Everyone looked at Mason curiously as he shrugged his shoulders. It was his game, I guess--his question. So what was Tommy's favorite thing about music? Izzie sighed as she shook her head.

"Playing it, I assume." She answered pointedly as Heather nodded in agreement—you know that whole sisterly 'I can't think on my own' thing again, yeah it was bugging me now. Lexi surprised me once again though as she crossed her eyes at the other two girls before looking over at Tom.

"Writing it." She answered as I groaned. And here's to hoping that at least one of the girls could look deeper than the mechanics of the industry. I sighed as Mason looked over at me with a grin. Is it wrong that I wanted desperately to slap the smile off of his face? Hmmm…

"It's not about the way the art is created, but about how the art makes you feel. It's about losing yourself in the tune—about making verse and melody scream out frustration and chaos while enjoying its laughter and joy as well. A musician's favorite thing about music is its ability to tell a story—its ability to create life out of notes." I answered softly as the whole table grew quiet. Tom took in a deep breath before leaning forward. He seemed about to say something but just nodded his head instead. I tried not to feel disappointed. Mason glanced between us silently before lowering his voice almost dramatically.

"What's Tom biggest fear?" Mason asked haltingly as if afraid that the question would cause a riot. From the way everyone peered over at the gay instigator, it was definitely having the desired effect.

"Fear?" Izzie asked on a laugh. "As in phobias?" She reiterated as Mason nodded. Oh yeah. This was going to be good. Heather looked over at Tom as she elbowed her sister in the ribs.

"He fears love." Heather answered as I watched the expressions playing eerily over Tommy's face. That was a good answer—maybe even partly correct, but not the most accurate one. There was something deeper—something more obtuse--a deeper fear that caused him to be afraid of love and that was the fear I saw in him daily. Izzie grunted as her sister elbowed her again before nodding in agreement with Heather. At this point, neither of them even deserved to win. They needed to get separate brains for one. Alexia gazed over at me warily as she leaned forward to give her own answer.

"He fears commitment." She murmured as the table suddenly filled with whispered agreement—even from his own family. Did no one know him better than that? Couldn't they see what his real fear was? No one even looked at me this time. They just assumed that Alexia was right—that it was the fear of commitment that made him the man he was today. The voices around the table grew louder as I looked up into Tommy's now darkened gaze. It must feel strange baring your soul out in front of an audience. What had brought us to this point?

"He fears failure." I remarked loudly all of a sudden as a hush fell over the crowd. Tom continued to stare at me.

"He fears failure." I repeated again as my gaze lingered. "It's what makes him run from love. It's what makes him run from commitment. It's what keeps him from taking the next step in life. He fears failure. Am I right, Tommy?" I asked suddenly as he stared unblinkingly into my eyes. I could hear his family mumbling. Maybe they were seeing him for the first time—getting a glimpse at the man behind the CD cover—the man behind the Boyz Attack and Producer façade. My gaze met his daringly as he nodded before leaning forward himself—glancing at the table at large as he placed his palms on the table resolutely. He had that 'you're about to get an ear full of it' expression on his face, and I grinned. I liked his passion. It just seemed to make everyone else nervous. Tom grinned back.

"No offense, Mason, but I think I'd like to change the rules of the game. Still the same goal—still the same prize in the end. But with a twist. I'd like to get to know the girls better so that I can choose who I want to spend the evening with. It's time I start asking the questions." Tom replied with quiet ardor as I shivered. Okay, now that scared me.

"Question twelve Quincy style…" Tom began as I slunk down into my chair. Oh, this couldn't be good.