Four.

"So this is the coke whore."

I grin, watching his performance from my spot by the door. Somehow, this feels familiar but I don't know why. I bristle as she shoots back a lame 'Who the hell are you?' before obediantly shutting off the lights.

A shiver runs down my spine as I watch him act as crazy as I knew he was. The lights flicker despite how I turned them off, and his laughter rings in my ears. When Thaddeus grabs him from behind I don't scream, I know it's all part of the act. The Whore is dragged onto the ground in the end, panicking.

My laughter joins his.

When I feel like she's had enough, I turn the lights back on, causing Thaddeus to cower back into the shadows of his hidden room, and watch smugly as she quivers, looking around frantically before bolting from the room. I turn to Tate, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"I'd say a job well done, yeah?"

My smile is slow, and I wrap my arms around him. He leans down to my height. Our foreheads meet; Our eyes are boring into each other. I kiss him, lightly. "Oh...my hero."

That's how things should have gone for him. It's what he wanted; What I want for him.

What Violet would never give him.

"Oh my Jesus, honey. Will you stop yammering about that little freak for two seconds?"

I jump awake and sit up to see Chad standing beside me with his arms crossed. He flicks a finger through his bangs and rolls his eyes. "Well thank god you finally woke up. Seriously, Tate Langdon? You know what he did sweetheart, so what the hell do you think you're going to achieve getting with a dead guy like him? Do you think you can change him or something?"

"I...I don't know what you're talking about. I barely even know Tate, how could I like him?" Oh god, if he heard me, Violet heard me. What would Violet do if she knew how I felt about Tate? She'd hate me...

"You don't have to act stupid, Violets sulking in the study reading books or whatever." He said grinning, walking around my room and picking up random objects. "I can't believe you chose the basement of all places. And the décor," He grimaced, "Ugh. You've ruined my house."

"So you came in here to wake me up and complain about how I talk in my sleep?" At this he dropped my rubix cube, his hand limped while he rolled his head around with a cocky smile on his face.

"No, I just happened to hear you. Again. You do this a lot you know, and almost everyone knows about how you feel except for Violet and a few other nobodies." My heart skipped. Did that mean that Tate knew? I could barely manage a few words before he was talking again, seating himself beside me on the bed the way a mother would before kissing her child goodnight. He whispered, "I'm just trying to save you from yourself."

I narrowed my eyes at him. The point he was trying to make was sinking in. "You're not saving me from anything."

He just clicked his tongue. "Oh I am, Lydia. Trust me. You'll look back at this conversation and be thinking, 'Damn I wish I'd listened to Chad when I had the chance. Now look at me. I'm dead.' He raped her mother, I know you know that."

"For Nora."

Chad let out a baffled scoff, his voice dripping sarcasm. "'For Nora'. So he was trying to be a hero!"

"It wasn't even rape. You can't willingly have sex with someone and decide it was by force. Mistaken sex, yes, but there was no rape. And he did it to comfort Nora. You wanted the baby yourself when you thought you had a chance with Patrick, you should have thanked him." I kept my eyes level with his, trying to keep my emotions in check. No way was I going to let this asshole ruin my day from the start. Wait...why did I even care? I didn't know Tate personally, so why was I going out of my way to defend him?

Chad just shook his head slowly from side to side. "Poor little Goth girl...he's got you're head aaaall twisted, and he doesn't even have to try, does he?"

And then he was gone.

I blushed. Now that the lights were coming on in the theatre I could see Liam looking down at me. His eyes were all sweet emotion. It felt nice. I could pretend that I was normal for a couple of hours. I sat up and pushed my hair back behind my ears before finally standing and following him out of the room. Thankfully, now that I was out of that house, Tate was the furthest thing from my mind. It made me dread the idea of going back. The longer I spent in there, the worse the poison effected my mind. I glanced at Liam and smiled...he was the closest thing that I had to an antidote right now. He made me okay again.

"You okay? You're not scared are you?" He teased, nudging me with his elbow. I gripped his arm a little tighter.

