Just for yourself?

Mick sighs deeply and nods to Angel, feeling a bit lost at the moment. He was so upset and disappointed in Dylan... what more could he do? Punishment would drive an even bigger wedge between them, but if that's what it took to straighten him out, was it worth it? At this point, he didn't know. "Yeah... thanks, Angel."

Heading back outside, he's actually a little surprised to see Dylan still standing there as told. Walking around to face his son, Mick stares him down. "Why did you do it, Dylan?" No response. "Trying to get high?" Still no response. "Been long enough now since you were doped up that you'd forgotten how stupid it was so you wanted to try getting hooked again?"

This time Dylan's eyes shoot up in a defiant glare. "You don't know anything."

"Try me." Mick holds his arms out to the side. "Tell me anything you want. I'm all ears."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Prove it. Come on. You've never even really talked to me, Dylan. I want to know what happened to you. Where are you? Where is my son?"

Dylan points towards the office. "Last I saw, he was headed in your direction to rat on me."

Mick's arms fall back to his sides. "I don't know what it is with you... I really don't. But if you want to play these games, then so be it. Welcome to bootcamp. Allow me to show you your first assignment." He gestures to the barn.

"Oh, no." Dylan shakes his head, backing up a step. "I'm not working in the barn. No way. I hate horses and their stink and you know it."

"You gonna talk to me?"

"No."

"Then get moving. Bootcamp starts now." Mick reaches out and gives Dylan a hefty shove, maybe a little too strongly.

If Dylan's feet wouldn't have tangled, he probably would have been okay, but the shove was enough to make him stumble towards the barn, trip and fall. His palm and forearm go sliding on the gravel, receiving immediate scrapes that burned instantly. He winces and picks himself back up slowly, a little bit of blood trickling down his arm. Whirling around, he glares at Mick, anger and hurt showing in his eyes. And for a split second, there was the look of a little boy who had wanted a hug but instead had received a slap.

In that moment, Mick's guard was taken down as in brief instant, he could kick himself. But while his guard was down, Dylan lunges.

Knocked flat on his back, the wind is knocked out of Mick, his head hitting the hard ground. He and Dylan roll twice until Dylan is on top again, straddling Mick's torso. He grabs a handful of shirt collar and raises his fist, aiming it at Mick's face.

Mick is trying to catch his breath and knows he could throw Dylan off and gain the upper hand again, but he doesn't. "Go ahead," he relents hoarsely. "I know you want to. Go ahead and sock your father in the face for being such an ogre."

Dylan hesitates, his fist still raised.

"Do it!" Mick barks.

Dylan grits his teeth as he curses his father.

"Words," Mick scoffs. "Come on and hit me!" He reaches up to grab Dylan's own collar, giving him a jolt. "Do it!"

But being ordered to hit his father directly with no resistance made Dylan's stomach churn in an odd way. Here was his chance to prove he was big stuff. But with the order to hit, the thrill just wasn't the same. Slowly he loosens his grip and lowers his arm, his face still scowling. Standing up, he steps back and checks his own scraped arm while it burned.

Mick just lies still for a moment, to weak from relief to even get up. Had he lost his mind? Maybe, but at least it had worked. And at least he knew now that Dylan really didn't want to beat him to a pulp. Maybe on the surface, but not deep down, and that was enough to give Mick the slightest hope. Finally he rolls over and stands up too, picking his hat up and slapping it back on his head. "Now, if you're quite finished," he growls, "we were on our way to the barn."

"I need to take care of my arm."

"You're fine."

"But it's-"

"A flesh wound!" Mick hauls off and gives Dylan a swift kick to his bottom, sending him towards the barn. "Now move! There are stalls waiting."


Jade had just been exiting the dining hall when the whole fiasco outside had happened. She had no idea how it had started, but her heart was ripped in two as she saw her brother and father wrestling for dominance. She wanted to go help her father, but she knew he could handle himself, and if she interfered, she might make things worse.

Finally seeing them both walking towards the barn, she sinks down on the porch step as a tear rolls down her face. She hurt so badly for her father... she knew he must be hurting more than she could even imagine. At least she was getting along with him, but it still pained her to see the fight between him and Dylan. Would it ever stop? She sniffs as another tear follows down her cheek.


Leo laughs at Cassy's teasing as he enters her apartment. "Well, thank you."

Wandering in, he takes a look around, his eyes sweeping the room and taking it in at a glance. "Mmm... something sure smells good, and it isn't me." Tagging along to the kitchen, his mouth starts to water. "Coffee sounds good," he agrees.

Once settled at the little table, he shakes his head, watching her cook. "There was a chance I might not even come. Do you usually cook like this just for yourself?"


Kyle smiles even though Alice couldn't see it. Taking her arm that was draped over his shoulder, he rubs it lovingly before kissing the top of her hand. He loved her too. If push came to shove and if she would insist she didn't have to go with them, he might relent, but as it sat, it was the principle of the thing and he wasn't going to go to the most important event he had without her.


Kip perks up as Karla seems to warm up to the idea of managing. "See?" He looks to Erik again. "She can do it and it would be great."

Erik has to admit he likes the idea but still isn't sure. "Kip, I don't know..."

"All she has to do is know our lineup and be able to take calls." Kip pretends he has a phone in his hand. "Hello? No, we won't play at your bar. What? Oh, yes, the band is free on the fifteenth to open for Mercy Me, that would be great."

Kyle can't help a snicker from across the table, thinking about opening for a band like that.

Kip grins. "She could do that easy, then we wouldn't have to keep track of any of that. And she could do the bookkeeping too and let us know when we reach a million dollars and can afford a new bus."

Erik rolls his eyes, but he can't help his smile as he shakes his head. "Alright... I was thinking about that just recently anyway that it would be nice for the lot of us to not have to worry about keeping track of that sort of thing." He looks around to Karla, still smiling. "Looks like you are officially our manager."

"Yes!" Kip throws up his arms. "And coming with us." He swivels around to look at Karla, a smirk on his face. "New clothes? Nooooo problem. Twila!"

Twila laughs and nods. "We'll get you set up, Karla, don't worry about that. And this time you can't say no because it'll come from the band budget, how's that?" Her eyes sparkle with some excitement. She was glad that Karla was becoming a part of this group. She'd wanted to do more with her, but had learned not to push and had backed off from her original enthusiasm. Slowly though, she tried to work on a stronger relationship, glad to have another woman in the midst of the rowdy guys. It was more than obvious that it was Kip who Karla took to, but Twila hoped for a lasting friendship down the road.

Kip grins at Karla, his excitement growing. "See? Told ya you couldn't get rid of us."