DANTE

"She'll say yes. There's no way she won't," Sky says, sprawled out on his hotel bed.

"In my head, I know that, but I feel anxious," Turner says, sitting next to Sky and flipping through the T.V. channels. "This is a big deal. Melissa will officially be a part of our family." Turner's ecstatic gaze turns into one of dread. "Hell, Sky, Alex might want to start his own family, a real family. Then where the hell will we be?"

"Turn, you need to chill. Alex is the most dependable person I know, aside from you. He's not going to drop us because he's getting married. At least...no, I'm sure he won't."

Well, he is ninety-eight percent sure, but there's no need to tell Turner that. The guitarist throws Sky a dubious look before they return to the television. Neither one of them is really absorbing what's going on in Top Model—except for: "Laa-la-laa-la-la-laa..." (the show's annoying ass music). That shit is totally registering in a bee in your ear way.

"Yo, where's Christian?" Sky realizes.

"Where is he usually? Most likely he's screwing Natasha." Turner snorts.

"Oh my, is that a hint of jealousy, I hear? We could fix you up too if you weren't so shy."

"I'm not shy," Turner mumbles.

Before Sky can tease him further, shuffling feet outside the door, followed by a soft knock, interrupts them. As they expected, a beaming Alex and a giddy Melissa are on their doorstep. Melissa holds up her hand, an engagement ring sparkling on her finger. Turner throws himself on top of them in a huge group hug, showering them with praise. As they break apart, Sky walks over and gives Melissa a hug. Then, he moves on to Alex, clearing his throat around the lump that somehow formed there.

"Good job, man. She's a helluva woman. I'm happy for you," Sky whispers into Alex's ear during their bear hug. And he is. But at the same time...Turner's right. This might be the death of them.

"Thanks. That means a lot," Alex says. "Both of you are going to be my groomsmen!"

Sky feigns a wounded gasp.

"I thought I was going to be the best man!"

Turner has stored away some wine for when everything was official. He rushes to grab it and juggles the bottle and a few plastic cups.

"To Alex and Melissa. The most perfect couple I've ever met. To your happiness, and—" Turner chokes up.

"Ahhhh," Melissa waters up herself as she pulls him into another hug.

"I'm fine. Just happy for you guys." With no further ado, Turner raises his glass. The others follow suit, clinking their cups together.

"Hot damn, this is good, Turn," Alex says.

"Of course it is. I have excellent taste," Turner teases.

The foursome celebrates the fact love exists. Even if it is damn hard to find. An unspoken rule is made to not bring up Christian's absence. Alex and Christian may have patched things up, but there's still some tension.

Finally, Alex stands up.

"It's been nice hanging out guys, but we should probably head next door. Right, Melissa?"

Sky and Turner exchange cheeky grins. It's clear what the two are "heading over" to do as the both of them turn beat red.

"Thanks for letting us steal your room, Sky." Melissa manages to get out around her embarrassment.

"No problem. You guys...'sleep tight,'" Sky waves at them as they leave. After they're gone, he falls back onto Turner's bed, staring up at the plain ceiling.

"Turn...do you think we'll be that happy? To have someone like that?" Turner settles down next to him in contemplation.

"I don't know, Sky. But..." Turner proceeds in a singsong voice. "But hey! I love you. You love me. We're best friends like friends should—"

"Barney?! Oh, hellll no."

The two burst into laughter. Then, Sky says, "You're kind of right though. I would be lost without you. Not to sound gay or whatever, but l love you, Turn."

"I love you too," Turner says. His expression is unreadable; but Sky doesn't think much of it. Well that, and the fact a loud crash outside interrupts their heart to heart.

"What the hell." Sky gets up hurriedly. Turner pulls on his arm as he motions for him to listen. There is the sound of girls giggling and more random banging (pun intended).

"It's some drunken idiots," Turner says. He and Sky freeze when they hear whoever it is playing with the lock on their door.

"Am I going to have to go kung fu all over somebody's ass?" Sky mutters, already in a fighting stance.

"Yoohoooo. Turner, my love." There is a short hiccup, then girlish laughter. "Honey, I'm home!"

"It's our drunken idiot." Turner resigns himself. Laughing, Sky throws the door open.

The mighty Christian wobbles upon their threshold, one arm hugging the doorframe and the other shrink-wrap tight around some not-so-cute girl. Another young lady lingers behind them.

"Sky! Thank you! Forgot my key." Christian squeezes Sky into a hug that ends up being Sky holding him up.

"Christian, what are you doing?" Turner asks.

"I left my wallet. I came back to get some necessary supplies—and my key, of course!" Christian leans in towards them, speaking in what he thinks is a whisper.

"Cindy and Mindy are ready to go if you get me."

"Yes. I get you. Much too clearly," Turner frowns while Sky shakes his head in amusement.

Cindy and Mindy? Those can't be the girls' real names. It's too perfect for a porno. Which is probably why Christian picked them up.

"You guys should come. Then we could turn it into a real party," Candy, or Cici, or whoever she is, says.

"I don't do those kinds of parties." Christian jumps in warily.

"Thanks, but we're good here," Turner declines. Regardless, the girls aren't giving up easily. Mandy eyes Sky like a tiger.

"You are my favorite singer," she slurs, making her way over to him.

"Thanks." Sky holds back his laughter, but he's completely unimpressed. Like most musicians, he's been through his groupie phase. Christian, however, never wants to leave his.

