usually hoped for, and it was only an almost hour long trip. Which was only about thirty-five minutes by car, but still. It was nearly seven thirty by the time he arrived at the corner near Blink's, and as he walked he began to almost regret going. Aside from the fact that he could potentially be in a LOT of trouble for this, he couldn't even be sure that Blink and the others didn't hate him. David claimed they didn't, but it was possible they were just trying to make David feel better, since they assumed they'd see him again.

But he arrived at Blink's, saw that the garage door was actually closed, and so he nervously knocked on the front door. It swung open a moment later, with David behind it. "Hey! You're here! Good!" He grabbed Race's wrist and dragged him into the interior of the house, which Race abruptly realized he'd never seen before.

It was messy, though it looked like someone had attempted to clean hastily. The room was full, Race only recognized a few people, but the people who knew him all seemed to go silent and stare.

Race cleared his throat as Jack scratched the back of his head, Dutchy cracked his knuckles and darted his eyes around the room... but he ignored them and walked purposefully over to Itey.

"This," Race dug into his pocket, making a show of it to Jack, and pulled out the photo of Sophia, "is for you."

Itey blinked, and took the picture. When he saw what it was, he blushed.

"Her number is on the back," Race said. Itey smiled up at him.

"Geeze, thanks Ton-"

Race grabbed the front of Itey's collar and pulled him close. "If you ever make her cry, I'm going to make you cry, which I promise you will be much more painful."

Itey stared at him for a second, then nodded.

"I'm serious. I'll break every bone in your body."

"I believe you," Itey smiled. "I'll be very, very kind. And gentlemanly. And... Avoid having you hurt me."

"Good." Race smiled, releasing his hold on Itey's shirt. "She says hi, by the way. Make sure you call her soon; she's the one covering for me tonight and if you don't, she'll kill me, and then my dad will kill me, and probably her too."

"Tony, I want to call her."

"Good."

"Drink, Tony?" Blink called from the door to what, Tony assumed, was the kitchen.

"Uh... yeah, please."

Blink nodded, but was then pushed to the side by Spot, who emerged with two beers, a grin on his face, and a very nice fitting pair of jeans that had a guitar patch stitched into the knee, and a tight, light green Che Guvarez shirt.

"Alcohol. Drink up," Spot said, handing him the bottle, and then biting off the cap of his own bottle. Race stared open-mouthed.

"I keep telling you that's going to put your teeth out." Itey winced. Mush appeared from the kitchen behind him.

"Don't stop doing that," Mush said to Spot, slightly drooling. "Ever."

"Gee, see something you like, Mush?" Spot smirked.

"Hey!" Blink yelped. "Hands off, he's mine!"

Mush grinned and blew Blink a kiss, Spot made a fake retching noise, and downed a surprising amount of his drink without pausing for breath. "Drink up, Tony."

Race opened his bottle--NOT using his teeth, given how much his braces had cost back in middle school--and took a few swigs, then awkwardly sat down on the free sofa.

"So," Dutchy said finally.

"Okay, time to clear the air. Tony, you get to talk for ten seconds, and that's all we're hearing because we already know it wasn't your fault," Blink commented.

"You've been talking to Mush and David too much," Race answered.

"Ten starting.... now."

Race didn't want to oblige, but he figured, why the hell not? After all...he did have to say something.

"My father is a total shit head, and I don't share any of his opinions and I'm sorry about everything he said and did because you guys are..." Race took a breath. "Kind of my friends."

"Oh oh, you hear that?" Jack raised his bottle. "Hear that, we're his friends!"

"Shut up." Race glared.

"You know," Blink gave a fake, long sigh, "I... I think this calls for a hug."

"Try it and I'll kick your ass."

"Now there's the Tony we know and love," Itey noted.

"Shut up."

"Awwww."

"Seriously."

"Yeah; Tony doesn't deal well with displays of affection," David mocked. "They freak him out."

"Do they really?" Spot mused, set down his beer, and launched himself at Race, wrapped his arms around him and hissed in his ear, "Aww, you caught me."

"Fuck off," Race answered and shoved Spot off of him.

"Spot, he's straight," Mush reminded him, as Spot slid into the seat next to Race and reached for his beer again.

"Drink up," Spot said. "Cheers." He finished his drink.

Mush rolled his eyes. Earlier, before most of the other people had arrived, Spot had mentioned something to Mush about getting Race as drunk as humanly possible. Mush hoped to keep his eye on Race for the rest of the night, but it was hard to do when Blink was looking so fabulous.

"You wanna go somewhere private?" Blink mumbled into Mush's hair as he slipped his arm's around his waist. Mush smiled up at him.

"Yeah," he replied, giving the hollow of Blink's jaw a kiss. "It seems like we haven't been alone in forever."

Blink grinned and took Mush's hands. "Have fun, kiddies," he said loudly, and then nodded at Race. "Don't worry, okay? Relax."

Race grinned, and took another sip of beer, and raised an eyebrow at Spot. "What?"

"Nothing," Spot said, finishing up his own beer.

"You're evil," Mush snapped at Spot as he and Blink left. Spot just shot him a smile, and didn't reply.

"What the hell was that about?" Race demanded.

"Spo-ot has a cru-ush..." Jack said in a sing song voice, which lead Spot to throw his empty bottle at Jack. Not maliciously, and he missed (clearly on purpose), and Jack started laughing. "Poor Spotty-wotty, crushing on a straight boy..."

Spot rolled his eyes, and Race took a long drink and glanced over at Spot.

"Ignore him."

"Planned to."

Spot grinned. "Oh, good. Want another drink?"

"Uh, not yet, thanks."

