a/n: Sydney is in italics. Tony is bold!

Wilson James Taylor

"—Mrs.Gonzalez," I tried calming her down, "I promise you, we'll fix this, free of charge."

She cursed at me in Spanish, talking a mile a minute.

"You hear me, Wilson?" she yelled in my ear as we walked through her backyard.

"I. Don't. Know. What. You're. Saying," I emphasized.

My mom speaks Spanish, not me.

I had to laugh in the heat.

"I'm sorry, Will, I didn't know," Manny tried to say.

Mrs.Gonzalez gave him a cold stare for damaging her favorite bushes.

I left the guys alone to run some errands and it's like everything went to shit.

Apparently, Mrs.Gonzalez had a line a bushes planted. There were four, to be exact, and though they were grown out, they represented a close family member she'd lost. I guess Manny thought he was doing her a favor, getting rid of them, and I can see how he thought it, but she had a conniption.

"I was just trying to make the yard look nice, I thought that's what I'm supposed to do?" He explained himself.

Mrs.Gonzalez, a long time client, began mumbling under her breath.

"It's okay," her grumpy husband of forty years told us, "I was tired of looking at those shrubs. Her and her spiritual shit."

Manny looked relieved. "I did everything else like you told me," he assured Mr.Gonzalez.

My phone rang. It was Sydney.

"Hey, Syd, I can't talk right now," I sighed.

"Then why'd you answer? Anyway, can you please bring me some ice cream when you get off? Vanilla."

"You couldn't have texted that?"

"You reply late. Please, Will!"

"Alright, Sydney," I said, ending the call.

"Are we good here?" I asked the man of the house.

"I'll take care of Maria. Same time next week?" The husband shook my hand.

"I'm sorry," I apologized again on the rookie's behalf.

Manny followed me to my truck and got in the passenger seat.

"You're gonna give me the silent treatment, man? I made a mistake," he talked.

I inhaled deeply before saying anything.

"I didn't bring you in just because Karina likes you, I thought you knew what you were doing."

"I do," he laughed. "For real, I do. It was a mistake," he said through his accent.

When my phone rang again, I was so annoyed I couldn't threw it out the window. And I would've if it wasn't Damian calling.

"What, man?"

"You're not gonna wanna hear this," he let out.

"What— what is it?" I clenched my jaw.

"You know that part we ordered for Rob Bennington's Tesla Roadster? Yeah, it won't be here til after the weekend and he's here now. Pissed."

You know how in cartoons when they get mad they fill up with red and steam comes out their ears and head? Me, right now.

This has got to be the worst Friday ever, I thought in my head, banging it on the steering wheel.

After a disaster of a work day, I went straight home.

I just needed peace.

DING! DONG!

Ten minutes. I was lying on the couch for ten minutes before the doorbell rang.

"I'm going to cry," I groaned in the pillow.

I didn't even look through the window to see who was there, I just opened the door.

It was Sydney and she had a bag in her hand.

"Oh so you are home, just ignoring me? Got it," she sassed, walking past my body.

"I just got here," I said through a yawn.

"Thanks for the ice cream, by the way."

"Syd, I had a long day," I let her know.

She looked up at me. "So did I, but you don't see me being a dick about it. First I went to the nail salon and-"

"I don't care," I spit out, "I really don't give a fuck."

"Stop being mean, Will. You're not the only person stressed right now," she scolded.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sydney. What's stressing you: which color lingerie to wear in your next fucking photoshoot?"

She blinked and then threw the bag down she brought with her.

After a long breath, she said, "Subject change."

I turned the tv on and looked past her body blocking the view.

"I have the perfect costumes for tonight!" She exclaimed.

I looked at her grinning and then returned to the television.

"Costumes for what?"

She smacked her lips. "For the Halloween party tonight?"

"Yeah, I'm not going."

"Will! You have to, our costumes are so cute, and-"

I tuned her out, opening Netflix.

"Halloween is for people Hunter's age, take him."

"Oh my gosh," she screamed, "your maturity is so annoying sometimes! Can't you just enjoy a night out? We get to play dress up, it'll be so fun."

"No."

"You haven't even seen the costumes, yet. Look!" She bubbled, digging in the bag.

Sydney smiled big as she showed me two white basketball jerseys.

"Did you shrink that one?" I asked at the small uniform.

She laughed. "No, silly, it's for me. Get it, we're Bugs Bunny and Lola? Space Jam!"

I got the reference, just didn't care.

"Fine," she huffed at me not giving a reaction. "I'll go and I'm going to wear this, and you better not have anything to say about it. Don't raise that eyebrow, either."

