Well, Hey there, guys! I decided, "HEY! I'm BORED!" so I am writing, yes, another, fanfiction of "Secret Fears." It's Anthony, um, I mean... hehe, "Lockwood's" birthday, and Lucy is pestering him to come celebrate! Hey, it's something to do. I will hopefully update this VERY soon (If I don't feel free to pester me) Love you guys, enjoy!
"Dammit, Anthony. It's your birthday in a week! At least tell me what you might want." I was received with nothing but a silent look again. "Come on, just talk to me!"
Anthony sighs, and steps towards me. "Lucy, you know I don't celebrate my birthday."
"But why?" I whine, raising my arms and tilting my head back for effect. He looks like he's just been shot, but quickly recovers.
"Because I said so, that's why," he growls, and shuts the door to the training room in my face.
Steps sound behind me and I turn to see Holly, with our workout towels in her hands. "Are you guys… alright?" She asks, concerned.
"I think so," I murmur, now unsure. "It's just… It's Antho- Lockwood's birthday next week, and he refuses to let my plan anything!" Holly furrows her brow in thought.
"I don't know, maybe he's just not used to it."
I sigh. "Maybe. Thanks for the towels, but I'm not going to exercise today, okay?"
"Oh," Holly's gaze flits to the shut door and back to me again. "Okay." I give her a quick smile, and walk down the stairs to the kitchen.
"I thought you would be training." George barely looked up at me from his newspaper.
"Nup."
"Why?" I avert my gaze and stare at the toaster.
"Cos."
"Is this because of Lockwood?"
"He locked me out of the training room again."
"It's his birthday soon, you know."
"Yeah?" I turn back to George, suddenly confused. "What does that have anything to do with it?" He pushes his glasses back up his nose, and folds his newspaper.
"Birthdays are supposed to be with family. After…" he drops his voice to a whisper. "You know who died…" He gestured with his arms to complete the sentence.
Oh. I get it now.
"So he doesn't like parties because it reminds him of…"
"Yeah."
I groan. Why did this have to be so complicated?
"Holly?" I call up the stairs, shoving my toast in my mouth and reaching for my bag.
She runs down and George smirks at us, muttering something like, "girls" and shaking his head. "What is it, Luce?" I pull her out of the kitchen and lower my voice.
"I have an idea."
