In the wake of all the distrust and intrigue, all the youth decided not to have their regular meeting at the hall the next day. Instead, they opted for a night out in Eridessa.
Well, some of us did, anyway. Artemis and Mystery, ever anti-social, decided to stay home (Artemis wanted to work on some poetry, while Mystery said she wanted to stay "in my field of paper flowers and candy clouds of lullabye, watching my purple sky fly over me", to which we all just nodded patiently). Nathan was already in Eridessa, visiting his sister in hospital.
Amelia spoke directly to Hannah. "Are you coming with us, Hannah?" she asked.
Hannah looked at her, her jaw slack as it so often was, but I thought I saw the corners of her mouth twitch upwards a fraction. She shook her head clumsily from side to side, let out a soft grunt, and started lumbering out of the room. As she went out the doorway, she half-turned and looked at Amelia and I, lifted a hand, and nodded her head. Then she continued out.



Tia snorted. "What was all that about?"
Amelia glared at her. "I think it was her way of saying, 'I won't go, but thanks for the invite'."
"Hey," I said suddenly. "Where's Julian?"
This, of course, prompted grins from the two vampires and my brother. They looked at each other, and I rolled my eyes. Whatever the answer was, it appeared Julian wasn't there.
"Jake and I are going to check out some of the clubs," Tia announced, twirling her hair and smiling at Jake. "Aren't we?"
"Yep," Jake said, hugging her waist from behind. I noticed Tamara roll her eyes in disgust.
That left Amelia, Tamara, Adam, Anastasia, Oswald and myself. Eventually, we decided to go bowling. We were able to borrow the Rosencrantz's people-mover*, and Amelia drove us in.
I wound up in the back, sitting next to Anastasia. She looked at me, then said "Are you still upset about the store room thing?"
I looked at her grumpily. "I can't imagine why," I replied.
"Can you get over it?" Adam called from a seat further forward. I suggested he do something very unpleasant to himself, but he just laughed.
"Well, I feel kind of bad about it now, if that helps," Anastasia said to me.
"Me too," Oswald added, twisting around in his seat to look at me with his glowing red eyes.
I looked out of the window impassively for a minute, then turned back to look at Anastasia with a raised eyebrow and a half-smile on my face. "'Kind of bad'?" I repeated.
"Yeah. It was slack. I'm sorry."
I looked out of the window again, then said "Whatever." But they seemed to take this as forgiveness, which is what I'd intended.
We eventually arrived at Speedy's Bowling, our favourite bowling alley. It was decorated in cheerful 50's style décor, complete with checkerboard linoleum flooring and Formica tables in the small cafeteria. Classic 50's rock and roll music was playing on a large jukebox in the corner. Some dusty pinball machines stood over on one wall between some arcade games. I was surprised we didn't have to follow a dress code demanding poodle skirts to get in the door.



We quickly claimed a lane, although it was fairly quiet, and started our game. We earned ourselves a nasty glare from the manager when Oswald forgot about his vampire strength and hurled a bowling ball down the lane at a terrifying speed, where it ploughed through the skittles with a thunderous crash, shattering two of them and leaving a dent in the wall behind. Oswald apologised to the guy and offered to pay for replacement skittles, but the manager just sighed and waved him away grumpily, telling him to behave and tone it down a little.
Between goes, I chatted to Amelia and Tamara (who, by the way, ended up winning by a mile) about Joanna's poisoning, and we all agreed it was very mysterious. Amelia seemed particularly suspicious of Lola, since we were all convinced that Lou didn't do it, and Adrianna looked too girly and incapable of such a feat.
We'd almost finished our game, when the door to Speedy's abruptly clattered open, and Tia and Jake entered. Well, by 'entered' I mean they almost fell through the door, laughing hysterically and clearly very, very drunk.
Or high.
Or both.
As we looked on in mild disbelief, Jake suddenly grabbed Tia in a firm embrace, and they started passionately making out, complete with hungry groping hands and a soundtrack composed of moans and heavy breathing.



