"Vienna, wake up. We're leaving in 20!" Bishop said, banging on my door. I woke up with a start and sat up, rubbing my eyes. My phone read 9:30 am. I groaned, but dragged myself out of bed anyways.

     "What do I wearrrrr?" I loudly whined through my closed door.

     "Whatever you want," Bishop called back, in the typical unhelpful boy fashion.

     "Well, what are you wearing?"

     "Both of you shut the fuck up," Finn yelled, obviously not a morning person.

     I pouted, but headed obediently to my closet anyways. I stood in front of it for a minute, just staring and trying to wake up, before I finally started to rifle through it. I tried on many different outfits, before finally deciding on a sweater, a skirt, and tights. I put some makeup on and finished getting ready. By the time I was done, Bishop and Finn were waiting by the door.

     "About time," Finn grumbled, wrenching open the door.

     "Am I too overdressed?" I asked Bishop, eyeing his sweater and jeans, as we walked out the door.

     "No, you look," he paused, scanning me, and I felt my cheeks redden. "Great. You look really good."

     "Thank you," I said, dropping my eyes to the floor and smiling.

     We hopped on the subway and started heading towards Queens. "You gonna go see your parents?" Bishop asked Finn.

     Finn groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "No."

     "Why not?" I asked, against my better judgment. "I'm sure they'd be happy to see you," I said.

     Finn just shot me a hard glare and then ignored me. I fidgeted uncomfortably, shooting a confused glance at Bishop.

     "He doesn't like holidays," he whispered near my ear, shrugging.

     I nodded, eyes wide. Finn was staring out the window, watching a stop fly by. He looked sad, I thought, so I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him, squeezing his torso in a hug.

     He immediately pushed me away from him, not so gently. "Don't touch me."

     I shrugged. "Worth a shot."

     We got off the subway a few minutes later, stepping into the chilly fall air. I held my jacket close to my body, spitting hair out that flew into my mouth. We walked a couple blocks, before arriving at a small home, with some paint peeling off the sides.

     "Home sweet home," Bishop said, looking back at me with a small smile. We climbed the steps, and Bishop pushed open the door. We were immediately met with a blast of heat and lots of yelling.

     "They're here!" A lady loudly called, bustling around the corner. She had light brown hair and blue eyes, and her face was lit up with a huge smile. She threw her arms around Bishop and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"You just saw me like two weeks ago!" Bishop protested, laughing, but still hugging her back.

She ignored him and turned to Finn, yelling equally as loudly and pulling him down into a hug as well. "Finny, my boy!" He protested much less when she hugged him than he did when I tried.

Then she spun to face me, her face lighting up in delight. "Well, this must be the famous Vienna. I've heard so much about you!" She gripped me tightly, her hair smelling like lavender.

"It's great to meet you Mrs. Lance. Thank you so much for letting me invade your holiday!" I couldn't help but smile at all of her excitement.

     "Call me Debbie, and I don't want to hear any more thank you's. You're welcome here. Now come, come meet everybody." She whirled me towards the kitchen, barely leaving time for Bishop to mutter a quick apology in my ear, before I disappeared around the corner.

     The kitchen was filled with plenty of Bishop's relatives, all intoxicated and yelling over each other. Around 40 eyes swiveled towards me. My eyes widened, and I felt a blush light up my cheeks. "Uh, hi," I said, as the room momentarily silenced.

     "Everyone, this is Vienna, the one I've been telling you about," Debbie said from over my shoulder, her hands rubbing my arms. I smiled shyly, internally trying to will my friends into the room.

     I was introduced to the whole room, not that I absorbed a single name or their relation to Bishop. I smiled and nodded the whole way, repeating my name back to every introduction what felt like about a million times.

     Finally, I felt Bishop grab my arm, as he came to my rescue. "Okay, okay, that's enough, mom. Let her breathe," he said, laughing at her overzealousness.

     "Sorry, sorry," she said, waving him away. "Bish, sweetie, get the girl a drink."

     "Wine?" He asked me.

     "Red," I said, nodding affirmatively, my eyes wide to convey my sense of urgency. I didn't want him to leave my side for long.

     "Be right back," he promised solemnly, like a soldier heading off to battle.

     I slapped a smile on and turned back to his mother. "You know, I'm so glad you decided to come today. The boys just adore you," she said, to which my cheeks flooded with red once again.

     "Aw, thank you," I said sheepishly. "It's been great living with them."

"You're not letting Finn scare you too much?" She questioned, nodding her head towards the other side of the room, where Finn was talking to Danny.

"Nah, I can hold my own," I followed her eyes to him. He felt my gaze and glared before snapping his eyes back towards Danny. "Sometimes," I amended.

     "He's a sweetheart deep down, I promise you that. His bark is much stronger than his bite, you'll see." I wasn't sure I believed her, but before I could protest, Bishop was back with my wine. Danny was close behind him, wishing me a happy Thanksgiving.

     Bishop and I clinked our glasses together, and I took a hefty sip of my wine. We just chatted with his family, drank wine, and ate some appetizers for a long while, until the door to the backyard opened and a man came rushing in, carrying a large cooked turkey. "Food's ready!" He called, as people scrambled out of his way and cleared a path to the kitchen table.

