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Against all odds, Marcus Lewis was happy.

It was a loose grasp of happiness, a hand clutching onto the frozen lake surface after falling through, but one nonetheless. The entire week felt like it spanned a year, with Marcus's memory of his school fight seeming some echo from the distant past. Yet that had led him here, at a table in a bar in Boston, laughing with the first exotic hybrids he'd ever met face to face. Part of him wondered if he owed Eli a thank you note.

For the most part, Marcus kept quiet while the other three talked. Partly because he didn't have much to add to the conversation, partly that he was still shy about talking in groups. The specters of failed attempts in years past tended to reach out from the recesses of his memory and hold his muzzle closed. He didn't mind, though. Just being at the table with Melody, Dylan, and Karl left him feeling like a welcome addition rather than a trespasser. That was enough for him.

"So... Marcus," Dylan began, turning the group's attention to their new comrade. The equine's speech had a lyrical bend to it, the words coming out with a deliberate cadence and an accent that was both distinct but impossible to place. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how exactly did you happen upon our little ragtag bunch of misfits?"

The jackalope blew a breath out, feeling his legs go fidgety beneath the table once again. He thought about giving the table a less panicky version of the speech from Melody's dressing room, but decided that was a lot of information to spill all at once upon his new friends. With six eyes peering back at him, Marcus was on the spot and that old familiar urge to run in the opposite direction crept in.

"Uh..." the teen started, buying time while he chose his words as carefully as he could. "Things weren't going well back home so I... moved out."

Marcus nodded, that would do. There wasn't any need to give out every little detail. He looked around the table, hoping that the answer was adequate for everyone. Melody might have known the whole story, but she seemed content to just leave it at that for the time being. Dylan was nodding in silent agreement, while Karl's massive feathered head shook lightly.

"Just up and left, huh? Felt like ya'd get a fresh start in Boston?"

The jackalope shrugged, doing his best to keep up an air of cool about him. To look less like a kid Melody had snagged off of the street and more like one of the group's peers, even if he wasn't old enough to actually drink with them. "I dunno," he replied simply. "I didn't really have anywhere in mind, you know? Just kinda hopped in my car and started driving. Boston was the only place I could think of."

His eyes met with Karl's and for a moment his confidence wavered. In contrast to the more gently expressive equines, the hippogriff's face was sharp. Stern. The natural downward curve of his beak and the heavily feathered browline made him look every inch the predator even when he was laughing, and it meant when he was sitting in silence Marcus found himself reminded that he was made up of two species that might have been preyed upon by one of Karl's in a past age.

The moment didn't last long. The big half-eagle tipped his beer back, finishing off the rest of it and thunking the bottle down on the table audibly. "Hell of a place to think of, kid."

Marcus shrugged, happy for the break in eye contact. It made it easier to resume his casual facade. His shoulders relaxed again and he rested back in his seat. "I guess I figured since that's where the adoption place is, maybe that meant there would be more hybrids around than where I was. Back home I was pretty much it, and look, I already met you guys and it's my first day here! I was right!"

Marcus looked around the table. No response from the group. So, the youngest member of the Exo Club continued.

"I mean, come on. I grew up in this upper class town, went to a private school. Everyone around me was all stuck up their own asses, you know? Bad enough that I was adopted, but everyone made extra special sure that I knew I wasn't one of them every chance they got. My parents were barely home, and like, I never felt like they thought of me as, y'know... theirs. It was like they wanted to show me off more than spend any real time with me."

Marcus took a breath, looking down into his glass, where the ice had long since melted away. He looked up at the three seated around the table with him. "I just wanted to get the fuck out of there and maybe, I dunno, find somewhere I could fit in better. You guys know what that's like, don't you?"

Glances passed back and forth between the rest. They did know. Unlike most any other audience Marcus Lewis could have had, this one knew exactly what it was like. Each of them had gone through their own versions of the jackalope's story.

As was often the case, Karl was the first to break the silence.

"Yeah, well, doesn't mean it was the smartest idea to just bounce out like that," he said. The hippogriff's voice landed as heavily as his footsteps did, coming across with a rough edge that gave Marcus his first small stab of discomfort since he'd sat down.

