Published: April 12, 2020

Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Titans. Lyrics will always be credited to the original artist.

Track 1: Titans, Let's Rock!

Springtime; new beginnings, fresh starts. The balmy breeze carried the scent of sweet blooms and cut grass. A bright, full moon dominated the night sky, a maestro leading an orchestra of stars. Far below the heavens was an outdoor stage. It was completely empty, save for a drum kit, a guitar stand and three microphones. The air was still and silent until suddenly, it was not.

Four figures walked out onto the stage and took their positions with measured confidence. The audience before them was never ending, seemingly multiplying into the distance of the horizon. A man holding an electric guitar stepped forward and grasped his microphone with a sure, steady grip.

"Are you ready?"

The answer was an explosion of deafening cheers. The man cupped his ear and pointed to the crowd.

"I can't hear you!" he shouted, his words reverberating through the speakers. "I said, are you ready?!"

The hundreds upon thousands upon millions of people opened their mouths in unison, all screaming at the top of their lungs.

"BEEP! BEEP! BEE-"

The scene ended abruptly, causing the dreamer to roll over with a groan. His hand, sluggish and limp, emerged from the thin sheets and clumsily whacked the snooze button of the alarm clock. He huddled back into the fetal position and pulled the sheets closer to himself.

"Five more minutes..." he muttered to no one in particular.

Another man burst into the room, brandishing a wooden spoon and metal pan as though he held a sword and shield. "Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!" the intruder hollered, clanging the spoon against the bottom of the pan.

"I don't eat eggs or bakey."

"Do I look like I care? Your alarm's been going off for the last half hour, it's time to face the music and GET OUT OF BED!"

"Ugh, what time is it?" A blonde head of hair with neon green tips poked out from beneath the sheets. After sitting up and rubbing his tired eyes open, the man reached over to the alarm clock and peered at the glowing numbers. He was twenty minutes late for work. "Aaaah, SHIT!" he cried, jumping out of bed. "Vic, I thought I asked you to wake me up today!"

"What exactly does it look like I'm doing, grass stain?" Victor said as he spread out his arms with a nonplussed expression on his face.

The "grass stain" otherwise known as "Gar" rushed around his room like a tornado, picking up a pair of black jeans, a white button-up shirt and two ratty, mismatched socks. He threw on the clothes and dashed past his roommate into the hallway. "I'm late, I tell you, LATE! My manager is going to kill me!"

Victor calmly followed him into the kitchen. "Don't you usually start in the afternoon?"

"Not today. I changed shifts so that I could make it in time for soundcheck tonight." Gar shoved a piece of stale bread into his mouth and reached into the fridge. He then poured himself a glass of oat milk and chugged it to wash down the last crumbs of his hurried breakfast.

"Right," replied Victor, setting down the pan and spoon onto the kitchen counter. He lowered his eyes, deep in thought.

Gar shot an incredulous look back in his friend's direction. "Don't tell me you forgot we have a gig tonight."

"Sorry, bud," Victor said, raising his eyes guiltily to meet Gar's burning gaze. "I honestly thought it was next Friday. I already made plans with my girlfriend."

"Seriously?!" exclaimed Gar, throwing his hands up in the air. "This is the first time in forever that we've booked a show, I can't believe you! Why do I feel like I'm the only one taking this seriously anymore?"

"Again, I'm sorry. I'll make sure to be there next time."

"Next time? Whaddya mean next time?!" Gar scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. "How exactly are we supposed to perform without a drummer? You know Kory can't keep time to save her life."

Victor sighed deeply in defeat. "Okay, okay, I didn't really think that through. Look, I'll call and ask if it's okay to postpone our date."

"You are totally whipped," Gar said, his annoyance melting into a smile.

"Shut up, at least I'm getting some," Victor bantered back with a grin, sensing that the previous tension was broken.

"Why don't you just bring her to the show? Most girls would kill for a rock star boyfriend."

Victor chuckled back, "I wouldn't exactly call us 'rock stars', considering the biggest venue we've ever played is the park. Besides, she's not a huge fan of loud, dark places."

Gar rolled his eyes as he moved towards the front door of their shabby 2-bedroom apartment, pulling on a pair of beat-up Converse. "Listen, I gotta go. I'm late enough as it is. But just know that if you're not at the pub by 6:00 pm, we're having tofu eggs for breakfast tomorrow."

