A sickly feeling of anxiety settled in the pit of Rosemary's stomach. It was like hands had clawed up her throat and squeezed, enabling her to speak. She wiped her sweaty, clammy hands on her jeans, rose her trembling fist, and knocked three times on the door. Davy told her not to worry too much, but she couldn't help but do exactly that.

The door swung open, revealing an equally nervous Davy. Though he didn't really show it, Rosemary could see it.

"Rosy," he smiled, leaning forward and pecking her lips. "Hi baby."

"Hi," Rosemary shakily grinned.

"He's in the living room," Davy said. "Come on. I'll introduce you."

As he lead her down the hallway, panic rose inside Rosemary like bile in her body. She felt nerves tingling like being tickled with a small feather. Her pulse quickened with each step she took. She stopped in her tracks before Davy could push her into the living room.

Davy turned to face her. "Alright?" he asked.

Rosemary shook her head. "I don't think I can do this," she croaked.

"Ah, come on," Davy said gently. "He'll love you! I mean, I already do." He winked.

Rosemary couldn't resist the roll of her eyes. "What if I say something stupid?"

"You won't," Davy assured her. "Just be yourself."

"I've been myself so many times with different people," Rosemary crossed her arms. "It's lead me to deep shit."

Being herself has made her go though hell in school. Before she met Carol, nobody had accepted her as a person. Just by being herself, she hadn't found a friend until she met Carol.

"Don't worry your pretty self," Davy sighed. "This isn't the past, Rosy. Those people you've met are insane, alright? Besides, Dad's easy."

Rosemary bit her lip. "You sure?" she asked in a small voice.

"I know my dad better than anyone," Davy smirked. "Of course I'm sure."

Rosemary stared at the floor, suddenly finding the red-orange carpet very interesting. A wave of dread washed her over. Something was gonna happen, she was sure of it. But she agreed. She allowed Davy to take ahold of her shaking hand and pull her to the living room. Inside, a well-dressed man sat on the couch with his hands placed firmly on his lap, a pleasant smile lighting up his face.

"Hi Dad," Davy greeted.

"Hello Davy," Mr. Jones clapped his son on the shoulder as he stood up from his seat. He turned to a pale Rosemary and flashed her a kind smile. "And who is this lovely lady?"

Rosemary blushed. Davy squeezed her hand.

"Dad, this is my... friend," he said carefully. Mr. Jones chuckled as Davy's cheeks flushed a deep red. He coughed uncomfortably. "This is Rosy... erm, Rosemary."

"How do you do?" Mr. Jones stretched out his hand for Rosemary to grab. "I'm Davy's father, if you haven't guessed."

Rosemary giggled nervously. "Rosemary Ackers," she replied, grasping his hand.

Mr. Jones' smile slowly faded. His frame stiffened as his and Rosemary's handshake slowed its pace. A frown took place upon his face. His eyes darted up and down, examining Rosemary from head to toe.

"Ackers?" he repeated quietly.

"Yes," Rosemary nodded.

"Would your father happen to be Ronald Ackers?" Mr. Jones asked.

Rosemary nearly jumped in surprise. Taken aback by the question, she stuttered, "Y-yes."

She and Davy exchanged questioning and nervous glances. Mr. Jones swiftly released her hand, as if he touched something greasy. A look of incredulous and disgust was now worn upon his face.

"Dad?" Davy said hesitantly.

"Out," Mr. Jones breathed out.

"I... Sorry?" Rosemary's eyes widened.

"Out!" Mr. Jones shouted, startling her and Davy. "Get out!"

"Dad!" Davy gasped.

"Get out of my house!" Mr. Jones placed a rough hand on Rosemary's back and pushed her towards the hallway, leading her towards the door.

"Dad, what the hell's wrong with you!" Davy yelled.

"I don't want to see you in this house ever again!" Mr. Jones huffed.

"But... I... Davy!" Rosemary choked, peering over his shoulder to look at a horrified Davy.

"Get out!" Mr. Jones screamed, shoving her out the door.

"Wait-"

The door slammed shut with a loud bang. Rosemary winced. She stood there, facing the door with a shocked look etched upon her chalk-white face.

"What was that for?" she heard Davy exclaim.

"Davy, I don't want you to see that girl ever again, got it?" Mr. Jones' voice said firmly.

"What... but Dad...!"

"Got it?"

Rosemary sucked in a sharp, shaky breath. This hadn't gone as planned.

"Carol!"

Rosemary and Russell pushed through the sea of people wandering about, searching for Carol. The fire that danced upon and through the apartment building flicked the flames dangerously like a raging tiger. It was an ocean of red, orange, and yellow. A blazing, hot tornado. The flames were dancing demons. It glowed a bright fluorescent light. Terrifying.

"Carol!" Rosemary called out fearfully.

No response. Carol was nowhere in sight.

"Russell, what if she's still in there?" Rosemary gasped.

"I've already asked if anyone else was in there," Russell pointed out nervously. "She's got to be around here somewhere."

Tears of fear and sorrow streamed down Rosemary's cheeks. She knelt down on the cobblestone ground and placed her hands over her mouth. Russell bent down beside her, sliding a comforting arm around her trembling shoulders and pulling her close to his chest.

"Russell, she's my best friend," she whimpered.

"I know, love, I know," Russell soothed.

"Rose!" a voice cried.

Rosemary gasped. She whipped around, frantically scanning the area. Behind her, a somewhat relieved Carol was sprinting towards her and Russell. Rosemary let out a cry of amazement as she jumped to her feet, pulling away from Russell's embrace. She threw her arms around Carol.

"Ok... Rose, I'm ok," Carol assured her.

"Carol, I swear to God, if you ever scare me like that again, I will kill you," Rosemary sobbed.

Carol silently chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

The girls and Russell turned to face the apartment building. What should have been a good day quickly turned into a bad one. Rosemary and Carol's home was gone.

***

"She's the same little girl who hangs around my door... uh..." Davy mentally cursed himself; he had been at this for God knows how long.

"No, Davy, you've got it wrong again!" Don said, annoyed.

"Sorry," Davy mumbled.

"Get it together," Don snapped. "You have to do it again."

"The whole thing?" Davy groaned.

Don glared. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

Davy sighed exasperatedly and shook his head. "No," he muttered.

It took awhile, but soon, Davy managed to finally finish the song, to which Don had said, "It's about time!" He drove back to the pad in the Monkeemobile, thoughts of her tracing his mind the whole time. She's gone now. Pull yourself together, she's not coming back.

Davy pushed the door open to the pad and stepped in. Mike, Peter, and Micky sat on the couch side by side with their arms crossed. Davy's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Um... hey," he waved awkwardly.

"What's going on?" Micky questioned as he stood up.

"What d'you mean?"

"You're upset. Why?"

Davy turned his gaze from Micky to Mike and Peter. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet at the stares he was granted and shrugged.

"Rough day," he replied.

His three friends didn't utter a response, so he took his chance and headed towards the kitchen. Until Mike spoke up.

"Davy, who's Rosemary?"