"Hey, Oscar!" the familiar voice caught him just as he left his apartment. It was technically afternoon, but as far as Oscar was concerned, it was still morning because he hadn't been awake for more than an hour yet.

"Oh, hey, Emma," Oscar returned as he paused in the hallway outside his door. He and Emma used to talk a lot, but lately, he'd not seen her around. "Didn't you move in with your boyfriend?" he wondered casually.

"Yeah, well, sort of—not really. I mean, I was, but he's not my boyfriend anymore." Emma explained as she pulled one of her long sleeves down over her hand so only her black nails peaked out.

"Ah, I see... well, probably for the best," Oscar assured. He knew the type that Emma generally dated, which always ended the same. It was why he'd never attempted to date her despite their similar taste in fashion. They'd screwed around a few times, but Oscar avoided anything that seemed like a committed relationship. Or at least, that's what Emma had told him about himself.

"How have you been? You look good," she said.

"Good, you too. Sorry, I'm kind of in a hurry. I'm meeting up with someone." Oscar said as he started moving towards the stairs as a subtle hint that he was ready to be done talking now and because the elevator was likely still broken.

"Oh, right, of course! We can catch up some other time!" Emma said, taking a step back to her door.

"See ya later," Oscar said before the door to the stairwell closed behind him, safely relieving him of any further social obligation. He liked Emma; she was nice, but she was too nice, and he knew her type. She saw him as someone who was broken and needed fixing. But Oscar didn't want to be fixed. He was fine with the level of broken he was and had no interest in bettering himself to the standards of some stupid social ideology. He was perfectly imperfect, as he put it.

But more importantly, he was supposed to meet up with Max, and after how things had gone last night, he was eager to see his friend again. Their kiss was still burned into his mind, replaying over and over. He wished he'd been more sober to remember how Max had tasted or hadn't picked such a stupid moment to make a move, but hindsight was a bitch like that. Rather than dwell on it too much, Oscar decided to focus on the present. What was in the past couldn't be changed.

He stepped out of his building's lobby into the rush of noise from the city and surveyed the street for Max's car. When he didn't see it, he checked his phone.

He'd just gotten a text from Max, telling him he was almost there, but he must not have heard it while he and Emma were talking. As promised, Max soon pulled up to the curb right in front of Oscar's apartment building. He wasn't in his usual car, though. This one was sportier looking but also a less expensive model than the one he'd driven last night and was a bright electric blue with matte black racing stripes and a spoiler to complete the 'rich-douchebag-car' look.

He popped open the passenger door for Oscar, wearing a casual smile and a pair of cheap sunglasses on top of his hair that looked way better on him than they should have. "Hey, sorry about that. Should've just taken the highway here, but you know how it is."

Oscar rolled his eyes but failed to look displeased with Max as he slid into the passenger's seat. He wasn't wearing his biker vest this time and looked pretty bare in just his sleeveless T-shirt. However, there were still plenty of hidden signs in his full arm of tattoos that marked him as a Devil's Reject gang member. He had a red plaid flannel shirt tied around his waist in case he wanted to cover his tattoos, but it was usually just something to wipe his hands on.

"So, how many places does your family own around the city? Is it a lot?"

Max shrugged. "Yeah," he replied honestly as he merged back onto the street traffic. "Kind of. I doubt we own as many as the Cappella's, but it's more than a few. The one I mentioned last night, the one we're going to, it's over in Applerock."

Applerock couldn't have been any further away from where Oscar lived, it was on the far eastern edge of the city. "So, is this place we're going to, where your family, like ya know," Oscar made a motion across his neck to get his point across. "Deletes people?" Oscar had to admit that the idea that Max and his family had that kind of power was as terrifying as it was thrilling. It was no secret that he had an affinity for thrills, he wouldn't be part of a biker gang if he didn't enjoy a good rush of adrenaline.

"Not always," Max said as comfortably as answering what his favorite drink or color was. "That usually depends on who needs to be deleted," he continued, unable to help smirking at Oscar's term. "My dad doesn't like discussing the specifics of that kinda thing at the table, which is when we usually see him, but Petie's said once that it's best to smoke an Italian in his own backyard...and there's nowhere in Kingsport that you'll find more Italian mafia than in Applerock."