"Come on, lighten up. You heard Blink," Spot answered, and nodded at Dutchy, who had re-entered the room with a box of Kokanee's. "Toss over two."

Dutchy seemed wired. He was slightly flushed, and he was laughing a lot. "Yeah, sure! Geezus, I am so going to get totally smashed tonight you have no freaking clue." He said this all very quickly as he chucked two bottles of beer over to Spot.

Spot handed one to Race, who took it without looking at him. Race gave Dutchy a confused look, and then shook his head, and glanced at Spot.

"Are you an alcoholic?" Race asked, half-sarcastic, as Spot started drinking his second beer, quite rapidly.

"Nope. High tolerance; takes a lot to get me drunk. You?"

"I do all right for myself."

"Wanna try a drinking contest, then?"

"Uh, no?"

"Wuss."

"Bitch."

"Midget."

"Anorexic."

Dutchy burst into giggles, and Race gave him an odd look. "You okay?" he asked.

"Fine! You two are just... Soooo adorable together, you know? All yelling at each other and everything, it's like something out of a movie..."

"You are on so much crack," Jack told him.

"Heh. Am not."

Race's face fell. "He's what?"

"I'm not ANYTHING," Dutchy exclaimed, and snorted as he started laughing again. Race looked at Jack, his eyes asking the question he didn't want to voice out because...well, because of a lot of things.

"Don't worry about it," Jack answered, sipping his beer.

"Worry about what?" Race said, his voice monotone.

"Seriously, don't." Spot shrugged. "It's just Dutchy."

"I'M Dutchy, you fucker," Dutchy answered.

"That's my point. He's just weird. You get used to it."

"Okay." Race looked around and found David standing in a doorway, looking on, amused. He managed to catch David's eye, and David shrugged a little; he didn't see any problem. He'd known Dutchy for a lot longer, Race supposed, so he decided to try and stop worrying and went back to drinking, and wondered if this was how he'd started drinking at the first party he'd been at. Except this time he knew the people, which was why it was awkward. Dutchy was crazy, Spot was (sort of) hitting on him, and, he decided, he wasn't nearly drunk enough.

Race discovered many things as the night progressed. For one thing, Spot could drink a bottle of beer in eighteen seconds flat, which he did three times in a row, and somehow, he remained still fairly sober. His speech was slurred, but he knew what he was doing.

However, he was growing more and more erotic, and Race didn't know if that was even the alcohol.

"You gonna drink 'nymore?" Spot asked, leaning back and sipping from a water bottle. Jack had given it to him to sober him up a little, even if Spot wasn't too drunk in the first place.

"I might," Race said, his third beer still in hand. "Where do you keep all that beer? You're not even near gone."

"'S a talent," Spot answered. "Got it from my old man."

"He drank a lot?"

Spot paused, perhaps saying more than he meant to. Then he shrugged. "Yeah. Sometimes."

A yell came from across the room and Race saw that some random girl had taken off her shirt and was dancing on a table. Race rolled his eyes, and glanced around. "Where'd everyone go?" he asked Jack.

"Mush and Blink are probably still at it," he answered. "And David's talking to some chick from his piano recitals." Jack sipped his beer. "Itey called Sophia ten minutes ago. Think he's still on the phone."

Race rolled his eyes and Jack snickered.

"Dutchy went home a few minutes ago, though."

Spot made a confused face. "Why the fuck would he go home? This is a freaking party."

"Said he had to feed his dog."

"Uh. He skipped out on a party to feed his dog?" Race asked incredulously.

"Yeah...? He just lives down the street, he'll be back in a minute."

Race hesitated and considered the facts: Dutchy was too skinny and had no appetite. Dutchy seemed to either hear things or talk to himself a lot. Dutchy had frequent nosebleeds and had walked in looking oddly euphoric.

Race put down his beer. He hated himself for it, but, "Where does he live? Walking distance?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

"Just... Want to make sure he's okay; he was pretty drunk when he left."

"Not that drunk."

"I'll just be a minute. Where's he live?"

Jack shrugged and gave him directions; he hesitated for another second and headed off. It was just paranoia, but he had to be sure. He had to be.

"What's he so worried about?" Spot said, looking slightly pissed that Race had left him sitting on the couch to go see how Dutchy was doing. Jack sighed.

"I dunno. I mean, Dutchy's done shit like, once or twice. I guess Tony is just paranoid. You know."

Spot didn't answer.

*

Dutchy's house was small, and white, and it was almost like no one else lived there but Dutchy. The door wasn't locked, and Race wasn't surprised, but he was getting more and more worried by the minute. His suspicions were slowly being confirmed by each step he took as he walked into the house and shut the door behind him. He didn't lock it either.

"Dutchy?" he called. "Dutchy?"

What he heard was a fit of laughter from another room, and he followed the sound, opened the last door, and there was Dutchy, laughing his ass off, his nose bleeding, his pupils dilated and a small bag of white powder on the table in front of him. There wasn't much left in the bag.

Race stared at Dutchy. He stared at the bag on the table. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

He didn't say anything for a moment. He just stared at the bag for what felt like hours, even if it was only minutes.

And he realized, with frightening realism, that he wanted everything in that bag with a fierce lust. It looked inviting, and white, and soothing. Race pushed the feelings away, shaking his head. He was stressed out, of course it wouldn't be easy to look at a bag of cocaine. But he was here for Dutchy.

"Dutchy, you fucker, come on," Race growled, walking over to him and grabbing his arm. Dutchy shook him off violently.

"Tony!" Dutchy said cheerfully. "You wanna party with me?"

Yes, Race thought. "No, that shit'll fuck you up."

"Awwww, come on. You gotta be stressed, man, it lets you let go. You gotta be stressed, I met your dad." He giggled. "He thinks I'm a drug addict."

