Ever Onwards - Writing.Com

Science Fiction Newsletter - Feb 2012
What is Real? Virtual and Simulated Reality

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[Introduction]
When high school ended they were still alone. even if they were in a relationship they were empty feelings, a pointless life. Then they went to college and they were determined to make it change. They want to have friends that liked them, they want happiness, safety and love.

This campfire is about how they make friends, how they're lives change and about love, betrayal and hope.

RULES:

Each person that joins will need to write their own character bio in their first go.

There can be up to 12 guys and 12 girls but hopefully not a too uneven number of either is fine really...

Relationships can form between any sex but keep it within the rating.

Please don't make beautiful, perfect, rocket scientists for characters. Everyone has there faults and weaknesses.

Questions can be answered in the Group:

ID: 1270725 (Rated: 13+)
Ever Onwards Group

A place for the writers in the campfire Ever Onwards to come together and discuss...
by Matt le Couteau

HAVE FUN! That's the most important thing!

Name: Dylan Watts
Age: 19
Birthday: September 4th
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bi

Personality: Dylan likes to be different. He's temperamental, loves a laugh but then might fall into a hole of sullen, philosophical depression. Mostly he's a good listener and knows how to help people but he's very closed off. Feircly loyal to his friends but he's not exactly the sort of guy you just approach and he can be a complete dick if he does not like you. Not antisocial around people he's close with, slightly over protective. Loud, llikes attention, he likes to be different. Lives for his music and his guitar.

Appearence: He's a typical punk rocker sorta guy, he wears dark jeans, multiple belts, either band logo tshirts or dark coloured shirts but he loves to look good. He wont wear what makes him look formless as he likes to show off. He often wears a black jacket. His hair is naturally blond but right now he's dyed black with electric blue streaks. Last week it was blond with red tips and he might revert to that soon. He has several tattoos, a tattoo of a small scorpian at the small of his back and a raven, wings flared out across his shoulder blades. Eyeliner doned, peicings - five in his left ear, three in his right, one through his eyebrow. He's naturally quite pale and his skin is flawless though most people dont look at him long enough to notice.

Family: He's lived on his own since he w as 17 because he got kicked out of his home for being caught with another guy. Still sees his younger sister from time to time.

Name: Isaac Farmer
Age: 21
Birthday: May 23
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Straight

Personality: Laid-back, but still caring and protective of those close to him. He only loses his temper in dire situations.

Appearance: Isaac is 5' 11" with dark brown, spiked hair, a small goatee, and blue-gray eyes. Alternates his clothes between white, black, red, and blue, almost the only color clothes he has.

Family: Left his family to go off to college, currently enrolled in one of the local universities, where he lives in a dorm with two roommates, a friend of his and his friends girlfriend.

Name: Ella Blaine
Age: 19
Birthday: 14th August
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Straight (although when she's drunk or high she loses herself)

Personality: Ella is a party girl gone wild. She drinks and does drugs and often wakes up not able to fully remember the night before in a bed she doesn't recognise. She is in the 'in crowd'and the 'popular' boys are interested in her but she finds herself unable to take pleasure from this fact. She just wants to party her life away but doesn't seem to be getting the happiness out of it that she used to so she is becoming more and more reckless with her own safety, she has been to hospital to have her stomach pumped at least 4 times and has been arrested for drug use once, yet she still won't stop. She is dangerously close to loosing it all together but still goes out every night clubbing then turns up to lectures hours late. Her school life isn't important to her; she's studying medcine which she hates.

Appearance: Ella is thin, well endowed and tall; about 5'10" with straight red (not ginger)hair that is just longer than shoulder length and usually she wears bright beads in it. Her eyes are dark liquid brown and she wears a lot of make-up. She wears jeans or short skirts with heels most of the time and especially loves her black boots. Her ears are pierced twice on one side, once on the other and her nose and belly button are pierced. She has a tattoo of a butterfly on the right side of her lower back. Ella loves her jewelry, often wearing lots of bangles or large dangly earings.

Family/History: Ella has rich parents who don't really care about her. They sent her off to the good schools and colleges and she got kicked out of half of them but they didn't really even register. Ella and her brother Logan are pretty much left to their own devices. The two are very close and Logan is the only one who can really control her. He's four years older than her and is working as an intern at a major law firm.

I sighed as I wandered through the empty house that I was abandoning as my home. It wasn't a comforting thought, but I'd needed to get out of here for so long... I turned and walked out of my now barren room, the last small box of personal belongings held tightly to my chest. Yes, I was finally leaving. I would miss this place, but I'd certainly get over it. I made it out to the battered ford that was now cramped with a selection of my junk and carelessly tossed the box in. A couple of neighbours watched me warily, as if they expected me to start yelling my head off.

I wasn't so surprised. I'd been pretty moody over the week, after all. You see, my father had 'coincidentally' forgotten to tell me that he was taking the rest of my family away from the old house where they'd always lived, moving away for good it seemed as he followed his job... Yeah we werent on speaking terms but the cold letter that had come in the mail had made my life shatter for the second time since I'd been kicked out. Now I'd never see my sister again... Not for a long time at least... Not that we saw each other much anyway..

I sighed again, knowing that my own move from this place to my new one about eight miles away would be better for me but not wanting to really be that close to college. Inevitably it would be easier... My gaze quickly swept over the building saw the faces peering down at me. I didn't offer any kind of smile. Why should I? I had no reason to be happy for them. I sat down on the bonnet of my car, slipping one hand into my pocket, searching for my lucky strikes and sighing when I discovered the empty pocket.

Today would be moving in day and I had to start soon if I was ever going to be finished by tomorrow which would be absolutely necerssary. It was amazing how everything had fitted into my car, despite the face that the driver's seat was the only one that wasnt cramped up with junk.

With a last empty glance up at the high rise I finally sat myself down in the car, turned on the radio so it was loud enough to drown out the engine that buzzed merrily beneath my hands and then I was off. Praying that life was going to get easier with this... A fresh start maybe? I caught sight of the peircing through my eyebrow. Maybe not... Clean slates can't be made with dirty water.

Name: Rory Constant
Age: 19
Birthday: 5th May
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bi-curious.(straight, but curious)

Personality: Rory is fairly quiet around some people, but crazy around strangers and close friends. She is extremely clever, but also very arty, and she hates all her academic courses.
People have high expectations of her, and always make comments that get to her like- You're wasting your brains. All she wants to do is paint, most of the time, and so this authoritarian attitude really gets to her, and she acts out. She has suffered from two mental breakdowns, and has been hospitalised for stress-related injuries.
A people pleaser, she often finds herself bending over backwards for people she doens't even like, because she is paranoid that she will be left, alone, with no friends. She also had a weak atteneion span, and gets distracted from her work too easily.

Appearence: Rory is five ft ten, with willowy limbs and barely-there curves. Her hair is naturally long and mousy, but last season, her agent cut it all off into a pixie crop and bleached it platinum blonde. It's taken her a while to get used to. She has a tattoo of a phoenix just above her right ankle, on the inside of her leg.
Her eyes are a dark hazel, and generally vary between a dark blue-green, and a soft brown. The jawline of her face is defined, but features are fairly angular, but they are smooth, not bird like, and her lips are bow shaped. her nose is fairly straight.
She generally wears high fashion, kooky clothes, stolen or bought from the shows, with value village finds. This makes her look somewhat like a dirty hipster.

Family/history: At the age of fifteen Rory was scouted by a modelling agent. She is now considered to be the epitome of the waif generation, and is popular by any standards, and the wear and tear shows on her face.
Often the pressures in the industry pile up on her so much that she breaks down. She is hounded by perverts, and yet has never had any vague form of a real relationship since before she entered the industry. This leads her to trail round new york's Clubs and shows, drinking herself into oblivion.
She was home schooled from the age of sixteen, and is originaly from england, moving over to the states for college and shows. Her cousin is an american by the name of Dylan watts, and she frequently telephones him from her lonely loft in new york, by the university. He is the only family she has left, the rest living in england.

I walked through the school, determined to just be invisible, which was extremely hard for me to do. I was never known as a lady killer, but since graduating high school, I've had numerous girls, and guys, ask me out. The guys asking was kinda creepy, but people have their own way of life.

Sure enough, there was no way I was going to make it outta this day without the constant badgering of a date. For once, I would like to ask a girl out. But, for some odd reason, they always beat me to the punch and I quickly lost interest. Easy and forward girls are a major turn-off.

After being barraged by half a dozen students wanting a date, I managed to sneak into one of the less used hallways, where I could think. It was there I met Ella. Rumor has it she's somewhat of a floosy, but I can tell from the expression on her face that she doesn't get any real pleasure from that kinda life.

I stopped to say hi, giving my friendly smile, and she gave me a shy one back, unusual for Ella. Oh, well, maybe she really is trying to change. She seemed like she just had another rough night, and needed some cheering up.

"Hey, Ella, you wanna get a mocha?"

Name: Elizabeth Slone
Age: 18
Birthday: Oct. 20th
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Straight

Personality: Timid, but not overly shy. She has a soft-spoken air about her that makes her easy to talk to. Doesn't talk much her self, mostly listens. Although she can be quite she's slightly overprotective of those she's closed to. Her one weakness is drinking, she simply can't resist if she's with friends or at a party.(even though she's underage)

Apperance: a little bit on the shorter side only 5'5 but has soft curves. She has shoulder length dark brown hair that is layered and wavy. Her eyes are a deep, dark brown and has a natural pale complexion. Wears mostly neutral colors but loves headbands. She has only in almost every color and style you could think of.

Family/History: Grew up in a foster home until just recentley.She currently boards at one of her local universities. Was arrested once of twice for drinking underage. Was in rehab for like a week to try and get rid of her 'problem' as her foster parents called it. It didn't work. Trying to not drink as much and working on a career in pyschology.

(Sorry guys I'm swamped with work so I haven't time to add in this round, I promise I'll make time next round though!) - So Matt has come to the rescue to save the ropey addition.

***

I was in need of a mocha or at least something sweet and full of caffeine. My head was pounding, the blood echoing through the vessels sqeezing my skull and I wanted nothing more than to go back to bed. Sure I was skipping my medics lecture but... right now I couldn't bring myself to care. I had plans for tonight, and was prepared with my reknown hipflask of vodka in my right hand pocket.

With a sighed I smiled again at Isaac. I didn't speak to him that often and more often than not he was the one to approach me which is fine, it's kind of sweet the way he sets time aside for me, despite my lack of enthusiasm for anything during the daylight hours.

"That would be a godsend," I finally managed to say and pulled myself to my feet, pausing, grimacing as I felt the blood rush to my head and it pulsated painfully. God how much had I drunk last night? I didn't want to remember... Absinth was deadly. No wonder some places weren't allowed to sell it. The green fairy never seemed to leave you alone. Isaac sent me a pitying grin, or was it understanding? I couldn't tell but I wanted it to be the latter.

"Starbucks or L'Ouragan?"

"L'Ouragan." I replied instantly, only Amelie could make the perfect brew, the little french woman, although not having a huge cafe, was amazing with coffee, so much better than the universal mistake that was Starbucks.

"Right," He seemed pleased by my choice and we headed out, "L'Ouragan, mocha and I think you need an extra shot of expresso."

I merely nodded. Words really, really hurt my head.

I guess it was no surprise when I heard a knock at the door and found my cousin sitting on my mat, looking exactly like the fed up little girl she had been when we'd lived in the UK. I smiled, letting her in. She was earlier than I had expected but the coffee was on and she slumped into my faded armchair with a wry grin,

"You'd never guess this room was part of New York," she said, looking around.

She was right, of course. The whole place looked like it had been taken straight out of a British household, the sofa and wooden tables included. For the design of the flat, it seemed almost ironic how old-school the place seemed. I laughed a little and poured out two mugs of the liquid perfection that was pure, ground coffee from the cafetiere.

"Yeah, I guess. Something die hard, y'know?"

"Too true, you remember my place?" She grinned and I couldn't help but chuckle this time.

"Yeah, of course. How could I forget your giant painting of the aberdeen angus across your wall?"

With a wide smile that lit up her eyes she took a long sip of her coffee and I couldn't help but feel proud as her eyes closed in contentment. I had always prided myself on my coffee, having learnt from the best, the one and only Amelie.

"Oh... yeah... We'd better get going right?" I glanced at my watch a little while later. We were mid-way through an episode of her favourite anime and she made a disgruntled 'shmeh' at me as I switched off the television.

"Come on, we've both got classes to get to."

"I know, I know." She grumbled, holding out her hands for me to lit her to her feet. I obliged, knowing otherwise we weren't ever going to leave the living area.

Studying both art and english we had pretty much the same timetable only she took one extra art class and I had a couple more english lectures during the week. I yawned, forcing her out the door and towards the street. It was a relief to see her so soon after moving but I knew that if today was anything to go by, she'd soon end up living infront of my television.

"Rorrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyy...." I whined as she stopped midway down the stairs to tie up her shoes again.

"Dyyyyyylllaaaaaaaannnnn..." She whined right back as I poked her then she span around and looked at me straight in the eye, "What's your love life doing?"

I raised an eyebrow. What the hell? Where did that come from? "I'm single..."

"Pretend that you're my boyfriend just for today?" Her eyes turned puppyish. How dare she use that face on me!

"Why?"

"Just... pretend?"

I couldn't say no. Those stupid eyes of hers... I grimaced and nodded as she lept for joy and continuing down the stairs and out onto the street.

What had I just got myself into? I wasn't sure. But I knew that I was about to find out.

Adrenalin coursed through my veins in ice cold tendrils. It was unsettling, the weight of the energy rocking back and forth through my body as though I was a battered raft, palpitating on the ocean that swept majestically under the Verrazano Bridge. My eyes wandered dizzily as i felt the blood rush to my head.

"You look really, really odd." Dylan said carefully. "Are you sure you're up to this lecture?"

"I'm not going to the lecture." I mumbled into my faded blue spandex dress as I groped into an implausibly large handbag for a battered box of Cigarettes. The box was crumpled and worn, the faded blue diagonals of the 'Parliament' sign beginning to leak into each other. With a quick shake I established that there were still death sticks lurking in the depths of the great white leather monster. I glared sullenly at the dirty smears of oil paints that clung to my brown leather jacket, as my fingers finally clenched around a patent pink card case. "and neither are you. We're going to visit this chap."

I brandished a card in his face as though i were showing him a prised catch. The words on the card faced me, but they danced around the page, with no focus. Dylan grabbed the card and turned it around. Recognition flashed through his cerulean blue eyes.

"This guy is a really famous photographer..you have work? If so i'm not bloody coming."

"That...guy" I spat the last word out, poisonous thoughts entering my head at the thought of working with him, "That guy is stalking me. And we're going to confront him."

Dylan's face looked visibly agitated. He realized that confronting one of the most powerful players in the industry would have serous consequences on her fluctuating income and, worse, on her visa. He also knew that his beloved cousin had a history of mental lapses, and now looked visibly shaken. My eyes darted wildly around the city.

"I think we should go to the lecture. Just avoid the guy, or leave an anonymous tip off. I want you here in New York, where I can keep an eye on you."

Dark thoughts bolted through my mind like quick silver, volatile and bitter. "Are you suggesting that I'm going to have another..you know what. Because if you are, I can leave this street right now and lose myself in the biggest density of population this side of Shanghai."

"No, I'm suggesting that this man lives in Paris."

"Not today. It's a vogue editorial shoot next week with the Lilies," I flexed my hand at the mention of other models, fidgeting whilst i ommited the fact that I was to be in the shoot to, dressed to the nines in Edwardian wedding dresses and parasols. But i do have to go to lectures. I have Italian in ten minutes."

"You don't do Italian, we have American Lit next." Cool logic echoed from Dylan's mouth, as i looked into his angular face. His eyeliner was uneven and smudged, and the flawless complexion reminded me of a porcelain doll. The roof of my mouth was arid and my tongue kept grating against it. My lips puckered. I could feel my body beginning to slow down to a normal rate with the sensibleness of his American drawl. Melodies of welsh and english created a soothing discord with the long, easy tones. Dylan was right, not thinking about things often made it better. Which was apparently why she had still not told him my news.

"I don't do American Lit anymore. I dropped all my literature classes and took up Italian and French. And Russian. I still do writing, prose and um...that other one." My heart began to murmur as I waited for his reaction.

Dylan looked somewhat shocked, hurt dancing visibly across his face before relief made his translucent skin crease into an easy smile of slight puzzlement. I hated the red blooded American Males on the lit staff, clashed with their views on good literature and frequently missed their classes. The majority of the language lecturers were from their own countries and he clearly recognized that I would feel safer. Linguistic skills ran through me from generations of Constants that couldn't think of a serious subject to study and instead had traveled the world. Confusion still contorted over his face, "But you're semi-fluent in French and Ita..."

"I know."

"so the teacher's...."

"love me. Are normal. Couldn't tell an English model from a twig."

We began to amble slowly down the street, navigating past the tourists and street artists with an elegance that only the beautiful and the young of such a city could muster. The campus was an easy fifteen minutes walk from here. An unspoken accord had settled between us and melded into our pale skins like a glamour. "You're going to be late you know."

"This is exactly why we are heading to Amelia's, so I can bribe my lovely, big Italian teacher with sticky French confections. I don't doubt that you have too much blood in your caffeine system anyway. I believe you get....shakes?" My eyes drifted to his hands as though they were checking them of their own accord. He carried a white MacBook in one hand and a pad of doodles in the other. My face broke into a smile. My beloved shiny laptop, also a MacBook, but the lightweight aluminum Pro, was jostling out of my handbag with my punk rock troll, who's blue mohican was now sandwiched between the keyboard and the screen. A paint brush stuck out of my pixie crop behind one ear. If we hadn't already been related, we should have been.

Ella and I walked down the corner to the quant coffee shop. She looked like she had a serious hangover. And she probably did. She was a party animal, and she was almost always drunk. Or in the middle of a hangover.

We ordered our drinks and I paid Amelie, after Ella had tried to convince me that she could pay for herself. I insisted, and she was too hungover to really continue with an argument. We sat down and added some nuts to my mocha. She smiled when she saw me do that.

"Do you always do that?"

"Most of the time. Adds a little more flavor, not that it needs it, I just prefer to have it in there, kinda like with my ice cream."

She giggled, and I smiled. She must be starting to feel better. Amelie's mochas really helped with hangover's.

Elizabeth was sitting at one of the tables at L'Ouragan, drinking a mocha and just watching people. That was mostly all she did, watch people, try to figure out what they were thinking. Unless of course she was with her friends, but that's a different story.

There was an old man sitting in the corner, witha far off expression; he was probably thinking about his past. Toward the middle of the cafe there were these two college age looking kids talking. The girl looked like she had a serious hangover though. Two more people walked into the cafe, one was carrying a notebook and something else, and the other one a puse.

Elizabeth had to admit, this place was pretty popular. It was always packed with people, and their mochas weren't half bad either.
It was one of her favorite places to think so why not, she had nothing better to do.

Name: Melanie Crevas (Mel)
Gender: Female
Age: 21
Birthday: 7th June

Appearance: Has long, sleek, dark brown hair that she usually keeps wrapped up in a bun, quite tall at 5'9 and 145lbs. Has those long legs, good looks and basically beautiful all round appearance. Stunning face proportions - high cheek bones, full lips and soft brown eyes. With a typical model's slenderness, she hates her barely B cup cleavage, and wishes for a bigger bum. Usually seen sporting slim fit jeans and a string top, with a zip up hoody. She doesn't like to wear makeup, unless for work.

Personality: Although a bit shy at first, Mel craves social contact. She loves nothing more than a low key night at the local bar with a group of mates, or a day out at the park. Naturally sporty, she loves basketball, but no longer plays very often. A romantic, she's alwyas on the look out for her Mr. Right.

Family/History: Mel decided to enter for college later than most people - and she's studying Psychology because she wants to get away from her career. She's a professional model - almost making it to super model life, but she wants something more. She doesn't like the way everyone thinks she's that another pretty airhead. She's a friendly character, and seems to fit in with everyone, once they've got past their own shyness towards someone they always see in the magazines. She just wants to be thought of as 'normal'. She has a brother, Alan, who is married with 2 kids, and very healthy parents who are currently climbing rocks somewhere in the desert.

My cousin calls the way I sit the 'emo-don't-look-at-me' pose. Shoulders slumping and face tilted so it's slightly obscured. She used to wonder where I developed such an insecure posture. I dont have to guess. I'm fairly certain it's the remnants of being kicked out of my house, being dumped by my boyfriend and generally having little to no support during a time when I needed it most.

The way she sat in her comfy, cafe-lounge chair was completely different. Her back straight and face turned so that the sun fell on it, striking her already defined bone structure. She'd be a perfect person to draw... I know that... I think she knows that as she raises her eyebrow at me. She's noticed my fingers twitching towards my bag.

"You going to doodle something daft or not?" She inquires finally. I wander if she's forgotten why we're here seeing as she certainly doesnt seem to be buying 'sticky confectionaries' at the moment.

"Nah. Some other time." I could feel my heart sinking but knew it would be better that we do what we need to do and get to class. I needed to go to that lesson especially...

"Who's caught your eye?" She smirked at me, the knowing glimmer, that had taken over from the wild look she'd had before, shining in her eyes.

"Just someone. I'll tell you about it all later ok? I just kinda need to get going."

"Oh yeah! Bribery!" She leapt up spinning away over the shop like a pixie would flicker through the trees.

I rested my weight onto my right foot, encased in black patent dominatrix platforms that I'd nicked from a recent show. They were entirely inappropriate, which is why I loved them. My feet emitted a dull ache but it was barely noticeable above the deafening pulse that radiated throughout my body. My skin prickled at the sensation, and I tensed my arms. As I did this, three crisp dollar bills, which were clenched in my fists like a gambling bet, grated against the calloused skin of my palm. I'd forgotten to take my pills in the morning, although part of me thought that I'd done it on purpose. Drugged up, I was a different person, and once in a while it felt great to be alive.

My eyes darted around the room as I waited for the doughnuts to arrive. The place was a bohemian magnet, filled with hipsters talking about post modernism in nonsensical abbreviations and Nike dunks, tweens dressed in head to toe urban outfitters desperately trying to attract attention from the hipsters, and then the misfits who just didn't give a fuck. It was in this corner that I felt my pupils land on a familiar face. Flame red hair had been pulled back into a disheveled heap on the crown of her head and she still wore the makeup from the last party we had crashed together, three weeks ago. Her eyes, normally a deep liquid brown, were glazed over with pain and she clutched a mocha in her pale hands. I looked sadly at Ella as I took in her posture, which was contorted into what appeared to be a ball.

It was true that fucked up people often stuck together. Ella and I often drunk away our troubles, although we did not see each other much outside of the club circuit. There was a silent understanding between us that we never discussed our issues with anyone other than each other, because at least we knew that the other would be too drunk to remember, and even our friends moved in different circles. In fact, my demand from Dylan this morning had been a rare occurence. Had I been able to convince the photographer that I was a lesbian, Dylan probably would not have known at all. He cared too much, that was his problem. He also had his own shit to worry about without mine on top of that. Like his little sister.

The only issue with my normal plans was that the photographer would have been so cock sure that he would have attempted to 'convert' me anyway. Bastard.

"Oy! Ella!" I yelled across the cafe as the till pinged into place and I automatically handed the notes to Amelie's assistant, a bubbly girl named Jennifer that liked to talk, alot. Suddenly I glanced across at my hand, bemused that it's reactions were so mechanical. Royal blue nail varnish glinted up at me, although my fingers seemed to absorb all the light in the room. They were blue black with the stains of oil pastels and God knows what. "I don't feel like going out tonight, wanna come to Coney island with me at 8? Bring... your friend. We'll take the subway!"

She looked up, recognising my voice but finding it difficult to place me when in the daylight hours. She looked positively shattered. Her nose rings glinted in the light that was flooding through the window in golden shafts. With her hair and clothes she managed to look on fire, and yet her eyes were colder than the darkest depths of space. She caught my eye, as if to say that she had a problem she needed to get off her chest, and gave a single nod. The boy she was with turned around and smiled as if approving of my slow tempo, the grin eaching his grey eyes. That was unusual, no one in New York was ever happy for long.

'Oh my' Elizabeth thought as she looked down at her watch. She was late for her job at a restaurant down the street.

As she walked along the crowed block that lead up to Riverbottom (the place she worked) she thought of all she'd seen in the cafe.

'Didn't that girl say she was going to cooney island tonight?' Elizabeth thought as she walked. 'That's where I'm going when I get off work. Funny how things work out, isn't it?

Mel: "I've told you, I'm not taking the job." I said forcefully into my mobile. I missed the next sentence as a car drove past. "What? No, because I'm studying now. I want to study, here, and THERE is in London. I can't miss so much on teh first semester."

More garbled protests from my agent, and I moved the phone away from my ear so that I could concentrate on crossing the road.

"...keep up like this I won't be able to get you any jobs, Melanie. Get your tiny butt over there."

"No can do, mi amigo," I told him cheerfully. "I'll call you next week. Bye now!"

I have to tell you, it feels good not to work. I do runway, that sort of thing. Much easier, no-one knows you. 'Not like Rory,' I thought, just as I ran into her.

Bodily.

"Oh excuse me!" I started, before realising who it was. "Rory Constant?"

I've worked with her once on a shoot... but of course there was no recognition in her eyes as she looked at me.

"Look, you weirdo, if I get one more stalker I swear I will hunt each of you down and murder you myself. Get out of my face."

she turned to storm out of my path, but I grabbed her arm. She swiftly turned back and landed a very strong karate chop to my left arm, to which I let go.

"I'm not a stalker! I worked with you once..." I straightened up and took advantage of her suspicious silence. "My name is Mel Crevas. I don't expect you to remember me... but I just wanted you to know I'm not stalking you."

"Right," she said, looking confused. "Er... thanks."

I smiled and headed off... it's always weird when yuou bump into another model, it's so competetive out there! But this isn't what life is about.

I'm going to study! I'm going to get a degree!

And with a very big smile, I was on my way.

"Do you want to participate Mr Watts?" The voice of the teacher boomed upwars at him. Usually he had a lot to say in class discussion, he liked these lectures and when the floor was open to debate he realy appreciated the chance.

Today he looked up and felt other people looking at him and wanted to hide, "No sir, the points I can think of... have been covered."

Normally he would have tried biting the bullet and making something up but... Not today. He wasn't up for the challenge. He couldn't concentrate. He couldn't think. He wanted Rory back in class with him. He didn't like be the only one... Like this. He had loved having his cousin with him... At least she'd be happier doing her languages. Words, though part of her life, were not part of her personality. Art, language, beauty; they were there. Pressure to lose something else she loved might really hurt her.

HE scowled into his hands and stared in surprise at the blank page in front of him. He knew there was going to be an assignment on this module but he couldn't bring himself to care. He looked up at his teacher ho was now talking again and caught his eye. It wasn't his fault... That he was the way he was... Why couldn't he rely on just himself? He stared harder into the dark blue of the man's eyes and saw a sparkle there that he sometimes thought only he could see and knew... that was why...

"....E' perchè la gente non sa scrivere, perchè i giornalisti non sanno l'italiano o perchè ormai l'italiano sta divetando una lingua morta el'inglese è il futuro per tutti? A me non piace poi così tanto. E spero lei mi possa illuminare su questa questione." I felt the words roll of my tongue, in a peculiar way that I could not make English, my own native language, do. People are often mistaken in that they assume that Italians speak fast, when in fact, it is that they speak so slowly and fluidly that the words roll into each other giving them a wonderful lilt. When speaking in english, my ideas come out so quickly that I speak in a jumble of words, my brain constantly firing off ideas until no one, not even Dylan, can keep up with me. Italian, on the other hand, gave me time to rearrange my thoughts.

Blinking in the harsh lighting, I tucked a strand of white blonde hair behind my ear, and wished longingly for my long mousy locks. Since leaving the cafe I had donned a pair of white calf skin opera gloves, to hide the grazing on my hand from where I'd fallen earlier. Eyes bored into me as though they were searching for someone else, as though I were, in fact, a mask and standing behind me was a little green man in a coat. I looked up at the auditorium where the twenty odd people in my Italian media class sat, waiting for me to leave the podium. They were dispersed throughout the fairly large room sparsely, little knots of people in a variety of colours. At the back sat the three Casanovas of the language block, but it was not them who caught my attention.

Sidling into the auditorium, a few minutes late, was the girl who had crashed into me a few minutes earlier and whom I had....karate chopped. Fucking medication. Why did I always forget my medication? For a second, my mind drifted off to a peculiar excuse Ella had once made for me involving the percentage of calories in Baileys, but then I felt myself snap back to reality. Mel Crevas. That was her name.

Her nose was straight and long, and her eyebrows dark and definite as they arched above her big brown eyes, framing her face. It struck Rory instantaneously that the girl was more of an Artist's muse, rather than a model. This did not reflect on the girl's beauty, but the striking eyes would distract from any clothes. She knew instantaneously that Dylan would itch to draw the girl, as one might know that a piece of clothing was perfect for a friend. Ambers, ochres and peaches shon through her warmer skin tone, but I could detect a faint blue in the shadows of her chin, reflecting off her ultramarine hoodie.

With a second glance, I walked up the steps to my seat, at the other end of the same row. She shot me a rather puzzled look. From the end of the row, I studied her textbooks as I listened to a rather insane Texan called George bumble half heartedly trough his essay on politics in the Italian media. The Idiot had picket a difficult topic, whereas I had chosen to ask why Italian wasn't being used in major publications like Vogue Italia, giving me an excuse to waffle on about the beauty of the language, and therefore to win the heart of my rather jovial grey haired Signora. 'The advanced psychology of the human need for institutions', 'Criminal Psychology', 'The principles of psychology'. With a safe bet, I could tell that she was a psych major.

The wooden benches of the old auditorium were calloused, and carved. I had sat reasonably high up in the amphitheater, and from here could see the words, "Hello Mrs Wank-off" carved into the low, paneled ceiling with a pen knife. No doubt addressed to the dean of languages, a simpering idiot of a woman who had the tendency to patronize people of greater intelligence than her, which was anyone ranging from freshmen to the flamboyant Colonel, who had fought for Mussolini in the first world war and yet still managed to infiltrate the teaching staff of the university.

Even George, droning away at the front in an accent that sounded almost Portuguese, was better at languages than her. Poor guy, I really did like him, if only because his southern lilt calms me down to the point where I almost fall off the bench in a stupor. This therefore means that I can function without medication on days we have classes together, without the loss of any limbs or sanity. It's funny how all of the senses can be tricked by one musical voice, when they normally need 50ccs of medication to muffle them to a normal level.

I didn't mind leaving the coffee shop at that moment. After all, I had been through with my mocha for a few minutes, and Ella had just finished hers. She chided me about drinking so fast when Rory walked up.

We left the coffee shop and headed towards the subway. I hated the subway, but it beat the hell out of walking. And right now it wouldn't be so busy. It would be close to time for Italian class when we arrived back at campus.

Personally, I prefered Greek.

