CHAPTER 4: A Gentleman's Return and Subsequent Decline Part 1

Coming home after any trip is always bizarre. Hairs stand at alert at the discomfort entering a room, feeling as if something has been disturbed. The feeling of being a stranger in your own home is the worst, and it can't be helped when returning after having been gone. Dust has settled on everything, but nothing seems as you left it. You enter as an alien in a strange place - not much of a foreign feeling for Arthur in this house.

Arthur sighed as he dumped his bag on his bed feeling all the disjointed feelings associated with returning home. Oddly, the feelings did not seem new, and the familiarity of them sat heavy in his stomach. He could fix it though. Slowly and surely, he was finding his place. He mentally leaned on his conversation with Bash and the importance of having values above yourself. Arthur was not a selfish person.

Despite how it started, the second half of the trip was not as bad as it could have been. After Arthur's first breakdown, it became obvious that Scott mostly read stuff that made him think Arthur felt like he didn't fit in with his family and had all kinds of issues with them. Poems and prose exploring that existed all over the notebook, but Arthur honestly felt like it was hidden behind enough fantasy and metaphor.

Apparently, he was not as great of a writer as he thought, because Scott saw right through it and decided the rest of the trip was a great time to bond with his youngest brother. The thought was in the right place, but Arthur only had enough energy to pretend to be the average man's man with Scott for so long. At least, it seemed like Scott hadn't told their dad anything about it. Maybe he thought it was better for brotherly bonding to keep it between themselves, that they would become closer that way. Arthur supposed he should count the tiny blessings. Besides, his time talking with Bash and Scott did teach him a lot and help him get his head on straight. It was what he wanted from the trip after all.

Grabbing clothes from the bag, he began to unpack. He barely dented organizing his clothes, when Mrs. Kirkland called from downstairs.

"Arthur! You have a visitor." The voice was accompanying by the banging of someone jogging up the stairs. Arthur sighed and stood in his doorway - the stomping could only be one person.

Any greeting he was going to say was cut off by a tight hug. "Arthur! You have returned!" Francis exclaimed with false dramatics. Arthur did not return the hug. Placing hands on Francis's shoulders to separate them, he rolled his eyes. "Really, Frog?"

Francis scoffed, "Who'd you get that one from anyways, Scott?"

Arthur shrugged and moved back to unpacking. "Stop acting like one, I won't call you it."

Flopping onto the bed next to Arthur's bag Francis teased, "Someone got mean on their trip." Arthur let out an amused breath through his nose prompting Francis too continue. "Too much time around Mr. Kirkland and all those stuffy business types."

"Oh, whatever," Arthur brushed off while turning to his dresser. Francis snooped in the bag and pulled out a notebook. Opening it, he began skimming through the recently written pages.

"And this is why I call you a frog. You are a slimy snoop."

Francis finished reading the page he was on before responding, not looking up from the notebook. "If you didn't want me to read it, you would ask me to stop." Arthur grumbled but didn't protest.

As Arthur finished unpacking and organizing his things, Francis continued flipping through the notebook. A comfortable silence filled the room. Arthur finished his task and sat at his desk considering grabbing a book to read.

"You are a complicated person, Arthur."

Arthur spun in his chair to face Francis who was still flipping through the notebook. "How so?"

"There's just two sides of you." Arthur raised his bushy brows in response prompting Francis to clarify, "It's not an insult. There's just always been two distinct sides of you."

Francis closed the notebook and set it aside. "Recently, it seems like there's only just one though."

"You're daft."

"I don't think I am."

"Odd that there's only one side of you then."

Francis gave his friend a sad smile. "I only ever show you one side of me."

Arthur paused. "Meaning?"

"Everyone has multiple sides. I only show you one - the true one. I show you the part of me that is actually me, not any act for others or anything like that, just me."

Arthur stared at his friend feeling an unsaid accusation. "And if I'm not only showing one side now, what am I showing you?"

"That's up to you." Arthur narrowed his eyes at the challenge - Francis had things so easy, and a thing or two to learn.

Not responding, Arthur closed the bedroom door and walked passed a surprised Francis into the closet.

"Wha-?" Before Francis could finish a question, Arthur emerged from the closet with a stack of records. He tossed them on the bed, and leaned against the wall next to his window. Peering out the window, Arthur noted that he could easily climb out and down to the ground to escape this conversation.

