“That’s her?” Paul demanded, sounding incredibly unimpressed.

“What are we gonna do?” Brad breathed, ignoring Paul and looking at Greg as Ritza made it to the other side of the road.

“Nothing,” Greg replied.

“Nothing!” Brad gasped.

“I doubt they’re going to go anywhere tonight. We might as well find somewhere to stay and deal with it in the morning,” Greg explained.

“I suppose you’re right,” Brad sighed.

“Call me crazy but shouldn’t we follow her, find out where they’re staying?” Paul inquired.

“I was about to suggest that,” Greg huffed.

“Hey, don’t get shitty at me,” Paul spat.

“You’ve been on my case all day,” Greg scorned.

“Don’t point at me man, it’s fucking rude to point,” Paul snapped.

“I’ll point all I like,” Greg remarked and began pointing in various directions with varying displays of stupidity.

“Will you two cut it out, she’s coming back,” Brad hissed.

Greg and Paul settled as Brad edged the car down a side street, did a U-turn and then followed Ritza until she disappeared into the shabby motel.

“I see she went for class,” Brad said bluntly.

“Well, we know where she is and where the girls are now,” Greg sighed.

“There’s a pub just round the corner,” Paul piped up. “We can stay there if you want.”

Brad took his foot off the brake and slowly drove away from the motel.

Gina and Fenny were both sprawled on their backs on the bed. They were so bored and hungry they were almost comatose.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so bored in my entire life,” Fenny sighed.

“I think this could equal the most boring experience of my life,” Gina agreed.

“What was the most boring experience of your life?” Fenny asked curiously.

“You know, I think it was so boring I can’t remember,” Gina giggled.

Fenny giggled as well, but both were quickly hushed when the door flew open and Ritza marched in.

“Here, this should keep you two fucking whiners quiet for a while,” she snapped, dumped a bag on the bed, and stormed out again.

Gina sat bolt upright and grabbed the bag. “Hot chips,” she cooed, “or fries to you, my American friend.”

“I don’t care what they’re called, let’s just eat,” Fenny demanded and unwrapped the paper, groaning appreciatively at the smell of chicken, salt and vinegar thatfilled the room.

Brad, Greg and Paul wandered into the pub and inquired about rooms. There was one room left, with a double bed. They agreed to take it despite not knowing how they were going to sleep.

“The three of us can’t possibly fit on that,” Paul pointed out as they stepped into the room.

“I’m not going to sleep anyway, knowing that Fen is just around the corner having god knows what done to her by Ritza,” Brad grumbled.

“Now there’s a thought,” Paul mused.

Brad gave him daggers. “You’re disgusting, dude,” Greg added.

“Does anyone object to me watching TV?” Brad asked, flopping on the end of the bed with the remote.

“Doesn’t bother me, I’m going for a smoke,” Greg announced and left the room

Brad settled on watching Buffy and Paul soon decided to join Greg.

“So, if and or when we get out of this, what are you going to do?” Fenny asked.

“What do you mean, what am I going to do?” Gina countered.

“You know, are you going to try things with Greg or try and save your marriage?”

“What marriage? I don’t think Paul would ever have me back,” Gina laughed.

“So you’re going to try things with Greg?” Fenny queried.

“I figure I’m screwed either way,” Gina sighed. “What about you and Braddles, you’re too soft not to go back to him. Will you still move to LA?”

“Yeah, I think I will. I feel the need for change,” Fenny said whimsically.

“Change? Ha, you just want to root around with Brad at every available opportunity,” Gina mused.

“Ok, so that’s a bonus,” Fenny shrugged. “So who’s better, Greg or Paul?”

“Excuse me?” Gina gasped.

“You heard, come on, entertain me,” Fenny jeered.

“Well…”

“Cigarette?” Greg asked from his position on the fire escape as he heard the door slam.

“How did you know it was me?” Paul asked, taking a seat next to Greg.

“Brad’s watching Buffy, right?” Greg mused.

“Yeah,” Paul nodded as he took a cigarette. “This is one fucked up situation man.”

“No really,” Greg sarced as he lit Paul’s cigarette.

They puffed away in silence for a moment.

“Are you pissed with me for sleeping with Gina?”

“I don’t know, sorta. I can’t believe you’d do that to your wife,” Paul scorned.

“Hey, I didn’t exactly plan it,” Greg spat. “So, do you love her?” he added.

“Possibly, maybe, I don’t know,” Paul shrugged. “Do you?”

“Will you hit me if I say I do?” Greg asked.

“I’ll stub this out in your eyes,” Paul remarked, looking at his glowing cigarette.

“Really?”

“No.” Paul sighed. “I think I might love her, you know.”

“This is way too fucked up,” Greg sighed.

“I’ll drink to that,” Paul agreed. “If we had any booze.”

“Fuck,” Greg suddenly hissed.

“What?” Paul asked.

“Those two guys down there, they’re the ones who tried to kill us earlier,” Greg breathed.

“What the hell are they doing here? I thought they’d be long gone,” Paul whispered.

“So did I. We’d better get back to the room,” Greg said quietly as he stubbed his cigarette out.