Published: April 12, 2020

Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Titans, and lyrics will always be credited to the original artist.

A/N (added April 27, 2020): This story was originally rated as M. I have since changed it to T and made small edits to reflect the new rating (mostly toning down the language). There will be some mention of adult themes (sex, alcohol, etc.) and mild swearing. Warnings will be posted at the beginning of individual chapters if deemed necessary.

Chapter One: Titans, Let's Rock!

BEEP... BEEP... BEEP...

A hand emerged from beneath the covers and clumsily whacked the alarm clock for the fifth time that morning. The figure rolled over and huddled into the fetal position, pulling the fuzzy green blankets closer to itself.

"5 more minutes...," a sleepy voice muttered to no one.

All was quiet until a man brandishing a large wooden spoon and pan burst into the room.

"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!" he hollered, clanging the spoon against the bottom of the pan.

The muffled voice replied from under the sheets, "I don't eat eggs or bakey."

"I don't care, Gar. Your alarm's been going off for the last half hour, and it's driving me crazy."

"Ugh, what time is it?"

A blonde head of hair with neon green tips poked out. Gar blearily sat up in bed and rubbed his tired eyes open. He reached over to the alarm clock on his bedside table and peered at the glowing numbers, only to discover he was 20 minutes late for work.

"Aaaah, SHIT!" Gar cried, jumping out of bed. "Vic! I thought I asked you to wake me up today!"

"What does it look like I'm doing, grass stain?" Victor spread out his arms with a nonplussed expression on his face.

Gar rushed around his room like a tornado, picking up a pair of black jeans, a white button-up shirt and a pair of ratty socks. He threw on the clothes and dashed past his roommate into the hallway.

"I'm late, dude, LATE! My manager is going to kill me."

Victor calmly followed him into the kitchen. "Bro, you need to chill out. Don't you usually start in the afternoon?"

Gar shoved a piece of stale bread into his mouth and reached into the fridge. He then poured himself a generous glass of oat milk and chugged it, washing down the last crumbs of his rushed breakfast.

"Not today. I changed shifts so that I could make it to Wolfie's in time for soundcheck."

"Right," replied Victor, setting down the pan and spoon onto the kitchen counter. He lowered his eyes, deep in thought.

Gar shot an incredulous look in Victor's direction.

"Don't tell me you forgot we have a gig tonight."

Victor raised his eyes guiltily, meeting Gar's burning gaze.

"Sorry, bud. I honestly thought it was next Friday. I made plans with my girlfriend tonight."

"Dude! Not cool," Gar replied with a huff, "this is the first time in 2 months we've booked a show. I can't believe you. Why do I feel like I'm the only one taking this seriously anymore?" Gar exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Gar, I'm sorry," Victor apologized, "It's my fault for not writing it down. I'll make sure to be there next time."

"Next time?" Gar scoffed and shook his head in disbelief, "And how exactly are things supposed to go without a drummer? You know Kory can't keep time to save her life. Not to mention the fact that our music will sound hella stupid without any percussion."

Victor sighed deeply in defeat. "Okay, okay, I didn't really think that through. Look, I'll call her and ask if it's okay to postpone our date."

"You are totally whipped, Vic." Gar said, his annoyance melting into a smile.

"Shut up, at least I'm getting some." Victor bantered back with a grin, sensing that the previous tension was broken.

"Why don't you just bring her to the show? Most girls would kill for a rock star boyfriend."

Victor chuckled. "I don't think we count as 'rock stars', considering the biggest venue we've ever played is Peterson Square Park. Anyways, she's not the biggest fan of loud, dark places."

Gar rolled his eyes as he moved towards the front door of their shabby 2-bedroom apartment, pulling on a pair of beat-up Converse. "Listen, I gotta go. I'm late enough as it is. But just know that if you're not at the pub by 6:00 pm, we're having tofu eggs for breakfast tomorrow."

"Not gonna happen!" Victor exclaimed. "I'd sooner eat your nasty-ass shoes than put that white stuff in my mouth."

"That's what she said," Gar retorted, winking back at Victor as he crossed the threshold of their front door.

Victor groaned at the lame joke.

"By the way, I'm taking the car today, seeing as it's your fault I'm late this morning."

"THE HELL YOU AREN'T!" Victor cried with a panic. "Don't go blaming me for your tardiness when you're the one who can't get your lazy ass outta bed!"

