"I can feel the pressure
It's getting closer now
We're better off without you." -Pressure

The sound of autumn leaves crunching away below my combat boots, mixed in with the smell of cigarettes in the air signalled my approach towards my neighborhood. My hands were clenched into fists inside my pockets and I forced myself not to shiver from the chilly september climate.

As I passed through the development, there were some people outside, either smoking or doing God knows what. Their stares were making me feel claustrophobic as I felt their eyes on me. There was only another turn around the block before I would reach the dead end and turn left onto my driveway.

After eating at Tilted Reality's mansion, I insisted that Blake didn't drive me home, preferring to walk instead. It took a lot of convincing, but I rather he didn't follow me to my humble abode just yet. It was just too risky. Fortunately, I managed to escape but not empty-handed. They gave me their numbers just in case and said next that time I came to visit, I should bring the rest of my band with me.

With a sigh that caused the air in front of my mouth to billow around from the cold, I turned the corner of Gary Lane and viewed my apartment up ahead. The hinges were well worn out and cracked, occasionally letting out creaks in the breeze. Yellowed and tarnished, the once pearly white walls decorated with christmas ornaments from nearly five years ago welcomed me; as did the ripped up sofa sitting comfortably on the front lawn. Only a few feet away from the front door, I peered through the glass of the cracked windows and noticed Marco sitting in the loveseat, and it seemed like he was staring at the television which wasn't even turned on.

Unsure whether or not he was asleep, I reached under the doormat and took out the spare key, unlocking the door as quietly as I could and walking in without a sign. I had gotten quite good at sneaking in silently; so good that I would put ninjas to shame. Holding my breath, I stepped around the broken bottles that I hadn't had time to clean up yet and cautiously made my way over to my step-father.

He was situated upright in his chair, his head lolling to one side in a seemingly uncomfortable manner. In his left hand was a beer bottle and the other possesed the TV remote. Was he just staring at the blackened screen for no reason?

"Marco?" I whispered, closing the distance between us and peering over his shoulder to scan his face. His eyes were closed, mouth open as I realized the sound of quiet snores exiting them. I exhaled lightly and snatched the bottle out of his hands before placing it on the coffee table in front of the television. My hands groping around the floor, I winced as I felt glass slice my palm, but continued searching anyway.

Finally retrieving the blanket, I waved it around before settling it onto Marco's sleeping form, offering a small sigh when I heard him murmur dreamily, "Amelia?"

I leaned back, settling myself against the frame of the couch beside Marco's sleeping form, cocking my head to one side and examining him. When Marco was asleep, the anger and hurt seemed to fade away, and his innocence shown. He was just heartbroken; he was just tired of it all. There were no creases or wrinkles on his face, and he even adorned a small smile as he dreamt. Sometimes I would wonder what he dreamed about, though I knew it would be thoughts of my mother. I dreamed about her too; although my dreams usually turned into nightmares.

Reaching over, I adjusted the blanket just under his chin, half-smiling. He looked younger... nicer. Like the old Marco that I used to know. He'll come back one day, I just knew it. But when he does, I wouldn't be there.

If I reminded him of my mother, it would be better if I was gone. He could get better; I could get better. I wouldn't have to have to seem him behind bars, I would see him smiling and reaching his arms out to me for a warm embrace. I wouldn't have to put up with the pain anymore. We could both start over. We can both be saved.

Marco let out a little huff as he turned his head to the other side, facing away from me. In my back pocket, my cell phone vibrated twice and I pulled it out, pressing the receiver to my ear. "Hello?"

"Lacey, it's Mike. What have you found out?" His deep rumble echoed through the silence of my house, making my jaw clench at the authority dripping from his tone. I didn't reply, merely gazing at Marco's sleeping form.

I've got a proposition for you.

It could save you from your father.

"Lacey, you still there?"

Closing my eyes, I croaked out, "I'm still here."

"Meet me at the McDonalds down by 24th street. I want to know everything."

"Sure." The line went dead. Slowly retracting my hand and gripping my cellphone tightly, I stood up, giving Marco one last look. "We can both be saved."

I headed for the front door.

--

"Unbelievable." Mike whispered, astonished. He leaned back in his chair with an expression of awe, his coffee sloshing around in protest. "So Tom's basically their father."

"Not biologically, but he's their legal guardian." I murmured, not having touched my own drink. "He basically adopted them all."

"Do you know when?"