"Mozart?"

Arthur groaned. "No, fucking," he gestured at Francis, "open it."

A grin grew on Francis' face when he realized what it was. "Ah, and bad boy Arthur returns with a flourish."

"Stop that. You felt like I was pretending and shit, well, these are mine and obviously not a mask."

Francis shook the Mozart cover. "Hidden in a cover though."

"You can't have it all."

Francis waved his hand in a circle gesturing for Arthur to continue.

"I mean what I say. Sometimes you have to do stuff you don't want to."

"Were you told that helps build character?"

"Shut it, Frog. You might not get it, but it's called having integrity."

"I think it's called fitting into a small box others make for you."

Arthur spluttered. Francis span the Sex Pistols record around his fingers narrowing his eyes at it. "Like a shoebox."

"Oh, come one! I chose what's important to me and stick by the values associated with it."

Francis pursed his lips and looked at Arthur up and down. "So you secretly listen to this music, but hold deep hatred for the part of town it gets associated with and the people because values."

Arthur clenched his jaw, reminding himself that Francis was a temptation steering him away from his life goals. He grabbed his crossed arms tighter at the association of Francis with temptation. "I never said I held any hatred for it."

Putting the record back in its false home Francis stated, "You're ashamed of it if you have to hide it."

Snatching the record out of Francis' hands Arthur accused, "This is why I can never hang out with you long."

Francis put his hands up in a mock surrender. "Didn't mean to lecture."

"Yeah, yeah, you just want to understand. Heard it before." Arthur returned from the closet and leaned against the wall again. "Any reason you stopped by other than to harass me?"

"I don't know if you remember that bookstore we went to at the beginning of the summer, but there's an event later - "

"No."

"No?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes at his friend. "You know what that place is right?"

"You seemed to like the book you got there."

"A book is not a social," Arthur all but spat.

Francis rolled his eyes. "You're ridiculous, Arthur, you know that?"

"Yeah, well, you a f… a frog."

Francis looked towards the window nodding.

Swallowing he claimed, "My fault for forgetting we are just bizarre family acquaintances, right?"

Arthur sighed, "Francis."

Tapping a book on the desk Francis continued, "Nah, I shouldn't ask anything of you after you spent so much time with your family. That's my bad." With one last hand tap on the book, Francis turned to leave. "See you at the next family gathering when you're your other self, Arthur."

Arthur watched Francis leave not responding. After the french teen went down the stairs, Arthur dropped into his desk chair and ran his hands over his face. Since when did his relationship with Francis get so tense? Leaning back, Arthur grabbed the only book on his desk to read, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe.

The next evening, Arthur was sitting along on his bed reading Wuthering Heights, Francis's book recommendations had rubbed off on him, but he tried not to think about that. Despite his attempts, their last conversation kept playing in his head. It was easy to ignore when his family kept bugging him and wanted to talk about the trip, but now that he was alone, he kept picturing Francis's face right before he turned away.

The memory stung. Closing the book forcibly, Arthur sighed in frustration. The sting turned into a fiery anger. He didn't need to take shit from Francis. He had his own stuff to worry about. Hell, he shouldn't even associate with Francis. Then again, maybe his friend had a point about liking things and not liking where they came from. He didn't like being subtly referred to as two-faced or mask wearing or whatever the fuck, but Francis wasn't wrong.

Arthur got up from the bed and went to grab his records from his closet. He tossed them on the bed and sat down, letting his small collection surround him. Legs crossed, chin in his hands, he peered at them in thought. With one quick glance at his closed door, he reached and took one out of its false cover, and set it down. He continued to stare at them intently for a few minutes.

He rubbed his cheek. He glanced at the window. He bit his lip. He glanced at the window. He stared at the covers. He glanced.

"Okay, yeah, fuck it," he muttered to himself.

He quickly gathered all his records and went into his closet to store them. While there, he grabbed comfortable shoes and put them on. He halted his fast movements once he was standing in front of his window.

His eyes ran over the path to climb down that he mapped out when Francis was over. It didn't look too hard, but also he had never tried climbing out a second story window before - not something a gentleman, or any normal person for that matter, would do.

Arthur bounced on the balls of his feet trying to psych himself up. He could do this. With a deep breath, he unlocked the window and pulled it open. The drop seemed much higher when looking down with his head out the window. He took a step back and put both hands on his head.