Melody rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, Karl. You say that like you didn't run away, too."

"That was different!" The half-eagle barked with enough volume it made Marcus jump. The other two weren't so affected, used to their friend's outbursts. They both had vaguely disappointed looks on their faces, though, something that didn't go unnoticed by the agitated hybrid.

Karl grunted and put his beer bottle down with a defiant thunk, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed. "I'm just sayin'. I ain't mad the kid's here, fuck knows he's lucky we found him before someone else did, but just jumpin' out to a big city with no plans? For real, what woulda happened if you'd been off, huh? Or if he'd gone in another direction? Kid could got himself killed or end up..."

Melody took the baton Karl had unwittingly passed to her. "...or end up where? Hm? Where were you thinking?" she asked him, eyes slightly narrowed.

Karl's demeanor changed instantly. "Mel, c'mon, you know I didn't mean it like that," he said, his big arms flexing anxiously, broad shoulders visibly tensing. "But I mean... yeah. You tellin' me when you ran off that was where you were hopin' to go? Hopped on a bus to Boston and said drop me off wherever the guys will pay?"

The unicorn immediately put her hand up, palm towards Karl and her head turned to the side, signalling she was done with the conversation. Karl himself, however, wasn't.

"Don't fuckin' gimme that, Mel, you know goddamn well what I'm sayin'. If he wants to move out to Boston, I'm more'n happy to have 'im, but shit ya gotta have an idea what yer doin', right? Dylan? Tell me I ain't crazy."

The horse in the middle clearly did not want to be any part of the argument. He let his gaze pass from Melody to Karl and back again, searching for some hint of an easy escape to avoid causing any further flared tempers. So, in the interest of keeping himself out of the fray as much as possible, he leaned more in Marcus's direction, aiming is reply that way.

"I think what Karl is saying is just that it's going to be difficult to start again out here if you're just coming in on your own," Dylan said. His voice had a lyrical quality to it, every word pronounced deliberately. When he spoke, it sounded as though he'd rehearsed the line a thousand times to make sure it came out perfectly. "We understand why you left, but we also know how hard it can be out here. The world isn't exactly easy on us, we'd hate to see you get into trouble."

Marcus was cringing lightly in his chair. As brief as it had been, and for only knowing any of them for such a short time, the jackalope felt like he'd been in the room with his parents fighting. It was an anxiety that doubled because he was the cause of it.

"No no, I get it!" Marcus quickly replied, doing his best to hold back the awkwardness that tightened around his chest. "Yeah, I mean... I know it seems kinda crazy, just jumping in the car and driving out here, but I dunno..."

The jackalope swallowed, trying to force that small bubble in his throat down into his belly. "Hey, uh, is there a bathroom? I gotta pee."

Melody nodded, pointing the way, and Marcus quickly scuttled off, with the rest of Club Exotic watching him as he went.

"Way to go, Karl," Melody said, her voice pointed.

The hippogriff groaned, rubbing at his feathered face. "Mel... for fuck's sake, you know I wasn't tryin' to start a fight."

"Oh I know, you never mean to," came the reply, before Melody took a sip of her drink. "You just have to tell it like it is, right?"

"Am I wrong? I mean it's one thing if he had a job or whatever, but... Dylan, c'mon, back me up, yeah?" Karl said, turning towards the other equine.

Dylan sighed faintly, looking towards Melody. "I hate to say it, but I'm rather on Karl's side here. Where's he going to stay? What's he going to do? Boston isn't exactly the kind of place one can just head to with a lick and a promise. I hope he's got some money saved up until he can find his footing."

The unicorn winced, recalling what Marcus had told her about the bag, but decided to keep that to herself for the moment. She let out a breath and shook her head. "I know, but I mean, you heard him. He said he's never actually met an exo before. What was I supposed to do? He pretty much kicked in the door at Temptations, I couldn't just let him get thrown out. I figured if he stuck with us at least he'd be safe."

