A/N:  Sup sup everyone. This is the sequel to Brendan The Juvie-et. If you already forgot about it here's a recap: Frank Peterson is dead, Brendan and Dave are somewhat in a relationship now but unofficially. And yeah the rest will be explained.

And holy shit it's really hard to write Aaron's friends for some reason so I'll just do the best I can which might end up making them seem too out of character. I feel like my writing style is not fit for that but whatever lmfao

Once he was one foot back into freedom he made a second quick decision; Everything that happened in juvie, stays the fuck in juvie. That included getting butt fucked, that included giving out blowjobs, that included nearly getting raped and nearly turning said rape into a consented fuck between two dealers, actual rape, and that ALSO included getting fucking butt fucked by fucking Me-Crazy.

Brendan ran a exasperated hand through his curls, tugging them slightly before letting go. He'd jogged all the way to Pelham park without a pause and once he got there the familiarity of it all felt odd; The size of the world seemed to have expanded since being locked up in a twenty by twenty cell for a week long and his brain lagged to adjust to the new space.

Just fifteen minutes ago the officer that let him go gave him a half-assed pat on the back, said "Let's hope our paths don't cross again. Live long." and he was free to go.

Whatever he'd expected would happen after your time was over, Brendan was glad this was what actually happened. No long holds, just getting your ass kicked in front of the door and you're off to continue the lifestyle of a delinquent. And gladly so.

Brendan got all his shit handed to him in a big ziplock bag which included some spare money, his belt, his watch, and his phone which he immediately used to ring up some messages before he landed on Aaron—The real Aaron's—chat.

Since there was only the last message was from before the beat up and it was Aaron asking where he was Brendan had some bad thought dawning up in his mind. Maybe he was dead? Well that wouldn't make too much sense because they didn't prolong Dave's sentence to a lifetime.

Brendan lowered himself on the blue bench nearest to him without taking his eyes off the screen. Shit, it wasn't even like a message would just pop up out of nowhere telling him the same words Aaron Sotoson the total wacko had told him back in juvie: It's okay, Brendan.

But the irrational side of his brain was working in high speed then which quickly lead to another unconventional thing—He began spamming the chat with a shit load of apologies.

Holly shit dude, that day, we didn't mean to. For real.

Like no, this was an accident.

Not tryna make myself look less guilty but I swear to god that was not meant to happen

...Like that

I'm fucking sorry, A.

Dave's sorry too, he's been beating up people in Juvie to take his guilt out there ever since! Fuck.

Meant Me-Crazy, not the other assholes.

Why did you hug that turd?!!!!!!!!!!!

When that was over he blacked out the screen, enclosed the phone in both hands and put his hands pressed between his thighs, then he took in a giant gulp of air—everything in one spastically quick moment.

And then, Brendan just reclined against the bench and gnawed at the inside of his cheek. He didn't have anywhere to attend to, he could literally just chill here till it got dark and nobody would notice.

He could sit here and watch those dumb birds carrying dried grass in their beaks as they flew over to a trash can and contemplated wether they should build their nest their. And their eyes were so round and big and stupid you'd think they'd go right ahead and do it but a cyclist would race by and get their wings flapping wildly until they were out of sight, changed their mind.

But Brendan wasn't that kinda guy who just sat somewhere beholding things, he was a man of action so he quickly made up his mind and started walking, hands buried in his grey sweatpants—Yeah, that's the piece of clothing he got framed in by the police, the other was a long-ass white shirt that went to the middle of his thigh, like some dress.

But he liked to wear those, because when you happened to carry weed around nobody would see the suspicious outline of the ziplock bag in your pants. Just cover it up and go.

Originally he'd planned to get straight to his court, clap some hands of his friends and go to bed sleep it off. But when he put his head into his neck he spotted a girl walking a yard before him, ass wiggling with every step inside her shiny pair of leggings.

Some skank he fucked a while back. He didn't even have to see her face to know it's her; her red weave gave her away, so did her all-black clothes, tight and revealing, and her ass. Yeah, especially her ass.

For a while Brendan just calmly strolled after her, feeling like some kind of secret agent the longer they shared the same path, but the closer they got to the exit the panicky he got. He felt like he needed to prove something to himself, after everything that's happened. He was quite sure yet what exactly it was, but he definitely had to.

This was worse than a nagging boner.

"Yo, Carleigh!" Brendan shouted. "Why don't ya stop for a minute?"

