𝙸𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎?

𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝.

𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘.

𝙸𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎?

𝙰𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗' 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏.

𝙾𝚑, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑.

"Steve should come over if he's so miserable."

"I thought you hated him."

"No," Lennon deepened her voice and furrowed her brows on the drive to the bar. "I hate how controlling and bratty he is, but I don't hate him," she corrected him.

"Steve's not a brat," Brontë chuckled, thinking his sister couldn't have described him more childishly. It was like they were right back to being children who argued and laughed over the simplest of things.

"Steve is very much so a brat," she laughed.

"His parents could have done worse. C'mon. You know I'm right," he nudged her with his elbow and caused a wave of anxiety to rush through her body.

"Can you please focus on the road?" she asked, causing him to roll his eyes. "And just because your parents are rich and well-respected, doesn't mean you're entitled to tell people what to do or bully people who aren't you," she continued to talk about Steve with her eyes on the road in case Brontë failed to notice something alarming in the gentle snow storm.

"Steve's not a bully and if you would give him a chance, you would see he's actually a funny guy-"

Lennon scoffed. "Steve's not a bully," she repeated humorously. "That's funny."

Brontë glanced over and saw Lennon staring intently at the road with a goofy smile on her face.

"What do you mean?" Brontë asked defensively.

Lennon turned away from the windshield and looked at the side of Brontë's face in disbelief. "People talk," she began. "Rumors begin, I know. Trust me," she scoffed again. "But people talk and it seems to me like Nancy is getting along with one of the quiet kids, Jonathan... And Steve's got some words," she giggled, informing her brother of what he's missed.

"So?" he retorted. "That's totally different."

"How so?"

"Nancy is his ex-girlfriend. He's allowed to say mean things about her and about people she may or may not be dating," he shot protectively. "That's completely different than if he were to bully someone."

"Whuh-" Lennon immediately cut herself off and felt her heartbeat quicken with realization. She was going to talk about Eddie. So casually, she almost talked about Eddie and how Steve was notorious for making fun of him and calling him names to his face and behind his back. But she couldn't. Why would someone bring that up if they weren't defending him or showing some kind of liking to him?

"What?" Brontë asked flamboyantly, too caught up in the playful tone they set to have noticed Lennon's nervous and skittish eyes.

"Nothing," she shook her head and sucked on her bottom lip, thinking she could still taste his lips on hers even though they would have disappeared a while ago. "The truth is, I don't like Steve but I don't hate him."

Brontë seemed satisfied with that response and they were pulling up to the Hideout so he cut the conversation short anyway.

"You didn't have plans this weekend, right?" he asked as he climbed out of his car and followed Lennon inside.

"No. Why?" she pondered, turning back to him and making sure he wasn't too far behind before she began making her way toward the bar.

"I'm inviting Steve and some of his freshmen buddies over is all," Brontë waved at one of his co-workers and made his way behind the bar. "Just didn't want to ruin any plans if you had any..."

Lennon softly furrowed her eyebrows and leaned over the countertop as her brother disappeared into the back to clock in.

Lennon looked down at the wood beneath her elbows and shook the confusion off, turning over her shoulder and looking at the empty stage with only a drum kit to stand in its wake.

She started to get flashbacks from the last time she was there. She was sneaking glances at the stage, watching the most obscene and raw performance of her life. She could remember most of her senses being overridden by Corroded Coffin and immediately went back to that very night.

The sound of the music was only appetizing because of the fact it was live and she could hear every raunchy chord and sloppy down strum. She could hear the rasp in Eddie's voice and the vocal fry of his slower lyrics every once and a while.

The visual of the four boys banging their heads and biting their lips as they made music was a sight to behold. She could remember the way they danced and performed so passionately and once she allowed herself to watch, she didn't want to stop.

The reverberations coming from the speakers drove her over the edge. She could feel the vibrations and the energy in the music as they played it for the crowd all those weeks ago. There were very few people there but their attention on the band and the energy they created ignited something new in Lennon. Her belly felt warm like she had been drinking and she could have sworn she had goosebumps when she joined them in their appreciation for the band.