Karl grunted unhappily, looking down at the empty bottle in front of him. Underneath the table his equine leg stomped rhythmically, but not too loudly.

The unicorn saw she just about had Karl won over, so she kept going. "Listen, guys. He's confused, out on his own for the first. We all remember what that was like, right?" she said, to a pair of nodding heads, one more reluctant than the other. "Yeah. So at least he was lucky enough to find us, and we can make sure he doesn't have to go through the same shit we did."

Dylan chuckled quietly. "That's a fair point," he said, tilting his white-and-black speckled head towards the table's third. "He's already here. It's not like we went and plucked him out of his house. I have a feeling he's not going to be too keen on driving back, so the best we can offer is some guidance."

Karl now had two pairs of eyes on him awaiting his approval. Even though he was out-voted, the others still wanted him to be on board. He knew it, and they knew he knew it.

"I mean... yeah, okay, fine," the big griff relented with a grunt. Noticing the smug look on Melody's face, he quickly added, "But where's he gonna stay, huh? One-a you wanna put him on your couch til he gets himself settled?"

Melody did her best to keep her grin restrained. "He said he has a hotel. We'll figure it out from there."

Karl shook his head in vague resignation, lifting his arm up to signal he wanted another beer from the tender. "Yeah, well, better hope he gets his shit together quick. This city'll eat him up if he doesn't hit the ground runnin'."

Dylan shrugged, casually stirring his own drink with the straw in it. "That's why we're here, I suppose. To give him the kind of help we wish we'd gotten."

Back in the men's room at the rear of Tulune's, Marcus Lewis was leaning on the sink, looking at himself in the mirror. Truthfully, he hadn't really needed to use the facilities, but was hoping to get a moment to breathe and regroup after what he felt had been a bit of a stumble after a strong start. He washed his hands in cold water, pressing his palms on either sides of his ears to try and cool himself down.

"Oooookay, Marcus," he said to his reflection, keeping his voice low just in case someone else walked in. "Kinda fucked it up there, but we still have this. They're on your side. It's like the... horse guy said. Come on. Head in the game. Let's go."

He took a few slow, deep breaths and went back out into the main room, doing his best to look as casual as he could. It was an act he'd gotten good at over the years. It wasn't uncommon for him to get a video call from his adoptive mother and immediately put on the "everything's fine" shtick, pulling it off convincingly enough that his roommate had commented that he should be an actor.

"Hey, sorry about that," he chuckled, keeping it good and subtle. That was one thing he'd learned. Putting too much effort into the ruse made it obvious. "Pretty sure I've had about a gallon of soda tonight."

The other three chuckled in return, without much enthusiasm either. As the jackalope took his seat again, and with some silent prodding from Melody, Karl coughed lightly to get Marcus's attention.

"Uh, sorry about gettin' all up your ass earlier," he said. It was a genuine apology, even if it was equally clear that the hippogriff didn't enjoy delivering it. "Doc's been adjusting my dosages, sometimes I get kinda riled. Just tryin' to say, shit's tough out there, yeah? World ain't too easy on hybrids, let alone us exos."

Marcus nodded rapidly. He was more than happy to just let the subject drop entirely. The fact that Karl was apologizing to him about it was almost a bonus, letting him feel like he was being the nice guy by letting it go.

"Oh yeah, it's cool," the jackalope said, shaking his head and waving a hand dismissively. "I get it, really..." he paused then, looking at the oversized hippogriff a moment. His curiosity was getting the better of him. "You ran away, too?"

Karl's arms pulled in towards himself again, and he let out an unhappy breath. "Yeah, kid. I did," he said flatly, as the bartender from earlier put another bottle on the table next to him, taking the empty away with her. "Right outta high school. Soon as my old man realized I wasn't fit to be what he wanted me to be, he didn't want me around, so I put my shit in my truck and went drivin'. Lived out the back of it for a while, hopped from city to city. Picked up whatever jobs I could. Ain't a lotta places lookin' to hire one-a us..."

