Turn It Into Magic

Silence and tension slowly worked their icy cold fingers into the room. Nobody quite knew what they wanted to say. Pogo and Twiggy were the only two that knew what was going on, and everyone else anxiously awaited their response to the small little rustles in the closet.

"Well, Pogo?" Abi demanded, finally breaking the silence. "Are you going to tell me what that was, or am I going to have to find out for myself?"

The keyboardist looked at Abi, startled and wide-eyed, and cried, "Man your battle stations!"

Everyone was too shocked by this statement to do anything when both of the men in question dived at the closet. Once they arrived, Pogo glanced around, then overturned a table and dragged in front of them. All that could be seen from behind it was the eyes and messy hair of both men as they peeked out from behind their makeshift barrier.

"You know, you guys are going to have to come out sometime," Abi said as she looked around the room. "Eventually you'll have to piss or get some food. And I don't have anything better to do, so I think I'll just take a seat right here and wait for you." She brushed a pile of torn up pieces of paper off of a chair, pulled it over, and sat down. She crossed her arms and stared directly at the two men.

"You're still a human. You'll have to piss and eat, too," Pogo said pointedly, his voice somewhat muffled by the table.

"I'm a woman, Pogo. Women can do anything they set their mind to."

They keyboardist narrowed his eyes skeptically, but he didn't question her. Just like most men, he was completely mystified by the female gender. He was unable to tell if she truly meant her words or if she was just bluffing. Instead of thinking about it, he took her words as truth and slithered down behind the table.

"You'll find out what's in the closet in due time. You can all leave now," he finally said. His hand appeared above the table, waving everyone away dismissively.

"Well, if that's the case, then I think I'll just wait here until that time comes," Abi said, her smirk evident even in her voice. The keyboardist reappeared above the table, glaring at her.

"This is my room, Abigail, and I suggest you leave. Lest you want an unpleasant surprise waiting for you in your room tonight."

"There are a few things wrong with your statement, Pogo-"

"I don't care."

"First, it's not a surprise if you tell me when this so-called 'surprise' is taking place. And second, it would mean you'd have to leave this room, at which point I would find out what's in the closet," she pointed out. For a tension-filled moments, the two did nothing but glare at each other expectantly.

"You're all acting like a bunch of kids," Ginger sighed, shaking his head like a disappointed father. "I'm going back to my room. And for the love of god, please don't bother me until you figure out what's in the closet."

"Can I bother you?" John asked, very nearly pouting as he watched his lover push through the throng of men to exit the room. Ginger stopped and turned at the sound of the blonde's voice.

"You can bother me however you like," he responded suggestively. John beamed and took Ginger's outstretched hand.

As if determined to prove Ginger's observation right, both Twiggy and Pogo wrinkled their noses and made their respective noises of disgust. The couple that was leaving the room flipped off the two men, although it didn't cause them to break their kisses.

As soon as that was over, Pogo and Twiggy resumed their staring contest with Abi. Tim and Trent took their leave soon after, followed minutes later by Elizabeth and Iggy. Marilyn and Zim were the only two bystanders left in the whole situation.

The black haired guitarist sighed and plopped down on the floor. Marilyn followed his example.

"I wish I had someone to go off and fuck. Instead I have to sit around here, bored out of my mind," Zim pouted to the man next to him.

"And I wish my fuck wasn't such an idiot sometimes," Marilyn agreed. Both men silently observed the beloved dreadlocked bassist as he conversed quietly with Pogo behind the table. They looked quite intent on something, then suddenly Pogo shook his head in frustration and returned his gaze to Abigail.

"Well, you know..." Zim trailed off, raising one eyebrow at Marilyn. The singer mirrored the expression, only his was out of confusion. "While they're busy, we could always-"

"I appreciate the offer, Zim, but I'm going to have to turn it down," Marilyn said, patting the guitarist on the shoulder.

"It was worth a shot," he shrugged.

"Speaking of shots, what do you say about finding something to drink?" the singer offered. Zim immediately perked up.

"I say that sounds like a damn fine idea."

Pogo and Twiggy watched the last two men exit the room from their rather uncomfortable hiding place. They didn't announce where they were going to everyone else, but it was generally assumed that the two men were going to find some unproductive method of releasing their exasperation. Abi, however, never let her gaze stray.

Twiggy tugged on Pogo's shirtsleeve gently. "Pogs?"

"What?" the other man hissed, glancing down at Twiggy. Pogo was surprised to find him sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking rather dejected.

"I have to go to the bathroom."

Pogo slipped back behind the table, his piercing gaze searching the bassist's lost brown eyes. "Christ, Twiggy, don't you think this is a bad time?"

"I just-"

"You just should have gone before we got here, that's what you just should have done," Pogo snapped back with a bit too much force. Twiggy visibly flinched, but kept his lost eyes on the other man.

