Freddie can hardly keeps his eyes open. He feels loopy and exhausted. He's unsure if it's the sleepless nights or the new rounds of medication pumping through his veins. He tries to remain calm as he flicks his brain trying to think of a reason for Charlie leaving in the dead of the night. He can't think back to anything that could have upset her— not recently, anyway.

"I've called everyone. No one has seen her since the day before she snuck off!," Cherie clutches her phone in one hand, our house phone hangs in the other. "It's been days, Freddie! Where could she be?!"

Freddie lets a long sigh out, fixing his face to brighten a bit when he sees Cherie's started another sniffling cry as she walks forward into his waiting arms. He hugs her tightly, breathing in the comfort of her air, nuzzling his face against the top of her head.

"We'll find her...or she'll come back to us soon on her own," he pulls away a bit, wiping the tears from Cherie's face as they both make their way to the couch. They've made a steak out in their sitting room, prepared to run for the door the moment they hear it open.

"She's got to be with him, don't you think? Do you think she's with Sid?"

Freddie's blood boils to think of how many nights his daughter has spent with that low-life, disgusting pig. As far as he's concerned, Sid isn't good enough— no one is good enough for his precious baby girl. He wishes Charlie was wise enough to see that for herself, but he knows it's simply a part of teenage rebellion. He knows this'll pass. It just has to.

"We'll find her, Cher. They can't have gotten too far...," As they sit wrapped in one another's comfort, the cellphone in Cherie's hand buzzed and she almost ignores the alert.

"What does that say? Who is it?," Freddie sits up straighter, relying on the hearsay from family and friends to track down their oldest daughter isn't the best option, but it's their only option right now.

"It's nothing— just a tabloid update. They always send notifications to my phone— oh my god!"

Cherie's mouth drops open once her eyes skim the headline of the celebrity news update. "Freddie, look at this!," She hands him the phone, nibbling on her bleeding thumb nail that she's already chomped to the nail he'd as Freddie scans the article.

He throws the phone down on the couch as he storms out of the room, shouting profanities at the top of his lungs about his plans to capture and murder his daughters boyfriend.

Cherie finally gets a chance to read the article, but when she opens it, her breath catches in her throat. There in HD color is a photo of an underaged Charlie wearing nothing but a bra and panties. It's a screen shot from a text message reading: "For your eyes only ❤️"

"I don't care if you don't handle these type of affairs! This is my daughter! She's underage and this is on display for the public without my consent! And surely, without hers, too!," Freddie's words fly out of his mouth as he walks back into the sitting room.

While he listens to Miami speak his advise on the other end of the line, the front door lock switches open and the door slowly creaks open as Charlie walks into the house.

"And just where the hell have you been!?— Beach, I'll have to calm you back," Freddie cAnt keep his thoughts straight as he hangs up the phone, fuming.

"Charlie! We're so happy that you're safe! Aren't we, Freddie...," Cherie holds a whimpering Charlie in her arms as she ushers her into the sitting room now, eyes warning Freddie against any arguments.

He takes a moment to join them, drying his sweaty palms on the pants of his pajamas, taking long, slow breaths to get his head on straight to tackle one crisis at a time. He almost has a grip on things, that is, until Richie stomps down the stairs, his robe quickly swishing behind him as he announces what's already been found.

"This piece of shit sent sexts to the media! What the fuck is she doing!"

"Richie...," Freddie warns, trying to decrease the amount of anger rolling about the room.

"No— no. I'm right on this one. I was right from the very start. He's no good for her! Why didn't anyone listen to me!"

"He didn't mean for the photos to get out! It's my fault! I should've never sent them! It was an accident— someone stole his phone!," Charlie cries, coming into view from the other room.

There's a rapid tapping at the door, making all of them quickly glance at each other, wondering who it might be. While Richie and Charlie continue to bicker back and forth, Cherie walks over to answer it.

The door swings open and Cherie's already for her finger wagging in the face of the reckless boy who's caused this whole mess in the first place. "What do you think you're doing showing up here! Get the hell away from my house and stay away from our daughter-"

But she doesn't even get to sucker punch him the way that she's imaged doing for days! Richie moves quickly, side-sweeping his mother out of the way to knock Sid down the front step in a forceful tackle.

"Richie!!! STOP !!!," He's slightly aware of the screams. The urgent pleads from his twin sister, heartbroken and confused as she watches Richie lay into Sid with steady gusts of fury.

He grits his teeth, unable to see anything past the blinding rage he unleashes two swings at a time. His fists move rapidly causing loud cracks from pummeling Sids face in as the spatters of blood from a busted nose and lip splash into their clothing.

"Papi— do something!!," Charlie squeezes one of Freddie's crossed arms, but he judges her away. He's satisfied to see his only son handling the conflict. He waits another moment, crossing his legs now too as he leans, smirking triumphantly in the doorway.

The young boys battle it out, even causing the neighbors to start peering out of their windows to see what the commotion is all about. Sid takes dominance, using the cement as a target for the back of Richie head— one, two smacks against the cold ground. Richie's roaring grunt kicks up his adrenaline as he rolls the two of them over, taking the lead once again.

"Alright, Rich," Freddie says in a much too quiet voice, humming softly.

He waits another second, watching his son run out of energy as he grips onto Sids slippery, gel-infused hair, each punch becoming slower, but still making connection.

"Richard! That's enough!!," Freddie bellows, trollopping down the steps in his house slippers. He lifts a tired Richie up by the shoulders, swinging him off of the groaning boy that lay on the concrete.

"Have enough marks on you now, hmm Sid?," Freddie chuckles, bending down to the boys face. How he wishes to lay into the boy himself, but he knows a sneaky little creep like him will only cause more trouble by way of lawsuit or whatever other money-hungry schemes could come about.

Richie touches the tender part of his head where a small gash has sprouted a leak. He checks his fingers, seeing the red gushes spread on the tips. "He hurt you! Let me see!," Charlie can't believe she's been so blind. She can't believe her loving, caring Sid could retaliate in such a cruel way. Using the concrete grounds as a weapon— that's not a fair fight!

Cherie hurries into the house to grab a cloth and a clean towel to stop the bleeding. She comes back in a flash, pressing the wound on Richie's head.

Sid sits up spitting out a mouthful of blood from his mouth as he rollls over, reaching a hand out towards Charlie and Cherie. "Charlie...," he breathes.

"Fuck off, Sid! Stay away from me!"

Freddie laughs, staring down at the crippled boy, his long legs holding him in place as he waits for Sid to get up and leave. Charlie takes Richie into the house, her biggest concern is for her brother. In her mind, nothing could have come between her and her first true love, except where her brothers safety is concerned.

With his family safely inside the house, and Sid wobbling to his feet, Freddie takes the quick steps to grip Sid by his neck, pressing the boys Adam's apple into his throat with a strong hold.

"The next time I see you, you'll be an adult and I won't hesitate to tear you something rich myself!," He lets go, turns with a scoff and walks back inside.