The hippogriff's jaw visibly flexed back behind his hooked beak. He was looking at the middle of table, speaking to Marcus but almost indirectly. "Lemme tell ya somethin', kid. Life's tough. I ain't gonna fuckin' sugar coat it. You think it's bullshit dealin' with assholes in class and parents givin' you hell cuz you're not livin' up to whatever they wanted outta ya, but it's a whole different ballgame when you're on your own. Out here it ain't like that. No one wants shit outta ya. Sounds great, right? No expectations, no one hasslin' ya? It ain't. It's fuckin' rough. All those purebreds, they'd be happier if ya didn't exist at all. You gotta go outta your way just to prove that you're worth their time, cuz they're gonna be lookin' sideways at ya no matter where you go. Gettin' a job, gettin' a place to live, gettin' a fuckin' seat at a fuckin' restaurant, gettin' anything..."

"Karl."

Melody's voice cut through the growing tirade, catching his attention and bringing his focus back to the room around him. She nodded her head downward towards the hippogriff's hand at his opposite forearm. Karl followed the nod, looking at his own arms as though he hadn't been aware of what they were up to, and quickly released himself.

"Fuck, sorry Mel, wasn't tryin' to get all doom an' gloom," he said, voice lowered. The half eagle's hands were now busying themselves by taking one of the nearby cardboard beer coasters and tearing small pieces off of it. Marcus glanced in the direction Melody had been a moment ago and saw the loose feathers sitting on the table, and the bald patches on Karl's forearms. He saw that there were far more of them than would have been made by those few feathers.

"Really, it's, uh... it's fine, I get it," Marcus cut in, feeling the mood in the room begin to drop. "Heh, my mom, I mean my adoptive mom, she's a therapist. I know all about how it can get with, y'know, getting the dosages right." He swallowed. "So um... wait, did we all run away?"

Marcus's attention went to Dylan and Melody, seeing a pair of expressions that said he guessed that one accurately.

"All of us?" Marcus repeated, incredulous.

"Well... I'm not sure that's quite accurate," Dylan interjected. "Ran away makes it sound like we were all children sneaking out with our clothes in a backpack. But... I suppose it's also true that we did make our exits rather... abruptly," he confessed.

"Why did you?" Marcus asked. His curiosity was at an all-time high now, leaning forward, listening attentively. It was one thing to know that he was in a group who understood the struggle, but the idea that they'd all followed the same path was fascinating to him.

The soft-spoken horse chuckled quietly, shrugging just one shoulder. "The same reason we all did. A lifetime of being forced down a certain path and deciding it was no longer the one I wanted to traverse. A bit of soul searching led me here where, by some cosmic chance, I happened upon these two and decided this was where I would remain. It does appear that wherever we may roam, Boston is where we eventually land."

Marcus's attention turned toward Melody, who let out a typically equine snort. "As for me, well, not much different from these two chuckleheads. Decided I wanted to live my own life, hitched my way until I hit a big city and stopped here. See? You're more a member of the club than you realized."

The jackalope shifted faintly in his seat. He wasn't sure if he should feel better about having that connection with the other three, or faintly guilty because he had a sneaking suspicion his reason for leaving wasn't quite as severe as theirs.

Karl, sensing the discomfort, chuckled and flagged a bartender down to get his beer replaced. "See? You're already fittin' in perfectly. You'll like it out here, kid. Probably a hell of a lot more excitin' than back where you came from. There's a reason we all felt like stickin' around."

Mercifully, that changed the tone of the conversation. The three went into their sales pitches on Boston, telling Marcus about their favorite parts of life in Boston. Karl began to regale Marcus with an absolute tsunami of statistics on the sports teams, Dylan raved about the art scene (giving none-too-subtle hints about stage performances of his own that Marcus could attend), and Melody told him all about the night life that he wasn't old enough to enjoy just yet but would be absolutely worth it once he was. For a jackalope whose most exciting evenings involved a headset and a controller in his hands, it sounded like a dream.

Sure, Marcus knew they were sanitizing the town quite a bit for his benefit, but there was no denying that Boston did sound exciting. He didn't quite have the heart to say he wasn't exactly planning on moving there, but then again, if this was who would be there to greet him, maybe he would.