"I didn't know we were going to be defending the closet, Pogo. I'm sorry for thinking that the smoke coming from your room was more important than taking a piss," Twiggy hissed, surprising Pogo with the force of his voice.

"Okay, fair enough. But I told you to be prepared at all times, and I can't help that you weren't."

"Not all of us are like you, Pogo."

"And that's a damn shame, isn't it?" the keyboardist snickered rhetorically.

"Pogo, I seriously have to piss!" Twiggy said, his voice slowly filling with urgency. There was nothing in his voice to hint that he was lying. Pogo sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose for a moment before looking around the room. Then, he crawled to the edge of their makeshift barrier, rummaged around in a pile of questionable clothing, and somehow produced an empty plastic bottle from within it.

"You can use this," he said, holding out to Twiggy with a smile.

"Pogo, I..."

"Twiggy, I've seen your dick before. Just fucking go. I won't look, I promise," Pogo negotiated. Still, the man before him looked at the bottle desperately.

"It's just... Pogs, I really have to go."

"Oh, goddamn it! Fine!" Pogo popped his head up over the table and shot his best, false, malice-coated smile at Abi and said, "Twiggy is going to use the bathroom, but that doesn't mean we're forfeiting."

"Thanks, Pogo!" Twiggy said with a smile as he scurried out of the room quickly. Pogo briefly wondered, for the second time that morning, if this is what Abi felt like every day.

"I knew this was going to be easy, but this is better than I thought," Abi mused to herself while still staring at Pogo.

The keyboardist narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by that, Abigail?"

"What do I mean? Pogo, look at yourself. One of your men has already succumbed to the forces of nature, and we haven't even broken our first hour!" she said with a humorless laugh.

"Just because he's taking a piss now doesn't mean we'll be leaving the room every fifteen minutes to go about our business," he retorted. "And quit fucking staring, would you? It's weird."

With that, he slipped back behind the table as Abi gave a short, humorless laugh. Pogo cursed the bassist and his unnervingly childlike behaviors. If that was anyone else, the chances of them being allowed out of the room were slim to none. He sighed and found a rather interesting spot on the wall to stare at until the bassist returned.

__________

Twiggy had finished relieving himself in the bathroom and was washing his hands when, suddenly, a hand clamped over his mouth. Before he could protest, he was being dragged from the bathroom by an unknown culprit. The person had wrapped their arm around his chest and pressed his arms to his body, so he was unable to thrash his arms around.

Wide eyed and terrified, Twiggy watched as the doors flew by down the hallway without being able to do a thing about it. Panic rose in his body. He was being kidnapped by someone inside of the hospital he lived in, and who knows what that person's intentions were. Yet the thought of what Pogo was going to do to him when he finally returned was almost more terrifying than that of being kidnapped.

After what felt like hours of torture, a door was opened. Twiggy was thrown inside of it, and within seconds the door was slammed shut and locked by whoever had taken the bassist. Immediately, everything was filled with darkness.

__________

Pogo sighed heavily and checked the clock yet again. Twenty minutes. It had been twenty minutes since the bassist left, and he was yet to return. It almost killed Pogo inside to know that Abi was going to be feeling more and more smug with each second that passed.

"Well, Pogo. It looks like you've been deserted," Abi said as she adjusted herself on the chair.

"Deserted... ha! He's probably bringing us some food," Pogo said, trying to sound confident, although he wasn't feeling very confident in his words.

"Pogo, you can't honestly expect him to think of that. You told him to piss, and that's what he's done. Maybe he realized how futile this whole thing is."

"Futile?" Pogo peeked his head over the table at her. "And just what to you mean by that?"

"Well, maybe he's just gotten tired of you and your games and decided that he's got something better to do," Abi shrugged. "It's just a thought."

"No, no. Twiggy, he quite enjoys spending time with me. I'm sure he's probably just been... intercepted."

"Intercepted? You mean, he's found something better to do?" Abi asked, smiling politely despite the tone of her voice.

"No, I mean..." Pogo trailed off and sighed. Abi was probably right. Twiggy had probably decided to go find Marilyn and do something more productive with his time. Defeated, he plopped back down behind the table. Finally, he muttered, "I don't need him anyway."

"Is that the sound of sweet defeat I hear?"

"No, I said he'll be back eventually," Pogo said, more loudly this time.

Abi laughed. "Whatever you say, Pogo."

__________

"Trent, what the fuck is wrong with you?!" Twiggy demanded. The singer had turned on a lamp in the far corner of the room.

"Shhh! Keep it down, would you? I don't want to have to use force on you, Twiggs," he said as he held up a scarf menacingly. Twiggy crossed his arms around his chest and pouted. He had picked himself up off the floor and decided that one of the armchairs in the room would be much more comfortable.

