night at the Whitfield

Floyd had talked them into it. Actually, just Rosco because Gordy had so much studying, and he didn't want to leave Jane with Serena for too long.

Floyd thought they should play the Whitfield. It was an old gym, originally, but it had a basement too where two show could be on at once. The Whitfield Underground.

"But we'd be on the main floor," Floyd said. "I hate basements."

"You come over all the time, and its a good place to be if there's a tornado," Rosco said as they were going in to the hall to see a local band.

"True, but I don't like this basement," Floyd explained. "I peed my pants down there once. I ain't going back."

"I see." Rosco still didn't get it. He didn't get a lot of things, evidently. Like Emily's parents not wanting him to see her, and there she was at the show. Alone. "Shit." Rosco said under his breath just then.

"What?" The show hadn't started yet. The lights were dim, but light enough for you to at least check out the merchandise and all the scene queens.

"Emily." Rosco pointed. There she was with neon green hair mascara highlighting her bangs. She looked really hot in the strapless bra she was flaunting, sort of vintage Madonna, only in black with neon green stockings and a shocking pink ankle boots.

Rosco didn't know what to do. He couldn't ignore her. She was startling, and it hurt to think she was here alone at the show.

He walked towards her then, but some tall dude in a striped scull cap and studs in his mouth embraced her like he was more than a friend. A lover, perhaps.

Rosco gritted his teeth then and tightened his fist. This was just wrong. How could she do this? How could she not know who he was? Nor even see him.

"Now, just let it go." Floyd told him, grabbing his shoulder before he had to watch anymore of the heavy duty tongue lashing she was giving him. Rosco bit at his bottom lip. He couldn't help but stare. What was he going to do now?

His nose watered. He really didn't want to stay for the show, but he'd came with Floyd. He had to stay put.

Floyd brought back a whiskey and coke from the bar. He was sipping it. "Here, take the edge off."

Rosco took a sip. His throat burned of the muddy tasting mixture. "How can you stand this stuff?" Rosco grimaced. It was the worst thing he'd ever tasted, but maybe if he drank the whole thing he might go numb. So he did.

"Now take it easy there, speed racer." Floyd gave him a hard look then. "You find you some action. All right. No use worrying about the likes of Emily. You're young. You start talking up our band, and we might just get us some groupies started."

"I'm not talking shit with any of them. I thought this was research." Rosco squinted.

"Networking. That's what they call it. You think you can do that?"

"Do I have too?"

"Only if you get laid first," Lloyd told him.

Rosco gave him a deep sigh and walked to the men's restroom. He needed to take a leak while he still remembered. Afterwards, he got out his phone and looked to see if Emily had called. Of course not. Why should she?

He got it in his head then to call her parents. Let them know what was up. It was for her own good, after all.

"Hey, this is Rosco," he told her mother. "No, no I don't want to talk to Emily. I was just wondering if you knew where she was tonight?"

He didn't smile when they told her she was in her room watching Sponge Bob. Was that really Emily? He then thought. Would she have ever watched Sponge Bob?

"Are you sure?" He supposed her mother wouldn't lie, but what if she had? He put his cell away then. Took one more look at Emily's twin. Maybe Bella was back, and she just hadn't told anybody.