(Author's Note: Sorry that this update took for fucking ever. Paul kind of abandoned me the past few weeks so I haven't been able to reach him. Finally the motherfucker is back though, no?)

The night was beautiful, but in a creepy yet exquisite way. The streets were lined with filth, something that was expected of most streets. Not many people walked these streets at eleven o'clock at night. Paul wondered why, yet he didn't mind the quiet. He couldn't stand the day around here, with all of the people honking their horns and cussing each other out because traffic is slow, like it always was. No, Paul hated the day. He never did care much for hectic or drama. Maybe that's why he always stayed to himself?

Walking along streets, you're bound to see people eventually. Paul did. He saw people walking along the sidewalks, not many though. It was probably about twenty to thirty. There was an old lady with a walker, toothless, and dark green glasses hanging over her bright green eyes. Her hair was dyed a honey color, yet some of her natural gray was mixed in. He also could see a dark caramel skinned woman interlocked hands with a somewhat light tan man. He looked to be Japanese. They were holding hands and looking at each other endearingly in the eyes, his onyx orbs latched onto her milky brown orbs, smiling at each other.

Cute, Paul thought to himself, smiling a little bit as he shifted his gaze away. Regardless of his pessimistic view of love, he did like to see people happy. He knew it only lasted a while.

Where in the fuck is this place? Am I lost?

Paul searched around, tired of taking a cruise among the streets. He had been to Pipe's multiple times. He didn't forget what the place looked like. Hell, it was a garage in fact. How could you miss a big garage in an area such as this? Surely it stood out.

Thinking, Paul tried to remember the address. 888 Trinity Lane? 898 Triatory Lane? Dammit, what is it?

The beauty of the night was clouded by a shower of rain that evening, with thunderous clouds being nature's background music and the lightning, which flashed with superfluous brightness, acted like lights, dangerous as they were, which lit Paul's way in a dreary, frightening passion. Annoyed, Paul randomly stomped through streets and streets throughout the area, looking for any garage's that even appeared to be familiar. Pipe's wasn't really much of a fancy guy, and it showed religiously in his clothes and living area. He called it a 'free' environment. Yeah, more like 'nasty as fuck' environment. Then again, what could Paul really say about Pipe? He was living under a bridge. His hair was matted. His beard was matted. His teeth were terrible. His skin was gross and dirty. He really had no right to judge. Of course, when does anyone really have a right to judge?

With what seemed like endless curves of road, Paul finally found a huge neon sign, lit up in bright red letters that said 'Pipe's Fixer Uppin'. This pissed Paul off and relieved him at the same time. First of all, it relieved him because he finally found the damned place in the forsaken streets. But, let's be reasonable. If you knew that you were in the right area but you couldn't find a specific place, wouldn't it piss you off that there was a giant bright sign practically 'marking the X on the treasure map' for you, so to speak?

Letting go of the annoyance, Paul went through a tiny alley that was between Pipe's Garage and Yo-Yo's, a Chinese video game establishment. He continued until he saw to doors. One door belonged to Pipe's and right across from it, a good 26 inches away, was the door to Yo-Yo's personal house. Having a key to Pipe's, Paul inserted it into the lock and twisted until he heard a satisfying click. It was still raining outside.

Paul took off his shoes and closed the door behind him, his bare feet wet on the checkered linoleum floors that covered Pipe's private home and garage. He knocked on the walls, but soon realized probably no one could hear him. He rolled his eyes as he heard the sound of female orgasm blossoming in a bedroom upstairs. Well, Pipe always did love to fuck. So did Shawn. No wonder they got along, thought Paul. Roaming around in the kitchen, Paul found a leftover pizza box at the bottom of the fridge. Opening it, the fresh scent of cheese, peppers, and tomato sauce seeped into his nose, giving him a heavenly scent. Paul's stomach went into overdrive, trying its damnest to make him want that food. Shit, he did anyway! He didn't really eat much, so a big, delicious slice of greasy pizza is so what he needed. That and a cold Pepsi. The thought of it made his mouth water.

Hey, I'm having my own mild culinary orgasm down here! He thought to himself, chuckling at the term 'culinary orgasm'.

Paul put the pizza in the microwave, set it to the necessary time frame, and sat down with a cold Pepsi, devising his plan. Once again the layout of the restaurant played in his mind. The paintings, the chairs, and the tables were all there. He also remembered the layout of the kitchen, which was flawlessly white on the walls and on the floor. Stoves aligned perfectly on the left side while a huge sink stood proudly in the middle, taking the form of an island counter top. A gigantic fridge was to the left, and the serving window was in the front, where the chef would place the order so the waiter would pick it up. Paul remembered from previous times he's been there what the place looked like.