"Pogo and Marilyn are going to kill you when they find out about this," he said defiantly, although his voice was much softer now.

"I'm hoping they don't find out about this," Trent said.

Twiggy narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"All I'm asking is that you listen to me for a few minutes, Twiggy. That's all I want," Trent said. He sat down on the bed across from the bassist and looked at him intently. Twiggy scrutinized the man before him.

"Well, shit, Trent. If you just wanted to talk, you could have asked me rather than kidnap me while I was in the bathroom. And while I'm defending the closet with Pogo, too," the dreadlocked man ranted, sounding very much like a small child.

"Look, I know this is bad, but I want your full, undivided attention, and this was the only way I could think to get it," Trent sighed. No matter how harsh it seemed, he was right in thinking that he wouldn't have Twiggy's attention any other way.

"Okay, fine. What do you want? You have ten minutes to explain yourself, and we'll see what happens from there. Go."

"Twiggy, I have a problem," Trent declared as he stood up. Pacing seemed to help him explain himself. "There's something I want. No, something I need. I'm tired of silently pining away for this one, single thing. In fact, it's exhausting. Have you ever wanted something so badly that it infects and corrodes your entire being, Twiggy?"

Twiggy looked at the man carefully, thinking of the time when he hadn't been so lucky to possess Marilyn. "Well, yeah."

"So you know how terrible this feels then, don't you?"

"Mhm."

"Well, Twiggy. I'm asking you to help me acquire this one, single thing that I need." Trent finished his speech and sat back down.

"Well, what is it that you need, Trent?" the bassist asked him.

"Abigail."

"But... but, you already have Tim," Twiggy pointed out quietly.

"No, Twiggy, I don't have Tim. That's what he likes to think, but it isn't true. In reality, I feel like nothing more than a friend to him. And he's a friend that I don't even really like," Trent admitted.

"I'm not going to help you cheat on Tim. You have to understand... he loves you, Trent, and you chose to enter a relationship with him. I'm not going to help you destroy that. That's cheating," Twiggy pointed out. He was shocked by the singer's confession.

"But Twiggy-" Trent jumped off of the bed and kneeled down, pleadingly, before Twiggy. The other man eyed him with what appeared to be disgust. "Twiggy, it's tearing me apart. I need her!"

"No, Trent. This is your problem, not mine." The bassist pushed Trent to the side and stood up slowly.

"Twiggy, please! I'm begging you," Trent grabbed the other man's arm and looked at him pleadingly. "As a friend. Please, help me."

The bassist looked at Trent sadly, but his voice was firm. "Absolutely not, Trent. I need to go back to Pogo now. Sort this out for yourself."

Suddenly, Trent's grip tightened and a fire blazed in his eyes. "You haven't even let me explain my plan yet."

__________

It was a full hour and a half before Twiggy returned, stumbling, to Pogo's room. The two people, half-asleep and bored out of their mind, immediately perked up at the sound of the door opening.

"Well, would you look at that. The son of a bitch decided to come back after all," Pogo smirked. "Christ, Twiggy, did you drink the whole damn Niagara Falls?"

"Pogo, I need to talk to you," he said seriously as he slid behind the table. The keyboardist tried to read the other man's expression.

"What is it? Are you okay?" he asked, slightly concerned. It wasn't every day that Twiggy seriously demanded to talk to him.

"Trent... Trent kidnapped me while I was in the bathroom."

"W-what? Twiggy, that doesn't make any sense," Pogo murmured. The bassist wasn't fazed by the other man's unbelieving tone.

"I was washing my hands, and he fucking came and dragged me into this random room, and he wanted me to help him..."

"Help him with what?"

"He-" Twiggy leaned in so he could whisper in Pogo's ear without Abi hearing. "He wants Abi, Pogo. Like wants her."

Pogo made a disgusted face and pulled back to look at Twiggy. There was nothing to hint that he was lying. "What?! Ugh, seriously? Fucking gross, man!"

"I know, right?! And he kidnapped me because he thought I would help him nail her," Twiggy said, shuddering at the memory.

"Doesn't he have Tim?"

"That's what I said! But I guess he doesn't even like Tim, and he just wants Abi," Twiggy shrugged.

"What's going on, you guys? I keep hearing my name," Abi called, still seated in her chair.

"Do you think we should tell her?" Twiggy hissed urgently.

Pogo popped his head up and answered for the both of them: "Eavesdropping is rude, Abigail. Especially when we're discussing our strategy on how to destroy you."

"Oh, excuse me for being so rude," she said dramatically, pressing her hand to her chest.

"You're excused." With that, Pogo disappeared behind the table again.

"We've got to tell her sometime," Twiggy pointed out. He peeked at the girl, who was examining a loose string on her shirt.

"Just give me a second, Twiggs. I'll come up with something."