We're just going to keep going on this. :)

Thank you to my lovely Beta Reader! Kerapal Bubbles is the best!

Unlocking the door to the apartment, he peeked his head inside and let out a sigh of relief in the dark empty kitchen. He quickly opened the door to avoid the squealing hinges, and just as he successfully shut the door without any hint of a squeak, the lights flicked on over his head.

He was momentarily blinded.

"Where. Have. You. BEEN? I have been worried sick about you!"

Van close his eyes in defeat as he bolted the door shut and turned to confront his little sister.

"Now, Merle, I-"

"Oh, my God! What happened to your head?" Her spiked pink hair was a flyaway mess as she rushed over and grabbed his arm. Pulling him to one of the kitchen chairs, her small fingers instantly poked at the bandage around his forehead.

"Kid, stop. You're going to mess up the wrapping. I'm fine. I just got knocked down."

"By what? A damn bull?"

"You know I don't like that language."

"You know I don't like you coming in at 3 in the damn morning, bro," she responded with a quirked eyebrow. Standing over him in one of his red t-shirts, she looked like the little girl he knew so well. A smile curved on his lips as she gripped the sides of his face and her worried eyes slipped all over his head. "But seriously, what happened?"

"I… got tackled in the street…" he said hesitantly and Merle's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Who did it? I'll kill him."

"Well… it wasn't necessarily a guy…"

Her fingers dug into his cheeks and squashed his face. "A woman did this!?"

"Look, Merle, my head's fine. This isn't important. I have something I need to talk to you about." He put the stained folder on the table and took her hands off his face. "Sit down."

"Van, what…?" Her expression turned both curious and fearful. "You haven't spoken like that since mom and dad…"

"This is important and it concerns both of us."

Her pink hair flipped into her left eye as she obediently sat in the kitchen chair and stared him, waiting. He took a deep breath and let it go slowly. "You know how I left the White Dragons three years ago and decided to write songs as a career?"

"Your songs will sell," Merle immediately jumped in. "Just give it more time. People go back and forth when it comes to the music industry. Yeah, sure, dub-step and remixes are all the rage, but there's a reason The Beatles are still so popular. They sang ballads and beautiful hymns and that's what you're good at. People like the sensitive stuff. It'll turn around! I know it will!"

"Merle, I got an offer from Allen. He wants me back. He told me he'd use my songs and pay me double what I used to get if I rejoined the band."

The kitchen was dead quiet as Merle just gazed at him in wide disbelief. Then she snorted a laugh. "Van, you're not serious."

"It's hard to read because of… reasons… but here." He scooted the folder to her. "I've already signed a contract. I had to make a decision, Merle. I'm… back in."

Her lips were curved in an unexpected grin. "No, this is impossible, Van. You know that Allen's changed, right? He's not going to sing your lyrics the way you want. Have you even heard what he's been producing lately?"

"I've avoided it until today," Van answered bitterly. "He's going hip-hop…"

Merle shook her head and a giggle escaped. "Not just hip-hop, bro. He's going full thug-life on the White Dragons. He's attempting heavy R&B. And I am sorry to tell you, but he's kind of popular in a bad way."

"What do you mean 'in a bad way'?"

"Let me put it so you'll understand," Merle touched a finger to her chin. "You know how things go viral on the internet even though what you are seeing is usually horrible?"

"Yeah?"

"Allen in a nutshell." She giggled again. "Except that's making him sound better than he actually is. He's a laughing stock, Van. If he tries to put a mix on your songs, it's going to crash and burn."

"Fantastic," Van sighed. "I just signed my life and music away to thirty-year-old wannabe."

"Don't do it. You don't have to give him the contract tomorrow - which smells and looks like puke, by the way." Merle made a face and a smile touched Van's lips. "It's not worth it."

"Three years I've tried to be a solo-lyricist and look where we are, kid. You had to change schools, we've moved four times, and our savings are dropping fast. Allen may be awful, but he's our means of survival. I want to provide you with a proper life. I want to put you through college. I want to see you walk across a stage with a diploma in your hand. I gotta give that to you for mom and dad. I gotta make sure you can make it..."

Merle stood from the chair and wrapped her arms around Van's neck. Burrowing her head in his neck, she said, "You're a good brother. Too good, if you ask me."

"That brings me to my other topic," Van grimaced taking her arms off his neck. "Allen told me he has a single ready to go. He showed me the demo. It's… not what I expected, but if I provide the rest of the album and I'm able to give him one more hit single there's the possibility we will be catching onto his tour. He wants this to happen by next month if we can manage it."

"Next month?" Merle gasped. "Next month and you'll be on tour!? You haven't even given him the papers yet and you're already planning a tour!? You'll be leaving me behind!? You're not going to do that! I refuse to stay here-"

"No, no, no, kid. You didn't let me finish. I've already decided I'll be taking you with me if that happens."

