Disclaimer: Hey, guys! Glad to see you back! Now, before we get to the story-telling there's a couple things we have to go over first. They're pretty basic, don't worry about it If you're under 18, John Law says you shouldn't be here. But, hey, John Law isn't watching you right now (I hope). So, my underaged amigos, the choice is yours: Stay and hang with us if you want, or you can jettison outta here and wait till you're legal. Next thing. You have entered a gay fiction site (oh, goodness me!) and in doing so, you have found your way here, to a gay fiction story. How bout that? So, if you just happen to be one of those people who wandered all the way in here by mistake, and the very THOUGHT of two guys together makes the bile rise in your throat, leave. It's better for everyone involved if your mind isn't further pestered. But, hey, I was once one of the anti-everything people, too. So, when you're ready, come on back. We'd be happy to have you. The rest of you, kick back with a pair of slippers and enjoy!
Running Scared Chapter Eight By Brennan Jobse
"Ben!" Jenn Riveste cried when she saw me at the door. "Come on in, come out of the rain." She ushered me inside and looked like she was about to give me a hug, when she saw my hand. "Oh, my God. What happened to your fingers, Ben?" she asked worriedly.
"It's nothing, Jenn. The wind blew the door closed on them yesterday and I broke them."
She took my hand and looked at it the way only moms can. For all incentive purposes, Jenn was my mom. She had been for almost 9 years now. I smiled as she examined my broken appendages. Man, I was lucky. Austin, Michael, and now Jenn. All these people actually gave a damn about what happened to me. Quite the contrast from life at home.
But then I thought of Aaron and I wondered whether or not having all those people give a damn was a good or bad thing. Sure, I knew Aaron would care, but Aaron knew more than the others. He might not accept the door story. What if he pushed it and insisted that he knew my dad did it? My life as I knew it, would be fucked. And as messed up as it was right now, it was all I had.
Finally, Jenn let go of my hand and told me Aaron was in the basement. No sooner had I rounded the corner when Mr. Riveste almost ran smack into me with the terrible twins slung over each shoulder. Like his wife, he insisted that I call him by his first name.
"Hi, Scott," I smiled at the sight before me. A Kodak moment, really.
"Ben, we missed you, lately," Scott said, tightening his grip on the squirming bundles on his shoulders.
"Daddy! Let us go! We want to see Ben, too!" Sara cried excitedly at her father, kicking her little legs uselessly in the air.
"Please, Daddy..." echoed Emily.
Scott laughed. "Well... okay." The girls cheered and Scott flashed me a smile and walked right past me toward the stairs leading up to the twins' rooms. "Get a good look, girls, because you two munchkins have to clean all the toys off your floor."
"Daddeee! That's not what we meant!" they cried.
Scott ignored them. "See ya around, Ben," he called over his shoulder.
"Bye, Scott. Bye, girls!" I called back and waved at them.
"Bye, Ben!" They laughed and waved frantically at me before disappearing around a corner. What a great family.
With all the Riveste family members accounted for, though, Aaron was the only one left, and I was starting to get cold feet. I bounded down the stairs. I was determined not to let myself become afraid of being around Aaron. The guy was my best friend! Besides, if I avoided him, he'd really know something was wrong.
"Hey," I said, hopping over the back of the couch like I always did. I don't remember a single time when I went around. Weird.
He looked a little peeved. "Hi." I couldn't figure out why he would be mad already. He hadn't seen my hand yet, so he had no reason to be mad. Not at me, anyway. I wondered if something happened with Amy. I hoped not. I liked her. She and Aaron made a cute couple.
"What's the matter?" I asked, my curiosity and concern getting the best of me.
"Nothing," he answered tersely.
"Okaaay..." An uncomfortable silence followed and I glanced at him.
He caught my stare. "What?" he demanded in a biting tone of voice. I shook my head and put my hands up in a gesture of surrender. Unfortunately, that gave Aaron a perfect view of my bandaged fingers. Then the inevitable question. "What'd you do to your hand?"
"Accidentally caught it in a door yesterday and broke my fingers," I said, trying futilely to curb to nervous edge in my voice.
Aaron looked at me a long moment, then turned back to the TV. "Whatever."
"What do you mean 'Whatever'?" I asked with as much playful indignation in my voice as I could muster in my terrified state. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!
"I mean I don't think you accidentally caught them in a door and broke them," he snapped. He had escalated from a little peeved to flat out pissed.
