Part Three: Information Overload, Situation Lost Control

"You left your post?" Eli Moskowitz was furious. If Robby had stayed by the door, in his mind, the two boys never would have been caught.

Robby glared at the other boy. Even back in the days of the Valley's karate feud, Eli and Robby had never gotten along. "I had prior commitments that didn't involve committing a misdemeanor felony, thank you very much."

"Enough bickering." Lennon sighed, running her finger through her hair. "I remember the concert." She looked forlornly at Robby. "I think you kissed me during 'Paradise City'."

Robby closed his eyes, willing himself to remember the night before. One thing was for certain: when he got back to the fraternity, he was never drinking even half as much as what he did in Las Vegas, ever again.

If he focused hard enough, he could remember fragments of the night before. He remembered Miguel and Eli's crazy plan, and he remembered being asked to stand guard over the backstage door while they tried to free the ostrich. He didn't remember leaving, but he had a vague recollection of meeting Lennon Marks in the hotel lobby. She was wearing the same dress she was now.

Lennon remembered meeting Robby in the hotel lobby, and she remembered the chaos in the auditorium block as security guards and patrol officers prowled the main floor, the squawking and screaming from inside the theater where the circus was. She remembered Robby's warm hand in hers while they waited in line to be let into the arena for the concert, and she remembered being hefted onto his shoulders as the arena burst into the chorus of 'November Rain'.

"I think I know where my college money went." Eli said somberly, his mind flashing with images of roulette tables and gambling chips.

"Well, that's great, isn't it?" Vera encouraged. "What happened?"

"I was trying to gamble up enough money to pay Miguel's bail. He's in the county lockup after our stunt."

Seventeen and a Half Hours Earlier

Miguel.

Running was the only thing that Miguel could do. The large bird was loose on the casino floor, and over the tops of the patrons' heads, he could see the enraged bird ramming its beak into slot machines and startling waiters, who in turn dropped plates filled with glasses of expensive champagne.

Eli was nowhere to be found. Miguel cursed, realizing that he had been left to fend for himself, and that building security was hot on his heels. He vaguely heard sirens as he cut through the lobby and over to the elevator bank, and he spied three patrol officers lunging through the revolving doors at the front of the hotel.

And in that moment, Miguel Diaz knew that he was completely and utterly-

"Stop right there!" The security guard behind him shouted.

Miguel dove for cover, attempting to roll underneath a glass coffee table in reception, but only succeeded in knocking over the table, and crashing painfully to the marble-tiled floor.

He rolled over onto his back, staring up at the face of the officer standing above him. She was pretty, her curly hair pinned back into a bun on the top of her head. Her name tag read S. Fitzpatrick.

"You are under arrest on the misdemeanor charges of disturbing the peace, mischief and drunk and disorderly. You have the right to remain silent."

Her voice was pretty.

And that was the last thing he remembered before he passed out.

Sixteen Hours Later

"I am such an idiot." Miguel Diaz proclaimed, flopping back down onto the sad excuse for a jailhouse bed while Saffron laughed at him from the other side of the bars.

"No you're not." She paused, rethinking her word choice. "Okay, maybe a little bit. But do you know how hard I had to stop from laughing when The Beltoro called and said that somebody let an ostrich loose from the circus?"

Miguel cocked his eyebrows. "Now you're just making fun of me."

"Yeah, yeah I am. Why did you let the other guy talk you into it?"

Miguel shrugged. "When in Vegas, I guess."

"You mean when in Rome."

"My friend said something very similar yesterday."

"Hopefully not the one who got you arrested by the newest patrol cop in the entire casino district. I've only been here for four months, and this is the most action I've ever seen in the field. Especially when you passed out on me. Or maybe when you threw up on my partner in the car."

Sixteen Hours Earlier

Eli.

Eli managed to fly under the security team's radar by artfully cowering inside a bathroom stall. As far as the purple-haired boy was concerned, it was every man for himself now.

Once the commotion had cleared, Eli deemed it safe enough to leave the confines of the luxurious men's bathroom, and to venture into the much quieter hotel lobby. The Guns N Roses residency was now in full swing, and the auditorium hallway was empty.

Robby Keene and Miguel Diaz were nowhere to be found, the heavy chorus of 'Welcome To The Jungle' shaking the posters on the wall as Eli speed-walked to the bank of elevators, desperate to get back to his room.

He was barely in the door to the room he shared with Demetri when his cellphone rang, vibrating aggressively in his back pocket.

The caller ID read Las Vegas Police Department. Frantic and panicked, he attempted to press the red 'ignore call' button, accidentally swiping to answer.