Come on, Arthur. It's an easy climb and not like you'll get caught.

He stuck to that second thought. After everything that happened with Scott, he really couldn't afford getting caught doing something like this. He turned to lean against the wall feeling his innards pull back and forth in a fight about what to do.

Deep, calming breaths were the only sound in the room, filling the space with Arthur's quiet attempt at meditation. Once his heart rate was steady, Arthur opened his eyes and looked straight at the book sitting on the corner of his desk. He lifted his gaze to the closed door.

In a steady pace, he walked in that direction, and turned off the light cloaking the room in darkness - the room only partially illuminated by the light coming through the open window. No one will come in to see him missing if they think he's asleep.

Once again, he stood in front of the open window this time without fear. Taking one last look around his dark room, he hooked a leg over the window and hopped out. In theory, he could walk along the edge of the roof, grab onto a tree branch and slowly climb his way down.

In actuality, the roof felt steep under his shaky knees, a symptom of a slight fear of heights, so instead of walking to the tree, he dignitifyingly slid on his ass as close as he could get. In that moment, he realized he may have chose shoes comfortable enough for the walk but not suitable for a roof.

He feet slipped out from under him making him lose the grip he had on the roof. Gravity began to pull him off the roof feet first followed by a hearty grunt and curse. By the ever-loving grace of God, Arthur was able to catch hold of the roof before he slid too far.

Although by far the least religious member of the family, Arthur muttered a meaningly, "Thank you, Jesus."

Sometimes people say prayers of thanks a little too soon. Arthur was one of those people, because immediately after the thanks he uttered a dark curse to the creator of all with the realization that he did not have the upper body strength or grip to pull himself up anymore.

"Okay, okay, you got this," Arthur whispered as he tried to wiggle his way down farther. Maybe he could slowly lower his feet until he was grabbing the edge of the roof and just drop to the ground gracefully? Yeah, people do that all the time. Arthur could be graceful and athletic. He could do it. He mumbled the mantra of support to himself as he shifted back and forth slowly lowering himself.

Sadly, people do not drop gracefully from roofs very often. Even sadder, Arthur was not all that athletic in terms of strength. And the saddest of all, Arthur could not do it, much less gracefully.

A shout of fuck and a leafy thump broke through the night's stillness. Arthur laid on his back deep in the bushes that lined part of the back garden against the house. He took a moment to appreciate the waning moon and few stars actually visible in the sky and let embarrassment consume him. He shifted to get up but paused after a small movement. Getting out of the bush would be more uncomfortable and loud.

Arthur closed his eyes and muttered, "You got to be fucking kidding me."

At this point, there were more than enough signs telling him to turn back, but after a fall from the roof and a few scratches from branches, he was not about to get nothing out of it. Maybe it was a sign he was being an idiot, but Arthur had been told a lot of things recently and been pulled in too many directions. Maybe it was time he stuck to a conviction for once.

With a encouraging nod and deep breath, and lifted himself from the bush as quickly as possible to untangle himself from leafy limbs. With a sigh, Arthur straightened his clothes and tried to get the twigs and leaves off him and out of his hair. He surveyed the damaged state of his clothes and immediately regretted not changing into something more casual, but it was too late for that.

The bush was dented in the middle where his body had landed and broken branches. Arthur winced at the state of it and scratched at his head. Not much that could be done to fix that. If he's lucky his mom won't garden and if anyone notices they'll blame it on an animal or something. No way anyone would suspect Arthur falling from the roof anyways.

With one last shake of his dirtied shirt and a deep breath he turned and started walking to his destination. He'd show Francis who was embarrassed about that part of town. Honestly, he secretly hoped he was embarrassed or horrified, that he would feel out of place. If he didn't belong there, he could move on. But if he didn't belong there and felt out of place at home, what could he do with himself?

The walk didn't take as long as Arthur suspected. Somehow it was as if his body knew exactly where to go cutting through side streets and shortcuts to reach the few blocks with bars, clubs and music venues he was looking for. He recognized the names of a few from stories in the papers where his parents berated the type of music the bands played. Arthur stood awkwardly on the sidewalk shifting on his feet. He could tell there was some organization to the order of things, but had no idea beyond that it was all supposed to be bad for him.