"Ouja? Oh god no," I laughed. "I still remember the original from when I was little. Have you seen it?"

"Honestly, no. My mother wouldn't let me watch that kind of stuff when I was little. She was afraid I'd actually try it." He gave an embarrassed grin. A little part of me lit up, he was sharing with me about his life.

I got to bask in the moment a little bit while he ordered us something to eat at the snack bar and brought it over to the cafe table we'd seated ourselves at.

"Tell me more about your mother." I asked eagerly when he got back.

He scratched his neck awkwardly. "I'd really rather not talk about her right now, it's uh...not really first date material... Oh but there is something I wanted to show you!"

One had to admire the way he could change the mood in an instant. What little melancholic atmosphere had been there quickly dissipated as he leaned in, his index finger and thumb lifted to his eyes. I watched him in slight confusion.

"Are you ready?"

I nodded.

He stuck his fingers in his eyes, directly in the center of each one and I realized he was taking out his contacts. I hadn't even realized that he was wearing any until he took them out. Then I froze, watching him in awe as he blinked a few times and stared directly into my own eyes from only an inch or two away from my face.

"So...you're mother's not first date material...but revealing the fact that you're secretly albino is? She must have been pretty bad!" I chuckled a little bit trying to keep the mood light, but I kept getting lost in his excited grin, and the intensity of his...pink eyed stare.

"I think of it as like a first date test. When I really like a girl I just...take out the contacts and see how she reacts. It's probably the quickest way I've found so far to get to know someone, other than holding them over a volcano like Shan Yu suggests." His face was so animate when he was talking. His eyes made all of his expressions seem so much more dramatic.

"And what have you learned about me?" My voice sounded different, but I didn't know why. It felt like someone had their hand wrapped around my heart and was lightly squeezing it.

"Everything that I need to know."

I don't know if I whimpered because he closed his eyes, or because of how soft his lips felt against mine. They were so gentle and sweet. His hand weaved into my hair and held me close, even after he broke the kiss, and he rested his forehead against mine. I did my best to keep from thinking back to my dream, but flashes of it still crossed through my mind.

"I think I like you Cherie. A lot."

"I think I like you, too, Liam." I kissed him again, enjoying the way he rubbed his thumbs over my wrist when he held my hand. "I don't want to go back home. I want to stay with you just a little longer."

Liam pet the back of my hair with the hand that was still wound in it, his excited smile dulled down to a sweet smirk. "What you're dad think? Not to mention it's only our first date, you know. I can't exactly take you home with me."

"I know..." I sighed. "My dad wouldn't give a shit anyway though, he just acts like he does."

His face was sympathetic. "I get the feeling, but I'm sure it'd make a difference when he found out I was twenty years old, and lived on my own. Surely he's not that negligent."

You have no idea. "Wait...you're twenty?"

"Yeah." He laughed. "And you're sixteen, we already went over this."

I honestly didn't remember that, but okay... I let the moment pass and we sat in silence for a while sitting there holding each other. I really, really didn't want to leave, but he eventually stood up and started walking me home.

"I wanna learn more about you!" I told him, bumping into his shoulder lightly. He just blushed and scratched his head. Even when he didn't look at me I got lost in his eyes. Something about them just kind of... made him.

"Weeelll..." He sighed, "I was born in 'ninety-four. I have mother issues. I like chocolate, sunset dinners, and romantic walks on the beach."

I giggled at the last part as he jokingly leaned down to me, pressing his face so close to mine that I felt myself shiver. We made an odd pair; Him—so tall, almost six foot four and me—so short, barely five feet.

"Now tell me about you."

I sucked in a slow sharp breath, "I also like chocolate, my favorite band is...In The Moment...at the moment. I have daddy issues, oddly enough, and I love Batman—well Scarecrow technically but that's besides the point. Plus, I would really like to go for that long walk on the beach right about now."

"Mmm...nope. I think I'm going to get you home. Maybe next time though." He grinned smugly.