"Uh, hello?" He said in a fake British accent, attempting to horrifically disguise his voice.

"Eli?" Miguel's voice came through patchy and echoey, like he was in a big room. He was slurring his words together, the tell-tale sign that someone has had too much to drink. "What's up with your voice, man?"

A phone rang in the background, and there were muffled voices behind him. It sounded very much like something straight out of Dick Wolf's Law and Order franchise; something that sounded like what he thought the bullpen of a police station was like.

Then it sank in. while Eli was cowering in the washroom, Miguel had been arrested for the ostrich stunt.

"I need you to bail me out. I don't have enough money on me, and apparently in the state of Nevada, you can't pay your own bail anyways."

Eli sucked in a breath. "How much do you need, man?"

When Miguel told him exactly how much, Eli wanted to yell. There was no way he could extract enough money from his college reserve fund without the bank getting suspicious.

"Listen, Miguel, hang tight." Eli said, filling the phone line with empty promises. "I'm going to come up with the dough, I promise."

"Be quick. The beds in this place are awful, and I think I need to lie down."

In the background, someone screamed for Miguel to hang up the phone. It sounded like a woman's voice, and Eli fought the urge to chuckle.

Eli Moskowitz had another plan, but much like his first plan, it was a really, really bad one.

Demetri.

There were still two hours until the doors of Las Vegas Comic Con opened to regular ticket holders, and Demetri Alexoplous was in his element. He'd already gotten into a lightsaber fight with Darth Vader, taken a selfie with a group of Hobbits, and vanquished imaginary Dementors with a group of college girls cosplaying as students from the four Hogwarts houses.

He was waiting near the middle of the line, attempting to check in with his fraternity brothers back at the casino, but with no luck. He knew Robby was likely at the concert, because he had been extra cautious when booking the resort that any extra fees for the concert had been paid, not wanting to miss the chance to catch Duff McKagan in person. Miguel and Eli, on the other hand, Demetri had no idea about. They could be anywhere, doing anything.

"Excuse me!" A small voice said from behind him, her voice tinged in a faint British accent. "You're dressed as Han Solo, right?"

Demetri turned around, smiling fondly at the girl behind him, who was dressed in a white dress with her hair coiled at the sides of her head in braided buns.

She was dressed as Princess Leia.

"I'm taking pictures with everybody who dressed like Han Solo today, and your costume is the best by far!"

"Sure." Demetri grinned, glad to be appreciated for all the effort he had put into making sure he looked as close to Harrison Ford's original character as possible. He stuck his hand out for an awkward shake. "Demetri Alexopolous, from California."

"Vera Garvey. From Southampton." Princess Leia grinned, shaking his hand.

Robby and Lennon.

Robby Keene and Lennon Marks felt like they were walking on air as they exited the auditorium following an energetic encore of 'Paradise City', 'Don't Cry' and 'Nightrain', drinks in one hand, and the other person's hand in the other.

"That was incredible." Lennon gushed "I mean, Axl's voice isn't what it was, but wow. Slash is even more incredible up close." Lennon had only ever been to one concert prior to the residency. A trio of punk bands from the early 2000s had played a Hard Rock cafe near her college campus, and she had treated herself to a night off.

Robby was grinning from ear to ear as he listened to Lennon talk, fascinated by the sound of her voice. "There truly is no sound quite like 80s hard rock."

"No, there is not." Lennon agreed, shaking her head as she dropped her empty plastic up in a nearby trash can, taking in the caution tape around the shattered glass table at reception, wondering what had happened. There was a van from animal control outside the front of the hotel, and Robby felt a tinge of panic behind his eyes as he remembered Miguel and Eli's mission to free the ostrich in the other auditorium.

What was done is done, and there was nothing that he could do about it now. But he could enjoy what was left of his first day in Sin City. Vegas was calling his name, and the bright lights outside the hotel doors were drawing him closer.

"Hey, Lennon." Robby asked hesitantly. "Do you want to explore the rest of the casino district with me? I mean, it's Las freaking Vegas?"

Lennon smiled, but her eyes smiled more, if that was even possible. As they got closer to the hotel doors, the lights from the street outside danced across the clear glass lenses of her glasses. "Ah, what the hell?" Lennon laughed. "Let's do it. As long as you buy me ice cream."

"That's the dealbreaker?" Robby asked jokingly. "Not my expert company?"

The Marks girl jokingly punched him in the shoulder. "Don't push your luck, Karate Boy. Since neither of us should probably drive right now, are you buying the cab fare, or am I paying for it, since you're such a gentleman?"