He leaned his head against the doorframe and sighed. He knew he shouldn't have come here but what choice did he have? This hellhole drew him here no matter how hard he tried to get away. The screaming babies, the dirty kids, the crumbling walls, and filthy carpets kept calling to him and beckoning him back just when he thought he'd gotten away.

Sully reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled cigarette pack. He looked inside and noticed only one was left. Just his luck. He slipped the end into his mouth and tossed the empty carton on the ground-it mixed in with the rest of the trash beneath his feet. His hands fumbled in his pockets for a lighter and moments later they came out empty-handed. Before giving up, he reached into his shirt pocket and felt inside there. One match book was what he found.

"Fuck me good," he muttered as he heard a siren in the distance.

He lit the cigarette in his mouth and pushed himself off the doorframe. The sirens he'd heard in the distance were now closer. The wail rose in the still night air and Sully unconsciously looked up to see if it was headed his way. He could just make out the glare of red lights down the street when they suddenly stopped. He listened for a moment and he heard the long line of curses streaming and a door being slammed shut. It looked like there was trouble at the old McNally place again. No one even came to their doors or windows as Old McNally's door was busted in again and the cops dragged him out kicking and screaming. Sully watched for a second as the old, drunken man he'd known since he was a child was pushed into the back of a cop car. His wife had probably called the cops again when he'd come home drunk, Sully supposed.

He took the cigarette out of his mouth and threw it to the ground. The tiny spark lit up against the garbage on the ground before he stomped on it with his boot. It always felt good to crush something-even if it was just a cigarette butt. It made him feel in control of at least something in his life. His hands ran through his hair as he looked up at the building he'd been standing in front of. There was one light on in the third floor window and that was exactly where he wanted to go. He ran his fingers over the rusty lock on the front door and to the knob. It was time to get this over with.

He heard them before they heard him.

"You stupid son of a bitch! Get the hell out of my house if you don't like it!"

A door slammed shut from above him and Sully stopped on his way up the stairs. He looked up and saw the fat red face of his uncle staring down at him. His eyes lowered and he fiddled with a button on his shirt as his uncle turned back to the door and pounded on it. "Salvatore is here!" He blasted on the door again. "Your nephew is here so open the door ya fat cow!"

The door opened and a thin, wrinkled face appeared in the opening. Dark brown eyes peered down the stairway and caught sight of Sully standing there.

"Salvatore!" The door opened more and a small elderly woman held her arms out. "Come in, come in!"

Sully hesitated at the top step before walking over to the door and the woman. She wrapped her arms around his body and squeezed tight before pulling him inside. His uncle followed behind-face less red, but still definitely not pale.

"Oh, it's been so long. You don't wanna visit us anymore now that you're a big band man, huh?" his aunt teased as she pushed him toward the couch in the corner. She smiled at him. "I don't blame you. Get out while you still can. That's what I always said, but did your uncle ever listen to me? Of course he didn't."

His uncle threw a murderous glare at her.

"Well, if you got the money to move out then by all means, go on." He took a seat next to Sully and patted his back. "How's your mother?"

"She's fine." Sully leaned back and sighed. He'd have another half hour of this torture before he could get up and leave. It was going to be hell, that was for sure.

Forty-five minutes later, Sully was trying to gracefully slide out the door while his aunt kept prodding him for more information on his band. His fingers curled into the belt loops of his jeans and he propped his head on the open door as he slipped first one foot then the other out.

"It's getting late," he commented, "And I'm sure you guys wanna go to bed…"

"Just like young people," his uncle said and shook his head, "Always trying to get away quickly. Always making excuses, too. Just say that you want to leave-it's much friendlier!"

Sully bit back a grin.

"Salvatore dear," his aunt ushered him back into the small apartment, "You gotta stay and tell us more about your little band first! Now, tell me…" She grabbed his arm and prodded him back onto the couch. "You're not having unprotected…SEX with all those young girls are you?"

"Carla!"

"What? It's a good question!" his aunt defended herself, "There's all those nasty diseases going around now, you know. Why, Jean down the street was just telling me the other day that her youngest girl got something from the boy she was dating-you know, the one with the motorcycle? Well, she found out that he was having sex with that…God save us-HUSSY that works at the market and he caught something from her and passed it to Melissa. It was just terrible. And she had his baby last year and everything." She turned and looked at her nephew. "Well, are you?"

"No Aunt Carla," Sully answered, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "I'm not."

"Good." She nodded in satisfaction. "The only thing worse than that would be if you were in a band with…" she lowered her voice and added snottily, "queers!"

Sully resisted the urge to roll his eyes at that last comment. It was just like his Catholic relatives to bring up that subject yet again. It was the one thing that everyone in his family agreed on-all queers should burn in hell for all eternity.

That is, everyone in his family but Sully himself.

He'd never told anyone that he was homosexual, a queer, a fag. He wasn't stupid after all. It wasn't their business anyway. What he did in his own life was his business only. He'd gone this long without telling them, so what difference did it make now?

He stood up and looked out the dirty front window. His eyes caught sight of a small figure-probably a teenage boy-walking down the street. Two shadows jumped out and grabbed him by the arms. They dragged him down an alley across the street and Sully sighed. Just another fun Saturday night in his town. Thank god he'd gotten out of this crappy neighborhood. He'd have been killed years ago if he hadn't.

"I gotta get going," Sully mumbled as a small car parked in front of the building. He nodded as he saw one of his bandmates step out of the passenger side. "My ride's here now."

He glided to the open door and stepped through. He glanced at his aunt and uncle once more and nodded his head in a goodbye gesture before almost running down the stairs to the street below.

"Tell your mother to call me!" his aunt yelled after him.

"Just in time huh?" Tommy asked as Sully slid into the backseat.

"You have no idea," Sully muttered. He leaned his head against the backseat as the car drove off. "Got a smoke?"

A pack was passed back to him and he slid one cigarette into his mouth and fumbled for the matchbook in his pocket. He took a long drag before sitting up and looking out the window. He watched as the tenements turned to storefronts and then to open fields. The garbage filled streets turned to empty roads and finally into an even emptier highway.

Tony looked into the rearview mirror and raised an eyebrow. "Drinks anyone?"

"Damn straight," Tommy told him. He grinned over at Sully. "How bout it?"

"You up for it man?" Robbie asked from the seat next to him.

"Fuck yeah," Sully muttered, "That and a good fuck."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Robbie laughed.

Sully threw his cigarette out the window and sighed. Until next month, oh crappy neighborhood, he thought to himself as the rest of the guys started looking for an open bar.