Chapter Three

"You know what?, you're lovely
You know what?, you're so lovely
And, oh, what you do to me
I'm like an ocean wave that's bumped on the shore
I feel so absolutely stumped on the floor..."

Robert's hands shuffled as he watched the crew dance, their faces covered in sweat, their bodies moulding into a repetitive clay model of what they would perform in the final of the Streets. He had to say, he loved what they were doing, and the Prank? He thought Chace's idea of fooling the 410, was just about the craziest thing he'd ever heard of. He'd never met the 410 before, as he could never seem to step outside of MSA's ground, however what he'd heard about them, he knew they were a match made to the living, and he prayed the guys would win. They deserved it more than anything.

They deserved it more than the world.

He walked alongside the guy called Monster, and began to pop beside him, enjoying the fun they were having, and he pretended he was just one of them, just as they were about to hit into their finale. Suddenly, the music stopped, and Robert looked up to see Andie, one hand combing through her hair. She looked troubled.

"I don't know. It feels like we're missing something," she said, biting the inside of her lip. Chase walked up to her, his face just as creased with concern as hers was.

"I think so too, but I cant think of anything else we could use to add to the piece. We've used everyone here, and everyone's put so much into it," Chase said, hands coming out from his folded chest.

You didn't use me, Robert thought silently, like a whisper, when he thought of that girl from yesterday. She threw herself at the floor, and told him she could see him. She told him she could see him. He wondered if she was still around the school, since it finished only a half hour ago, then thought better of it, knowing she had much better things to do than go find a boy she might have just made up in her mind.

Robert bit his lip, as the crew in front of him battered on about various things they could try, various skills they could learn and use, when he looked up, and resolutely decided. He waved his hand in the air, and the lights went dim, as if someone had thrown the switch. Immediately, curses among other colourfully posed sentences flew into the air as the crew looked to the ceiling, as if it would have an explanation for what had occured, even though their answer was just on the ground, right in front of them.

They needed another member. They needed someone else, and he knew she would be perfect for this. In fact, he knew she would love being a part of a group. From watching the way the class laughed at her arrival yesterday, it looked like she hardly had any friends, and he wanted her to make some, a group who would watch her back. He had a feeling she would like that very much.

He knew that with no power, the group wouldn't be able to do much, and reluctantly, they left, one by one, until the room was clear, and the building was silent. He waited until they left the steps leading down to the path onto the street, before he switched them back on. The second one light brightened the room, the speakers started to work again, and a new song played over them. He laughed, knowing the song very well.

"Bounce..." Timbaland's bassy voice filled the speaker and the room, as throaty breath filled the air and the bass pumped to its full volume. Robert was in the middle of the floor, and he was popping, turning, swerving, using his feet to move from side to side as his hands found his pockets. This was what he was meant to be doing, this was where he felt free.

He let the turntable squeak as the next verse came in, a repetition of before, and then he launched himself into a new freestyle, something he never done before. He could imagine it, see it all before his eyes: the crowded darkness, and the rain that would pelt the crew's shoulders, and in the middle of the dancefloor, someone would bounce, and command the crew on the floor to feel the beat, to follow his rhythm, his time. He stopped himself before he got carried away.

He almost thought that he could do that, he almost thought that he could dance with them.

Something smacked against the wall, just outside the room, and Robert shot down the volume with a click of his fingers. Was someone breaking in? The janitors were still in, he could hear the sounds of far off hoovers playing their squeaks to the shiny floors above. He waited, before he heard a male voice, followed by another, and another, their laughter filling the corridors. Another bang, and Robert walked toward the wall, before he fell through and into the corridor where the sound was coming from.

He turned around, wondering if maybe he was hearing things, when he caught sight of a few guys from the class earlier yesterday, and Camille, her body cowering in a corner, down on the floor. She had put her hands upon her head, and the three guys that towered over her were leering jokingly. Robert stopped, wondering what in heck was going on.

"-just wanted to tell you we liked your moves, and we wanted you to-"

"Yeah, come hang out with us more often. We really, really like you, you know, Camille-"

"And we wanna have fun, you know-"

Realisation dawned on him when he saw what they meant. They pushed her to the floor. They were trying to- He bit his lip, anger filling his frame, and he stepped forward, just as Camille tried to find her feet. She shouldn't have been here this late after hours. Why on earth was she here, when she should've been home?