Name: Loki Stevens
Age: 18
Birthday: March 30th
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bi

Personality: Loki is a bright eyed adventurer who likes to learn about things the best way he knows how, by talking to people. He tends to have a short attention span unless he’s very into the conversation at hand. He notices strange things around him in explicit detail, and then can move onto something new in a flash of a second. He never sits still for long, and this was a fact that disturbed his teachers to no end. He has two simultaneous loves, food (especially sweet things like pie) and his drums. He’s been playing drums since he was about 2 and banging on kitchen pots. It’s a toss up on which is more important to him, never give him the ultimatum: your drums or your pie, you’d short circuit his mind. He tends to have this air of selfishness about himself, because he’ll delve deep into your mind, but not leave you with much information about him. This doesn’t mean he won’t tell you, but it does mean you’ll have to really enforce your questions on him, because he’ll be too interested in finding out about you than talking about himself. In the middle of his High School years he was transferred to a school where he met someone who he could talk with for hours, even though they never said much by way of quantity of words. He ended up in a band with him and when they went to college, they found out they were going to the same place, so they decided to room together. The only possession he has that is important to him is his drums. He dresses in whatever comes his way, he never had much by way of clothes, so he tends to buy at thrift stores when he has money, just so he can get clothes and then go out for food afterwards. He really loves food. He eats all the time, but never seems to get fat, he moves around too much for that. Oh, and he likes to eat. He went to college because he could learn more about music there, and everyone seemed to think it was a good idea.

Appearance: Loki is obsessed with food, and is most often seen with some in his hands. This could be a sandwich, a bag of chips or a drink. Because he is so active, it doesn’t seem to affect his weight. He is tall, broad shouldered, and looks strong to most people who glance at him. He has deep blue eyes and black hair that seems to have a tint of blue to some of the strands. His face looks soft, smooth lines and an easy type of grace that makes a person feel rather relaxed when looking at him. He also seems to have the ability to look both old and wise, and young and innocent, depending on what he’s saying at that given moment. He takes care of his body the best he knows how, which usually means eating food and bathing regularly.

Family: Loki was seen as an unsuitable child from day one, and was given up to an adoption agency within his first year. He never knew his parents, and was adopted, then returned, six times throughout his life. His last parents kept him as they got him just before he was an adult, and they don’t really pay much attention to him overall. They gave him an allowance, and let him run around and do whatever he wanted. It’s because of this that he doesn’t really think much of parents, and he doesn’t trust people very easily. He learned to cope with the loneliness by becoming active and talking to people about themselves. He seems to have no real knowledge of how to deal with other people, but he does so by talking to them. He has no siblings, that he knows, and he wouldn’t really want to know about it if he did. He doesn’t get close to very many people, even though he is often surrounded by people he calls friends. He gets along with almost every type of person there is.

Name: Kanogisdi Brown
Age: 18
Birthday: February 6th
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Gay

Personality: Kanogisdi shortened his name to Kano early in life and that is the name his
few friends know him by. He is quiet and serious, having never learned to be social.
Playing instruments and writing songs are his favorite endeavors. Whenever he's alone he
is doing one or the other. When he speaks he tends to say exactly what comes to his mind.
A habit he's had reason to regret. Many people in his high school thought he was stuck
up because he hardly talked to anyone, but it's more a matter of being uncertain what to
say. He plays flute, wooden flute, penny whistle, clarinet, harp, lap harp, hammer
dulcimer, dulcimer, piano and synthesizer proficiently. He's been in two bands, one in
junior high which never performed and one in high school. His high school band split
when he and the drummer moved to college. They've decided to room together in the dorms.
His major in college is music performance.

Appearence: Kano doesn't pay a whole lot of attention to what he wears, and it shows.
Most of his clothes were gifts from family members so he doesn't have a style. He wears
a mish-mash of whatever falls into his hands and is right for the temperature, if he
remembers to consider that the temperature outside is different from the one inside.
He's 5'7" with long black hair and always tan skin. He tends to wear his hair tied back,
occasionally adding small braids and beads to it, but only when he's thinking of his
mother.

Family: Named by his Cherokee mother who died when he was five, Kano was raised by his
father. Raised is used loosely in this case since his father was always working. Kano
spent many evenings as the last child at a child care facility waiting for his father to
show up so the center could close. When he was eight he and his father agreed he was old
enough to stay home alone. This is what gave him the time to learn to play so many
instruments, along with the fact that he rarely bothered with homework outside of
school.

Name: Lee Izumi
Age: 17
Birthday: 5th November
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bi

Personality: Vibrant, positive and excitable. He's always been a fairly exuberant guy except for the odd days of lamentation when he finds himself stuck on what he calls 'the shelf'. He's not a particularly worldly guy, knowing little about the rest of what's going on and he has been called naive because of this. Always trying to see the best in people he should find it easy to make friends but for some reason he always attracts the wrong people and ends up back on the 'shelf'. However Lee is incredibly smart, having finished his secondary education in England when he was 16 with top grades in Japanese, English, Italian and History.

Appearence: Lee has an oriental aspect to him, having inherited his father's, a japanese buisness man, eyes and hair. However, that hair is now tinted with bright red and is styled in different ways everyday. He has a small star tattoo on his neck which he can't remember getting. He loves unusual clothes, especially victoriana and has developed a style of his own by making his own clothes through combining his japanese history with his new victoriana range.

Family: Lee is part Japanese from his father's side and he spent the first ten years of his life being homeschooled because his father's job took them all over the world. From this he saw many different cultures and learnt to respect many different sorts of people. However his mother was an American born woman who never felt accepted by her husband's family. Her blond hair and blue eyes were always commented upon and when Lee too inherited her blue eyes his grandfather, his father's father, stopped talking to her. This drove her to suicide when he was ten. He tends to keep this quiet especially seeing as his father is now remarried with two more sons which are actually accepted by his grandparents.

"Mr Watts," That voice piped up from the front of the hall, "Stay behind."

I heard the murmur of allusion from behind me. Most of our group knew... How could they not? How many of them had been subjected to that same voice and felt that same confusion between trepidation and awe.

I lingered, not knowing whether I wanted to run or stay... deep down knowing that it wasn't because I had a reason, not because I liked the man, not because I wanted anything to do with this crazy game... In fact, quite the opposite... But then again wasn't it that twinkle, that underlying spark which came from my teacher's normality, the reason? Or maybe I was imagining that too.

Dark brown, combed hair and dusky blue eyes; the man wasn't cold. In fact, more than any other teacher, he was warm. He had that irresistable charm that made you love the subject and feel a passion for it that only magnified your own. He was strange though. So seemingly perfect, there was an underlying darkness, something you couldn't see or feel or touch, implacable within him that made him seem... False.

That was it.

False.

Nothing seemed genuine once you had spoken to him in private. Because you suddenly realised why he wanted you to talk more, why he wanted you to be around more, why he wanted you. I shuddered and he felt the teacher's body closer to his own.

This wasn't right.

Then again what was right? My family had disowned me. I wasn't straight. I had a cousin on prozac and questionable other medications. I barely had any friends because I was too fucked up to retain them and... My teacher was coming onto me with his hands ubing my shoulders and his face turned into my neck, hot breathing down my throat.

"Sir, this isn't right." I voiced my oppinion aloud. I wasn't up for this even if rules weren't my forte.

"What's not right, Mr Watts?" He turned me round, his fingers on my face and tracing. I didn't want those hands near me but how many times had this happened?

Too many times, "This sir. Any of this sir..."

My words were cut off by a rough shove into the wall, away from the view of the door. His eyes weren't warm when you looked at them closely. That normality you saw sparkling wasn't really passion for his words, nor a love for his job. No, it was something much harder and more viscious than that.

"Think of your grades."

Predatory.

"My grades are fine sir."

"Not without my consent."

"I have other teachers I can turn to. You're not the 'dean' of this subject, module or anything."

"And who'll believe you? The boy who came here on scraped grades? Without real registration details? " The man laughed, "No, no, Mr Watts. You're far from believable and because of that you have no choice in this matter."

I shivered again. You always know what's going to happen when his corners you like this. You always pray it might be different, wish you'd run away. And you let the things get done to you because you have no choice and he knows the truth. That dirty little truth.

"What about papers that I can show to the Dean. I can show an essay that should be 'A' when you've given it-"

"Oh shut up. Your know that wouldn't work." The man laughed again and I had to bite back a small yelp as he pinched my skin and twisted.

And he did what he wanted. And nobody gave a shit.

*

It was on the way out of that class... Just as I was ready to throw myself under a duvet, never to emerge again that I heard someone shouting my name. I stopped but didn't look round. I knew it was Rory. Who else would bloody speak to me? And I also knew that she would know something was wrong... I didn't trust my eyes.

"OI!" She called again and I heard runing feet, a small clip-clop and then felt her small weight launch itself onto my back. I made a small gargling sound, her arms wrapping a little too tightly around my throat and I heard a male laugh from beside me.

I lifted my eyes slightly, saw a crimson haired stranger who's face was split in two by his grin and who's slanted asian eyes were cerulean blue.

"DYYYYYYLLLLAAANNNNNNNN!" Rory was whining into my ear, "Take me to the coffee place! We've discussion plans for Coney Isola!" She was putting on a strange italish accent that was making the whole world seem different again. I wasn't good today. I wanted to go to bed again and skip whatever I had that afternoon if I had anything....

"We're going..." I couldn't put her down, of course not, her feet probably hurt having tottered around in high heels all morning, not that she wan't used to it but....

I passed a look at the blue eyed, japanese kid. He looked incredibly young for a student but then again some people did, his grin became wider still and I could imagine his jaw falling off if it split any further across.

"I'm Lee, by the way." He said in an accent that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.

"Dylan, then again, you probably heard that one already."

"Kind of..." The guy was looking at him oddly and I averted my eyes. I hated when people stared and they trundled on, Rory babbling away in the background of my thoughts, completely oblivious.

*

The coffee shop was packed. For the first time in a long while we actually struggled to reach our usual table at the back near the top window on the raised platform so we could see the rest of the store. What I loved about this place was the smell of books and the dusty scents that mixed in with the coffee making it seem even more parisian than the french owner whose exuberant personality lifted the mood of the room without me. I felt the room out, my arms were limp and my body cold depsite the mass of bodies around me. I didn't want to be here, and yet I did... Why was I always so goddamned fucking confused?

The thing which caught my eye was the two guys I'd never spoken to before, but always seemed to crop up. I remembered the taller one smiling at me once when I'd nearly stacked it over my unlaced shoes and knocked over the blond triumverate of the university. In some, strange inexplicable way I wanted to join them, and from the look on Lee's face he felt sort of the same.

"You know them?" I asked as Rory went to find mochas and expressos.

"Yeah. They're in my residance. I think they go to class with my room mate. Uhhhh one of them's called Loki, like the Norse god of mischeif or something. The one who's tied down with poison dripping on his face and-"

I guess I must have been looking at him slightly oddly because he shut up and grinned again. I remembered learning about the different mythologies with my father before things became complicated and I forced a smile to my own face. Lee... was... different.

In a good way, of course.

That was when we noticed that Rory had returned. To the other guys' table. She smiled and beckoned us over with a funny look on her face. Had she taken those dubious medical helpers today or had she conveniantly forgotten again?

"I was just asking these fine fellows what was so wonderfully, fantastically, engrossingly interesting about them that had you two baboons looking at them in such avid concentration."

She didn't make much sense but the message came across, her deadpan face telling up it was true, she really had been asking that, and I felt my cheeks flush.

How could my day be any better?

"Uh..." Lee was stuttering and yet still grinning as he did so. The amused smirks on the two stranger's faces making my oppinions of life skitter into the drain.

I sank into the chair Rory offered me next to her and stared at my hands. I let the conversation pick up around me. Every so often glancing up and nodding as if I was listening.

"Right so what to you think?"

"Dylan?"

"DYLAN!"

Rory bellowed into my ear and I jumped back with one arm up as if ready to defend against being hit, "What?" I asked with a sheepish glance at the others.

"You weren't listening." She tsked me and waggled her finger, yeah she hadn't taken her medecine, "We're going to Coney Island. Now."

I felt my face drain of colour. It would be fun... I told myself half-heartedly... It would be... thrilling.

I blinked as my eyes turned to face the handbag that lay sullenly on the smooth walnut surface of the table, beside the satisfyingly thick, white, china teacup that now contained my dregs. The buttersoft leather seemed to be draped over its contents, with all the appearence of coagulated sunlight, it's cream surface divided into miniature mountains and valleys. The braided handle with it's 'secret' compartments had fallen haphazardly to the back of the bag and the front pocket was unzipped, with various contents visible to my searching pupils. Miniature mascara and lipglosses bustled busily against a tea packet of Twining's 'English Breakfast', the remnants of a horde stolen from a self-service breakfast carts in order to maintain a constant supply back in america.

I felt my stomach clench with a sharp wrench as I looked at the teabag. Memories of my Grandmother, left behind in England, flooded my mind and almost made me choke. I looked away from it, towards my fingerrs, which stroked and smoothed the foil of a Kit-Kat wrapper that I seemed to carry with me everywhere, but which was never conciously remembered. They moved with the fluid grace that came with old habit, stretching the metal, a reaction to stress that had formed of its own accord without direction from my brain.... Automatic.

Aluminium foil should be provided in all world peace conferences and Security council meetings.

My stomach now fluttered as muscles began to loosen, and I looked upwards, with a swift motion grabbing the bag and looping the handle over my arm. With a large groan, I realised that my jacket was still draped over the back of my chair, petulantly exposing its paint stains. My back clicked into place as I turned around to pick up the brown leather.

"Loki..." I grinned at him sheepishly, my eyes twinkling with mischief as he turned towards me and raised his eyebrows.

"Petit...." he drawled in the thick New orleans accent that he had adopted at some point during the conversation, after a pie eating contest between them, in order to keep himself amused.

"You're wearing my jacket!" I giggled, throwing it at him and ducking behind Dylan. My nose detected a slash of bark and crushed leaf blades mixed with strong smell of turpentine, as I rested my head on his shoulder and jumped. "Piggy back." I demanded petulantly, kissing his cheek and ruffling his hair.

"Mate...It looks like you're getting a work out." I turned to the owner of the deep, soft drawl. Kano had risen from his chair, and stood, fairly tall, with his soft brown eyes smiling at them. His dark hair was braided behind his head and a lone red feather was tucked in to the top of the plait.

"I'm quite sure that a mere suggestion on my part could launch her onto you, so you'd better watch out..." Dylan retorted with a grin. It took a second for me to register that Dylan had actually made a joke with a stranger. Perhaps..........no, that was far too unlikely.

"It's true you know, I have no criteria when it comes to my horses...or should that be pigs? I must admit that I am rather fond of this particular one though, good blood lines..." I felt an elbow dig in to my ribs at this, and let out a gargle. Suddenly I felt y mind flip through various ideas in a matter of seconds; sun...train...timetable...ah.

"Nearest F train?" Dylan gargled as I tightened my grip in retaliation.

"We are off to washington square-west fourth street," Lee anounced, surrepticiously looking at his MTA map, but concealing it very well.

"You know, you don't have to pretend that you didn't just look at the map...." Loki said mischeivously, his eyes creasing into a smile, as his hand reached upp to scratch his head. He was now wearing the leather jacket draped over one shouder with his pinky, and gazing longingly at the two drum sticks that poked out of my bag. They were maple, with small round tips; light, fast playing sticks, with a slightly darker sound than nylon tips, and they had a great flex and rebound. The sticks were beefy, but not heavy.

"You know..I should probably just give 'em to you before you go into a state of shock....." I laughed. He continued staring at them in awe for about 3 minutes as we walked out of the shop, before registering my words. Poor love. I laughed and repeated myself, "Loki?"

"yeah Petit?" He replied quickly, hearing me for the first time, his eyes now trained on the pavement in from=nt of him.

"You can have 'em. I haven't played since I was about 15, they were sweet talked out of a musician at a club as a dare from Ella..."

"You talked a man out of his drumsticks? My opinion on your morals just went down, petit..." he replied, although his eyes now glistned wih prospect.

"...hiss band's music consisted od covers of Lynard Skynard." I retorted.

"And that is why my opinions of you just rose again tenfold..." said Kano as he laughed softly, "how people like that get into New York clubs is beyond me."

I kept my eyes focused on the drumsticks wondering if she really meant it. I mean, it wasn't like I didn't have drumsticks, it was just... I didn't have them with me. And it would be so much easier to make a beat with them rather than my hands. Not that that really stopped me when I decided to create music. I created music with less than a thought. In fact... I looked down at my hands, they'd started reaching for them without thinking, and I was almost touching them.

"I meant it," Rory said, grinning at me in a way that reminded me of myself at my most defenseless. "Take 'em." I did so, and then proceded to use her head like it was a drum for a moment, which got her to shriek and giggle. I think she might be on some kind of upper. Well, either that or she hadn't taken her downers. It didn't matter, it was all the same.

My hands deftly wandered across each head in turn with the sticks, beating out something Kano and I had been working on the other day, and he glared up at me when I gently tapped his head, his eyes daring me to hit him any harder. I grinned and he said, "You've got the beat wrong on the third strike," which made me laugh.

"That's only 'cause you were glaring at me!" I said in protest and he shrugged so quickly I think I was the only one who caught it. His movements were something that took me a long time to get, and now that I've got some idea of how he works, I've realized that he doesn't say much in words, but his actions tell me a lot about him.

I wasn't sure about this Lee guy, he was... well, like he was holding himself back at the moment. Maybe he was like Kano, and trying to decide how much of himself he could show to the outside world. I'd given up trying to give a shit about people's opinion of me by now. I just had to deal with myself, and that's how I liked it personally.

Speaking of which, "Are we going anywhere with food? I'm starved." Dylan looked at me as though I must be kidding, Lee laughed as though he was certain I was kidding, Rory assured me there was going to be food, and Kano handed me a bar of chocolate. "Thanks Kano," I said, and he shrugged as I opened the wrapper and started munching.

Dylan blinked once, "Are you really hungry? Didn't you eat a whole pie during that contest?" I nodded and grinned, taking another bite.

"I'm always hungry, it's what all of my parents always hated about me." I said it without thinking, then shrugged. Rory looked at me curiously and I answered her with a grin. "I eat too much."

Kano saved me by looking around and pointing at a sign. "Is that where we're going?" he asked and it got Rory's attention off of me. I'd have to remember to thank him later, Kano was the only one I'd told part of my sorry life tale to, and he had just sat there and listened when I did. I wasn't ashamed of my life, nor was I happy or particularly disturbed. It simply was. There was nothing I could have done or would do now to change it. So I dealt with things one hit at a time. At least I try to stay out of trouble these days.

Rory jumped off of Dylan, which caused him to grunt and rub his back a bit, and grabbed hold of my hand. For a moment I was frightened. Where was the drumsticks? "Wait!" I said, and almost dropped the rest of the cocolate in my hands, that would have been a disaster. I looked around for a moment, then realized where they were. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Sorry, I thought I might have lost them somewhere." I patted my pocket. At some random point in time I'd put them in the front pocket of my jeans. I picked up Rory's hand again, which was good because I think she was going to smack me if I hadn't, and started heading off.

"Come on! We want to spend some time there so we have to hurry." She grabbed Lee's hand in her other hand, and I stuffed the rest of my chocolate in my mouth to take her initiative and grabbed the nearest hand by me, which just happened to be Dylan's as Kano had not kept up with Rory's frantic running forward. Dylan looked at me in surprise so I grinned at him, hoping all the cocolate was out from my teeth, and I nodded my head to Kano.

"Don't forget about him!" I said exuberently, which must have conviced him that Kano wouldn't kill him if he took his hand, so he did, and Kano leveled me with a stare that would have damaged me if it could have. "Excellent!" I said loudly, and then wondered which way we were going. "Where are we going again, and do they have food?" I asked Rory as Dylan looked at Kano as though he thought he should drop the hand.

"Yes already Loki, there's food, and we're going here!" I didn't know if I should be pleased, but I was certain that wherever it was I'd get fed. I tried to remember if I'd remembered to save money for some music paper or not, then figured if I hadn't I'd just make some of my own when I ran out and pulled Dylan forward to follow Rory.

I was ready for whatever was going to come my way. Afterall, it must be fun, there was food, and maybe music!

Looking around at the four people he was with then down at his hand grasped in Dylan's made Kano's heart accelerate. Not that this really meant anything. In fact that was the most disturbing part of it all. "I'm sorry, I'm just not used to holding hands with people unless I like them," he told Dylan, then immediately regretted it as it wasn't exactly what he meant, "not that I don't like you..." He closed his eyes and shook his head. How had he gotten into this situation? Yet he knew how, it was Loki as usual. Kano had wanted a cup of good, black coffee...

...

"I've heard this place has good coffee." Kano stopped at the shop and glanced in.

"But, I don't have any money," Loki complained. Kano eyed him skeptically, but it was probably true. Loki had a very hard time holding onto money.

"I'll buy you one piece of pastry or slice of pie," Kano told him like a parent speaking to a child, because that was most often the best way to deal with Loki.

"Great!" Now Loki was excited and he was through the door in a split second. Kano sighed and followed. When the got in he ordered and paid for his coffee then stood behind Loki waiting for him to make a decision. It literally took Loki twenty minutes to decide on an apple strudel thing.

"I'd also like one of those," he told the girl at the counter, and a refill. His coffee was empty.

"Wow, you drank that fast!" Loki exclaimed, staring at the cup.

"No."

"No?" Loki stared at him, confused.

"No, you just took forever to make up your mind." Kano paid for the pastry and handed it over, slipping into a back table where he thought they might not be disturbed. It was only a few minutes before he felt eyes on him. "We're being watched." He talked to Loki a certain amount these days. With most people he found that he felt inadequate. It was difficult to communicate. He often said the wrong thing or at least said it in the wrong way. With Loki he now had an easy friendship. Although Loki drove him completely nuts some days, he was comfortable and didn't feel self conscious around him.

"Really? By who?" Loki grinned, bouncing his head this way and that trying to find the onlookers.

"Stop it." Kano glanced in the direction of the two onlookers. "I believe their names are Lee and Dylan."

"You know them!"

"Of course not," Kano found it fairly difficult to get to know people. "I just... like them. Although Lee is a bit excitable for my tastes." Kano's eyes fell on Dylan. There was something not right about him today. He looked like he would rather be home, hiding then out in front of the world. Kano was familiar with the feeling, although he suspected it took more for Dylan to feel that way then for him to.

"Oh, I think I might know them!" It occurred to Kano at that moment that he should finish his coffee and leave, but it was too late. That was when the girl, Rory came over. He thought he might have seen her around before, but he had a bit more trouble remembering girl. The next thing he knew they were all there, chatting. As usual he had very little to say, and when he did speak he had a feeling he should have kept his mouth shut. Most of his attention was on Dylan. Yes, there was something wrong.

...

Dylan dropped his hand. That figured, he should have just kept his mouth shut. He'd been holding hands with Dylan and it hadn't been unpleasant. He shook his head, but it hadn't meant anything either. He really wasn't good with people. He wanted to ask Dylan what was bothering him, but he didn't know how. Why would Dylan tell him anyhow? Kano had been a total stranger to him until recently. He sighed, why he'd allowed himself to be dragged off was more than he could fathom.

Narrioch, the land without shadows, now known as Coney Island was their destination. Once known as a good place to hunt rabbits. Later in the mid to late 1800's it became a resort and amusement park. After World War II the constant arguments regarding zoning began. Should it be residential? Should it be for amusements? It had never mattered to Kano, even though the annoying bickering continued through his lifetime. He'd never been to Coney Island.

Without thinking he began humming a tune which nagged at the edges of his mind. Then he pulled out the small notepad he kept in his pocket with a pen and began scribbling notes in it as he walked.

Elizabeth had gotten off work and was now making her way through the entrance to Cooney Island. It wasn't her first time there, but it felt like it, afterall, she hadn't been there sine she was 8.

As the wind blew, Elizabeth wrpped her sweater tightly around her. It was a chilly night, but not so bad, that you were freezing. Walking along the pier, the familiar sights started to come back to her. The giant ferris wheel, and the wooden roller coaster...

Truly, Elizabeth didn't know why she came back to Coney Island that particular night. Maybe she just felt she needed to get away, or maybe it was still that memory of 10 years ago...

"No" Elizabeth said quietly out loud.

'You aren't supposed to think of that, you're not supposed to remember... Tonight is supposed to be fun' Elizabeth was thinking to herself as she wandered into the nearest store.

Lee didn't quite know how he had ended up hanging out with these guys he'd only ever admired from afar... well mainly the exuberance of Loki and the broken perfection of Dylan, thanks to Rory's constant chatter about her lonely cousin. But no matter how they had arrived in the little pie-selling shop in Coney Island, he was glad they had. He was glad, once again, for confiding his insecurity with Rory Constant who had turned into his Italian helper and most charismatic friend. Even though he hadn't realised she was a model until about the third or forth time they had spoken...

So they were in a sort of food place, with Loki looking like he could buy everything and eat it all when Lee noticed that Dylan and Kano were lagging behind them all slightly and he frowned. He had imagined them both, especially Dylan, to have been a little more interested in the hyperactive pair that were bouncing in front of them like mountain goats in Scotland. Yes he had just alluded to goats when referring to Rory.

She wasn't goatish. She just bounced. Why was he trying to make up excuses for himself? Lee wasn't sure. He was on a high and didnt want to involve himself too much with the silent pair behind him in case it made him sullen too... He wanted to help them though.

"LEE!" Rory was shouting down the aisle and waving, "Grab the others! We've found pie!"

Pie?

Oh yeah. Loki wanted pie. He shook his head. His thoughts had become static and irrational as his excitement entoxicated him. He loved these people already and he called down to Dylan and Kano, who were now walking in line, "We've found pie."

Kano looked up with one eye brow raised, Dylan just nodded without looking up. What was wrong with the usually interested punk? Had something happened? Or maybe it was just a bad day. Everyone had bad days. It was understandable.

Anyway, Lee looked away briefly, only to then turn back and find Dylan ducking behind Kano and hiding. Kano looked confused, even for someone who barely showed much emotion. Loki was confused. And Loki and Rory were by the till paying for the four small packages they had chosen and five coffees. Lee shrugged and went to join them. Maybe that was Dylan flirting. He was bi right? That's what Rory had said... Yeah it was probably Dylan flirting...

Fair enough.

Kano was hot.

In a kind of stand offish kind of way.

And so was Loki who was now right beside him with Rory in tow and a lot of pie.

*Hey, guys. Having a bit of writer's block on this one right now. I'll let some of our newer writers catch up. Hope I can make an addition soon.

He didn't really want to go to Coney Island. He felt awkward, as if he shouldn't be there... Almost as if he was raining on everyone else's parade because he couldn't bring himself to shake off the events of earlier in the day. Every seemed so happy. He was sure that on any other day the intensity of Loki, Rory and Lee would have been refreshing. And of course there was Kano who inadvertantly had made his spirits fall even further. It wasn't that he didn't understand. He had felt kind of weird too, suddenly holding hands with people he barely knew when sober always was... But... Fucking hell he needed a drink.

Loki and Rory had launched themselves into a cafe/shop which reminded him vaguely of a British lunch stop.

"Kanoooooooooooo." Had Loki been taking lessons from Rory?

As the other three rushed about the shop it seemed that he and the mostly silent other boy were lagging. He almost smiled. Until he saw familiar brown eyes flashing from a table in the corner. He flinched and tried to turn away, only to find himself knocking into Kano. He ducked, trying to hide but found his new friend turning with him, a mixture of curiousity and concern seeming to flicker across his face.

He glanced back. Brown eyes led to long brown hair and crooked teeth. It wasn't him. It wasn't him... Dylan's breathing was rapid a shallow and he needed air.

"Are you... what's wrong?" Kano was still watching him and he swayed slightly.

Dylan put a hand to his head. He was such a mess, "I need to get outside." He said, lacking his usual roughness. He barely recognised his voice. He sounded so... pathetic.

Avoiding the eyes of anyone about them he let himself be half led outside. If he had less pride he probably would have cried. But he did and had promised himself he would never cry again so he refrained, simply sinkig to the pavement outside the building. His breathing was beginning to return to normal and his heart rate was slowing down.

Kano said nothing, standing beside him almost prtectively as he gathered up the shattered peices of his mask. Was it really so bad he was ecoming paranoid? That wasn't... that wasn't right...

Dylan was never scared. He never let himself feel it. But then again what else was it that was making his heart go into over drive at the mere thought of that teacher being in the same shop as him? He especially didn't show it infront of people like he was right now. He wasn't built to let his real self show when it would make him vunerable. Unless he was drunk... in which case he was more vunerable than ever but he didn't care because being drunk made it easier. Even if he was prone for putting himself in awkward positions. This was worse. He wanted a drink.

"I'm sorry." He said after a while. The panic was gone, replaced by a desolate feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was as if something had been taken away. The same as he usually did after English these days.

"Don't be." Unassuming and calm, that seemed to be Kano. He liked it. Easier that way.

**

The thing Dylan loved about Coney Island was the way it changed. During the day it was calm mostly, nothing eccentric not like at night. That was when the fun began and the boom boxes sounded and the punks and dissidents came out to rave. The five of them sat on the sand of the beach, their feet pressed into the snow.

"Oooooooo my god you're joking right?" That was Rory laughing about some joke. She really loosened up around these people. Maybe she didn't feel so pressured by them… Or maybe the alcohol was messing with her medication balance. He wouldn't be surprised. He knocked back his bottle of wine, refusing to drink the beer that they had also brought with them. It was a Sancerre withfifty years behind it that had left it bursting with flavour. He let its golden poison wash through his mouth and into his system. He had drunk most of the bottle as the others swapped stories.

Lee was interesting, seeming so naïve at times that it was hard not to laugh at him, yet also showing a depth of understanding beyond his years. It was hard to think of him as seventeen. He knew he hadn't been so mature when he was his age… Though it wasn't so long ago…

Things changed. He tossed back more of the drink. Someone was talking about parents and how they were only good if they were there. He lurched slightly as he laughed out loud, the alcohol definitely in his head by now, "Parents fucking suck. They're there as long as your convenient! Fuck them!"

"Dyl…" Rory's hand was on his arm and he shrugged her off with a grin.

"It's true ain't it?" he laughed again and stood up. Looking at the others with a wide smile, "I can hear music!"

"Music?" Lee tilted his head.

Had darkness fallen without them noticing? He'd noticed. And he heard the beat of Agenda Suicide by the Faint drilling out into the night. He held out a hand to Rory and then to Kano who was sat beside her watching him with a very different look on his face. Loki, who had seemed perturbed with his out burst now leapt up with a slight wobble as he felt the head rush.

"Let's go!"

"PARRRRRTTTTAY!" That was Rory, once again attached to Loki.

Dylan grinned and ran forward, letting the sand fill his shoes and trip him slightly as he went forward. Now looking for something stronger than the wine.

