After everything that had been going on for the past few months, Lyssandra Eberlee had been sure that nothing could possibly make her life more awkward than it already was. Of course, that was before Tadhg had owled her again. He always did have a habit of messaging her at the worst possible times.

Then again, everything about them had always revolved around bad timing. When she was interested in him, he wasn't interested in her, when he was interested in her, she wasn't interested in him -- and when they did happen to line up their affections, he either got 'too busy' with Quidditch or ended up in some fan's pants. Things had never been ideal for Tadhg and herself.

Now was no exception. She paced in front of the mirror and ruffled her hair once more, trying to get it to look presentable. Damnit, why was it that she cared again?

Probably because he was one of the few people outside of her circle of Healer friends that had gotten close to her for a long period of time. When she heard the knock at the door, she cleared her throat and let out a quiet, "Fuck."

What Jones Dennis was feeling, couldn’t be described in one word. There were quite a few words that could be used to relay his current emotions. Upset. Worried. Tired.. Pissed off.

Yeah, at the moment, he wasn’t all to thrilled with his best friend. But the part he hated the most was that he couldn’t even be that pissed off at him, since he had suffered such a great loss. True, Melinda and Waldo weren’t soulmates, and they hadn’t even been together for that long, but he cared about her. A lot. He cared about her enough to see her more than once, and to tell him about her, so it must have meant something. Jones had been very heartbroken to hear that such a terrible thing had happened to that family, but his mind immediately went to Waldo.

Fuck, he should have gone there when he had thought about it! He knew that his friend would do something stupid, that he didn’t handle these sorts of things well at all, but he didn’t. And then, when he finally did pop over to his place, he was gone. Missing. Not one person seemed to know where he was, not even his band.

And then he missed the show. He missed the damn show, which was something that he had never done. Something was definitely wrong. He had gotten himself into something and-

“Fuck!”

The word was exclaimed as Jones suddenly stood to his feet, hearing the loud Pop of apparition before seeing the broken down rock star standing in his living room.

“God damn it what is-…”

It was then that he really looked at him, his bright blue eyes traveling down to see what he was wearing (or, well…wasn’t), taking in his cuts and bruises.

“…bloody hell, Oz…what the fuck happened to you?”