"Not gonna happen!" exclaimed Victor. "I'd sooner eat your nasty-ass shoes than put that white stuff in my mouth."

"That's what she said," Gar retorted, shooting a wink as he crossed the threshold of their front door. Victor only groaned at the lame joke in reply. "By the way, I'm taking the car today, seeing as it's your fault I'm late this morning."

"THE HELL YOU AREN'T!" Victor cried with panic. "Don't go blaming me when you're the one who can't get your lazy ass outta bed!"

Gar grinned wickedly, pulling a set of car keys out of his back pocket and jangled them in the air. "See you at 6!"

The tardy employee scampered off, closing the door behind him with a bang. All Victor could do was gape at the front door with wide eyes. "That little punk," he thought. With a sigh, Victor pulled out his phone and navigated the screen to go to his favourite contacts. When a cheerful, female voice answered, he steeled himself to break the news. "Hey babe, about tonight..."

As far as minimum wage jobs went, Gar couldn't complain about his stint at La Maison Verte. For starters, the quaint little bistro specialized in plant-based dishes that perfectly suited his personal tastes. Secondly, it was right next to the main campus of Jump Community College. This meant that the restaurant always buzzed activity, which kept the hyper man well-entertained. To top things off, many of these students were attractive young women, who either followed a vegan diet like him or at the very least, didn't mind it. In Gar's eyes, this was a prime environment to flex his flirting muscles.

All things considered, the workday went fairly well. After apologizing profusely to his manager, Gar started his shift by setting tables, wiping down the glass display case, and wrapping sets of cutlery in napkins. He spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon manning the cash register at the front counter. Just as he returned from his lunch break, the bell above the door chimed, indicating that a new patron entered the restaurant. A pretty blonde walked in and made a beeline for the front counter.

"Afternoon, Mr. Logan."

"Ms. Simms," Gar answered primly. "Why so formal? I feel like I'm being called into the principal's office."

Sarah Simms smiled back sweetly. "My bad. Vic told me to call you that."

"Oh yeah? And what else did he say?"

"That he needs the car back. How else is he going to get his drum kit over to Wolfie's tonight?" she replied, the warm smile never leaving her face.

"Fair enough." Gar reached for the keys in his back pocket and placed them on the counter. "Want something from the dessert shelf? Our apple turnovers are killer, I'm sure I can sneak you one for free."

"That's alright, thanks," replied Sarah. "I'm on my lunch break now anyway. I was just stopping by to get the keys and deliver a top secret message from Vic."

"Top secret, huh?" Gar cocked an eyebrow and sent her a toothy grin.

"Super confidential," she said with emphasis, then leaned forward to whisper loudly in his ear. "He told me to tell you: Version 2.0. Acoustic. One night only."

The smile fell from Gar's face and turned into a frown. With a flat voice, he muttered, "That's a low blow."

"Sorry," Sarah answered apologetically. "He said that if you reacted that way, I was to remind you that you owe him for the car."

How could Gar say no to that? "Alright, he wins. You can tell him I'll meet him there. I need to pass by home first."

"Thanks, Gar. Whatever it is, I appreciate it. Vic sounded really pushy over the phone."

Gar shrugged and shook his head. "Nah, it's cool. So we'll see you later tonight?"

"Of course! It'll be fun. See you then!"

Sarah waved goodbye and walked out, the bell chiming again as the door closed shut. Gar closed his eyes and covered his face with one hand. He groaned internally, wishing that he had never insisted that Victor come to the show in the first place. Sighing to himself, he looked up at the ceiling. His eyes glazed with wetness and he had to blink rapidly to prevent tears from escaping. "One night only, my ass," thought Gar. "Easy for you to say, Vic."

Heaving another heavy sigh, Gar went back to work. His excitement to perform was replaced with dread, but he kept himself busy, doing anything and everything to get this mind off of that cursed song.

Hours later, Gar strolled down the busy streets of downtown Jump, whistling to himself. He held a soft guitar case in one hand and a hard case in the other. He did his best not to hit any of the pedestrians on the sidewalk, exclaiming "Watch out!" and "Passing through!" from time to time. After work, he had changed into ripped jeans and a graphic-tee that read "Anime in the streets, hentai in the sheets". Over his shirt, he wore his favourite white racer jacket that was lined with bold red stripes along the sides, cuff and collar.