Drinks were refreshed, and more idle chatter volleyed in every direction around the table. Marcus began to relax again, chiming into the conversation whenever he had anything to contribute, laughing at Karl's loud and frequently terrible jokes alongside Dylan's sarcastic apologies for having to put up with them. As the evening wore on, though, a tiny little question began to grow louder, and Marcus just had to get an answer to it.

"Hey um... Dylan?" he said, sheepishly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course. What's on your mind?"

Marcus hesitated a moment, his feet tapping the floor beneath him. "Okay, uh, I'm really sorry if this sounds stupid or offensive or something but um... what are you?"

The question caught Dylan by surprise, while to either side of him laughter rang out in stereo. Marcus had unwittingly lightened the mood.

"What? I'm sorry! I just... it's kinda easy to tell with you guys, y'know? Melody, you got the horn, and Karl, your legs and all..." the jackalope rambled, trying to do some damage control while his ears flushed a hot red.

Dylan joined in the laughter, though his wasn't quite as jovial as theirs. "Oh! Uh, right. I guess I kinda forgot that it's not as... obvious on me. I'm a pegasus, Marcus. My mother was a horse, dad was a condor, I believe."

Although he'd gotten an answer, Marcus didn't look entirely satisfied by it. His eyes went to Dylan's shoulders, seeing no evidence there to support it. No hints of feathers at the neckline of his shirt. He swallowed once, reluctantly following up.

The jackalope gestured vaguely towards his own shoulders. "If... if you're a pegasus, shouldn't you have, y'know..."

"...wings?" Dylan said, completing the sentence.

Marcus nodded.

The pegasus nodded as well. "I did. And now I do not. It has made it easier for me to, for lack of a better word, blend in with the normals, although in truth I sometimes wish I still had them."

"What happened?" Marcus asked.

The question seemed to put Dylan on edge. He took a moment before answering, pulling in a slow breath through his nose and then out again. "My wings were not what you might call... functional, Marcus. As much as they brought me attention, some of it rather positive, they were a burden. They were heavy. They ached. Dressing myself was difficult, I generally needed help with my clothing. I realized that having them was putting limits on my life, so..."

"He went to the fuckin' Butcher."

"Karl!!" Melody snapped.

Marcus's attention immediately shot over to the hippogriff as well. It was only then that he realized the big half-avian had gone through more drinks than the rest. He could see it in Karl's eyes, the glassy shine to them. Those beers, it appeared, were loosening the tongue inside that hooked beak as well.

"Hey, you wanna let the kid know what it's like out here, we might as well just be upfront with him," he said gruffly, like it was an obvious decision.

A minor argument broke out between the older hybrids, each one talking over the other, leaving one at the center who had only a single question in mind. Marcus looked between the other three, cutting in with just enough volume to be heard.

"Who's the Butcher?"

Melody crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair unhappily, waving one hand across the table. "Go ahead. You already started, might as well finish."

Karl chuckled darkly, leaning forward on his elbows. "See, there's this shop out in the middle of Chinatown, it's owned by this old bird that sells a bunch of those crazy herbal remedies and shit. It's all garbage, right? But for higher payin' customers, he's got the rare stuff that you can't get your hands on anywhere else. Kinda shit you're not supposed to have."

"...like what?" Marcus asked, unsure he wanted to hear the answer.

The hippogriff's voice dropped, his words still vaguely smeared by the alcohol in his system but delivered as carefully as he could manage. "Well, there's a reason they call him the Butcher, kid."

The answer made Marcus's mouth go dry. He let out a nervous chuckle. "Okay, you're fucking with me, right? Just making a joke cuz I'm new out here, you think I'll believe any crazy story you tell me. Right?"

Marcus's eyes went to Dylan and Melody, but there was no reassurance from either. Both kept their attention towards the table.

The massive half-eagle continued, "Way back in the day, lotta people thought certain parts from certain species had all kinda magical shit going on. This'll give you a long life, this'll keep evil spirits away, that'll be good for the harvest. Shit like that. See, it might look like we're all civilized and all now, but a lotta those old superstitions are still hangin' around, and rich motherfuckers will buy that shit up. Especially if it's real hard to find. You know what's pretty fuckin' hard to find? Pegasus feathers."

