"Bring back, oh bring back, oh bring back my Billy to me, to me," I sing softly, and Benji rolls his eyes.

We're sitting in our hotel room, just waiting for Tony to bring Billy here. We've called the police, so if Tony does show his face, hopefully they'll catch him. Then again, if they don't catch him, and he's around, then I'm willing to bet he'll be pissed. Really pissed. is there anything we do that doesn't piss him off right now?

My cell phone rings, and I scramble for it. The caller ID says Billy, so I flip it open as fast as I can, fumbling a little in the process. "Billy?"

"No."

His voice. His voice. Cold and unfeeling. It makes me shivver. "Where's Billy? What have you done with him?"

I have to restrain myself from adding on something to the tune of "you bastard". I don't want to piss the guy off while he's still got one of my best friends in his evil, evil clutches. Benji is staring at me, obviously afraid at the idea of me talking to Tony. He chuckles, but not out of good humour. It sounds menacing and cruel. "Don't worry, Joel," he mutters, "Billy's fine. I just need the pair of you to do me a little favour. You're at the hotel, right?"

I nod, and then realize he can't see me... can he? "Yeah. What do you want?"

"Just come to the window where I can see you, and I'll let this whiny little kid go."

I bite back another snide remark. How dare he, of all people, make fun of our lil Billy? I grab Benji by the arm and pull him to the window, looking around. I can't see Tony, but apparently he can see us. "Alright, Billy's on his way. Think I'll keep his phone, though, in case I need to get hold of you."

My brother stares at me, wide-eyed. I'm sure he's pieced together bits and pieces of our conversation from my half. Even right now, with worry lines stretching across his face in a grim frown, he looks perfect. "And Joel?"

The wretched voice snaps me out of my daze. I can't help but snap. "What?"

"I suggest you stop looking at my boyfriend like that."

I flinch as I tear my eyes away from my brother and look out the window again. I can see Billy now, crossing the carpark towards the building. He looks up at our room and gives me a little salute, and I have to smile. He looks fine. At least the psychotic asshole's true to his word. "Now, I want you to call off the cops. And I want you or your brother to pass by that window at least once every ten minutes," he laughs, "and if you don't, there's always Paul. Or Sarah. Or your mom."

I just nod. He can see me now, after all. "Ciao, Joely."

He hangs up the phone, and I feel like I'm going to vomit. He just called me by Benji's pet name for me. Now, whenever Benji says it, it's going to remind me of him. I explain Tony'd half of the conversation to Benji quickly, and as soon as I'm done, there's a knock on the door. We both rush over to answer it, but Benji gets there first and flings it open. "Billers!"

We both hug him and apologize profusely for everything. This is all our fault, after all. It really has nothing to do with Billy. He's jittery, but otherwise okay. He keeps telling us not to worry about it, it's not our fault, blah blah blah, but we can't believe him.

I can't help wondering if Benji and I are really meant to be. I mean, if we were, wouldn't everything be easier?

I stand up and walk over to the window. I don't know how many times we've done this tonight, but it's getting old fast. Then I go back to the table and sit down again, propping my elbows up on the table and cupping my face in my hands. They're painting their nails black. Billy's like an expert at it, he buys all these special strips and things to get straight lines and grows his nails to what he calls "length-o perfect-o". I don't know how they can sit there and be so normal about everything. Benji blows on his nails to get them so dry faster, and I chuckle. He looks like such a girl.

He shoots me a dirty look. "You're just jealous 'cause your nails aren't pretty."

I smile at him and he smiles back, a slow, content smile, and it's all I can do to keep myself from drooling. How can this beautiful specimen want me after being with someone as beautiful as Tony Lovato? I mean, sure, Tony wasn't the nicest boyfriend ever, but he was fucking attractive at any rate. Not quite as attractive as Benji, but pretty close. "I wish I had my playstation," Billy whines, and I smirk.

"Yeah, then you could train me up on Madden like you did with Benji."

"Hey," Benji squeals, "that was all me. Had nothing to do with Billy."

Billy and I exchange a look, then snigger to ourselves. I lean back in my chair, linking my hands behind my head. My brother flicks on the TV. The Simpsons is on. "Benj, it's your turn to go to the window."

He grunts, dropping the remote, and does a lap past the window. The police have gone now, and he stops when he's in front of it. "Shit, Joel, I see him."

Billy and I rush to the window behind him, and sure enough, he's crossing the carpark from the same direction Billy came in earlier that day. He looks up into our window and I shudder as he offers us a smile. It's a real smile, the kind Tony used to give us when he hadn't seen us in ages. That somehow makes it even scarier. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his Dickies, and I realize that they're the same ones he'd been wearing the day he walked in on Benji and I making out. Same shirt, too. Billy states the obvious. "He's coming here."

Both of us turn to face the younger man and speak together. "No shit."

"Okay, it's kinda creepy when you guys do that."

Benji and I look at each other, and then back at Billy. "No shit."

He laughs, but it's quickly swallowed as he remembers what's happening. Tony is coming here. The man who broke my ribs, raped my brother and killed my dog is coming to my door. Benji reaches for my hand, and I try to shake him off, but he grips it tightly. "Benji, let go," I murmur, but he shakes his head.

"There are three of us and only one of him."

He's right, but I'm not entirely sure that Tony couldn't take all three of us. Especially if he gets in the kind of rage I've seen before. I reach out and grab Billy's hand as well, squeezing it gently, and we all turn to face the door, just waiting.

Minutes pass, and the knock never comes. Even worse, we hear the sound of a key slipping into the lock as a man's voice calls through the door, oozing sarcasm. "Housekeeping."