She was staring in a daze at the large bass drum when the thought of Eddie's eyes invaded her mind. From that night, she had caught him in a moment she was sure she wasn't supposed to see but she was beyond glad that she had. He let go. He was living in the moment and producing something so electric with people he loved.

Lennon could only imagine how freeing that must have felt, to create something out of passion with people who were equally as passionate about it and for people to actually enjoy the outcome.

Of course, their performance wasn't perfect, but that almost made it better. It wasn't about perfection or setting a standard only they could achieve. It wasn't about gloating or showing off their impeccable skills. They performed because it made them happy. It made others happy.

"Lenny!"

She quickly sucked in a breath of air and turned toward the sound of her brother's voice.

"Huh?"

"I was saying you should invite Max over but... You okay?" he chuckled, wiping down a glass before filling it up with iced tea.

"Yeah..."

That's when she realized she was totally out of her mind.

What the hell are you doing? What were thinking? What were you gonna do when he shows up? Run up to him and kiss him? You're fucking stupid.

"You sure?" Brontë asked, setting the drink out in front of her and craning his head to the side.

"Yeah," she nodded her head and took a sip of the drink he placed in front of her.

Brontë was being called over by one of the bartenders and Lennon was on her own.

She sat there with her own thoughts for a while. She couldn't quite comprehend what she had done.

She wondered if anyone saw her kissing Eddie. She wondered why she came to the Hideout when she could have easily asked Brontë to bring her home. She wondered what made her think it was okay to hide from him and show up at the Hideout now. She wondered why she did it in the first place.

She sat there at the bar with only her thoughts to keep her company for a while until Brontë came back. They were bullshitting for a few minutes before a few people came up for a refill simultaneously, then she was left on her own again.

She kept thinking about the times she saw Eddie walking the halls and how he never dared mess with her while she was with 'friends'. She kept thinking about all the times she avoided the cafeteria just to avoid his tempting stare. She kept thinking about the stunt he pulled in physics with Gareth. She kept sympathizing with the blond junior who seemed to just be going along with whatever Eddie said. She kept thinking about the guitar she had stored away for him. She kept thinking about that kiss.

She couldn't stop thinking about him.

She didn't know what she was going to do when she saw him. She didn't know what she thought she was going to do when she saw him. What did she expect?

But it wasn't even two hours into Brontë's shift and she lost her brother's attention entirely when a blonde walked in with frizzy hair and started chatting with Brontë over a daiquiri. However lonely as it may have seemed, his absence was soon replaced when two men walked in through the front door.

It was only six but there he was.

Eddie was walking in with Jeff, both looking casually attractive as they made their way inside like they had several times before. Eddie changed out of his Hellfire shirt and replaced it with a Metallica t-shirt, a grey and black flannel, his usual leather jacket, and the denim vest she always wondered about. She didn't know what any of his patches meant, and the few bands she recognized from the pins on his breast and his poorly sewn back were vague. Lennon hardly knew anything about them; much like Eddie.

She watched the pair make their way toward the bar and the instant Eddie's eyes locked onto her from afar, her belly turned into knots and her heart rate quickened. It was like he could hear the sound of her heart beating like it was an animal trapped in her ribcage. He smirked and there was a twinkle in his eye that ignited a fire in Lennon's churning belly as he took a seat across the bar.

He wasn't coming over? He's early. He doesn't go on stage until nine and he's just going to sit across the room? What is he doing? Why didn't he even come over to say hello?

She fiddled with the end of her straw as she watched Eddie and Jeff gain the attention of Brontë who was only a few feet away, smiling and obviously flirting with the customer with the blonde hair.

Eddie's eyes flickered from hers to Brontë's, causing Lennon to look toward her brother in question. She watched him make eye contact with Eddie who had a michvious smirk scrawled across his face and instantly, like he there was something going on between them, he quickly turned over his shoulder.