Merle's dark eyes widened and her expression did a 180 to joy. "Van, you're taking me on tour with you? I'll get out of school and come with you!? I'll be traveling all over the country!?" She leapt up and jumped on the balls of her feet. "I won't have to be in school anymore!"

"Not so fast!" Van grinned at her happiness. "I'm getting you a tutor. You are going to continue your education on the road. And this isn't set in stone. I'm letting you know the plan in case the two singles go well. If we gain enough popularity with the album-"

"I'll make sure of it! I'll sell them myself! All of my friends will own two copies each! No, five! One on their phones, two on their computers, one on the iPads, and I know Kendra has a Kindle somewhere…"

"No bullying people to buy music!" Van laughed and checked the stove. "It's 4 in the morning, kid! You have school! Go to bed!"

"You won't be able to say that once you go on tour, bro!" Merle cheered as she scampered back to her bedroom.

"If, kid! I said, if!"

Hitomi's phone sang from the coffee table and she groaned. Already six in the morning. It felt like she'd just laid down. Grabbing the noisy electronic, she shut off the alarm and willed herself to sit up. Running a hand through her short locks, she grabbed a half-full water bottle and drained it. Shifting out of the blankets draped on the squashy couch, she stretched and headed for the shower.

"Geezus, piece of bitch-ass furniture!" she screamed as she slammed her knee on the cabinet door. "Damn it, Yukari! You never shut this thing!"

"Shut up!" her friend called from the dark bedroom next over.

Grumbling, she took a quick shower and, with a toothbrush hanging out of her mouth, picked out her clothes for day from her large suitcase. Dressing in the nicest pants she owned and a flowery blouse, she rinsed her mouth out, grabbed her lesson bag, and headed out the door for her motorcycle.

Van didn't usually walk Merle to school, but it seemed like a good day to make sure she actually entered the building – or at least made it to the school yard. Tucking the stained folder under his arm, he followed her swaying little ponytail.

"Seriously, bro. You don't have to come. I'm fine walking by myself."

"You were up late last night. This is just to make sure you don't run off to take a nap somewhere," Van gave her a stern look.

"Geez, I only did that twice!" Merle groaned. "You make a big deal out of everything. And besides, what's the point in going to this stupid school if I won't be here next month?"

"The tour isn't set in stone, kid!"

"I know. I know. One can dream, can't they?"

Van stopped at the crosswalk and Merle rolled her eyes. He was such a stickler for the rules. Not a car in sight and he had to wait for permission from a stupid light to tell him to cross the street.

"When are you going to see Allen?"

"After I drop off you." He said quietly. She knew that tense wrinkle in-between his eyebrows.

"Bro, you don't have to. We can figure something else out. I can get a part-time job or something."

"I've decided, kid. I'll try this one more time. Who knows? Maybe we can pull this off and be millionaires." The wrinkle increased to his forehead and she sighed. A loud rumbling noise growled from around the corner, but both were too lost in their thoughts to pay attention. The light signaled their safety and they stepped off the curb.

Just as a motorcycle sped dangerously around the corner-

"Merle!" Van gasped, and dropped the contract folder to pushing his sister out of the way. She stumbled forward with a scream. The driver pulled hard on the brakes and twisted the front wheel dangerously to the left. He stood transfixed as the driver leapt like a lioness from the seat and the bike tipped over to its side; scraping along the road right in front of Van. It stopped short right in front of him and the wheel hit the fallen folder, ripping the entire thing in half.

"Van! My God! Are you okay?" Merle shrieked, running up to him.

Van, his eyes staring at his near death experience, watched the figure behind the smoking bike straighten from where they'd landed on their feet and rip the black helmet off their head. His heart clenched and his stomach dropped to his knees at the sight of a pixie-haircut. The woman shook her head and turned towards them. Van's fears were confirmed. Her yellow uniform had been replaced with brown pants and a blouse. Her sparking green eyes flickered over to him briskly as if she didn't recognize him and then swiveled down to her wrecked bike.

This was the last person he'd wanted to see.

"What the hell!?" Merle shouted at the woman stepping forward. "Are you insane!? Are you trying to- wait… Miss Hitomi?!"

"You know her?" Van asked, shaking from his rushing adrenaline.

"She's a volunteer at the school," Merle answered with a piercing scowl. "Not that anyone wants her to be there. She's a horrible tutor."

The woman tilted her head thoughtfully and ignored the insult. "Merle Fanel, is it? Headed to school?"

"Where else would I be headed to?" Merle spat with her hands on her hips. "You should watch where you're going! You almost killed us, you psychopath! We could sue you for this! Bro, call the cops! They'll drag her off to jail where she belongs!"

The woman let out a snort at his sister and pent to pick up her bike. Checking it over quickly, she clicked her tongue at a long scratch on the side. Dragging the heavy motorcycle to the curb, Van was still transfixed.