Marcus's brow furrowed, his gaze going immediately over to Dylan. The pegasus was keeping his gaze down in his drink, his lips tightened, staying out of the conversation entirely. Marcus's attention went back up to Dylan's shoulders, the pieces slowly starting to come together.

Karl nodded. "Yeah. If you're one-a those species and you got one-a those parts? He's willin' to buy it off ya. Just think, a thousand years ago they wouldn't have asked first. Least now you can get paid."

The only one at the table who hadn't had a drop of alcohol that night, Marcus Lewis's head was suddenly spinning as though he were just as many beers deep as Karl. As for Dylan, the discomfort was painted all over his speckled face.

"Well," he began, lifting his glass an inch off of the table before letting it come down again, an audible punctuation mark. "I hadn't really planned on getting into my life story tonight. But I suppose there was no sense in hiding it. Thank you, Karl, for the dramatic retelling. Sometimes I'm surprised you didn't try to get into acting as well." Dylan turned to look at Marcus, then, the teen's face still displaying his disbelief. "I'm sorry that this all came out so abruptly, but yes. That is in fact what happened to my wings. I took that money and was able to keep myself afloat here in Boston until I could secure a job."

Marcus frowned, more awkward than ever. He wasn't sure which he regretted more, putting Dylan into that position of having something so personal talked about with someone he'd just met, or that he was beginning to learn that the world out from under the Lewis's roof was more frightening than he had expected. His mind went back to old history classes. They never mentioned anything like that. He began to wonder just how much he hadn't been told.

Melody shook her head, grabbing her drink and finishing it off. "Okay, if we're done scaring him, I think it's gettin' kinda late, might be time to head out. Dylan, please tell me you're driving Karl home."

The partial pegasus held up his hand, a keyring dangling around his index finger. "Told him I'd thank him for the ride by getting him home, so I suppose it's my fault he went a little overboard."

Karl let out a big laugh, slapping his hand down on the table. "Yeah! I'm an innocent victim, I was gonna go easy!"

The four friends paid their tabs, with Melody covering for Marcus, and exited Tulune's into the cool Boston night. Though it had been dark even before they arrived, Marcus was more aware of how late it had become. The caffeine from his drinks was wearing off, and he was starting to droop. When the sun was coming up that morning he was telling his adoptive mother that he was heading to school. Now he was leaving a bar in Boston with a group of exotics after meeting one in a strip club. It had been quite a day.

"Hey... hey Marcus?" The hippogriff said, on equally unsteady feet.

"Yeah?"

Karl dropped a heavy feathered hand on Marcus's shoulder, giving him a shake. "Hope I didn't make this place sound too bad..." he slurred, getting closer to bedtime. "F'real... I'm glad you're here, we gotta stick t'gether, right?"

Marcus looked up at him, those avian eyes fighting to focus, a smile doing its best to look non-threatening. It almost worked.

"Heh, really, it's all good. Thanks, I'm glad to be here, too," he replied, before Dylan helped guide Karl off towards his truck, and Melody and Marcus headed back towards Temptations.

The streets were no less populated, even so late on a Monday. When doors opened, music from inside other bars spilled outside. Marcus had taken this path four times now, each one under vastly different circumstances. This time, it was a peaceful walk, one that let him feel what it would be like to live there. Not a tourist, not chasing down a robber, just walking with a friend after a night out with more friends.

"Sorry about him," Melody said suddenly.

"What do you mean?" Marcus replied.

The unicorn shook her head, lighting up another cigarette. "Karl. He's a good guy, just thinks it's his job to be everyone's dad sometimes, and since he didn't have a great example on what a dad is..."

Marcus frowned lightly, his heart going out to the big guy. "Should he even be drinking if he's on medication? I know a lot of them say not to."

Melody sighed, blowing a small cloud of smoke out through her nose. "Probably not, but you've got a better chance telling the sun to stop rising in the morning than telling Karl to give up drinking. We've been trying to get him to cut back for a while. Really, he's the sweetest guy once you get to know him."