Gar grinned wickedly, pulling a set of car keys out of his back pocket and jangled them in the air.

"See you at 6!" Gar scampered off, closing the door behind him with a bang.

Victor gaped at the front door with wide eyes. "That little punk."

With a sigh, he pulled out his phone and navigated the screen to go to his favourite contacts. A female voice answered with a cheerful good morning.

"Hey babe, about tonight..."

All things considered, work went fairly well. After apologizing profusely to his manager, Gar's morning consisted of setting tables, wiping down the glass of the display case, and wrapping set after set of cutlery in fabric napkins. He spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon manning the cash register at the front counter.

As far as minimum wage jobs went, Gar couldn't complain about his stint at La Maison Verte. For one thing, the quaint little bistro specialized in vegan dishes. Secondly, it was closely located to the main campus of Jump Community College, so the restaurant usually had a steady stream of students coming in and out to either pick up a quick snack or sit down for a meal. Thirdly, many of these students were cute young women, who either followed a vegan diet like him or at the very least, didn't mind it. In Gar's eyes, this was the perfect environment to flex his flirting muscles.

The bell above the door chimed, indicating that a patron entered the restaurant. A pretty blonde woman walked in, and made a beeline for the front counter.

"Afternoon, Mr. Logan," she said with a smile.

"Sarah-bo-bear-ah," he answered, shaking his head, "why the formalities? I feel like I'm being called into the principal's office."

Sarah grinned back. "My bad. Vic told me to call you that."

"Oh yeah? And what else did he say?" Gar asked, rolling his eyes.

"That he needs the car back. How else is he going to get his drum kit over to Wolfman's tonight?" she replied, the warm smile never leaving her face.

Gar rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Fair enough," he said, reaching for the keys in his pocket and placing them on the counter. "Want something from the dessert shelf? Our apple turnovers are killer. They're made with olive-oil based margarine instead of butter! I'm sure I can sneak you one for free."

"That's alright, thanks Gar," Sarah replied. "I'm on my lunch break now anyway. I was just stopping by to get the keys and deliver a top secret message from Vic."

"Top secret, eh?" Gar replied with a cocked eyebrow and toothy grin.

"Yeah, he told me to tell you, 'Version 2.0. Acoustic. One night only.'"

The smile fell from his face and turned into a frown. With a flat voice he muttered, "That's a low blow."

"Sorry, Gar," Sarah answered apologetically, "He said that if you reacted that way, I was to remind you that you owe him."

Gar breathed a heavy sigh. How could he say no?

"Alright, he wins. You can tell him I'll meet him there. I need to pass by home first."

"Thanks, Gar. Whatever it is, I appreciate it. Vic sounded really pushy over the phone."

Gar shrugged and shook his head. "Nah, it's cool. So we'll see you later tonight?"

"Of course! It'll be fun. See you then!" Sarah waved goodbye and walked out the door.

The bell chimed again as the door closed shut. Gar closed his eyes and covered his face with one hand. He groaned internally and wished that he had never insisted that Victor come to the show in the first place. He sighed to himself once more and looked up at the ceiling. His eyes glazed with wetness and he blinked rapidly to prevent tears from escaping.

"Shit."

Gar walked down the busy streets of downtown, whistling to himself. He held a soft guitar case in one hand and a hard case in the other. He did his best not to hit any of the passersby on the sidewalk, exclaiming "Watch out!" and "Passing through!" from time to time. He had changed into ripped jeans and a graphic-tee that read "Kawaii in the streets, hentai in the sheets". Over his shirt, he wore his favourite white racer jacket that was lined with bold red stripes along the sides, cuff and collar.

Reaching a storefront named "Wolfman's Public House", he turned the corner into a familiar alleyway and banged the side door of the establishment open with his foot. The door creaked as it swung inward and he strutted inside, careful not to hit either guitar case on the doorposts. Gar walked into a small, dimly lit room. In the center of the room was a low coffee table covered in posters, Sharpies, and water bottles. The far wall and adjacent side were lined with a long L-shaped leather couch.

A tanned, slender woman sat cross-legged in front of the coffee table. Her flaming, waist-length hair was tied in a half-up, half-down style with a bright purple scrunchie. She wore a lacy lilac crop top and matching high-waisted corduroy shorts. She held a stack of posters in her left hand and a silver Sharpie in the right. She signed each with gusto, flinging the finished posters onto the coffee table with a flick of her fingers.