"Oh, man," Amelia muttered.
"God, Jake!" Tamara yelled. "Get a room!"
"They're completely trashed," Amelia added.
"Really? I hadn't noticed," I replied.
The drama intensified as the manager walked over to the snogging couple and asked them to leave. They didn't even appear to hear, so he shook his head and walked over to a telephone, where he started dialling.
After about five minutes (during which Tamara sealed her victory, winning by more than twenty points due to a couple of amazing strikes), some police arrived. Tia and Jake were now both sitting on the floor, giggling and trying to talk to each other.
"Hey, Dad!" Tamara called. I looked up and noticed that one of the policemen was her father, Christopher. He saw her, gave a little wave, then turned his attention to the inebriated pair on the floor.
He shook his head sadly. "Jake, what's going on?"
Jake kept laughing even as he looked at his father. "Oh, hey, sorry man," he giggled, prompting hysterical laughter from Tia.
Jake turned to face her, still giggling. "Look out," he stage-whispered. "It's the fun police."



Tia burst into noisy laughter again, and the two policemen exchanged a look. I wondered if Christopher was going to arrest his own son. He took a deep breath.
"Turn out your pockets, Jake."
By this time, our group had fallen silent, and were all watching the proceedings with great interest.
Jake unsteadily got to his feet, and Christopher took the opportunity to plunge his hands into the pockets of Jake's jacket.
"Hey—hey, what're you doing?" Jake slurred, surprised.
Christopher slowly pulled his hand out of the jacket pockets, retrieving a small plastic bag. In it were two white pills.
Tamara gasped beside me. "Where on earth did my brother get those?" she whispered.
"Dunno, but I sure hope they're just Panadol or something," Amelia said.
Christopher looked angrily at Jake. "Where did you get this?"
Jake looked confused, his eyes unfocused. "What?"
"You have illegal drugs in your possession!" Christopher barked. "I didn't raise you to be like this!"
Jake's skittering eyeballs tried to focus on the little bag in his father's hands. "Oh, nah, man," he said seriously. "They're not...they're just tricking you."
Disappointed, Christopher walked behind Jake and handcuffed him. "Jake Rosencrantz…"
He started reciting what I called the 'arrest' speech. Tia started to swear at him angrily, but he took no notice.
"…you do not have to say or do anything, but anything you do say will be recorded and may be used in court…"
In a matter of minutes, Jake and Tia had been led out of the bowling alley, leaving us astounded and with renewed respect for Christopher – arresting his own son must've been the toughest thing he'd ever had to do. As the doors swung open and shut with their departure, I thought I glimpsed a figure standing on the pavement outside. I squinted - surely it wasn't...?
"Back in a minute," I muttered to the others.
"Where're you going?" Amelia called.
"To get some fresh air," I replied.
I walked purposefully out of the bowling alley. It was quite dark, and difficult to see much, but after walking a little towards the back of the building, I found – of all people – Julian.



I was surprised. "What are you doing here?" I asked.
Julian turned to look at me, startled. Then he shrugged. "I was passing through, and I heard everyone was here at bowling," he replied. "I wasn't sure whether I should join you or not."
It was then I noticed he was wearing a characteristic white mask over half of his face. "What, so you're trying to be the Phantom of the Opera now?" I asked.
Julian laughed shortly. "No, I just thought I'd try and make a fashion statement."
"A fashion statement," I repeated, smiling wryly. "Now, there's something you need to work on."
He didn't smirk. Instead, he seemed to swallow and turn away.
Sensing my chance, I took two quick steps over and pulled at the mask. Almost simultaneously, as it came away from his cheek, he lashed out surprisingly with his hand – possibly to strike out at me, or possibly to instinctively hide his face. Whatever happened, I copped a sharp slap on the face, and he swore loudly. But I had still managed to pry the mask away.
In astonishment more than pain, I turned back to face Julian, and saw an ugly red gash running across his cheek.
A gash that looked oddly similar to his mother's scars.