*

Dylan was dancing. Sancerre, vodka and rum mixing in his veins and pulling out his desperate need for someone to care. He didn't mind who. He just wanted affection. He wanted the feel of someone holding him because they wanted him. He wanted someone to make up for the loss of it he had felt before… That was how his enslavement had started wasn't it….?

His body moved in time with the beat. He was flying and twirling and he had lost Rory. Where was Rory? Swaying and letting himself go. Freedom. Arms were around his waist, thick arms with muscles lined with tattoos. He tried to same something about his own markings but found himself pressed more firmly into the other man. When had he stopped dancing with girls again? And where were the others? Where was Kano? Where was Rory? The arms were ensnaring him and trapping him down. He wasn't flying any more and he didn’t like the way this man was forcing him to comply with him. The man's lips were on his own and he didn't resist, becoming passive until the man drew his tongue over his lips, asking him to respond. Which he did, forgetting his apprehension and the force that was holding him there. He tried to forget. He tried so hard to forget all the time. The man smirked against his mouth as he felt more hands wrap around his body. Someone was now pressing up behind him in a way that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Lips descended and sucked his neck. His head thrown back he stared up at the night sky and couldn't see the stars properly because his eyes were funny. The men tugged him away from the crowd of people that had accumulated on the shore and pulled him to one of the metallic palm trees. Shoving him up against it roughly and attacking his mouth and neck once again. He squirmed he didn't like this. He wanted to be cared for not pinned down. He began to struggle slightly, trying to pull away but he was completely pinned.

Not again. Not again. Not again not again not again notagainnotagainotagainotagain.

"Get off me." He managed to force out. Hands were roaming down his sides and fingering his trousers, "Get off."

Please someone?

He was drunk enough to know he was helpless. He wouldn't be able to run. It was a wonder he was standing. But he was sober enough to realise he didn't like this one bit. Flashbacks of brown eyes and crawling hands made him cry out as the men on top of him began to follow the same course of action.

Anyone?

*

The sky and the water had merged into one. It pooled in inky shadows in front of my eyes, blood spilling across the horizon in a smooth curtain. Somehow, New York transcended it's insular position. Surrounded by a Jungle of bricks and glass, even with four rivers carving their way around around Manhattan's finger, it was easy to forget that the sea existed.

That's why I had brought them here. All I had wanted was a cancer and the old moloko plus, as the honourable narrator would put it, whilst I stared at the measured violence that was the Atlantic ocean as it rolled onto the beach at Coney Island. The promenade, stretching for miles behind the beach, seperated the last dregs of brooklyn from the white sand where it met the sea.

Coney Island, no matter how many face lifts it was given, remained unchanged. I felt my fingers dig into the sand and looked down at my crossed legs, now bare and riddled with bumps from the cold night air. The tall black spikes of my shoes were sunk into the top of a sand castle to my right, the ribbed grey tights that I had worn earler stuffed into the front pocket of my bag. My little castle was lopsided and had a hefty chunk kicked out of it from where a drunken frat boy had stumbled towards the sea in order to throw up. Desecration of the highest order. The air pulsated as music blasted in the background, it's bass peirced occasionally by the hedonistic screams that didn't seem to belong here. Invading.

With a languid, feline stretch I dug my heels into the sand and pushed upwards in an effort to move from my current position. My hands sunk back into the sand as I attempted to push off them and I grunted with displeasure.

"Are you alright there?" A voice muttered from behind me, as a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness beside a metal palm tree.The moonlight picked out a glistening nose ring and golden flecks in liquid brown eyes. Her skin seemed transluscent in the light and I could just pick up a wash of blue eyeshadow. Ella.

"Clearly I am struggling with attempts at movement, so if you could help me I will not sock you one at a later date." I muttered darkly, but grinned up at her. I could feel my eyes glint as I studied her shadowy sillhouette against the lights of the impromptu party.

She stepped closer to me and offered me a slender hand, yellow nail varnish glinting softly at me through a veil of darkness. Grasping it with a sudden bout of energy I managed to pull her over in a fit of giggles.

My eyebrows raised at her and I collapsed backwards to languish on the soft sand. "Exactly how is this condusive to me standing up?" I rasped hoarsely as I grasped the bottle of Italian beer that lay by my side. None of this pussy american shit for me.

"It was entirely your fault. You, Rory constant, pulled too hard and I toppled under the pressure. How was I meant to take your weight?" Her hand reached over and snatched the beer off me as she recomposed herself. Ella's pale legs were haphazardly entangled among mine and her hair had come loose, beads winking at me through a veil of red. Shorts the colour of crushed blackberries barely encircled her upper thighs and she wore cork wedges, with a white tee shirt peaking through from a grey waistcoat. Erratic dressing indeed.

"So it had nothing to do with you being lashed or your three inch heels? I just want to verify this before I attempt to get up again."

Ella's face crumpled into a frown. Her eyes beamed up at me like a puppy's, their liquid depths shimmering and changing. Her pupils glistened and widened with the dim light, encompassing all that they surrounded, "I thought you said we were having a quiet night, why the rave with the frat boys?"

"Believe me, so did I. It seems that my lovely cousin Dylan...normally the one pulling back my hair, has chosen to party on the one night that I'm stable enough to not need or want to. I'm worried about him...we just wanted to investigate the source of the music and he went absouloutely crazy. He seemed to be lost in a flurry of music, throwing himself around like there was no tomorrow. Sometimes I think he's going to get himself into a position he can't get out of, but it's fine, there are loads of people looking out for him here."

"Bugger." A brief, but petrifying statement slipped from Ella's full lips and slithered into the night breeze. Her eyes searched my face as she sat opposite me. "Tell me...how do you think he feels about being pinned to walls?" A mane of hair had fallen into her face as we rose slowly, kicking my heels along the sand towards the fire and its revellers.

I felt my pace quicken and energy shift through my body. The muscles of my eyes tensed as I peered into her face, adrenaline pumping through me like a volatile poison. "...He gets jumpy when people touch him. As long as it's just some arty hipster it's fine though. He's drunk so it's probably..."

"No." Ellas soft american tones surrounded me, drowning out the music, the sea and the screams. She looked worried, had been in his position before. But then again... I had always been there to cut in and Ella, being a regular, knew exactly how to deal with this kind of crap. Dylan, on the other hand, was about as prepared as I was to take Ella's medical exams. "The guy....he was big. Muscles and tattoos big. Bouncer at the knitting factory big."

My skin pricked with shocks, like conurbations of needles had chosen to peirce my skin and smother me with the stifling night air. I was drowning in the darkness. Dropping my bag at Ella's feet, I sprinted towards the promenade, framed as it was by the graffitied walls that guarded Astroland from heathens and children of the night.

My skin smacked forcefully against a tall, masculine form that smelt of vanilla and sandalwood.

"ugh." Kano's voice slipped out as I swore and rubbed my shin. "Rory, you should really look where you're...fuck me what's wrong?" HE studied me with the same careful concern that Dylan had done earlier that day, visibly agitated as brown eyes searched my distraught eyes.

"Its Dylan. He's pinned against a wall and....and he has issues with affection and..." I flung myself forward and clutched onto his strong back, trying to maintain a heart rate that would ensure I wouldn't faint.

"But he lets you...ah....right... he only lets you." Understanding flashed across his face as he recalled the reluctance of dylan to hold hands. Suddenly, a pained expression flitted across his face, but in a moment it was replaced with a calm thoughtfulness. "tell me...how heavy is your handbag?"

"It's like a fucking house. Ella should bring it in a second, if she's not too drunk to find us."

Honestly I'm not sure what got into me. Perhaps it was the pie? Or maybe the later affect of the large ham and turkey sandwich? It could have been the tea, or the cola, or even the three different bags of potato chips I ate as well. Whatever it was, I found myself partaking of some kind of liquor... or... beer maybe? It tasted terrible whatever it was, but they refilled my glass and as I hadn't seen anything else to drink, I drank it as well.

It was something that seemed to make everyone else lose control and become loud, for me, I seemed to become quiet. Too quiet. I started thinking. Which I didn't normally do. I was remembering things that only made me sad, so when I was sitting down, having not remembered what all I'd said outloud, and Dylan walked past me, or rather was dragged past me, I thought perhaps he was going to be alright on his own. I started thinking that maybe, just maybe, he was getting something that I never even thought I ought to have.

Well, I mean, besides the whole sex thing, which I wasn't sure I wanted anyway. Some kind of affection, some kind of attention directed directly at him. When I blinked up at the passing figures though, I felt something drill deeply into my head.

'He doesn't want it,' my brain said firmly, and taking that as a reason to get up, I tried to do so. I lurched forward and found my face in the sand. It tasted terrible. I would have to remember to never drink anything that could make me feel this way. How many drinks had I had? Oh right, just two. Ugh, this felt terrible. What was I doing anyway? Oh right, Dylan was... not happy.

I put my hands under me and pushed up on the ground. A moment later, a splash of freezing cold water sprayed over my head. Something cleared, like mist, and I blinked my eyes a few times to look up at the face of one seriously angry looking Kano. Oh wait, no, he wasn't angry, just annoyed.

"Did you make me cold?" I asked slightly irritated myself. He nodded.

"Get up," he said, and I wondered how long I'd been on the ground, there seemed to be sand stuck to my face. "We're going to the wall." He said it so matter of factly that I nodded and got up, brushing myself off and stretching a bit.

"I feel better now, thanks Kano!" I said happily, wondering why I'd felt depressed at all before. He shook his head and motioned in the air to the right of me. I blinked that way, and realized that was where Dylan had been led off.

"We're stopping idiot's, you're good at that." He reached over and pulled the drum sticks out of my pocket, pushing them in my hands. I blinked at them. "Your weapons," he said, and I looked to him again, blinking a few more times.

"Stopping idiots?" I asked, and Rory came over in a rush.

"I've got my bag, let's go!" she said urgently and Kano nodded once.

"Dylan," he said simply and I nodded my head.

"Is he in trouble?" Kano nodded and I motioned to Rory, "Lead the way lady!" She grabbed my arm and Kano's as well and started rushing off. I wondered about Kano's decision to help, but then realized that probably Dylan was like Kano, so it was only natural that he'd want to help him. Well, at least thats what I thought. So I followed, and twirled the drumsticks in my hands. I hadn't used them as weapons since the bar fight that made Kano my first real friend. I hadn't needed to after that.

Well, I *was* good with them, I just needed to not break this pair.

Kano had been doing the thing he always was doing when he missed something important. He'd been preoccupied with the tune in his head, trying to sort it out while everyone else had more to drink. It was hard with the music pressing in to hear the music in his head, but when he concentrated he could still tune into it.

He'd dances with Dylan for a bit, but slipped away when others pushed in. From the sidelines he could half watch Dylan, a tragic and beautiful figure out on the beach, sweat glistening on his skin. It made Kano want to touch that skin, to get to know the feel of it, the taste of it. Such thoughts made him turn his attention back to the music. He didn't really want a one night stand, they never turned out well. Yes he did. No, he didn't.

Just as he was throwing together some scattered lyrics he looked up and realized Dylan was no longer in sight. How long had he been distracted? He didn't think it was any longer than five or ten minutes. Of course, it didn't take too long for someone to wander off. Kano stood, stretched and began walking down the beach looking for Dylan. That was when he'd run into the girl, Rory, who he was surprised to see had left Loki. Before he got the chance to look around for Lee she was answering his question with words he didn't want to hear. If only he'd kept his eyes on the dance floor.

He grabbed Loki, who was acting just like he was completely drunk. It made no sense. Kano had had a couple drinks, he was fine. He hadn't seen Loki drink more than a couple himself. Rory and Ella were both now leading the way to the opposite side of the dancing. Where they found three hulking men enjoying Dylan's body. Dylan was clearly not into what was happening to him as he kept yelling for them to get off, but it wasn't very loud and he was clearly exhausted. It seemed he'd been trying to get away for a while. His clothes were a tattered mess.

Kano started by doing the one thing he did best. In a clear commanding voice he yelled, "Get away from him, right now." This shifted their attention in his direction. Rory was evidently following her instincts as well. She had her handbag again, and she went straight for the one who'd been hurting Dylan the most, swinging the handbag hard. Kano wasn't sure where she'd meant to aim, but the handbag arced upwards with great force, crashing into the man's face. The was a sickening cracking sound and his nose spurted blood. Overall Kano thought it had been a good hit.

The three men advanced on them and he clearly heard Loki say, "You should just leave more before I realize what all you've done to my friend." Kano felt his lips curve slightly in a grim smile. Most people would think drum sticks were useless in a fight. It just wasn't true when Loki wielded them. He wasn't a skilled fighter himself, but he usually could hold his own when needed. One of the guys went for Ella, who screamed a piercing scream when he grabbed hold of her, and raked her nails across his face drawing blood. Loki was poking at the other two with his sticks, covering them with what would likely be hundreds of bruises before he was done. Rory ran to help Ella her handbag swinging as if in anticipation of it's next chance to strike.

Kano went straight to Dylan, who had fallen to the ground and was shaking. He should have been crying but he wasn't. His eyes were dry, the only signs of his anxiety the expression on his face, the emptiness in his eyes, and the way he shook uncontrollably. Kano bent down and looked into his eyes.

"Dylan?" Dylan lurched, curling up and closing his eyes.

"Brown eyes," he said. Kano contemplated that for a few moments. His eyes were actually blue, like his fathers. There was no way Dylan was talking about him. He put an arm around Dylan tentatively as the fighting continued around them.

"No, they're blue. Dylan... can you stand." He thought it might be best to get Dylan away during the confusion. Dylan uncurled enough to look at Kano, his eyes were uncertain, hurt, scared.

"Kano?" Well, at least he was actually present again, but before Kano had the chance to answer Dylan was clinging to him. It was so strange that Kano blinked blankly for a moment before closing his arms around Dylan and holding him. He suspected that Dylan still wasn't crying, but he seemed to want to be held and under the circumstances Kano understood the desire. He didn't mind being the one to hold him. He looked over Dylan's head to see that Ella and Rory were sitting on top of the thug they'd been attacking. He wasn't moving and they appeared to be chatting about something. Perhaps they were deciding whether to come over or not?

Lee had shown up at some point. Kano had no idea when, but Loki was talking to him with bright animation, the other two thugs nowhere in sight. Kano breathed a sigh of relief and softly spoke to Dylan. "They're gone now, so you don't have to worry about them, okay?"

Dylan nodded silently. It felt good to hold him, maybe a bit too good.

Loki was laughing with him at something. Holding out his drumsticks in glee, "They didn't break!"

Lee grinned. It was true, who would have thought that those things could have been so effective without breaking. It wasn't like they were obvious weapons though he had learnt that no object weilded in battle should be underestimated. Some old fellow back in Japan had told him that, a veteran of the Second World War. He grinned even more widely when Loki sat, tugging him to the sand with a snicker.

"Look at those two." Lee suddenly noticed the whole reason of the skirmish, Dylan, was wrapped in Kano's embrace. He wasn't jealous at all but he did feel a pang in his chest. He did so want to be held like that one day. Though he doubted he'd ever find someone who could keep him off the shelf and help him free himself of his demons. It wasn't even like he had big demons. He had just always been the brainy kid with no real friends for so long that he wanted to know what it was like. Looking about him, he knew he'd had a taste of it today, "So cute!" The word fell from his mouth before he could stop it and Loki dissolved into giggles.

Yup, he had just used the word 'cute' and sounded like a yaoi-fangirl in the process. He almost felt embaressed but then remembered that if he could make people laugh then people would like him and that would help him make even better friends with these people. Especially people like Loki who didn't seem to have a dull moment. Or Rory. She had been a laugh since he had first met her award-winning smile and over eager personality. These were the people he wanted to know for sure.

Dylan and Kano... Well they made a beautiful pair didn't they? There was a fragility to Dylan that Kano managed to counter with that quiet, inner strength aura he seemed to exude. Or maybe that was just because he didn't talk much. He wasn't sure. He just knew that they were cute together, even if this open show of need and affection was simply the result of a near tragedy. And Lee had seen them dancing together. Both had looked about ready to fall into the others arms. Figuratively. Of course.

Though literally it had now happened.

"We need to go home." Kano was holding the still shivering form of their drunk and unhappy friend close to his body still. Dylan's face was turned into Kano's chest as if unable to look at the rest of them yet. When did Dylan become so helpless looking? Sure he'd always had that arty-fragile-but-still-secretly-strong look that he did envy a little but now the whole 'secretly strong' bit had completely vanished.

"Yeah." Rory was looking unhappy now, really concerned about her cousin, "Though I need to get him home."

"I'll help there. It's fine." Kano seemed to genuinely care too. Lee began to plot getting him to hook up with the artist at some point.

"Yey! thanks!"

"We're going a long way home?" Loki was pouting again in a really fnny way that made him snort slightly.

"If need be."

"We'll get pie on the way." Rory added seeing a funny face forming on their food obsessed companion.

They began to shift. Moving away from the music, Dylan leaning on Kano for support as he didn't seem to want to be out of contact with someone. Reassurance? Probably.

The train station was empty and they caught the last train by a grand total of thirty seconds. It was impressive in the least to see Ella and Rory leap-frog over the barriers with their tickets in hand after the boys had all gone through normally. The trip back wasn't particularly eventful. He guessed Kano and Loki would be taking Dylan back together with Rory and seeing as he lived near by to them he stated he'd tag along instead of leaving alone.

That left Ella who was going to crash at Rory's.

"Nearly there Dyl," Rory said as they passed a certain station. There was no response at all. Not a flicker of emotion or anything. It was disconcerting. It wasn't good.

I guess you could call me confused. Ella had vanished, saying she'd be back momentarily after saying hello to Rory Constant and as of yet, she hadn't emerged. I had to say that I wasn't expecting this party here, not tonight at any rate though I had heard of these things occuring quite often in the summer. I almost preferred L'Ouragan, though I knew that Ella hadn't been expecting this either.

Slowly, realising that something had probably distracted her, knowing that I didn't really want to be there in the midst of a load of frat boys sloshing themselves silly, I left. That was that. Ella would be there tomorrow, though I couldn't help worrying about her slightly. She had loads of people looking out for her of course, I'd seen Rory and her cousin Dylan and I was pretty sure I'd seen another bunch of guys from college too.

Yeah she'd be fine. I'd see her in the later hours of the morning and I'm sure she'd fill me in with the gossip if there was any that was worth knowing. Making my way to the train I fumbled my way home, still distracted and not too happy about being abandoned. Then again... I yawned... I guess this was Ella we were talking about. She never stood still. That's why we were friends.

"See you later El." I said to the night as I let myself back into my room. And somehting told me that this night would later be one to remember.

I opened my eyes then shut them again quickly; too much light, it hurt my retinas. God I've turned into a vampire, I thought lazily as I curled deeper into the blanket surrounding me, Only come out at night.

I wasn't entirely sure where I was, the blanket didn't smell like mine so I was pretty sure I hadn't made it back to my place. Had I had sex? No; clothing all still frimly in place including those huge indigo heels, so unless I put it all my clothes back on afterwards I had spent the night alone. First time this week; I was quite impressed with myself. Right, so if I wasn't at some random boy's house then where was I? There was something familiar about the smell of those sheets but my fuddled brain couldn't quite slot the pieces together. What had happenned last night? Coney Island... Dylan, Rory, oh shit, Isaac. Damn it, I'd left him behind hadn't I? But that meant I was probably at Rory's, which meant I could turn over and go back to sleep.

My phone started ringing and almost on a reflex I clawed out trying to grab a hold of it without actually leaving the comfy swathe of blankets. I only had a vague idea of where abouts in the room it was and certianly couldn't reach it but then I heard someone come into the room. I squinted up and there was Rory, her hair all over the place and a cup of steaming coffee in her hand. She kicked my phone, which was lying discarded on the floor over to me and I glanced at the time before flipping it open. Shit, I'd missed one lecture already, it was nearly 1:00.

"Hello?" I mumbled blearily down the line

"Ella, aren't you supposed to be in class?" It was Logan.

"Probably, in fact almost definately but I don't think I'd be much use in this state."

I heard him sigh down the phone. I hate those sighs, he always manages to tell me how dissappointed he is without actually saying anything.

"How drunk did you get last night?" He asked resignedly.

I rolled my eyes at the ceiling, "Not very," I lied, "Just overslept, thats all, don't worry about me Logan."

"You make it kind of hard for me kid."

I'm not a kid, I wanted to shout back, how much do I have to do to prove that to you? Instead I just grunted down the phone.

"I'm going out tonight," I added, "There's a new club I'm dieing to try, I'll text you the name and address when I'm awake properly, meet me there tonight if you're not busy."

He just sighed again and I hung up before he could lay into me. Don't get me wrong, I love my brother to bits, and some would say he's the only one I really listen to (although I don't even listen to him sometimes) but he's all I have in the way of family.

I rolled out of bed and looked up at Rory who was standing with her coffee staring out the window.

"It's not good for you you know Ella," she said absent mindedly.

I snorted, "Look who's talking! Anyway how do you manage to be so lively in the mornings?"

Rory winked at me, "medication."

I swore and fumbled around for my bag. "The only medication for a hangover is more booze." I said, pulling out my hipflask and taking a long swig. The burning liquid cut down my throat and immedaitely my head started to relax, the horrible buzzing noise so frequent with hangovers receeded.

"How's Dylan?" I asked, suddenly remembering more clearly the events of the previous night. ROry looked worried but didn't answer. I bit my lip, Dylan had struck me as always so quietly strong, you know one of those delicate Rose bushes that makes you bleed if you so much as touch it. But Dylan was the only one bleeding.

"Shit, Isaac," I mumbled as I remembered for the second time that morning that I'd dumped the poor bloke.

"Ah, yes, now what's going on between you and him?" Rory asked interestedly

I shook my head, "No, we haven't had sex, or even come close! I'm trying to keep it on the friend radar. I haven't really got many just friends."

Rory frowned at me.

"Not many guy friends," I amended quickly, "I've slept with, and will sleep with again, most of them. Anyway, Isaac's too good for me. Don't get me wrong he's cute and everything, but I don't think he'd be able to handle the fact that his 'girlfriend' is a complete loose rocket who'll try anything and anyone!"

I smiled ruefully, almost sadly, but I knew I'd never do anything about it; I was a lost cause, doomed to party myself to death chasing the thrill that dissappeared months ago.

"So I think we'll just stay friends for now."

Art book? Check. Umbrella? Check. Spare contacts? Check. Asparin? Check. Dark tinted sunglasses? Check. It was amazing how one night out and a happy-handed teacher could lead to two nights of internal pain and self-condemnation. I don't think I remember the last time that I rejected the world so completely. It might have been when I was kicked out... Or when Cael told me he didn't love me... But then again... I don't think even then I felt so... Scared? Alone? Broken?

All of those things?

After everything though... I guess I just wasn't ready to face the others. Especially after they did so much for me. I was such a mess. For christsake I'd basically been carried home because I was so pathetically weak... So much for resolution? At least I hadn't cried. I hadn't broken that promise yet. And I wasn't contemplating doing anything stupid. I just didn't want to deal with life or anything related before... I just...

I don't know... For some reason the radio was playing 'Where ever you will go' by The Calling in between some babble about a crime commited in god-knows-who-cares... I found myself cringing slightly. I remembered learning it on the guitar back when I really used to play... And I remember the way I used to be able to just play it. Without thinking. Without trying. I'd listen to a song and just... Even on piano once I'd heard it a few times...

But now everytime I pick up my old aria I just... I'm reminded of him. That's something I don't want. Not at all. Not now. I'm not ready to face him or anything he entales.

Catching my eye in the mirror that hung beside the door I realised, yet again, just how awful I looked. My eyes were bloodshot and tired, my dark hair falling in damp tendrils across my too pale face in an almost gothic manner. I personified Death. Which, honestly, wasn't the look I was going for. I ran an hand through my hair, pressed the sunglasses to my face and glanced back at the mirror again. A little better. If it wasn't so against policy to borrow Rory's bronzer I probably would have. Anything to hide how ill I looked.

Maybe if I washed out the black and blue hair dye and let it return to it's usual gold blond colour... Rory had liked the blond hair almost as much as she had grown to like it's current look. I wonder what the others would think...

That's one of the things I hate about living alone. Not being able to ask people what they think about this idea or that... Or maybe I only missed it because I'd never really been able to ask anyone until now and finally I had the option and she wasn't there. So along side the lonely feeling of waking up alone, the misery of realising you've run out of food and don't have enough in your wallet to buy anything as well as hearing the voices of everyone else with their partners... those were all my hates of living alone.

Though sometimes it's alright I guess. I don't mind it. I like my solitude. I don't know what I would have done if I'd been living with people this weekend... Probably shot them and myself in a hung-over fit of 'passion' as the people here seemed to call it. Crime of passion my ass, when you kill someone on purpose, you kill them on purpose. Unless it was self-defense.... Urgh where was my brain off too this morning?

"Dylan?" There was a quiet rapping on the door and a muffled, "Please let me in." From Rory who I knew would be on the other side with two Americanos (with-extra-shot) from Starbucks. I smiled slightly and padded, still bare footed to let her in.

She looked cold. The rain was at it again. I loved the rain... It made me feel oddly happy... Maybe it was the romance that had some how formed in my art that always seemed to begin in the rain. Hernan Bas really knew how to inspire and when compared with the rest of the Saatchi Gallery in London.... I sighed and realised that Rory had brushed passed me into the kitchen.

She frowned at me when I followed. Her eyes travelled down the fade grey skinny jeans I'd ordered from Topshop and across my black shirt that my sister had given me for my birthday. Obviously my cousin was thinking. Considering the outfit as carefully as only she could. After all it was thanks to her that nothing in my wardrobe was now complete revolting, nor embaressing or too 'fucking ridiculous' as she had said about countless artifacts I'd been sent by one of my other aunts from Camden. It's weird to think all my extended family is across the pond...

"Well what's wrong?" I asked her with a wry grin as she finished her inspection without comment, just a little look.

She shook her head, "Nothing."

It was my turn to frown. She didn't sound like her happy self. Was she... still taking her medication? What was wrong?

"What happened to Ella?" I asked, trying to break the silence and recalling a voicemail message that had the two of them giggling down her phone asking how I was and whether I wanted their company.

"She had a class this morning. Ours isn't until..." She looked up, her usually warm eyes glazing and considering the cieling midway through her sentance.

"Ours isn't until 1150 Rory..." Now I was worried. Last time she was like this.... But she wouldn't be now. She was just getting better. She hadn't had a problem for a while now. Why now? "But we're meeting Kano and Loki for a brunch at L'Ouragon. I presume Lee's coming and I think he's bringing Mel Crevas with him. He seemed to want to introduce her in hs message yesterday."

I'd had calls from all of them. Loki's had been quite simply reflective of him and Lee's had bubbled and worried and expressed concern to no avail, often becoming distracted as he spoke for over ten minutes on the tape recorded. And of course Kano... his message, simply asking how I was and saying if I need to talk I could reach him on his phone most of the day... Well that had calmed me down after staring at a blank television for nearly two hours.

"Yeah. Well we should get moving right?" She asked with a half-hearted smile.

Off to see the others. The friends I'd never known before Rory came into my life... and suddenly I could nod and offer her my arm in a mock rendition of a gentleman's bow and say, "Yup. Off to L'Ouragan."

I could look on the brightside today... I didn't have english... I had art with Rory then a Classic's lecture so everything would be okay. Rory just hadn't had her usual medecine-coffee buzz hit her yet.... Of course... That was the problem for sure....

"Can't I have some of that money I asked you to save me?" Loki pestered as Kano changed shirts for the third time.

"No, you made me promise not to give you any more of it until next month. Now, is this shirt acceptable. I'm getting sick of changing." Kano glared at Loki who'd objected to the last two shirts.

"Well, if you wouldn't try to wear sweaters when it's hot out," Loki stared at him. "Is that really a striped polo?"

"I guess, so?"

"Well, it just seems wrong on you..." Loki continued staring. Kano shook his head and picked up his bag.

"Look, if you can't tell me what's wrong with it I'm wearing it. I really don't care about clothes." That was at least half true. Kano knew there were huge problems with his wardrobe. For one thing, he'd never bought a single piece of clothing for himself in his life.

"I just didn't know you were a nerd, that's all," Loki followed along, full of energy.

"I'm not," Kano replied, "I'd need good grades for that. Unless I'm a music nerd."

"It's not the grades, it's the shirt," Loki tugged at the collar.

"My aunt gave it to me," Kano shrugged. As far as he was concerned that explained everything. The fact that he wore it with a faded pair of blue jeans only meant that he was dressed. That was the point of clothes right, to cover the body?

"Doesn't mean you have to wear it," but Loki was pretty much done with the topic. Kano could tell both by his tone and by the next thing he said. "Maybe just ten dollars?"

"No," Kano replied, knowing full well that a part of Loki trusted him to keep the money he'd saved safe for him.

"Five?"

"Stop pestering me Loki. You gave me the money, you begged me not to let you use it too quickly. I'm not going back on my word. You can't even have a dollar of it." Kano turned onto the sidewalk to L'Ouragon. Why did he feel nervous all of a sudden? Did he really look like a nerd? He stopped and looked in a store window at his reflection. No, he didn't look like a nerd. He looked like a train wreck.

"But how will I eat brunch with no money?" Loki asked, looking into the window too. "Is there someone in there we know?"

"No," Kano moved on. "As for how you will eat with no money, you will mooch, as you usually do. Don't worry Loki, I'm sure someone will feed you." He sighed, hoping he wouldn't be the one again. It wasn't that he was broke, his father gave him money regularly for school. It was more that no one person ought to be responsible for feeding Loki in any way. Loki could eat until anyone was broke.

As soon as they entered Kano's eyes went to Dylan. He and Rory were sitting at a large table in the back with Lee and a girl he really didn't recognize and wasn't all that interested in. Rory looked down, a state he'd never seen her in. It seemed natural however, with how up she'd been before. To Kano's thinking Loki was the unnatural one, always up, never truly down. He was pretty sure Loki hid a lot.

None of that mattered however. What mattered was that Dylan was there, and although he wasn't right yet, he was better. Kano went straight to the table.

"Hey, Kano, Loki, this is Mel," Lee said immediately, "Mel, this is Kano and Loki." Lee seemed to be in good spirits. Kano glanced at Mel, nodded to her without comment, then turned his eyes back to Dylan. Loki took and kissed her hand. One really never knew what he'd do next. Mel blushed.

"It's very nice to meet another beautiful lady," Loki said with a grin. Then he moved a chair between Rory and Mel and began chatting away. Good, maybe they would buy him brunch, Kano thought as he sat down next to Dylan.

"How are you?" His voice was soft and intense, full of genuine concern. Dylan's eyes widened into a quick deer in the headlights look, which he covered quickly.

"Fine, I'm sorry I was so much trouble." He looked down at the table.

"It wasn't your fault." Kano stared at him, "You do know that don't you?" Dylan looked at Rory instead of replying, and his face showed obvious concern. Kano's eyes followed his.

"Rory, are you... did you take your medicine?" She was slow to answer. When she did it was to say, "Sure I did Dyl, least I think so. I'll be right back." She stood and wandered to the ladies room. Dylan looked after her, obviously worried.

