Whee! I think this is my favorite chapter so far. At least, it was really fun to write. :D

Thank you so much for all of the reviews! They're so sweet. _

Oh, and this time I can add to the "I don't own" ramble. I don't own "Perks" OR "Rocky Horror" or its songs. Good to mix it up sometimes.

5. Rocky Horror

At school the following Monday, Charlie and I had our "Big Talk". On bated breath, I told him the whole sordid affair between Brad and me. If I was going to call him my best friend, he needed to know. I felt like I could trust him.

I explained how we had met at a party, and shared stolen kisses at every party following. I told him about Brad's dad, and how Brad started getting drunk and high everyday just to get by. I explained how Brad was in denial about his sexuality, but it had gotten better since he'd gotten help with the drug and alcohol problem and we started "dating" secretly. But that he was still in denial.

Charlie listened intently to the whole two years' worth of history, and never interrupted me. When I was finally finished, we just sat there for a moment, before Charlie spoke. I realized that, as much as I trusted him, I was still anxious to hear his reply. Would he still want to be as close to me now that he knew the truth about me? I tried to bat that doubt away, but it persisted.

"Isn't it hard…loving someone who needs to pretend they don't love you? Aren't you sad that you have to keep it a secret?" he asked, with this look on his face that said he was worried for me. Not scared, not disgusted; just worried for a friend in a rough relationship. My doubt faded and I smiled at him.

"It's hard, but I can't really help it. I love him, and I can't leave him. I keep hoping that one day…well, one day we'll just move far away from his Dad and supposed friends, and we'll be happy together. And anyways, I'm not sad anymore. At least he doesn't have to get drunk or stoned to make love". God, I was starting to sound sappy and pitiful, to boot. I didn't really talk that seriously to people very often, and it felt strange and awkward. I kept waiting for the laughter, but I knew Charlie would never do that. He returned to being quiet, a conflicted expression on his face.

"You're always smiling, and making people laugh. I don't know how you always keep that up when you're going through something like this. Sometimes I think that you aren't really laughing when you're making jokes. I think I can understand why now," he observed. I stopped breathing at some point during this revelation in to my character, and had to tell myself to take a breath. I let out a feeble laugh, unable to reply. Just how much had he been watching me? That familiar feeling of him knowing me better than myself returned, and I felt a small knot grow in my stomach. Charlie noticed my strained expression, and reached out for my hands. I felt a slight self-consciousness in the back of my mind over how clammy my hands had become during our conversation. He took them into his, clammy or otherwise, and smiled. I forgot to breathe again.

"I think I can understand how you feel. You can't help who you love, can you," He commented sagely. I agreed, wondering if it was Sam who he was talking about. I pulled my hands out of his with an unintentional jerk to my movements and fumbled for a cigarette out of the pack in my pocket. I lit it up, staring off into the distance. I hadn't talked about this with anyone other than Sam, and I wasn't sure if I felt liberated or uncomfortable. Charlie seemed to sense my mood, so he stood up and made to leave.

"Charlie?"

He turned to look back at me.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for understanding. You don't know what it means to me".

"No. I think I do."

And with that enigmatic reply, he returned to the school building.

It was the night of Rocky Horror, and I was in the dressing room preparing. I was particularly excited about this show, because both Brad and Charlie would be in attendance. Brad had decided that he could probably come, because nobody from his crowd would ever come to something as blatantly freakish as the Rocky Horror Live Show. Charlie came because he was really curious about what the show was about. He would be in for a surprise. I couldn't wait to see their faces when they saw us.

Being Halloween, everyone in the audience was dressed in their best Rocky Horror finery. A few exceptional Rocky impersonators had already caught my eye when we walked past the line waiting to enter. I spotted our own Rocky enter the dressing room through the mirror I was using to put on my vibrant turquoise eye shadow. I watched cynically as Sam (our Janet) leaped off the dressing table she had been perched on and skip over to give him a kiss.

This was an unfortunate development as far as I was concerned, although one not entirely unpredictable. Craig just didn't sit well with me as good boyfriend material, but try convincing Sam of that. She's the most stubborn when "in love". The guy was a great artist, sure, but a real pompous dick most of the time. I don't see what Sam sees in these guys. Not to mention what this new relationship must be doing to Charlie. He had found out about it at one of our parties, and I had decided it my responsibility to keep him company while the two danced, Sam mooning after Craig with large, love-struck eyes.

"Why do you think Sam likes Craig?" Charlie asked with a dejected tone as we sat on the couch, Charlie drinking his first beer. I paused to think, and finding nothing particularly good to say, resorted to physical appeal.