"Scarecrow would've done it." I pouted, trying to hide my own smile while I sneaked a glance at him.

"Oh, so I've got competition now, huh?"

I winked at him, circling around to face him as we finally reached the gates outside of my house."Oh yes." ...you have no idea...

Although I kept up my charade, I was already losing that sweet addictive feeling that Liam gave me, just by being close to the house. He glanced at it as well, nervously; probably worried my father might be watching. When he was sure that no one could see us, he turned back to me, leaning down and kissing me again, even more tenderly than the last time. An empty sigh rushed out of me..I couldn't feel anymore. The only thing I'd felt in such a long time was ripped away by the mere closeness of the house.

My tears were cold. Like physical proof of my emotions draining out of me to leave me vacant. Liam noticed, giving nothing more than a sympathetic look.

"Next time, I'll keep you as long as you want. Okay?" He nodded, I nodded back almost desperately.

"Promise?"

"I promise." With one last strand of my hair ran through his fingers, he turned around and left. I didn't go inside until he was out of sight.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You made me happy, when skies are gray..." I followed the voice into my kitchen, where Constance sat, bouncing Micheal on her knee. He had to have been about two, almost three at the time. She looked up at me and grinned when I came in. "Welcome home, Cherie. I was beginin' to wonder if you might ever get back from you're date."

The way she articulated 'date' was unsettling. I noted the action and watched her cautiously. "Yes, I didn't really want to come home yet either, but, he insisted."

"Oh, a true gentleman I'm sure." She set the boy down, watching as he ran around but kept close. Her eyes warned him every time he'd start to go out of sight and look back to check if she'd noticed. It was cute, in a way.

"Did he walk you home?"

"...yes?"

"Good. As he should have."

"Aren't you risking him being seen by bringing him here? I thought you didn't want anyone to know about him." I gestured to little Micheal, and sat next to her. Moira was sure to turn up soon. It was clear that she didn't trust this woman anymore than I or anyone else did.

"I am, but I feel bad keeping him in there all day. Eventually he'll start running out on his own anyways so I figured I'd at least bring him somewhere close by. Besides...I want him to meet his father. At least once." The wrinkles in her face shook slightly as she tried to keep her face straight and...honestly positive is the only word for it. Happy is too strong a word for what she was managing to project.

I thought of Tate almost instantly. In a way I was curious to see how he would react to his own son, but then again, why hadn't he met the boy already anyway? Why wouldn't she have tried this before?

"I've been under watch from the police." She explained, I guess it was obvious what my next question would have been. She lit her cigarette and took a long draw from it, hissing out the air. "They've made good on their promise to keep those little, bug eyes of theirs on me. They only just gave up in the past few months, and I figured, why not go ahead and take a shot at it, hmm? I've been made to wait far too long as it is."

"And you think that Micheal will give you some sort of bond with Tate again...don't you? That he'll be so grateful for you watching the only son he managed to have, he'll forgive you for everything else that you've done?"

"And you think it wont work?" There she went with that sudden articulation despite her southern accent. I began to wonder why exactly she chose to do that at certain, seemingly random, intervals. Was she aggravated? Did my going on that date aggravate her somehow for her to have done it then? Oh yea, there were questions, questions, questions...to be answered.

"I don't have a theory as to whether it will or wont to be honest. I'm just as curious as you right now."

Our eyes met; she was analyzing me, trying to determine how much of a threat I really was, what kind of person I was. The thought made me want to laugh. She would never know so long as I kept to my acting. No one would ever know.

Now tell me about you. I repressed a sigh as my thoughts rolled back to Liam. I did want him to know me, at least. One day. Something about him just resonated 'trustworthy'. But how could I show him myself, when I didn't know which pieces were a part of me, and which ones were just random fakes that seemed to piece together and didn't?

"Ms. Cherie, I'm glad to see you at home safe again. Can I get you anything to drink or eat?" Moira chimed cheerfully, shuffling into the kitchen.

