Link stood up a few minutes later and dragged himself heavily into his bedroom. He swung his door shut with a bang and tossed himself onto his unmade bed. He groaned as his raw back hit the mattress and turned onto his stomach, trying to ease the pain. Link looked at his clock that read seven o' clock. He groaned. It was still that early?
Link rolled off his bed and went to his dresser to change into something more suitable for the night. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror want what he saw, he did not like: his hair was unkempt, hanging in his face (the only time Link ever had his hair slicked back was at school and at the studio. At home, the greasy hair was ditched.), his eyes were red, matching the hue of his nose, and he looked just plain… tired. His face had an exhausted feel that no matter how he changed his expression, he couldn't make himself look any better.
Link turned back to his dresser but froze and went back to the mirror. He saw a slit in his sweater than dragged from his shoulder and (he assumed) down his back. Link sighed as he pulled the sweater over his head, his raw shoulders aching in protest. He flipped the sweater over in his hands, letting the fabric fold limply into his palms. There were at least four long gashes etching their way over the back of his jersey. Link's stomach turned to lead, thinking of what must lay under where the sweater had been.
His trembling fingers grabbed at his white undershirt and he yanked it off his head in one fluid movement. Link scooped the sweater off the ground and fumbled with it for a few moments, trying to delay what he knew he was going to see. He turned his back on the mirror and craned his neck over his shoulder to get a good look at his bare back. It wasn't pretty: each place the belt struck, a red welt appeared in its spot. Old bruises were just beginning to fade but Link knew that those red welts would soon fade purple, black, and blue, leaving a new trail of bruises down his back.
Shaking, Link perched himself on the corner of his mattress. One elbow balanced on his knee, the hand at the end of the arm holding Link's shaking head. Link's other hand still clutched at the ruined sweater, his knuckles slowly turning white with the effort of holding it so tightly. He head swung, as if it was a pendulum, back and forth in disbelief. Again, Link had worked hard to avoid punishment, and again, punishment found its way back to him.
Link opened one bleary eye and peaked at the stack of books on his desk. He had a lot of homework to catch up on and he knew that he couldn't buy himself anymore time. He was getting tired though. They had a long rehearsal after the show that day and his body was desperate to climb under his covers. It was Friday. Homework could wait.
AfterHoursAfterHoursAfterHoursAfterHoursAfterHoursAfterHoursAfterHoursAfterAfterHoursAfterHours"Link!" Corny called the moment Link walked into the studio twenty minutes early. Link smiled as he headed over to the young man. Corny wrapped an arm around Link's shoulder and Link winced in pain. If Corny noticed, he ignored it, because he kept talking. "I came in early to see if I could catch you before Hair and Make Up came in and tried to kill us."
Link laughed. Corny was the only guy he knew that would lighten his horrible mood. Corny was the only guy who had ever seen him without his hair slicked back aside from his parents. Corny was the guy who taught Link how to do the Twist. Corny was the only one to know that Link's real name was Lincoln and in turn Link was the only one to know that Corny's real name was Cornelius. Corny knew every detail about Link's life… except the biggest one. Every day, Link tried talking to Corny at least once. He needed something to brighten the day, especially knowing what he would go home to. Corny gave him the push he needed to go home.
"I was thinking," Corny began, walking towards the dressing rooms. Link obediently followed the host, smiling broadly. "Would you… like to sing the theme tonight? Just for a try?"
"Really?" Link asked, his eyes widened in awe. Corny pat Link on the back, which caused Link to once more wince. Corny eyed him but started to talk again.
"Sure! Why not?" Corny asked happily, sitting in Brad's chair that sat adjacent to Link's. Link took the seat next to Corny, still shocked at the offer. "You've got the voice and definitely have the moves. I'll just sing my introductory line before Roll Call and you can do the rest. How does that sound?"
"That sounds…" Link couldn't even describe how happy he was. "That sounds amazing! Thanks so much, Corny!"
"Hey, don't mention it!" Corny said with a smile. The smile dropped and he added in an undertone, "Seriously, don't mention it. I haven't run in by Velma yet." Link nodded numbly, astonishment deadening his movements. "So," Corny tried to start a new conversation. "How late were you here last night? I drove past to see if I had left some stuff here and I saw you leave through the back exit."
"Oh, yeah," Link said, snapping out of his surprised state. "Yeah, I was here until six last night. I was talking to Randy about the waxer. I love that thing." He was referring to Randy the janitor who pushed the waxer around the set's floors after rehearsal and/or shows were done. Corny raised his eyebrows in disbelief but again, didn't push for answers.
"Six o' clock?" He asked. "So you missed the five forty-five bus home?"