"He's cut and hunky?" I said with a questioning upraised tone. Charlie looked down at his own slender frame and just nodded. Letting out a sigh, he took a sip of beer, and then choked on it, wincing at the taste. He held up the glass, looked at it, then let out a noncommittal grunt and took another sip. I held back a smile at this behavior, figuring Charlie didn't need to be ridiculed right now, no matter the good intention. I wanted to tell him that he didn't need to be cut and hunky to be a much better choice, even in physical appearance, in my opinion, but decided not to complicate things. I just patted him on the back with a sigh.

The guy had shit luck.

Coming out of my reverie, I added another thick layer of mascara and decided I was ready. I laughed at my heavily blushed and powdered face. I made a pretty good Frank 'N Furter, and it always amused me to see that face staring back at me in the mirror.

"Alright, let's give these guys our best show yet," I declared as I swiveled around and stood up. Mary Elizabeth smirked and Alice, Sam and Craig all gave a cheer. Well, Craig tried. He's not the most exuberant of people but he pretends, unlike Mary Elizabeth.

We came out on to the stage to tumultuous applause, cat whistles and cheers. We inflicted our good-humored torture on the show's "virgins", including one slightly awkward Charlie. I gave him an especially hard time, but he was a good sport. It made up for Brad pretending he wasn't a "virgin"- no one called him on it. The movie started up, and we assumed our roles.

Towards the end of the show, during my favorite song of the movie, I started to head down off the stage.

Whatever happened to Fay Wray?

That delicate satin draped frame

As it clung to her thigh, how I started to cry

I slowly ran my hands up my thighs to my stomach, throwing my head back dramatically.

Cause I wanted to be dressed just the same

I sashayed down the stairs, and spotting Charlie in the front row, felt my lips quirk up in a wicked grin. I ambled over to him and threw myself into his lap, bridal style. He tensed beneath me and scrambled to get hold of me with his arms, subsequently pressing me closer to his chest. His eyes were wide, his attention rapt.

Give yourself over to ultimate pleasure

As I lip-synched the words I brought my lips close to his and made a biting motion with my mouth. He grinned helplessly and looked away. I dragged his face back toward mine, wiggling my fishnet clad, stiletto-heeled legs back and forth. The girl sitting on the side of my legs giggled loud enough to be heard over the roar of the audience.

Swim the warm waters of sins of the flesh

Charlie's earlier embarrassed expression slid into something less readable. He squirmed in his seat, but kept his arms wrapped around me, so I followed suit and wrapped mine around his neck languidly. I would ignore the change in his expression for now. I was having too much fun.

Erotic nightmares beyond any measure

I released myself from his hold, and stood up with my back to him. Both girls on either side of Charlie were now giggling uncontrollably as I shook my ass in his face.

Can't you just see it? Whoa ho ho!

Don't dream it, be it.

Don't dream it, be it.

I decided Charlie had had enough, so with one impish backward glance, I headed back to the stage. He still wore that bewildered expression with a smile that looked like it forgot it was still there, his arms frozen as if he still held me. Maybe it was culture shock. Queer culture shock. I don't imagine many transvestites had sat on his lap before. I rejoined the rest of the crew to their chorus of "don't dream it, be it" to finish the show in the relative confines of the stage.

When the show ended and we had all changed into our normal clothes, Brad found me in the dressing room, where we had all, including Charlie, gathered. I jumped when I saw him; somehow I had forgotten he had come during the course of the show.

"You were awesome. I can't believe you did that to Charlie. I was sitting right behind him. He practically fainted," He murmured to me. I blinked twice. How had I not seen him when he was so close to me? I blushed slightly in both confusion and a slight amount of pride at his compliment.

"I'm awesome all the time. You should come more often. Maybe I'll sit in your lap next show," I purred, trying to recover my senses. Brad shifted his eyes to check that no one was near.

"I'll stick with observing, thanks. I gotta go now," he said tensely. Apparently I couldn't even imply physical contact when part of a show. Brad's worries didn't stop him from checking me out one more time on the way out, so I decided to be content with that.

I looked over at Charlie, who still looked a bit dazed. I walked over and threw my arm over his shoulder. He jumped at my touch, but quickly recovered and smiled up at me. I felt a small pang of hurt. Was he scared of me touching him now?

"You were right, it was an awesome show," He told me, still grinning loosely, but his eyes had drifted toward the ground.

"Hey man, you aren't upset about what happened, are you? I thought it would be funny. We usually mess with the audience..." I drifted off.

"No, No! It was funny. I promise. I just...well...I don't know really. I promise I'm fine," He reassured me, with a slight panic to his voice. I settled for that, and with a nod, turned around to grab my bag. He grabbed my arm, and startled, I turned around. He dropped it hastily, a flush rising on his cheeks.

"Really...I'm fine. You're my best friend Patrick. You couldn't weird me out," he told me and my heart did a little somersault. We both smiled genuine smiles, and then laughed to break the awkward silence. Grabbing my bag I rejoined the group and the general conversation.

Charlie called me his best friend. Not his second-to-Sam best friend, but his best best friend. And I was oddly pleased by that fact.