A.N.: Hey, everyone, it's been a while. The fact is, I've been wrestling with how to end this arc, and also I don't know if you've noticed but there's some stuff going down right now. Hope everyone out there's staying safe and healthy.

Chapter 13

It's Kinda Like Misery Except Not Really

-BRIAN-

Well, that had been a pleasant surprise.

I hadn't expected to see Helga here. Truth told, I'd barely even thought of her for quite some time; I mean, it's not as though I don't have a life and friends of my own at West Hillwood High. It's not as though I'd been a monk, either. I'd certainly dated my fair share over the years. And yet… the sight of her somehow managed to bring it all back. Those years lurking behind her, listening to her poetic ramblings, catching a fist in the face when she became aware of my presence… at one point I actually started to get kind of twitchy when I didn't get punched in the face. I'm sure there are some psychologists out there that would probably get a few dozen papers out of that kind of complex.

Anyway, I'm hardly that guy any more… for one thing, these days I can actually carry on a conversation with people instead of mumbling the odd word or two. And… was it just me, or was Helga actually a bit receptive back there? When I went over to see her, I had no illusion that she was going to immediately forget about Arnold and fall madly in love with me, but… she seemed genuinely happy to see and talked to me, and with Arnold temporarily out of the picture, and her apparently free to date, suddenly, there was hope.

And so, today, I was determined to make my set the best it could be. Today, I would be playing for hundreds, but I'd be playing to an audience of one.

It would be a while until that set, though. Until then, I had setup and equipment checks to take care of. It would do no good to impress Helga if my setup was anything less than perfect.

There was so much to set up… the mixing boards, the turntables, the woofers and subwoofers and other, more specialized equipment that I'd cobbled together out of gaming console sound cards. They had to be assembled in a fairly specific manner, or that sound would just not be optimal.

I was halfway done when I realized that one of the pieces, a card from a Game Guy Deluxe, was missing. I could definitely remember packing it. Had it fallen out of the box? I suppose I could go on without it, but everything had to be perfect.

Maybe retracing my steps would help? I tried to remember the path I'd taken while carrying the box. After several minutes of that, though, I was getting nowhere.

"Hey!" Someone was trying to get my attention. I looked up. A woman in a crew shirt and cap was trying to wave me down. I waved back to make sure it was me she was looking for. She nodded and waved me over. She had a deep tan and pale hair that spoke of a lifetime of beachside living. "You the DJ?" she asked.

"That's right," I confirmed.

"Right," she said. "Somebody turned in a circuit board at the lost and found. That's not the sort of thing you usually find lying around at the beach, so I figured that one of the performers brought it, and you seem like the most likely."

"You're right, I am missing a circuit board."

"Great! Come with me." She beckoned me to follow her. Soon, we had arrived at a shack far up the beach.

"The lost and found is over here?" I asked, suddenly a bit skeptical. "Seems a bit out of the way."

"Hey, I didn't choose it," she said, opening the door and beckoning me in. "The lost and found is that box over there," she said, indicating a box in the corner. I walked over and bent down to take a look inside.

"I think there's been a mistake. There's nothing in here but old T-sh-"

*WHAM*

I awoke in a haze of pain. Opening my eyes was no help; everything was a dark blue (probably because my glasses were gone). As the events that had brought me to this point began to reassemble themselves into a coherent image, I cursed myself for falling for the oldest trick in the book. Then again… I really had no reason to suspect some random crewperson of foul play, did I?

Okay, so… the crewperson (probably a fake) knocked me out and probably left me. What she had against me was anyone's guess; I'm pretty sure I've never seen her before in my life. A check of my pockets confirmed that she'd thought ahead enough to take everything I had, including my phone. Lord knows she couldn't have made it easy.

Well, at least she hadn't tied me up. I could move around freely, though standing up was a big mistake. I was forced to lean against the corrugated aluminum wall to steady myself. I remembered that the shack the phony crewperson had led me to had aluminum walls… unless she'd decided to drag my to a similar shack after knocking me out, I was probably still in the same place.