Behind her sat a brooding young man. He perched on the edge of the couch, crouching over to rest his hands on the woman's shoulders and giving her a tender massage. He wore acid-wash jeans, a white crew shirt and a black leather jacket. His eyes were covered with a pair of classic Ray-Bans, and his dark hair was slicked back in gel.

Both figures looked up from their work, recognizing that another person had entered the room.

"Garfield!" The woman cried, jumping out of her seat on the floor. She rushed over to give him a bear-hug.

"Kor-on-the-cob, good to see you," Gar replied happily, pulling away from the hug to glance in the man's direction and give him a wave. "It's been 84 years since I saw you two."

"84 years?" Kory asked quizzically, "Richard, is that true? Surely it has not been that long since we convened with our dear friend."

"Gar's just being cheeky, babe." Dick got up from the couch and walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder. Through his glasses, Gar could tell that Dick was rolling his eyes. "Good to see you, man."

"Good to see you too," Gar replied. "It sure feels like 84 years. I'm telling you dude, I'm starting to lose my callouses from lack of playing!" He stuck out his left hand in front of Dick's face and wiggled his fingers emphatically.

Dick let go of Kory and reached out to swat away Gar's intruding hand. "As if," Dick answered gruffly, "you would never let yourself get that rusty."

"True, true. Vic here yet?"

"Yeah, he's setting up his kit out front right now."

"Great, I'll go join him. He asked me to bring my acoustic guitar too, so now I have to set up my dual-stand."

Gar moved past the couple, walking around the poster-covered table.

"Damn, Kory! You sure have been busy."

"Oh yes! You must not forget to add your autograph, Garfield. They would be incomplete without it."

Gar gave her a look of disbelief. "Do people even want those?"

"We need to get our name out there somehow," replied Dick. "And if I remember correctly, weren't you the one that blew the Battle of the Bands prize money on 10,000 of these suckers?" Dick reached over, crumpled a poster in his hands, and whipped the ball of paper towards Gar, hitting him smack in the face. Gar just chuckled and hoisted up his two guitars.

"I'll be back," he said in a terrible Arnold Schwarznegger impression and walked through a curtain covering the stage entrance.

Gar's eyes adjusted from the darkness of the backroom to the brightly lit stage. A staff worker organized wires on the side, while another set up microphone stands near the front. Gar saw Victor fiddle with his drum kit on a platform behind center stage. He wore a simple outfit of jeans and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled half-way up his forearms. A white towel hung around his shoulders. He sat on a drum stool that was dwarfed in comparison to his towering figure. He stretched his arms above his head and rolled his shoulders back and forth. One arm was big and beefy, and it stretched the fabric that encased it whenever it moved. The other arm was equally large, but glinted with a silver chrome instead of a milk chocolate brown.

Gar walked up to where Victor sat and gave him a curt salute.

"Mr. Stone."

Victor looked up and replied, "So you got my message."

Gar put his hands in his pockets and raised his shoulders in a shrug. "It's kind of messed up, using your girl as the bearer of bad news. You know I'm too soft to shoot the messenger."

Victor answered back, "I wasn't aware it was such 'bad news', Gar. It's an excellent song, and it would be a waste not to perform it."

"It's not that simple. You know how much it means to me."

Victor stood up, grabbed the towel off of his shoulders and set it down on his stool. He gently placed his prosthetic hand on Gar's shoulder.

"I'm sorry man, I didn't realize."

Gar looked up to meet the taller man's gaze and said, "You've been apologizing to me a lot recently." Gar was hurt, but he tried not to let it show as he stared straight into Victor's eyes.

Victor let go of his shoulder and raised his hand to rub his shaved head.

"Well, I'll keep saying sorry until you accept my apology. You're my best friend, Gar. You know I would never try to hurt you on purpose," Victor said. "It's just... you know... this is the first time Sarah is watching us perform since we started dating. I wanted to make it special."

Gar's hard stare softened at Victor's explanation.

"I get it, dude. I'll let it go... eventually. As long as it's clear that you're the one that owes me," Gar jabbed his finger into his buddy's muscled chest, giving him a small smile. "Anyways, it's about time we get this soundcheck going. You mind grabbing Kory and Dick?"