He wondered what to steal when something caught his eye. It was a 'Gold Mine Alert', which was an ad in the paper that told people when the value of specific items went up. This month, it seems to be that lockets are the newest thing. In fact, lockets had been the biggest thing all month, which was odd, considering the fact that lockets aren't that rare. He wondered why they would be so valuable, until he read on. Apparently, jewelers discovered that lockets have rare gold stored in the chain. Gold that is worth over eight-hundred dollars.

Shit, I could buy a lot with that amount of money

Paul could imagine it now. He could probably buy a few books on motorcycles or something. Not to mention he could go to a truck gas stop and buy a shower or something, which was definitely what he needed. He was smart enough to realize that constantly fucking with Pipe over human necessities what going to get old eventually. Annoyed with the fact that he's a potential nuisance, Paul went back into fantasy mode, dreaming of the money he would make if he stole multiple lockets. He could buy so much food and water and books. Hell, if he stole enough, he could even buy a little car or something. The dream of it made him—

"Is there any fucking reason you are staring at a newspaper and grinning like a fucking idiot?" Shawn asked, leaning against the fridge.

"Jesus! Don't scare me like that you cocksucker!" Paul griped, slapping the newspaper back on the desk. He took a sip of Pepsi and huffed. He always did hate being snuck up on.

Shawn laughed and crossed his arms, "Did the city finally grow balls and put nude babes into the paper like I asked them to in that letter I sent to the newspaper company?"

"Ha-ha."

"Who said I was joking?"

"Call me a fucking idiot but the point of a newspaper is to deliver NEWS! And I honestly doubt a pair of tits is big news."

"Meh, depends on the size of the tits. You seen that chick with the huge knockers on tv? I mean they look like she's smuggling 5 basketballs in her chest. That's pretty big news."

"I have no idea why I'm even talking to you about this."

"Because you're a lonely bastard who lives under a bridge" Shawn said, doing a fake pout and cry.

"Fuck you."

Paul got up and got his pizza, going back to the table and devouring the slice slowly, savoring the flavor. Shawn sat on the chair opposite of him, and looked at Paul with a sudden seriousness in his eyes.

"You're out of money, aren't you bro?" Shawn asked, crossing his arms once again.

"Always am."

"But you won't always be."

"You don't know that."

"No…but I do know that YOU know that."

"You aren't making clear sense." Paul said, biting into the pizza, watching one of the pepperonis fall on the plate. He sipped his Pepsi.

"If you want to live under a goddamn bridge the rest of your life, that's honestly up to you."

"I'm doing the best I can."

"Bullshit. The best you can is probably going back home."

That hit a nerve. Paul's face began to twist in anger, which didn't happen too much. "Are you fucking kidding me! I did everything I fucking could to get away from there. I know this would be tough! God, I have to steal from other people just so I won't starve. It rots my conscience on the inside out."

Shawn's face didn't flinch or twitch at the rise of Paul's insane anger. He kept a normal composure. He knew Paul was putting himself through hell. He knew Paul had come from a rough background and he knew Paul had about had it with his family. Paul was almost a man now though, so why couldn't he just have stayed there a bit longer? He made it through all these years, and now he decides to take charge and leave? He's too old and too intimidating to be put in a homeless shelter. In Shawn's eyes, Paul was utterly ignorant. He couldn't survive out in the world. Neither could Shawn. Shawn had left his own family and now he was shacked up with Pipe. But, Paul was too headstrong. He wouldn't listen to Shawn for anything. So, Shawn just guessed that Paul would have to crash and burn before he learned his lesson.

Not wanting to respond to the previous statement, Shawn looked up at Paul, "Well, it's quite obvious you're planning on stealing something. Where the fuck are you going?"

"I don't feel obligated to share that information with you." Griped Paul, finishing off the pizza and Pepsi and discarding them in a small black wastebasket that hung by the cheap, white refrigerator. Shawn had pissed Paul off, and with reason too. In Paul's eyes, Shawn didn't understand a damn thing about his thought process or anything. Sure, Shawn left his fucking family, but that's because they were trying to help him get out of alcohol. Paul had no reason to be…treated like he was.

" Boys, boys, boys! Ain't no need to be fightin'" said Pipe, emerging from downstairs in onyx boxers that covered what was being pounded into his girlfriend earlier. Pipe was a simple guy. He loved to flirt, loved to fuck, and loved his girlfriend and his job. He didn't need fancy things. He loved cars and he loved family. That's why Paul always loved Pipe in the brotherly way. He was and has always been there to help out.