In any case, with my vision worthless at the moment, I had little recompense but to feel my way around the walls. Hopefully, I'd find the door or a light switch or…

*CRUNCH*

…my glasses. Lovely. Now, I was definitely blind for the foreseeable future. With nothing better to do at this point, I continued trying to feel my way around the room, eventually coming to the door. Locked. From the outside. Of course. No way it could be that easy. Compounding my bad luck, it turned out that there was a light switch, but it didn't work. So this was how it felt to be Eugene.

Nope, I was stuck here, until someone, be it my captor or a rescuer, found me. Once again, I was confused as to why anyone would bother attacking me. I didn't have any rivals among tonight's other acts as far as I know. I barely even knew most of them. And I certainly don't remember ever meeting the mystery crewperson before tonight, so I had no idea why she in particular would bear any sort of grudge against me. Maybe she was just some random lunatic. Maybe she just arbitrarily picked me out of the crowd. Or maybe this was some kind of Misery situation, she was a deranged fan and intended to keep me as a trophy. I wasn't exactly a superstar, but I'd played a few clubs and it was entirely possible someone in the crowd latched onto me… I'd certainly had my share of disturbing comments on my social media page.

Not that it mattered what her motivation is, it all just ended up with me locked away in here until something happened. I slumped against what I'd determined was the farthest corner from the door. Nothing to do now but await whatever came next.

-HELGA-

"So, this gnarly pounder is coming towards me, and I'm like, whoa, I gotta get a piece of this, right? But some grom cuts me off and I'm like, bogus, that was my wave!"

I snickered. "Well, if nothing else, you've definitely got the lingo down, Pheebs."

Phoebe giggled. "Why, thank you, Helga, I'm rather proud of it." She leaned in conspiratorially. "Soooo… how'd it go with Brainy?"

My eyes narrowed. "Are you implying something?"

She grinned back impishly. "Implying? Who's implying? Certainly not I. Nor am I inferring, alluding, or suggesting. I am merely asking a simple question so that I can obtain the information I require as to derive an informed conclusion as to whether you have a raging passion for your ex-stalker."

"You know, sometimes, I miss the days when you were my submissive lackey." I sighed. "Look, all that happened was that we caught up with each other a bit about what's been going on in our lives since high school. No, raging passion is not on the menu, I'm afraid."

"Still, you must admit he's a lot cuter these days, isn't he?"

"Oh, yeah, absolutely," I said before catching myself.

"AHA!" Phoebe declared triumphantly. "You HAVE noticed!"

"Well, yeah!" I protested. "So, he's gotten good-looking in kind of a geeky way! I'm not blind, Phoebe, I do notice these things! It's not like it means anything, though!"

"I suppose not."

"I mean, it's not as though he asked me out or anything. I've seen him maybe three or four times in the last two years. He probably got over me a long time ago."

"So you have thought about him asking you out."

"What? No, of course not! I barely even thought of him until he suddenly turned up. Being asked out by Brainy is pretty much the last thing on my mind."

"But… hypothetically… on the off-chance that he did…"

I opened my mouth to vehemently deny the possibility that I would ever even entertain such a preposterous thought. Me and Brainy? The guy who creeped on me from preschool straight on through fifth grade? Ha! The very notion! I mean, sure, he'd grown up tall and handsome and witty and talented and he'd composed music in my honor and Arnold and I had made it clear that dating other people was not off the table and it would certainly be a very lonely year without him and…

Uhhhh boy.

"…I don't know." I admitted. "Part of me still feels like I'd be betraying Arnold, but… I would be lying if I said I'd definitely absolutely positively say no."

Phoebe gasped. "Why, Helga… I do believe this is the first time you've even considered the possibility of an alternative to Arnold."

"I know… I'm shocked too. Can't believe that a month and a half ago I was undergoing a full Blue Screen of Death and now…" I sighed again. "It's not shallow of me, is it? Arnold was supposed to be my soul mate. Deep down… I still believe that. But is he really if I can move on? So easily?"

"Perhaps if you didn't think of it as moving on. Perhaps you should view it as similar to your date-"

"Not a date."