Carleigh swung her head around, cherry-red locks flipping to her back. She came to a stop, propped her arm on her hip and taking the jewellery on her wrist along which shook out tinkly sounds with every movement.

"Daddy B?!" She called with a velvety voice which sounded like a cat's purr. She squinted heavily through her sooty lashes as if the sight was truly unbelievable. "That you?"

Fucking hell what?

Brendan had no idea why Carleigh was calling him daddy. This chick must've gained some kinda daddy issue or something because he sure as hell never heard someone addressing him like that unless he was incidentally fucking their brains out.

He decided to let that slide, after all, it could happen to everyone—He surely remembered accidentally calling his teacher daddy in elementary school!

"What's up, girl. Rushing somewhere?"

Her eyes looked left, then her tongue found its way to the purple lipstick that was generously smeared all over her lips. "Sure was until ya stopped me. What for? Parenting advice?"

Brendan laughed, pretending she had said something witty. "If you're on the pill there won't be a need to."

With that Carleigh's eyebrows nearly jumped out of her forehead. "Oh, you dirty boy! You're asking for a tap of this, ain't you?" She wiggled her butt faintly towards his direction when she said this.

"Well, let's be real, Carleigh. What else would I be asking you for."

"Alrights, why don't we go somewhere nice then?" Her eyes smiled before her lips did because they were pretending to be smug. She held an arm out and Brendan jogged over, hooking himself into it.

He always liked uncomplicated girls, you just had to ask them something and they gave you a straight answer which was either Go to hell fuck you! or a stroll over to their apartment, preferably parent-free, to give you heaven for a few minutes.

Carleigh was that kind of girl, but she always gave you hell, and not the kinky kind. It was just kinda bad like that, you always wanted to pull out quick because it was pure punishment down there. But it would be just enough for him to prove that one thing to himself.

As they walked he could smell her flowery perfume fanning over to her and he felt a sense of carelessness. Maybe being freshly released from prison did that to a person, you were basically back on your feet able to commit another crime or change for the better.

You could do anything you couldn't do in prison, and then there was Brendan falling back to his old ways, with the change of pills instead of weed in his pants and way more money than he ever had stuffed together with them in the black dog-poop bag.

He could probably take over the world now. At least the almighty feel in his chest deluded him to think that. So much money brought so much power after all, right?

Hell yeah!

. . .

When Brendan entered through the gate he got a shock of nostalgia. The three courts were still there like he'd never left them, and yeah it's only a week since he'd last walked and crossed the concrete here but it felt like centuries.

A few yards away two guys sat on the green picknick table, when Brendan entered one of them jumped to his feet and shouted, "Back already, Brendan?"

For some reason Brendan thought they'd ignore him because of what he did, but In the next moment they both crowded around him; Baby Freddie who acknowledged him first and Skinny-Dave who didn't seem to have noticed that Brendan was gone to begin with. He was frowning heavily at Brendan, trying to remember what the deal was.

"You..." He trailed off, gesturing around with his crooked index finger.

Brendan traded a glance with Freddie then looked back at Skinny-Dave and said. "Got locked up for a week. The beat up...? That tell you anything...?"

"Oh yeah!" Skinny-Dave said, jerking his finger into the sky like he was popping a balloon. "Those damn Joey Rosa's, man."

"Nah, not them. It was because of—"

"So, how's it like there? Is there really inmates raping you when you go to pick up a bar of soap?" Baby Freddie lost his patience and cut him off.

Not that Brendan minded, you'd rather strike up a conversation with a demented old man than explaining things to Skinny-Dave who needed a whole recap of it all. From finish to start.

"I wouldn't know," Brendan shrugged, started to fall into a slow walk and was immediately flanked by those monkeys. He really did kinda miss them, they're always a joy to be around. "You should ask Dave that when he gets back."

"No way!"

Brendan chuckled darkly. "Scared he'll throw you against the next glass door? I'm sure you're fine as long as you don't hug me first. Or do some other gay shit in front of him, for that matter."

The right side around Brendan got quiet so he came to a stop and looked around. Baby Freddie stood a few feet behind.

Skinny-Dave voiced his thoughts first. "Since when are you on first name basis with psycho?"

"We always were. It's just mutual now." Brendan said.

"Yeah, no, I meant, why you call him by his name."