"You are a drug addict."

Dutchy laughed again. He definitely looked like he was having fun. "Yeah," he said. "I am. Come on, just a little bit. Have fun with me. No one else will..."

"Dutchy, that's 'cause it's stupid," Race said, his voice sounding pathetically less and less convincing. He'd never had to give this kind of speech before, just heard it. He knew the words, but couldn't read the lines.

"Come oooon, Tonyyy," Dutchy slurred. "It sucks kinda, sometimes. I'm always on my own." He started laughing. "I'm a fucking LOSER."

Dutchy laughed hysterically, saying random, fast things, and Race stood there, watching. He should have been disgusted now that he saw what he'd been like. But he wasn't. He wasn't disgusted at all.

He was tempted.

He was so tempted it hurt; so tempted he felt like he'd just come down, like the only thing in the entire world that would get him through the next ten minutes was if he could get back up. Two years slipped away; two years of being clean, of ignoring cravings, of hard work to try and earn back the respect of his family, to pay back Mush and David for all the times they'd saved him from himself, two years of strength.

It was gone in an instant. He felt like he was in a desert and what sat on the table was a glass of water. He didn't just want it, he needed it to survive.

He couldn't manage a coherent thought. Half-formed images ran through his brain: drug tests, his father, his friends, his sisters, all of them reasons to get the hell out of Dutchy's house. He could tell the others; Mush and David, at least, had experience with helping addicts. But he didn't want to do that. He wanted to sit down. He wanted to be happy. And that was all he could feel.

He knew he needed to think, and that he couldn't think while staring at the cocaine. He wouldn't be able to think so long as he knew it was nearby, somewhere he could get to it. He wouldn't be able to, not unless he calmed the hell down.

There was really only one way he could think of to calm down when faced with cocaine.

He sat down at the table next to Dutchy.

*

Mush and Blink appeared back at the party about an hour and a half after they'd locked themselves in Blink's room. Blink looked slightly dazed and Mush looked slightly goofy and both looked very in love.

They sat down on the couch, and Spot looked did not look slightly dazed, goofy, or even happy. He just looked annoyed. "Hey, nice fuck?"

"Yes," Mush answered, and Blink giggled. Spot rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't roll your eyes, you're just pissed because Tony doesn't want you."

"Yes, he does."

"No, Spot, he doesn't."

"He just doesn't know it yet," Spot grumbled, reaching for another beer. Jack took it away from him.

"Where is he, anyway? Did he," Mush started laughing and tried to finish the sentence, "find the hot chick he was making out with last time?"

"Fuck you."

"He went to go check on Dutchy," Jack answered. "Like, fifteen minutes ago."

"Check on Dutchy?" Mush asked.

"Yeah; his dad got him paranoid. He thinks Dutchy might be on drugs or something," Jack explained. "Ran over to his house to make sure, should be back any time."

Mush hesitated, then remembered he didn't really know these guys as well as he kept thinking he did--except Blink, of course--and asked, "Is Dutchy on drugs?"

"Uh, sometimes? He and I used to smoke together, but I stopped and he... Didn't, really, but he doesn't usually do anything else," Blink answered.

"Usually," Mush repeated. "When he does, what does he...?"

"God, I don't know. He's Dutchy; it's what he does. He'll be fine."

Mush swallowed hard. "Cocaine?" he asked.

Jack shrugged. "Yeah, could be, I guess. Why?"

The next moment was one that would live on in the minds of the boys who saw it for years to come: it was the moment when Mush, seemingly, lost his mind.

"YOU..." Mush's eyes went wide. "You...YOU LET TONY..." Then he was standing, and shouting loud, his face red. "You let Tony fucking go where there's FUCKING COCAINE?!"

No one said anything as Mush searched the room. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" he screamed at Jack as he grabbed his jacket, which was discarded on a chair. "HOLY SHIT, this could...this could mess everything up oh my god oh my god oh my god...."

"Mush, settle down!" Blink exclaimed, rushing towards him. "It's-"

"I can't SETTLE DOWN," Mush hissed. "I can't...you all...you all do whatever you want, but I NEED to get to Tony!" He turned to Jack. "Where's David?"

"I-"

"DAVID. Where is he?!"

"He's in the next--"

"DAVID!"

David appeared in the room, looking startled, because Mush never screamed like that. He'd yell to get someone's attention, but only to make his voice louder; he never screamed like he was angry, because Mush just didn't get angry.

"What?" David asked.

"Tony is--fucking--I've got to--someone fucking tell him what happened!" Mush managed to say, already moving towards the door, and he slammed it shut afterwards hard enough to rattle the windows in the room.

David stared at his friends. "What about Tony?" he asked.

There was a silence.

"WHAT happened?" David asked again.

"We don't know," Blink said finally. "He went to check on Dutchy, Mush found out that Dutchy sometimes snorts coke, and--"

"Oh, Jesus Christ." David's face paled visibly.

"Dave? What the hell is going on?"

David hesitated, then, "Two years ago, Tony did a lot of cocaine and almost died from it. He's been clean since then but--Christ, you don't fucking let a recovering addict in a room with his drug!"

Spot's face turned into an inexplicably guilty expression. "You mean...you mean he was being serious?"

He felt all eyes on him, but he kept looking at David. Who was staring right back at him. "You knew? And you let him go?" David snapped.

"How the hell was I supposed to know he was being fucking serious?!" Spot shot back. "We'd just met and he's going on about being a recovering... recovering fucking addict, and how the hell am I supposed to know he's serious!?"

"Settle down!" Jack commanded. "This is...come on, let's go!" No one moved a second, minus David, who'd ran out of the house in a second, forgetting a jacket. "Come on!" Jack snapped, and just then, Itey stepped into the room.

