A boy opened the door to the apartment, 'Scara? W-what's happened? Are you okay? Come in.' By GaGa standards he was dressed outlandishly, illegally downloaded black trousers in a thick material, once known as 'denim', a once white t-shirt that had had the GaGa logo ripped off it, and after being washed with other black items had turned a grubby, off-white, murky grey. The same illegal black boots that the girl was wearing completed his outfit. Sally ignored his invitation, and instead flung herself into his arms, taking him slightly by surprise, and buried her face into his shoulder, surrendering completely to floods of tears. Sensing not to probe further into the reasons for her distress he hugged her tightly, one hand gently stroking her hair and back. He kicked the door shut, and whispering comfortingly to the girl, he led her down the dimly lit hallway to the small, cramped kitchen at the back of the ground floor apartment.

It had been longer than he cared to remember since the kitchen had been properly cleaned. He realised it had probably only last been clean when his mother had lived there, in the short time after his father's disappearance when she still tolerated him, before she had abandoned him, running off with another man. Of the two remaining chairs in the kitchen, one had had the back broken off it, reminiscent of the time his mother had thrown it at him in a rage; the other was piled high with stacks of paper and laundry. He pushed aside still more paper that cluttered the table, clearing a space among the chipped coffee mugs that littered the table, some empty, some with dregs, some wholly untouched that had long since turned stone cold. He sat Sally on the table, gently brushing her hair out of her face, and produced a tissue from his pocket, handing it to her, 'Here. It's okay, it is clean.'

She took the tissue from him, smiling weakly, and swiped roughly at her tear stained face, then blew her nose. 'So undignified.' She said weakly. She looked down at her feet, scuffing the toes together, 'I bloody hate them.'

'Your parents?' he asked cautiously. While he wasn't scared of them, they made him nervous; he knew exactly what they thought of him. On the one occasion that they had met, they had made no attempt to hide their disgust and contempt of him, 'wastrel', 'good for nothing', 'scum'. They hadn't even been insults compared to some of the ones he had had thrown at him over the years, the harshest probably from his mother.

'Who else?' She glanced up at his concerned face, then quickly looked back down at her feet, 'They want me to stop seeing you… and to be a bloody Teen Queen' she spat. 'So… I walked out. I'm not letting them dictate how I live my life any more. They've probably sent the SP's after me by now. I-I-I just came to say goodbye. I can't stay here any more.' She fiddled with the tissue, twisting it between her fingers.

'So, y-y-you're going?' the boy stuttered, terror at the thought of being left alone once again evident in his voice. She nodded gently, 'Like I said, I can't stay here any more.' The boy reached out a hand, gently running it down the side of her face, cupping her chin, forcing her to make eye contact with him. 'Then I'm going with you. I had no life until I met you, just an existence. I love you Scaramouche. Don't leave me. I want to go wherever you go.'

She turned away, feeling her eyes well up, she blinked furiously, willing herself not to cry again. 'It's not safe out there either Scara, I want to protect you.' She turned back to him, a faint smile playing on the corners of her lips, 'I don't need you to protect me Gaz.' The utter devastation at being rejected showed plainly on his face, and he made no attempt to hide it, 'Maybe not… but I need you Scara. Please, let me go with you. I don't want to live without you. Please, don't let them spoil what we've got… what we could have. I love you. Please.' Then, seeing the smile that was now openly playing on her lips, 'You're teasing me aren't you?'

Sally was adept at sudden swings of mood, and she grinned openly at him, 'Yup. I never said you couldn't come with me, just that I don't need you to protect me. I was hoping you'd want to come with me. I love you too Gaz, and I don't wanna live without you either.' She looked around the kitchen, surveying the mess and clutter that littered every surface. 'Anything you want to take with you?'

He almost laughed at her, 'From this dump? Of course not. I'll just get my jacket, then we can hit the road.' He turned into the small room off the kitchen that served as a sitting room and bedroom, grabbed his illegally downloaded black leather jacket and returned to the kitchen. 'Let's go.' He reached out, took her hand and squeezed it. Sally squeezed his hand back and hopped off the table, pausing only to pick up her bag as they passed out of the front door.