"Is something wrong with Rory?" Kano asked. Loki was the first to answer, dropping his conversation with Mel to say.

"She's just gone to the ladies, that's all. I'm sure she's just tired. She stays up late a lot. If I did that I'm sure I'd be tired all the time. Don't you think Lee?" Lee smiled.

"I get pretty tired when I stay up late." It sounded to Kano like Lee wasn't in the habit of staying up really late as often as the others. He found himself smiling. Then he stopped as one glance at Dylan said that he was still very concerned.

"Does she have some sort of illness? You mentioned medicine." Dylan shook his head.

"She's been a lot better lately. I'm sure it's just an off day," and he smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

I kept my attention on the food, and what I might be able to squeeze out of people. I was so hungry I didn't know what I was going to do. I looked around the table and settled on Kano, who wasn't even looking over at me. What was that? Why on earth would Kano be so... so... oh why hadn't he given me a single dollar? I sighed and looked down at my hands and just sat there for a moment, as my stomach growled. I didn't even get embarrassed, it happened to me so often I couldn't feel the shame that was supposed to come from being that hungry. I put my head on the table in depression. Mel looked over at me and gave me a small smile.

"Hungry?" she asked, and I nodded, then shrugged.

"I'm broke, and Kano won't lend me anymore money," I said, pouting slightly. Kano glanced over at me finally and snorted so softly that probably I was the only one who even noticed. I rolled my eyes and mumbled, "'Course he did get me breakfast the other day, and he took me to a buffet, so that was really nice of him." Mel smiled at me, and then at Kano.

"He's a good friend, isn't he?" she said softly and Lee looked over at us and nodded.

"You can kind of tell that they've known each other for a while. They seem to talk without speaking sometimes." Hmm... that was interesting, did we?

I looked over at Kano, who was looking at Dylan again and I knew he was worried by the way his brow was creased ever so slightly. I nodded at him once and Kano glanced my way, glanced at Dylan, and glanced at where Rory had gone. I shrugged and shook my head. I didn't think she was in too bad of a state, I really did think she was just tired, even if Dylan was worried about her.

"See," Lee said, pointing at me, "that's what I mean." I looked up at him and then around the table, where Mel, Lee and Dylan were all staring at me. This time, I blushed.

"What?" I said, lifting my head and looking at them. Lee was grinning and Dylan was looking at Kano as though trying to decide something. Mel was just smiling softly.

My stomach growled, and Lee laughed. "Perhaps we should get you a sandwich Loki, or you might just die from hunger right here."

"I got him something," came the voice of Rory, who was back from the restroom, and had a large sandwich on a plate in her hands, complete with chips. I gave her my most grateful smile, which seemed to make her lips curve up a bit. She put the plate in front of me and I started eating right away. See, I said to Kano, there's nothing wrong with Rory, she's just tired. Kano looked away from me to Dylan and started talking to him softly again, and I just shrugged, focusing on my food for a few moments.

"So, Loki, what are you going to college for?" Mel asked me and I glanced at her.

"Music," I said instantly, taking another bite of the sandwich. She nodded.

"What's your major?" she asked, and I shrugged.

"Music," I said, instantly again, and she gave me a small smile.

"Minor?"

"Music." She looked at me in confusion.

"Okay, there's something I'm missing here," and Rory chuckled.

"I think he's not got a major or minor," she said her eyes flashing in humor briefly. "I think he's just taking classes, am I right?" I nodded.

"Music classes," I said, swallowing the last bite of the sandwich and downing the last few chips. "All music classes."

"Oh," Mel said, looking at Rory, as though trying to get some idea of what good it would be to have just music classes. Rory shrugged.

"What's your favorite class?" Lee asked and I turned to him, licking my lips.

"Music?" I said, somewhat confused. Which class should be better than the rest? Lee laughed and shook his head.

"I think this subject is a bit worn out now," he said. I shrugged and stretched.

"That was good food," I said, and looked around at the others, all of which laughed at me. I wondered if I should be embarrassed and smiled at them.

"Loki," Kano said, finally looking at me. I blinked at him.

"Yeah?"

"Go, or you'll be late." I blinked a few more times and then looked down at my watch. I had class in twenty minutes.

"Oh crap, I forgot!"

"I know," Kano said. I got up in a flash.

"Sorry guys, I've got to go, see you again, just tell Kano when!" and I dashed out of the place in a moment, realizing that if I didn't run, I might really be late.

Ella sat in one of her med. classes (she didn't know which one and never listened anyway)staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the pounding in her skull. The teacher was droning on about some boring body part which Ella had absolutely no interest in whatsoever and all she could do was watch the clock and wait for the seconds to tick by. Finally the end of the lecture came and she charged out of the room so quickly that she bumped into someone, knocking the books from his hands. She looked up to see Isaac in front of her.

"Oh shit," she saiod helplessly, "I'm sorry Isaac,"

"What for making me drop my books or dumping me last night?" said Isaac jokingly and Ella's face flamed to match her hair.

"Oh I'm so sorry Isaac, here let me make it up to you, I'm going out tonight, a new club over the other side of town." Ella fumbled around in her pocket for the scrap of paper a friend had written the name on. Finally she pulled it out and squinted at the scrawled writing.

"Bridge," she said, "It's called the Bridge, want to come?"

"Sounds great!" said Isaac smiling, "though I'll have to check, niggling feeling I've got something on tonight. I'll catch you later."

He smiled and waved. Ella waved back and moved on, she decided to skip her next class and go to L'ouragon, the others would probably all be there so it was immediatley more interesting than anything the college could offer. She wondered about Isaac's reply, did he genuinely have something on or was he trying to tell her nicely to leave him alone? Ella shook herself, she was being silly, why did she care anyway?

Loki had gone. His crazy, food-music love that had brightened up their conversation was gone off to indulge in the latter. But he was happy. Everyone seemed to be getting along quite well. Mel was even enjoying herself from what he could tell and he hadn't been sure that she'd fit in as easily as the others because she was just that little bit different from them. There seemed to be a rift between her and Rory that he hadn't expected but then again Rory was unmistakably tired today, she almost seemed unhappy but he was sure that couldn't be right. She didn't seem the unhappy type... Then again... Dylan seemed worried.

Dylan. He smiled as he looked up at the dark haired artist and saw his eyes flicker up to meet Kano's and back. They had to figure out that attraction between them because there was no way that after Friday night that there could possibly be any doubt that at least a little spark was there between them. And Kano couldn't stop checking on how Dylan was. Or checking him out. He wasn't sure which. Lee smiled to himself. He was going o figure out a game plan and get them together. Hopefully some of the others would see it too.

"Oh my god, thank fuck I found you!" Ella skimmed her way into Loki's abandoned seat. Her skin was flushed from the chill in the air that had descended over the weekend and her hair was wild in a manner that made her look like she'd been running through a gale. It looked quite cool actually, "I'm in dire need of a double shot expresso and a good laugh, my head is killing me." She said with a laugh.

Was she always hung over? Lee stood up to go see if he could buy her what she wanted. After all his feet were going numb because of the way he was sitting and he wanted to stretch his legs. Ella sent him a relieved smile, "Double shot expresso. What about the rest of you? Want anything else?"

"I'd love another latte." Mel said after a slight pause.

"I wouldn't mind one of those blueberry muffins if you're buying." Rory added, looking up with an odd expression on her face, "I havent had one of those in ages."

Lee nodded and noted that Kano and Dylan weren't listening to him. Makybe they wouldn't need a hand to get them together. With a slight shrug he picked his way between the tables to the counter.

*

"You guys do art right?" Mel was talking again when he sat back down and handed out their respective orders.

"Yup. We don't always do the same sort of stuff but we both do art." Dylan was looking more alert as the topic changed to something that he enjoyed.

"Like what?"

"Well Rory's the more creative one I think. She can just turn her hand to anything and voila," Dylan spoke with a grin that made Lee smile, "I just sort of potter and doodle."

"You're kidding right? Dylan you're incredible at portraits and all that stuff." Rory had perked up a little too though she was picking at her muffin without a smile, "He's incredible. Since he gave up playing music he's been completely dedicated."

"I like drawing people. I love drawing things that live and breathe and all that. It’s the inanimate stuff I just can’t do.”

“Whereas I’m the complete opposite.”

Rory was obviously just tired. Why was Dylan so concerned? Everyone was laughing by this point for no reason other than the banter between them. Kano was looking slightly more thoughtful now as his lips curved upwards slightly. If he was anything like Loki was on the music front, which he gathered he was, he was sure that the question of Dylan giving up music was probably one he was considering.

Mel was talking again, making Lee come back to the conversation instead of people watching. Everyone laughed again except him because he wasn't sure what the joke was but he smiled all the same. Ella knocked back her expresso with a contented sigh.

"Anyone for Bridge tonight?"

"SOunds good."

Rory nodded, looking over to Dylan who's expression became sheepish.

"I thought I might go to Castle Heights actually... It's open mic on Mondays so you get some really interesting stuff playing."

Lee just listened. These people seemed to have such interesting lives compared to him. Until he'd met them he'd only been to parties with his father, usually business parties in dinner jecket in tie. Then again... He'd never had a social life before he'd come to uni here. The whole system was so different. He'd always been controlled by his father, never had any friends of his own. That was why he really appreciated these guys and was also why he was so torn between Bridge, which he knew was reknown for it's raves, and this Castle Heights place...

"Where's Castle Heights?" Mel asked from beside him.

"83-11 Northern Boulevard." Dylan smiled at her, "It's in Queens."

"Sounds good actually." Mel smiled at Dylan. Was there something there? No he was imagining things this time.

Oh dear his mind really was going awol.

And Rory had closed up again over her muffin. Dylan going back to looking worried. And brunch he realised was coming to an end.

After reading the address over and over again, Isaac put it in his pocket and headed for his next class. Along the way, he bumped into Elizabeth Sloane. Again the books were dropped and he bent down to pick them up.

"I'm so sorry," Elizabeth said as she helped Isaac with his books.

"Don't worry about it, it's not the first time this has happened today. And I doubt it will be the last." He smiled, and she smiled back at him. Isaac thought about something for a minute.

"A bunch of people are going out to the new club tonight. Maybe you've heard of it. Bridge?"

"Yeah I've heard of it. What about it?"

"Well, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to join us."

"I'd love to."

"Alright, I'll see you there." Now he had to go tell Ella he was coming. But he didn't think he should mention that Elizabeth was gonna be there.

Mel: "Thanks for bringing me along and introducing me to everyone," I said quietly to Lee as people started to pick up their bags.

"Hey hey," he replied with a stunning smile and a swish of his crazy hair, today styled to hang over one eye, "that's no problem. It was about time you met the gang anyway."

"Yeah, well, thanks." It was nice to be sitting with a group of friends, work never really left much time for socialising outside of sitting around in shoots. "So are you going to Bridge it up tonight, or are you up for coming to Castle Heights?"

His expression became comfused. "Bridge it up?"

"Sorry," I felt the beginnings of an embarrassed flush hit the back of my neck. "Left over slang from parts of south london. It's not great."

To my suprise, he laughed. "It must be cool travelling around in Europe, that's one place I never really went..."

"To be honest, it gets tiring. It's nice to be able to study and settle in one place for a while." Everyone was on their feet and starting to leave. I caught a glimpse of Rory still sat at the table, staring at her muffin through the flurry of jackets. "Well, have a good time tonight, what ever you decide. It would be nice to see you at Castle Heights though."

I missed his reply as I turned towards Rory.

"Hey." I pulled a chair up to join her at the table. "Aren't you heading off too?"

She looked at me, and I was startled by how intense her gaze was when she finally focused on me. "Well, yes. But I haven't finished my muffin yet."

"I'll wait with you if you like?"

"No, it's ok." She looked towards Dylan, who was waiting for her by the door. "I'm not that hungry any more anyway."

We stood up, and I linked my arm through hers as we walked towards the door. Smiling at Dylan as he held it open for us, I asked "So is anyone else actually coming to Castle Heights tonight or not?"

Was anyone elsse coming to Castle Heights? I wasn't sure.... I knew that I normally went with Rory and that she probably wasn't coming along. I had hoped that maybe Kano or Loki might have been interested seeing as they were so into their music but I wasn't sure any more. So instead I smiled at Mel with a shrug,

"I really don't know," I said, considering the fact that before Rory had comeinto my life I had used to go on my own or with Cael and I'd even played there once or twice before I stopped playing... "I was just going to go on my own if no one else wan't to come." I laughed now and shrugged, "Anyway if Ella's going to Bridge I'm sure others are going like Isaac or that friend of his... Watshername.....?"

"Elizabeth?"

"Yeah that one!" I grinned as name was set to face with Mel's general knowledge of the people we walked past everyday and never really spoke to. Lack of opportunity seemed to strike quite often.

Mel nodded and we headed outside after the others, "Lee?" She directed the query at the half-oriental oddball and the younger teen just gave us a lopsided smile that was so innocently boyish I could help but smirk.

"I think I'll come with you guys. I don't feel like jumping around to techno-trance-ga-ga."

We all chuckled at that, including Rory who had linked arms with me without my noticing. I frowned as I looked at her. She still had good posture but her head wasn't raised high and her eyes were watching the feet of the black heeled shoes infront of her. She wasn't smiling. She wasn't being goofy or loud and she wasn't asking me to carry her or her bag or anything. I knew she'd been on a high recently but just hadn't expected her to become low aftewards.... Just assumed she'd go back to being sober but happy.

Was it something I hadn't done? Had I missed something whilst I had been holed up in my appartment? I must have. I should have kept a better look out for her. She couldn't do this again.

"Definately going Bridge?" I asked her quietly.

She glanced up and nodded, "Yup. I want to rave."

"Fair enough." Mel had a nice smile. She would be amazing to draw... That classic sort of look made my fingers itch. I looked over my shoulder to see Kano with Ella talking quietly. I felt a symaltaneos twitch in my hands and a swarm of jealousy which I instantly chose to ignore. No matter what I think I thought at Coney Island... There was no way someone like Kano would need or want a curse of nature lik myself.

"Wow awkward turtle here guys!" Lee suddenly piped up nervously, making a strange gesture with his hands.

Mel groaned and I heard a similar grunt from Ella behind us who also giggled lightly, "You're not meant to say that!"

"It wasn't really awkward til you said it." Mel added to Ella's statement.

Lee had the decency to look sheepish and I thought I saw amusement flicker over Kano's impassive face.

"Why don't we try and meet back here at about four thirty to finalise plans." Rory suddenly said with a small bout of enthusiasm.

Was I overreacting?

"Sounds like a plan, my dear!" Lee darted over to Rory's other side with the puppydog face he seemed to adopt so naturally.

"Yeah. Sounds alright. I'll bring Loki too."

I nodded as Kano spoke up and fond myself smiling. I really did hope he'd come. Which was when I saw a familiar head of hair, a familiar face and I knew I had to run away now, no matter that I would be early to class, because otherwise I'd breakdown again.

I grabbed Rory's hand and tugged her forward with a burst of speed, "Shit Rory we're going to be late. Sorry guys got to dash!"

And pulling Rory after me, I left a slightly dazed group of people behind, just so I could avoid my most bitterly kept secret.

Kano turned his head and looked behind himself as Dylan dashed off. He'd seen someone or something. Then again Kano could have been imagining the look in Dylan's eyes. No, he really didn't think so. Everyone behind them seemed perfectly fine, so Dylan didn't have the same effect on whoever or whatever had spooked him. He shook his head and sighed. Dylan was definitely complex, but not in a bad way. At least for the moment he didn't feel it was a bad way.

He took his time getting to class. Fundamentals of Musicianship was every bit as boring as it's name implied. It didn't help that his particular class seemed to contain more than its fair share of obnoxious idiots. These were people who thought that if you didn't want to play in a famous orchestra or sing opera you shouldn't major in music.

The worst part was that when Sano chose to disagree one of them had labeled him as immature and naive. Now whenever he answered a question in lecture a ripple of giggles would traverse the room. It was worse than going back to high school.

What bothered him most was that he suspected he could play circles around most of them. Not a single one of them were in his Advanced Keyboarding class Level 2. To him this meant they were taking the usual freshman coursework which included Beginning Keyboard I. At least he'd avoided that. How boring it would be.

He arrived in the classroom just in time to take his seat before the lecture began. Then he fought off drowsiness for the next couple hours, avoiding his classmates on breaks. After class he hunted Loki down.

"We're meeting the others at 4:30 to tell them you and I are going to Castle Heights tonight," he said in matter of fact tones.

"Oh? I thought it was Bridge tonight. Isn't that where everyone's going?" Loki's stomach growled, "hey Kano, I'm hungry, can you loan me a five?"

"No, use your food card. That's what you bought it for." Kano changed direction, heading to the exit closer to the Student Union. That was one of the places a food card could be used.

"But the cafeteria's so far away," Loki complained. "Can't we go somewhere closer?"

"No," Kano walked in long strides, so that Loki had to walk quickly to catch up.

"My stomach is growling," Loki turned big pleading eyes on Kano.

"Good thing we're going to the cafeteria then." Honestly, some days Kano felt like he was babysitting not talking to a friend. Loki made an exasperated noise.

"Fine then, why Castle Heights? I thought everyone wanted to check out Bridge." Loki turned around so he was walking backwards and facing Kano as he spoke.

"Castle Heights sounds more interesting. Be careful Loki, when you do that there's almost always a disaster."

"There is not, you're exaggerating." Loki stuck his tongue out. "What makes Castle Heights sound so interesting."

"It just does. If you'd rather go to Bridge then go." Kano reached out a finger as if to push Loki's tongue back into his mouth and Loki stopped sticking it out.

"No, I just feel like there's something I'm missing that's all, and leave my tongue alone."

Kano grinned, "then don't stick it out where people can get to it. You might loose it one of these day." He opened the door to the History building. It was faster to go through it than around.

"Oh hey," Loki began grinning, "you won't believe what happened in class today." Kano listened as he babbled on and on, or at least he half listened. He was looking forward to spending a bit more time with Dylan that night. Maybe they'd get a chance to talk. Of course the problem was Kano never knew exactly what to say to anyone and that got worse if he actually liked them.

As they left the history building Loki was walking full force backward, missed the curve in the sidewalk, "Loki watch..." and ran into the bushes that edged it, "out." Kano had known something like that would happen.

"Ow," Loki took Kano's extended hand and pulled himself out of the bushes. "So then..." Kano shook his head, barely a pause and Loki was back to his story like nothing had happened.

"Uh huh," Kano nodded glad that Loki was no longer walking backwards in front of him.

I walked with Kano to meet the others and continued to wonder why it was that Kano wanted to go to Castle Heights instead of the Bridge. It seemed rather odd to me, so I decided to try to get more out of him again.

"So..." I began, and Kano turned to me.

"You said this looked fine Loki, don't tell me you're changing your mind," he said warningly. I glanced at his faded t-shirt and slightly worn out jeans and nodded.

"Yeah, you look good in that," I said, focusing on it really for a moment. I'd loaned him one of my pairs of jeans, because honestly I couldn't imagine him in anything other than that where we were going, and the effect of his ancestry with those clothes was rather good. I'd braided a few small strands with feathers in his hair, effectively pulling the hair away from his face so he couldn't hide behind it, and I liked the way it turned out. "In fact, you look kinda hot," I said, looking away from him and paying attention to the ground for a moment. "But that wasn't what I was going to say." I glanced at him just in time to realize I might have said something embarrassing, but I didn't know what, as his face was rapidly going from light pink back to it's normal color.

"What then?" he said, somewhat snappishly.

"Well," I wondered if this was a good idea afterall, "I wanted to know why Castle Heights?"

I could feel Kano rolling his eyes. "Because I said so Loki," he said finally. I rolled my eyes.

"I see," I said sarcastically. "That makes perfect sense."

"Just drop it," and his tone left nothing more for me to try to divine. I realized that he was incredibly closed about something, and I wondered what it was. Perhaps I would find out what when we made it to the gathering.

Which we did a moment later, Lee was there, Ella and Mel as well, but neither Rory nor Dylan was there. I waved enthusiastically and almost hit someone passing by in the face. "Sorry!" I said as he glared at me and dashed off.

"Hi!" Lee said, waving less exuberantly at me. "How are you two?"

"Great!" I said, not waiting for Kano to say anything.

"So we're waiting for Dylan and Rory?" Kano said softly, I think I was the only one who noticed.

"Yep," I said as the other three seemed to wonder what I was answering. I shrugged. "So, it's Bridge or Castle Heights, right? The big decision?"

"I think Bridge," Ella said, shrugging a shoulder.

"Castle Heights," Lee said, grinning.

"Kano's for Castle Heights. I don't really know much about either, but I don't think I could leave Kano alone, you know?" I grinned, but the joke didn't go over well with Kano, even if it seemed to make the others laugh. Kano turned dark eyes on me as I smiled, and I felt a stab of annoyance, related to, perhaps, sadness that I didn't make him smile. I wondered why he really wanted to go to Castle Heights.

It was at that moment that Dylan and Rory showed up, and I wondered what had happened to them. Rory seemed totally depressed, and Dylan... well, he looked like he'd just seen a ghost or something. Then I looked at Kano, and I knew, instantly, why he wanted to go to Castle Heights.

Oh, what on earth was it like to want to be with someone? In an instant, I wanted to feel that way. Then my stomach growled.

"I'm hungry," I said, to no one in particular.

"What the hell!?" I found myself being dragged along by Washington Park towards the art studios at least twenty minutes before we had to be making our way there. What was Dylan doing? I could feel where his fingers were pressing into my skin so uncomfortably, "Dylan you're hurting me!"

He stopped abruptly, spinning round to look straight into my face. His hands were on my shoulders now, his eyes raking over me as if trying to remove the finely applied Bobby Brown foundation with his eyes. "I'm sorry. Are you ok?"

"no"

I stared at him before turning my attention back to the slightly scuffed toe of my Viviene Westwood boots that I'd had since the autumn shoot in Paris two years ago. I quite liked what I was wearing today...

"Rory?"

Dylan looked vaguely well dressed today, but the sight of his lanky frame merely welled up tendrils of frustration.. he was really getting on my nerves. I was fine. I didn't need him to look at me as if I was going mad. Or maybe I was just imagining things.

"Rory. Are you alright? What's wrong? Do you-"

That snapped my head up to meet his gaze. I wasn't imaging things. His ragged bag with the macbook in was swept behind on shoulder so only the side that was held together with safety pins was visible from behind him. His hands looked like they wanted to reach out again and check my temperature or something. Just because I wasn't bubblegum and blase all over again today... I glared, the same face I used with my contractor when I didn't want to do something completely unreasonable, like shoot for nike or adidas or something, was being aimed straight at my overly protective cousin.

"I'm fine. I'm tired and I'm in need of some chill time."

"We can go home after class if-"

"No. For godsake Dylan!" I was just so angry. Had I taken my meds today? I couldn't remember. Oh yeah... I'd missed them. They made me emotionless, and painting without emotion was.... "You know I'm going to be tired!"

"What?" He looked confused, black dyed hair falling over his pale face in the way he let it when he didn't want the world to see his feelings.

Why was he allowed to do that when I wasn't? One hand made it's way into my hair that was now far too short for my liking and clutched at the fine blond strands. He reached out as if to move it away but dropped it as soon as he looked in my face.

"The one day I need to relax and you fucked it up!" I burst out. I'd been feeling like this since Saturday afternoon because I'd been so homesick and cold and the parisian that I was doing that shoot for had been determined to work his magic on me. The parisian I'd asked Dylan to help me out with by pretending to be my boyfriend. And the boy had forgotton! He'd left me to try and keep myself safe from the redblooded cock-sure frog that had nearly managed to persuade my agent to allow me to do a nude shoot for the latest mui mui pair or shoes. I sniffed at the memory, "You didn't even think did you!? Going off like that! To dance with those bloody frat boys!"

Dylan looked like he'd been slapped in the face, "I didn't mean to-"

"Of course you didn't! You never do! But the one time I need to relax before that stupid shoot and you balls it up for me! And then you left me to deal with the french bastard on my own when you promised to be there!"

"I didn't think... I didn't try..." He was stammering and looking at me with the far too pretty eyes that made him beautiful and I couldn't bring myself to stand there with him anymore. I was nearing hysterical and I could tell. So I walked passed him, ignoring his attempts to apologise and talk to me until he slowed down and let me walk into art ahead of him. My anger still seething.

I didn't want to go to Bridge tonight at all. I felt like curling up under 300 thread count sheets with my acient teddybear and a punch bag... But Dylan would be there watching over me. What should I do?

My feet stabbed in agony, sharp needles shooting up past my ankles as i pounded the pavement, the jewelled tones of the soles flashing at dylan who dogged behind me like a wretched stray. The pain was good, it reminded me of treking around london having polish guys chat me up and carry around my suitcase to several train stations and a taxi when the circle line closed. I could have crutches in new york and noone would help me. The doors of the college were to the east of washington square and with my furious pace I barely noticed the old red brick building coming into view as I instinctively turned and ran across into the studio.

Most people expect people like me to only obsess over fabrics and designs and people... But I don't. As much as I love them. And as much as I based my last project on the first two subjects, this time I wanted to focus on charcoal and different medias when creating a city. It wasn't thrilling at first glance but so far my project had been going well and today I had decided to draw the view from my flat in pencil and charcoal and indian ink. So I had the photo, the layers of paper... I wanted it to have feeling though... Reflect more than just buildings and streets...

And so into the drawing I tried to pour my emotions, hopeless anger, terrible sadness. Anxiety pushed my aching, graphite-blackened fingers on. And the picture before me developed, and became... Something unrecognisable to the city I was trying to portray. There were the skyscrapers and the road and the crowds and cars and general traffic but it wasn't the city. It was wrong.

I hated it. I glanced around the class room. There was Dylan being brilliant as he painted so perfectly the image of a couple dancing, kicking up sand and surrounded by bodies. It was passionate and you wanted to look at it. I looked back at the scrub I had made.

"My dear! It is so full of expression..." The professor was looking over my shoulder now and I scowled. It was so wrong though, "It is one of your best creations."

So did that mean the rest of my project was... poor?

The new girl was drawing another face similar to many of the ones she had done before. They were good but where was the emotion. She was a portrait artist who couldn't deliver any emotion. But she was better than I was at doing this.

I sat that in solitude and contemplating my resentment over the peice of kitkat wrapper I had used before. It was like a pair of balenciaga boots. A nice design with far too many buckles to be good. I had to stop thinking about shoes. It only reminded me of the shoot I'd so wanted to miss.

Dylan was waiting for me outside of L'Ouragon. I ground my teeth and glared again before walking passed him into our favourite cafe. He did look anxious, worried and for a fleeting moment even scared but I couldn't bring myself to care right at that point.

The first thing I noticed was that there were two more people sitting at our table. That made quite a few people. There was Lee sitting by Mel and Loki just across from Kano looking slightly down for him. There was Ella who was already drinking what looked to be a mocha with cream... And then next to her was Isaac and a girl I didn't know so well but who's rouge head band reminded me of the one Shirley Bassey had worn at Glastonbury festival. What was her name? Elizabeth something? Mel had talked about her at brunch but I couldn't recall a surname.

"Hey guys." Lee waved and ushered us in, offering me his seat next to Mel as he went to nick another one from a different table.

"Hey," Dylan managed a small smile as he drew up a chair next between Kano and Elizabeth, "So who's doing what?"

I noticed how he looked first at Kano, who must have changed his hair because he looked amazing with it pulled back off his face, then to Loki and Lee and the others.

"Well I'm up for Castle Height's to be honest," Mel said with a much more welcoming grin on her face than my cousin's half hearted smile before. It seemed sycophantic to me and i cast my eyes to the table. WHy was everybody annoying me today?

"Same." Lee nodded repeatedly for a few seconds, "I don't much want to listen to club anthems tonight I'm afraid."

"I'm with you on that." Kano agreed in his velvetine voice and Loki simply gave that lopsided grin of his own as he said something about going to buy pie and rising form his seat. He never changed. Never worried. His detachment comforted me in a vague sort of way.

"Is everyone going to Castle Heights then?" Ella looked at me and everyone else in turn. She looked slightly put out but I guess it was up to her what she was doing, "Bridge should be good."

"I think I might chill without the others El. I'm really tired." I said quietly. "I'm just going to go home and fix myself a large G&T"

"What about you and Elizabeth?" Ella inquired.

"I think we'll just go with what everyone's doing. These things are only really fun in big groups anyway." Isaac spoke for both of them as Elizabeth gave a thumbs up over the rim over her coffee mug. She must have ordered a cappucino. They came in the biggest mugs... almost like soup bowls.

With an exasperated laugh Ella flung up her hands, "Ok. Castle-heights it is!"

Maybe Rory was ill. She looked really pale, as if she needed hot chocolate and a disney movie. Lee had only discovered disney a couple years ago when he'd been babysitting one of his boarding school teacher's three year old girl. Now he wondered if his italian-class buddy was doing ok. The group was muttering among themselves, laughing, telling jokes about their day, the usual. He grinned and glanced across at Loki who was tucking into pie with enthusiasm.

"So it's open-mike night?"

"Yup. Monday's always are. It should be good." Dylan smiled at Elizabeth who had asked for the clarification, "I know people who have paed there before. It's generally the best time to go. The most fun."

"You played there yourself once." Rory piped up, though she didn't look up from her coffee which she was frowning at as if the cream had insulted her.

Dylan looked sheepish and shrugged, "A long time ago."

Rory's frown deepened, "A year ago."

Lee was awed. These people were super. He had never met people who had done gigs until he'd come here. Though he guessed Kano and Loki did too. And Rory was smiling for a moment as he passed her a napkin to wipe the dribbled of americano from the side of her mug which he suddenly realised had actually been what she was frowning at. She was really striking. Like Mel. Hang on, he was hanging about with musicians and models... And wild, parting going types like Elizabeth and Ella. And he hadn't even had to pretend he was older or anything... Was his life changing? Since his mum had died... No he wouldn't go there...

Maybe he would never be shelved again. Maybe he would. But he was content to just enjoy this while it lasted.

"Well I'm off." Ella said, putting down her mug, "See you all there round eightish."

"I think I'll do the same. I need to pick up my brother's birthday present." Mel stood up with Ella as the rest of the tables voiced their farewells.

"Oh see ya." He added to everyone else's goodbyes, "Kano, you and Loki aren't that far from my room so shall we see each other at the station?"

Kano and Loki glanced at each other and then nodded, "Sounds fine."

Lee grinned, "Awesome. hey Dylan you're only a couple stops from us. Why don't we all sit together on the train?"

Dylan, who looked much better than he had this morning shrugged and nodded and glanced at Rory and then at the others before he agreed completely, "That sounds like a good plan. I'm going to be off now though. I've a cople errands to do before tomorrow so I'll see you on the train."

Lee noticed that everyone seemed to be readying to go. Draining his coffee he smiled across to Elizabeth, she was really sweet, seemed to like to laugh a lot too. He wondered what she studied at the moment. That went for Isaac too.