"-with that Alex guy. Just… an experiment."

"Yeah.' I reasoned. "It doesn't have to mean anything. It'd be casual. Totally casual."

"There you go. No reason to feel any guilty about it."

"Yeah." Of course, talking about it was cheap. There still was the question of how I'd react if he really did try to make a play for me. Would I say yes? Bolt? Revert to form and deck him? No way of knowing until it actually happened. If it actually happened. It was entirely possible he had no romantic interest in me remaining at all.

Was that a twinge of regret at the thought?

"This band's pretty good," Phoebe remarked, possibly sensing my conflicted thoughts and seeking to change the subject to keep me from crawling back up my own ass. She's always been really good at knowing when to do that sort of thing. "I'm not really up-to-date on alternative music, but I know what I like."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Kind of a cross between Paramore and Evanesce. That lead singer's got a really smooth voice." For the moment, I decided to lose myself in the music. It was pretty easy. Raid on Bungling Bay hit every one of my sweet spots. Loud, but not cacophonic, with a heavy emphasis on melody, lyrics that were thought-provoking and pulled no punches. I made a mental note to check if there was anything of theirs on Soundify that I could download later.

After some time, their set drew to a close. Brainy was supposed to be next. He wrote a song for you, the annoying part of my brain reminded me. That's not something someone who's "over you" does.

Not for me, for Temper, I reasoned back. It's not an unheard of thing for people to dedicate art to superheroes. There's a ton of merch of me out there. Merch that I don't see a penny from, I groused internally. I wonder if a superhero can sue without revealing my identity.

"Attention," the MC announced after Raid's set had ended. "There will be a fifteen-minute intermission before the next act."

"Well, looks like we've got some time. Wanna hit the hot dog stand before the next set?" I asked Phoebe.

"Well… I normally try to avoid processed meats, but… oh, what the hell." She fell into step alongside me as we approached the vendor. "You know… it's funny. This whole thing started with that Alex guy, but I don't think I've seen him all night."

"Yeah, it is weird… the only reason I even came to this thing was because he invited me, but I've barely given him a thought." I shrugged. "I hope the guy isn't too broken up about me ignoring him all night."

"Hmmm…", mulled Phoebe, her eyes fixing on a point to the left of the stand. "I suspect he'll be just fine."

My eyes shifted over to where Phoebe was focused…. Specifically, on Alex playing tonsil-hockey with the girl running the funnel cake stand.

"…huh." I remarked flatly. "You know, I should probably feel insulted, but… I probably would've had to have had some feelings for the guy in the first place. I can't be cheated on if I was never emotionally engaged in the first place." I turned away. "I don't even feel a need to tell him off. That would require caring."

"That's… quite mature of you." Phoebe commented.

"Ugh… there's that word again."

So, yeah, so ended the great Helga Pataki/Alex Whateverthehellhislastnamewas affair. Not with a bang but with a whatever. The only consequence was that I was off funnel cakes for the foreseeable future.

The two of us got our dogs and took refuge at the nearby picnic tables, to consume them. My mind once again began to drift, mostly to anticipation of Brainy's set. And that was surprising because I freakin' hate that kind of music. Dubstep, electronica, techno… it's all crap as far as I was concerned. But now, I was really looking forward to it.

He's an old friend, I reasoned to myself. Of course I want to hear what he's been up to. It's not a sign of anything deeper.

Right, right.

So why does he keep drifting into my thoughts?

And speaking of unwelcome intrusions, there was Summer approaching us. No doubt she's got some other clumsy scheme to mess with me. It was past time to put an end to this. I got up and approached her.

"Hey," I said. "You win. He's all yours. Of course, you might have to get in line, since it seems he's sampling the funnel cake girl right about now…."

She glared back at me. "Oh, you think that's what this is all about?" she retorted coldly. "You think I care about him? That guy cheated on me all the time. Oh, sure, he's got the whole Zen Nice Guy act down pat these days, but believe me, it doesn't stop him from getting around."