I gasped. "Oh, my God…"
"That bad, is it?" he asked, his voice strained. He tried to shrug. "I thought it looked pretty sexy, actually."
But he wasn't his usual cocky self at all. Silently, I handed the mask back to him, and he quickly replaced it.
There was an awkward silence for a minute, where we both didn't look at each other. Instead, we stared down at the pavement, as though mesmerised by the cracks that wound their way across the concrete.
Eventually, I broke the silence. "So, I guess it's…a genetic thing, then?"
Julian nodded. "It would appear that way."
I just looked at him, and he glared at me. "I don't want your pity, of all people," he muttered.
I felt real tears sting my eyes. "I'm sorry."
He shook his head, as if to acknowledge what I said. Then he sighed. "I got my lines wrong. I was meant to say 'Damn you, you little prying Pandora', wasn't I?"
I was surprised. "You know the Phantom of the Opera?"
He nodded. "My mum, she watches it all the time," he said. "It's one of her favourites, even though it makes her cry, every single time…when the Phantom is rejected by Christine…"
He trailed off, and for a moment his eyes looked unnaturally bright. With a deep sense of sadness, I quickly drew the parallels between his mother's life and the Phantom's.
I tried another attempt at conversation. "So, how does it stay on, anyway?" I asked.
"Superglue," he replied, straight-faced.
I smiled. "No, really," I said. "I've often wondered how…"
"That," he said theatrically, "is a secret between me and Phantom."
"Do you know him?" I joked.
"What, the one from the movie?" he asked. "The one played by that Butler guy?"
"Yeah," I said. "Can you introduce me?"
He looked perplexed. "Why?"
I shrugged. "He's really freaky, but strangely attractive."
Julian looked at me in disbelief, and started to laugh. "You think a murderer with an obsessive fixation and a facial disfigurement is attractive?" he cried, grinning. He shook his head. "Girls…"
"I don't care about looks," I said simply.
He looked down and scuffed his toe on the ground. "Nice to know there's someone who doesn't," he said bitterly. "Unlike my excuse for a father who I never even knew." He paused. "I don't even want to know him, to tell you the truth. Does that make me a bad person, Ellie?"
I shook my head. "I don't think so."
He sniffed. There was a brief pause, and I was about to speak again when I heard a shout.
"Ellie?" a voice called. Footsteps. "Is that you?"
"No," I called back. The footsteps came closer.
Amelia appeared out of the darkness. "It is you," she said, then stopped when she saw who I was with. "What, no bloodshed?"



I was about to respond, but saw her squinting at Julian. "Is that a Phantom mask you're wearing?"
Julian got in before I could say anything. "Yeah, it was for a role play thing at one of the drama clubs in Eridessa. Just a small part, you know."
Amelia nodded, not entirely convinced. "Right," she said, glancing from Julian to me. "Phantom. Small part. OK. Um, Ellie, are you coming? We're leaving."
"Yeah, I am," I said. I glanced up briefly at Julian. "You coming?"
He shook his head. "I'll make my own way home," he replied.
"You sure?"
Shrug. "Yeah. I got a taxi here, I can get a taxi back again--"
"Or you can just grab a lift and save the money," I pointed out.
He shook his head again. "It's OK. Really."
I raised my eyebrows, but he seemed resolute. "Well, OK then," I said. "See you."
He waved goodbye, and I walked off with Amelia. She hissed in my ear, "What on Earth was going on back there? You were actually civil, and you're never civil to each other. And what's with the mask? He doesn't do role playing! What are you two up to? And—"
"Let's just say it was an interesting conversation," I said shortly, and she dropped it.

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* "People-mover" = minivan. (Because really, if a vehicle designed to seat 6+ people is considered a minivan, then regular vans must be enormous!)