People milled about on the sidewalk, hanging outside of venues and in and out of places. Smoke rose from small groups leaning against buildings and city on curbs conversing. They wore clothes unlike any Arthur owned - old, ripped and dirty. some wore mismatched and color clothing sticking out in the dark mills of people. A hodgepodge of noise carried up and down the street - some bizarre combination of different songs and people talking, laughing, and some fighting. Arthur watched one clearly drunk man with colorful hair and makeup and throne out of one building. A man with a large mohawk brushed by Arthur on the sidewalk surprising him. Suddenly, this didn't feel like the best idea in the world considering no one knew he was here.

He almost turned away, when he loud music began coming from one of the closer venues. He paused. This is what he came for. Not the bars or the supposedly undesirable people, but to prove… something. He supposed that he just wanted to see what the live version of the stuff he listened to. Walt talked up the experience of music when they used to listen to records on his floor.

Thinking about Walt after everything Scott had said made Arthur question if he was putting his trust in the wrong person. This could be one of those things that made him look at Walt the same way as before. If he could be right about something he said with such conviction, maybe Arthur would see him the same way, maybe he would feel betrayal, maybe he could forgive Walt from hiding something so important from him.

Arthur walked up to the building there the music was coming from. In the moment, he realized he may be book smart but was definitely lacking something. Damn, his parents for keeping him sheltered. How could he forget to bring a wallet? Arthur made an attempt at walking casually, though to anyone who was paying attention could see how stiff and out of place he felt. Once he reached the building, he ducked into the alley between the music venue and dingey bar next door.

Shrouded in shadow, he let out a breath. The noise from the street felt muffled and distant despite it being just as loud as before. He was never one for going out, and the vast differences in the people made it even harder. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eye to focus on the muffled sounds coming through the brick. He could hear enough to tell it was someone talking through a mic. After another noise, maybe a crowd, a guitar riff filled the alley, and a band began to play.

The music was partially muffled and cloaked by the street sounds, but it was good. Arthur tapped his foot and patted his leg along with the sounds coming through. It was nice - the cool breeze blowing through the alley carrying the smell of smoke and sweat, the sounds of people, the music escaping through the brick. Walt was many things, but he was not a complete liar.

Over time, the music got harder to hear, as the more people began to fill the sidewalks walking to other venues and bars. It must be getting late. The feeling of belonging faded with the music, but still he strained to keep listening, to imagine the distorted lyrics as the lines from his own poems. A voice startled Arthur out of his trance and made him jump.

"Hey, are you okay?" A brown haired boy asked timidly from the sidewalk.

Arthur stood. "Uh, yeah, I'm just…" He lamely pointed to the wall behind him.

The boy smiled. "Couldn't get in?"

"Something like that."

"I don't like the crowds much either."

"Sure. Well, thanks for checking in and everything." Arthur sped through his words hoping to hide his discomfort.

"Oh, I wasn't the one who wanted to. Not that I didn't! My friend saw you." He gestured to a girl with short blond hair standing not far behind him. She eyed Arthur curiously. At the mention of her, she walked forward and spoke up.

"And you definitely look out of place here," she gestured to his clothes. The brown haired boy pinched the bridge of his nose at her honesty.

Arthur looked down at this clothes. He knew he was dressed a little too nicely but didn't think the sweater would make him stand out that much. He glanced at their clothes. The brown haired boy had on a t-shirt with some logo Arthur didn't recognize and a pair of old, dark jeans that had definitely seen better days. The girl wore a skirt with fishnets and a feminine blouse - both very bright for what Arthur expected around here. Yet her dramatic makeup and windswept hair still made her fit in. Arthur looked down at himself again and realized he looked like a fucking businessman.

He made eye contact with the others sheepishly. "It's my first time out this way."

The girl's eyes lit up. She shook the boys arm. "He's new! He needs mentors!" The boy went to respond, but she ignored him to address Arthur. "We'll like totally show you around, and be your buds and stuff. This'll be fun."

The boy leaned against the wall and with a smile, mouthed sorry at Arthur.

"What?" Before Arthur could articulate a question the girl was tugging at his shirt.

She paused to look at him. "You need to lose the sweater."

"I repeat: what?"