I suspected that she wasn't quite as over him as she acted… I've always been really good at reading body language, and hers practically screamed denial, but whatever she wanted to tell herself was fine. I was out of here tomorrow anyway, so who cared? "So… this is all because I beat you out for that stupid Babewatch cameo six years ago?"

"You're damn right it is. That was my ticket out of this shithole. You know why tourists love Spencer Beach? Because they don't have to live here. They drop in for a couple of days, have their fun, and go back to their lives. They don't have to deal with living in a place that turns into a graveyard two-thirds of the year. That cameo was my ticket out of this dead-end burg, and you and your boyfriend with the freakish head took that way from me. And then you got to move on, while I got to stay here and rot."

Involuntarily, a pang of guilt gnawed at my conscience. Arnold's fault, probably… It was inevitable that at least some of that irritating boundless empathy of his would seep through my carefully-constructed shell of cynicism and force me, involuntarily of course, to see the other side of the story. Damned inconvenient, that. Still… no way I was going to show any weakness to her. "Hey," I protested. "Nobody made you pull that scheme of yours. Playing with Arnold's emotions, manipulating him into winning your contest, breaking his heart when you got what you wanted… that was all you, sister."

"Yeah, wel-" Her response was cut off by her celphone ringing. "Oh… that must be the crew boss calling me," she said nervously. Made sense… she was wearing a crew T-shirt and cap. "Bored of this conversation anyway," she added. "Anyway, I already got what I wanted. I ruined your vacation. Good luck with the new guy," she said with a smirk as she hurried off.

Well, that ended weirdly, I thought to myself as she left. Well, at least she felt she was satisfied in getting whatever revenge she felt she'd earned, which meant I'd never have to deal with her again. That was fine by me.

What was that remark about "the new guy," though? Had she seen me talking to Brainy earlier? Had she picked up some kind of interest on my part?

And if it was so obvious to her… then could I really keep denying that it was obvious to me?

Oh, criminy… Arnold's gone for a month and a half and I'm still an emotional basket case.

My thoughts were interrupted by the squeal of a microphone. Speak of the devil… it was finally time for Brainy's set. Good, it felt like it had been forever. This was the longest fifteen-minute intermission ever.

"Attention," the MC announced. "We're sorry, but there will be a slight delay before the next act, as we are unable to locate DJ Grey Matter. We have been attempting to contact him, but he isn't answering his cell or texts. I'm pretty sure this is all just a misunderstanding, but until we can get in touch with him, please bear with us."

"That's odd," commented Phoebe, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah…" I agreed. "He was really all fired up for this show when I talked to him before. I really doubt this is just a case of flaking."

"Do you think something happened to him, then?" she asked.

"I don't think something happened," I replied. "I'm sure something did. C'mon, Pheebs… it's brainstorming time."

"Cogitating!" she replied chipperly.

As the two of us left to figure out the next step, one thing kept nagging me… that smirk on Summer's face as she remarked on my "new guy."

Now that I thought about it, it was strangely anticlimactic that she would just give up like that, claiming that she'd gotten what she wanted. And that she had "ruined my vacation," when actually it had been going pretty well.

Odds were, her strange behavior and Brainy's disappearance were completely unrelated, and this was all a huge coincidence, but… call it a hunch, call it alien hybrid's intuition, whatever… something was telling me that she was the key to all of this.

A.N.: Well, it's all about to come to a head! The next chapter should end this arc, and hopefully it won't take me quite as long to write it. Once again, sorry for the delay, and thank you for your patience.

Jose: Looks like Summer's stepped up her "prank" game (actually, this is more like a serious felony. Hmm, maybe she does grow up to be the Bride from And You May Ask Yourself). And it's actually an Irken dialect for "He Who Eviscerates You with His Bare Hands and Delights in the Experience". Yep, he's a parody of a certain well-known comic character.

Veganmama: Well, if you've read my other stories, you know they do eventually end up together, but the course of true love doesn't always run in a straight line.

HumanDictionary: Helga's got a bit of a dark sense of humor.

Next: The end of the beach storyline, finally!