"Chai tea would be perfect actually, thank you." Constance stood up and scooped Micheal up into her arms and walked off. I followed her, making sure to let Moira know that I intended on coming right back for the drink.

"You can't just wander around someone else's house without permission Constance. You know that." I called out, just as she started to open the door to the basement—my room. "And though I understand your history here, I would much rather you at least have the courtesy of asking."

"Stupid girl," she muttered, mostly to herself as she adjusted the baby on her hip, "This house doesn't belong to anybody. I would have thought you'd have figured that out by now."

The door was then swung open as she carefully walked down the steps. I imagine it was hard for her to keep her balance on her way down and lucky for her, I'd accidentally left the lamp on my side table lit, otherwise she would have had to navigate her way through the basement in the dark the whole way. I continued to follow her, watching curiously as she lit the main light, just as I put out the other.

The old woman didn't even bother looking at me directly when she threw her remarks over her shoulder. "Can't you give a mother a little privacy?"

I clicked my tongue, wagging my finger back and forth. "You don't get privacy in this house. You have a record."

"Oh of course. It's not like you're family has a damn thing worth taking anyway." She growled under her breath. Then ignored me completely.

"Tate? Tate, sweetie. I brought someone who would really love to meet you."

It turns out I hate my mother. He wasn't showing up. I doubted he would at all. The way the whispers continued on, almost unaffected pretty much proved that. Still, I was curious as to how he might react to his own son.

"Constance, I have an idea."

"Not now, I'm busy. Tate, sweetheart. Come here, just for a moment." She looked around, refusing to be defeated. Her expression was a pitiful desperation as she turned looking in any part of the room she thought he might have shown up in.

"He's not coming." I barked, forcing her to hear me, "Not while you're here. Not now. But I think I know what might get him to show up."

"And what might that be, hmm? You want to hold the baby while I go for a little stroll?"

"Actually, yes."

She clutched Micheal tighter to her, her expression baffled. "You're crazy."

I held my arms out. "Do you want him to meet his father or not?"

Her eyes bounced between myself and the baby in her arms. Hesitantly, she took a step towards me, then looked around one more time. I was about to give up and just tell her to leave when she finally came over to where I sat on the bed, and gently handed Micheal over to me. I smiled warmly at him as he giggled and ran one of his little toddler hands along my cheek. "Cherry," he chirped.

"You'd better not hurt my boy. I wont go any further than upstairs, you hear? And if I hear anything—anything—that sounds remotely like him crying I'll come down here and make you bleed worse than a stuck pig." I bristled at how serious she was, and forced out a stiff nod. It was a relief when she finally went upstairs.

I hoped Violet would forgive me for this, but I couldn't help it. Have you ever thought about something so much that the more you tease the fantasy, the less you care about the consequences? To where all you want is that one thing no matter what it takes, even if it means making a complete and total ass of yourself? That's pretty much where I was at. With all of the dreams the house gave me, and the thoughts and memories it drilled into my head, I was starving.

The house made me long for contact with Tate. Any sort of conversation at all would have sufficed. It even made me want to sit there and play with his child...his child...forever. Micheal had his father's curly blonde hair and dark eyes, despite his youth, I noted.

It was several minutes before I could even manage to tear myself away from him to call out to Tate. I did my best to push Violet from my mind as I called out to the one person she hated most. With relief, the whispers stopped abruptly. Several feet away, there he stood. Broken looking, teary-eyed...practically grief stricken with the most awful angry look in his eyes.

"Is that any kind of first impression you would want to give your own son?" I whispered, running my fingers through Micheal's soft hair. Tate's lip quivered, and he took a slow step towards me.

"My son?" He asked meekly, watching the boy. The tilt of his head was the only sign of curiosity, as his expression remained the same.

"You chose to show yourself Tate. You know who he is." I kept myself calm, rational, unwillingly giving in to the moment and reveling in the rush of blood through my veins.

He just shook his head, slowly from side to side, watching as the child reached out for him. "Dada," Micheal cooed. It seemed like an electric shock to Tate as he knelt down, allowing the boy to touch his face with his chubby little hands.