She rolled her eyes and cocked her hip. "I'm helping you blend in more, duh. Now, lose the sweater, untuck your shirt, roll your sleeves or something and unbutton some buttons on your shirt."

"I'd do it if I were you," the boy piped in.

As he was taking off his sweater Arthur complained, "I don't even know you."

The boy leaned forward to shake Arthur's hand. "I'm Torris." Arthur noticed how relaxed the handshake was, shy. His dad would say it's the sign of a weak man - good for business though.

"And I'm Felix," the blond stated.

"Wait, Felix?" Arthur scrutinized the person in front of him, noting distinct features in their face. His eyes dragged down their form taking in the clothes and back up to the angular face where glaring eyes met his own.

"Got a problem with it?"

Torris took a step forward to grab their arm, "Felix."

Arthur sputtered, "No, sorry, I'm just… confused?"

"Confused?"

Arthur shrugged. He really didn't want to offend anyone while in a dark alley wallet or not.

"Clothes don't dictate gender, and boys can wear what they want. It's cute," Felix shook his skirt.

"Oh."

"You sure you aren't lost?"

"I… uh…" He may not have been lost, but he kind of wished he was.

Torris took that moment to speak up. "Come on, Felix, he doesn't usually hang out here." Felix seemed to consider the words while Torris questioned Arthur, "You look young. Still live at home?"

"Yeah."

Felix considered him. "And you really couldn't get in?"

Arthur looked towards the sky wishing he didn't have to admit anything. "I left my wallet at home."

"Oh my god, you snuck out!"

"Well…" Arthur scratched at his head. It sounded worse when someone said it out loud like some sort of betrayal to his family.

"You totally got to stick with us! We can be your first buddies," Felix enthused. Torris smiled at his friend's antics then turned to Arthur.

"We could probably get you into a venue without an I.D. Felix has friends, and we know which bouncers are sympathetic. We don't come for bands, but I'm guessing you wanted live music."

"Sounds good." Arthur swallowed down any reluctance at agreeing to be with them. If he wanted to get anything else out of his excursion, he would have to get passed his initial reaction to Felix. Besides, looking at the other people milling about, Felix fit in here much more than Arthur. Giving into some of his unwanted tendencies could actually do him good for once.

"Aw, I thought we were going to the bar," Felix wined. Arthur tried not to react, but a guy his own age whining like that? If not reacting to the skirt was hard, this was nearly impossible. It was as if his dad's worst nightmare and everything Scott and his mom warned him about fucked and had a child, and his name was Felix.

Torris told Felix, "He…" He paused to ask Arthur, "What is your name by the way?"

"Arthur." He considered a fake name, but it was not a night to lie it seemed. He could already feel himself falling into place with the two strange people despite his bodily aversions.

Felix made a face at the name, obviously having an opinion, but Torris went back to talking. "Arthur hasn't been here before. Let's get him in to see a band and maybe a simple bar." Torris gave Felix a look Arthur couldn't read but anything to rein in the flamboyant boy made Arthur feel better. He sometimes couldn't handle Francis, and Felix was on a whole other level.

"Ugh, fine, but only because you look like a cardboard cutout with how awkward you are," Felix pointed at Arthur. "Next time, we are having more fun my way."

"Of course," Torris agreed as if getting bossed around by a tiny blond boy in a skirt was normal for him.

Arthur followed the two into the street. They walked slowly at first allowing for some small talk. Torris and Felix were about Arthur's age with Torris being one year ahead of him and Felix. Arthur tried his hardest not to talk much about himself, but everytime he deliberately avoided questions Torris would give him a sympathetic look as if Arthur was unable to let himself indulge in a dark past or homelife.

He tried not to stare when Felix grabbed Torris's hand when crossing a street. The behavior was something expected from Felix, but Arthur hadn't gotten that vibe from Torris. But, who was he to decide? People don't expect the vibe from him. Yet, here he is.

Interrupting Felix explaining some gossip Arthur only pretended to keep up with he asked, "So where are we going anyways?"

Felix unclasped himself from Torris and spun around dramatically to stand next to Arthur and hooked their arms together. He gestured for Torris to do the same to the other side of Arthur so they could walk following-the-yellow-brick-road style.

"Great of you to ask! We have a friend that is in a band playing a couple blocks from here. It's a small venue, but not hard to get a mid-week gig this time of year, you know? His band had some guy leave. I think he went back East, right Torris?"