I did, anyway. "Why don't you dress up as a ghost? Yeah, a ghost is good, put a sheet over your head and there you go."

She threw the bunny ears at me and pouted. "Why can't you just do this one thing your girlfriend asks of you and come support an event I put together?"

"Hard pass," I swallowed.

"So you're not coming?" She asked, folded arms.

I dropped my shoulders. "No, Sydney."

"And you're just going to let me go, wearing this?" She taunted, waving the shorts and top in my face.

I nodded. "Clearly you want the attention."

She picked up her bag and walked away.

"Syd!" I yelled after her.

"Leave me alone," she snapped, slamming the door.

Great. All I wanted was to come home and relax, now I definitely have to go to the goddamn party. . .

***

So I went to Sydney's and used my key to get in. I thought it'd only be right to put on the Bugs Bunny costume she picked out, it's Halloween after all. And if people were gonna see her as Lola, at least this way they'll know we're together. I'm hoping that keeps the guys away from her.

The shorts were white like the jersey that said "tune squad" and I threw on the bunny-feet slippers, but I had to laugh at them. Sydney's really funny for picking them out, but it's all in the details, I guess.

Before I left her bedroom, I saw her iPad on the floor. I shook my head knowing she probably meant to throw it on the bed and was just in a rush.

I picked it up and because it had no lock, it just opened with my fingers on the screen.

Her messages were displayed on the screen from an unsaved number. I almost didn't look at them until the words "I miss you" caught my eye.

So I began reading the thread:

I can't do this Tony

Kitten you love throwing parties

No I mean with you. Leave me alone

I miss you angel

I'm throwing the party and that's it. And I'm inviting my boyfriend

Please do I'd love to finally see him but it'll be the last time you will

Is that a threat Tony? Why don't I show this to the cops?

You accepted money from me, angel. And it wasn't a threat, its a promise. See you tonight, bring the boyfriend so we can talk man to man

The iPad died before I could scroll and read the rest.

Tony wanted to see me, but I was going to make him regret it.

***

I arrived at the party after ten at night. To say it was packed would be an understatement.

Was that Paris Hilton? Focus, Will. . .

I shook my head and walked inside, taking it all in. Another successful event under Sydney's belt. I'd be proud if I didn't come here to take care of business.

First things first: where the fuck is Tony Becker?

As I scoped the area, I ran into Chyna.

"What are you supposed to be?" I asked her.

She sucked her teeth. "I'm in a sorority but we all died."

"Yeah, no, I totally get that," I lied through my teeth. She just looked like she went to private school.

"Where's D?" I asked her, shouting over the music.

"I'm not worried about him. Have you seen Tony?"

"Who?" I played dumb.

Her mouth tightened, looking like she knew she fucked up.

"Oh. Um, Tony Becker, the birthday boy? Not that'd you'd know him or anything. The millionaire? I'm trying to get with him." Of course she is.

"No, I haven't seen him," I let her know.

She flipped the one pigtail over her shoulder and winced, awkwardly. "Well maybe it's best you don't see him. Damian might be by the pool, try there."

With that, she walked away.

When I stepped outside, I immediately noticed Damian by the pool entertaining Manny, Karina, Miranda, and Jacob. No surprise there, everyone was in matching couples costumes.

"Eh, what's up, doc?" Damian greeted me, slapping my hand.

"Aw, I get it, you're Bugs!" Karina gushed.

"Kinda looks dumb without Sydney, though," Miranda added.

I cut my eyes from her and asked Damian who he's supposed to be.

"I'm in a frat, and we killed Chyna's sorority," he explained.

"Stupid," I commented, shaking my head. "Where's Sydney?"

"Ummm," Karina and Miranda tried to play dumb. Girl code, I get it.

"I'd tell you if I knew," Damian told me. "She gotta be hopping around here somewhere."

"Thanks," I griped, excusing myself from the group.

"Want a drink?" The bartender called out to me. "It's to die for."

I looked around. "Why not?"

As she prepared it, I checked my phone to see if Syd had replied to my calls or texts. Nope.

"Of course not," I said under my breath, putting my phone back in my pocket.

"Here you go, doc," she said, referencing Bug's catch phrase.

"Have you seen the girl version of me?" I asked her.

"Lola?"

"Bingo."

She pointed to the balcony where I saw Sydney standing alone, having a drink.

I downed the shots and made my way back inside to get upstairs.

"Bunny?" Anna shrieked at the top of the stairs, stumbling out of a bathroom.

She looked awful, dressed as a "sexy" nun.