"Okay, what is all the shouting, because--"

"Come on." Jack grabbed Itey's arm.

"What's-"

"Just come on." Everyone hurried to their feet, and Spot, looking like he'd lost his best friend, stared open eyed at Jack as the others left the house.

"Jack, I..." Spot shook his head. "I had no idea, I didn't-"

"It's okay Spot." Jack nodded. "Just come on."

"Fuck me, I didn't..."

"Come on, Spot."

Spot wanted to say more, but didn't; there was nothing he could really say. But he did follow the group as they dashed the block and a half to Dutchy's house, let themselves in without knocking, and could hear a barely coherent Mush screaming, "No don't you FUCKING dare I swear to God I'll-OHJESUSFUCKINGCHRIST."

David broke into the room as Mush was running out, and they actually collided, which would have been comical if things hadn't suddenly become so serious.

"Nine-one-one. Now!"

David turned around to find the phone, but Blink was already moving to do it, and David followed Mush back into the room, fearing the worst.

It wasn't what he expected, quite. It wasn't Race slumped in a chair, unconscious; it was Dutchy. Still bleeding, but not moving. Race was sitting in a corner of the room, knees pulled up to his chest, not really moving either, but clearly conscious.

"On their way!" Blink yelled, and David walked over to Race.

"Tony?" he asked.

Race looked up at him. There was a blood smear across his face where he'd tried to wipe it clean, and his pupils were barely more than pin pricks.

"I fucked up, Dave," he said, his voice sounding hysterical. "I totally--I totally--" he started laughing, not as though he thought anything was funny, but with the same sort of hysteria and panic, "I totally fucked up!"

"Yes you did," David agreed, his voice cracking. "You really did, but it's going to be fine, okay? You need to settle down."

"Lookit...lookit that." Race was breathing hard, and laughing, going back and forth. "Lookit, if Dutchy dies, it's 'cause I'm a fucking moron!" Then he pushed David away. "Get the fuck away from me, I don't...I don't want you!"

"Tony!" David grabbed Race's shoulders. "Tony...take a look at me."

"David..." Race muttered, his voice shuddering. "David, please..."

It took David a moment to know what Race meant. By then, Spot and Itey had come up behind him, staring in awe at Race.

"Please, David, I just...it's so fucking hard. God!" He put his hands to his ears. "God, I just..." He started laughing again.

"The ambulance will be here in a minute," Blink called from the other room.

"No!" David said sharply. "Tony, stand up. Tony. TONY, stand the fuck up." He grabbed Race's arm and tried to yank; Race refused to let himself be pulled up, just kept laughing, though there were now tears streaming down his face. For a fleeting second David wondered if they were from laughing so hard or because he knew how badly he had fucked up, but it didn't matter. "MUSH!" he snapped. "Help me; we need to get him out of here."

"Shouldn't we let the EMTs...?" Itey asked softly, scared.

"No!" David snapped, as Mush elbowed his way to where Race was sitting.

"Tony, if you don't stand up and walk, I swear to god I'll carry you," Mush said darkly. "I swear to fucking god. Get up."

Race didn't move and Mush took a deep breath, leant down and grabbed him. Mush was taller, stronger, and once he had a grip had no trouble literally throwing Race over his shoulder.

"Where?" Blink asked.

"Your room. No drugs. Locking door." Mush began to walk, and Race must have lost his breath, because he stopped laughing, and started to struggle, but he didn't stand much of a chance. "Stay with Dutchy!" Mush yelled without turning around.

"Mush," Spot said quietly, glancing around, and finally hurrying after him. "Wait. Mush, wait up I'm coming!"

Mush didn't stop, but didn't disagree as Spot hurried next to him. "You have to be prepared to watch him," Mush said in a low voice. "I'm serious, if you come, make yourself useful."

"I got it, okay?" Spot snapped. "Fuck you, I'll help."

"I'm serious, Spot-"

"So am I."

"Mush!" Race snapped out. "Mush, please, I just...I just want to fucking forget everything, just let me have another line because it doesn't matter! Don't you get it, it doesn't matter because everyone hates me anyway! "

"Shut up, Tony."

"No no, it's..." Race started yelling. "PLEASE, MUSH! Just ONE FUCKING MORE, I just need ONE!"

"TONY--"

"I can't think, Mush, put me down! I can't fucking breath, I can't--I know I fucked up--just let me--just so I can concentrate. I just need one more line, I just... I just..."

"No."

"God DAMN it, Mush, I NEED it, don't fucking DO this to me, don't--"

"No."

Race began to thrash violently; he wasn't in a position where he could do much damage, but he did get a knee into Mush's chest hard enough to knock his wind out. Spot was ready to grab Race if he did get loose and tried to go anywhere, but Mush just kept walking.

The forced march to Blink's house seemed to take forever, and it wasn't until they reached the sidewalk in front of it that Mush remembered there were other people still there. "Get them out," he said to Spot. "I'll go in through the garage. Let me know when they're gone."

Spot nodded, not quite sure if he could handle this, but suddenly, he wanted to do everything for Race. Suddenly, Race turned into an entirely different person in his eyes, and every single inch of lust Spot had was replaced with...

With affection.

Race was sick, that was obvious. And then it seemed as if everything he did was explainable. The attitude, the insults, the snobbiness...it didn't matter anymore.

The next few minutes were a blur. Spot couldn't remember even how he'd gotten everyone out of the house. Yelling, screaming, who knew? But it worked. It had worked and he was moving without thinking.

He threw the garage door open and didn't have to say anything; Race had been sitting on the couch, Mush next to him with a hand around his arm, and once again Mush hauled him to his feet. They heard an ambulance scream by outside, and for just a second that seemed to sober Race up, but it didn't last.