He felt his sister grab his arm and pull. "Come on. Let's get out of the road before another crazy driver comes along. Let's call the police. They'll get rid of her." But Van took a step towards the woman; bringing Merle along.

"Van, wha-"

"Do you remember me?" He asked the pixie woman. She was mounting her bike, but her green eyes flicked up to catch his. "What?"

"Do you remember me from last night? I ate at the restaurant." He pointed at the bandage around his head.

Her mouth fell open as the recognition hit home. "You… barfed on me…"

"What?" Merle cried.

"After you pushed me over and I hit my head." Van added darkly.

"I said I was trying to save your life!" The woman snapped back. "God, that'll teach me for trying to be a good person!"

"The car wasn't anywhere near me!"

"I didn't know that it would turn left! It looked like it was coming straight for you!"

"Like you were doing just now!" Van shouted. "Showed up to finish me off, huh?"

"I'm here for school!" she roared back. "Almost running over you was an unlucky coincidence!"

"You have no excuse to yell at me! You could have killed me and my sister! You're not even apologetic about it!"

"Sorry!" she cried out, her green eyes wild and dangerous. "You want to sue me? Get in line!" She kicked her bike alive and it snarled loudly. The siblings watched her swivel on the road and speed off towards the school. Turning away from her, Van glanced down at the ripped folder scattered on the road and pushed down the urge to growl in frustration.

"She's awful," Merle hissed with distain as the rumbling faded away. "I don't know why she even bothers showing up there. She isn't very good at teaching."

"She volunteers?" Van asked with the same look of irritation picking up the pieces of paper. Together, they crossed the street just as the pedestrian walk signal turned red.

"Yeah, she's been there for about a year now. My school lets her because she works for free. Shows what a wonderful school I go to. They let a lunatic like her around kids." Her pink fringe flipped as she looked at her brother. "So, she's the one who knocked you over last night? How in the hell did that even happen? She's at least a foot shorter than you! You couldn't even hold your ground against her? That's pathetic."

"Kid…" Van sighed and closed his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"What in the…" Allen took off his white star-shaped sunglasses to stare at the ripped, stained, and smelly papers of Van's contract. Allen's long nose wrinkled as he nudged the papers closer with a finger. "Dude, I can't … I just can't right now…"

"You can still see the signature. I signed it." Van sat forward in the leather chair and pointed at the barely readable line of ink.

"It reeks like ralph."

"Yeah, well, I had an accident."

Allen smirked despite the smell. "Got turnt up AF last night? I know that feel, brah. That hit looks good on you, by the way. Maybe you should have the renegade look and we can put bandages on ya. All thug and shit, or nah?"

"Uh, sure, whatever." Van shrugged hiding his confusion at the blonde's strange words. "You've got your contract. I can email the song I have in mind for the single when I get home."

Allen clapped his hands. "Good to see you're ready to slay! My fam, Chid, is out ATM, but he should BRB. He's the one who remixed the new song. A regular protégé, brah. I wanted to show you the first single's drop. It's final, man, Totes final. They'll be dead when they hear it."

"Dead?" Van asked bewildered. Allen ignored him and pressed a button on the remote resting on his couch. A stereo behind Van lightened up and a metrological beat started thumping from the speakers. Van watched Allen's foot bounce in time with the music. The blonde put his glasses back on and lifted a finger in the air. The music was drifting higher and higher in a weird spiraling sound. Suddenly, all the music cut off.

"That's it?" Van quirked an eyebrow.

"Chill on it…"

"Chill on what-"

BOOOM! The speaker gave a loud blast as the music burst into a rigorous pulsation that Van jumped in his seat. "Sweet Jesus, turn it down!" He yelled, his voice barely carrying over the pounding vibration.

Allen laughed as he switched down the music and Van heard a slight ringing in the back of his ear.

"God, Allen, how are you not deaf?"

"I'm flex, brah." His old friend smiled. "I'm on fleek. So, whaddya think? Burn the floor, amirite?"

"What is the name of it?"

"Quesadilla. Final, right? I wanted to ask ya to pick sumthin' 'bout food from your song list, brah. We're mellowing about a food themed album, dig it?"

Looking at his friend's casual smile, straight billed hat, and tacky sunglasses, Van felt the pit of his stomach fall to his knees for the second time that day. "I'm not sure about this, Allen. You know me, man. You know what I can do. I'm… not this. Can I even play the guitar with this kind of music?"

"Sure, brah! Not on the single releases, but the album can be basic."

"Basic…" Van shook his head slowly. "What constitutes this song to be about quesadillas? How can lyrics even be put with… with… what I just heard? Why do you even need me if this is what you want? You're a completely different person now, Allen. I'm not sure I can keep up."

Allen's smile slipped off his lips and he straightened up.