"Yep."

"So they'll probably do some covers tonight, and you'll recognize some stuff. Also, it won't be too crowded for Torris." Felix leaned forward to give Torris a smile across from Arthur.

"It's very chill. More of a pub with a stage in the back. Very casual, and we can probably get you in without an I.D." Torris explained.

"That sounds good," Arthur stated trying to keep his nerves in check.

This was a moment that seemed like a dream. Never in his life could Arthur have imagined himself here with a timid and tall boy on his left hooked around Arthur's arm loosely. Their elbows shifting and knocking with each step due to the loose and relaxed hold. Crazier than that was the tight and controlling hold the short, skirt-wearing boy on his right had on him. With each blink he was shocked to be between these two people, out on a Thursday night with no one knowing he was going to see some local rock band at a some pub. As much as he wished he could feel comfortable in the moment, Arthur held his body stiffly and almost had to force himself forward.

"Okay, we are getting close. You need to look sad like you're family will never love you and you need this more than anything in the world right now," Felix instructed Arthur casually.

Arthur looked at him bug-eyed. Before he could sputter a response out, Torris shook his arm and inclined his head towards a large man standing by the door. Arthur stiffened.

"Berwald!" Felix exclaimed in greeting.

Arthur could barely comprehend the mumbled, "Felix. Torris." The man eyed Arthur. Felix tried to walk straight in, but Berwald shot an arm out. "Felix, you know the drill."

"Every time? You know me." Berwald just stared stoically. Arthur thought he would make a good businessman or politician with the way he controlled the conversation, but he was a match for Felix who took a different tactic.

"How's Tino?" There was a subtle different in Berwald's features - his eyes softening. "Tino is good as always."

"That's great."

A pause.

Torris sighed. "Our friend left his wallet at home. No I.D."

Arthur tried to look small under Berwald's gaze, something not hard considering how harsh the man's eyes felt.

"You know the rules. This is a pub. There is alcohol."

"We promise he's old enough!" Felix insisted, "He had to sneak out and couldn't get his I.D. It's his first time being around everyone. He should feel welcome in the community."

Arthur, now figuring out what to look for, noticed muscles shift in Berwald's face and his stance shift. Who knew all the business training his dad tried to give him would pay off in a place like this? Berwald shook his head no slowly.

"Look at this blond mop." Felix rubbed his hands over Arthur's hair. Arthur tried to hold back from swatting it away, but couldn't hold back the dark look directed at Felix.

Torris spoke up again realizing Felix was going nowhere, "Kind of reminded us of how Tino was. Especially with the family stuff."

There was a pause that fell over the group. Apparently, that was the nerve Felix was trying to hit indirectly.

Torris swallowed nervously and continued. "He just wants to hear some music and be around people like him for once."

"Fine, but just this once and no trouble."

Felix jumped up and down clapping. "Thank you! Thank you!" As they walked in, he turned and called out, "Tell Tino we say hi." Berwald rolled his eyes and leaned back against the door.

"What was all that?" Arthur asked.

"He comes across as really intense, but he's a softy, especially about Tino," Torris explained.

"Oh my God, you'll have to meet Tino. He's the smallest guy you'll ever meet and super sweet. They are cute but look ridiculous together."

"Wait, he's…?"

Felix rolled his eyes. "Girl, where do you think you are? Do you really not hang out with anyone cool?"

Arthur suddenly felt out of place again. He looked around and felt like he was transported into the bookstore from before all those knots returning.

"Well, pish posh. You have us now. Oh my God, do you want me to find a guy for you?"

"No!" Arthur refused quickly. Torris put a hand on his shoulder, "Felix, can come off strong. You're allowed to ignore him." Felix dignifiedly responded by flicking Torris's ear.

"Sorry for coming off 'too strong.' But, honestly, I'll help you find someone next time if you want. It'll be fun. We can go dancing or something more my style."

"I don't umm… I may have… urges and stuff… but, even if I was ready for that, I am not looking." Arthur was able to stutter out honestly - the most honest he'd been even with himself recently. It was the least he could do for them being so nice and accepting and getting him out.

Felix's eyes widened. "You like somebody." Torris facepalmed. Arthur tilted his head back and closed his eyes, but his flush was obvious. He was surprised by how honest he was being all night and was realizing it was not the best thing. "Tell me about him! I love girl talk, yes."