Mush dragged him this time, rather than carried, up the stairs to Blink's room.

"What can I do?" Spot asked.

"Sit here. Wait."

"I want to help."

"I know. Look, I--things are going to be noisy, okay? Just ignore them and stay here so that when I need to get out, someone can go back in. Dave should be here soon. He'll explain."

Mush shut the door and Spot sat with his back to it. He couldn't tell exactly what was going on, but could hear bits and pieces.

"...swear to GOD, Meyers, if you don't get out of my fucking way..."

And a crash and yelling, and it sounded painful. Probably from both ends.

An incoherent wail, screaming, hysterical laughter. Mush's voice saying something calm, reassuring, though the words didn't carry through the door.

Shouting. In Italian. Spot wondered what he was saying, but had no way of knowing.

A long quiet. David appeared, followed by Itey and Blink; Jack had gone with Dutchy to the hospital. "What's going on?" David asked, and Spot filled him in as best as he could.

"Shit..." David groaned, and then breathed in, slowly. "Okay, I'm going to go in there, I want the rest of you to stay out here."

"I want to help!" Blink snapped. "Listen, this is my house and--"

"And you don't know how to fucking deal with Tony like this." David's voice cracked. "This isn't a fucking movie, this is REAL. And--"

"FUCK IT, JUST LET ME FUCKING GO!"

The screams on the other side of the door grew loud before lowering once more, back and forth.

David gave them all serious looks, raising his eyebrows. "He kicks. And punches. And yells. He also gets insane. And it's scary. Me and Mush have dealt with it before. So just stay here and do what we tell you."

Then David opened the door, slipped inside, and slammed it shut. Itey, Blink and Spot were silent for awhile, not knowing what to say.

"David, thank god David, you understand, you're going to help--Mush won't HELP me, I just need to--" was all they heard for a minute, and apparently David dispelled Race of any illusions that he was there to do things Mush wouldn't, because after the short pause while David was talking, there was a long, barely human sounding scream.

"Oh, Jesus," Blink murmured, sitting next to Spot. "Oh, Jesus."

"His dad will kill him," Itey said softly. Softly even for Itey, who barely ever seemed to speak above a murmur.

Spot swallowed hard and didn't say anything, but the shrieking from inside, and cursing that was definitely coming from David and sounded like it was caused by something fairly painful, would have drowned him out anyway. But Spot didn't care how much David got hurt--well, didn't care much--he was just worried about Race.

He should have put it together. Race was so worried about Dutchy and drugs; he'd said he was a recovering addict, he'd fucking said it; his dad saying the bloody nose story sounded familiar when they all knew it was a lie...

He should have known not to let Race go alone. He clenched a fist and slammed it into the wall next to him, hard enough that it would bruise the side of his hand, then shook it out. "God damn it," he muttered. "I just... I feel..."

"Helpless?" Itey suggested. Spot nodded. "Me too."

"Yeah," Blink agreed. "What the hell can we do?"

Spot's mind began to race, there had to be something they could do. He started to run through a list of things Race would need; it started with staying locked in a room with no cocaine, and ended with finding a way to avoid his father. Though honestly, they were the same thing.

"Sophia," he said suddenly. "We can convince Sophia to cover for him for the whole night. I don't think he'll be leaving before morning."

Itey nodded, his breath full of shudders and when he swallowed, it sounded painful and forced. "I'll call her, but...but I mean, how will she take this? How will Maria take it? Jesus, listen to him, just listen..." Itey seemed panicked, unsure, and he was starting to rant.

Blink shook his head. "Go call her NOW, man. And try not to hear it, okay?"

Itey nodded, wobbling as he stood up, staring into the air before walking down the hall, slowly, and then rushing, as if his personality was changing that very night.

Blink and Spot didn't talk a moment, and finally the thickness of air started to choke Spot, grabbing hold of him, squeezing words out.

"Fuck it..." Spot moaned. "He told me and I didn't believe him."

"It isn't your fault."

"I fucking just...I mean...god damnit..."

"Spot, come on, don't--"

"No, shut up," Spot snapped. "Shut up, okay? We' fucking got involved in this and now it's in fucking deep and I don't know what the fuck..."

Blink grabbed Spot's shoulders. "SPOT. Stop it!"

"Stop what?" Spot shoved him. "I'm not fucking doing ANYTHING. That's the problem! I can't do anything! "

The door opened then, and Mush appeared.

"He's calming down," he said. "But you two yelling freaks him out, so knock it the fuck off."

He slammed the door again.

"Damn it," Spot hissed, then again under his breath, "God. Fucking. Damn it!"

Blink gave him an odd look. "We're all upset, Spot," he said.

"You think I don't know that?"

"I mean--I mean we are all upset, but you're scaring me. Almost as much as he is." He nodded towards the door. "I knew you thought Tony was hot; I didn't realize you actually liked him."

"Well, I do. So fucking what? He's straight," Spot said bitterly.

"Why?"

"Because God hates me."

"Why do you like him?" Blink snapped.

Spot hesitated, then shrugged. "Because," he said. "I mean, he--he cooks and he drums and I thought he was an asshole and spoiled but, you know, we met his dad and..."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Kinda reminds me of home." He snorted. "They yanked me out, but somehow I don't think anyone'll do that for Tony."

Blink sighed, and leaned against the door. "I'm sorry."

"Me too." Spot looked down at his hands, his skinny, long fingers...everything felt wrong. He felt like this was some sort of dream. Like Race wasn't real and never happened. And it didn't occur to Spot until now that he'd never felt this way about anyone ever before.

"I'm trying to do something," Spot muttered, more to himself than to Blink. "But I just don't know the fuck what."

