I fumble for the phone, groaning as I roll over in my warm, cozy bed and check the time on my alarm clock. Who would be calling at four in the morning? Whoever it is, they're about to get their ear chewed off. My hand finally finds the smooth plastic of the reciever, and I lift it to my ear, grunting a greeting rather than forming actual words. I don't make any effort whatsoever to conceal my annoyance. "I did it, Billy!"

I can tell that voice belongs to a Madden twin, but I'm too tired to even think about determining which one it is, so I naturally assume it's my boyfriend. That is the logical conclusion to come to, after all. "Benj, what the hell? It's like four AM, and you were the one who decided to stay at home tonight so I could get some sleep."

The aggravation is clear in the voice on the other end. "This isn't Benji. I got rid of him."

Why does Joel have to get all cryptic when I'm too sleepy to think about anything? "Uh huh. That's cool. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"No!" I'm alarmed at how forceful his voice is, "Don't you get it? We've gotta get out of here. Like, now. I'm coming to pick you up."

I rest my head in my free hand, shaking it slowly to clear the fog of confusion hanging over it. Then I use the same hand to drag myself into a sitting position. "Joel, are you drunk?"

He lets out an exasperated sigh. Obviously, I'm supposed to be picking up on something that I'm not. He has to be drunk. I hope no one's spotted him, because Good Charlotte's supposed to have taken on a "Straight Edge" image. How come Benji's the alcoholic, and Joel's the one who can't stop partying? "Just be ready to leave in fifteen minutes, Billy."

Click. Dial tone. I shake my head a little before shuffling back down until the covers have enveloped my shivvering body again. If Joel's drunk - which he almost undoubtedly is, it would seem - he'll soon forget about coming to drag me along on whatever strange adventure he has planned. Benji is not going to be happy when he hears about this. But right now, I need sleep. Beautiful, beautiful sleep...

"Billy, what the fuck?"

I cry out as the light flickers on, and fling my arm over my eyes to shut it out. My ears pick up the sounds of him shuffling about in my room. "I told you to be ready."

I sit up, removing my arm to force my eyes to adjust. Joel's pulled my overnight bag out of the closet, and he's stuffing some of my clothes into it frantically. "And I told you I wanted to sleep," I mutter.

He turns to me, rolling his eyes and tossing his hands in the air in frustration. "We've got much bigger problems to deal with right now, sweetheart."

'Sweetheart'? Did Joel-so-ghetto-Madden just call me 'sweetheart'? He has to be high on something. Something strong. When his eyes bore into mine, though, they're sharp and focused. His facial expression is kinda making me nervous, so I laugh it off. "Okay, sweetheart," I giggle, "let's say I decide to go with you - where are we going? And is Benji coming?"

He narrows his eyes and turns away from me to zip up my bag.When he finally speaks, his voice is dark and cold. Almost chilling. "I told you already. I got rid of Benji," he pauses as he slings my bag over his shoulder, "and I don't know where we're going. Mexico, I guess. That's where they go in the movies."

He takes a few quick strides over and grabs me by the arm, gently tugging me away from the comfort of my bed. I stumble as I find my footing. "Hold on, what? You got rid of Benji?" I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, "Did you guys have a fight or something?"

He grabs a shirt and a pair of pants from my drawer and hands them too me, and I pull the shirt over my head. I've known - and lived in very close quarters with - Joel too long to be shy about him seeing me in my boxers. "Stop playing, Billy," he laughs, "you know what I'm talking about."

I hop around on one foot, tugging on my pants, and as soon as they're up and fastened, he grabs me by the arm again and starts dragging me out of my bedroom, down the stairs, through the living room and to the front door. I whine along the way. "Joel, I really have no idea. You're not serious about going to Mexico, right?"

He stops at the front door and stares at me, the strangest expression on his face. I've seen it before, but I just can't quite put my finger on when. "If that's what it takes. We can't let them catch us."

I lift my hands to my eyes, rubbing out what Benji calls my "eye boogers", and trying to clear my head at the same time. "Can't let who catch us?"

He rolls his eyes again, slapping himself on the forehead, and it occurs to me that it would be comic if I wasn't so damn worried about what kind of mind altering drugs Joel's been doing tonight. I search his eyes for some kind of answer, but he just opens the door and ushers me out of it, closing it behind him before he speaks. "The police, Billy," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "look, I did it. I did it for you. Like we planned, remember?"

He tugs me towards his car and unlocks the passenger door for me, the opens it and waits for me to get in. I slide into the seat, bewildered, but enjoying the amusement of Joel's high nonetheless. I'm not sure I should be letting him drive, but he seems co-ordinated enough. He gets in the driver's seat and shoves my bag behind my seat, and turns the key in the ignition. It's going to be hilarious when he comes down from this. "No, I don't, actually. Care to refresh my memory?"

He flashes me a rare smile as he backs out of my driveway, then reaches over to squeeze my hand. Man, he's weird tonight. "We called it 'Joel and Billy's Evil Master Plan', remember?"

I freeze as I realize what he's talking about. A stupid conversation we had while we were on the road a couple of months ago that had become a running joke between Joel and I. But that's all it was. A joke.

"Pleaaaase," I whine, "you know you want to, Joel!"

He sighs and stands up to get me a coffee. Constant complaining will get you everywhere. "Alright," he grunts, "but only 'cause I love you."

Benji plasters a scowl on his face and slips his arm around my slender waist, feigning possessiveness. We're sitting around on a couch backstage after a show, and I'm exhausted. Must. Have. Coffee. "Watch it, Joel," Benji jokes, "you better not be hitting on my man."

I snuggle into my lover's arms, chuckling softly. "Don't worry, Joel," I sweep a hand out theatrically, "one day, we shall murder this treacherous man, and run away together!"

The coffee machine dings and Joel picks up the paper cup, strolling over to hand it to me before taking his place beside me on the couch. "You promise?"

I nod enthusiastically. "Promise. And we shall call it," I bring the pinky finger of my free hand to my lips, Dr. Evil style, "'Joel and Billy's Evil Master Plan'!"

My jaw drops as I stare at Joel's stony face. He's kidding. This is a joke. He's kidding. He'd never hurt Benji, ever. He loves him. Benji's his other half. "Joel, you are kidding, right?"

His mouth is set in a grim line, and he says nothing. "Joel, this is just a joke, right? Where's Benji?"

Even in the dark I can see his eyes flash with anger. "Just shut up about him already. I don't want to hear his name again, alright?" his voice is strained, like he has a headache or something, "He's dead. Benji is dead."

Oh my God. He's telling the truth.

My breath catches in my throat, and then the tears start to flow as I feel both fear and sorrow ripping me apart. My heart is pounding out of my chest, so loud that I can hear it resonating in my head. It won't be pounding much longer, though - surely it's going to explode, the heart can't withstand pain like this. The love of my life has been murdered by his own brother. His twin brother, no less, the one who's been by his side through everything. The last person he ever would have suspected - not that he was the kind of person to be suspicious anyway. He always saw the good in everyone. He even managed to see the good in me, all those years ago, and he turned me around.

I'm trapped in a car with the man who murdered the only person that really mattered.