"Caring for but never trying to own may be a further way to define friendship." ~ William Glasser.

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"Fourteen bottles of milk on the wall, take one down, pass it around thirteen bottles of milk on the wall!" I sang.

I've been doing that for half an hour and I've started from one hundred bottles of milk. I have an excuse for my stupidness. I ate a lot of chocolate (Paul gave it to me) and my phone battery was low.

Brad was annoyed out of his mind and lucky for him, the bus stopped and we reached The Grey hound bus stop in Las Vegas.

We hopped out of the bus with just twenty dollars left.

"How much time would it take by walk?" I asked.

"Five days." He sighed.

We walked on the streets in silence, taking in the amazing view of the building towering over us.

Unlike Colorado, this place was filled with people. The sky was dark but the city lights said otherwise.

There was a casino ahead of us, a mall to the right and a club to the left. The peacefulness of Colorado was nowhere to be found here. All I could hear were the cars and people.

"Brad, so you know where you're going?"

"Yeah, unlike you, I've studied the map carefully before travelling."

"I didn't see the map because I knew you would."

"Sure." He said, sarcastically.

We were walking at a pace so fast, my stomach started hurting.

Jogging is very different from walking, okay?

"Brad, slow down. Your leg would fall off." I said, in between breaths.

He suddenly winced, as if remembering the pain.

"I forgot. I was too caught up in something and I tend to walk fast when I'm stressed." He said, slowing down.

"Is there any quite place in this area?" I asked, looking around.

It's 9:30 here and people are still awake.

"The park?" He said – more like asked.

"Find a peaceful park here and I'll make a pig fly."

He stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath with his eyes closed.

"My head is so clouded. Too many thoughts." He started pressing his hands to his temples, as if trying to hold the thoughts back in his head.

I looked around for an isolated place but all I could see were buildings.

"Follow me." I said and led him to a hotel building.

We went inside the hotel and found it busy. As usual.

I went inside the lift without turning to see if Brad was coming along.

Once we were in the lift, I pressed the highest floor – the terrace.

We waited in the lift for five seconds before the door opened, letting us out into the gigantic terrace.

Perfect.

Nobody was here – except a couple sitting on the edge.

I went to the other edge and leaned on the bar, taking in the view.

Brad did the same, standing to my right.

We were just breathing for five minutes in comfortable silence. From up here, you could hear faint noises of the cars and trucks, but it wasn't disturbing.

"So?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"So?" He mirrored.

"Say something. Clear out those thoughts." I said, glancing at him and going back to the view of the city.

"Mom. I tried to save her but he shot me. And I couldn't run anymore." He said, as if that explained everything.

I remained silent, so he could continue.

"I was lazing in my couch, watching Tom an Jerry and eating popcorn when my door suddenly broke down."

Déjavù much?

"This really – tall, scary guy came in with a gun pressed to my mom's head." He squeezed his eyes shut, pushing the tiny tear daring to roll out.

I rubbed his clenched fist which was about to break the bar he was holding.

"Breathe." I said.

He did so and that made him give in to the tears.

"You'll look even more disgusting if you cry. Here." I said, handing him a napkin.

He hastily wiped his eyes with his hands – rejecting my napkin (not that I'm complaining).

He took another deep breath before he continued.

"He then found out that it my room and not my dad's so he ran down the stairs – with my mom."

"I tried running after him but he sprayed some gas and shot my leg before taking off in a van."

Maybe the spray temporarily erased and altered his memory.

"And I couldn't even save her. At least if had thrown a bat at him or something." His face told me that he was pissed off at himself.

"Calm down, Brad. We're going to save them." I cooed, rubbing his back.

"Not them. Her." He said and the waterworks started off again.

"Why are you crying? Be happy they didn't get your dad." I said.

"They –" He started but stopped, unable to continue his sentence.

Damnit. I just had to ask about his dad.

I pulled him away from the bar and wrapped him in a tight hug, rubbing his back and gently patting it.

"I – we won't rest until we kill them." I said, patting his back.

"I don't even think we can make it there in time." He said.

"Four more days. We still have twenty dollars. Don't worry, we can get a taxi ride worth one hour and seventy miles." I said.

"No, we'll keep that ten for food. I don't want you to die trying to save my mom." He said, pulling away from the hug and wiping his eyes.

"We'll see." I said, glancing at my wet back.

Well, I'll just have to save that question about his dad for later.

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I know, I know. This is such an emo chapter. But eh, gotta show some bromance, right?

And what happened to Brad's dad???

Dunn Dunn dunnnnnnn.

Chad: It's not funny, Skittolate. Seriously, stop playing with him.

Me: OI, I'm not doing anything!

Chad: I found out.

Me: ...

Just3 more words.