Victor's tensed face relaxed into a look of relief. He wrapped his arm around Gar's chest and brought him in close to give him a noogie. "Thanks, green bean. To make it up to you, I promise that I won't hide your tofu for the next two... no three weeks!" He let Gar out of the headlock. "And Sarah's gonna love it."

"The things I do for you..." Gar muttered under his breath.

As Victor walked towards the back room, he heard a sharp snap, which was quickly followed by a stinging sensation on his butt. He yelped and looked over his shoulder to see Gar with a giant smile plastered on his face, holding Victor's towel in one hand.

"Whipped!" Gar shouted, followed by a big belly laugh.

An hour later, the place was packed. Wolfman's Public House, colloquially known as simply "Wolfman's" or "Wolfie's", had the reputation of being one of the oldest and most popular pubs in town. It drew in crowds of middle-aged men and women who had been regulars for decades, as well as younger yuppies who had recently graduated from the community college and by default, its campus bar. The old guard appreciated the capable waitstaff while the younger generation enjoyed the reasonable prices. Everyone loved the live music.

Without fail, Wolfie's had local musicians come and perform every day of the year, including holidays. However, Friday nights were reserved for the cream of the crop, since it was the only time that the pub offered Happy Hour to celebrate the end of the work week. Musicians of all genres came to play, but the majority were of the pop and alternative rock variety.

Small tables were set up about 12 feet away from the stage, leaving a small rectangle of uninhibited space for people to stand or dance if they so desired. People milled about and chatted in their seats, sipping on drinks while they waited anxiously for the show to start. The pub lights dimmed as the stage lights got brighter, bringing everyone's attention to the back of the building.

A non-descript man in his 40's walked out on stage and picked up the microphone from the center stand.

"Good evening, folks! We have a fan-favourite band playing for us tonight. These kids are home-grown Jumpers, and simply put, they rock! So kick back, drink up, and enjoy the show!"

The crowd cheered enthusiastically with whoops and hollers as the man walked off stage. The band entered, taking place at their various instruments. The man wearing sunglasses stood in the middle with a keyboard set up in front of him. On his right stood a man holding a forest green Stratocaster and on his left was a woman holding a bass guitar. At the back was a larger man on a raised platform, sitting behind a drum kit.

"Hey everybody! Before we get into our set, I'd like to introduce the band to those of you who may not know us." Dick spoke into his microphone, and gestured to his left. "Over there is my girl Kory on the bass."

Kory blew him a kiss, and some wolf-whistles rang out from the audience.

"On drums, my buddy Vic," continued Dick, pointing behind him.

Victor replied with a cute little drum roll that gained a couple of laughs and cheers.

"To my right, Gar on guitar."

Gar, not to be outshone by Victor, answered with his own little guitar solo. Dick rolled his eyes.

"And that dick-I mean stick-in-the-mud is Richard, on lead vocals and keys," exclaimed Gar into his own microphone, pointing back to the band leader.

Dick gave him a mildly annoyed sideways glance, but carried on. "And we are the Titans!"

The crowd cheered even louder than before.

"Tonight, we'll be playing some covers and a few originals. Sing along if you know the words," Dick said to the audience. He looked left, right and finally, back to Victor. He spoke into the microphone, "Titans, let's rock!" With a quick 4-count from Victor's drumsticks, the band began to play.

Here we go again / I kinda wanna be more than friends

So take it easy on me / I'm afraid you're never satisfied

Here we go again / We're sick like animals, we play pretend

You're just a cannibal / And I'm afraid I won't get out alive

No, I won't sleep tonight

As the band launched into the chorus of their first song, the room crackled with electricity. People tapped their feet on the ground and nodded their heads up and down to the beat. Some of the younger crowd stood up to approach the stage and dance. Looking at the scene, you couldn't tell who was having more fun, the band or the audience.

Oh, oh / I want some more

Oh, oh / What are you waiting for

Take a bite of my heart tonight

Dick belted out the lyrics while simultaneously playing the keys. Kory grooved on her bass to the side and Victor kept up the tempo on the drums, adding cymbal and hi-hat flourishes here and there. Gar played his heart out, leaning into his microphone to add harmony to Dick's melody. Gar felt like he was on fire. He could smell the people's sweat as they danced to the music, and his ears tickled from the sound of the audience singing along. The band continued through their set, playing more popular covers and sprinkling some originals in between. Gar was in a state of euphoria, feeling as though he'd never come down from the high of performing.

