AN: Okay, so here we go with chapter seven. W00t. Okay, the links to all four pictures are at the bottom of the page. Standard disclaimer applies, I don't own Coca-Cola either. I wish I did.

This chapter was a fucking bitch to write. Haha, there are two lines straight from the proverbial horse's mouth in there! See if you can find them!

Please enjoy.



Deep in Denial: Warren



By the end of the Christmas break and after countless revisions, Yuri and I had cleaned up the whole song (meaning tried it out on a synthesizer with vocals to see if it actually worked). There was, of course, much hair-pulling and migraine-inducing unfortunate ness. But we dealt. Rehearsals were due to start again in Zach's basement the first Thursday after school recommenced. Oh joy. So there I was, driving over after the afternoon shift at the Lantern, hoping I didn't crap out because I may be able to sing, but Yuri was the nit-picky music aficionado. I cringed to think about what might happen if she was PMSing.

We set up the equipment: Maj's drum set, Ethan's keyboard, Yuri's electric guitar and amp. After a quick review for Will and Layla about how to use their instruments (I wondered briefly where Yuri got the shakers), we got down to business…and proceeded to suck.

"Guys…Guys!" Yuri waved her hands to get our attention. "Guys, you have to listen to each other. Just because you're playing the right stuff doesn't mean you're doing it right." She walked over to Maj. "Look…you have to listen to the timekeeper. Maj is keeping time here. Eighth notes on the snare and quarters on the base." Waving to Maj, she prompted her to start.

A steady rhythm filled the basement. Cue the wondrous applause at the sheer genius.

"Okay? See?" Yuri was going into teacher mode. As in 'starched collar, hair in a bun, pant-suit, bifocals, full-on lecture professor' mode. But with the freaky gold cat eyes which made it both worse and not so bad. "Now," she continued, it was like some twisted self-help video, "the introduction, up to where Warren starts singing, is just that: an introduction. Basically some chords and arpeggiating eighth notes that set up the structure of the song and help the audience get a feel for it. And then Ethan and I drop out so it's just percussion for the first couple lines before sneaking back in to really fill up the sound by the time we hit the first chorus, as well as backing up the vocals." She picked up her guitar, "Okay? So let's try it."

Maj counted off and everyone but me started playing. A little shaky, but at least they were kinda-sorta-almost together. For the most part. Caught up in this thought, I totally missed my entrance. Shit.

"Warren!" Yuri pouted at me. Fortunately I am immune to pouts. Will, Zach, and Ethan are not. They will succumb to the pout of any of our three female friends, as well as any other female who works hard enough at having a decent pout. I, however, after years of practice with pretty girls trying to skip out on the bill at the Lantern, can stare a pout down like nobody's business.

"What?"

"You have to come in on your entrance," she pointed out. Of course, how stupid of me.

"Sorry."

"Okay, let's try it again. Maj?" Yuri looked over her shoulder towards the set. Maj began counting off the intro again and, that second time, I hit my entrance. Unfortunately, the chorus sort of fizzled and died. I swear it wasn't my fault. Yuri hit a wrong note so Ethan got thrown off and then Maj missed a beat which threw Will and Layla for a loop. It really had nothing to do with me.

Yuri was looking very amusing, frustrated as she was. I stifled a chuckle that would have earned me a slap.

"Okay, here's a good place to start talking about musicality," she began. "So we're gonna start low," she bent down, crouching on the ground. "And then we're going to build it up for the chorus," she stood slowly. "Then come back down again…before building towards the second chorus." Yuri raised her arms. "And for the bridge, we'll sort of have this constant, circular motion," she began to wave her arms around, "before coming back to the chorus and filling up the sound while trickling out at the end, leaving just the vocals, base, and the hi-hat." She smiled, "Any questions?"

I'm sure there were loads, but Yuri is also sort of irritating in teacher-mode so no one spoke.

"Good." She turned to Maj and we started up again.


This routine continued; every Tuesday and Thursday, without fail, we'd convene in Zach's basement and try to get things done. Of course, the first half hour would be setting up and general hanging around until someone decided we should get started and the last half hour was cleaning up and goofing off until someone decided it was probably time to go home. Or someone's parents called to say they were late for dinner. Whichever came first.

"Yuri, give it a rest; we're all tired and your scolding isn't doing anything," I mumbled when we stopped for the bazillionth time. She was harping on about pitch or intonation. Whatever, some shit like that. It wasn't like we were entering a world-competition; it was just the school talent show. Geez. She was making it out to be the pinnacle moment in history.

"Warren, I am a perfectionist. This is what I do. I'm sorry, deal with it." She stood, hands on her hips, facing me. Scowling, she turned to the rest of the guys, "Can we start it again from the top?"

We started again from the top. Actually, we were sounding pretty okay, but miss perfectionist wanted us to be, well, perfect. She wanted us to be hard-working, dedicated, eat-sleep-breathe the music aficionados. That was not something I wanted. Actually, that was not something I believed I was capable of. And, of course, every time we took a break and she checked her missed calls, there was something from a guy who's name rhymed with 'prick.' Excuse me for not approving. Especially when she actually took the time to return half of them. Not that I care, or anything; it's just, she can do better and I hate to see anyone settle for less than what they're capable of.