The jackalope nodded, looking down at his feet a moment. "It's okay. And uh, thanks for, you know, having me and all."

"It's like I said before, we gotta look out for each other. Lord knows no one else will."

The two arrived at Temptations, staying to the side of the bar as they did. When they entered, Marcus briefly wondered if they would find it difficult to wade through a crowd that was undoubtedly more drunk and worked up than they'd been earlier in the night, but all focus was on the girls having their turn to dance. Much as they'd attract plenty of attention normally, they were nearly invisible now.

Once in the back, Melody started gathering her things, and before Marcus realized it, she was pulling cushions off of the couch.

"Gimme a hand with this," she said, waving him over.

The jackalope followed his instructions, getting the room's central table off to the side, and finally pulling on the couch's frame, revealing a fold out bed.

"...you live in here?" Marcus said, his heart suddenly falling into his stomach.

Melody snickered. "No, you do. At least for now."

"I do?" he replied.

The unicorn nodded, treating it like the most obvious answer in the world. "Remember what I said about helping each other out. You got mugged and I'm willing to bet that hotel you're staying at costs more than zero dollars a night, so for now you can crash here."

Marcus Lewis stared at the bed, then at the hybrid who'd just invited him to stay on it. He needed a few seconds to let all of it sink in that this was in fact what she was saying he should be doing.

"Is that... I mean, I can't actually stay in a strip club, can I?"

She rolled her eyes. "It folds out for a reason. You won't be the first guy who's spent a night back here. Don't worry, the sheets are clean."

It wasn't something he'd been wondering at first, but now that was all Marcus could think about.

Melody gave him a copy of her key, put her number in his phone, and laid out the ground rules. Use the side exit, don't answer the door, basically don't make it obvious that someone was living in the back of the club. She'd deal with the owner, maybe Marcus could help out in the back so it wouldn't be quite so free. Keep your head down, don't rock the boat. Simple stuff.

"You think you'll be all right here, kiddo?" she asked, standing by the door while Marcus sat on the edge of his new bed.

Marcus thought about it. He didn't have an immediate answer. He wasn't all right, not really. He was stressed. He was scared. He didn't really like the idea of spending a night alone behind a place lke this, and thought about asking if he could just sleep at Melody's place. Truth be told, he'd never really spent a night alone before. Even at Greenwood there were security guards keeping watch and other students nearby, regardless of his opinion of them.

He still didn't know what he was doing out in Boston. As much as he'd enjoyed his time with the Exo Club, despite the dark turn it took at the end, he had to think about what he was going to do tomorrow, and after that. He had vague ideas, but nothing solid. He felt lost. Adrift. Melody was being extraordinarily kind to him, but a night before he'd been asleep on his massive bed in his parents' house in their gated community. Now he was here.

"...yeah I'm good," Marcus replied, nodding.

The elegant equine tilted her head a bit, reading him. She hummed, skeptical but willing to let it pass. "Okay. I'm not seven days a week here, but I'll be around tomorrow and we can get you some new clothes. Mini fridge is all yours, I always keep it full. If anything comes up, call me."

With that, Marcus was alone.

He wandered around the dressing room a bit, now that he had the place to himself. His adrenaline was gone, fatigue was settling in rapidly. Somehow, pulling the couch out did make it look more home-like. Melody had clearly been using it for a while, there were signs of it being lived in everywhere. That made it at least better than a hotel room out on the edge of town.

"Ugh... I gotta get my shit from there tomorrow..." he muttered to himself, peeking inside the fridge, looking through magazines, but doing his best not to be looking anywhere he shouldn't. He checked his phone, and discovered it was nearly midnight and that his phone battery was nearly dead. There weren't quite as many new messages, though there were a few. Another task for tomorrow.

Marcus found a phone charger nearby and plugged in, pulling off his shoes and torn jeans, getting into the makeshift bed. Even though the mattress wasn't close to as comfortable as the one back home, it was enough for a jackalope who'd had the longest day of his life. He needed sleep, and so he drifted off.