This was starting to piss Brendan off. Like what, where they extra paranoid about another one of their friends being gay after what happened to Aaron? They could suck one.

"Me-Crazy is a stupid name." Brendan started to walk again, not bothering if they followed him or not but after a few feet they were back at his heels.

"You didn't seem to bother about that before." Skinny-Dave persisted, scratching the poorly grown moustache thoughtfully.

"Yeah, I'm just slowly getting sick of it you know. Also, I'm blowing him rounds and rounds now so seems only appropriate being on first name's with regulars."

The look on Skinny-Dave's face after he said this was priceless. He dropped out of every expression to give him a full face of disgust. Baby Freddie looked bothered as well but he seemed too distracted with something else to care about this outing, his eyes were squinted and he stared afar.

"Relax, I'm just kidding." Brendan said. Jee-sus the way he couldn't hold in his laughter while they booth continued dwelling in the silence was really awkward. But he still didn't stop laughing until Baby Freddie suddenly chipped his voice in.

"Why did you have to make a joke about the glass-doors?"

Brendan cut him a look. "What, does it make you sad?"

Baby Freddie looked uncomfortable, he kept his eyes on his shoes. "No, but Aaron's still in hospital and you're out here dragging him. Seems kinda fucked up. Did you at least apologise?"

"In fact, I did." Brendan said. "How about you be less of a wuss about it and let me say whatever the fuck I want so long as I keep it shut in front of Aaron?" He paused, then added. "And even when he's here, he never bothered when I said shit about his dad kicking it. Why should this be any different?"

"Sometimes people don't call things out they dislike." Baby Freddie said and somehow this sounded really passive aggressive, like there was more he wanted to say that didn't involve Aaron. But then he switched the topic in account of his discomfort. "A girl locked me down, by the way."

"I was not at all surprised he didn't lock her down." Skinny-Dave threw in from the side, chuckling smokily.

"Shut up, dude. At least I have a girl. You're just a man-slut like Brendan, banging it from north to south and criss-fucking-cross. You try mocking me once your STD's add up into a whole-ass collection."

"Collection? What the fuck you talking about, there's only AIDS. Explain how that'd add into a collection."

"Chlamydia. Genital warts. Herpes. All that, maybe?"

"Oh, come on! Everyone has herpes."

"What's her name?" Brendan asked, breaking their little fight up. He kinda didn't have the nerves after juvie to listen to that bullshit, like for real it could get really annoying how Baby Freddie always got offended and felt the need to pipe in with his voice which sounded awfully close to an old heavy duty train coming to a stop with an oily screech.

"Carleigh Rae."

Jesus Christ. Brendan's eyes widened but Baby Freddie didn't seem to notice and went on. "Its funny how we met. I was taking the L and forgot to take my phone with me so I had no other choice but stare people down, you dig? And this smoking hot girl was supporting herself against one of those poles, she seemed pretty out of it—"

"Sounds like she was just been ultra tired after getting handed around by a few BBC's—"

"Shut up!" Baby Freddie pushed past Brendan, lurching a fist out at Skinny-Dave who lurched a harder fist at Baby Freddie and then they were fighting it out by Brendan's sneakers until Skinny-Dave finally dropped the 'Fine! Chill! She ain't that big of a bitch then! Only a teeny bit! Get off me, dickhead!'-bomb and they sorted themselves back in at either of Brendan's sides, with a bigger distance, patting their shirts clean.

For a while they walked in silence, then Skinny-Dave said he had something better to do and took off. Brendan came to a stop in front of his building, raising his brows at Freddie, his top lips sucking in his other. He was suppressing a big laugh.

"Do you wanna hear the rest of the story, Bren?"

"Later maybe,"

Baby Freddie looked so desperate to tell the rest of the story that Brendan almost gave in out of guilt but he was really tired for some reason and just wanted to claim the couch for a few hours.

"It's doesn't go that much longer,"

"Nah, man. Later. But you maybe want some of that?" Brendan must've felt really sorry for fucking Baby Freddie's girlfriend just an hour ago because he fished out ten of the pills from his back pocket, took Freddie's hand and slapped them on it.

Baby Freddie's jaw fell slack. "Wow, dude. Thanks!" He said. "You got them from juvie? You're dealing that instead now?"

"Purhabs, yeah."

"Skinny-Dave will be pretty bummed. He loves smoking your pot."

"Skinny-Dave can go suck it."