"What the hell do you think I did? Broke them on purpose?" I asked, giving up trying to make light of the situation.
"I don't think you broke them at all."
"Okay, if I didn't break them, who the fuck did?" I asked, getting louder. I regretted saying it the instant it was out of my mouth. I knew exactly where this was going.
"Your fucking dad!" he yelled at me.
"Goddammit, Aaron..."
"The guy's a fucking psycho, Ben! And you can tell me all you like 'Oh, I fell' or 'Oh, I caught them in a door' and it won't make a fucking bit of difference! Because he's STILL gonna smack you around and you're STILL gonna cover for him, because you have this fucked up notion that maybe if you give him another chance, it'll stop! But I'm telling you, Ben, it's not gonna happen!!"
"What the hell is this?!? A moral crusade? You know, I never would have told you at all if I thought you'd flip over every little bump and bruise. You've had your share of them. Parents getting a little rough, Aaron?"
"Fuck off, Ben. MY parents don't smack me around every day."
"Neither does my dad!" I was angry by now, too. Only mine was a fearful anger. He HAD to drop this.
"Sure, Ben," he said scornfully and turned toward the TV again, arms crossed over his chest. "So, did it hurt when they snapped or did they go numb?"
Enough was enough. I left. I wasn't sticking around for any more of this 'let's interrogate Ben' bullshit. I stormed up the stairs and to the door, with Aaron calling after me to go back to my pathetic home life. Jenn saw me and tried to ask what was wrong, but I ignored her. She could ask Aaron if she really wanted to know.
It had been raining when I got to Aaron's house, but now it was really coming down. The sky, which had been gray to begin with, was a little darker now, and by the time I had gotten home, the falling rain had cooled my anger. I was just tired.
I was tired of all of it, actually. I was tired of trying so hard, I was tired of being beaten, I was tired of covering for it, I was tired of everything being so damn emotionally charged, and I was tired of hiding how I felt about Austin from the world. Which I still hadn't completely figured out.
"Fuck it," I muttered and went up to the attic.
The attic was, without a doubt, my favorite place, probably in the world. It was cleaner than most people's attics, I guess, and everything my mom owned was up there. Books, clothes, hairbrushes, doctorate certificates, furniture, pictures, baby stuff about her, baby stuff about me... Her whole life was up there, packed away in those boxes. It made me grateful and sad at the same time.
My dad never came up there, though, so I could do pretty much what I wanted with the place. A year or so ago, I had tried to set all the stuff up in there, but it just made it look cluttered and cluttered wasn't how I wanted my mom's memory. So now I packed it all back up when I was finished with it.
There were some things, though, that couldn't be packed away. There was a big green easy chair, which had sat in my mom's study, that I had put beside the little window near a set of crossbeams. The window faced the street and made this a safe place to be. If my dad came home early, I could see that, and be downstairs cleaning before he knew any different.
I grabbed a red blanket out of one box and dragged a box full of photo albums over to the chair. Flopping down in it, I picked out a book with an Anne Geddes picture on the front. The baby was dressed as a sunflower. I was planning on being there for a while, and I picked out another one so I wouldn't have to move from my comfy position. This one was black-bordered with a picture of Salvador Dali's "The Persistence of Memory" in the middle. My mom had odd variations in taste.
I flipped open the first one and skimmed through it. It was mostly baby pictures of me. There I was on my mom's lap. There I was on a blanket on the floor. There I was asleep. I finished it quickly. I had already seen this one more than once.
The black Dali, however, held a lot more interest for me. I was older in this one. Four or five. There were lots of pictures of me at the park with my mom. I wondered who took the pictures. There were photos of me playing by myself, with my mom, and with other kids. Then started the photos of me and Aaron. The very first one was of us trading. A toy truck for some gummy bears. The beginning of a beautiful friendship.
And today, I had quite possibly seen the end of it. I could count the number of times Aaron and I had fought in twelve years on one hand. And we had never EVER come to the point where we'd been screaming at each other. At that moment, I hated my dad more than anything for causing this to come between us.
Twelve years... God, we'd had some good times. And many of them were reflected in this photo album. The park, Junior League Soccer, the time our families had gone to Vancouver Island together... I looked through the window at the rainy world outside and times that hadn't been captured on film filled my head. The time we had beaten up Patrick Patterson in sixth grade because he called Julia Lang a Jap, the time he did a project on the mating habit of mammals and brought a porn tape to class, hanging out on the yard sale refugee in his basement, listening to him bitch about Napster and girls, having him listen to me bitch about guys...