It was then that he realised he had forgotten to call his dad last night for the weekly one over.

Shit.

Elizabeth was excited for that night. Though she'd been to almost every club around, she'd never even heard of Castle Heights, never the less been to it. It was sure to be a lot of fun with the load of characters who were going.

Although, Elizabeth was a bit worried that she might lose her head and start drinking, but hopefully she wouldn't get too crazy, but, she'd just have to wait and see.

"Well, I guess it's time to get ready..." She said to herself, pulling out of her thoughts.

Walking around her room, she wandered around in her closet and drawers before finding something fitting for that night. A cute white skirt, a simple purple top, and a striped head band to match.

After throwing on some makeup, and a pair of high heels, Elizabeth headed downstairs. It was almost time for everyone to meet up.

As I got ready to head out, I double checked my outfit. Not that I normally cared what I looked like when going out with friends, but tonight, I felt different. Whether it was a place I hadn't been before, or whether it pertained to Elizabeth or Ella, I couldn't tell.

Something had changed. I walked out of my small apartment and got in my car. I had to go pick up Elizabeth and from there, we would meet up with everybody else.

As I pulled by the curb in front of Elizabeth's apartment, I was about to honk the horn announcing my arrival, but thought better of it. It wasn't gentleman-like to honk a horn at a girl when you arrived. I knew too many scum bags like that.

I got out of the car and headed up to the stairs. As i opened the door, I nearly ran over Elizabeth. I quickly apologised. Then I took a look at her. She looked magnificent. Even though it was everyday attire, for some reason, she made it look radiant.

"You're letting flies in your mouth," she giggled. That was when I realised that my mouth was wide open. I smiled sheepishly and we headed to my car, on our way to meet with the others.

I could easily say that I was pleased Castle-Heights had attracted the most attention. I was dressed to go now, glad that I would be meeting Kano, Loki and Lee at the station. The skinny black jeans I had doned left only the most important things to the imagination and I had managed to remember, miracle of miracles, Rory had told me to do to accentuate my good points... Like the fact that I have slim but not peg like legs and that my hips, though they stick out, make my torso look stronger if I wear off-set belts.So yeah, looking in the mirror like I had that morning, I felt I had made a hlaf decent effort to look good in smasual. I straightened the collar of the grey shirt Rory and I had designed together for her art project, patches and logos sown on over the left hand side. Rory would have liked it. If she wasn't mad at me. She hadn't spoken to me since this morning.

On the plus side though, I didn't look like death like earlier and I hadn't seen that teacher all day and Kano was coming tonight which was the aim I guess. The only thing I was worried about, other than the fact that I had been concerned about whether or not Kano was there, was the place itself. I had some memories there that were too amazing... Christ... I even performed there a couple years ago... When I first went out with Cael. But I was meant to smile because they happened... What was it Cicero said? It better befits a man to laugh at life than lament over it. I didn't want to 'lament' over Cael anymore. Or my father. Or my enforced blackmail.

PESSIMISM! I cursed as I looked at my mp3 player. Dashboard Confessional 'Vindicated'. No wonder I was being morose. I changed the track. 'PS shock the world' lit up the screen. I smiled. That was exactly what I intended to do.

I may be labelled as some kind of emotional, cynical, depressing wreck. But I was ready to remember who I could be... Afterall, since highschool people had been less keen to judge me by my past. Because no one knew me? Probably. I had L'Ouragon now and I had friends.

I ran through their names in my head. Rory then Lee with his crazy hair, Mel with her incredible bonstructure that I itched to put onto paper, Isaac who I had met for the first time today who seemed intersting enough though a tad quiet, Elizabeth who was just so smiley I could not help but like her. And Ella, obviously, raver that she is. Then Loki who reminded me of one of the Lost Boys from Peter Pan and Kano... I didn't know what to think about Kano.

How long did I have before they realised Rory was right to hate me?

I closed my front door carefully, locked it and tucked away the key. There's not so much to steal but what is there is precious to me... like my grandfather's record player and vinyl collection. Then again this part of town isn't as dodgy as where I lived before thanks to Rory's intervention...

Rory... Why was she so angry at me? I recognise the fact that she's on a low... But... I thought of the way she'd dressed in dark blues and greys today, her fashion of wearing clothes that she'd altered herself not showing on the outfit she'd chosen today. She had still looked amazing but the spirit, the vibrant passion I was used to had dulled and she had vacated to the inner musing of her mind.

Usually I don't go to Queens all that much. I used to. I had a band mate who lived there so I'd often visited. Then he had moved to New Jersey, met a girl and given up playing rock music. At the time I had been upset but then I gave up playing too and I was no longer upset at him...

The underground station was almost empty, the late rush hour not yet quite started. The walls seemed cavernous and huge as I stood there waiting for the train. Lee had dropped me a text telling me which number they were on. A tune fled through my head, clear like a bell... Humming it I watching down the tunnel mouth. They always intrigued me... Subways... How had normal men managed to build these things so deep underground? How many had died? Had any? Stupid questions that leaked into the tune. I really was messed up.

"Dylan!" Loki's voice travelled out from behind me.

Spinning I saw where they were waving from the subway door. It wasn't full and I felt a little sheepish that I'd been waiting on the wrong platform. With a slap on the back and a wide smile I settled into a seat by the window across from Kano and Lee and next to Loki. I tucked my legs up to my chin, I was more comfortable like that.

"So what's up fellas?" I asked, drawing out the english left in my accent. That was one thing I had lost, the distinct english in my voice from when I was little. I didn't mind so much, just with Rory around I almost missed it's refined intonations.

"Not much. Lee just discovered that gum on seats is antisocial."

I noticed now how the teenager was uncomfortably sitting on his chair, a frown on his face. He certainly didn't look happy. I laughed slightly and tipped my head back against the seat.

Kano hadn't said anything. Only smiled and nodded hello. I t made sense. Kano didn't talk. I couldn't help but wonder why. I decided to back up the world's oppinion of me though and keep the laughter on my face, smile in place. I wanted to forget how tense I had been feeling lately, but I didn't want to do it with a drink. Not tonight. I grinned now. I was surprising myself.

*

Castle-heights is a normal building, not at all like a castle, in a busy steet in Queens. The walls are the dark, dirty brown of a city wall; the entrance, sheilded by a single bouncer in a DJ, leads down a flight of stairs into a huge, dungeon like basement. However the large grey stone walls that give it it's almost austere look are broken up by black chiffon and strobe lighting as well as low pine wood tables pressed into the sides. The lights now were dim rather than flickering though as lights danced over a stage where a single man was playing a guitar on a stool. The tune was catchy.... The bar was a long bar with cocktail magicians behind it, the hum of the room reverberated from the signs of awe as one barman span a bottle across the tips of his fingers.

Yeah I loved this place. Why had I ever left it?

"Hey there's Mel over there with Isaac and Lizzy!" Lee bellowed over the music. Pointing for the rest of us, I followed his finger to where the other three had saved an area for all of us.

"Evening guys." Loki bounded though the crowd as the rest of us struggled our way through. So we were only waiting for Ella now. Kano, Lee and I finally managed to settle into the surounding seats.

"Tonight should be good. This guy's not the best but apparently there's a nice line up of people wanting to play." Isaac offered up as we made ourselves comfortable.

"Really? Who?"

"Well a couple local legends have turned up and 'What-a-Mug' from college. They're meant to be pretty awesome."

"Sounds cool."

"I thought that girl Jade was playing around here..." Loki mused to himself, "She's meant to have pipes. Right Kano?"

Kano shook his head slightly, "No, she mentioned playing in Queens the other day. Not that she was here though."

"Who's Jade?" I asked. The name rang a bell, but what with the huge number of people swarming through my life at school, it wasn't a very large bell.

"She's a girl from music. I don't think it's her major but she seems alright. A lot of bark." Kano filled us in quickly. His voice was still level, but it carried in a way I knew mine wouldn't even with a microphone.

I realised Ella still hadn't turned up... And I thought of Rory for no reason too... She'd be fine... But maybe Ella had decided to drop in on her instead... The lights went down and up again on a different act. Four people were on the stage. The Droogs... I knew them! I beamed. They were good. I had thought to soon though.

"Fuck! Sorry I'm late." Ella came in with a crash and a fairy green cocktail in hand, "Had to go to the bar first and I ran into a friend of mine." She slumped into a seat with a sigh, taking a sip of the toxic looking concoction, "Good stuff this. It's a green goblin. Strong though."

Elizabeth lent over, "Can I try it?"

"Go for it."

The music started up with the crowd baying and crying out for more. It was huge, the swell of sound as The Droogs launched into something I hadn't heard before. Obviously fans had followed them here. I saw Liz's face relax with the taste of the drink. I smiled and stood, "Who wants what? I'll get this round."

Mel: Castle Heights was dizzying. People and people and people... and more poeple.

"Hi!" I smiled at Ella as she slid across the leather sofa next to me. She looked beneath the table as her feet connected with a red object that shot onto the dance floor. "Sorry! My feet hurt," I apologised red faced as I leapt up to collect my shoes.

In all honesty, my feet did hurt. But the reason I'd taken them off was actually because in the towering red stilletos I'd nicked from my last shoot, I felt a little like the BFG. I'm not a short girl.

As I chased after my lost accessory, I found someone had beaten me to it. Standing up straight to face my shoe-stealer, I was glad of the lack of extra inches in my height. This way, I got to look up into Lee's smiling face as he pressed leather that I couldn't tear my eyes away to look at into my hands.

"Here you go."

He smiled and I was lost. He was looking stunning. I've always had a thing for guys with a sharper, different look to them, and he combined exotic with classic good looks. I'd always felt more comfortable with Lee than I had with anyone else in teh group so far, but until this moment I hadn't realise I fancied him. A lot.

And all of a sudden I wasn't that comfortable anymore. I was feeling hot!

"Thanks," I breathed, turned red and ran back to the sofa where I collasped next to Ella, knocking her bring on the way down.

"Woah!" she laughed as just a little drizzle escaped the glass, "you ok?"

"Fine." I answered.

But actually, I was as far from fine than I had been in a long while.

My key clashed with the bronze disk several times before it connected with the hole and slid into it, creating a muffled clink. I kicked the door once with my shoe, The aluminium spike connecting with the door and leaving a hole shaped mark as I scuffed along the door with the pointed tip of the gunmetal shoe. Stupid shoe. Stupid door. As I entered the hall with it's white carpet and plush blood walls, covered in red jaquard that seemed to glitter with the light from an ancient geisha lamp that my mother had seen fit to throw in my room at the age of 4. She, too, was wearing a red kimono, and this was painted in detail onto the smooth wooden form. Her skin was yellowing with age and chips covered her paint-work, but her perfectly formed lips smirked at me as she stood on my fathers regimental drum.

A mirror, running from floor to ceiling behind her, reflected me accurately and without an utterence of flattery. My face looked pinched. Dark circles were painted thickly under eyes where irises disappeared into pools of blackness that were set deep into my pale face. They mirrored the soft, dark charcoal of my V neck tee. White blonde hair was weighed down to the point where it was plastered onto my scalp and my nose was red and blotchy from the tears that rolled silently down my cheeks and to the corner of my mouth, collecting in the indentation before plunging into nothingness. If a photographer ever shot this his Development solution would curdle.

Resting against the drum was a large oil painting. A black London cab on a busy street. Reflected in the cab was a little girl, about 8, pointing. She was the subject. Her body language was confident and she seemed poised, but her face was lost. It was the eyes. Hours I had spent on those tiny eyes, making them well up with tears but never spill. Anger rose through me like a violent toxin when I remembered that it was Dylan's favorite. I felt my back straighten as I kicked off my shoes, carefully aiming them at the painting. A sickening grin covered my face as I heard a satisfying tear where aluminum spike met canvas and two holes were slashed through the girl and her finger, one shoe ricocheting of the hard drum to distort the canvas further. Suddenly, sadness engulfed me and smothered all other thoughts. I felt numb. That was one of my best paintings. I was going to send it to my brother. I had spent hours preparing. The only thoughts running through my head as I watched tears splash onto the white carpet were those that categorized and archived the incident.

Coughing, I stumbled in bare feet to the end of the corridor and through an archway into the kitchen. Trashed by Ella the night before, packets of green Pringles and dirty plates with crusted on bolognese sauce greeted me from the cheap wooden table. Flowers were strewn all over the table from their original location in a glass vase, sparkling at me from where it now lay on the wooden pew that was pushed against one wall. Three wooden chairs, in various states of dissaray, lined the other side of the table.

"Dylan only cleaned that up from her last decimation on tuesday." I muttered darkly, the thought of Dylan and his strange obsession with keeping my pit clean (and not his) unwelcome to my still smarting mind.

To my right, the kitchen with it's royal blue stone counter tops was spotless, and the child-locked “baby gate” that he had set up for me still stood. When drunk, no one could open it, to the point where Ella had taken to carrying a fridge's worth of stuff to my place after a night out. I still hadn't told her that I had worked it out- a part of me didn’t want to. Mexican tiles gleamed at me with cleanliness as I stumbled over to the gate, leaning my left hand and its brandy bottle on the island that was the fourth wall of the kitchen. With my right I fumbled with the lock, staggering in over the pastel blue and white floor.

The longest wall of counters went from the corner of the room to the door, where it turned abruptly and formed a row of counters overlooking the table, like a peninsula. This short row ended with the baby gate, where an island was located at right angles to it. The Island was fairly long, and connected by another baby gate to the short wall of counters against the other wall of the room, completing the rectangular shape of the area which took up a corner of the big room. A Short whisky glass had been left by the sink, which too faced "Ella's crater", as the wooden table had become affectionately known. I knocked it towards me and then twisted open the bottle.

As I turned on the balls of my feet to tend to the bottle the kitchen seemed to blur. Blues pulsated in time to the roaring headache that I’d developed over the past two days. The colours merged with the reds of the hall until all I could see was darkness, creeping over me like an animal, pinning me down. I felt suffocated. Out of instinct, I blindly grasped at the counter top with my left hand, and the bottle it held plummeted to the floor and shattered until the floor glittered and Burgundy snaked through the crystals like a bloody arctic ocean.

“FUCK” I screamed, crouching to the floor and grabbing a tea towel to staunch the flow of blood. The quick movement made me light headed, an once again I could feel the energy in my body pulsating and withering, rocking back and forth without any balance, random spikes in my fingers and back. I felt pain. At this point, it was impossible to tell where the bleeding was coming from because my lungs felt like they were in a vice, and my hands were trembling as though I had a fever.

My back to the Whitewashed oak counter door, I slid downwards until I was sitting in my grey jersey bubble skirt on the floor in a pool of blood and glass. It seemed viscous, the liquid’s movement was so slow. As I began to close my eyes the pain seemed to go. I could feel nothing. I let my hand rest on the floor, the other still clutching the tea towel like a ball. Pain shot through it in spikes. I lifted it up and examined the palm, but it was blurry. It looked like I was waving. I laughed- Soon I could finally go to sleep. Dylan would tell me off. He would tell me to dress my wounds and clean. But I was so sleepy.

Energy still rocked through me, but it felt like little mice were seesawing on my fingers. Idly, I turned my head and rested it on my left shoulder, and trailed my right hand towards the gat, my fingers ribboning behind my wrist in a delicate motion. My eyes fell in the direction that I was gazing. There was a red light. It was flashing. What was it? It was trying to speak to me. At the back of my mind I heard a memory ringing through my pulsating head. “Carbon Monoxide, It’s dangerous Rory, are you listening?” It was Dylan. Interrupting my nap. In six hours he would send somebody. I had six hours of sleep left. They had six hours to party. Party party. Let them. I didn’t want them. They would wake me up. Dylan would only send one person, maybe two. The rest could party while they came. which would take two hours. Then perhaps another two back. And he would get mad when he heard about my nap. But he wouldn't come, oh no. Too scared. To ruin the party and his new friends. So I could sleep. And Dylan could party.

Why was the door to the boiler open?

I really liked music. There was something about music that made everything else in the world seem unimportant. It was as though music itself was a creature to be loved, adored, worshiped. That was one of the things I loved about Kano, he seemed to realize that when I said I liked music, I wasn't saying it in an offhand way, I meant it. When I told him that music was my life, he knew I meant, if there was no music, I would die. Music was as much a part of my body, my soul, as blood was. Perhaps music replaced the red blood cells in my body, because it seemed more important to me than my health.

Sitting at Castle Heights, and listening to people play, sing and whatever else, I was feeling the similar feeling I had when I was at a gig. It was that euphoric high of being one with music. Sure, some of it sucked, but some of it was amazing. I felt as though this was where I wanted to be, performing here, sitting up at that stage, playing my drums, feeling Kano nearby playing whatever was right for that moment, and knowing the music was going to take me over, run through me, make me complete again.

Music never lied, it never played games with your life, it was pure, honest, perfect. I watched in rapt fascination as the third group of people played, and realized we were better than them, Kano and I. We could do a much better job of playing that song, we should show them how much better we were. I turned to Kano, not even noticing that everyone else was talking, I hadn't heard a word for over 20 minutes.

"We need to play here," I said excitedly, my hands twitching. He looked over at me and shrugged.

"We need a band first Loki," he said, having simply left whatever conversation he had been a part of. I nodded.

"We need to get a band together and play here," I said, grinning, my hands and feet moving in a time that was not what they were playing up there, but what they should be playing up there.

"We would need to run an ad for a band first Loki," he revised his comment. I nodded again.

"I need to play something Kano," I said. I think the others were talking, but I couldn't hear them, I had only eyes for Kano, he was the only one who really understood this need. He finally looked up at me, his eyes meeting mine, and I could see the desire there, the same one as mine. That want to go up and take the instruments out of those peoples hands, and play for them. I grinned. "Can we?" I asked, and he shook his head.

"No Loki, that would be rude."

"Doesn't Dylan play guitar?" I heard someone say, and I turned to him quickly.

"Are you any good?" I asked as fast as my mouth would let me. He looked up at the stage, and went silent for a moment. Just when I thought he wasn't going to answer and I was going to ask again, he shrugged.

"I guess I was good," he said softly, and I realized that I had changed the flow of the conversation. I nodded.

"Wanna be part of a band?" I asked excitedly, and he finally looked at me, his eyes a touch wide.

"Just like that?" he said, almost annoyed, "You haven't even heard me play."

"Just like that," Kano said, rolling his eyes ever so slightly. "Loki is like that when it comes to music. No hesitation."

Dylan looked away from me, and I pouted. "I'll have to think about it," he said quietly. I shrugged.

"Alright, think quick, I wanna go up there really badly." I looked around the table. "Anyone else play an instrument?"

"It's not like you can go up there tonight, I have at least a night to think about it," Dylan said, smiling at me.

"No, Loki is thinking of going up there tonight," Kano said, and I nodded vigorously.

"Most definitely, I wanna go up there tonight." I looked around the table again, perhaps I could get more into the idea.

While Loki tried to find more victims to loop into his ridiculous idea Kano watched the band that was up there. They had six people, a drummer, a keyboardist, a bassist, a rhythm guitarist, a guitarist and a singer. If the singer had been any good Kano might have understood his presence, but he wasn't. From what Kano could hear of their backup vocals any one of the others could have taken up the singing. The singer sure wasn't writing their music either as they had yet to play a single original piece.

Kano looked at Dylan. What was it about playing that bothered him? Why had he stopped? Kano knew he'd stopped because he'd put playing in the past tense. 'I guess I was good,' it sounded like an adult talking about something they'd done as a child, but he wasn't old enough to talk like that.

Kano still thought the whole thing was a bad idea. They had no instruments with them. Of course everyone had been using the provided drum set, but... he felt his pocket, actually he did have his wooden flute and a harmonica, but to make this sound anything like music they would need him on keyboard. That or they would have to play only cover songs which got boring. Kano returned his eyes to Dylan. Was there a way to get him into this? He seemed plenty wild when he was... suddenly Kano knew what would have to be done.

It wasn't really a good idea. The whole thing was a bad idea in fact, but if it got Dylan to play again, and made Loki calm down a bit it would be worth it. Point in fact Kano wanted to do it every bit as badly as Loki. This time he would keep his eyes on Dylan. Kano would not allow anyone to harm him. He would not end up in a compromising position. Maybe it was just a really bad idea, but Kano was going to do it anyhow.

"Loki," Kano said, more loudly than he usually spoke, "let's get Dylan another drink, I think he needs one." First they had to get him away from the group and, obviously, at least a little drunk. Kano really couldn't believe he was being this manipulative.

Loki turned to him, obvious confusion in his eyes. "You wouldn't give me any money!" he said defensively. Trust him to be more annoyed about not having cash than about getting someone drunk.

"That has nothing to do with it, I'll buy." Kano got up and started heading toward the bar, very much hoping Loki and Dylan would follow.

Loki bounced up and grabbed hold of Dylan's arm, "Come on, maybe I can convince him to get me a coke!" Loki said happily, a grin plastered on his face. "If we're closer to the bar, it's more likely."

Kano allowed Dylan and Loki to order, and paid right away. His eyes remained on Dylan as he drank waiting for the right moment and feeling like an ass every time he ordered another drink. He justified it several times by reminding himself that Dylan did not dislike drinking or being drunk. He was not taking advantage of him dammit. Well, not much.

Loki was incredibly happy as he drank his coke, and he often asked Dylan how his vodka tasted, although he didn't want any. When Dylan looked at him confused, after the third drink, Loki simply smiled and said he'd lived with an abusive drunk for a while, and it wasn't pleasant. Kano knew that this was why Loki never got into alcohol much. Kano didn't drink much because he wasn't sure how he would act if he did, and he didn't want to find out. Soon Loki was tapping his hands on the counter, not exactly in time to the drummer on stage, but in time to what the drummer should be doing on stage.

"Let's go play," Kano suggested, and he knew he'd timed it right because Dylan smiled.

"Okay," Dylan agreed and Loki bounced off his bar stool and started moving.

"Where do we go? Where do we go? I'm soooo excited!" He pulled out the drumsticks Rory had given him the first day they'd met. "I wanna bang on something so badly."

"Well, as I see it our only real choice is to surprise them so thoroughly that we get play time out of this. So, at the conclusion of the next song you will walk out and figure out a way to steal the drums. Dylan, you get the guitar, obviously. Can you improvise if you don't know our music or do we need to plan?"

Dylan nodded, shook his head, then nodded, "I should be able to follow."

"Good, I'll get the keyboards and make an announcement to calm any confusion," Kano grinned maniacally. That was the thing about music, it brought out the worst in him, or the best according to some. When it came to music he suddenly remembered how to talk to people. "Let's do this."

Loki bounded up to the stage, and waited, just until the current song ended, then he jumped onto it in such a bold move that the band stopped. All eyes followed Loki. Drumsticks in hand, he walked boldly up to the drum set, standing the incorrect way at them, staring at the current drummer. "Sorry, I'm stealing these," he said, and started flying his drumsticks across it, backwards, creating a lively beat that filled the room. He was grinning madly the whole time.

Kano and Dylan used the normal route to the stage and as Dylan walked up to the guitarist the drummer slid off the seat, with a shrug. "Sure."

Dylan tapped on the shoulder of the guitarist, "I need that," he said matter of fact, looking at the guitar.

Kano stared steadily at the keyboardist. "It's our turn."

"But we get ten more minutes at least," Kano stared at him. "Well, we do." Kano lifted the microphone that the man had used for back up vocals off it's stand.

"We don't have a name, you won't find us on the schedule, and we'll be playing until someone kicks us off the stage," he said, then he began playing the lead in to the last song the band had butchered, "we'll start by fixing this one." He replaced the microphone in it's stand. The keyboardist backed off as Kano's fingers moved across the keyboard in a way his never had. The bassist unplugged and walked off stage, with the singer trailing after him.

"What the fuck is going on?" the singer asked as he walked off, but the rhythm guitarist shrugged and began playing again. Dylan joined in quickly, seeming to really be enjoying himself considering they'd had to get him drunk to get him on stage. He and the rhythm guitarist meshed well with each other and Kano smiled, at least one member of the other band actually knew how to play even if the rest of them didn't. Loki had already moved to take the seat of the previous drummer, allowing his eyes to flit across the drums as he learned where they were in relation to himself. He got right into the music, doing all that the previous drummer hadn't and adding a few more pounds for good measure. He seemed to be flying high on adrenaline and Kano knew exactly where that would lead, to excellent music.

It was when Kano heard Dylan sing that he realized they had to have him when they formed a band here. His skill with guitar was excellent, if a bit rusty, and his voice was... perfect as a lead. There were certain songs Kano's voice would be better suited to, mostly the really dark depressing ones, but Dylan had a wonderful all purpose voice and could sing most anything well.

The realization only improved his playing and soon Kano was leading them from that first song into one of the songs he'd written. Loki gave a sidelong grin and wink at Kano and headed right into it, as though he could read Kano's mind. He tilted the mic in a pause so he could do backup vocals. Loki's vocals were quite amazing if one knew him, because when he sung, he sounded serious, and not like a hyper puppy. It was the only time anyone ever heard his real voice, when he was singing.

Both Dylan and the stolen rhythm guitarist handled the challenge of unknown music well, improvising and quickly adding their own style to the music. Kano's voice was a deep base, haunting. It seemed to echo through a person at the very core of their being. It was useless for more than half the music he wrote.

By the final refrain Dylan joined in the back up vocals, lending his own unique harmony, which worked well. Kano did not pause at the end but led into one more original as he noticed a manager type heading for the stage.

It was to their credit that the manager did not come onto stage until the third song was finished. When asked to leave Kano stood and motioned to Dylan and Loki. "Our time is up," he said in his usual steady, earthy tone.

Loki sighed and nodded, "Yeah, it was great though," he said, stretching and grinning, putting his drumsticks in his pocket. He looked out into the crowd and waved.

They exited the stage to loud applause. Surprisingly the manager only admonished them gently, and suggested they sign up next time. He also informed them that the other band might have issues with them using the guitar as it belonged to the band. Kano nodded, Loki grinned and Dylan glowed. The stage did good things to Dylan, Kano reflected, even if he did have to be drunk to be lured onto it.

As they sat at the table later, Kano wondered why they hadn't been kicked out for that little piece of insanity. Loki was jabbering on about the last song.

"Kano wrote it two years ago, can you believe that? He's been writing music forever. Not me, I just want to play it."

"Kano?" Dylan spoke softly from beside him.

"Hm?" He looked at Dylan. The glow had faded slowly after they'd left stage and now he was looking pale and depressed. "What's wrong?"

"When we go, could you check on Rory? I don't think she's feeling well," he didn't quite meet Kano's eyes as he asked.

"I'll go now," Kano replied, standing.

"No, I mean whenever," Dylan shifted uncomfortably, "you don't have to leave early."

Kano shook his head, "I'm not." He waited for a break in the conversation, then spoke, "Lee, can you make sure Dylan gets home safely? I have an errand to run."

"Sure," Lee grinned, "his place is on the way."

"I don't need help getting home."

"I know," Kano smiled at Dylan, it was a quick smile, easily missed, "thanks Lee."

"I'll come!" Loki offered, but Kano shook his head.

"It would be nice to be alone a bit, you can go back with Lee." He could see Loki's disappointment, but he really did needed some time to himself anyhow. Besides, he hadn't liked the look in Dylan's eyes and he didn't want any harm to come to these people. They were the only friends he had.

When he arrived at Rory's place, the first thing he noticed was that the door had acquired a new dent. Not everyone would have noticed this, and he reflected that it might not really be very important. Kano knocked and waited, then knocked again much more loudly. He didn't know Rory's history, but he knew what it was like to worry about someone.

He'd spent his youngest years worrying about his mother. She was always sick, never well. His father used to get into fights with her about it, he wanted her to relax, take it easy. Kano's mother hadn't been the relaxing type. She wanted to live and living didn't mean slowing down. After the arguments his father always sent Kano to check on her. He smiled grimly as he wondered if Dylan and Rory had been arguing recently.

As pounding on the door was getting him nowhere. Kano tried the door and it opened right away. He needed to tell Rory to lock up at night. It wasn't safe here to leave the door unlocked. As he entered his eyes flickered over the room, he saw shoes thrown at painting or carelessly tossed.

"Rory?" He called out loudly. It would be best if he didn't walk in on her naked or something. When she didn't answer he moved further into the apartment, closing the door behind him. He could smell alcohol, and as he followed the scent he found the kitchen. Kano raised his eyebrows at the sight of the baby gate. Rather than climb over it he opened it, setting it to the side.

"Rory?" There were tiny sparkling pieces of glass on the ground and as he followed them with his eyes he saw the pooling liquid which was soaking into... "Rory!" Wedged between two counters she looked like a broken doll, a toy used and then tossed away lying among broken glance. Tears formed in his eyes, and at the same time he wondered why he was getting so emotional. She was probably just fine, but in his mind he saw the face of an Indian woman. He shook his head, bent over and touched her neck seeking a pulse. Alive, he let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Was she just drunk?

She was bleeding from the parts of her which had been cut by the glass, but not enough to cause her pulse rate to change and he'd noticed it seemed slow. Alcohol could slow it. He put a hand to his head. Now he was getting a headache and he felt a bit nauseous. The smell of alcohol didn't usually do that to him. He shook her a bit.

"Rory?" When she didn't so much as twitch he looked around a bit more carefully. It looked like she'd come over the gate and... the boiler. He moved to it and slammed it shut. Then he saw the merrily blinking light in the carbon monoxide detector. Why wasn't it making any noise? He looked at Rory, he could call 911 or move her outside. She was light enough for him, he scooped her into his arms, no longer worried about the glass and carried her outside. On the outer stairs he sat down with her and called 911. Other people in the building could be in danger, she needed an ambulance.

He cradled her in his arms as he spoke to the woman on the phone. When she asked if he heard sirens and he answered that he did, she finally let him go. He knew he needed to call Dylan, but what would he say? Far in the distance he heard the sirens. Kano dialed Dylan's cell, still not sure what to say. The truth he supposed, at least she was still alive, and that made all the difference didn't it? Yet why had the boiler been open, had Rory done it purposely? Kano very much hoped she hadn't.

It was about two stops before Dylan's that his cell phone went off. Loki was still on a high from playing and kept pestering Dylan about the music which had kept them all amused. Lee had sat back with Mel and laughed along with Loki though he remembered thinking Dylan looked really subdued as the ocversation faultered. Mel was grinning beside him... They had been caterwalling away as the other's had played, screaming support from the crowd because they were so much better than the band before. Kano's voice... Wow that was incredible. Lee glanced at the beautiful young woman beside him...

If he had been older... If she could ever ever ever like him... He sighed. She was absolutely fantastic in ever sense of the word. Her smile, her laugh, the way she could talk about anything from the mundane to more interesting intellectual stuff like they had in L'Ouragan before everyone else had turn up. He really like her. He just knew she'd never feel the same.

But it was out of these thoughts just as Loki cracked a line about a giant beetle that Dylan's phone had rung and the evening came crashing to a studdering jolt just as the train spat them out of it's scratched windowed doors.

