You suddenly sit up straight in your bed as you hear the syllables come through the phone. What? Why the hell is Rose here? She doesn't live close by any means. You look at the clock hanging on the far wall of your room. Twelve in the afternoon on the dot. It would've taken her at least seven hours to get here by car, not accounting for traffic. She was either already here, or was awake at late o'clock in the middle of the fucking night to be here at this time.

"Yeah , send her up I guess." "Will do, Mister Strider. Have a nice day." You drop the phone down on your bedside table, grab your shades and slip them on your face. As you proceed to slide your fingers under the lenses to rub the gunky night shit out of your eyes, you reconsider the order of your morning ritual. You step out of your bed and reach down into a cabinet and pull out a pair of sweat pants. You're barely able to finish pulling them onto your legs when you hear the doorbell chime to the tune of the General Lee's horn. Bro's idea.

"Who the hell is at the door?", Bro shouts. "It's Lalonde. If you're not dressed and fully covered, get there in less than ten seconds," you yell back. Bro groans as he rolls off his recliner, loud enough so you can hear all the effort he puts in to be presentable for your friends. You slide the lock open and pull the door towards you.

"You headed to the ball tonight, Cinderella?" Your oldest friend looks at you and raises a single eyebrow, and pulls back one side of her mouth into a smirk. You always thought it was interesting how she could compartmentalize her facial muscles, just like you could. She's wearing a two-sizes-too-large Skrillex shirt you got her as a joke for her last birthday. "Shut up, David." She wraps her arms around you, and despite your indifference for physical contact, there's something both unsettling and comforting about her embrace.

"So what exactly are you here for? Autograph? Free shirt? Tryin' ta be a groupie? You know I don't play that Ro-" "Dave." You get the message, and you stop moving your noise hole. "How've you been, Dave?" she asks as she walks into your apartment. "Fine, I guess." "Only fine? Dave, in the last year alone you've gone from writing asinine raps and music in a bedroom the size of a large closet to.. all this." She beckons around the room. "Well, I ain't gonna lie to you, Lalonde. I'm really not emotionally that much different thatn I was before. I didn't suddenly become Mr. Big Shot Beatmaster and go all hollow and dead inside from fame. Not yet anyway." You notice a glint of sadness in her eyes. "You haven't spoken to any of us in a long time." Your shades and hair hide the scowl that forms on your face. "It wasn't on purpose if that's what you're insinuating. It's fuckin' hard to bal-" "Take it easy, Dave. I don't think you're any more of a douchebag than you were before all this. You scoff. "You still haven't told me why you're here." She heads for the living room. "Get me a Coke and I'll explain everything. Diet Coke."

You hand her an icy can of Diet Coke that she sips thoughtfully, as you pop open your own can of Coke Zero. "So," she says as she looks at you. "So? You're not here just to say hi and drink my soda. Spit it out." She sighs and straightens against the couch, and pulls out her laptop.

"I spoke to John last night." Your heart sinks. The color drains from your face and your heart begins to pound faster, for what reason you're not sure of. You try to keep your composure. "Calm down, David." God dammit.

"What.. what did you talk about?"

"The usual. Obviously some new things."

"The messages?"

"Yes."

"I was doing a show. I didn't feel it going off." You should have felt it going off, you stupid piece of shit.

"I know. I told him that but he seemed particularly intent on pursuing his sudden mad depression."

You feel the color drain from your face again. "Depression?" She glances uncomfortably across the room. "Yes. He's been a little depressed for a while. And before you ask, it's only partially you. He's having trouble at school with people that have seen fit to turn him into a punching bag, and his relationship with his father has been more tense than usual, for what reason he refuses to tell me."

Your stomach drops. I should have been there. I should have made time to talk to him.

"I told him that the issues with his dad is likely because of his mood but.." She trails off as the computer lights up. You look up at her. She lifts the laptop off of her legs and places it in your lap, a pesterlog opened up. "Read this."

[TT]: How long has it been since you tried to message him?

[EB]: almost an hour by now, i guess.

[EB]: exactly an hour.

[TT]: He's doing a show right now. It's possible he doesn't have his phone with him.

[EB]: he always has it with him, rose! he's never offline!

[TT]: He's different when he's on stage, John. Just calm down and give him time to receive the message.

[EB]: it's been a year! he's ignoring us and i'm almost positive of it. you really think he cares about us anymore? he's fucking gone.

[TT]: John.

[TT]: You know he isn't like that. He's still the same Dave we talked to before, still the same Dave we all love, but considerably more busy with a fledgling career on his hands.

[EB]: i know.

[EB]: i find that hard to believe, even so. all the movies say fame changes people, and it's obviously happening to dave! can't you with all your psychology skills see that?

[TT]: I see logic, John. And logic dictates that a person like Dave can go unfazed by things like this. He acts like a dunkass a lot, yeah, but he's still Dave.

[EB]: i'll believe that when i see it.

[TT]: You want me to prove it to you?

[EB]: how are you gonna go about that?

[TT]: Hold on.

[TT]: Talk to me at ten in the morning your time tomorrow.

[EB]: ?

[TT]: Just get some rest, John.

[TT]: Good night.

[EB]: … good night, i guess.

tentacleTherapist[TT] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 02:00 –

You look at her, then at the clock on her computer. 12:20 PM. 9:20 for John. "Oh, fuck." She lets out a barely audible giggle. "Are you insane, Rose? You came all the way to Manhattan from the middle-of-fucking-nowhere Falls to make me have a video call with J-" "Cool it, Dave. I'm not forcing you into anything. This little trip has been something I've been planning for a while as a surprise. It just so happens that the Great Egbert Breakdown of 2012 occurred at the same time. This is going to be beneficial for all of us, whether you realize it yet or not. Even Jade is in on this to an extent." "Yeah? How involved is she?" "Enough to know that I've been heading toward this for a while. She knows John's side. She doesn't mean to come off as impassive, but you know Harley." You shake your head at her inexplicable ability to read you like a book. "What now?" you ask. "Well, John will be calling within the hour. He doesn't know I'm with you, so I suppose I'll tell him everything that's happened in sequence, then you can join in if you wish and we'll go from there." You bury your head in your hands. "I hope you know where you're going with this, Lalonde."

"Do I ever not?"

"God just shut the hell up please"

She laughs again.