"When they told me their stories, they all said they were picked up at different ages, but all of them were pretty young." My voice was clipped, official. I just wanted to get this over with before the guilt ate me apart.

"Now why would he go around adopting?" Mike asked rhetorically, rubbing the stubble showing around his chin.

"Hey, the guy's an executive; a world-known producer who travels the world looking for the next new talent to sign. He's probably lonely." I replied anyway, finally taking a small sip of the coffee Mike had bought for me. Instantly making a face, I brought the styrofoam cup down onto the table.

"What? Too strong?" Mike frowned.

"Too sweet." I shot him a look, wiping my mouth with my arm in disgust.

"I barely put anything in there!"

"I like it black. Nothing added."

"Jesus." Mike gave me an incredulous look before shaking his head. The two of us remained quiet before Mike suddenly sat up straighter in his seat, nearly making me jump in surprise. "Damn it, there has to be a reason why he chose them specifically. It just doesn't make sense."

"The guy's lonely~" I sang tauntingly, switching my gaze to drift out the window. The sun was beginning to make its descent as people walked up and down the sidewalks to their destinations. Buildings in the distance were beginning to lock up for the day, and though I couldn't hear anything past the pop music blasting in the fast food restaurant I was in, I could imagine the sounds of shoes hitting the pavement in frantics flurries of movement.

"But why the hell would he make his kids into a rock band...? Come on, Lacey. Think. What else did they say?"

"Look, Mike. I'm tired, and I just want to go home-"

"Home? Why, when all you do is get tossed around like some rag doll there?" Mike shot back, the vein in his forehead popping out from the strain. I inwardly flinched but kept the stoic gaze in my expression.

"Oh, shut the hell up."

"Mind explaining how you got that cut then?" He jutted his chin out towards my hand where the glass had sliced through skin. It had long since stopped bleeding but the thin streak was still visible. Not even attempting to retort that Marco had nothing to do with the wound, I wrinkled my nose stubbornly.

"I don't know anything else." I hissed out through gritted teeth, feeling my hands start to shake from his comment. Calm down, Lace, I thought to myself. Calm down. This arrogant jackass is crucial for your plan. "All I know is that they were all adopted by the same man, and that they all started playing their instruments at really fucking young ages."

Mike settled his gaze on my, trying to make me squirm under his trance-like hold but I kept still, glaring back knives and daggers.

"By the way, that phone of yours is really fancy; the latest model. Where did you manage to scrape up money for that when you could barely pay your own bills?" Mike continued taunting me, wanting me to snap. I knew what he was getting at. He knew I was short-tempered, and the only way to get information out of me was if I go down screaming and yelling.

"It. Was. A. Gift."

"From who?"

"...Blake."

Mike blinked, actually looking genuinely surprised. "My, my. You two have already gotten that close?" I creased my lips into a fine line, not meeting his gaze. "In all honesty, I thought you would've gone for Zeke. He seems more like your type."

"Are you sure you're not gay? Look, just stay out of my business. I'm doing what you want, okay?" I spat, slamming my hands on the table. I watched as he frowned, giving me a sharp look.

"Call me when you get more information." Mike said, reaching into his pocket and taking out a $20 bill. Slapping the money onto the table, he gave me a curt nod accompanied by another glare before turning around to leave.

He just dismissed me. As if I were in fucking kindergarten. Letting out an agitated growl, I waited until I saw his car drive out of sight before I got up to leave as well.

"More information, my ass." I grumbled as I slammed the door open, the bells above the frame jingling as I made my exit. There was another vibration in my pocket and as I took out my cell phone, I caught a glimpse of the text message.

Don't forget our dea-

"I won't forget our fucking deal!" I yelled, kicking at the lamp post I stood beside angrily. I think I assaulted the poor thing for a few minutes. Breathing heavily, I turned around slowly only to find two pairs of eyes staring back at me- one pair was horrified, while the other fixed a glare. I gave a mini-salute to the mother and daughter, feeling a bit sheepish.

The mother kept her hands covering her child's ears, hissing venomously in my direction, "Watch your language!" before scurrying away into the night.

I gave the lamp post one last kick before shoving my hands in my pockets and returning home for the second time that day.

---

I hope this gives you all more clarification on how Lacey truly feels about Marco, and why she wants to "escape." Also, thought on Mike and Tom anyone? How do you feel about our two main antagonists? One last thing, I posted a weekly playlist so check that out too. :) It's called "coffee shop soundtrack."

Comment, vote. promote.

xx Isabelle