Blink stared at him, and Spot stared at the floor, and then didn't know if he could stare any longer. Nothing seemed to be what it should be.

The yelling on the other side of the door had stopped, but the sounds that were coming now made Spot feel worse.

He didn't know someone could cry that hard.

He knew what it felt like to want to. But never to actually do it.

The door opened again, and Mush stepped out, shut it after him. Spot looked up, saw that he had four spots of blood on his face, like someone had managed to do damage with fingernails. That was the worst battle wound, but there were other bruises that they could see, and his shoulders slumped and he looked weary and defeated as he sat.

"I'm good at blocking the door," Mush said finally. "I can't handle this part."

"What part?" Blink asked, moving so he could take Mush's hand and give it a comforting squeeze.

"The part where Tony actually realizes what he did." He threw a pointed look back at the door; the sobbing hadn't stopped or even decreased in volume. "Jesus. I thought we'd gotten through this two years ago."

A coherent sentence broke through the crying, or at least, parts of one. "...can't go home again, too messed up... face my family... Maria..." and then the sobs took over again.

"God, I could kill him," Mush said softly. "Where's Itey?"

"Getting help, we hope."

"Good." Mush didn't seem to care what kind of help. "I could fucking kill him..."

The door opened again. David stepped out, shaking his head. "I can't," he said, and his voice broke on the second word. "Mush, I can't..."

Spot stood without thinking about it. "Let me."

No one blocked his way this time.

Spot didn't know he was holding his breath until he let it all go in a long sigh when he saw the pathetic, small mess sitting on the floor. Race, huddled in a small ball, was sobbing. Spot doubted that Race would ever cry had he not been under such a dangerous and heavy influence. After all, Race was a lot more like him than he would like to admit; and he never, ever cried.

"Tony," Spot croaked. "Tony, look at me."

"Fuck off," Race's words were distorted because of the crying, and his arms were covering his face. Still, what he said was clear.

Spot was quiet, as he kneeled down in front of Race, and peered down at his forehead. He took Race's arm, trying to pull it away from his face, but Race swatted at him dangerously. Spot ducked, and grabbed Race's arms, pulling them forcefully down to his sides.

It took him awhile to gain the courage to actually look at Race. When he did, he expected...he didn't know, maybe the face of some sort of distorted monster. But no. It was just Race. Just Tony Higgins. His eyes were red, his face looked more hollow and white, and there was a splotch of dry blood under his nose.

"Go ahead," Race spat. "Say it. I know you're just dying to say you were right about me."

Spot just shook his head. "Tony..." he breathed, and then pulled Race close, and hugged him.

At first, Race tensed. Then he eased into the embrace, letting out a long sigh. He wasn't crying anymore. And they just sat there, Race huddled in Spot's arms. He seemed so much smaller.

Spot pulled away slightly, staring into Race's face. His expressions.

They didn't say anything, and Spot kissed him. Small, and slight, but enough.

Race swallowed hard. He didn't know what to say; what happened almost didn't register. He just knew he needed something, he needed to feel something that wasn't a craving, that wasn't the dread of what would happen when he got home, and he didn't think he could leave the room. He couldn't face Mush and David, after all of the times they'd done this, tried to help him, saved him from being rushed to the ER the way Dutchy had been...

"Spot," he said quietly. "I can't... I can't deal with you right now." He was starting to shake again; he was under control enough that he wasn't going to leap to his feet and try and get out, get his hands on more of the stuff, but... He wanted to. He desperately wanted to.

"Don't worry," Spot said. "You don't have to. I'll just sit here with you for awhile, okay?"

Race stared down at the floor for a second. "Okay," he said quietly.

*

B: There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. The first and last time you will ever see my name on a story featuring a crying boy.

F: We had a discussing about it. It works because he's high as a kite.

B: And extremely out of his head at the time. Just so we're clear that I still stand firmly by my "no crying boys" policy. But with that aside... They kissed. Feel better?

F: I sure as hell do.

B: Me too, really.

F: Also, as a note--Angry!Mush is willing to protect you from School bullies and/or Gangsters.

B: He only charges a small fee; he's got this thing about protecting the underdog.

F: Mainly because no matter how angry he gets...he's still Mush.

B: For only a few bucks more, he'll bring along Responsible!David to do your homework.

F: Maybe even Drummer!Race will tag along to play loud music in your basement.

B: And then probably pass out, bleeding, in your bathroom. Knowing Drummer!Race.

F: That's Cokeaddict!Dutchy

B: Okay, fine. Drummer!Race will hold secret NarcAnon meetings in your basement. And Cokeaddict!Dutchy will pass out in your bathroom. So long as you're aware someone will be unconscious in there. (Was that Not-In-the-Story-Specs!Muse smirking in the background?)

F: Me and B will be eating popcorn and basking in the orgasm that is Phallic!Blink

B: -drool-

Shoutouts!

Wand

B: We're clever! Yay!

F: Laugh out loud? That happens to me dayly. Usually because I fall down stairs on a regular basis.

B: And I laugh at her. (Kidding, of course.)

F: (But really not)

B: Well, I only see you online...

F: But if you did see me...

B: Well, only if you aren't hurt. But, er, we're glad you like the story. :-D

F: And you bring joy to our lives with your supa awesome goodness of a reviewness.

Hilary & Co.

BitchSnob!Race: Fuck me, why am I always ABUSED??

Asshole!Spot: Because; abused you is remotely related to a chained to the wall you, and that works for everyone.

BithSnob!Race:....[stares]

Asshole!Spot: **smirk**

SuperGay!Mush: Hee. He's never that quiet for that long.

PhallicMike!Blink: The sexual tension in the air is putting me in the mood for some serious...

