xX... don't forget to review! ..xX

"So, my dad lost his job" he says into the phone, sitting on his bed, resting his aching head on a pillow.

There is a long, pained silence.

"God." she says, her voice choked, "Life isn't fucking fair, is it?"

"No It fucking isn't." he says, forcing a laugh.

But really, he is reeling. They don't have enough money to last them a long while, there are bills to be paid, medicine to be paid for, tuition. That doesn't come free. They'll manage. Somehow. You can't loose your head.

"Well that was a cheerful way to end our little chat. I'm sorry, David. Really. That blows. I'll call you later." she says sadly.

"Yeah." David murmurs, not caring anymore. He hangs up and puts the phone down. His head...

XoXoXo

David stares at the traffic light, pleading with it to change to green. Begging with his mind. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see him. Fast approaching.

"David!" His voice rings out like a bell.

Shit. Damn.

"David! Oy! Can you hear me?"

David turns,

"Hello Dakin."

He's breathless, his pale face a flustered red. He brushes some hair out of his eyes,

"David! Are you fuckin' deaf?" he spits. Readjusting his book bag.

"Sorry, Dakin. I'm a little out of it, it's not all here today." he says, tapping his head. Wishing this pest would just go the hell away.

Green. Thank you Jesus.

He takes off, walking in the hurried, annoyed fashion that only a true New Yorker can muster. Dakin keeps up,

"Look, David," he says, struggling to keep up, "I'm real sorry your dad lost his job." He stops. David turns to face him. They're standing in front of a coffee shop. Dakin with his back against the glass window. It looks straight out of Seinfeld.

"What?"

"Don't play idiot, I know. My dad does the fin'ance." He says, his accent making finance a lot more chic. "He noticed that, this month, your dad wasn't on the pay roll."

David is seething,

"Oh did he?" he says. His voice raising.

"We just thought you might've needed some help, you know, with the money and all.."

"Well isn't that just FUCKING quaint. How nice of you to be looking after me. Why the hell do you follow me everywhere. We're different people. GO AWAY. I don't want to deal with you, or your philanthropic dad, or anything right now. Leave me alone." He quiet down, "Just go away. Please." He turns and continues to walk, cursing himself for blowing up at Dakin. He didn't deserve that. As he walks away, he's too busy being defiant to notice Dakin. Leaning up against the glass of the coffee shop. Too confused to muster any response.

XoXoXo

"So you told him off?" She inquires, sipping her tea quietly.

"Yeah. I feel like crap, I know he was only just trying to help, but really." He says, undoing his tie and leaning back in his chair.

"Yes," she says firmly, "It was rather in bad taste."

"I'll say."

The day had been hell though. It seems as though Dakin had gone back to the old 'fuck off' attitude that he had had earlier. Contrary to what he thought, though, David didn't like being left alone so much.

"Well, now you have him out of your hair. I'll get to stop hearing about it. How's your father?" She asks. Taking out some stale cookies from the cupboard and offering them to David, he refuses politely.

"He lost his job." David says glumly.

"Oh no!"

"Oh yes, Mrs. Hathaway. They let him go. Too much of a hassle."

"How on earth-" she starts. But David is sick of it.

"-We'll manage. Don't worry and, for gods sake, don't be a Dakin!"

"Yes. Yes, I mustn't." she turns back to cookies and takes a nibble, turning her nose up in disgust, she realizes that: yes, they are quite stale.

"Well, what do you say we start on the travel books? Get them alphabetizes and than I'll take you to a show?" She says hopefully.

"Sorry, Mrs. Hathaway. No show tonight. I've got to go home and cook for my da'. We had to loose some of the staff. Money problems. You got it."

"Yes. Yes of course." She says absentmindedly, staring at the portrait of Fred.

XoXoXo

"Argentine - Athens - Azerbaijan..." He murmurs to himself, alphabetizing the dated travel books. She's somewhere. Probably sleeping, taking a nap...

"London-" He stops. Something thick has fallen out of the London guide book. Unable to control himself he picks it up. It's a letter, addressed to Ms. Summer Hathaway. The envelope is thick, expensive parchment and David immediately recognizes the handwriting. His fathers.

Summer-

Is it too late? It must be. By now you are probably married, thinking little of me. Here, in far away England- but Summer. I am thinking of you. Probably every day, my thoughts turns to you. To your skin, your lips, your voice, your... I digress.

Summer, it pains me to think of you and Freddy together. It pains me to think of him and you. To think of the violation. To think of it all, I feel like curling up into a ball. But I know- you did what is best for Summer. Not for me, Zack.

If I may, I am no longer in the music business. One that proved unrewarding. I ended up becoming a pianist for the pit at a West End house, something I never wanted. One day, remember, I said. "Summer, I'm going to have the biggest god damn limo in Long Island". I remember that day well, that was the day that I left. That was the day I found out.

I know that I can never forgive myself, but I hope that you can forgive me. As it is, I am too much a coward to come back, face the country, face Long Island, face my family. Face you.

Summer. I know this may mean nothing, but I love you. I loved you from the moment you walked into our classroom in 2nd grade. With your brown paper sack and funny little hat. No one might've noticed me ever. But I did a lot of watching. And Summer...

I watched you.

I will try my best never to see you again.

-Zack

"Sometimes, it is best to leave things untouched." Her voice is cold and unkind. She moves, suddenly, quickly and fierce.

"Your father was an idiot. I was young. He was obsessed. He was sick. He was always sick, I do not care. Nor did I ever. I think that's all I need from you today David. Have a nice week, I'll see you next Tuesday." She opens the door to her apartment.

Bewildered, David leaves a stack of books that need shelving and staggers out of her apartment. He remains in this daze all the way out the building and down Park Avenue. All the way to the subway. All the way home. Well almost.

"Watch were you're going!" A voice says, in his trance, he walks into somebody. The voice is all too familiar.

"David?"

"Fancy seeing you again, Dakin."

"Yeah? Well piss off you little faggot." He sneers and pushes past him.

David feels the headache coming back on, all the pain of the day. Dakin - Nina - Summer - The end of the world.

WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU NINA?

To make things worse, when David arrives home, his father is laying on the kitchen floor. Quite still and with a thing line of blood dribbling from his arm.

xX.. WELL? ..xX