Yeah, I'd had a hell of a good thing in Aaron. He was the best friend a guy could ask for. He was fun, smart, loyal, concerned... Ironically, it was precisely that concern that had driven a wedge between the two of us. Now it was there, and I didn't know what I was going to do about it. For twelve years it had been Aaron and Ben, and now the future of that hung in the balance. The more I think about it, the more I think I should have carried this wicked torch for Aaron. Love. Go figure.
I turned my attention back to the photo album, and true to form, an idea for Aaron's birthday present began forming itself in my head. It was a good idea, too, but what good was it going to be now? I miserably pushed it out of my mind.
I spent the whole rest of the afternoon up there. My thought processes raced back and forth from my mom to Aaron to the Austin situation. Over and over and over again until I thought I was going crazy. I had to get out, go take a walk or something.
I donned my raingear and headed down the street. I didn't know where I was going. All I knew was that I had to GO. I walked up and around the block a few times, then down by Sara and Emily's school, and back towards my house.
For a long time I just wandered the deserted residential streets. I didn't want to think about any of the stuff that drove me out there in the first place, so I thought about soccer instead. Coach Haverland still hadn't seen my hand. I cursed inwardly. She was going to have a field day with this.
Finally, I decided it was too cold and windy to stay outside anymore and I headed home. I had a whole bunch of chores to do. Maybe it'd keep my mind off all the shit. It didn't. But, hey, at least the house was clean. I just hoped my dad wouldn't find some non-existent flaw with it. Speaking of which, it was almost 6:00 and he wasn't home yet. Maybe he got T-boned leaving work, I thought sardonically. I immediately felt bad. I mean, I knew we didn't get along, but... But he was my dad, you know? The image of him watching me sleep the other day and his words at my mom's reception swept through my mind.
Sometimes I really hated my conscience.
I threw down the vacuum cleaner in frustration. This wasn't working. I tried watching TV, I tried reading, I tried listening to music... No luck. Just as I was about to root through the medicine cabinet for some sleeping pills to knock me out for a few hours, the doorbell rang. Whoever it is, he better not be selling something, I thought to myself.
I looked out the door. No one there. "Stupid kids," I muttered. It rang again and I flung the door open.
"Boo!" Austin jumped out from around the corner and I lurched back, startled. He took the opportunity to push me back in the house. He grinned and pinned me against the wall, excitement flashing in his vivid cerulean eyes.
"Whoa, why're you in such a good mood?" I asked, a smile creeping its way across my face, despite my rotten mood.
He smiled wider and kissed me. "I haven't seen you all day," he said, "and since when do I need a reason to be in a good mood when you're around?"
I laughed. "Flattery will get you nowhere."
"I beg to differ," he countered and kissed me again, this time longer. Mmm... this was nice... I pulled him closer to me with my right hand, and rested my injured left one on his hip. His hand found its way up to my face and he brushed his fingertips through my hair and over my cheekbones.
He pulled his face back and I opened my eyes. Big mistake. His eyes were open and he was staring at me. God, I could loose myself in those eyes so easily. It's like as soon as I let myself look into them for too long, everything else faded away. Noise. People. Renegade thoughts swirling around in my head. The whole world, gone. Poof. Just like that. And all I was left with, all I needed to be left with, was Austin.
It was he who broke the contact first. He smiled and slapped my cheek lightly. "See? Flattery got me exactly what I wanted," he said, and sauntered off down the hall.
I took a deep breath and ran a hand through my hair. He was something else, alright. I leaned against the wall for a minute, gathering my bearings. Out of nowhere, the ringing of the phone filled my kitchen.
"Hello?"
"Is this Benjamin Ghallager?" the woman's voice on the other end of the line queried.
"Yes."
"I'm from the Vancouver Department of Defense. Your father caught the plane rather suddenly and we need him to sign some papers when he gets back. Could you give him that message?"
"Uh, sure. Where did he go, again?" I was completely lost.
"To Calgary." She sounded irritated, like I should have known.
"Calgary? What for? For how long?"
"Your father has some business there that needs to be taken care of. It's going to be at least a week and a half. Honestly," she said, beginning to work herself up into a hissy fit, "he's been planning this for a week now. Don't you kids listen at all these days?"
