Little Doves & Bonafide Heroes ~ Archie Cruz

Blood Host

"I don't care."

"Bret Von Dehl, if you have any hope of me changing his mind, you will get your skinny ass back here and let me think of what I can try to do."

"He won't change his mind," he said frustratedly, habitually fluffing out his hair as he turned around. "You already said that."

"No, he probably won't, but I can ask him for advice on how you guys should go about this yourselves. That's the next best thing- and if he thinks it was his idea, he might make a few comments to the right people. That's all I can try to do, alright?"

Quietly, he slumped his shoulders, rolling his eyes as he sighed.

"Fine. I'm gonna," he gestured vaguely, "go get a drink, I guess," he mumbled, shuffling off to the kitchen.

'Jesus, that boy is going to make me crazy,' I thought, shaking my head as I looked around for my dad.

"Taime," I called out, spotting him smoking a cigarette in the backyard.

"Lucy!" he mocked, smiling as I walked over. "What's up, kid?"

"Bret."

"Oh?"

"Yeah... I told him that he needs to start doing things by himself and, uh, he's a little bitter."

"Look, you know I feel bad, but I can't juggle having to deal with taking care of my band and his. I just have a lot -"

"No, no, I get it, trust me. I told him that I would ask you for any little pointers you can give to help; you won't be doing anything, just giving advice on how he should go about all of this stuff."

"'Stuff 'as in?"

"He wants to get a Relapse Symphony headline tour going, so they need promoter attention and what not. I figured you might be able to tell me how to get in touch with someone, or something like that," I said with a shrug.

"I mean, sure I guess. Hey! What's in that cup?" he asked me.

"Sprite, why?"

"Give," he commanded, wiggling his fingers as he took the cup from me and tasted it. "Sprite. Good."

"Taime, I'm nineteen; leave me be."

"Yeah, you're nineteen, not twenty-one."

"Point being?"

"You're not legally allowed to drink."

"Like you never drank when you were underage!"

"I did, but not when there were a shit ton of people at my house."

"Although you have a point, I'm irritated with it."

"You'll live... Besides, it looks like your boyfriend is doing all of the drinking for you," he noted, nodding toward the house. "Didn't take long."

"Oh my god," I groaned, quickly heading into the house, where Bret was busy trying to climb onto the stair banister.

A handful of other drunk visitors had gathered around the bottom of the stairs, cheering him on as he tried to keep his balance.

"Bret Von Dehl! Get down from there!" I yelled, marching up the stairs.

"Baby! I'm glad you're here," he slurred, more or less falling over the banister and onto me. Luckily he still had a grip on the railing, otherwise, we'd be going down.