God dammit... that would've been the perfect title for an earlier chapter... like the one where Benji and Joel first had sex... so I'm using it for this one instead, because I've been listening to "Sing the Sorrow" and I really like that line.

Half an hour later, I'm milling around the living room when Tim Armstrong approaches me, an unmistakable smirk on his face. He's obviously laughing at something I did, but I don't know what yet. "I saw you, ya know."

I blink, oblivious. "Saw me? When?"

"In the car."

My blood runs cold and I stare in shock as my brother walks over. "What's up?"

Tim laughs. "I saw Joel with some guy in the back of his car," I let out a small sigh of relief, "and I was about to bug him into telling me who it is."

Benji licks his lips and looks me up and down, that cocky smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Joel! I'm ashamed of you," he teases, "can't you keep your mind out of the gutter for two minutes? And who was this mystery man, anyway?"

Now I'm going bright red as Jere, Seb, Jordan and John Feldmann approach to join in on the conversation. Tim chuckles. "I was hoping you knew, Benji."

Jordan pipes up, elbowing me in the ribs. "Knew what?"

"What lucky guy Joel is sleeping with," Benji answers, that smile that I love and hate still playing at his lips.

"It must be someone here," Tim points out, looking around the room, "it could be anyone."

"Except Benji," Jere jokes, and we all laugh, including myself. They're so clueless.

"C'mon, Joel," my brother whines, "tell us."

You'd better watch it, buddy, or I willtell them.

"I'm not sleeping with anyone," I mumble weakly. No one believes me.

"Oh, so you were in the back of your car, naked, humping the seat, which has developed some capability of moaning your name?"

"I got Billy to programme it," I joke, and all of their heads swivel to look at Billy. He looks up from his video game in surprise. "Hey, don't look at me, I wouldn't go there."

"Well, who would? I mean," Benji scratches his chin, pretending to ponder the question, "it's Joel. Who really wants Joel?"

Jordan grins and sticks his index finger in the air. "Give me a scooby snack, and I'll solve this mystery!"

I grab my crotch - not that that's unusual - and smirk. "Here's your scooby snack, asswipe."

Before I know it, I've got about four guys chasing me around the room, shouting like lunatics about how they'll show me a real scooby snack, and everyone is laughing - even Matt and Steve Lovato. I guess it's helping them somewhat, seeing that even in the face of disaster, life can still go on, and you can still have fun. Jere finally manages to tackle me, and he pins me to the floor, straddling my hips. I look over at Benji, who's desperately trying to hide the jealousy on his face, then back at Jere. ""Got you now, Madden! Who is it, huh?"

Benji finally becomes too uncomfortable with the position I've been put in, and walks over, dragging Jere off of me. "Come on, man," he whines, "leave the poor guy alone, he's exhausted from his... ahem... ride in the car."

Everyone in the room is laughing as I take Benji's hand and stand, blushing, and before I know what's happening, he's pulled me into his arms, my back against his chest. "Besides, it was me, I tell you! It was me all along!"

This only makes everyone laugh harder, and I look over my shoulder, making over-exaggerated kissy faces at my brother, whose eyes twinkle with the hilarity of the whole situation. This is our little joke, and the few people who do get it - meaning Paul and Billy - are laughing so hard that I actually think one of them may have a heart attack. I'm glad Paul can laugh at this. Then Benji puts on his "allergy voice". "That was nothing, though," he snorts, "Nick was in the kitchen with the peanut butter!"

Benji lets go of me - albeit reluctantly, but it was probably starting to look like we actually were screwing - and I fall to my knees with laughter. I'm not the only one, either, half-drunk people all over the room have completely lost it now. This is not your normal funeral party. Then again, I guess Tony was not your normal guy. I think in the end, this is how he would've wanted things to be - everyone remembering him by making jokes about gay sex and scooby snacks. At least, that's how the old Tony would've liked it. Except there's one thing missing.

"Benj," I whisper to my brother, "Pierre's passed out on the couch!"

Benji's eyes widen as he spots Pierre and realizes that I'm speaking the truth. "Matt! Matt, dude! Pierre's passed out!"

Within a couple of minutes, the pair have stripped Pierre of his clothes. And it's pretty cold in here. A few minutes later, he opens his groggy eyes to see Benji and Matt's faces staring down at him. "Wakey-wakey."

Pierre shoves them away grumpily, and they take a couple steps back. Then he looks down at himself. "Jesus christ!"

He runs off into the bathroom, and we all laugh again. Yeah. This is the way Tony would've wanted it, that's for sure. "Now," Benji turns to face the group, shouting over everybody, "who's drunk enough to drink out of the puke bucket?"

I write down a couple of chords as I hum the lyrics I've been thinking of to myself, holding my acoustic guitar against my stomach with my other hand so it doesn't fall out of my lap. "I'd give up everything," I sing softly, almost under my breath, "if it would stop you hurting, give up everything and fight, to keep you here... alive."

I lift my head as there's a knock on my bedroom door. My lips curl into a smile as Benji pokes his head in, having showered and stuck his rings back into his lips. "You don't have to knock, y'know."

He shrugs and comes over to sit next to me on my bed, and I put my guitar to one side so I don't jab him with it. "Yeah, but I heard you writing, and you usually don't do it without me," he looks thoughtful, but not hurt, "so I guess I thought it was private."

I shake my head. "No, I just promised Teesha I'd write a song about her. No offense, it's just... my thing."

He nods and slips his arm around my waist, pulling me closer, and I rest my head on his shoulder. "It's cool. I understand," he presses a kiss to my temple, "besides, I've been writing without you, too."

I laugh softly. "It's not another song about Cash, is it?"

He grins. "No, but that's a good idea."

I nuzzle my face into his shoulder. "What's it about, then?"

He reaches out, placing his hand gently under my chin, and tilts it upwards so I'm looking into his eyes. "It's about being saved," he murmurs, his warm breath teasing my lips, "being saved by the one person in the world who really, truly understands."

My whole body turns to jelly and I melt into his arms, somehow managing to press my lips against his. He kisses me back softly, lovingly, and as his tongue slips into my mouth, I imagine that we trade hearts, and I can feel his strong, wild, untamed one beating in my chest, a permanent fixture, because this love we have is forever.