"He didn't tell--" I started, but was cut off by a dial tone. She had hung up on me. I put the receiver back in its cradle and tried to process all this new information. My dad was gone. For ten days. In Calgary. On the one hand, I felt stung because he didn't even bother to let me know he was leaving. If that woman hadn't called, I would have had no idea. On the other hand, I was free. I could do anything I wanted. The possibilities were endless.
I heard footsteps upstairs and I remembered Austin had gone off on his own. A smile started to play itself across my face. He wanted hide-and-seek? We'd play hide-and-seek. Being as quiet as I could, I climbed up the stairs. I heard him walking nearby and I ducked into the next room. It was right across from my bedroom. My breathing sounded way too loud and I was sure he'd find me.
"Ben? Hellooo? Beeeenjaaaamiiiin... Come out, come out, where ever you are!" he called in a singsong voice. I shook my head, smiling. He was so weird sometimes.
Then he was in front of the doorway and it was time. Before he could look my way, I flew out of the doorway at him and he backed into my room. I grabbed him round the waist with my right arm and kicked his feet out from under him, causing him to fall backwards into the crook of my elbow, a foot or so above the floor.
"Give up?" I asked the bundle of startled Austin, who quickly regained his vigor.
"Never!"
So we wrestled for a while. I would like to say that I was the supreme victor, that I had the poor kid pinned again before he even got up from the last one. Alas, it wasn't so. Austin wasted me. Three times! Hey, I only had one good hand! He was gloating the third time, when I decided to speak up.
"You know, this technically isn't fair. You got to use both your hands," I complained, from my place on the floor underneath him.
"It's a good thing we aren't playing at technicalities then, isn't it?" he grinned.
"Cheater," I muttered.
"Aw, poor baby," he said, and kissed me playfully. "All better?"
"Yeah, well, just cause I'm easy..."
He laughed and jumped to his feet, offering me a hand up. "Which reminds me, there WAS a reason I came over here today."
"A reason other than to bask in my exquisite company? I'm hurt, no, WOUNDED beyond all repair. I'll probably never be the same again."
"The world will thank me later," he said with a smile.
"So what's up?" I asked, brushing off the jibe good-naturedly. Hell, he could tell me I was hideous on the soccer field, ugly, AND dumb if it made him smile like that.
"I got this in the mail," he said, thrusting a paper envelope into my hands. It looked like any old envelope. I turned it over and noticed the Canadian Space Agency decal on the front.
"The CSA?" I asked in confusion. "How come the CSA's sending you mail?"
"Just open it," he insisted. He was being all fidgety.
I shrugged and did what he asked. There was a single sheet of paper inside.
"Dear Mr. Albrecht,
I am pleased to inform you that you have been selected for the Canadian Space Agency's Youth Information Retreat in Montreal, Quebec. Congratulations!
The retreat, which will run from August 1, 2001 - August 31, 2001, is a chance for Canadian youth to get a first hand look at what the CSA, space, and astronauts and aeronautics are all about.
Enclosed is all the necessary paperwork; plane tickets, hotel reservations, insurance forms, etc. Remember that this is an all expenses paid retreat, and as such, you will be expected to behave with the utmost maturity and sophistication.
Also be reminded that because of the time duration, you will need to pass your physicals again, as well as obtain an RCMP certified copy of a clean criminal record. Both of these documents must be submitted to our headquarters no later than July 1, 2001. Should you fail to meet either of these requirements, you will be disqualified from the Space Program indefinitely.
Once again, congratulations on your achievement.
Sincerely
Jacques DeLuc, National Relations"
I looked up from the paper at Austin, who was grinning from ear to ear.
"Do you know what this means?" he asked me excitedly.
"That I get to call you Space Cowboy from now on?"
He punched my shoulder, the smile still ever apparent on his face. "Be serious. This is a CSA retreat. These are like, the biggest things in the world, next to NASA's."
"I didn't know you wanted to be an astronaut."
"When I was eleven, I saw Apollo 13 and I said, 'THAT'S what I'm gonna do.'"
"Apollo 13 made you say that?" I asked incredulously.
"And now I got it," he went on, ignoring me. "I made it, out of the hundreds of other kids who applied for it, I got it and I'm gonna go to Montreal." His eyes glinted, thrilled, at the idea.
"You know Apollo 13 was a crash movie, right?"