After reaching a familiar storefront, Gar turned the corner into an alleyway and banged the side door of the establishment open with his foot. The door creaked as it swung inward and he strutted inside, careful not to hit either guitar case on the doorposts. Gar walked into a small, dimly lit room. In the center was a low coffee table covered in posters, Sharpies and water bottles. The far wall and adjacent side were lined with an L-shaped leather couch.

A tanned, slender woman sat cross-legged in front of the coffee table. Her flaming, waist-length hair was tied in a half-up, half-down style with a bright purple scrunchie. She wore a lacy lilac crop top and matching high-waisted corduroy shorts. A stack of posters was in her left hand and a silver Sharpie was in the right. She signed each with gusto, flinging the finished posters onto the coffee table with a flick of her fingers.

Behind her sat a brooding young man. He perched on the edge of the couch, hunching over as he gave the woman's shoulders a tender massage. He wore bright red jeans, a white crew shirt and a black leather jacket. His eyes were covered with a pair of classic Ray-Bans and his dark hair was slicked back in gel. Both figures looked up from their work, recognizing that another person had entered the room.

"Garfield!" cried the woman, jumping out of her seat on the floor. She rushed over to give him a bear-hug.

"Kory!" Gar replied happily, pulling away from the hug to glance in the man's direction and give him a wave. "It's been 84 years since I last saw you two."

"84 years?" Kory asked quizzically. "Weren't you at our residence for movie night last week?"

"Yeah, and Butterfingers over here spilled nachos all over our brand new carpet, remember?" Kory's partner got up from the couch and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, resting his head on her shoulder. Gar could tell that he was rolling his eyes despite the fact that they were shrouded with darkened lenses. The man's lips, however, were stretched into a genuine smile.

"Good to see you."

"Good to see you too, Dick," Gar replied, "it sure feels like 84 years since we last performed. I swear, I'm losing my callouses from lack of playing!" He stuck out his left hand in front of Dick's face and wiggled his "butterfingers" emphatically. The other man responded by letting go of Kory and reaching out to swat away Gar's intruding hand.

"As if you would never let yourself get that rusty," Dick answered gruffly.

"True, true. Vic here yet?"

"Yeah, he's setting up his kit out front right now."

"Great, I'll go join him." Gar moved past the couple, walking around the poster-covered table. "Damn, Kory! You sure have been busy."

"Oh yes! You must not forget to add your autograph, Garfield. They would be incomplete without it."

Kory's signature enthusiasm was met with a look of disbelief. Gar asked,"Do people even want those?"

"We need to get our name out there somehow," replied Dick. "And if I remember correctly, weren't you the one that blew the Battle of the Bands prize money on 10,000 of these suckers?" He reached over, crumpled a poster in his hands, and whipped the ball of paper towards Gar, hitting him smack in the face. Gar just chuckled and hoisted up his two guitars.

"I'll be back," he said in a terrible Terminator impression and walked through a curtain covering the stage entrance.

Gar's eyes adjusted from the darkness of the backroom to the brightly lit stage. One staff worker organized wires on the side while another set up microphone stands near the front. Gar saw Victor fiddle with his drum kit on a platform behind center stage. The tall, muscled man wore a simple outfit of sweats, a white tank, and a plaid shirt with the sleeves tied around his waist. A towel hung around his shoulders, completing the casual rocker look. He sat on a drum stool that was dwarfed in comparison to his towering figure. Victor stretched his arms above his head and rolled his shoulders back and forth. One arm was big and beefy, and it stretched the fabric that encased it whenever it moved. The other arm was equally large, but glinted with a silver chrome instead of deep brown.

Gar walked up to where the drummer sat and gave him a curt salute. "Mr. Stone."

The drummer looked up and replied, "So you got my message."

"It's kinda messed up, using Sarah as the bearer of bad news. You know I'm too soft to shoot the messenger."

"I wasn't aware it was such 'bad news'. It's an excellent song and it would be a waste not to perform it."

"It's not that simple. You know how much it means to me."

Victor stood up, tugged the towel off of his shoulders and set it down on his stool. He gently placed his non-prosthetic hand on Gar's shoulder. "I'm sorry, man, I didn't realize."