SuperGay!Mush: Yes??

PhallicMike!Blink: Some serious...

SupgerGay!Mush: YES?

PhallicMike!Blink: Zeppelin! [pulls out mike] come on guys, one go with 'Blackdog'.

SuperGay!Mush: ...I hate you.

BitchSnob!Race: Um, can we get back to me? I'm the freaking main character!

Scholarship!David: Yeah, well, then you want to say what you're supposed to?

BitchSnob!Race: But I don't do the nice, we-love-you thing! It's so... Nice. Make Itey do it.

Sweet!Itey: Why do I have to do it?

BitchSnob!Race: You'll do what I say if you want to be within a 100-metre range of my sister.

Sweet!Itey: Hilary, you wonderful woman, thank you so much for reading the fic.

FlannelShirt!Jack: Hilary, you wonder woman-

BitchSnob!Race: Jack, crawl in a corner and DIE.

FlannelShirt!Jack: ...can your sister crawl in with me?

BitchSnob!Race: AAAAAAAAAAAUGH!!!

Scholarship!David: **whacks Jack** Man, someone get out the sedatives...

BitchSnob!Race: AAAAAAAAAUGH!!

Asshole!Spot: He is so going to kick your ass and I'm so going to fucking watch.

BitchSnob!Race: AAAAAAAAUUUGGGGHH-

[Sweet!Itey 'incospiciously' pushes FlannelShirt!Jack down a flight of stairs]

Everyone: .........

Sweet!Itey: What? It seemed like the best way to deal with that.

BitchSnob!Race: But I wanted to do it!

Scholarship!David: Whine, whine, whine. Where were we?

SuperGay!Mush: Praising Hilary, I think.

Sweet!Itey: Oh, right. Hilary, we think you're great; we adore your reviews and your support and feedback.

Asshole!Spot: And we adore that Race and I snog in all of them. Or at least, I love that.

BitchSnob!Race:...*groan*

Asshole!Spot: That's right, do it again.

Scolarship!David: ANYWAY. The sexual tension is NOT going to be answered in this review because I don't want to watch.

BitchSnob!Race: I'm not doing anything!

Everyone: [snorts]

Scholarship!David: Closing thoughts in the shoutout?

BitchSnob!Race: I hate everyone. Um, except Hilary.

Asshole!Spot: ...ditto. Well, and Race. **smirk**

Flannel!Jack: **leer** So, see you Friday?

Scholarship!David: **coughSARAHcough** Please ignore Jack. He doesn't understand interpersonal relationships, and hitting on you is his way of saying we appreciate you.

SuperGay!Mush: **snogs Blink, looks up** What they all said.

PhallycMike!Blink: Ditto.

All: **cheesy grin**

Hotshot

F: Of course Race don't know their names; he's a snobby Bitch!! :)

B: That's why we love him.

F: And Spot as well. You'll note that the sexual tension is getting thicker and thicker and more delicious.

B: No shock there. And really, there's not a lot that can be said about Race's situation.

F: Also, Mr. Higgins? Yeah, dick, but not EVIL. Just a dick. A LOVING dick.

B: But really, in his heart, a dick.

F: With hot children.

B: Oh, God, yes.

F: Sophia's doing good--she got Itey on her side.

B: And Maria's too cute to abuse. Isabella's gotten out. So Race... Takes all the abuse. We'd feel bad for him, but otherwise there'd be no fic.

F: Abuse is hot.

B: I think maybe Funkie and I should seek therapy.

Stage

B: Did you get into Damn Yankees???

F: If you didn't, I'll track down the director, and we'll bring Race, and then while Race is busy seducing him with his masculine, Italian wiles, I'll wreck havoc.

B: I'll take dirty pictures to blackmail him with while Race is seducing him. I have the fun job.

F: I get to destroy things...*evil smirk of the Spot sort*

B: Oh, and we did actually know that about cocaine and nostrils. We researched for this thing.... Very gross.

F: Also, insane WiggedOut!Race? Yeah, we read up on that too.

B: I am never, ever touching cocaine... But still love WiggedOut!Race.

F: Love Race period. :-D

Lisa

B: ::glomps you:: Thank you; your review was incredibly nice and meets a lot to us.

F: You are super sweet and I want to take you home and introduce you to my parents and then we can get married have 3.5 children.

B: Where as I... Can't think of anything to top that. Damn it. But I love you that much.

F: That's a whole ton.

B: A big ton. Two tons.

F: I want some watermelon.

B: ...Uh, 'k.

Thistle

F: Indeed you have told us, but have I told you that you rock my socks?

B: Our socks are thoroughly rocked.

F: Dude, are they ever.

B: There's a kiss for you, though not a big one. Hope it tides you over for awhile...

F: We were pretty happy about it. :-D

B: I've heard of AFI but I'm not sure I've actually heard them. Any songs that've gotten radio play and I might know?

F: A note to you as well, Thistle honey chicky baby, listen to Jack Johnson. He's like some sort of acoustic GOD.

Holiday

F: *gasp* You get a free cookie, because the spaghetti dance NEEDS a free cookie.

B: I'm like Maria too. Clarinet is not nearly as much fun as drums look, but I don't think I'm coordinated enough to play them.

F: I'm holding band auditions next Thursday.

B: I am so there. Care to join me?

F: I need a drummer and a bassist.

B: Rockin'.

F: Rollin'.

B: All night long. (Or something.)

F: As long as Slash slides it's way into the mix. Preferably rolling.

B: Wait, are we still talking about your band here?

F:...I wish.

Shadowlands

B: We definitely already knew that. Hence the kiss in this chapter.

F: The kiss that was needed with every ounce of my being.