"It's not... Maybe another time?" Arthur rubbed his forehead. He didn't even want to try to begin to explain it.

"Is he straight?" Felix conspired.

"No, no, I don't think so, it's just… other stuff." Arthur finished lamely. And he thought he was having awkward fun tonight. Now, he was replaying his argument with Francis. Other stuff was one way to put Arthur's issues.

Torris put an arm around Felix. "Let him go." More so to Felix than Arthur he added, "He snuck out tonight and kind of reminds us of Tino remember?" Felix gave Arthur a guilty look.

"Let me buy you a drink?" Felix offered lamely. Arthur internally sighed in relief, "Sure." As they moved further back, Arthur could hear the band finishing with soundcheck. Finally, he was getting to what he put up with everything for.

The group stayed back and listened to the music for a few songs. Arthur stood in a trance. At least one song he recognized as a cover from one of his records, but the rest were new. He put down his third beer of the night and leaned close to Torris.

"Which one is your friend?"

"That guy, Vlad." He pointed to one of the guitarists. "They are a bit of a hodgepodge right now. Their lyricist and bassist left back to somewhere in Eastern Europe."

Arthur tracked the movement of everyone around the stage. Some unconscious part of him spoke before his brain could even consider his words. "I write lyrics sometimes."

Torris smiled at him in surprise. "I should introduce you guys after." Arthur nodded and peeled his eyes off the stage.

He took in the crowds of people milling about, from the groups sharing drinks in the back to the small cluster in front of the band. He made eye-contact with a tall, scarf-wearing man across the room. He had a chiselled jaw and piercing eyes. What Arthur assumed was an Asian girl was talking to him, but he could be wrong. Clothing and hair meant nothing about gender he was learning fast. Arthur continued to watch the man. He smirked at Arthur, looked him up and down, and then turned back to talk to the person in front of him.

"Whose that?"

Felix scoffed. "Ivan, he's an ass. Someone should write 'Stay Away' on his forehead at this point."

"What about Ivan?" Torris butted in quickly.

"Just saw him looking over here is all," Arthur explained.

Torris shifted and glanced quickly. "He's horrible. You said he was here? Looking this way?" Arthur nodded feeling as if he was starting something. Starting something meant being on Berwald's bad side. Staying off that man's bad side was Arthur's new night goal because all his other plans were fucked the moment he let two teens drag him out of the alley.

Torris looked over at Ivan and met the man's eyes. He smirked at them before he turned to leave with his friend. To himself Torris whispered, "Fuck." After a breath he asked Felix, "Have you seen Raivis?"

Felix bit his lip shaking his head no. Torris sighed and gestured for them to follow. He led them to where Ivan was before.

"Be right back," he called as he continued into the men's restroom.

"It's a long story," Felix said as if reading Arthur's mind. They both turned to the band and listened in silence. A full song finished before Torris emerged with a short boy following behind.

"Arthur, this is Raivis. Raivis this is our new friend Arthur."

Arthur went to shake the boy's hand. The handshake was loose and sweaty, the perfect example of how not to shake a hand. Silence fell over the group. Luckily, the band was announcing the final song, and they all had a reason to face the stage.

As the song reached its peak, Arthur began to notice Raivis trembling slightly. His eyes kept being drawn to his subtle movement. He was not the only one. Felix asked him with a serious tone, "Did you let Ivan get under your skin again?"

Raivis winced, "He's intimidating and can be… convincing."

Through the exchange Torris hadn't taken his eyes off the stage. "I think I'm going to help Raivis get home. Felix, you should introduce Arthur to Vlad. He writes songs apparently."

Felix turned to Arthur with a grin, "Really?"

"Poems, but they are similar, right?"

"Oh my god, yes!" Felix hugged his friends and grabbed Arthur's hand to lead him. He just had enough time to chug the last of his glass of liquid courage and wave his two new friends goodbye.

A/N: I absolutely love writing Torris and Felix, and I didn't see that coming. Work (where I usually proofread) has been crazy busy, so I apologize for any typos. I've been focused more are writing future chapters than proofing.

Let me know what you think; your likes, dislikes, advice . The usual

Considering making a twitter for my fanfic username and posting my fics on AO3, but am still undecided.

Next update soon!