He ignored me again. "Only 10 people were chosen. Ten! God, I never thought I'd get it when I applied. I wasn't even going to, my dad made me apply." He grinned some more and his resemblance to one of those ADD kids without Ritalin wasn't hard to see.
"How come you didn't tell me about it when you applied?" I asked, feeling a little in the dark.
"I applied in September when we were still back in Regina. I had to write this huge essay and take all these physicals. And then I came here in November and I just forgot about it... But I GOT it now!" He was pacing the room, full of delirious energy.
"That... That's great!" I offered lamely. I didn't know what else to say. I mean, I was happy for him. Seeing him happy made me happy. But it still sounded weak, like I had downplayed his success. I felt stupid as soon as I said it.
But Austin didn't seem to mind in the least. "Yeah," he smiled, breaking his pacing for a moment to reflect. It was over as soon as it began. "But that's why I came over here. To tell you that. See, cause now I have this problem."
"What's that?"
"I gotta DO something!"
"Like what?"
"Anything! Let's go drag racing, let's rent a boat, let's go have wild and crazy sex on a park bench somewhere!" He grinned and grabbed my hands gently, being mindful of the splint. "What'dya say?"
"We could go paintballing..." I suggested, fighting a losing battle to keep my own growing excitement at bay. What can I say? Austin's moods were infectious.
He clapped his hands together. "Perfect! We can hit Subway on the way. Will your dad spaz if we borrow the truck?"
I smiled. "Only if he finds out." * * * * * * * * * * * * *
When we got back to my house hours later, we were covered, I mean COVERED, in paint. I had found a tarp in my dad's truck and put it down on the seat so we didn't get any paint on the upholstery. I didn't even want to think about what I would get broken if my dad found out we took the truck. Fuck him, I decided. He had beaten me and skipped town for a while... I was ENTITLED to some fun with my boyfriend.
"Here," he said, tossing me the keys once we were inside. I would have driven, but I wasn't 16 yet. Austin's birthday was way back on the 15 of December and he had gotten his license that day.
Yeah, so the paintballing. I don't think we had a inch of clean skin between the two of us. Red, green, fuchsia, black... You name the color and we could find it somewhere on us. And I even had a good time. I hit Austin at least as many times as he hit me. Held my own, which I was strangely pleased with. Shooting someone in the leg with a paintball gun when their back was turned... Dad would have been proud, I thought with a rueful smile. My hand hurt though. I had fallen on it trying to dodge a blue paint pellet from Austin and I could feel it beginning to twinge.
"So I'll see you tomorrow?" Austin's words snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Huh? Why?"
"Well, I'm kinda gungy and your dad is eventually gonna come home sometime tonight--"
"Stay here with me tonight," I interrupted impulsively.
"What? Are you crazy? Your dad'll walk in on us making out or something."
"My dad's in Calgary for the week. You could phone your parents and tell them my dad said you could stay over and they'd be none the wiser. We'll celebrate," I said, my little plan forming in my mind as I spoke.
He thought about it for a minute. A slow grin began to form on his perfect face. "Your dad's in Calgary?" I nodded, smiling, and he stepped toward me, took me in his arms, and kissed me deeply, his soft lips melding to mine like they had been designed with me in mind. "Wanna take a shower?" he asked in a low voice.
I nodded again, floored. Man, he was a good kisser. He led me to the bathroom and undressed me slowly. His fingertips just seemed to burst with electricity, all over my skin. He shucked his own clothes and nuzzled at my neck when we got into the shower.
"You're so beautiful, Ben," he murmured in my ear. He was so quiet I almost couldn't hear him over the rush of the water. "Stay with me always?"
Forever and ever, my brain whispered to me automatically. Dammit. I was in that 'and they lived happily ever after' mode again. I didn't trust myself when I was in that mode. Oh, well. I would deal with it later. "Anything you want, Austin," I said out loud.
"Anything?" he repeated with a small grin.
What the hell, I shrugged mentally. "Absolutely anything," I smiled. "Except girls."
"Girls?"
"Yeah. Something about the idea of you and girls just seems so... STRAIGHT. Eeew, straight people sex," I teased and wiggled my good fingers at him.
He laughed and pulled me closer. "Goofball."
"Don't pretend like you don't like it."
I was having trouble keeping my hand out of the water, so we got cleaned up and dried off faster than we would have otherwise. It was a shame, really. I was kinda looking forward to messing around with Austin in the shower. I had just finished toweling off when I felt a pair of arms snake around me from behind.
