You whip your tiny blue car into Dylan's drive way. Slamming on the breaks, throwing off your seatbelt, and you stomp up his porch to pound on his door. You haven't been able to reach him all day. Knowing Dylan that isn't a good sign, plus he has baby D. Well his mor does more likely. Who knows where Dylan could be right now?

You're about to start screaming, but the door swings open to reveal Dylan, with baby D on his hip with a rocket pop in hand. Dylan's shirt less, you can see his chest tattoo. Dylan smirks down at you and leans against the doorway.

"Is there any reason you're pounding on my door and yelling like the goddam FBI? The neighbors are gonna call the cops or something."