My chain of thought was broken as I realized my entrance cue was coming up. Taking a deep breath ('Utilize your diaphragm, Warren!'), I began the opening lines. "I've always known you, looked right through you…"



Yuri was off, once again talking on her cell to the idiot boyfriend, when we took one of our breaks.

Swiping a Coke from the cooler , I looked over at Will. He looked back at me with an expression that probably mirrored my own. Except his said 'How the fuck did we get into this? Oh yeah, Layla. Remind me never to say yes without thinking things through again.' Mine was probably more along the lines of 'What a fucking bastard, sympathy ploy and all; I can't believe Yuri is falling for it.' And then something along the lines of 'Girls are dumb. Girls are dumb. Girls are dumb.' I collapsed into the only squishy armchair in that whole godforsaken basement and proceeded to revel in its luxury for one moment of ultimate peace. My moment of paradise was shattered when I felt someone sitting on the arm of my chair. Opening my eyes, I saw Yuri perched on said arm, a Coke in her hand as well.

"There's only one chair in here, Warren. You gotta share," she shrugged, sipping her drink.

I groaned. "Yuri, for once, sit somewhere else. Go sit on Will," I prompted, gesturing in his general direction: sprawled on the floor.

Yuri was eyeing me funny. Understandable, I guess. When I'm frustrated, I tend to say somewhat random things. "Why would I sit on Will?" she asked, giving me a quizzical look.

"I don't know," I whined; I'm allowed to be not-so-badass once in a while and she was on my chair. My Chair. "Go talk to your boyfriend some more." I muttered, slouching even deeper into the squishy safety of the armchair.

"Nicholas is not my boyfriend," she stated firmly. "Not anymore," she reaffirmed. As Maj might say, 'Tch-yeah.'

"Right," I sighed, looking at my watch. "I'd say it was time we packed up for the night anyway, wouldn't you?"

She glanced away from me, to Zach's wall clock. Five forty-five, P.M. "I guess." Standing, she vacated my chair (Yes!) and began putting her guitar away. The others soon followed suit. Me? I didn't have anything to put away, so I just sat there in the squishy goodness of the best armchair in the world. Completely (except for the tiny part that wanted to pummel a certain high school senior into the ground so hard he'd never again see the light of day) content. Someone sat on my chair again.

Groaning louder, I opened my eyes. "Will…" I glared at him. "What do you want?"

He gave me a look that clearly said he wasn't stupid. "What's wrong with you and Yuri?" he asked, somehow managing to sit Indian-style on the arm of an armchair. Oh yeah, he flies, never mind.

"Nothing." There really wasn't anything else to say. I mean, if Yuri was considering taking back an egomaniacal bastard that didn't really give a rip about her when he was drunk and all his inhibitions were down, ultimately showing his true colors, that was her problem. And I was entitled to thinking that it was a stupid idea and she should have better common sense. And that Girls Are Dumb.

He gave me a knowing look. Damn boy is psychic. Is there a super power this kid does not have? At least a little bit of? He flies, has super strength, I'm convinced he has pre-cog, now the psychic powers? Plus, he always wins at poker. I don't know how! He doesn't even have a good poker face! I grumbled something incoherent, even to myself.

Will looked over at the others, still helping Maj put away her percussion equipment. "There's something going on."

"Isn't it Layla's job to be the unofficial counselor for us all?" I asked, attempting some dry humor.

"She's busy," he reasoned. "So what's up?"

I muttered incoherently again. "I'll give you a ride home," I replied.

"But I can just-" Will began.

"I'll give you a ride home," I repeated, a little more force this time. He got the message. And I ruled out psychic as one of his other, lesser powers.


In the car, driving toward Will's neighborhood, I vented as one can only vent to one's best friend. "Yuri's being really…annoying," I started. "All her dictatorship crap with rehearsals."

Will listened, punctuating with a, "Mm-hmm."

"And then, on break, she's always on the goddamn phone with her goddamn ex-boyfriend," I continued, speeding a little more than necessary to make it through a yellow light. I noticed Will grip the armrest a little more. So I get road rage, so sue.

"Mm-hmm."

"And you just know he's a fucking jerk-off. Actually admitting to 'hitting on skanks'? He doesn't even have the class to call them women?" I slammed on the brakes, just narrowly avoiding running a red. "Sorry," I muttered out of courtesy.

"No problem," Will squeaked back.

"She can do better," I grumbled. "Girls are dumb."

Will was giving me a look that said I was the dumb one. Not so. She was the idiot getting back together with her stupid ex-boyfriend who treated her like shit. And anyway, I didn't care. Because, as previously mentioned, girls were dumb.

Pulling into his driveway, I glanced sideways at him. "What?"

He smiled wryly at me. Not a look you often see on Will Stronghold's face. Unless he's beating you at poker for the millionth time. Anyway. "Well, don't barbeque me for saying this," he began, "but, to quote you, 'Was falling for her before or after the Nicholas Incident?'"