"Please, just go away," she murmured, softly, afraid to raise her voice above monotone. He could tell by the way she angled her body, the way she wouldn't look each of those idiots directly in the eye, that she was easily made fun of, easy to pick on. Easy to bully.

Too soft-hearted, he mused, just as one of the guys put a foot down where she was above to move her hand to in order to get up. Camille jumped, and looked up to see him smiling, and evil grin marking his monstrous face. She looked ready to cry, and that was it for Robert. Before the guy even spoke, Robert flinged out his hands.

He couldn't actually touch those creeps, but he could as sure as hell scare the shit out of them. Before any of them had time to turn, all the lockers in the hall flung out from their rusty hinges, and they started to bang open and closed, rattling the echoes in the corridor they were in. Each of the guys jumped, and Camille looked up from where she sat, and saw him standing a few feet away, his body rigid straight, his bloody eyes watching those creeps as they stepped back from Camille. He looked to her, and motioned for her to move, to get behind him.

Without second thought, she got up and flung herself away from them, her hands flying out. She slid her feet behind Robert, and turned to see the backs of the three guys who were after her. They were running as fast as her heart was thumping, and she sighed when she heard the slamming of the entrance doors to the school. She came to slide down the wall and found that she was shaking from fright. Her hands gripped themselves into balls by her sides as she stared at the tiled floor in front of her.

Something wavered over her head, and she looked up to see the semi-invisible boy from earlier, his curly hair in front of his warm eyes as he tilted his head down to her. He kneeled down in front of her, one hand coming out to touch her, before it shied away, and he swallowed. Now he was so close, she could see brown eyes, as brown as hers, only darker, more like wooden chocolate. The grey pullover he wore covered his wiry frame down to his thighs, and a pair of black trousers could be seen underneath them again. He looked well-dressed, as if he was heading out somewhere fancy for the night.

He looked real to her.

"You okay, Camille?" he asked softly, his voice warm. It sent shivers down her spine.

"I'm fine, thanks," she shuddered, before she smiled. "Thank you for helping me. Really, thank you." Robert held out his hand again, and she looked at it, before she hesitatingly put out her own to take his. Of course, her hand went right through his, but for just that slight second, with him hovering over her, with his eyes on her, she felt that touch, the slip of skin on his wrist just tipping her fingers. It was like silk, barely there, but real.

"Robert," he said slowly, chuckling, his smile twinkling, as his hand came back to ruffle his hair. This couldn't honestly be happening to him. He was speaking to her, having a actual conversation with her. She was speaking to him, and she wasn't running away. Her mouth formed a tight line as she tried not to smile.

"Camille, but you know that-um," she started, before her eyebrows knotted together, trying to phrase what she was about to say. Outside, the sky was darkening, and the lights were starting to come on. He could feel the time when the school would be closed was nearing. "I-I was wondering, are- are you real, or am I just-"

She shook her head, laughing. "Y-You are real, you're here, you stopped them- you-" She fidgeted with her fingers, and Robert knelt closer to her, putting see-through hands against her small shoulders. She shivered underneath them, looking down to the ground.

Maybe, he thought sadly, Maybe it would be better not to. Maybe it would be better not to be here, not to be near her. She was probably in shock, and he had no doubt she had trouble believing what had happened. He'd be the same, if he was in her shoes. Heck, he might've run a mile, if he'd seen what she saw for the first time.

"Look, go home," he said, a gentle, yet heart-breaking smile on his face. "Go home, and forget about this. It's okay, everything's fine. Those boys wont bother you after what happened, I promise. You'll be fine, and I wont... I wont come near you anymore, okay? I promise, I'll stay away." His voice wavered in and out, and she looked up to him. He looked like someone who went and broke himself in two. He looked sad, scared, and alone.

He looked like her, when no-one was watching her.

She leaned forward, and spoke in a low voice, so quiet that he wasn't sure he'd heard it. "I promise, you aren't alone. You're just waiting for something to happen, I know it. You're just waiting for someone to take you home." It felt like the right thing to say, even though she hardly knew him. He let his hands fall away from her shoulders, as if they were touching her in the first place. He stared at her, his eyes not knowing where to look, and she looked back, defiant, ready, waiting for an answer.

Instead, he just smiled as he fell away into the darkness. In answer, in softly heard whispers that chorused through the building like breezes that were never heard, but always felt, he said, "How do you know that, when I've got nowhere to go to?"

A/N: N'awww! I just wanna give him a hug! x/X

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