After an hour and a half of playing non-stop, the set came to a close. Dick made eye-contact with Gar and gave him a short nod. Gar nodded back, and placed his Stratocaster on the stand next to him, picking up an acoustic guitar in its place.

"This will be our final song for the night," Dick said, addressing the crowd.

The audience heaved a loud groan all together, clearly not wanting the performance to end.

"I know, I know!" Dick continued, "We had a blast with you too. Our last song is actually an original, one that we've never performed in public before. Our drummer Victor would like to dedicate this song to his lovely girlfriend, who is sitting at that table in the corner over there." He pointed to Sarah, who blushed in surprise. Both her friends and nearby strangers started clapping and gave a big cheer. More wolf-whistles echoed from the crowd.

Dick began to play a slow chord progression on the keys, accompanied by Victor's subtle drum beat in the background. Kory supported them with a simple bassline, but the real star of the song was Gar's skillful acoustic guitar. He plucked away at the strings, producing the romantic melody of a ballad. Dick leaned into his microphone and began to sing:

Golden hair and baby blues / I don't know what I would do

Without her / My girl, Sarah

Rosy cheeks and pearly smile / I would run ten thousand miles

To see her / My girl, Sarah

Sarah stared at the band in complete shock. Her friends clutched at her arms and began to squeal. The rest of the crowd reacted similarly, sighing and "aww-ing" in their seats. People turned on their phone flashlights and began to wave them back and forth. The song closed with the final lyrics:

All my love is yours forever / All I know is that I'm better

With you / My girl, Sarah

The crowd burst into applause and started clapping even louder when Dick motioned for the woman of the hour to come up on stage. Red in the face with both embarrassment and pure emotion, Sarah clambered up the side steps onto the stage.

Dick unhooked his mic from the stand and passed it over to Vic, who came up to the front and held his girlfriend's hand.

"Sarah, I know we haven't been together that long, but everything that was said in the song is true. I really don't know what I would do without you. You bring me so much joy and I would do anything if it meant I could be with you. You inspire me to be a better man every day. Tonight, I'd like to know if you'd be willing to be my inspiration for the rest of our lives."

Victor took out a small, velvet box from his back pocket and went down on one knee. The entire pub gasped collectively.

"Sarah Simms, will you-"

"Absolutely!"

The crowd erupted, cheering louder than they ever did during the entire set. Victor slipped the ring on her finger, stood up and pulled her in for a searing kiss. As the noise dissipated, Victor gave the mic back to Dick and walked off to the side with Sarah.

"Thanks for the support everyone! We hope to perform again for you all very soon. Have a good evening and remember, we are the Titans!" Dick shouted with a giant grin on his face. He followed Victor and Sarah's leave, with Kory and Gar closely behind.

Backstage was a riot. Sarah's friends had joined them and a bartender brought the entire gang a round on the house. After hugging everyone in the room several times each, Kory sobbed tears of joy and whizzed around, unable to stop moving with excitement. Sarah's friends fawned over her while Gar and Dick cornered Victor on the side.

"You sneaky bastard," Gar exclaimed, "why didn't you just tell me you were going to propose tonight? I totally would have understood from the beginning!"

"Because you couldn't keep a secret even if I paid you," Victor laughed, "But you know what this means, eh Dick?"

"What?" Dick asked.

Gar caught on and continued Victor's train of thought, "Kory's going to be riding your ass about a wedding for the next while."

Dick groaned into his hands.

"Dammit, you're right."

Vic and Gar chuckled and patted Dick's back in sympathy.

"You can't be fiancees forever, Dick," Victor said kindly, "You've been together almost 10 years, engaged for 5. Cut the girl a break, will ya?"

"I know, I know. I love her, and she loves me. I just don't see the point in all of the fanfare and legality."

"But Kory loves fanfare and you love her." Gar replied with a half-smile. They had argued this point a million times. Dick only answered back with a sigh.

Instead of continuing the conversation, Dick addressed the whole room, "Come on guys, let's go celebrate outside. If we're lucky, we'll be drinking for free all night!"