Lennon adverted her gaze to the wall of bottles that were displayed behind the three bartenders sharing the space behind the bar. She tried acting as if she hadn't noticed her classmates entering the room. She tried looking at the bottles of alcohol like she was admiring the different colored glass and unique font on the labels.

She waited a moment, waiting for Brontë's suspicion to dwindle before glancing back over to see Eddie, Jeff, and Brontë all talking amongst themselves.

There weren't many people in yet and she was able to make out a few words from across the bar.

"Oh, c'mon... law was legalized last year. You served me beer... birthday..."

Brontë then spoke but she wasn't able to decipher what he was saying. Eddie spoke the loudest which didn't seem odd but perhaps that was deliberate. Maybe that was his way of teasing her. Maybe she was supposed to figure out why he wasn't trying his luck with her while he could.

Brontë then pulled out two glasses and sprayed some coke into both of them with a look of dissatisfaction on his face the entire time. He didn't need to be hospitable to Eddie and he wasn't going to be. His priority was to serve, entertaining came second.

There was no way he could refuse to bartend but he sure as hell wasn't going to be happy about it.

Lennon looked away from the scene and pulled her straw out of her drink. She lowered the wet end of the plastic to the surface of the wood and dropped a single droplet of tea to distract herself.

She drew herself a face out of the liquid in her cup and it seemed to satisfy her brother's suspicions but it wasn't doing any good for her own.

She still couldn't figure out what Eddie was planning. She knew that was what he was doing; planning, scheming, messing with her. This just wasn't the way she thought he would do it. She never expected to see him act so compliant. She didn't think he took her seriously when she expressed her need for privacy and she thought he would playfully argue in response.

But no.

He was just sitting there on the opposite side of the bar, sitting beside Jeff and acting like he didn't just kiss her a few hours prior.

She wondered what he said to Brontë. She wondered what Brontë said to him. She had so many questions but she couldn't pull herself to be the one to walk over to him and break the silence. She didn't have it in her to initiate first contact. She couldn't do it.

She finished her tea and tapped on the glass impatiently. She kept looking around the room for answers. Perhaps there was a camcorder somewhere recording her and this was all just some silly prank. Maybe someone she knew would walk through the front doors and save her from her impossible situation. Maybe if she looked hard enough, Eddie would do something other than sit there and drink a few glasses of coke and smoke a few cigarettes.

He didn't talk to her. He didn't go over to her. He didn't even get out of his seat. Lennon was stuck staring aimlessly at the man, trying to figure out what he was doing.

She kept tapping on the rim of her empty glass with her head in her other hand. She was attentively watching Eddie and Brontë but her brother seemed happily distracted by the girl he was chatting with and Eddie didn't seem like he was going to budge any time soon.

Her thoughts became a vicious hurricane the longer she waited for one of them to make a move. She either needed Brontë to come over and talk to her so any thought about Eddie would be shoved into the back of her mind or she needed Eddie to do something risky.

She knew this was some sort of plan. This wasn't an accidental thing. Whatever he was doing was on purpose but Lennon couldn't figure out why.

Her finger started tapping more aggresively as she bore holes into Eddie's unattentive face and abruptly got to her feet. She took her glass in her hand and briskly walked over to the other end of the bar that bent toward the wall to close the tenders inside. The ends fit about six people and Jeff, Eddie, and the blonde were the only ones occupying the space.

Lennon grabbed Eddie's attention the moment she hopped out of her seat as if he were watching her from his peripherals. His eyes never left hers as she made her way through the low bustle of the room.

His eyes grew wide as she neared him but instead of stopping, she continued to walk right by him, sidling up beside Jeff.

Without skipping a beat, she insistently slammed her palm down on the countertop, rattling the glasses on top of it and gaining her brother's attention in the process.

Brontë was pulled from his conversation when the sudden sound of her hand against the bar interrupted him mid-sentence.

"Can I help you?" he asked irritably.

"Yeah," she replied. "I'm thirsty."

Brontë smiled sarcastically and flared his nose as he faced her with his full attention. "What can I get started for you?" he put on a fake voice that he often used on customers.