I blanched. "There was no falling involved. I just think the guy's an asshole." End of story.

"Oh, come on," Will grinned, "it's so obvious now. Why you're mad at her for no reason, why you hate Nicholas more than the rest of us." He started laughing. "You've got it bad."

"Stronghold," I threatened.

"Admit it," he prompted, "you like her."

"I don't-"

"Hey, I have an idea," Will mused, hands folded behind his head, apparently reveling in the fact that he could teach me a few things about the world. Not. "Why don't you serenade her. It'll be real cute." He chuckled. "My cheri amour, pretty little one that I adore," he crooned, grinning.

"Shut it, Stronghold," was my reply.

"Please, accept the inevitable for once. You like her. As in you want her to be all 'Oh, Warren'," his voice took on a distinct falsetto tone, "'you're so handsome with your big, strong muscles, and-' Ow!"

I punched him. There was no alternative. "Fine! I like her. Now will you please get out of the goddamn car?"

He grinned again, grabbing his bag and opening the passenger side door. "Thanks for the ride."

As I pulled out of the driveway, I could distinctly hear him whistling 'My Cheri Amour'.

Idiot.


Upon arriving home, I kicked off my shoes and called hello to my mom. She answered back from her home office and I trudged up to my room. Homework awaited. Somewhere in the middle of my essay interpreting a novel of my choice (in this case, Mary Shelley's Frankenstein), and incorporating the trials and suffering of the main character into a mirror for everyday superhero life, I had an epiphany.

I really was crushing on Yuri.

Fucking hell.

Running off a train of expletives in my mind, I took a deep, calming breath. And let out that same string of curses for anyone within ten feet to hear. Thankfully, my mother was not one of those chosen few. But the birds nestled outside my window sure took off in a hurry.

Weighing my options, I realized I was in some deep shit. I could just leave it alone and hope it went away. But, of course, 'to let true love remain unspoken is the quickest route to a heavy heart'. Fucking fortune cookies. Or I could wait for her to realize that her idiot boyfriend was an idiot, in which case she'd need condoling. And who better to condole than yours truly? But that was the coward's way out. And who said Yuri'd wise up anyway? Girls were dumb, remember? I sighed heavily. It was not a good day.

Looking up at the corkboard above my desk, I focused on a small piece of paper. Every once in a while, I'd keep interesting or insightful fortunes from the cookies at the Lantern. Amid the stupid ones (You Love Chinese Food.) and the just plain weird ones (A nice cake is waiting for you.) were a few jewels of thought and inspiration. Focusing on one in particular, I closed my eyes.

"Let your heart guide you. It whispers, so listen closely." Littlefoot's mother, "The Land Before Time." I'm a closet geek, so sue me.

Taking another deep breath, I looked over at my computer monitor. That paper wasn't going to write itself, but…

Mentally kicking myself, I surfed over to and typed in the search 'love ballads.' As I browsed through the myriad of mushy lovey-dovey crap that loaded the web, searching for just one that wasn't so…pathetic, I thought of the downstairs closet. …and my dad's old guitar.



Now to thank-yous:

Lady11Occult: Thank you. Yes, I did do the rhyming on my own. It was a pain in the ass, but I'm very proud of the end product which you'll all see in chapter…nine.

LadyKida: Well, here are the links for pictures! I hope they do not disappoint. And thanks for warm fuzzies!

Catie: Plot is so crucial. I'm glad you think so too. This chapter was difficult to write because of the characterization and major plot points, but I really wanted to get them all in there.

Off Dreaming: No, I don't think Chris'll draw on his ceiling. He thinks this whole shpiel is hilarious, though. Yes, Yuri is being sort of silly, but girls are sort of silly sometimes, too. I should know.

Also, as I mentioned before, there are two lines in Warren's thoughts up there that came straight from Chris. Can you find them?
Just a side note before you see the pictures:As we can't actually post links, this is the prefix for all, minus the spaces (I'm sorry, I know they're a pain in the ass), then just stick the gibberish behind it in your little web address bar.

img . photobucket . com / albums / v514 / nanashitenshi /

chapteroneillustrationsmall . jpg

Or: In the hall, by the lockers...
As my friend, Richard, put it: i'm really sorry, but the first drawing looks so damn perverted. "hey, can i reach down there?" says the guy. "whoa whoa take it easy big boy!" says the girl. bahahahaha i was laughing so hard.My friend Richard is perverted. Ignore him.

chapterthreeillustrationsmall . jpg

Or: The Love Sonnet
Who can figure out what the ambigram in the lower, left corner says? It also has the poem in the background.

chapterfourillustrationsmall . jpg

Or: Karaoke!
Okay, this one kind of sucked. The proportions were all crap. But anyway.

And the one you've all been waiting for:

Chris:

DSCN0280 . jpg
So this is Chris' regular face. Part 'I'm tired' and part 'Don't fuck with me, kid.'

chris . jpg
This is Chris' half eyebrow-raised, I'm so sexy because all the girls like me, w00t face. Just for contrast.So yay, please leave a review so Chris knows what you think of him (and so I know what you thought of the chapter).

Love, SeraphStar.