"Hey. Is something wrong?" Dylan's voice was soft so he didn't draw too much attention, but it still sounded happier than he had been a moment before. It must be Kano. He had to set them up...

Then Dylan's face, although considered pale before, now lost any semblance of colour. His eyes widened, fear seizing his features and twisting them into a mask of horror and terror. He looked very old, Lee thought as concern wound itself tightly in the bottom of his stomach. Mel reached for his hand, she must be able to feel the fear too... It was rolling off Dylan in waves. But he said nothing just held the phone to his ear, his face drawn and old and pale, eyes wide with the pupils dilated, his mouth open and twisted down in a melacholic 'oh'.

"She... Is she...?"

There was a static mumble from the other end that they couldn't hear. Even Loki looked apprehensive.

"I'll see you at the hospital."

Dylan hung up and began to move away from the group, his movements jerky and unsteady but swift. Lee didn't know if he should follow or not, Mel made his mind up for him, dragging him along after her as Loki loped ahead to catch up with the distraught youth infront.

They were outside the station when Dylan ran into the middle of the road to stop one of the yellow cabs. It didn't seem to matter to him that the rest of the world didn't understand his anguish. Lee just wanted to know what was going on. And so, he gathered, did Mel and Loki as they all piled into the back of the taxi and sat in an awkward silence.

"Dylan... What's going on?" Mel attempted after a moment. but Dylan said nothing, just looked at the skyline which was no lined with heavy grey clouds.

Lee was scared. Really scared. It had to be something to do with Rory. He had seen how close the two of them were. It made no sense for this to be about anyone else. Kano must have been the one to call him.

"Look, Dylan, what's going on?" Loki tried this time and shook the slender arm slightly.

This time Dylan's eyes met theirs. Lee wished they hadn't. The look in them spoke of lonliness, desperation, fear and loss and love.... It hurt just to look in them, "Rory... She may have tried to kill herself. She's sick... She's..." His voice was ragged and uneven. There were no tears.

No one said anything for a moment then Mel murmured, "We need to tell Ella. And Issac and Liz."

The other three had left a couple stops before but Lee agreed. They needed to know. They were just as involved as any of them. Especially Ella. Silence fell again. The next they spoke was to find out if Kano and Rory had arrived yet.

Mel: When we all ran into the hospital, bumping into eachother as we all tried to stay close to Dylan, all I could think of was why Rory would try to kill herself. I know that the modelling business has a harsh repuation, but it's not that bad, even when you're in high street like Rory. And even then, it's more about trying to stay thin, not about actually commiting suicide. Would she really do that?

But then, as we crowded around the reception desk, all asking the questions that Dylan seemed unable to produce, I remembered how strange she had been acting earlier, like she was already halfway out of this world...

"Down the corridor, turn right up the stairs, and then it's the second door to your right," the nurse snapped, looking at us like we were a bunch of idiots. "But you can't all go in!"

Too late, Dylan was already through the large double doors, and be damned if any of us were going to be left behind. We were fast on his heels as he took the stairs two at a time, and then we were at the door...

"Woah woah woah!" The doctor looked tired as he exited the room. Dylan dashed in before it closed, but Doc stood firm. "Two at a time. And there's already one in there."

"Is she ok?" The stricken voice beside me suddenly reminded me of my first night out at Castle heights. Lee's hand was warm in mine, and as I tightened my fingers around his, he squeezed back. Ooooh, curses on me for feeling glad about that at a time like this!!!

"We'll have to see. I'm afraid she's still not responding, carbon monoxide posioning is very serious. If she was exposed for too long, she may be brain damaged, starved of oxygen."

"How serious do you think it is?" Ella appeared behind Loki, pushing at his shoulder so that he would make space for her as Issac and Liz came to a halt next to her.

"Well, it's not a good sign that she hasn't woken up yet. Excuse me, but I have to get her some tests run, I'll let you know more later."

We all looked at him, stunned, as he loped off down the corridor.

Ella bust into tears as Liz pulled her into a hug. "I shouldn't have let her stay home alone, I should have stayed with her, she didn't seem happy today..."

"It's not your fault, sweetie, it's not your fault at all..." hushed Liz.

To my horror and shame, I felt tears well up in my eyes. I didn't even relaly know Rory, but I didn't want her to come to harm. She was a friend, a lovely person. I turned my face into Lee's shoulder and felt him put his arms around me...

"Shall we go sit in the cafeteria until we know more? I don't think kano or Dylan are going to be leaving soon..." Issac looked shaken but he sounded calm.

As one, we moved down the corridor. And when I looked back, the door to Rory's room was still closed.

Now that Ella had been calmed down a little bit, Liz also felt the pain well up inside, and she was almost ready to burst into tears. I took her hand and she laid her head on my shoulder. We kept to about the middle of the group. I didn't say much, except to comfort her.

I kept looking over my shoulder. Dylan was still in the room, clearly very concerned over the whole ordeal. The doctor would probably make him get out soon, so he could run tests. Doctors and their tests. But I knew they were necessary.

So we continued on our way to the cafeteria. Which was good. I was starting to feel a little hungry. I hadn't eaten in almost eighteen hours. And when this happened, I didn't have time to think about eating. But now I could concentrate some, and I realized just how long this night would be.

It seemed to Liz that something bad happened whenever things were going great. A night of fun out at a local club had turned into another trip at the hospital. Liz didn't know much about Rory, but she did know that Rory was a nice person, and no one deserved to be in her position.

Walking down the hallway to the cafeteria, with Issac, left with her own thoughts to ponder, they turned to Dylan. This must be really hard for him, she hoped he wasn't taking it to hard, she knew what it could do to people.

Her thougths were interupted by Issac. "Are you okay?" he asked concern on his face as he held open the cafateria door.

"Yeah," she said as she walked through the door, "I'm fine."

Scyscrapers touched the sky and peirced the purpling clouds, pulling about their stuffing as they scratched along their moving bellies. Blue white paint racing down from the sky, splattering the earth like paint. The folds of buildings in the concrete jungle caught the rain at different intervals so waterfalls poured off rooves and made the bricks glow silver with slick wet. Rivers tumbled hectically through the guttering of the streets, desperately gushing over drains in a hope they wouldn’t be sucked down into the underworld.

Dylan loved the rain. Despite the fact he was beginning to feel numb he stood in the middle of the campus face tilted to the heavens, the sky’s tears making up for the lack of his own. He longed for someone to hold him and tell him it was ok to be so afraid and lost right now.. But he knew no one would... Once upon a time Rory might have been there... But Rory had been in hospital for three days now and no one else would waste their time trying to help a fuck up like him. He had driven her to trying to kill herself. He was sure of it. Even if she wasn’t awake he was sure... She had tried before.... She could easily have done it again.

Shivering he made his way to a bench and sat, feeling his hair sticking to his face with the water washing through. Cool fingers were soothing in the dark behind his closed eyelids. He was a slut. A thoughtless asshole. A stupid little boy pretending to be a man. Pretending he was in control... Why was he being so bloody selfish, his fists clenched. Rory need him so much more. She needed him as much as he had ever needed her... Especially now... But no... He had gone to classes on the third day... gone to english.... She would never have admitted it. That she needed him... Though hadn’t she almost done exactly done that the afternoon before she’d... She was so self-assured when she was happy.... Independent and haywire... But she needed him... They were the pillars they had to lean on because no one else would look out for them.

A bell rang somewhere and voices began to call out in alarm or discomfort. Different cadences blurring through the downpour, complaining about this or that. Someone was moaning about their new Karen Millen jackets being wet. Someone else that they had just had their hair done in Bumble & bumble and now it was ruined. Dylan laughed slightly and opened his eyes. A few glances his way made him bow his head again. Since when had he been so self-concious?

Since you were assulted by you teacher that’s when. Came back the little voice in his head. His shivering was becoming worse. He was freezing. Absolutely-

“Dylan?” A familiar deep voice was above him.

Dylan looked up with a shakey smile, “Hey.” It was Kano. The one who had, from the beginning, looked out for him in that passive way. He wasn’t sure why. He also knew that he was attracted to Kano one way or another and that normally he would have attacked by now... But... He had never before been shy with his emotions... Butterflies were an understatement for the thudding in his chest and hollow sensation in his stomach at that moment.

Looking at his friend’s dry appearence he realised the other boy had an umbrella and a music case slung across his back. He wasn’t beautiful because he wasn’t delicate like that.... Nor was he particularly handsome because he just didn’t fit that prince charming mold. He was just attractive, from the relaxed way he stood to the look in his eyes as he watched your reactions.... Dylan’s smile returned to almost chattering teeth. Kano had managed to make him drunk, give him a guitar and make him play infront of an audience... Anger threatened to sink it’s teeth into him... That had been a dirty trick to play... Especially when he should have gone back and checked on Rory himself but couldn’t because if he’d been drunk and she’d.... This reaction was him just trying to pass the blame. It wasn’t Kano’s fault. It wasn’t his fault at all...

“You’re freezing.” Kano said simply, holding out a hand to help him to his feet.

Dylan looked at his hand, felt the cold, and took it. The warmth almost burning his freezing fingers but he didn’t let go and nor did Kano.

“You really are freezing.” Kano’s level didn’t change but the tone did. Dylan looked away, unhappy that he was worrying people again when Rory was much more important.

“I’m alright.” He said, shivers becoming more pronouced now he wasn’t curled up on the bench. Hopefully his eyes weren’t red...

“No you’re not.” Kano tugged him closer, under the umbrella and into his arm, “let’s get you inside before you get ill.”

“I’m-”

“Don’t even try to say you’re fine.” Kano’s body was pressed against his own side and he looked up sheepishly into the dark blue eyes. Their gazes locked and he was reminded almost painfully of the night at Coney Island and the way they’d danced for whatever brief a moment...

“I like the rain.” He said after a moment, tilting his face to gaze up into the bruised, lilac sky and holding out a hand to catch the little droplets in his palm. Kano must have been annoyed because Dylan found his outstretched hand encompassed by the other’s. Inadvertantly their fingers laced as he was tucked back under the umbrella again, pressing himself under Kano’s arm to seek out warmth. He shivered thinking... It felt good to be held like this. Or at least it felt good to be held by Kano. He wasn’t sure he could tolerate it if it were anyone else at that moment. In fact he was sure he wouldn’t. No one else could touch him these days, much less hold him, with out his urge to flinch away kicking in... except with Rory but she was family.

“Let’s get you inside.”

“But I-”

“Don’t argue Dylan. If we don’t get you inside you’ll get sick.”

“I’m not that cold.” He grumbled half-heartedly. Not minding in the slightest that someone wanted to look after him. But he was still enchanted by the magic falling from the sky, “Look at it.” He almost reached out again but Kano’s fingers tightened slightly around his, telling him not to. That was new. He ought to go check up on Rory... He shouldn’t have left her.

Dylan let himself be led. They were heading towards the main music department space in the heart of the NYU’s Greenwich Village, surrounding Washington Square Park. He had never been there... Not since he had effectively given up music at the end of high school when everything he knew ended.

“Where are we going?” he asked quietly, glancing at the calm face of his friend.

“Somewhere warm where I can fix you up alittle.” Kano shot him a small smile. They were walking down La Guardia Place passed the Kimmel Center now and Dylan was shaking quite badly by this point. Wondering at his foolishness, he glanced across the park they were dashing through, saw the Silver Center for Arts poking up out of the trees.

“Thank you...” Dylan found himself murmuring and Kano tugged him that little bit closer with a small squeeze.

“You’re welcome.”

Dylan wanted to kiss him then. Really, really wanted to kiss him. But he didn’t want Kano to think that was the only way he could express himself as it had done at Coney Island... He was just much more away of the other at that moment. Aware of his warmth. Aware of the way he was holding him. Aware of that peculiar scent of fresh grass and ceder wood and something else that was just him... Everything seemed excentuated in the damp of the air. Or maybe his desire to kiss him was because of the way their bodies were pressed together with their hands entwined.... It made him feel much more complete... Sighing he pushed the thoughts away. He wasn’t going to jepodise this friendship or put himself up for another relationship that was destined to hurt him or give Kano anymore reasons to believe him desperate or...

Or a whore.

There was that little voice again and he flinched slightly at his own concsience. Stupid little fuck.

“Dylan?” Kano was holding open a door for him and he wondered absently when they had stopped walking.

“Oh... Sorry. Thanks.” He said sheepishly and stepped undercover. He felt Kano’s concern as his hand was taken again and he was led to a music room. Music rooms... He smiled to himself, feeling his skin prickle in the heat that he had forgotton how to feel outside. He knew his usually pale skin would flush in the heat change and that his eyeliner had probably run but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Kano was taking off his slightly damp jacket and, to his surprise, his shirt. A simple white tshirt was underneath but he was transfixed by the tanned body of his companion. Feeling himself blush as Kano handed him his shirt and said soemthing abut putting it on and getting himself out of his wet clothes before he ‘caught his death’. Who would have painted Kano as quite so caring?

His cheeks suffused with heat even further as he shed first his thin combat jacket then his even thinner Rocky Horror Show t-shirt off so he was bare from waist up. He wasn’t particularly self-concious, never had been. Sure he was lean but he wasn’t hideously skinny or flabby or anything like that... He had his tattoos which he didn’t mind showing off... But Kano’s eyes kept flicking to him and he was painfully away of how much the other’s oppinion matter to him as he slipped the shirt over his head. Hoping that he wouldn’t have noticed the fresh bruises on his arms and collarbone... He had to admit he was already a little warmer...

“I’d put your jeans on the radiator too so they dry off a little bit.” Kano said as he moved towards the piano.

Dylan knew he would die of embarressment if someone walked in right now but he did as he was told. Glad the marks on his thighs had faded... So he was left in his boxers and Kano’s shirt. His eyes were drawn to Kano’s hands which were warming up doing scales along the keys. He missed music. Prehaps he even owed Kano for bringing him out to play at Castle-Heights. He really ought to go visit Rory... But just looking at her sickly, pale face and bandages on her hands and the wires drawing out of her thin, broken body. He couldn’t look at her... The guilt just ate him alive.

His fingers tapped the floor to match the movements Kano’s on the keys. Drifted over dim remembered tunes with him as he tuned into the music. The piano was slightly out of tune which annoyed him... But the tune Kano was playing was... pretty. It reminded him of Castle-Heights before everything went wrong...

*

They’d played and he’d been eccstatic. When he’d asked Kano to check in on Rory he had done it because he had known she’d want her own space but also that if he’d turned up even smelling like he’d been drinking she’d have hated him even more. He hadn’t expected Kano to call him on the train to tell him that he was taking Rory to hospital because it looked like she’d left the boiler open and been poisoned by the fumes. Everything had floated by in a semi-daze. The way everyone had come to see what was wrong... How for that night he’d slept in the waiting room because he refused to leave when the other’s were told to by the staff.

They had waited in the cafeteria for so long just waiting for them... He and Kano had sat in silence until Kano had left and led the others away for the night. Then the doctors had asked if he should perhaps be considering sending her to a rehabilitation facility so she could sort out her depression. And he couldn't have left... Even though he'd desperately wanted to curl up in bed. Even though the other's all promised that they could always drop him off again in the morning if he wanted to. He wanted to ask them to stay with him. But had known they couldn't possibly...

Ella had dropped by before class. Mel and Lee and Elizabeth had come to visit together, presumably after lessons and they managed to bring him a take-a-way L’Ouragon coffee... Then he’d been told that her mother was coming in that afternoon from England. He’d left then with a respectful nod, not wanting to stay in the same clothes for another twenty-four hours and definately not wanting to meet the aunt that had, last time they’d met, sneered at him for wanting, age ten and a half, to be in a band just like his dad.

He had abandoned Rory so her mother could take over... And he had done it knowing that she would refuse to let him back in.

*

Sighing he pulled his knees up to his chest, shaking his head to fling excess rain from his hair. He was cold still... Though his skin felt over heated. What was wrong with him? He was hypnotised by Kano’s hands as they deftly fled from one tune into another. Something about a musician’s hands... Dylan wanted to push away that last inhibition and... Do what?

“Do you play the twelve-bar blues?” He piped up after a moment, standing and walking over to the stool.

“Yeah...” Kano was looking at him oddly.

“Can you do it duet?” Dylan smirked. He could play piano thanks to his ear, there wasn’t too much technique to it compared to the guitar and he started up a tune, standing next to the other boy and leaning down.

Kano smirked back, “Sure.”

Twelve-bar blues. They weren’t exactly hard if you could keep time and you knew a blues scale. Dylan laughed as he race his hand over the top of Kano’s and then back. This took him back. They began to speed up, every so often, on stretching over the other to hit a note or a chord which made it speed up even further. Tum da de da da ta.... Kano ran all the way down and up again and he couldn’t help but smile as he made his hand match the action in the opposite direction. It wasn’t bad... for complete improvisation. Finally he pulled his hands away and let Kano finish it off. Watching carefully the way the fingers span a web of movement and caused a miriad of sound so quickly that it almost seemed not to have existed at all when it ended.

Grinning he perched on the edge of the stool... It was made for two but he was still cold and damp and didn’t want to make Kano cold and damp too after he’d already done so much to look after him. The smile was returned with a flush of excitement on Kano’s face. It felt good to be back near music. Though he wasn’t sure he could deal with it once he remembered his old songs, the things they used to play...

Because music was the deepest of the arts and deep beneath all the arts.... Someone had said that... Forster? If painting had ever given him the idea of physical flight then music suggested something much more. It was a kind of encompassing of everything else into itself. It revealed the essense, the quiddity of things.... the rainy-ness of rain... the sunniness of sun... Because although the others arts let him feel that, they were still confined by reference. They were all limited by their materials or the moment or... it was just that music with it’s mathmatical laws still managed to trascend itself at the moment of it’s happening... when the music becomes itself. It’s free... it makes itself in the listener... it can be happy and sad and thoughtful and thoughtless... Dylan shook his head and sat back as a silence filled the room after the jaunt that was the twelve-bar blues.

“What were you thinking?” Kano asked after a moment.

Dylan laughed and shivered and dropped his head, “I wasn’t thinking.”

Kano sighed though it was almost like a groan in the sense that it held all the resignation and concern that could be pronouced by the soft expelling of air. He wrapped an arm around Dylan and pulled him closer. He couldn’t help but let the guilt hit him again.

“You must have been thinking something to let yourself get so cold.”

“I love the rain.” But he let himself rest against the warm body beside him despite the guilt. He really was cold, “It’s like magic.”

“You still shouldn’t have let yourself freeze like this.” Kano’s voice was quiet, his free hand spinning a new tune up and down the scales absently.

“I guess.” Dylan shivered again and thought of Rory, lying like the dead in a bed that was too big for her waif generation body, “I ought to check on Rory...”

“How come you left? You didn’t want to before.”

“Her mother was coming. We don’t get along. At all.” Now he felt ready to shudder, “I’m going to be verbally slaughtered if I go visit I guess... It’ll be my fault...”

“You know it’s not your fault though.”

“I guess.” But deep down he was sure that it was. They had argued. He had hurt her. He had, somehow, inadvertently, driven her away and back to this, “Her mother won’t see that though. She tried to kill herself.”

“You dont know that yet for certain.”

“She’s done it before. Tried to kill herself that is.” He wasn’t sure why he told Kano... He was easy to talk to but also he almost needed to tell him...Tell someone... “She’s on medication because she’s had breakdowns and all that y’know. I can’t help think... I don’t know. I thought I could help her stay on her feet and work things through but the doctors think she might need extra care now and maybe... I should agree.”

There was a pause that permeated the air then. Kano’s hand on his arm that had been moving in slow, stroking circles, stopped for a moment. Dylan tensed, expecting to be pushed away and told to get away... Even though deep down he acknowledged how illogical that expectation of Kano was... Then:

“You should probably ask her first about it all.”

Why was Kano so… He didn’t know which word was right… Kano was many things that he didn’t understand… He was calm and smart and rational and yet still passionate beneath it all… It showed in his music... He was incomprehensibly layered, as if he’d been constructed like a jigsaw, piece after piece to make up the man before him… Why was Kano so unassuming? There had to be faces to his friend he had yet to discover and he wondered if he’d ever be able to understand them...

Rory prowled at the back of his mind though. He really needed to see her. Really needed to make sure she was alright. Maybe that woman would have left. She was a foolish, cold hearted woman his aunt, too blind by prejudice to see who he really was. Much like her brother-in-law. His father. Tentatively, afraid of seeing the echoing look of betrayal, the real disgust at his actions, he lifted his head, lifted his eyes to the

Something sparkled beneath the surface of the dark blue irises, something suspiciously akin to unshed tears. Why was Kano unhappy? Kano wasn’t meant to be unhappy… Kano never let himself slip enough to show… Without thinking, Dylan unravelled himself, finding himself running his thumb over the light rouge that had risen with the shimmering in the storm.

Their eyes never left each others… Dylan felt arms lace themselves around his waist, holding him carefully, protectively. Gently Kano tugged him nearer, bringing their faces closer; Dylan could feel the tickle of Kano’s breaths across his cheek. Kano lifted his face up a fraction, smiling softly as their lips hovered only inches apart. They both shivered slightly, nestling into one another’s embrace more fondly as they did so. One hand rose to bury itself in the damp mop of hair, the other slid across his neck, circling motions with long, lightly calloused fingers making Dylan’s eyes widen with a mixture of fear and wanting. Was Kano… Were they… Noses touched, eye fluttered shut and lips…

“KAAAAAAANNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

They sprung a part, Dylan half scrabbling back to his original position on the floor by the radiator. His cheeks were undeniable pink. What the hell had just happened? Loki burst into the door as Kano, turning to their friend in the doorway, said, “I was just going to take Dylan to see Rory. Want to come?”

Loki looked at where Dylan in his half undressed state was blushing furiously and frowned, “What happened to you?”

“Caught in the rain.” He mumbled and drew his knees tighter. Then he realised what Kano had said, “You know I don’t think I can go. My aunt’ll be there and my relationship with her is even worse than the one she had with my father. Really. I-”

“Don’t be silly. You want to see her. We can look after you if you’re aunt’s really that bad.”

He wanted to describe just how deep her hatred ran for him. For the most part it was based off her homophobia. For the rest it was because everyone in his family, bar prehaps his sister, thought him to be the black-sheep bastard of the Watts name. He shuddered, missing the warmth he’d had from Kano.

But Loki was looking determined, “Right. To hospital.”

I was surrounded by perpetual midnight, darkness smothering every orfice of my body. Tinny sounds cut through the blanketing ink like knives, yet I could feel or see nothing. Only the muffled noises that reached my ears, steadily palpitating to my own pulse, disturbed my solitude. It was not an absence of light, because the darkness was lively and volatile, suffusing me with it's warm midnight glow and protecting me from all except the sounds that managed to pierce its heart. The oil-slick skyline of purples and reds, so dark they were almost imperceptible, diffused into the midnight horizon. I felt like a fish that had been dropped deep into an ocean trench, the darkness enveloping me like water so that I could sense it's presence but not really feel it, all the while immobile and swaying gently to the inky currents as the beats of my heart caused it to ripple like midnight silk.

My right hand began to move gently as though being picked up, fingers trailing behind my wrist delicately as it rose through the watery black. Snaking behind it like an eel came my forearm. Ripples washed against my flesh from where the arm had been, agitating the darkness and splitting it into tones of blue and red. My arm began to slowly descend again, until it rested just a little above where it had started it's ascent, as though something small had been placed under it.

Instinctively, I began searching for the bright flashes of light that seemed to accompany the louder noises as they cut through my protective blanket. I waited patiently for each elusive sparkle as though they were shooting stars and I was lying under the night sky with my family in Cambridgeshire. Each little burst seemed to light up the darkness, if only for a moment.

Uncurling my toes, I let my back arch into a feline sprawl, wiggling the fingers on my hands so that they elongated femininely before relaxing back into my aquatic state. As each finger came to rest where it had been before the low rumble of drums burst forth in a large flash of light towards my right. Fear washing over me like frost through my bloodstream, making crystals of ice form in the darkness surrounding me, I began to move my fingers to a familiar beat, and mulitiple flashes began to appear all around me. The beat became faster and I began to see the flashes collide in dizzying displays of white that seemed to ricochet off each other into the vast expanse of darkness. My fingers ran away with each other until I had descended into the bass line of the rhythm, a low thud using all of my fingers at once, slow at first, but which built up to a frenzied pace. Each time that my fingers returned to the invisible barrier, the flashes stayed longer, until the blackness began to give away to greys.

I was staring at a ceiling. A long, cylindrical flourescent light flickered above me, coating the industrial cream ridges with an eerie yellow light as I stared upwards, emphasising the gnarled, leathery paint. I wanted to shut my eyes and return to the pleasant darkness, yet instinctively I knew that this would not work. So I resigned myself to study the brownish marks that traced the cavities idly. I could hear a steady beep that resonated with that of my own heart, thumping diligently away below my breast bone. Slowly, I began to lower my head.

An explosion of cheerfulness greeted my senses as I took in the easy grace of Loki's jaw line. Sapphire irises burned through me from behind his raven hair, and his face was split by a grin. At that moment, he looked very young, but at the same time as though he had understood what was going on. "I knew it would work..." he muttered quietly to himself as he settled back down into a worn blue arm chair. Beside him sat a plywood round table with some daffodils on and a plate filled with crumbs.

I began to examine my surroundings, my eyes falling onto the snaking wires and feeding tubes connected to crisp white bandages. They trailed through the air, thick with the heat of the buttery sunlight that coagulated through the window on my left, tracing the veins and tubes down my pale arms until they reached my hand and...

"Loki, what's the drumpa....why the hospit....why is there a drum-pad with me in a hospital?" I found myself muttering huskily, as though I hadn't spoken for days.

"I thought it would wake you up from your coma." He stated the matter with genuine conviction, still beaming at me with those blue eyes, the unnerving stare of a little child. He seemed to be free from the normal constraints of an adult and this was the source of his peculiar intelligence. He knew instinctively that assuming anything about my actions wouldn't work, and that to just to state the facts, as they were at that moment, would be the best. Anything more would be too much to process. After a few pensive moments his face began to crumple into smooth folds of flesh and he added carefully, "You've been very interesting."

My eyes closed momentarily as I processed the information, but I felt as though my mind had been clouded by a thick fog, so that all I could feel was my energy rocking through me in silver tendrils again. I snapped them open to meet Loki's open stare. "I can take it you mean the drums. How did you know?"

"I guess....Music makes me want to wake up in the mornings. Then I like food." He proffered a piece of cake to me, the muscles of his arm tensing under the charcoal vee neck tee he wore. I stared in fascination as I watched each movement, recalling the intricacies of muscles and their reflexes, before shaking my head at him, a smile flitting momentarily across my face like a moth.

"Too early. You woke me up, you can have it."

"It's four in the afternoon." He stared at me quizzically, as though this were obvious. His eyes were so honest and open that I turned away and looked once again at my hand. I felt like I should have known too. But then again....Loki could eat at any time of day. Or night. As I stared at my long fingers, doodles in biro faded into bizarre grey smudges and my nail polish chipped into formations that mirrored the patterns of continents or barrier reefs, I began to see that my hand was shaking to the point where it was a blur of colour. Gulping, I returned to face Loki, now sitting upright in his chair.

"How interesting was I then?"

"Oh God, oh God, we're all gonna die!" He replied, unblinking.

"Ah. So fairly?"

"You almost beat Katie Couric."

"That good huh? Sense clearly has no place between these walls."

"No literally. It reached the news. I fought off NBC with a spatula."

"I sincerely hope that you're joking" I muttered darkly, trying to imagine a camera man protecting his lens from returning to it's origins- hard rock.

"Only about the spatula. And the fighting. Except between your mother and dylan." Loki replied after a moment, before adding once more, "Cake?"

"Alright then, But I feel like Bruce Bogtrotter."

"You don't look like him."

"I should hope not. Wait....my mother's here?"

"I'm sorry, Dylan said you didn't get on. He's waiting outside. Scared. With Kano." Loki added, suddenly his eyes glazing over giving him a painfully vunerable look.

"He must be thinking about himself. I love my parents just fine. They have an irrational hatred of each other, because both believe that the other resembles Dylan's Dad."

Loki said nothing, but sat humming for a few seconds, his eyes closed in fierce concentration. It struck me that Loki seemed to understand almost everybody, and yet no one knew much about Loki. I smiled and let him keep humming.

"I know, why don't you play me a beat while we wait for a doctor and then Dylan to come." I announced slowly, my arm rolling off the drum-pad to rest on the itchy hospital blanket.

I blinked at her a moment, then grinned, “Okay!” I said, taking the drum pad and moving it into my lap as I thought for a moment. I looked at her and nodded my head, my hands moving on their own to create a lively beat that wasn’t too hyper. Switching mode part way through, I went for something more earthy, a steady beat that reminded me of Kano and his strange rituals. I could almost see the campfire as I beat it out, where we used to sit together and talk about nothing at all, me beating on one of the drums he had made and him hitting a rock with some sticks in time to what I had started. My eyes fluttered closed and I recalled the scent of the trees, it had finished raining a while before we’d started, and I had wanted to create something. Kano had given me music.

That was the problem with Kano, he was constantly giving me music. Perhaps that was why I liked him so much. He understood how important it was, how very much music was a part of my blood. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to understand why music was so important, so long as someone else did too. I opened my eyes and looked at Rory, lying in her hospital bed and looking like she might die simply from being too thin. I watched as she watched me, both of us staring at each other as though one might do some new kind of trick. It was interesting, and it made a grin spread out across my face.

That was when the door burst open, two doctors, an intern and a nurse bustling through them, Dylan right behind. I think Kano was behind Dylan, but I couldn’t tell for sure as he got pushed back. “Only two people are allowed,” came the voice of one of the doctors. I watched in fascination as they looked at this thing and poked at that thing, and started to talk to Rory. Dylan looked like he was going to start crying again, so I stood up and pushed a chair under him. I was afraid he was going to fall over from it all. He collapsed into the chair, grasping hold of Rory’s hand. I felt kind of like a third or fifth wheel, but when Rory’s eyes caught and continued to hold mine, I simply couldn’t leave.

There was something strange about Rory, and it was difficult for me to put my finger on it. See, she was interesting, fun to be around, and yet, dark. Dark was a good way of describing her. I put my foot on the back of the chair and balanced my drum pad on my leg, starting a drumming that was as dark as Rory. It reverberated through the room as people were talking, and I felt pretty impressed with how it sounded. Rory seemed to be as well, as she continued to watch me. I think she was more interested in what I was doing than what anyone else was doing. It made me smile, but not in a way that people usually see me smile, this was more devilish, slightly evil. I think it was the smile that Kano said was my demon smile. I suspect this was the smile that gave me the name Loki in the first place. Perhaps I really was simply a creature that didn’t deserve love, as my second adopted mother told me.

That was when the intern stared right at me and said, “Stop drumming!” I stopped drumming, stopped smiling, and looked at him. “You’re making it difficult for us to talk,” he said, somewhat sheepishly as I continued to stare at him. “Besides which, the patient needs some peace now.” I laughed a short bark of a laugh.