     "My dad," Bishop explained, before calling him over. He was a man of about fifty, one of those guys that you could tell was buff back in his prime. He had Bishop's eyes and a charming smile. When he spoke, I could tell where Danny's ability to talk himself out of and into every situation came from. He introduced himself as Clark.

    "It's nice to meet you, sir," I said, as I shook his hand. Before he could answer, the house phone rang. His dad excused himself and walked away to answer it.

     "That's weird, nobody ever calls the home phone," Danny said, wrinkling his eyebrows together. I watched Clark's face as the person on the other line spoke.

     "Understood, yeah, I'll let him know. Uh, thanks for calling." He hung up the phone, and his face was white like he had seen a ghost. "Uh, Finn?" he called, concern written all over his face.

     "Yes, sir?" Finn was leaned against the wall, chatting with an aunt or a cousin of Bishop. He made his way over to Mr. Lance.

     Bishop and I exchanged glances and moved to stand behind Finn. Bishop touched my back lightly with his fingertips.

     "Uh, kid, that was your father. I'm sorry to tell you this, but, um, your mom. She's dead. She died last night."

     "What?" Finn asked, almost laughing. He gripped his beer so tight that his knuckles turned white. "What? How? Wh-why?"

     "Lung cancer. That's, that's all I know. You gotta go see your dad, kid," Clark said, pity washing over him. He clapped him on the shoulder.

     The room was eerily quiet. "Fuck!" Finn yelled. "Shit." His voice dropped down to a whisper. "I-I-" He stopped talking and rushed out of the room. I heard glass shatter as he threw his beer on to the driveway.

     I immediately moved to follow him, Bishop close on my heels. I slammed through the front door. Finn was on his knees in the driveway, wringing his hands through his hair. I ran to his side, but before I reached him he was up and moving again, walking fast down the driveway and into the street.

     "Finn!" I called, hurrying after him.

     "Don't fucking follow me," he spat venom over his shoulder. Of course, I didn't listen.

     I jogged until I caught up with him, and I grabbed his arm to slow him down. "Finn, stop, I-" I stopped mid-sentence, as my eyes caught his. There were tears threatening to overflow in his eyes. Before this, I wasn't sure Finn could even cry. I had seen him show so few emotions in the months that I had known him.

     "I didn't even know she was sick," he said, before a sob racked his body. I pulled him down to me, and he laid his face in my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around him and held him close. Bishop caught up to us and clapped him on his shoulder.

     "It's not your fault, man. You had to get out of that house. You had to distance yourself," he said softly. He gave him a minute or two. "Let's go see your dad, man, we'll come with you."

     Finn snapped out of it like it was nothing. He stood up straight and released me, wiping his face off. "Uh, yeah, yeah let's go. You guys don't have to come though. You probably shouldn't. I don't know what he's gonna be like."

     I stepped forward again. "We're coming. No arguing."

     He hesitated a moment, looking between Bishop and me. Finally, he nodded and started walking down the street. I glanced at Bishop, and he dragged his fingertips up my arm, before following behind his best friend. I sighed shakily and started walking.

     Finn's house was around the corner. I don't want to call it decrepit, but it was pretty damn close. It was small, one floor, and it seemed to have been painted white at one point. Finn opened the door, and it almost fell off of its hinges.

     We stepped into the living room. It reaked of cigarettes and trash littered the floor. On a La-Z-Boy armchair with a cheap beer in his hand sat a man. He had graying, greasy hair, and wore a stained wife beater. He glanced over at us with glassy eyes.

     "Well, look what the damn cat dragged in," he said it slowly, lacking interest in any of us.

     I glanced over at Finn. Rage was growing inside of him. His fists were clenched, his jaw was tight, and his eyes were hard. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. The man that I assumed was his father finished his beer and threw it on the ground beside him, before cracking open another. Finn's eyes followed the beer can, taking in his father's every movement.

     "What happened to her?" Finn finally choked out. His chest heaved up and down.

     His father lazily looked in our direction again. He looked away again without saying anything. Back towards the television that wasn't playing anything. There were no lights on either.

     "What happened to my fucking mother?" Finn said slowly and almost calmly, though his voice shook. He was once again met with silence. "What did you do to her?" He roared, crossing the room to stand in front of his father.

     "What did I do? What did you do? You weren't here." His father held eye contact in a menacingingly detached way.

     Finn took an unsteady step back, like he was just punched. "What happened?"

     His dad got off of his chair and stood up. It was like a flip was switched in him. His dead eyes burned with anger. He was a big guy, even taller than Finn. "Cancer. Two packs a day catches up to us all, don't it?" He spat in his son's face. Finn closed his eyes and wiped it off of his cheek. "Spent three nights in the hospital before she croaked. Nobody there but me to see her dying breaths. Where were you, huh? In your fancy apartment? Forgot about your poor old mother dying in Queens, didn't ya?" Finn's entire body shook. He opened his eyes again and met his dad's. Finn opened his mouth to say something, but before he did, his dad shoved him as hard as he could. Caught off guard, Finn crashed hard into the wall. I gasped, bringing a hand up to cover my mouth.