"I love all your songs. All of them."

"Me too!" Cici chimes in.

Mandy stares up at him with what she probably considers a seductive look.

"My all-time favorite song is Gracie."

At the mention of her name, Sky tenses up. Please, God. No.

"I like that one too!" Candy squeals. The two girls start singing the lyrics at a horrible pitch.

"Hey, Gracie. Sunflower girl with daisy chains...As we fall I will catch you, each and every time..."

He wants to shut his ears, block it out. But the words are resounding in his head.

I will catch you, each and every time.

But he didn't.

Gracie.

Since his dad's death, Sky's been a loaded gun. Gracie is the trigger, the final piece to this fucked up puzzle. Frozen, Sky vaguely notices Turner arguing with Christian.

"Go with one of them to their place. I don't care, but you need to leave." Turner findsChristian's wallet and throws it at him. He's pissed and frantic, and Sky knows it's on his behalf.

"What the hell! It's my room too." Christian fights back.

"Not right now, it isn't. Not until you sober up and drop off your one night stands."

"Hey!" Mindy starts to protest, but one fearsome look from Turner has her shutting her trap. After a few more heated words, Christian gives in.

"Whatever. We're leaving, but you're seriously tripping, Turner."

He does an about face and leads the girls out, slamming the door dramatically. A rush of relief washes over Sky at their departure, but he struggles to refocus, to reorient himself from seeing anything other than the past. Luckily, Turner is there, bringing him back to reality.

"Sky, look at me. Are you okay?"

Sky shakes his head, answering honestly.

His mind is in a million places and his heart is in worse shape.

"Sit down. I'll get you a glass of water or something."

Turner mothers over him but Sky refuses to meet his friend's concerned gaze. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Turner opening his mouth to speak.

"Don't. I can't take it."

"Okay. But we do need to talk soon, about everything."

"Not tonight. I want to go to bed."

Sky hopes Turner will take a hint and leave the room.

"Okay," Turner says. "We'll get some sleep."

The unspoken "I'm not leaving you" hangs between them. Turner slips into his bed and cuts the lights. Leaving Sky grateful for the peace and quiet.

Then again, having the lights off blocks everything else out, forcing him to fill the black space with his own images. Forces him to relive his worst nightmares...

Sky was only fourteen years old. He was fourteen and Gracie was ten when it happened. When Sky's father killed his little sister.

It had been another dreadful day in the rickety, gray house Sky and his sister, Gracie, grew up in. Their good ol' dad was drunk off his ass as usual. Sky came home past curfew, and his dad started screaming at him over where he'd been. Their "disagreement," led to them arguing, which of course, led to Sky's dad slapping him around like a volleyball. Sky fought back, but his dad was bigger and stronger. He landed on the floor—and that's when Gracie came in. She was pleading, begging for her dad to stop.

"Go back to your room, Gracie. Lock the door," Sky commanded. It was their protocol for whenever their dad flew into his drunken rages. But Gracie was done seeing her brother bruised and broken.

"No!" She protested, grabbing onto their father's arm.

"Stay back, girl!"

Sky saw the tragedy happening, but he wasn't able to stop it in time.

David St. James pushed his daughter away, but with his strength, he threw her halfway across the room—and right into the sharp edge of the kitchen table.

As Sky saw his sister fall, his heart stopped, squeezing up tight within his chest. She laid there limply, unresponsive no matter how much Sky called her name. He scrambled across the floor as quickly as he could despite his injured leg. When he reached her, he realized any more attempts to wake her were futile. His baby sister's blood was seeping out from a vicious gash on her head. The bright red fluid matted her beautiful, auburn hair, staining the floor, bringing death and sorrow with every single drop that spilled.

Distraught, destroyed, filled with rage, Sky turned to confront his father, but the man was gone. He'd fled from his crime without any regard for his young daughter lying lifeless on the floor.

After that, Sky called Turner who then urged him to contact the police. When they came, he answered all their questions and let Turner and his mom take him home with them. But through it all, he was merely going through the motions. Even when Sky found out they'd captured his father, he only felt a minor sense of relief. The police found him at his favorite bar, in such an intoxicated state, he was openly weeping and confessing to the bartender about what he'd done.

None of it mattered. Putting his dad away in jail didn't change the depths of Sky's anger and grief. Because inside, he was replaying what happened over and over again. Poor, beloved Gracie, brutally murdered. Gone forever when she was so young. Inside, he was reliving everything, and thinking to himself:

It's my fault.

Despite the fact his dad did the crime, Sky's the one to blame. He was supposed to protect her, to love her and not see her hurt like their dad hurt him. And this truth, above all else, is what's been haunting Sky since he found out about his dad's death. With his father truly gone, there's no one left to condemn but himself.

Sky pulls the covers closer. He huddles underneath the sheets, praying to fall asleep so he and his thoughts can be comatose.

When he does get some shuteye, Sky's dreams are fuzzy. But as he wakes up, it's with a sense of dread, the image of blood, and the sounds of a girl screaming, lingering subconsciously. Looking out the hotel window, the dawn is breaking, and Sky can already tell: it's going to be a hell of a long day.

*** The traumatic scars of his past are eating away at Sky but will he shrug it off as just "a few small bruises?" Or do you think he'll be forced to deal with his trauma? Let me know! ***

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