"Fitting," I commented on her outfit.

I peeked in there to see what she was doing after catching the string tied around her arm. This was beyond weed or a line of cocaine here and there. She's a piece of shit person but this has gone too far.

I went to grab her arm and help her up after she fell but she threw up and, luckily, I had jumped out of the way just in time.

"Fucking Hell, Donny, take care of this bitch for me," someone snarled out of no where.

"Yes, sir. What should I do with her?" This Donny person asked.

"Get rid of her, dumb broad doesn't even know her own name right now! She can't be here, fucking up my party. Someone sees her like that, it falls back on me."

"Yes, sir," Donny obliged, dragging Anna's body down the stairs like she wasn't somebody's daughter.

"Can I help you?" A man asked, seeing I didn't know which way to go as I stood in the dark corridor.

Judging by the way I got chills, I knew it had to be him.

"Tony," I hissed, turning slowly to see him.

He was dressed as a devil. Again, fitting.

"And you are?"

"Just looking around," I made up.

So he didn't know who I was, or what I looked like, I thought in my head. I remembered that from his texts with Sydney. I can use this to my advantage.
Either way, I wasn't about to make my identity known.

"Who are you supposed to be, Larry Bird?" he joked.

Yeah, let's go with that.

"I was going for Michael Jordan, you couldn't tell?"

Tony was bigger than me, not taller. I didn't think there were muscles or a six pac under his red suit. He seemed to have let himself go. I take it that's due to all the drugs and alcohol.
He was a failed actor, practically a bum now, fighting to be relevant again.

"You're funny, I like it. Hey, want a bump?" He offered, alresdy high.

There was no way I was doing that shit but I followed him down the hall anyway since he let me.

"This your place?" I questioned.

"No, guy. My girl just rented this for me for the party."

Tony sat us in a loft-like game room area on the third floor.

He fixed himself a glass to drink and one for myself.

I stirred the ice in the glass and waited until he drank his first to do the same. It went down smooth, tasted fine.

Well at least he's not trying to poison me, I thought, relaxing.

"Your girl?"

He beamed bright, using a credit card to separate the dust into lines.

"I call her Angel," he said, "she's my Heaven on Earth. Well... was."

"What happened?" I asked, shaking my head when he offered me the first hit.

Tony's craned his neck from the table and rubbed his arm against his nose.

"She don't love me."

"Did she ever?" I swallowed.

He cackled. "She can't fucking stand me, but she's mine."

"Where is she now?"

"Some fucking Tiktokers were hitting on her and she told me off. Me. Pfft, when I tried correcting her, I had to remember there were eyes everywhere. With this role coming up, I can't afford any slip-ups. I need this check." He said before doing another line.

If I didn't know any better I'd mistake him for Tony Montana.

I poured him another drink. Seems as if he had loose lips under the influence and I was curious. That, and I hoped he'd pass out.

My blood boiled for more reason than one. First, all the attention Sydney was getting, then the fact that he tried "correcting her."
Apparently, though, she can handle herself so I made a mental note to deal with that later.

"Why-" when I tried asking another question, Tony stood and cut me off. He walked over to the balcony and peered out at the party.

I joined him there and looked along the side of the mansion at the other balconies to see if Sydney was still there. She wasn't.

"Enough of the bullshit, my guy. What did you say your name was again?" He asked, hand on my shoulder.

"Omar," I told him.

He went "ah," and then finished his third drink, and that's just since being with me.

"That's what I'm talking about," he groaned, watching Chyna dance by the pool.

"Donny!" He yelled for the assistant again.

"Yes, Tony?" He spoke quick.

"Is the other girl taken care of - Star?" asked Tony, snapping his fingers to remember her name.

"Yes, sir, in the back alley," he revealed.

"Good. See the black chick in the schoolgirl uniform? Bring her up here, I want to play," he devised with a sinister chuckle.

"That's Chyna, sir," Donny jogged his memory.

"Sydney's friend? Eh, I cracked the other three, what's one more?" He made himself laugh.

"Omar, it was nice talking to you, but I have a situation to take care of," he cracked up, fixing another two drinks.

I watched him pour something in the clear drink. He mixed it and then winked at me.

"You know how it is," he said, showing me out.

I walked down the stairs slowly, wondering if what just happened was at all real.

How could I have just sat down with Tony Becker, my girlfriend's abuser, and witness him not only get rid of Anna, but spike a drink for Chyna? And how sick of his "assistant" to just go along with it.
I had something for the both of them, but first, I had to warn Chyna.

To be continued. . .