Lennon smirked contemptuously. "Vodka."

"Yeah, no," he took her glass and dropped it in the sink before grabbing a new one and pouring her a glass of water. "Bon appetite," he leered and briefly glanced over to see Jeff and Eddie watching Lennon as she spoke to her brother.

Once he moved down the bar a few seats she lifted her middle finger to him so as not to be seen. The blonde was staring at her like she was wildly uncomfortable all of a sudden, probably because she didn't know she was his brother.

Lennon couldn't pay much attention to her when all she could hear was snickering coming from the other side of her.

She turned to find Jeff trying to hide his amusement but Eddie didn't even try to hide the fact he was eavesdropping. He had his face in his palm and an easy smile spread across his lips.

She couldn't help but smile.

"Oh," she tilted her head and shouted over the soft music playing over the speakers. "Eddie, right?" she spoke loudly to make sure Brontë could hear her.

"That's right," Eddie responded quietly, keeping still and watching Lennon fight the grin threatening the corners of her lips.

"And Jeff?" she asked, whisking her eyes toward the man sat beside her.

"It's nice to properly meet you," he extended his hand, trying to close his smile to hide the metal in his mouth which made him self-conscious to smile.

"Likewise," she took his hand and offered him a small smile.

"Hey!" Brontë nudged her shoulder and pressed his lips together. "Talk to John if you're feelin' sociable," he grumbled disagreeably and pointed his thumb at the blond man who she drew the last time she was there.

"I'm good. Thanks," she tried to disarm her brother but he wasn't dropping the fact she was trying to talk to people that weren't good for her.

"Well, I'm not. Go," he ushered her to go but she didn't move.

"John's like thirty and I'm pretty sure I scared him away last time. I think I'll stick to people my own age," she forced a smile and used his own words against him.

"Minors shouldn't hang out with guys in their twenties. C'mon-"

"I'm nineteen, actually," Eddie butted in, pulling Brontë's attention away from his disobedient sister.

He leered and glanced back over to Lennon. Brontë was about to continue reprimanding her but a large group of people came into the bar, all looking like they had just come back from an event that was far too boring. They looked like they were in need of a party.

Brontë groaned and rolled his eyes. "Stay close, would you?" he asked unsympathetically. Without wasting another minute, he was apologizing to the blonde who took to sitting with two other girls in a booth not too far away after Brontë started taking orders from the people who recently walked inside.

"I'm sorry about my brother," she apologized to Jeff and Eddie as if she didn't know them at all.

"It's Brontë the Bitch," Eddie shrugged as he tapped the ash from one of his cigarettes. "I see he hasn't changed."

Jeff giggled and took a swig of coke from his glass. "How do you come up with so many good names for people?" Jeff turned to Eddie impressively.

"It's easy when you know the person," he replied nonchalantly. "But uh..." Eddie's eyes found their way to Lennon. "What brings you back, Seagrave? We must have done something right if our groupie came back," Eddie snickered, slinging his arm over Jeff who shot him a playful expression. They shared a moment of victory before turning back to Lennon.

"Sure," she rolled her eyes. "I thought I was going to hang out with my brother," she said tersely as her eyes rushed to the man hurrying to make drinks for the young adults that took up about a quarter of the entire building. "But he's more interested in getting laid so..." she said casually, turning back to see both Jeff and Eddie were still listening.

"Right," Eddie raised his eyebrows and smirked when he lifted his glass to his lips. "Your brother..." he trailed off, taking a drag from his cigarette immediately after hydrating his throat.

"Yeah. My brother..." Lennon grinned tightly, trying not to show Eddie just how effective his smile was on her.

Jeff noticed the growing tension between the pair and smirked. "Right," he added abruptly. "I uh... I need to use the restroom so... I will be back..." he slowly climbed out of his seat after Lennon took a step back to let him out. "Eventually," he added darkly, laying his hand on Eddie's shoulder and sneaking a mischievous wink at him as he made his way toward the bathrooms.