"Hey, dahlin," he said in a perfect Southern tone of voice and kissed me briefly on the lips.
I smirked and leaned my head back on his shoulder so I could look at him. "Who are you, Scarlette O'Hara?"
He threw up his hands in mock frustration and started walking towards my room, towel swathed around his hips. "Geez, a guy TRIES to be romantic..."
My smile turned into a grimace as a pang shot unexpectedly through my hand. The twinge from the paintball field wasn't getting any better. I followed Austin, holding my hand close to my abdomen as I went.
"Does it hurt?" he asked as soon as he saw me clutching my hand.
I frowned and nodded. He got up off the bed and took my hand in his, tracing over my shattered fingers. They were pretty swollen now and were starting to throb. I wondered if I should take something for them.
"You want your pills?" Austin asked me, reading my mind. He looked so concerned and it made me smile. An astronaut, beautiful, AND smart. And he was mine. Fuck the people who didn't understand us. They should be so lucky.
"Probably, yeah," I said reluctantly. I really didn't want to take them. See, I was somewhat of a lightweight. Anything over your basic painkiller put me to sleep. My super-duper codeine pills were liable to knock me out cold. We'll celebrate, my ass. Way to deliver, Ben.
Austin made me go lie down while he got my stuff. I had my little drug fix with a glass of water and lay down under the covers. The rain had mostly stopped outside. It would be a gray day tomorrow. Blah. Austin crawled in beside me and snuggled up close, his warm skin against mine, and all thoughts of tomorrow were driven from my mind. It felt so good to lie here with him. It had been almost two months since that first night, and I hadn't had a decent sleep since.
We talked for a little while about nothing, but pretty soon I could feel my eyelids start to get heavy. I fell asleep that night, spooned into Austin's chest with his arm on my stomach. It was the best sleep I had had in ages. And while some people will debate that it was the drugs, I have a feeling it was something else. * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The rest of the weekend passed in a blur of movies, food, idle chatter, and yes, celebration. It was great.
So great, in fact, that when Monday rolled around, I had forgotten all about my fight with Aaron. That is, until I went to World Issues class that morning. I walked into the room, and of course, everyone noticed my hand and wanted to know what happened to it. Everyone except Aaron. When the crowd cleared away, he was studying his book. I knew he wasn't reading it. I had watched him watch me tell the kids about my hand. He looked at me suddenly, searched my face for a few seconds, then shook his head and turned his attention back on his book.
It was then that I thought I might have lost Aaron for good. I guess in the back of my mind, I always thought that on Monday it would be over. A thing of the past. Another pothole in our friendship that we could say we had gotten over and were that much stronger for it. But the pothole was quickly becoming a gorge, a canyon that stretched farther and farther every day that we put off crossing it.
And I was worried... that if we didn't do it soon, it would too far to see the other side.
Brennan's Ramblings: Aah!! I missed you guys! Yeah, I know. My bad. :) Sorry I been kinda AWOL the last couple days. Driver's Ed takes up a lotta time, you know? And then I started reading, and my folks shipped me off to the lake for a week and a half, and it all just got out of hand. Anyway, so here it is. Chapter Eight. Now, before I get a bunch of emails telling me how BAD I bombed that whole CSA thing, lemme explain. :) CSA's server's down. Consequently, I have ZERO info on it. So, I did what any fiction writer does when they don't know what they're talking about. I made it up as best I could. Aren't I the bright one? Yeah, well, you guys don't hang around for my beauty, right? :) Email me at bjobse414@hotmail.com
The Recs: As I write this kickin little blurb at the end here, it is 4:47 in the morning. And, me being the slightly peculiar being that I am, I'm in the mood for some science-fiction. What about you guys? You wanna read some cool sci-fi? You'll love it, I guarantee it. And then it's gonna drive you crazy that the guy doesn't put out chapters more often. Yeah, yeah. Join the club. Anyway, here's the URLs. www.studflower.com/comicality OR www.ghouldrool.com/comicality All you gotta do is type in one of the two URLs, click on Stories at the left and read Gone From Daylight. Vampires and their inner circle on the streets of Chicago. Very cool. Now, currently, the studflower one is down, but it could be up and running again at any time so check it out if you've got some time. I really think you guys'll like this one. Enjoy!