Sighing, Shawn nodded, too frustrated with his buddy Paul. He gave Paul a measly good-bye and went back up to his room. Paul sighed and just shook his head. Pipe ignored the bittersweet departure the two had just shared. He didn't like being too nosy.

I should change the subject, thought Pipe to himself. Rolling out a blunt and lighting it, Pipe smiled at Paul, "You lookin' kinda rough."

Paul laughed, "You aren't so hot either, ya sweaty pig."

"That's your jealousy talking. At least I get some."

Paul laughed, "I don't want any of 'some' from Marta! Are you crazy? She's my sister."

"You've still thought about it," insisted Pipe. Good point, thought Paul. It was true. Marta was a beautiful girl with a delicious ethnic background. She was Chinese, Korean, Brazilian, Irish, and Cherokee. She had beautiful tan skin that was flawless. Her dark brown hair waves down to the middle of her back. She had light freckles on her face and dark, haunting green eyes. Her hips were wide and her waist was narrow. Also, her caring and nurturing personality is what drew Paul in like a brother. She took in everyone. But, like all humans, she has her flaws. She is quite ignorant to danger and she is quite too eager to trust. It hasn't gotten her in danger, but Paul is always afraid it will one day.

Paul just rolled his eyes at his friend, "How can I not when the woman is moaning like a wildebeest?"

"Oh, damn. You heard her?"

"Her moans are what make people go deaf. Yes, of course I heard her," Paul said, a bit annoyed. He didn't like the image of his 'sister' getting pounded by his best friend into oblivion. It made his stomach gurgle. For a moment, he thought the yummy pizza was going to end up all over the floor.

"Oh…well, sorry."

"Yeah."

"Anyways, there is a reason you came here to see me. I overheard you and Shawn talk about some stealing plot."

"Yes."

Pipe nodded, leaning against the counter with a Corona in his hand. "Alright, spill."

"I've been needing money. So, I decided to do another jewelry detour. This time I'm going to Juliardette. I just saw in the paper that there is a high demand for lockets."

"Oh yeah I saw that. Pretty smart area. Women do love their lockets and such."

"Right. So, I need help."

"Let me guess," said Pipe, sipping his alcohol and looking back, "you need us to hook you up with some fancy threads and get Chewbacca off of your fucking chin. Right?"

"You got it."

"Look, I'll only do it on one condition this time."

Paul's mind got a little on the edge. Pipe never really asked for anything in return. Of course it didn't bother Paul that his friend needed some requirements to be met, it's just that it never happened before. Pipe was always the guy to help first then ask later. I guess 'always' is such a word like 'never', neither of them really exist.

"Alright, what is it?"

"I need some of the money Paul. For personal reasons." Pipe said, with an unusual serious look in his dark eyes. Paul didn't need to know why. His friend needed a favor. Paul owed him a million times. That doesn't shake the slight worry he had for Pipe's unusual seriousness, though.

Nodding, Paul confirmed, "Okay."

Then, immediately as if a switch had been flipped, Pipe had turned normal. He called for Marta.

"Well, Marta, Paul wants to look pretty. So, do your work my baby," said Pipe, pecking his Marta on the head then whispering something in a language foreign to Paul. Marta nodded and grinned at Paul, grabbing his hand and leading him up to the bathroom.

"Let's go muffin!" Marta exclaimed, pushing Paul into the bathroom. She ordered him to dress down for a shower. After a few minutes of being trapped in a small bathroom, Marta exclaimed "Paul, is there any reason you smell like a dirty, egg rotten ballsack as of this very moment?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm a homeless man who lives under a goddamn bridge. I mean, sure I could use the sewer water that flows by me."

"Then you'd smell like a shitty, dirty, egg rotten ballsack."

"Yeah, so let's leave the shit out of it."

"Scrub your fucking skin, you son of a dick." Marta said in a cheery tone, taunting Paul. Paul just laughed and shook his head, but deep inside he felt dark. He felt the guilt of what tomorrow would bring. Even if they were rich bastards, they had their belongings. Paul was going to steal from another person once again. He hated doing this. He hated that he had to steal a man's belongings just to survive. It shouldn't be like this.

I don't want to be like this…

(A/N: Okay, for those of you who are a bit impatient and are wondering when the hell Stephanie will appear. Bear with me :D She will show. She will show ^_^)