Gar was hurt, but he tried not to let it show as he stared straight into his best friend's eyes. "You've been apologizing to me a lot recently."

"Well, I'll keep saying sorry until you accept my apology. You know I would never try to hurt you on purpose," Victor said. "It's just... This is the first time Sarah is watching us perform since we started dating. I wanted to make it special."

Gar's hard stare softened at the explanation. "I get it, dude. I'll let it go... Eventually. As long as it's clear that you're the one that owes me." He jabbed his finger into his buddy's chest and gave him a small smile. "Anyway, it's about time we get this soundcheck going. You mind grabbing Kory and Dick?"

Victor's tensed face relaxed into a look of relief. He wrapped his arm around Gar's chest and brought him in close to give him a noogie. "Thanks, green bean. To make it up to you, I promise that I won't hide your tofu for the next two... no three weeks!" He let Gar out of the headlock. "And Sarah's gonna love it."

"The things I do for you..." Gar muttered under his breath.

As Victor walked towards the back room, there was a sharp snap, which was quickly followed by a stinging sensation on his butt. The drummer yelped and looked over his shoulder to see Gar with a giant smile, swinging his towel in one hand.

"Whipped!" Gar shouted, followed by a big belly laugh.

Wolfman's Public House was packed like a can of sardines. Colloquially known as "Wolfie's", the pub had the reputation of being one of the oldest and most popular bars in town. It drew in crowds of middle-aged office workers who had been regulars for decades, as well as young adults who had recently graduated from the community college and by default, its campus bar. The old guard appreciated the capable waitstaff while the younger generation enjoyed the reasonable prices. Everyone loved the live music.

Without fail, Wolfie's had local musicians come and perform every day of the year, including holidays. However, Friday nights were reserved for the cream of the crop, since it was the only time Happy Hour was offered to celebrate the end of the work week. Small tables were set up about 12 feet away from the stage, leaving a small rectangle of uninhibited space for people to stand or dance if they so desired. People milled about and chatted in their seats, sipping on drinks while they waited anxiously for the show to start. The pub lights dimmed as the stage lights got brighter, bringing everyone's attention to the back of the building.

A non-descript man walked out on stage and picked up the microphone from the center stand. "Good evening, folks! We have a fan-favourite band playing for us tonight. These kids are home-grown Jumpers, and simply put, they rock! So kick back, drink up, and enjoy the show!"

There was a smattering of whoops and hollers as the band entered, taking place at their various instruments. A man wearing sunglasses stood in the middle with a keyboard set up in front of him. On his right stood another man holding a forest green Stratocaster and on his left was a woman with a baby pink bass guitar. At the back was the drummer, sitting behind his kit on a raised platform.

The frontman leaned forward to speak into his microphone. "Hey everybody! Before we get into our set, I'd like to introduce the band to those of you who may not know us." Dick gestured to his left, "Over there is my girl Kory on the bass."

She blew him a kiss, which was followed by some wolf-whistles ringing out from the audience.

"On drums, Vic," continued Dick, pointing behind him.

Victor replied with a cute little drum roll that gained a couple of laughs and cheers.

"To my right, Gar on guitar."

Gar, not to be outshone by Victor, answered with his own little guitar solo. Dick rolled his eyes.

"And that dick-I mean stick-in-the-mud is Richard, on lead vocals and keys," exclaimed Gar into his own microphone, pointing back to the band leader.

Dick gave him a mildly annoyed sideways glance, but carried on, "And we are the Titans!"

The crowd cheered even louder than before.

"Tonight, we'll be playing some covers and a few originals. Sing along if you know the words," the front man said to the audience. He looked left, right and finally, back to Victor. "Titans, let's rock!"

With a quick 4-count from the drummer's sticks, the band began to play.

Here we go again / I kinda wanna be more than friends

So take it easy on me / I'm afraid you're never satisfied

Here we go again / We're sick like animals, we play pretend

You're just a cannibal / And I'm afraid I won't get out alive

No, I won't sleep tonight

As the band launched into the chorus of their first song, the room crackled with electricity. People tapped their feet on the ground and nodded their heads to the beat. Some of the younger crowd stood up to approach the stage and dance. Looking at the scene, one couldn't tell who was having more fun, the band or the audience.