“What do you think woke her up?” I asked, my tone snide and somewhat angry. What was wrong with me anyway? I shook my head and looked at Rory, “Sorry, I should go now,” I said, grinning my usual grin, although it felt plastic and fake now. “I’ll be back.” I think Rory was going to protest, but I was out the door before she got two words in. Kano was sitting outside as I suspected, and I patted him on the shoulder.

“Go in there and be with Dylan, I think he’ll need you,” I said, and when he looked at me, I knew he understood something was wrong with me. He nodded and stood, and although he was going to say something, I pushed him into the door, and blocked the path of a woman who was rushing over. “Are you Rory’s mother?” I said in a false, and somewhat sickly sweet voice. I extended my hand, “I’m Loki!” Maybe I could delay her long enough to give the other two some private time with Rory.

“I need to be in there,” she started, and I shook my head.

“I’m sorry,” I didn’t sound sorry even to myself. “They’ll only let two people in there right now. Was I right?” the hyperness was back, but it wasn’t welcomed to me. She looked at me in confusion.

“What?” I decided she must be Rory’s mother, she had the accent.

“Rory’s mother?” I asked again, continuing to hold out my hand. Something seemed to click in her attitude, and she nodded her head, standing up straight and looking somewhat regal. I hated it when parents did that, when they “suddenly” became something because other people were looking. What was it about parents? Why couldn’t they just be worried, or be upset or whatever? Why did they try to make people think they were fine when they weren’t?

“I’m sorry, yes, I’m Rory’s mother, Kate. I’ve been so worried about her,” she took my hand and I shook it firmly, but tried to keep from shaking it off of her. It didn’t seem to matter, her whole body bounced as I did so. Was I really that strong? I didn’t think I was.

“Loki,” I said again, just in case she hadn’t heard me the first time. “I’m a friend.” Something wasn’t right with that statement, but I wasn’t sure she’d figure it out, or even exactly what it was. Perhaps we weren’t really friends yet. What did the English think of friendships? Maybe it took years for people to become friends in England. I tilted my head to one side, looking thoughtful. “I think so anyway.” She blinked at me, as though trying to understand what was wrong with me.

”You think you’re her friend?” she asked, and I nodded.

“I mean, we hang out, we talk, and she gave me drumsticks. Does that count? I think it counts,” I nodded my head in affirmation. “We’re friends on my end. I think she considers me a friend as well.” Most people didn’t know how to deal with me. I am a bit strange, and parents especially couldn’t understand me. I figured it was alright, as I can’t deal with most parents.

“What happened in there? You just came out, what’s going on?” She sounded so worried that I wanted to be mean. I’m not sure why, perhaps because she was still in England and Rory was over here. I mean, I didn’t know much about Rory, and maybe she came here to get away or maybe her career brought her over here, but maybe… maybe Rory hated her mother? It was hard to tell. I didn’t like to see people in hospitals, so I didn’t stay around them too much.

“Rory woke up,” I said flatly. Shouldn’t she have realized that by now? A doctor flew out of the room, but was moving away so quickly she couldn’t ask him any questions, secretly it made me happy.

“Woke up? That’s wonderful,” she sounded so relieved. Is waking up so wonderful a thing? I think there are definitely times when a person should remain asleep.

“Do you think so?” I asked, and I found that my voice had somehow become cruel again, “Maybe so, but maybe she doesn’t think so.” Kate looked at me in horror.

“What on earth could make you say such a thing?” she asked, her voice shocked and somewhat angry. Her eyes were blue, I just realized. I wondered if that was why Rory kept staring into mine.

“Well, don’t you think it’s better to stay warm and comfortable in sleep sometimes?” She might think I was… what was the English term, daft or something like that? Well, crazy for sure, but honestly I couldn’t care at the moment. She blinked at me.

“Who did you say you were again?” she asked, and I knew where this was going. It always went here, who was the crazy man so I can tell my children to stay away from them.

“Loki, like the god of mischief. Or so I’ve been told my whole life. Loki, my name is Loki, I woke up your daughter. I’m the one who thought to use drums,” I held up my drum pad. “I woke her up, she wouldn’t have woken if I hadn’t thought of it. I’m responsible for her coming out of her coma. I’m Loki. Loki, Loki, Loki.” I nodded my head and turned away from her. “I’m Loki,” I chanted, as I started walking away.

It was time for me to find some private space. I couldn’t deal with it all, my mind was going fuzzy. I think it was time for me to go back to the dorms. My drums were waiting.

Kano stood in the room watching Dylan with Rory. It was good to see her awake, though she still looked terribly weak and pale. The white sheets and her skin color had a bit too much in common for his comfort. He wasn't at all surprised the drums had helped. Music spoke directly to the soul, and drums encouraged movement more than any instrument.

"You look much better," he commented quietly once the doctors were gone and only a nurse remained. Dylan was a desperate and speechless form at her side. He seemed completely lost now that he had expressed that this was all his fault. Kano honestly couldn't see how it could be all Dylan's fault. Rory's mother, on the other hand, seemed very certain of Dylan's guilt.

"This is better?" Rory looked down at her hand and then up at him and Kano gave her a brief smile.

"Much, being in a coma does not suit you."

"I'm sorry Rory, I should have gone back with you," Dylan asserted. Kano was not trying to keep track of how many times Dylan repeated the same things at this point. He was fairly sure a world record of some sort was being made.

"No, you shouldn't have." Rory looked up at Kano again. "I heard my mother was here." Dylan immediately stiffened. His face turned nearly as grey as her hand at the mention of her mother. Kano nodded.

"I didn't think she and Dylan should be in the room with you at the same time. Would you like to see her?" Kano's eyes were completely on Dylan at this point. It seemed as though Dylan was holding his breath, waiting for Rory to answer.

"Yes," Rory replied, "I haven't seen her in some time. It would be nice to talk to her."

Dylan dropped her hand standing stiffly. "I'll go," he said and then he was out the door before anyone could object. Kano blinked blankly at the door for a moment then shook his head.

"I'll leave you with your mother then." Rory's mother was half way into the room as he finished. Kano nodded to her, "Excuse me," and left the room. It was hard to decide who he ought to go after. There was something wrong with Loki. From experience he knew that could probably wait. The worst thing Loki would do is play his drums until the whole dorm protested and then find some pie to eat. Dylan might freeze himself to death in the rain again. Kano chose Dylan.

Four hours later, Kano was still searching. Actually he was giving up. He'd tried every place he could think of several times. He'd left messages on every phone he knew the number to, asking that they let him know when they next saw Dylan and he went back to the dorm to deal with Loki. He had a creeping suspicion that Dylan was avoiding him, although he had no idea why.

The room he shared with Loki was silent. He unlocked the door and entered. Loki was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, holding his drum sticks.

Kano extracted a wooden flute from his raincoat and sat down on his own bed. He played one long, keening note, followed by another. It seemed that everyone was full of sorrow and pain now, so that was what he played. Regret, sorrow, pain, blinding emotions without words. When the final note hung suspended in the air between them Loki spoke.

"Thanks," he turned his head to Kano. Kano nodded.

"Thinking about your past again?"

"I hate parents." Loki sounded lost and very serious.

"I know you do. I love my father. I loved my mother. I think Rory loves hers too." Kano offered. Loki shrugged, then shook his head.

"It isn't rational."

"I know."

"How's Dylan?" Loki sat up and really looked at Kano. His hair was wind blown, his eyelids slightly swollen. "Is something wrong?"

"Probably not," Kano shook his head, "or maybe so." Dylan had stormed out. He probably thought his worst fears were confirmed. Rory wanted to see her mother and Dylan might have taken that as rejection of his presence. In fact Kano was fairly sure he had.

"Are you okay?" Loki was now leaning forward staring at him. In this more serious mood Loki's concern was obvious.

"I'm fine, I'm just worried about Dylan, and I think he's avoiding me." That was the only way four hours of not finding Dylan made sense.

"Why?"

Kano shook his head. "I have no idea."

Dylan had the haggard look of a man who had run through a desert with no shoes on. Or maybe one who had sprinted Alaska. It was rain in his hair and blue tinting his lips rather than sweat and the flush of heat that was shown on his pale face.
Lee stared. He had heard from Kano that Dylan was 'MIA' but hadn't expected him to be curled into the sofa at the back of L'Ouragan's book shop. It seemed strange to see the boy who had been so brazen and confident at the start of their semester stripped away to this creature dwelling in suffocating sadness.

Lee had Mel with him, waiting for him on their table with Ella and Isaac as well as Liz, but she was buying the second round of coffee. They had all been worried. Worried more than prehaps they should have been logically for someone they barely knew. Or maybe it was because it wasn't just fear for Rory and her bounce and charisma but also because her absence was tangible to the extent that the whole group of them was sapped of its usual vivality and spark.

Conversations were stilted by fear. Fear that dipped and dived on waves of concern and suspicion. For some reason he couldn't see her as suicidal no matter what the pale form infront of him had said before. It had sounded from Kano to be an accident. But then again that couldn't be proven.

"Dylan?" He ventured slowly out from behind the shelf he had been browsing and watched with worry as the bright blue eyes focused and dully turned themselves on him, "Kano was looking for you."

Dylan flinched. Not the right thing to say, "Oh."
There real was something shatterable about him when you looked harder, beneath the punk and mass off black hair.

"Do you want to come join us?" Lee felt awkward, it was as if he had intruded, "There's a whole gang of us out there."

Blank. Eyes blinked at him and flickered between reality and whatever was in his head then: "No thanks. I'm meant to be trying to find Lysistrata by Aristophanes... I've got loads of work to catch up on."

"Oh. Well if you change your mind we're at our usual table."

Dylan nodded and unfolded himself stiffly as if his joints ached before he turned and ducked out of Lee's way.

Finding Boccaccia forgotten Lee decided to turn back to the others. He ought to tell Kano that the runaway had been found and make sure the others knew too.

*

Kano had sounded relieved. The others had been slightly curious, especially when they caught a glimpse of the drawn face leaving L'Ouragon a few minutes later.

"I can't believe he was here all this time."

"I don't suppose he was."

"You think he was trying not to be found."

"Well Kano did say that he seemed upset by Rory's mother."

"That's true. Do you think Dylan blames himself for Rory's suicide att-"

"We don't know that yet."

"But-"

"Don't say it. We can't think like that until we know her side of the story. I mean, she seemed fine until that day. It's not like she's got a history or anything."

"That may not be true either. Dylan said at Castle-Heights that she was 'sick'"

Isaac's last point made the discussion still. Some wanted to visit Rory in hospital now she was awake. Some thought it was best to stay away until she was deemed to be recovering and came off intensive care. Now they were wondering about what happened for the upteenth time since the incident.

It had been in all the newspapers. Magazines had her face smiling from the covers with headlines questioning her sanity, whether or not it was a murder attempt, conspiracies about who might want to kill her. Mel had been in it too as some journalist had recognised her and photographed her entering the hospital the other day. Lee had never hated paparazzi or reporters more than he did at that moment.

He had never understood why people in situations like this made good reading. She was ill and suffering and they were gossiping about it behind her back. It was almost as bad as when his mother had killed himself and his entire family had gossiped about how 'no one would be looking after the boy now then' and how 'it was so obvious she wasn't strong enough for her position in society'. Everything echoed his past at him. He wanted to go home.

"Well I think I'm off." He tried with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, "I need to finish off an essay before tomorrow so I big you good day." He made a mock bow at the end of his excuse and turned away when he felt a hand on his arm and heard Mel excuse herself too.

"I'm going too. See you all later."

He sighed. He really did like her but he knew she couldn't like him. Not in the same way. It didn't make sense that someone as beautiful as her would be interested in someone who was so much younger and so much more inexperianced. He had never felt like this about anyone, always being the young geek in school. Here he had friends. Good friends. He didn't want to risk that... Especially with Mel. Friends was better than nothing.

Rory being in hospital means that although I visit every day, I feel that I rarely see the group anymore.

Which is a shame, seeing as I was just getting to know them.

I was allowing my agent to book local-ish catwalks only once a week, twice maximum. And Kyle was going crazy with it. Catwalks take up at least 6 hours hours of the day - and I refused to do a run when I had a class on. Which means all teh free time everyone else had was spent in the hospital cafeteria doing homework and sharing coffee while I got there just as most left.

Oh well. At least it means I can do the night shift (basically late until later). Which is mostly when Lee is around.

"Hey." As usual, he was sitting at the table we alwyas sat at, with Kano and Loki. I'd passed everyone else (barring Dylan who lived by Rory's bedside) everyone else when I came through reception.

"Mel," he smiled, and the whole stress of the day fell away. I'm an idiot - the boy isn't even legal. Not even legal. I could be done for rape, even though there was no way in hell he'd want to get inside my pants. I must be like some old woman to him.

I dumped my books next to the chair as I let myself slump with my elbows on the table. I was tired of keeping my back straight. "How is she today?"

"Awake." Loki replied heavily. "I think that Dylan arguing with her Mom is making her more tired than the whole carbon monoxide poisoning thing."

"Have you seen the papers today?" Kano asked me quietly. I shook my head. I hated papers, hated pictures. I never buy a newspaper, ever.

He passed it over to me hesitantly and I had a sudden dread hit my stomach.

"Page 3," Loki added. Lee shot them a look which I couldn't decipher.

And there it was staring at me in black and white. Pictures of us, the gang, in here the cafeteria. Pictures of the gang, here, without me. Pictrues of me on the catwalk. And the headline that took up half the page - "Crevas - caring friend or jealous enemy?"

I refused to teh read the rest of the article. I could guess what it was about. Another conspiritory article, aimed at me. Wanting to get my rival out of the way. Had it never occured to them that it's not a competition, and even if it was, we work in different areas? I felt sick.

"Wow." I managed. "And we only made page 3 today."

Lee put an arm round me as Kano looked away through the window and leant backwards on his chair.

"No-one thinks you want to hurt Rory, Mel," he started quietly, still looking out of the window, away from me. "But you are working a lot more than when we all first met you."

"That's because I have to pay rent, and because I..." I trailed off. I knew he wasn't really getting at me, but I was angry anyway. "I'm not here to explain myself to you."

I shook Lee off and stood up stifly. "Now if you don't mind, I think I'll go talk to Rory."

And I walked away.

I felt the need to go check on how Rory was doing, but unsure on whether or not I should wait. After all, she had just woken up, and maybe she didn't need all the attention. It could seriously stress her out.

I was currenty at L'Ouragan with most of the crew. Elizabeth was on my right, and Ella on my left. I had a hot chocolate, and everyone else had their own assortment of drinks, trying to keep themselves calm, or at least preoccupied.

I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes. I hadn't been asleep for almost two days. Worry about anything always kept me awake. I could tell that the worry had been lifted a little, but not enough to allow me good rest.

Elizabeth put her hand in mine and lightly squezzed. She could tell how I felt right now, mostly because I could tell how she felt, which was the same. I sighed and drank the rest of my hot chocolate.

Elizabeth was exhausted, she too, hadn't gotten much sleep the past couple days. Not even her double expreso mocha latte could keep her eyes from drooping.

The current situation had taken a toll on everyone; as they sat aroud the tabel, Elizabeth couldn't help but notice that everyone had a certain dullness to them, that look when something horrible has happened.

Well at least Rory was awake, that's really all that mattered, she was alive.

Hopefully the next couple of days everyone would be able to recoperate and sleep. Sleep was very important. In fact, after Elizabeth was finished here she was going to go home and crash.

Dylan watched a brown speckled, white-crested bird flutter its small russet wings of dew. It pecked around it twigs and urban debris that made up its nest and then perked its head to the side as if listening. He smiled to himself and sighed.

"I don't suppose you feel loneliness do you?" He murmured and gazed after it as it gave one last twitch and took off to find a breakfast somewhere in the city. It darted between buildings, rising upwards all the time. Climbing a thermal ladder and lifting out of sight among the clouds. Sighing again, he looked at the piece of paper on his desk.

Notes were scrawled across it. Notes from his head. Simple melody in print. There were drawings, conversations scrawled around the edges of the page. He could remember writing them in high school English with Cael after they'd first hooked up. There were questions as to who would play which bits of guitar, whether that note was right or if he'd forgotten to sharpen in. But there were also little faces, pictures of both of them. There was a poem in the corner from Cael...

'Stars can show you many things.
Like cooking tools and donkeys.
But if you take a closer look...
You might just see a monkey!'

He smiled slightly and looked away again. Why he had decided to sort through his old music case he didn't know. Probably because ever since Castle-Heights he had been compelled to face up to what happened. Or maybe it was because this situation with Rory made him unhappy... He made music to make himself feel better. Or had done. Art right now seemed wrong. Art had to be perfect, had to be beautiful to him. Music didn't.

Music could be ugly.

The white, wall hanging phone rang on its hook. Once, twice, again and again, making the otherwise silent rooms seem even more hollow than before. It was probably Kano or one of the others. It wouldn't be Rory. She had her mother now. And if that woman had her way then he was sure that Rory would be taken a long way from where ever he was. He sighed again. The phone stopped ringing. Silence dropped back like a heavy curtain holding back any light.

Things weren't meant to be like this. Things were meant to have been improving. He was meant to be moving onwards. Rory was meant to be growing in independence and furthering her love of languages so she didn't have to be a model forever. They were meant to be laughing about coffee runs, wrestling over whose half of the brownie it was, shotgunning turns to pay at L'Ouragon... They weren't meant to be like this. With everything in ruins, all their plans falling apart because of a few rough nights and a faulty boiler.

If it had been a faulty boiler... Had she tried to kill herself? Shaking his head, he decided he should listen to Kano on this one. He should ask her. In fact he should stop being such a coward and go back to the hospital instead of lingering here. Away from the others, away from the meddling mother and, ultimately, away from Rory.

And away from Kano.

Dylan chose to ignore that thought. He needed to focus on Rory rather than on his love life or lack there of. He couldn't quite believe what had nearly happened back in that music room. He had been scared and panicky and yet he'd felt utterly safe. He didn't think Kano would have hurt him. He wouldn't have just used him.

The dark blue carpet was soft under his feet as he uncurled and padded out of the four by five room he used as a sort of study and wandered through into the main part of his place. A studio flat with high gothic windows that he'd stained so lapis lazuli and cadmium and vermillion and scarlet scattered themselves across the wide room that was both kitchen and general sitting room though it was mainly taken up with bits of art. The walls, which he'd papered plain white were covered in his own doodles but canvases seemed to fall across every wall in a haphazardly fallen clutter. Those were the ones which caught people's eye. The abstract, the portraits, mixed media, encaustic, silk... ideas brought together from all over the world. He loved this place… it was a calm place and he could remember many times that it had lent him a sort of solace.

Rory had helped him buy it. He couldn't have afforded both his fees and his rent and his food if it wasn't for her help. That was why he pulled on two odd socks, one black, the other blue with stripes, before he searched out his converse again. He pulled them on, shuffling a little to make his feet comfortable in the damp soles. At least they weren't as sodden as they were before. Hesitating only to snatch an umbrella just in case he ran into Kano and not wanting to seem ungrateful for all the effort he had put into keeping him warm... He took one, last sweeping glance across the room, the dappled light casting shadows between art peices, before swinging out of the door, turning the key in the lock as a last minute decision.

*

Hospitals drove Dylan insane. The surgical smells of disinfectant and salves. The clink of metal beds rolling on squeaky wheels across the plastic tiles so if anyone vomited it was easy to clean up. The stoic faces of the staff with their crisp uniforms flashing gold-pin name-badges. Things like that... Made him despise each dull teal curtain hanging from rails, each rough woolen blanket tucked too tight about prone bodies in bed. Every bleep from the heart monitors and every creak from the swinging IV made his chest hammer hard, ribs aching under pressure. Whose life was being measured in mechanical moans from an uncaring machine? Whose suvival depended on the steady release of liquid food into their blood stream because they were too sick to do it themselves? Whose life hung in the balanced care of nurses who really just wanted to leave so they could have a glass of wine with mates and relax?

It was fair to say that he hated hospitals.

As he stepped through another set of unoiled doors he found Mel sitting, head in hands across from Rory's door and Lee beside her, arm draped over he shoulder. Some how doing that made him look a lot older than he really was. It was funny to think that Lee, for all his smarts and intellectual conversation, was really close on three years younger than he was.

"Hey." He murmured softly as he stepped up beside them, voice sounding hoarse for some reason.

"Heya." Lee replied with a smile though Mel didn't move.

Dylan thought back to the magazin articles he had noticed around on the heaving highstreets. People thought that Mel had done this to Rory. He shook his head and murmured her name until she looked up at him. Red rimmed, her eyes shone and it looked as if they could melt.

"I know it wasn't anything to do with you." He said finally, smiling ever so slightly as he did, "Don't listen to those hounds down there. They're just desperate."

Her eyes overflowed though he was sure he saw a flash of a smile before she ducked her head away again, hiding the tears from any paparazzi that had managed to infiltrate the corridor's special restrictions.

"Is her mother in there?" He asked after a moments pause, still standing, shifting from foot to foot.

"Nope. She left about ten minutes ago. Went to get lunch I think cos she asked if Rory wanted anything from the little cafe next door."

"Cool." Dylan relaxed, "So why are you waiting here?"

"Two people only. Liz and Ella are in there at the moment. Isaac went to up us all on coffee."

Dylan suddenly felt guilty. Here they all were keeping vigil and he had left. Abandoning Rory because of a stupid problem he had with her mother. He should have been able to put that aside.

"Kano and Loki have gone to find the nearest macky-d's... If you wanted to add something to the order."

"What?" Frowning, "You're getting macdonalds?"

"Yup. Can't eat the shit they sell here and can't afford nextdoor's stuff so..."

The two boys laughed and Mel's shoulders shook slightly. With laughter or not, he wasn't sure. Settling himself down, he decided to wait and if Kate came along. So be it.

The little red spider crawled across the crevices on the windowsill, mountains and ridges of flaked red paint barring it from the sparse green patches of lichen. It was the colour of a London bus, or perhaps Chanel lipstick, and no bigger than the sort of mole that winks at you from a stranger's eyelid. It wasn't beautiful, I thought, but rather pathetic in it's struggle to crawl up a ridge of paint that flicked backwards on itself. The spider tried yet again to mount the inside of the curve, but slipped back down into the trough of the wave. My eyes followed the spider's plight for one last time, feeling a sort of sadistic schadenfreude with its misery. I looked up at the view from the sill once more, refreshing in my mind the view of the grand evergreen tree in front of me, the name of which escaped my mind. The branches were bent downwards with the weight of a million green needles, and the majestic tree itself seemed lost in a world of vague evergreen dreams. Absentmindedly, I flicked another spider off my arm. It seemed that hundreds of the little red soldiers crawled across the bricks that made up the ledge, and yet none dared to come near to me on the inside of the room.

One particularly brave spider had made its way onto the inside of the window's frame, but its presumptuous thoughts were squashed, without a second thought, by a plastic ruler. No one was to enter this domain. Apparently, after today, this included me. I surveyed the room with a critical eye. All possessions that had once made the room mine had been stripped, the last neccessities now packed into two battered turquoise suitcases, their piping exposed and looking quite different from their original state, when I had been just seven years old. Decorations, posters, even school books- all had been cleared 3 weeks ago, at the beginning of my last half term. A wooden chair and a cheap desk lay to my right, and beyond that a shoddy school wardrobe. Facing my back was the standard single bed with its four drawers, now reduced to a mattress with a sheet the colour of blood, which someone had long a go written the words "I am a period" onto in capital letters. I smiled. It was common consensus among the girls, decided when these sheets had first arrived to replace the original white ones 4 years ago, that the very expensive, all girls boarding school had tried to save money by not replacing sheets from 'Stainage', quite as often.

My lacrosse stick lay on the mattress, a note wrapped around it with a hair tie, addressed to its purchaser 3 years below, who had indeed been fleeced for every penny she had paid. A pile of games kit, with its white polo shirt, long and itchy acrylic socks and short kilt among other things, lay crisp and fresh on the bed, ready to be hawked off by the witch-like ladies of the second hand shop with a zeal unparalleled, convincing innocent 11 year olds that they really did need this school scarf (unworn in all 5 years that the girl, who had arrived at the age of thirteen, had been at the school.)

I felt for some reason that I would miss this strange world, no matter how unrealistic and odd my experiences there had been. There had been an incident with a polystyrene head from the drama cupboard (Occasional roof walks were not unknown to occur (Scandals with thieving and posses and cliques had torn apart various friendships but, for the most part, I had stayed out of them and had led a rather unremarkable life there, provided, of course, that I stayed on the pills. At times I had hated it with a burning passion that seemed to rival the zeal of a third world dictator for his own image, but at others, it had seemed almost alright, this private school lark. An uphill struggle though, just like the spider's. Turning one last time, I glanced to the bin where a folder had been parked. Gleaming in black on a shimmering white label were the words "History - Rory Constant".

**

My hospital room was very much like my dorm at school, except for the boy perched silently on a blue plastic chair by one yellowing wall. Dylan had been silent, now for at least two minutes. It was unsettlng and I looked down to the arches of my feet, heels pressed together and toes wiggling with chipped navy polish.

The fingers of my left hand trailed across the the veins that winked up at me through the papery skin of my ankles, resting every so often in the hollows that the taught muscles created as they tightened like cord. Balanced carefully on my right ankle was a pack of cloves,the cream cardboard gleaming up at me through the ripples of purple and blue in its plastic covering. The filters of the Sampoernas faced Dylan, and his the dark pupils of his Kohl rimmed eyes raked over the rectangle of green at the centre of the packet, as though if he could stare long enough the pack would spontaneously combust. Or fly into his itching fingers.

"No."

Dylan said it carefully and slowly, as though the word had taken all of his courage to muster. His eyes raised momentarily, as though to meet mine and parry until I acquiesced, but he let his pupils fall short and began to study my juoce mouth with an artists keen eye. He looked visibly agitated, the dark circles under his eyes so dark that they had been smeared on with a pallete knife, his yellowing skin taut over the bones of his face. His black hair had become plastered to the side of his head at an irregular angle, and his lips jutted out over his squared off jaw.

"But the doctor said that the only reason I survived was my system's tolerance level." I muttered, pouting at him as my hand lurched for the cylindrical purple lighter that rested on the ridges of my spiral bound sketchbook.

"It's a fucking hospital. There's a fire alarm. The sock trick won't work."

Silence echoed throughout the vacuous space between us as I studied the flowers that dwarfed his hunched figure. White roses and orchids tangled up through the stiff stalks of eucalyptus, their sensual petals curvacious and feminine. Dwarfing them from behind in a cream jug of some metallic description were stargazer lilies, the sparkled pinks cotrasting with the pallor of both Dylan and the roses. "It will if it's wet. Remember...I spent my formative years chaining in my dorm with Agatha Christie playing whilst I tried to finish transcriptions of Georgia O'keefe's in oil paint. I think I even left the sock as a present for the matron."

A smile briefly flitted across Dylan's features as his hands fidgeted with an empty box of rose macaroons. The box had become folded like paint, rippling and yellowing with the coarse manipulation of his long, calloused fingers. Steeling his blue eyes until their stormy grays settled into a black spiral, my cousin tilted his head until his gaze locked onto mine. "The doctor said if you inhale anymore carbon monoxide you'll go comatose again. I'm not having that."

"Oh you're not? Didn't you have fun without dragging me along?" Inside I was still bitter that Dylan had left me to fend for myself. the anger pricking my skin like acid, it's dense fumes clouding my vision and senses. My brother wouldn't have left me. He was strong and brave and....Dylan wasn't him. Fading memories of him trying to stand up for me even when it was completely unnecessary began to stab at my concious, pushing themselves to the front of my still aching mind. My mother's arrival had almost made me more bitter towards Dylan, because it reminded me who I had left behind. Dylan was my crutch, his lilting american melodies distinguishing him from my direct family enough that I could bear to be with him, and his comfortable familiarity enough that it still felt like they were protecting me. Dylan might rely on me for money, but I relied on him, and to a certain extent on the other boys, to keep me stable. And he had removed himself. My tone was jovial but even Dylan, emotionally cutting me off as he was, could feel the spite that emulated from my steeled voice. He shuddered as though caught in an icy storm. I caught my breath like a frightened deer, sympathy and regret coursing through me as I saw the fragility of his state for the first time. "Fine. No smoking. On the condition that you strip that awful black dye and bring me some....hmmm... more macaroons, a dyptique candle - tuberose, naturally, some red lipstick, My book on edith Piaf.....Charbonnel & Walker Drinking Chocolate.....my blue cape....my red driving gloves, truman capote, an entire season of midsomer murders, my blusher....my blue nail varnish, some cadmium red,The Electric Kool-aid Acid Test , my doctor Hauschka rose gloop, the new terry pratchett...and all my Haruki Murakami books"

"Do you think I'm some sort of stepford-childling that magically spouts cash and arms? And where the bloody hell am I meant to find Charbonnel and Walker in New York?" with deadpan delivery Dylan replied instantly, but his eyes sparkled for the first time since...since he had met Kano, who I had instantly known he had fancifully turned into a Mr. Rochester and fallen deeply, madly, passionately and almost ridiculously obviously in love with. Not that Dylan would realise for....another two years at this rate. It was like watching a film with Hugh grant and colin firth in. But as lovers. An interesting concept for the next Bridget Jones. I still hadn't worked out which one would play Dylan, but by the time I was bantering with Galliano, the first show I'd booked since waking up- much to my mothers chagrin, I would have all the minor details bantered out. Dylan would be mortified.

"Citarella... MACAROONS AND BOOKS. AND PAINT. AND CLOTHES. OR I SHALL DECLARE YOUR UNDYING LOVE TO KANO."

"I'm not sure what exactly you plan on doing with leather gloves, vampy lipstick, old detective shows and smelly candles in your hospital room." He muttered as darkly as it is possible when turning the same colour as beetroot soup (or ???? as it is pronounced in Russian), "and I'm not with.."

I interrupted him before his embarassment made him shrivel into a dormouse. My vivacious cousin ripped into silence using the four last four words of a sentence. Truly bizarre. " child? Obviously. And obviously for entertaining myselfin this dump whilst you lug yourself to lectures without me..... for some reason I have the urge to paint pictures of flowers and listen to familiar detective videos."

"No smoking" He cautioned darkly, snatching the carefully balanced cigarettes of my ankle, almost dropping them onto a red rug that Isaac had managed to charm past the nurse for me, which had been smuggled over in my suitcases from Morocco just before I had launched Haphazardly into my first term at Columbia. Dylan was with me up there, and the others were dotted between NYU and the rest of the colleges in the city. Art classes at SVU involved frustration with oil paint and the tv permanantly switched on to supernatural for one teacher that had Tivo issues. The rug was a curious mixture of traditional weaving and borders, but multicolored silhouettes danced around the centre as if they had dropped off a pop artist's canvas. I had been so enthused by this action that I had attempted to jump up and hug him, only to be restrained by Kano and collapse back onto the bed coughing. Stupid medicine. Stupid central heating.