He gestured to the contract. "I'm willing to sign on and be a part of this again. I need the money. I'm just worried I'm not what you want."

Sitting forward, Allen took off his hat and glasses. Van saw the tired flicker in his blue eyes. He ran long fingers through his blond locks. With a sigh, he finally spoke plainly.

"The thing is, I can't do it alone, Van. Ever since you broke from the White Dragons, it just hasn't been the same. I've tried, man. I've tried to keep up with the times, but this isn't working. Not like it used to be. We had something when we played together on stage. The two of us belting our lungs out for a screaming crowd. Throwing it down on guitar and keyboard. We were a team. I just feel like… like if I had my best friend by my side again, I could make it. We could be a team again. We could stand up together and show them that we are important still."

"But… why, man? Why do we have to prove we are still important like this? Why not do it the way we know how?"

"Because, brah!" Allen put his sunglasses back on and his smile was back. "You part of ma squad, hommie. And my hommies never give me shade."

It was later-afternoon when Van finally left Allen's apartment and headed for the little dive restaurant. Chid, Allen's nephew, came in after several hours and Van realized where Allen had gotten his new lingo. The boy was dangerous looking. Pierced gaged ears, tattoos down his neck and shoulders, and his blond hair shaved, Chid gave Van a cold look before heading to the back room and slamming the door shut.

"Love ma fam," Allen had said with a sparkling grin. "His old lady sent him to stay with me 'cuz he got a warrant in his state."

"He won't be traveling with us, right?" Van had asked worriedly thinking about Merle.

"He says he don't want no part of our shit except for his cut in remixing."

A sense of relief had hit him, but it was immediately tarnished when Allen asked him what type of food his single was going to be about.

Van avoided the answer by changing the subject. One thing he'd learned quickly was this new Allen was very distractible.

"How are we going to perform? Without the guitar and keyboard, we can't just stand there, right?"

And then the ball was dropped.

Allen had clasped his hands together happily.

"We'll be dancing hip-hop together!"

Tucking into his jacket from the cold, Van felt weary. How did his world get so crazy? Was money really that hard to come by that he had to sell himself and his pride for it? Dancing to hip-hop songs? Writing music about food? Speaking like he was a fifteen-year-old thug?

Seeing the dive's sign from a block away, Van gave a reluctant smile. Maybe the single should be about pancakes. Or the story of how he puked it all over the waitress after she tackled him to the ground. He shook his head and the smile disappeared.

There was nothing sexy about that.

Allen wouldn't want it. Those were his old songs. Now he had to write about making food sound like sex.

Great.

Pancakes sounded like panties… he could work with that…

A loud growling noise erupted from behind him and he turned his head to see a black motorcycle racing down the street. Maybe he could write about how the waitress' green eyes reminded him of large green olives… He snorted a laugh. Olives were less than sexy. And anything about that waitress was probably unlucky anyway.

It was better if he stayed as far away from that waitress as possible. Check in with Balgus and never look back after.

He stopped in front of the door to the restaurant and squared his shoulders. The smell of breakfast wafted over him and his stomach growled. Maybe he'd stay for a meal…

Suddenly, the door slammed open violently and the door handle hit him hard in the groin. Van doubled over in agony as a yellow uniformed waitress stomped out. Tears welled in his eyes and his entire body seized up like he was dying. Falling to his knees rocking back and forth with his trembling hands clutching the front of his pants, he looked up into the wide eyes of the pixie waitress.

"Son of a…" she hissed with rage. "Just what I need! Why are you here?"

Van couldn't speak. His lips trembled with possible words, but all he could emit were squeaks of pain.

"What have you done now?" Balgus' familiar snarl echoed from the restaurant. His large head peeked around the woman and he dropped his spatula. Brushing past her, he rested his hand on Van's shoulder and said, "Son, what's she done to ya!? Speak to me! Are you okay?"

"My… My…" his voice was a soft whisper. People were beginning to stop walking and watch him from the street.

"Come on in, boy. I'll get you some ice," Balgus rumbled and his hands moved to lift Van by his arm-pits. "You get out of the way!" He barked at the pixie waitress and she rolled her eyes.

Leaning on the large man, Van heard her say loudly behind his head, "I didn't mean to hit him. You told me to move my bike! I was just doing what I was told!" She picked up the fallen spatula and tapped it on her leg.

"Can't you do anything properly without creating collateral damage?" the old man growled back. Heading to the booth he was in yesterday, Van sat gently and noticed a familiar pink head in the table next over.

"Merle?" his voice cracked.

And the insanity will continue soon. I'm working on all of my stories right now. This one has such small chapters that it's easier to finish and post. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

It will only get crazier from here on out.

Thank you to everyone who reads, reviews, favorites, and alerts! You make my day happy with sunshine and rainbows.

Tootles!

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