B: She's not kidding. She was going crazy.

F: I was. B was ready to get out the stun virus gun.

B: I have to keep it on standby for every chapter now.

F: I'm keeping on my toes.

B: I'm glad we've made you think Itey is cool. We *heart* Itey around here, really. And Spot back-talking Race's dad... You're right. No discussion needed.

F: Note about Itey's name Gabriel--named after my brother.

B: ...I didn't know that.

F: You totally did!

B: She lies!!

F: I don't!!

B: She does!! (Please excuse our silliness. We're both quite tired.)

Seraph2

B: In answer two your questions: that's in the next chapter, and tiramisu. Respectively.

F: Sophia made lemon meringue pie because I really want some.

B: Along with the tiramisu. Because tiramisu is my favorite.

F: Of course--and me and B have a thing about combining our favorite delicacies.

B: Like, for example, Spot and Race. Yum. Now there's a sandwich I wouldn't mind filling... um... Did I say that out loud?

F: You did and again I am reminded why I love you.

B: Good luck with the test!

F: Make sure to cheat. I mean, not cheat.

Gothee

**GrungeRock!Dutchy, BassPlayer!Itey, Drummer!Race and LeadSinger!Blink wander on stage and begin to jam. Playing Happy birthday.**

[Cheers omit and Funkie and B present the biggest, bestest SpRace cake this side of the Universe]

PhallicMike!Blink: **does suggestive things with microphone** Happy birthday to yooooooou, happy birthday to yooooooou...

All: **still jamming** Happy birthday dear Gothee, happy birthday to yoooooooooooou.

Race: **big finale drum solo**

[Spot orgasm commence riiiggghhhtttttttt now.]

B: Now that the band has finished and Spot is dragging Race off to the nearest room with a locking door, thank you for the lovely, wonderfully long review.

F: You are dearly loved and this chapter baby, is dedicated to YOU YOU YOU.

[Race (off screen): YES YES YES]

F: ...er....

B: Pay no attention to the men behind the curtain... Or rather, in the closet... Or, I guess, out of the closet in this case.

F: You made a funny!! :)

B: **bows**

F: *cheers*

Race (off-screen): *moans*

B: **grin** Enjoy the SpRace cake. Mind the oven. :D

F: You also get a Blush Martini to go along with your Slash dessert.

B: ...I guess, put together, Funkie and I are sort of a quadruped...

F:...woah....

B: Um, it's related. Just not to the last thing you said.

F: I'll take this moment to say that GA rocks and is the best GA ever.

B: I'll second that!

Cards

F: I've been huggled TWICE!!! [astonishment ensues]

B: She's hug starved, I guess. As for me, I need some home cooked bread. Hint, hint. ;)

F: Bah! Forget that! Make me soup!

B: ...but I'm hungry.

F: You're so lucky I love you. Because I tellya, I REALLY want soup.

B: **grin**

Lee

F: Latin!Spot, for some reason, makes me think of InappropriateUseOfTongue!Spot...

B: Of course he does, darling. Everything makes you think of InappropriateUseOfTongue!Spot.

F: I'm forced to remember how the creation of PhallicMike!Blink came to be. ;)

B: We're glad you like Itey; he's under-appreciated, I think. 'Cause he is a sweetie.

F: Oh he is! I am so glad everyone loves him; he deserves to be loved.

B: Glad you liked the chapter!

F: Yaaaaayyness ensues!

Kellyanne

F: Now, see, babycakes, the whole Spot sexy thing? It's a given. :)

B: Hah. And you though you felt bad for Race in the LAST chapter.

F: Spot is good with languages. It's that tongue of his. Have I mentioned that I like his tongue?

B: Sorry about the lack of kinky sex. We were quite tempted.

F: *grumbles* Stupid plot restraint...

B: Alas.

Shot Hunter

B: Your crying for Race was a bit preemptive. That's more THIS chapter, I think.

F: And the funny thing is; IT NEVER STOPS! [Thunder]

B: ...We're so mean.

F: So is Race.

B: Fair 'nuff.

F: Get working on that fic, dolly girl!

Rumor

F: AH! Yes, B and I are frequent addicts of non-sleep--mainly because of this fic. Actually, only because of this fic. We're fanfic whores.

B: I frequently have sex for fanfic, it's true. Though really more often, I give up sleep, like Funkie said. Oh well. Who needs more than three hours a night? Sleep is what class is for.

F: It's funny because I go "Plleeeassseee" and she goes "Okay!" because you can't say no to addiction! Thumbs up for fanfic heads!

B: Well, what am I supposed to do? It's like Race and his cocaine. So tempting...

F: The first step is admitting.

B: Did that long ago. My problem is I don't want to cure it.

F: It's a healthy addiction. Like falafel.

B: Mmmm, falafel.

F: I have a theory that Itey's eats that. A lot.

B: And I have a theory that Rumor rules. Especially if she makes me tirimisu, which is my favorite... ;)

F: Also, Rumor, you rock my socks. You know how few people get the sock rockage?

B: I've seen her socks. They're usually utterly unrocked.

F: Exactly.

B: ...which is why we love you. For rocking Funkie's socks.

F: And making tirimisu for B.

Shinigami Nanoda

F: I missed you!! Good freaking god, where the hell have you been???

B: Abused!Race and Smug!Spot are really the only thing that get me through my classes...

F: They get me period.

B: They could definitely have me.

F: We created them; it's their obligation. [evil smirk]

B: Mwahahahahahahahaha....

F: I LOVE YOU HUN.

B: Ditto.

This chapter was celebrated with falafel and mint drops.

And coffee, which B used to keep herself awake when Funkie made her stay up writing until 4 AM the day classes started...

(F: I'm horrible.)