     His dad looked over at us by the door, as if he had just noticed we were there. "Hm, brought your pretty little girl here to meet your dear old dad?" He looked at me like a piece of meat, and I shuddered under his gaze. I inched closer to Bishop, and he slid an arm around my waist protectively.

     His dad took a step closer to me, and I wanted to run, but I didn't let myself. We were here for Finn, and I needed to be brave for him. Besides, I didn't know the whole story, and I didn't think he would really hurt me. Where I'm from, parents don't act like this. I thought I could reason with him.

     I forced myself to take a couple of steps towards him. "I'm Vienna. I'm his friend, and I don't like the way you're talking to him. He just lost his mother, and I know you're mourning too, but I-" I couldn't finish my sentence, because halfway through, he smacked me across the face. Hard. I'm talking left an entire handprint hard.

     "Fucking bitch. Maggie, stop nagging me. I'm the man of this house, and you will respect me," he yelled. I didn't who Maggie was or why he hit me, but I could barely think. Tears flooded my eyes, and I fell back against Bishop in shock. Bishop wrapped his arms around my waist and whirled me around behind him. I basically cowered behind him, clutching my face and trying to swallow the tears. I held on to the back of his sweater, like that could save me.

     "Calm down, sir, she's not your wife. That's not Maggie," Bishop said, both of his hands up to keep distance between us and him.

     Finn got in between them, and he got up in his father's face. "Don't touch my friends," he said, in a voice that would have made any sane person run for the hills.

     "Get out of fucking my house, before I kill you all." And now, I believed he would. Finn let out a dark, humorless laugh and shook his head, before leaving the same way we came in. Bishop pushed me out of the door in front of him. We crashed out into the cool early afternoon air, and I felt like I could finally breathe again. We hurried out of the short driveway in silence. It was only when we were in the street that I even brought my hand up to feel my cheek. I hissed in pain, but held back tears with all of my might. It was some of the worst pain that I had ever felt in my life. I took a shuddering breath, and Bishop stopped walking and faced me. "Hey, are you okay?" He asked gently. He took my face in his hands and looked at me, his eyes wide and filled with concern.

     I nodded and tried to keep it together, but a couple of tears slipped out against my will. I chewed on my bottom lip. "Fuck," Bishop muttered angrily, before pulling me into his arms. I collapsed against his chest, squeezing him tight and silently crying. No one had ever hit me before, and I was still reeling from the blow and the immense pain that followed it.

     "I'm-I'm sorry," Finn said softly. I took my head off of Bishop's chest.

     "It's okay, Finn, really. It's not your fault, and I don't blame you," I said, and I meant it.

     He laughed bitterly. "Well, I fucking do." He walked fast ahead of us and around the corner, back towards Bishop's. This time we didn't try to catch up with him.

     Bishop pulled away from me just enough to look at my face. He bent down to my level and ran a hand through my hair. "Are you sure you're okay? Your cheek looks like shit. He hit you hard, Vi." My heart ached with how worried he was, but not as much as my face ached.

     "I mean it hurts like a bitch, but I'll be okay. I'm just shaken up. That was a little bit, well, terrifying," I said. I looked behind me, like I was afraid he might be following us. I tried to force a smile, but it didn't quite reach my eyes. I gingerly wiped my tears away, careful to avoid touching my already bruising cheek.

     He kept his arm around my shoulders, as we walked back to the house, and I was thankful for it. I needed him then, and all I wanted was him as close as possible to me. I knew these weren't exactly roommate thoughts, but I ignored that and kept walking. "Wine will help, and lots of it," Bishop said, as we went up his driveway. Finn was sitting on the steps with another beer.

     "You guys go on in," he said. He wouldn't make eye contact. I looked at Bishop, but he shrugged and opened the door for me. I took my coat off and draped it over Finn's lap, before heading inside.

     Bishop's mom was not happy when she saw my face. She yelled at Bishop to get me ice and aspirin, and she sat me down in the living room with a filled glass of wine. As Bishop held ice up to my cheek, she talked worriedly with Clark in the corner.

     "This has gone on for much too long. We've known about this for much too long. We could go to the police, we're heaping with evidence," Debbie said, making exaggerated motions with her hands.

     "Finn would never forgive us, and besides, it's up to Vienna. She's an adult," Clark answered back. They both glanced over at me.

     "I'm not pressing charges," I said. "That's Finn's dad, and from what I saw today, he's done a lot worse to Finn. I can't, for Finn's sake. He just lost one parent, I don't want him to lose another, no matter how terrible he is."

     Bishop rubbed my back soothingly. He dropped the ice from my face and smiled at me. "It still looks like shit. Can we eat now?" He asked.

     "Yes, yes, of course. Food will do her well," Debbie said, jumping to work. The family had already eaten, since they didn't know how long we would be, but most of them were still seated at the large table, and the food hadn't been put away yet. We took seats at the table, and Debbie handed us plates and silverware, while Clark got Finn. Finn sat next to me, but he ate silently and wouldn't catch my eye. Throughout the whole meal, he never once stopped shaking.