Oh, oh / I want some more

Oh, oh / What are you waiting for

Take a bite of my heart tonight

Dick belted out the lyrics while simultaneously playing the keys. Kory grooved on her bass to the side and and at the back, Victor kept up the tempo on the drums, adding cymbal and hi-hat flourishes here and there. Gar played his heart out, crooning into his microphone to add harmony to Dick's melody. The guitarist felt like he was on fire. He could practically smell the audience's sweat as they danced to the music, his ears tickled from the sound of them singing along.

The band continued through their set, playing more popular covers and sprinkling some originals in between. After an hour of playing non-stop, the set came to a close. Dick made eye-contact with Gar and gave him a short nod. Gar nodded back and placed his Stratocaster on the stand next to him, picking up an acoustic guitar in its place.

"This will be our final song for the night," the leader said, addressing the crowd. They heaved a loud groan all together, clearly not wanting the performance to end. "I know, I know," continued Dick, "we had a blast with you too. Our last song is actually an original, one that we've never performed in public before. Our drummer Victor would like to dedicate this song to his lovely girlfriend, who is sitting at that table in the corner over there."

He pointed to Sarah, who blushed in surprise. Both her friends and nearby strangers started clapping and gave a big cheer. More wolf-whistles echoed from the crowd. Dick began to play a slow chord progression on the keys, accompanied by Victor's subtle drum beat in the background. Kory supported them with a steady bassline, but the real star of the song was Gar's skillful acoustic guitar. He plucked away at the strings, producing the romantic melody of a ballad. Dick leaned into his microphone and began to sing:

Golden hair and baby blues / I don't know what I would do

Without her / My girl, Sarah

Rosy cheeks and pearly smile / I would run ten thousand miles

To see her / My girl, Sarah

Sarah's jaw swung open in complete shock while her friends clutched at her arms and began to squeal. The rest of the crowd reacted similarly, sighing and "aww-ing" in their seats. People turned on their phone flashlights and began to wave them back and forth. The song closed with the final lyrics:

All my love is yours forever / All I know is that I'm better

With you / My girl, Sarah

The crowd burst into applause and started clapping even louder when Dick motioned for the woman of the hour to come up on stage. Red in the face with both embarrassment and pure emotion, Sarah clambered up the steps. Dick unhooked his mic from the stand and passed it over to Victor, who came up to the front and held his girlfriend's hand.

"I know we haven't been together that long, but everything that was said in the song is true," declared the drummer. "I really have no idea what I would do without you. You inspire me to be a better man every day, and tonight, I'd like to know if you'd be willing to be my inspiration for the rest of our lives." He paused to take out a small, velvet box from his back pocket and went down on one knee. The entire pub gasped collectively.

"Sarah Simms, will you-"

"-Yes!"

The crowd erupted, cheering louder than they ever did during the entire set. Victor slipped the ring on her finger, stood up and pulled her in for a searing kiss. As the noise dissipated, he gave the mic back to Dick and walked off to the side with Sarah.

"Thanks for the support everyone!" Dick shouted with a giant grin on his face. "We hope to perform again for you all very soon. Have a good evening and remember, we are the Titans!"

Backstage was a riot. Sarah's friends had joined the band and a bartender brought the entire gang a round on the house. After hugging everyone in the room several times each, Kory sobbed tears of joy and whizzed around, unable to stop moving with excitement. Sarah's friends fawned over the ring while Gar and Dick cornered Victor.

"You sneaky bastard!" exclaimed Gar. "Why didn't you just tell me you were going to propose tonight? I totally would have understood from the beginning!"

"Because you couldn't keep a secret even if I paid you," Victor laughed. "But you know what this means, eh Dick?"

"What?"

Gar caught on and continued Victor's train of thought, "Kory's going to be riding your ass about a wedding for the next while."

Dick groaned into his hands. "Dammit, you're right."

"You can't be engaged forever," Victor said kindly, patting Dick's back in sympathy. "Cut the girl a break, will ya?"

"I know, I know. I love her, and she loves me. I just don't see the point in all of the fanfare."

"But Kory loves fanfare and you love her," Gar replied with a knowing grin.

The long-standing couple had argued this point a million times. Dick only answered back with a sigh. Instead of continuing the conversation, he addressed the whole room. "Come on guys, let's go celebrate outside. If we're lucky, we'll be drinking for free all night!"