Gar couldn't help but linger on the fact that he was a fifth-wheel. The group walked out to the bar, where patrons quickly took notice of them and started ordering celebratory shots. After coming down from the high of their performance, Gar began to feel a little out of place. Kory and Dick were deep in conversation, no doubt discussing their ever postponed wedding plans. Sarah showed off the ring to strangers while Victor received several fist bumps, high-fives and pats on the back.

Gar was relatively comfortable with his single-hood. Every once in a while, he would hook up with girls he met at work for a one, sometimes two-night stand. He didn't mind being romantically alone as long as he had his friends. But now, it looked like they were moving on too. Victor and Sarah's engagement meant a sure thing: sooner or later, Gar would need to find a new roommate. He quickly berated himself for feeling so selfish. He should be happy, dammit! His best friend was getting married to the love of his life, the only woman who had ever fully accepted him. Gar sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day, and stared into the amber reflection of his almost empty beer glass.

Lost in his own thoughts, he barely noticed someone settle into the bar stool next to him.

"Can I buy you a drink?" a low, raspy voice breathed into his ear.

Gar snapped out of it, looking at the mysterious stranger.

Her eyes were a deep blue, almost violet. They reminded him of the eyes of the classic actress, Elizabeth Taylor. Her skin was pale, contrasting with the dark, chin-length hair that framed her heart-shaped face. Her lips were settled in an expressionless pout. Attuning his senses to the woman in front of him, Gar noticed that she smelled incredible, like a mix of lavender, smoke and tea. His eyes were drawn to both her eyes and her mouth, looking up and down before finally settling on her lips. She looked back at him with a deadpan gaze. Gar just sat there, not knowing what to say.

Repeating herself, she asked, "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Uh-um-uh, um, uh..." he blabbed, temporarily lost for words.

The woman took this for a yes, and motioned to the bartender to get him another beer.

"Congratulations to your friends. They must be very happy."

The mention of the others effectively brought Gar out of his trance.

"Yeah, Vic's my best friend. I'm happy that he's happy."

"Really?" she replied, raising an eyebrow. "You don't seem like it."

Gar wasn't expecting to be called out so directly, especially by a stranger. For some reason, he felt compelled to be honest with her.

"Of course I'm happy, but you know... it's tough when people move on, especially when it seems like you're the only one at a standstill."

"I get it. Things change, and change can be hard," she answered. Gar nodded.

After a brief pause, he continued, "I just... I guess I just don't want to be left behind."

They went quiet after that. The bartender came by with Gar's refill and several moments passed. After what felt like both an eternity and only a few seconds, his companion got up from her bar stool to leave. As she stood up, Gar gave her a quick glance over.

The first thing he noticed was how short she was. She looked like she was 5"2, maybe 5"3 at most. She wore a purple silk blouse that was tight against her chest, with just a hint of cleavage showing. It was tucked into a navy pencil skirt that ended just below her knees. She had a blazer draped over one arm and had a small purse slung over the other. He also caught a side glance of her large, plump ass.

It occurred to Gar in this moment that he had been approached by a Grade A babe and had done absolutely nothing to try to pick her up. Feeling like an idiot, he mentally prepared himself to ask her for her number, but decided against it. He had been poor company in the short amount of time that they spent with one another, and he didn't think she would be all that interested. To his surprise, she did the unexpected and gave him a business card.

"You and your friends are really talented. I think you have what it takes to go far. Call me if you're interested." With that, she disappeared into the crowd and left the pub.

Gar was once again dumbstruck. "What the hell just happened?" he thought to himself. He peered down at the card. It was all black, made of a heavy card stock. It was adorned with the silhouette of a bird with outstretched wings on either side, printed in silver foil. He flipped the business card over and read words in the same silver print:

Raven Roth

Nevermore Records, CEO

(XXX) XXX-XXXX

A/N: Wow, I was not expecting this chapter to be 5k words! It's been a long time since I've written creatively, let alone posted to this site. I have to say, it felt great and I really enjoyed myself! If you see any glaring grammatical errors or annoying repetitions, don't hesitate to point them out. The first song is "Animals" by the Neon Trees. "Sarah" is by the Titans (aka me).

My inspiration for this story comes from the Cartoon Network show, as well as the Geoff Johns run of the comics (2003-2011). I recently re-watched the show and read the comics for the first time. My love for BBRae was reignited, and I couldn't help but write about them :-)

Till next time, Lily Timbers