"Yeah," Link admitted, shrugging his sore shoulders. "Yeah, I got home around six thirty last night. I was out like a light after…" Corny eyed Link as his voice trailed away. "After I got there," Link invented smartly, quickly. "Yesterday was a tough rehearsal!"
"Yeah, Velma sure has begun her crackdown," Corny relaxed in his chair, propping his right ankle on his left knee, and folding his hands on right leg. "Survival of the fittest, no doubt. I think she's trying to fire as many kids as she can. A girl, really. Her daughter Amber wants a spot on the show but we can't afford to pay for a new one. But I didn't tell you that," Corny added, realizing the whole time what he was saying, but not really caring.
"Amber von Tussle?" Link asked, eyebrows raised. "She's in my history class. Quite the charmer, I have to say, making fun of every person who has the displeasure of walking under her radar."
"Like mother like daughter, I say," Corny said bitterly. Link let out a short laugh, looking at the annoyed look on his older friend's face. The look snapped away at Link's laugh and creased into a smile. "What?"
"You really don't like Ms. von Tussle, do you?" Link asked, leaning back in his chair.
"No, not at all," Corny said, his voice stony. "That woman is more racist than any woman I have ever met. And I've lived in Baltimore all my life," He reminded Link who nodded.
Link didn't falter at the word 'racist' as many others would have. Most whites in the town thought themselves better than the blacks but they said that they weren't racist, just trying to point out facts. When it came down to it all, they were racists through and through and Link knew it. Corny was the only person to ever call people on it, though.
"Negro Day?" Corny spat angrily. "Why can't we just integrate permanently? I'm sure Miss Maybelle would appreciate…" His voice trailed and his cheeks reddened. Link found himself smiling. He latched his hands behind his head as if he were lying back in the grass and looking up at stars. Corny gave him a confused look that Link responded to with a knowing one. "What now?"
"I knew it," Link said. "You like Miss Maybelle, don't you?"
"What? I- Link, I do not," Corny said, although his bright red cheeks spoke otherwise. "We're just business partners and she and her group happen to be extremely talented. They help our show a lot!"
"Mhmm," Link said perceptively. "Of course."
"Link!" Corny said. "Stop that!"
"Oh, come on and just admit it," Link pushed, rolling his eyes. "You aren't any better than the racists if you don't."
There was a hush as Corny fought a silent battle with himself: he could admit he liked Maybelle and receive endless torture from the seventeen-year-old colleague or he could say that he didn't and fall into a category with the people he hated most… and still be teased endlessly from the seventeen-year-old colleague of his.
"Yes," Corny admitted, his ears red. "I'll admit, I rather like Maybelle, but don't go running your mouth about it."
"My lips are sealed," Link promised with a perfect smile. "Wait…" Link paused dramatically. "Shall I wink?" He asked jokingly. "I'll give you the old Link Wink. Then you'll know I'm serious." Corny laughed as Link gave him a playful wink.
"How do your parents put up with you, Link?" Corny asked with a laugh. Link froze up and went stony faced. Corny, seeing Link's actions, stopped laughing and looked seriously at the teen.
"Heh," Link gave a nervous laugh. "I don't know. Why?"
"You're just odd, that's all," Corny said slowly, trying to look into Link's piercing blue-eyed gaze. "You okay?"
"Oh, yeah," Link said nervously. He stood up quickly; Corny followed suit but in a much slow manner, observing the boy as he stood. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just… I need to use the bathroom. Got to grease my hair and all. You know how bad I look without it up." Link pointed purposelessly at his head and the hair that flopped over his face. He scrambled away from Corny as quickly as he could and disappeared into the boys' bathroom.
"Weird kid," Corny muttered to himself. He straightened himself up and walked over to the bathroom door. Rapping on the door with his knuckles, he asked, "Link? You all right in there?"
"I'm fine!" Link called back. "Just working on my hair!"
"Then can I come in?" Corny asked. Corny could almost hear Link going rigid.
"Um, why?" Link asked nervously.
"Because... I need to... wash my hands," Corny invented, rollings his eyes at his own stupid lie. The door clicked open revealing a red-eyed Link in the doorway. His nose was steadily growing pinker by the second; his hair didn't even have an ounce of grease in it yet. Corny raised his eyebrows at Link. He was suddenly overcome by guilt. He was intruding on something that was not really his business. "You know what? I'll use the other bathroom. Never mind."
Link swung shut the door and Corny turned on his heel to leave. And even hours later, after rehearsals were finished and Corny was getting another round of make up plastered on his face, he couldn't help but to wonder what went on after hours.
Author's Note: It was a rather weak ending... but again, I tried. It's my first fic so I don't expect to get it perfect. Review with thoughts please?