They ventured out into the main room of the pub, where they were met with welcoming cheers from the patrons. An hour into their festivities, Gar found himself sitting at the bar alone. He couldn't help but linger on the fact that he was a fifth-wheel. The thrill of being on stage had long since faded and he felt like he was out of place. Kory and Dick were deep in conversation, no doubt discussing their ever-postponed wedding plans. Sarah showed off the ring to strangers while Victor received several fist bumps, high-fives and pats on the back.

Gar was relatively comfortable with his singlehood. Every once in a while, he would hook up with girls he met at work for a one, sometimes two-night stand. He didn't mind being alone as long as he had his friends. But now, it looked like they were moving on too. Victor and Sarah's engagement meant a sure thing: sooner or later, Gar would need to find a new roommate.

The guitarist quickly berated himself for feeling so selfish. He should be happy, dammit! His best friend was getting married to the love of his life, the only woman who had ever fully accepted him. Gar sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day and stared into the amber reflection of his almost empty beer glass. Lost in his own thoughts, he barely noticed someone settle into the bar stool next to him.

"Can I buy you a drink?" a low, raspy voice breathed into his ear.

Gar snapped out of it, turning to look at the mysterious stranger. Deep blue, nearly indigo irises stared back at him. Her skin was pale, contrasting with the dark, chin-length hair that framed her heart-shaped face, and her full lips were settled in an expressionless pout. Attuning his senses to the woman in front of him, Gar noticed that she smelled incredible, like a mix of lavender, candle smoke and tea. His eyes were drawn to both her eyes and her mouth, looking up and down before finally settling on her lips. She looked back at him with a deadpan gaze while Gar just sat there, not knowing what to say.

Repeating herself, she asked, "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Uh-um-uh, um, uh..." Gar blabbed, temporarily lost for words.

The woman took this for a yes and motioned to the bartender to get him another beer. "Congratulations to your friends. They must be very happy."

The mention of the others effectively brought Gar out of his trance. "Yeah, Vic's my best friend. I'm happy that he's happy."

"Really?" she replied, raising an eyebrow, "You don't seem like it."

He wasn't expecting to be called out so directly, especially by a stranger. Yet for some reason, he felt compelled to be honest with her. "Of course I'm happy, but, you know... It's tough when people move on, especially when it seems like you're the only one at a standstill."

"I understand. Things change, and change can be difficult," she answered.

Gar nodded and after a brief pause, he continued, "I just... I guess I just don't want to be left behind."

They both went quiet after that. The bartender came by with Gar's refill and several moments passed. After what felt like both an eternity and only a few seconds, his drinking companion got up from her bar stool to leave. As she stood up, Gar gave her a quick glance over. The first thing he noticed was how short she was. She looked like she was 5"2, maybe 5"3 at most. She wore a black silk blouse that was tight against her chest, with just a hint of cleavage showing. It was tucked into a navy pencil skirt that ended just below her knees. She had a matching blazer draped over one arm and a small purse slung over the other. He also caught a side glance of her shapely backside.

It occurred to Gar in that moment that he had been approached by a Grade A babe, and had done absolutely nothing to try to pick her up. Feeling like an idiot, he mentally prepared himself to ask her for her number, but decided against it. He had been poor company in the short amount of time that they had spent with one another and he didn't think she would be all that interested. To his surprise, she did the unexpected and gave him a business card.

"You're really talented. I think you have what it takes to go far. Call me if you're interested."

With that, the woman disappeared into the crowd and left the pub. Gar was dumbstruck once again, blinking slowly before peering down at the card. It was entirely black, made of a heavy, expensive card stock. The surface was adorned with the silhouette of a bird with outstretched wings on either side, printed in silver foil. He flipped the business card over and read the words embedded in the same silver print:

Raven Roth

Nevermore Records, Founder and Owner

A/N: Wow, I was not expecting this chapter to be 5k words! It's been a long time since I've written creatively, let alone posted to this site. I have to say, it felt great and I really enjoyed myself! The first song is "Animals" by the Neon Trees. "Sarah" is by the Titans (aka me).

My inspiration for this story comes from the Cartoon Network show, as well as the Geoff Johns run of the comics (2003-2011). I recently re-watched the show and read the comics for the first time. My love for BBRae was reignited, and I couldn't help but write about them :-)

Till next time, Lily Timbers