"And he knows who you are."

I watched, fascinated as he reached his own hands out and held the sides of his sons face before sliding them under his little arms and gently picking him up. He walked around with him for a bit, bouncing the baby on his hip and holding his tiny hands.

"Hey there little guy," I heard him whisper. He said several other silly things while Micheal giggled happily in his arms. I smiled walking over to him so that I could watch him up close and hear the things he was saying. His face was completely different now that he had Micheal in his arms, it was bright, and happy. Like a father holding his newborn baby the day they were born, though of course, he never got that chance.

His head snapped towards the door when it creaked open, and Constance slowly made her way down the stairs, peaking over the railing as soon as she was close enough to dip her head down. She probably barely caught a glimpse of him before he shoved Micheal back into my arms and vanished. The last look I saw on his face that day was barely contained anger.

"He got to see Micheal at least." I told her, handing the boy back into her shaking arms. She didn't look away from the spot Tate had been in until she'd reflexively held onto the baby with a firm grip.

Her hand shook as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "T-thank you, Cherrie. You at least managed that much."

I followed her back up the stairs, watching as she left the house without another word, and sat myself at the island where my finished, now cold cup of chai sat waiting with Moira nowhere in sight yet again. I breathed out, exasperated. My life, had become the most irritating drama it had been in a long time.

After so long of being in that house with it's whispers, I couldn't stand it. I grabbed my phone and my headphones, blaring the music as always, and ran. This time, I ran straight for the park. The cool night air, the silence when I finally took out my earphones... it was perfect. I left them playing, so that I could still hear the lyrics and enjoy the silence. This song...though she sang it for whatever man she'd given herself to, I felt reminded me of that damned house and how it twisted my mind in such awful ways.

And without that house, I could finally recall that perfect, healthy emotion that Liam had given me, and fell asleep on the bench holding onto it as tightly as I could.

Who is Liam?

No SleepySiren, he's not Micheal, though it was a good guess. In chapter one I made a point to reference to Micheal just enough to show that he was in the story as well, still I want to know what you think so far! I dropped a few more hints to see if you could figure it out with a little more help. So far though I think only the hardcore nerds who watch and read the interviews would know, but there's a tid-bit of math involved as well. I will say that Liam is a name that I, personally chose four him. Thank you by the way for your most recent review, I was hoping I had kept everyone the way they were in the show, and please please please let me know if I ever fail or throw something in that you think doesn't quite fit how they would act. :)

Also, I mentioned that Micheal was only three because at this point in time he would be. He was born technically in 2012, though at the end of the season we see him years later and much older, I wanted to show that Cherie knew him before that incident. And who doesn't want to see Tate with his own son at least once? How do you think he should have reacted to seeing his own baby? Do you agree or disagree? Let me know! I wanna know what you think!

SineadJones, thank you so much for all of your comments and messages! I will most definitely keep your idea in mind, I'm just slowly trying to figure my way there. I will do my best to give you a good out come I promise!

Zypherblaze, I'm going to apologize to you in advance. You said you liked how my chapters were so long, and I'm doing my best to keep them that way, but with all the writers block and work and everything I'm afraid they might just keep getting shorter and shorter with just as few updates in between possibly. I'm so sorry!

Mysterious Stranger (Guest #1), I did realize how Violet and Cherie had gotten a little too close too quick, but I originally meant for this to be a one or two chapter story and so much other stuff kept popping in my head that I just kind of rushed everything to try and get it out faster. I kind of tried to cover that with some explanations and stuff, but I don't know if I quite fixed it at all. That's one thing I never like myself when I'm reading and I'm like, 'But wait, they just met, wtf?', so I am sorry for that.

Other Myterious Stranger (Guest #2), I love you. That's pretty much it. I just grin every time I go over the reviews and see your spazzy comments. I feel so loved. Thank you. :3

Please continue to leave reviews and let me know what you think so far!

-Beth