Oscar would have to take Max's word on that one, being that he knew so little about the eastern side of the city. Oscar was officially off his home turf when they left the Downtown metropolitan area. None of the roads or places looked remotely familiar. "So, do you, like, always carry? Do you have a piece in the car right now?" Oscar glanced into the back seat as if he expected to see a shotgun sitting in plain view.

Max made a visible effort not to laugh at Oscar's speculative look behind him. "Why? Are you?"

Oscar wordlessly lifted his shirt to reveal the 9mm handgun sitting between his jeans and the band of his boxer briefs. It looked like a cheap black Luger, an unremarkable piece with probably dozens like it floating around the west side.

"You son of a bitch," Max said, grinning like a villain. He took a few more glances down at the piece than he should have while driving. "Now you're just being distracting, but...you showed me yours, so..." With a quick reach and a flick of his wrist, Max had popped open the center console. Inside, next to a different pair of sunglasses and a couple of folded papers, was a Smith & Wesson M&P22 Magnum. "I always carry when I'm going to one of the houses."

Oscar let out an impressed whistle. "You just can't help being a flexy bitch about everything, can you?" This time, Oscar's accusation sounded more lighthearted than it had yesterday.

Max rolled his eyes, but his smile stayed. "I don't fuck around," he said, before adding, "When it comes to that, at least."

Oscar's reply was an approving "Good" as he found the proper control and leaned his seat back into a more comfortable position. "I don't either, too many crazy assholes in this town."

"Agreed," Max chuffed. "Us included."

Eventually, they made it through Kingsport's downtown area and into Applerock, at the city's northeast end. Skyscrapers and window-covered office buildings gave way to far less crowded streets and new construction homes. Though "homes" might not have been adequate for describing these houses. They were mansions, and some of them had driveways large enough to host an NBA game. They passed very few cars on the way as they wound through the glitzy subdivision, and before long, Max pulled into the drive of one of the houses. It didn't look quite as big as some of its neighbors, at least on the outside, but the bright green lawn on either side of the driveway was meticulous.

Max had a clicker for the garage and collected his Smith and Wesson, along with a small draw-string gym bag that was behind Oscar's seat, before leaving the car.

"And here we are," Max said, tossing his keys down on the long black granite counter as they came in through the kitchen from the garage. Despite the place being beautifully furnished, it noticeably lacked any of the distinct character or charm that would generally make a space feel like a home. No photos of family or knickknacks that didn't quite fit in. The plant in a vase they passed on the way to the living room felt fake when Oscar touched it. But the place looked and smelled lemony clean, and the AC was doing a good job fighting off the heat and humidity outside. "What do you think?"

"I think I could get used to this," Oscar said as he fell back into the plush leather couch and rested one boot on the coffee table. "Why you ever decided to go slumming it on the west side beats the hell out of me."

"Weeell..." Max shrugged and set his magnum on the mantel over the gas fireplace. "Found you on the west side," he said, eyes raking over Oscar's relaxed form. "So, that was a draw."

Oscar's chin lifted a little. "Yeah? I am pretty awesome," he said with a grin that had no business being smug as it was. He reached into his waistband and pulled out his own piece that he left on one of the end tables next to the couch before standing. "So, is this place fully equipped or just for show?"

Max's composure broke, and he snickered as he stared up at the ceiling, tapping at his lower lip with his fingers. "Uhh... There's a Jacuzzi upstairs, there should be some alcohol in the bar fridge in the game room, and I can order food when we get hungry..."

Oscar clapped his hands together and gave them a few rubs. "Sounds like a party to me!" he winked at Max and then wandered off towards the stairs. He had no idea where he was going, but he was fine with snooping around until he found where this Jacuzzi was.

The gym bag Max had brought in with them was still hung casually over his shoulder as he followed Oscar upstairs, watching with amusement as Oz found his own way around via the wonders of exploration.

A bedroom here, another there, a sitting room, a room attached to that one with enough floor-to-ceiling shelves to imply the space was for a personal library, a beautiful large bathroom, but Max informed him that that wasn't the one. Another bedroom with a powder room attached, then, finally, the master bedroom, with an enormous en-suite bath complete with a huge walk-in shower and a corner Jacuzzi.

What's that? A steamy scene next chapter?

Full steam ahead!! >:D  Choo-chooo!!