I shrugged my shoulders back into the buttery soft brown leather of my paint splattered jacket, frustrated by the itchy plastic-derivatives that made up the seafoam hospital smock. No attempt was made to snatch back the cigarettes and I merely resigned myself to staring at the laptop by the door. It blinked at me unerringly, humming happily as it scalded the plastic table underneath it. Metal began to creak beside it as the door handle began to turn and through the chicken-wire glass I could see the vibrant patterns of my quilt. Which, oddly enough, I had never had the chance to see open a door before. The yellowing pine reflected the blues in the light as it began swinging into the shadowy corner, and emerging from the bundles of cadmium, pinks and sienna came lee's shock of hair. His eyes darted around the room, which had already begun to accumulate hordes of my stuff due to the careful orchestrations of Mel and Kano.

Dylan laughed at the sight, which caused Lee to dart a suprised look at me from his kindly face as he dumped the bundle of colours onto my lap and grinned sheepishly. In a fit of genius he wore a cardigan over his well cut suit and looked quite yummy, if young. If only I could get Dylan to dress more eccentrically....I had only just managed to drag him into barneys the other day, but then again he really didn't fit the gay best friend stereotype. Especially when he cavorted around with the odd hipster girl in williamsburg and promptly broke their heart.

"So you finally get in to see me. Did they get the MacDonalds yet? I'm really craving that giant ass motherfucker fatty burger."

"Potty mouth. Yeah, I think they're going to sneak past the nurse in a second. She's paranoid that someone from the press will get in and you'll sue."

"I can see the headlines now: Murdered Model promotes High Cholesterol. Is this an attempt to stave of Anorexia claims?" Dylan murmured as he grabbed Lee's Coffee from his hand, shifting his weight to settle back into the plastic chair. I felt a slight pang as I reflected on all of the speculation that had been occurring. At first, I had been fairly neutral towards Mel, what with the karate incident, But as I warmed to her I realised that this press was destroying her slowly and unnecessarily. She really didn't deserve this. She had been so.....kind. No strings. It was unusual to see that in a person. I was so scared that I would be left alone that I gathered people around me in hordes, and yet I realised that only a few were good friends. Mel was refreshingly honest and didn't seem to care what others thought, but now those opinions were emptying her until it seemed that she had left her body completely. By now I had walked in most of the couture shows, as it was late in the season, but the press still seized onto the idea that she was somehow stealing my jobs. Which was ridiculous because, well, it was them building her recognition up by spraying her across the front page and asking whether she was after my position as a "supermodel". A load of bollocks. Even more so due to the last supermodels really existing in the 90s. I mean Gemma, Daria and me? Famous. Gisele, Naomi, Cindy? Supermodels. Mel definitely didn't me to die to boost her career anyway. She was doing fine on her own.

"I'm going out for a cigarette." Dylan announced cautiously as he stood up and shoved the economic "seating device" towards a rather startled Lee. Glaring at him sulkily, my toungue danced out of my mouth and I told him to find Mel for me and memorise my list. After a long pause, Dylan's face lit up as though he had caught a butterfly or won a conker fight, and therefore found the meaning of life. "AND YOU LIKE MY HAIR DYE."

"Yeah but........I'm bored of it. I think you should go back to blonde and green tips...maybe blue. Pink if you're feeling special. You're far too albino pale for black hair now- you're tendency to stad out in rainstorms leaves you quite blue."

"I guess. But I like it this way."

"I'll get you coffee?"

"I might suprise you. I'll think about it. But....black......" he sighed as though he had fallen deep into thought.

"Get my copy of Le Grand Meaulnes too."

He shifted his weight again as he glanced back towards me, his eyes pale and intense, framed by his knitted eyebrows. To me he was almost out of focus, like the ghosts in a photograph taken with slow shutterspeeds, fuzzy and surrounded by an eternal sense of movement, even though they were frozen. That was Dylan- always moving, thinking... even when frozen.

Closing my eyes I let the music of the city outside wash over me. Somewhere a radio blasted out beats, the melodies washing over the sound of sirens, shouting and traffic. The view from my bedroom window was painted onto my mind with strokes so detailed that they seemed to shimmer and move, Brown cliffs rising up from a sea of tarmac, the fading neon signs of a hairdresser and the yellowing poster outside the chinese restaurant contrasting with the sienna of the brownstones, so interupted by the large glass block on the end of the block. My two little floors at the bottom of a miscellaneous brownstone were home now. But there weren't any pill shaped spiders on my windowsill.

I nibbled on a french fry and wondered idly if I should be thanking everyone for their kind donations to my meal. Most of them had said, "Here, get me "whatever" and don't give me the change." or, "I want two doubles and a fry, here's a five, keep the change." and so I'd managed to get all kinds of food! I was beginning to think I might not go hungry after all. I looked down and was startled to find half the large fry was empty. Good thing I'd gotten two of them.

"Kano!" I called, how had he gotten so far ahead of me anyway? "Wait up!" He didn't say anything, but I was able to catch up to him fairly quickly, so he must have slowed down. "What's eating at you?" I asked, turning to him and fumbling in the bag, glancing down to see that the first fry box was empty. I tossed it in the nearest trash and reached for the next one.

"Nothing," he said softly, in that tone that meant, everything is wrong Loki, can't you tell? I rolled my eyes.

"Bull," I said, looking around and then settling my eyes on him again. He said nothing, and I figured it was because he didn't know how to say what was bothering him. I ran the past few events in my mind. We got to see Rory, there were only two people allowed in to see her at a time, we'd gotten money from all kinds of people for McDonald's, we went to get the food, I'd gotten all kinds of things extra to eat... I stopped in my tracks and stared at Kano in horror.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" I said, my eyes filling with tears, "What did you want? We can go back, I think I've still got some money! If not, you can have whatever it is I have you want! I can't believe I didn't even think of that, Kano I'm so sorry, I'm such a bad friend!" Kano turned to me, looking into my horror filled eyes, an expression of complete confusion on his face.

"What the hell are you talking about Loki," he finally asked.

"The food! I should have realized you'd want to get something else, and I took all of the money and used it on my own food, and didn't even think of you, and you're always so good to me and I've been so bad to you, I can't believe I didn't think of it, I'm so sorry, please forgive me-" I was cut off by Kano's hand, which was over my mouth.

"Shut up Loki," he said, a touch of exasperation in his tone. "I'm not upset over the food." I blinked at him a few times.

"Ywur want?" I asked through his hand. He let my mouth go and I blinked again.

"No," he said, and turned away from me to continue walking. After a brief pause, I caught up.

"Then what are you upset about?"

"Nothing." I rolled my eyes again.

"You are."

He turned to me and shook his head. "If I was, I'd tell you about it, wouldn't I?" I thought about that for a moment, then shook my head.

"No." He sighed.

"Why are you so astute when I don't want you to be?" he mumbled. Since I didn't think he intended me to hear him, I ignored what he said.

"Come on, it's not like I'm a blabbermouth about important things," I could feel my tone getting serious and I sighed. "Won't you just talk about it?"

"No." Stubborn as a mule, I swear.

"Fine," I said in exasperation and stopped talking to him. When the first of three double cheeseburgers was gone I looked over at him again. "So, what's bothering you?" I asked and he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, turning angry eyes on me. Uh oh, I'd managed to piss him off.

"Loki, drop it," he hissed, and I nodded solemnly. "Good." With that he turned away and continued to walk. I sighed and pulled out another double, ate it and then saw the hospital.

"I wonder if Dylan will be there," I said, and a smile grew on my lips as I looked at Kano. Seeing the set look of his body, and the fact that he seemed somewhat angry, something clicked in my mind. "Oooohhh... that's what's bothering you! Dylan hasn't called or anything since I disturbed you two in the music room. What's his problem anyway?" I asked. Kano shook his head ever so slightly and I tilted my head to one side.

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be wondering what I'd done wrong," Kano barely spoke. I threw the wrapper out and lightly touched Kano's shoulder.

"Sorry, I guess I'm dense sometimes. I didn't mean to make you angry." Kano shook his head, and turned to me.

"You didn't." Then he turned to the building again, and started in.

We didn't talk as we walked back to Rory's room. I had a large jacket over my hands, so I could smuggle the food in, and Kano walked so quickly, no one questioned what he was doing with one large McDonald's bag. When we got to the corridor where people were waiting for their food, Dylan was coming out of Rory's room, and I realized he looked somewhat annoyed.

"Heya Dylan!" I called, and Kano shot me a quick angry look before turning to Dylan. Dylan looked at Kano and seemed shocked, and somewhat apprehensive. I smiled and took one of the smaller bags out, handing it to Lee, "Food!" I said happily.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Dylan finally deciding to move. He nodded at Kano and tried to walk around him. He managed to get to the other side of Kano, their arms brushing slightly. He seemed to be trying to walk quickly, and I resisted the urge to trip him. Once he was past me, I looked at Kano, who seemed reserved, and somewhat uncertain.

I walked over to him and took the bag out of his hands. "Go silly, don't ask internal questions about the meaning of life, just go and stop the one you've been worried about." I gave him a little shove and smiled when he ran off after Dylan, no hesitation in his demeanor anymore. Grinning I turned back to Lee.

"I'm sooo hungry!" I said, pulling one of the other bags out. He looked at it and shook his head.

"Who all is that for?" he asked, and I looked at him in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

"All that food, who is it all for?"

"Me!" I said happily, taking out a big mac and opening the box. "This bag is for Mel," I said, pulling one bag out and handing it over to her as I took a bite of the food. They both stared at me as though I was insane, and perhaps I was, and I ate with relish. It was good to have enough food to eat.

Kano had been trying to figure out the fastest way to ditch the McDonald's bag and follow Dylan. Luckily Loki provided the answer quite efficiently. He caught up with Dylan as he was leaving the hospital.

"Dylan," he touched his shoulder to get his attention, "I'd like to talk."

Dylan slumped his shoulders a bit more and nodded, then mumbled something about Rory and stuff.

"I'll come with you then," Kano said, walking beside him. They walked in silence for a long time as Kano tried to decide how to approach the situation.

Dylan had been avoiding him. That was obvious, what he wanted to know, no, needed to know, was why. He glanced at Dylan as if the answer would be plainly painted across him. It wasn't there.

The worst part was the when. They had almost kissed. A part of him wanted to strangle Loki for choosing just that moment to come running in, acting his happy puppy dog self. Another part of him was glad. After all, if this was Dylan's reaction to almost kissing what would his reaction to actually doing so be? That was assuming they had stopped there and Kano wasn't entirely certain they would have.

"You've been avoiding me," Kano started and Dylan shook his head. "You have," Kano said firmly, "and I'd like to know why."

Dylan somehow seemed to shrink into himself a little bit more. "Sorry," he replied softly.

Kano sighed, "It's okay and I'm not upset I just... don't understand. I thought... I'm not very good at this sort of thing." He shook his head and tried again. "Did I do something wrong?"

Dylan shook his head immediately, "No."

They stopped to wait for the next train, boarded and sat together in silence. Dylan's body felt warm but small at Kano's side. It was partly the way he sat, almost folding in upon himself.

The train stopped at Rory's apartment and the two of them entered. Kano stopped just inside the door remembering the night not so long ago when he'd found her. Then his mind wandered back to a different woman and a different collapse.

"Kano?" Dylan was holding a large selection of items and Kano realized he'd stopped in the doorway, staring off into nowhere. He had no idea how long he'd been there, remembering.

"Sorry, here let me help you carry some of that." Kano took most of what Dylan was holding with an awkward smile. What must Dylan be thinking? He'd just frozen in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights or something.

"I need to stop a few places to buy things," Dylan seemed hesitant. "You don't have to come with me."

Kano shook his head. "I've been trying to catch up with you for days. I don't know what's wrong, but unless you tell me directly that you don't want my company, you're getting it."

Dylan shook his own head. "It's not that."

Kano nodded, "Good."

Lee had noticed Kano lope off as his hair had peeped above the glass of the windows at the top of the wall. He smiled. Something was going on there which he was sure would be good for the group of them. Macdonald's aside, today seemed to be a very good day. It left him with a fuzzy contentment in his stomach. Though that may have been because Mel was holding his hand still. Or the junk food.

"The italian teacher misses your confectionary bribery." He spoke up and grinned, noticing that the munching had taken over from chatter.

"Oh?" Rory grinned through a mouthful of chips.

"Yeah. She was asking 'Dove ci potera questo cambiamento? Roria? Roria? Wheere ees Rory Constont?'" Lee's eyes sparkled as he mimicked their slightly dozy Italian professor.

She snickered along with Mel and Loki and Elizabeth. Most likely at the bad accent but if he made people laught that was a good thing, "Where'd Isaac get to?"

"Coffee still."

"I swear he came back?"

"Nope." Mel shook her head, "We sent him to L'Ouragon. Amelie would neverforgive us for being too lazy to go to her."

"Oh right." Red must have tinted his cheeks because she giggled slightly and looked at her watch before sighing.

"Hey guys, I got to dash. I'm meant to be meeting my manager in half an hour. He wants me to go to Japan for the week." She sounded upset and he squeezed her hand to remind her that they'd be there if she needed them, "Ciao guys."

He didn't want to watch her leave. But knew he should stay because he couldn't really go to her meeting with her. Instead he tugged her fingers, making her look at him, "I'll call you later?"

She smiled and he was sure it wasn't fake, "I'd like that."

He grinned. Happy again and stole a few of Loki's chips (french fries) as she disappeared around the corner. That Rory had told her to ignore the paparazzi really seemed to have helped. Lee sat back in the chair and mumbled in french, "Bon repas doit commencer par la faim." As he mused on the taste and texture of the small food. Hunger really was the best spice. It even made crap taste good...

Dylan shivered in the wind, wishing he'd brought a scarf with him today or gloves or something of the sort which would make the cold go away. November had finally settled into itself and with it the steely gray skies and blustery weather. He'd almost forgotten how fast the leaves fell... Trees lined bare, disposed of all of their bright rayment, which now lay in colorful piles in the gutters and on lawns. People were wrapped snuggly in their knitted scarves and gloves, hoping to keep out the biting frost of the fresh autumn air. Everyone seemed to be in a cheery mood; maybe it was due to the recent holiday festivities-kids were stuffed with sweets and talking all about what they did the night before. Or maybe it was just the fact that a new month had arrived and everyone was looking forward to what it might have in store for them. Either way, there was a definite note of change in the atmosphere. Even the grey suited workers as they crawled out of their offices for lunch seemed more cheerful, looking forward to the christmas holidays he was sure....

Beside him, keeping pace, was Kano, carrying the other half of Rory's junk in a plastic bag they had pilfered off Amelie when they had bought the latest Terry Pratchett for his cousin. So if Kano was holding that book along with dyptique candle, Kool-Aid acid test, the blue cape, the midsommer murders series and the blue nail varnish and the book on Edith Piaf.... And he was carrying the red lipstick, drinking chocolate from a chocolaterie, truman capote, blusher, the red driving gloves and the red nail varnish as well as the special gloop.... That meant that they still had to pick up the Haruki Murakami books and Le Grand Meaulnes, all of which were in his flat. He sighed.

"We need to go to my place... I'd forgotten that so much of her junk is now at mine..." Shifting the weight of the bags, he ran a hand through his hair. He really needed a cigarette but was pretty sure that Kano wouldn't like it.

Kano nodded and he caught the edge of a smile but tried to ignore it as best he could. He couldn't tell Kano that he had a habit of letting himself be used because in his life it was the closest he came to love... Or that he hurt... Or that his body still ached. Sure before Cael he'd been involved with people but they were usually one night stands with girls who thought he was part of some band playing... They had never meant much and he had never meant much. Rory teased him, about the broken hearts he had left behind. But if he couldn't explain to her what was going on, how could he tell someone he cared about in a similar way?

High above, the purpling sky grumbled. Phantom words of a heavy cloud growling to another to another and another. People about them glance upwards and frowned and sped up. Vaguely the thought of his car came to mind... It was a shame he'd arranged to lend it to his nextdoor neighbours. He hardly used it... but it would have been useful at that moment in time. The black and grey tarmac shivered, the puddles, yellow from the passing taxis, sparkled as they were moved by the wind.

"I'll fix us coffee when we get there." He added as he saw a fleck of rain splash into one of the smaller watery mirror on the street surface. He didn't have to look at his companion to know he was probably smiling that soft, bare disguishable way he often did. It was funny how he had become accustomed to seeing the small flickers that made up Kano's visible thought... It was much easier to understand now.

"Sounds good." Kano said just loud enough for him to hear, "It's getting colder."

The silence that fell was awkward. Back in L'Ouragon it had been comfortable. In the search for the Terry Pratchett, the quips of conversation had been light, jovial, relaxed. Dylan had leant on Kano's shoulder as he used to the ladder to pull down a copy of one of the Disc-World books. He had stumbled down as he had groaned with the realisation that it wasn't the right one. Kano had caught his elbow to steady him. Their eyes had met, mirth making them act like idiots and grin quite foolishly and Kano had then gone back up the ladder, with a little more grace that he had and found the right copy. But after that something had gone wrong.

That moment in the dusty place in the back of the bookstore had smashed a delicate balance. Of course... maybe that was just to him... Kano was humming something under his breath. It was pretty... Something in G major. It would sound good on the guitar.

"It's just down here."

The street was much liek the rest of New York. Tall, many layer buildings, though this area was residential and shabbier than Manhattan or places like that. However, despite te fatigued stone, Dylan liked the place. Flowerpots with gorgonvillia and chrysanthums blew in the wind, pale lacy curtains rippled and the neighbours didn't glare when another passed. No one heard shrieking cries from next door. No body was expecting to be stabbed. It was a fairly quiet place and safe compared to his old rooms. Rory had really saved him on this one. They rounded the corner which took them to the door of his apartment building and Dylan too the stairs two at a time as they climbed to the fifth floor. Fumbling a little thanks to his numbed fingers, he unlocked the door and let them both into his studio cave.

"Umm... Just leave the stuff here and mind the paintings on your way through. I've been meaning to put them up but.... yeah... they're not important if you do knock one over but..." He was babbling, "Make yourself comfortable."

As Dylan wove his way to the kitchen area he heard a sharp intake of breath. He looked up, worried that his friend had some how hurt himself, only to blush when he realised that Kano’s eyes had fallen on a painting of Rory, her dark, doe eyes staring out of the black and white image he had done at the beginning of the year, tears were glimmering in the corners of her eyes, her lips where the only thing in colour, she’d been wearing her vamp-lip stick and so he’d painted them scarlet and slightly bruised with a cigarette dangled from them. It was one of his favourites... Though it made him feel cold thinking that Kano was looking at this stuff. All the paintings he had here were those he felt for. The one of Rory had been done after she’d come over on the verge of tears because she was so tired out and the photographer had been a brutal, chauvanistic prat. Normally she could handle herself, but not that day.

There were others of course... Ones that he had poured his soul into only to realise that they still weren’t good enough. Like the one of a couple of punks, mohicans and chains included, strolling down past Barney’s.Or the semi-self-portrait of a child on a swing, the background grey but the boy in colour and laughing. Turning away so he didn’t have to see Kano’s reaction to any of the rest, he turned to making coffee, something he had perfected over the years.

It was a matter of using the right amount of ground beans. The most common mistake of all was not using enough, resulting in a thin cup that lacked depth of flavour and the distinctive qualities that helped to make each coffee unique. He hoped that Kano would be alright with Robusta beans... They had more caffeine which was a plus and they were easier to find in the long run despite being more expensive than most. Grinding the coffee as fine as he could, he relished the scents rising up from the little brown heap on his work surface. It screamed desire. Then came the greatest rule of thumb. It was about two tablespoons of water for each six ounce cup of coffee. And never to boil the water. He glanced at the machine. All the delicacy of the coffee flavours were ruined if the water boiled. If it was just off the boil it was perfect. He mumbled to himself, slightly worried about what Kano would think about drinking stuff quite like this... Rory had taken time to appreciate it in quite the same way, though she did realise that he had learnt from Amelie, the best of the best.

“These are good Dylan.” Kano’s voice rang through the room, making him cringe slightly, blushing and cursing himself for doing so. He was glad his face wasn’t visible.

“Coffee’s up!”

Kano had settled into the sofa, eyes roaming the room, though he smiled slightly as the scent wafted across to where he was. Two steaming mugs of liquid, brown heaven. Dylan smiled, ignoring the hitch in his breathing as he watched Kano turn. Passing the blue, stripey mug to his friend he warned him that it was hot before settling down at the other end of the sofa, leaning back against the arm rest as he crossed his legs under him. He’d never quite grown out of that habit. Silence descended agin but this time he knew Kano wanted to say something. He nodded sligtly, blowing on his coffee and sipping it tentatively in case it burnt his tongue.

“So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Dylan blanched, curling down to his knees so his elbows were resting on his legs and the coffee was cradled in his hands, “I knew this was coming.”

Kano looked a little sad as he said that and guilt spread up his body, maing him shiver as they sat on the sofa together. He didn’t wan Kano to be unhappy. That was the last thing he wanted.

“I know you want answers...” He didn’t know how to say anything. Did he tell the truth, the half truth, anything but the truth? Did he ignore his conscience and plain out lie? “I can’t really give you a proper answer...”

“Dylan-”

“Things are really complicated. They’ve always been complicated. With me... Things are messed up. More than you know. Or anybody knows.”

“Is this to do with Rory?”

“No.” He ran a hand through his hair, thinking about how his cousin had asked him to go back to his natural blond, “No, it’s not so much to do with her. Though things right now aren’t helping.” He laughed lightly, not really finding anything humourous, “I’m sorry... I just don’t know how to say this stuff...”

Rory would have been able to explain things like this... She would have asked the right questions which would push the right buttons and withdraw the right answers. But he didn’t know how to start now. If he told Kano anything it wouldn’t make sense. He couldn’t talk about his English teacher because then he’d have to explain why he’d gone along with it at the beginning which would lead him to saying that ever since Cael he’d been a mess and then he’d have to reveal why that had fucked him over so badly which would lead them onto his family, his father, the fact that he was never considered his father’s son and never cared for and yet how much he’d wanted them to like him and how much it had hurt that they had moved away... He wouldn’t say that...

“I pretty much live off Rory since my parents kicked me out...”

Or maybe he should just tell the truth. Except for the bit at the end. No one could know about the professor. And he sipped at his coffee and looked across at Kano and let the expectant silence wash over them.

"It's mossy. Give me a foot up will you?" I remarked into the stuffy, bleached air over my shoulder. Sat on the bed were Lee and Mel, who both looked as if they were unwitting accomplices to something dirty. Loki, standing up lithly, shrugged and walked over. Absently I let my eyes flicker over his...rather strong....frame. Fingers, shining and blinking at me through the layer of grease, were wiped hastily onto the wall, leaving greyish streaks. I let my unclad foot lift through the cool air and rest into the cup of his warm hands. Pulling my weight up onto the shining white frame of the windowsill with clammy hands, I managed to straddle it so that one leg dangled above the spongy grey tarmac of the square courtard. It's leaves hung with oranges and golds, a lone tree stood in the corner of two sides of the building, pinks singing their symphonies as the silvering trunk slid up to the skyline in needling curves. It was struggling from the weight of it's leaves in the new york autumn, and neat piles of brown and red were stacked like coins on a dressing table underneath it.

"Dylan's gonna fucking kill us." Mell uttered, sighing and retreating into the stonewashed rasberry hood that cloaked glistening strands of dark, wet hair. Lee, a sharp movement of elbow interacting with ribcage, nodded, although a grin split his face into two, his eyes smirking at me merrily. It was not unkindness, but genuine amusement at the situation. As though he had, which he had, resigned himself to his fate as onlooker.

"I've been discharged"

"Puppy eyes shouldn't work on doctors"

"I'm not smoking"

"There's the question of..." mel's voice died slowly. <Mental stability> was the word that skulked slowly across the room, as yet unspoken. Lee frowned quickly as his own elbow interlocked with Mel's. She was more prone to beleive the doctors, having a grasp of psychology. Lee and her had argued behing the confines of the white walled corridor, pretending that rory couldn't hear, and rory had obliged them by not mentioning anything about it. The air of pretense was a flawed human mechanism but at the same time if everyone could convince hemselves, then who was to say what wasn't reality? Parameters could be shifted, yetyt at the same time rory would still have physically heard the conversations in their hushed tones, and the others would know they had occured too.

"Although the window doesn't seem an entirely sensible option...seeing as you have...after all...been discharged." Lee's voice was unplaceable, full of lilts and melodies and tangible memories of his studies in england, america and across the continents. His voice...it was blue. Everchanging blues from sources unknown and yet unquestionable.

"Have you *seen* the lobby? Full of sick people. Not.....nice."

I shrugged, shivering at the thought of all the comatose and barely alive, faces mangled, breathing tortuous. Me? I had slipped peacefully into sleep. I was...above...not... It didn't bear thinking about. I didn't want to see them because...well...too...close. My brain seemed to flicker on and off as though it were bending a series of slides through a rotating projector, each idea exclusive and yet linked by the thin film of chemicals and cellulose. Infinitely clear to visualise and yet the words were...hard. It wasn't so much confusion as lack of communication. I could express myself visually but not through... well, words. I needed a canvas. So i could mould and shape and knead and work. So that y thoughts could dance across the city and pirhouette across the..so I could get out of fucking queens. I Missed my country within a country, my kitchen aand...was the boiler fixed? The boiler was fixed. Kano fixed the boiler. DId he? Must have. They went. Did they? Ideas were confused and I was once again hit with the frustration of isolation. I needed people or i would be alone again. Nothing was worse...at the hospital, people came, but they looked at you as though you were a doll or a...

I turned to face Loki and my face split into a grin. Pulling him towards me suddenly as he turned to walk away, he fell backwards onto my knee as i ruffled his hair through my fingers and gave him a kiss on the top o his head. The other two burst into fits and he looked somewhat bemused and questioning. After a few seconds a muffled "oomph" left his mouth, all though he made no attempt to move. I pushed him back up to my feet, suprised at the weight of another human being. I hadn't been allowed to....to touch anyone. It was like being on the other side of a mirror, looking through a glass, but darkly.

He sauntered off to grab one of the bags. Now humming a tune that didn't seem to have rythm or melody or structure, but struck some sort of frequency in your brain, making you want to join but...not. The room had been picked to the bone, all my accumulated rubbish stuffed into laundry baskets and cardboard boxes and plastic bags with the names of mini markets on. Bunches of flowers were weighted with water filled bags and jutted out of one bag, whilst juxtaposed behind was a laundry basket full of high heels and books. Lee was just recovering himself.

"What should I take?" He muttered, impishly looking up at me and cracking a joy-filled smile.

"Whatever you can carry. Our goal is to empty the room as quickly as possible. I've got a small black limo - city car- sitting out front. Oy...mel, pass us those Hinfrays.."

I gestured rather wildly at the basket of shoes. She looked confused. I'd forgotten she wasn't a) into fashion and b) unwittingly an accountant for my closet, like dylan.

"The green ones. I feel like smashing jewels on the pavement. Plus sneaking up behind the paps and kindly enquiring which famous person is coming out should brighten up my day, and one can't be expected to do a thing like that without heels on....or lipstick."

"You already put lipstick on in order to read you med report from Ella."

"Precisely. Now cometh the heesleth toeth me......." a rather redundant pause occurred before I added, rather halfheartedly, "...eth"

I wore a grey silk dress with a round scoop neck and a bow on the front, a few pleats from my deccoltage to the bottom of the bust giving it detail. It was useful as it was, after all, short enough for me to straddle a wall in. As mel let the buckled stilettos drop into mt outstretched hands I ducked under the wndow, hoping to god not to become the decapitated subject of a b-horror movie. I wasn't. Folding my limbs to allow the shoes to slip onto my feet, I wriggled my toes, and sat up to look outside again. My hands fisted onto the cleats that were designed fo blinds, i tucked my right leg up and slid it over until i was sitting on the mossy side of the window, facing the courtyard ans shivering somewhat.

"Pass the blue cape." I muttered to noone in particular, and felt the wool being dutifuly pressed into my hand as Lee and, to some extent Mel , bursst into giggles again. Loki would be by now carrying the first lot of bags to the car, where a minibar awaited him. Letting go, i let myseld drop the two feet to the ground, landing like a cat and scraping my hands on the pavent. They stung mildly but made me for infinitely cooler, my war wound from the hospital. A tiny trickle of blood ran down the palm of my hand like a fistful of rubies would cascade onto a scale. I heard the door shut behind me as the others left with my stuff.

Standing up slowly and cricking my neck, I picked up the Green pebble leather duffel that was floating on the sea of grey tar. Flexing under the added wieght, I slung a brown leather messenger bag, over my shoulder. It had been beaten in with age till the leather curled into ridges and the glossy brown was laced with spiderwebs of white and black. My cape was left undone and the bow seemed to dance in the breeze, attempting to untie itself from the folded and ridged knot at it's center. I began to walk towards the opening, past the hospital bins and broken glass, till i could see cars streaming past in jittery, jolting movements. Turning the corner onto the real pavement I was struck by the brightness of the freezing autumn sky as it began to glimmer where the stormy clouds had been an hour ago. A noisy crowd of rain soaked paparazzi congealed like ants on the teps, expanding onto the road where their vans were parked and causing annoyance. At the back of the mess was a young woman, only a year or two older than me. Her straw blonde hair, was matted to her head and soaked, brown roots expsed as it lay glued to the side of her face like a cocoon. She was muttering curses and shivering. I sidled up behind her. THe poor thing was obviously awful at being a pap, what with not being catty enough to climb to the front She was anxiously trying to reload film into her camera and forcing it in, the back plate open and hanging off the hinge.

"who're you waiting for? I asked, as she finally clicked the film into place and closed the back, switching the camera on so that the whirring wing of the spool could be heard and the iso scanned.

"That supermodel chick. Her friends just came out with bags. We think she might make an appearence."

"Not through that door she won't."

"we've got people at every....crap." The girl, a fairly normal sort, turned around and her eyes widened as she saw me. I grabbed her hand with my left hand and put my right finger to my lips. She nodded sort of wildly and tried to gesture at the crowd.

"So.. why do you do....this?" I mimicked her gesture and waved a the hordes staring like vultures at the door. The psychology..it was interesting. "I mean, you look normal, reasonably attractive, bored out of your mind...."
"money"

"There are other jobs...."

"Not for photographers."

"KT auleta is looking for a paid assistant."

I turned and walked towards the car, leaving the girl somewhat despondant as she stared after me. One of the reporters finally caught sight of me as I piled into the car with loki in the front, Isaac and elizabeth sitting practically on top of each other, and lee and mel squeezed into the middle. I edged onto the end of an oily black leather seat as the driver began moving in clockwork motions. The car smelt of wet carpet, it's air thick like a curtain. My bags, shoved onto the floor by my feet, seemed to merge into the shadows like beetles. After a brief and akward pause, I finally turned to the others. A few minutes ago Dylan had received a text to retreat.

"Shoulda got a bigger car."

"Perhaps"