The drive to the hotel they would be staying at that night seemed like the longest Link had ever been on. Actually, it had been. This feeling was not caused by the time he had been driving, but the time he had been alone. Away from Tracy.

As he waited for everyone to get off of the bus (so it could move, and he could pull into the parking spot there), he put his head into his hands. What had he done wrong? It was obvious that Tracy didn't love him anymore. The opposite was true. He held her ring in his hands. What was he supposed to do with it now? He tossed it around in his hands, wishing he could drop it. Wishing he could drop everything.

He put the ring absent-mindedly into his pocket as he parked. He dragged his suitcase to his room, where he sat on his bed and listened to the idle chatter of his room-mates.

"You'll never guess what happened to me today," Joey was saying. "That little whore broke up with me."

"What?" Link asked, sitting up and paying attention.

"Amber. She broke up with me," Joey said flatly.

"When?"

"Today. We'd only been going out for a week," Joey replied, looking miserable. "I can't imagine why. Things were going so well. I was just about to do her, too, ya know?"

"That's too bad," Link said, not really thinking so. He was feeling worse for himself.

"You do know why, right?" Fender spoke up.

Joey looked at him, curiosity flashing in his eyes. "No… why?"

"For this guy," Fender nodded, looking at Link. "Tracy finally broke up with him."

Link socked him, not as hard as he wanted to; but hard enough to send him a message.

"Ow," Fender whined. "What was that for?"

Fender had never been the sharpest tool in the shed.

Mikey, looking bored, was teasing his hair into different styles while looking into the mirror. Fender was rubbing the spot on his arm where he'd just been hit. Joey was sighing and staring at a picture of Amber, unsure whether he wanted to kiss it or tear it up.

Link watched all of them, realizing how pitiful they all looked.

"What's wrong with us?" he asked, standing up.

The rest of the guys looked up, confused.

"What're we doing just sitting here? We've got a show to practice for, people."

"What about Amber?" Joey complained.

"And my arm?" Fender howled.

"I need to fix my hair," Mikey fussed.

Link bit back a smile, remembering that he had once said something similar. But now, it didn't seem that funny, especially since he had once been like that. Especially since it had been in a happier time.

"We'll get over it. We're men. Now man up!"

"Sir, yes sir!" The other boys chorused.

Link looked down at them from his position atop his bed, impressed. Now it was time to gather up his troops and head down to the lobby. Despite the way he was feeling, he was the one in charge here. He had to keep everyone together. After all, he was the leader.

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Maybelle gripped Corny's arm tightly as they walked down to the hotel lobby. They were staying at a place in Alabama, were many people were racist. The record company had unwittingly sent them to a very dangerous place.

"Maybe you should just stay in the room," Corny had suggested nervously.

"I feel safer with you," Maybelle had insisted.

So they went down to the lobby, where they were practicing for that night's show. So far, they hadn't gotten any trouble, but they had certainly gotten some strange looks. After practicing for an hour, everyone had relaxed more, but the situation was still tense; and it had nothing to do with race.

Tracy looked stiff in Link's arms, and Amber refused to look at Joey, even as they danced together. Inez looked out of place next to her white partner, and most of the Dynamites' voices were shaky when Jamal twirled by.

"All right, all right," Edna finally said. "Let's concentrate on dancing, all right?" She looked at the singers. "Oh, yes, and singing. I'm sorry."

She nodded in conformation, and everyone got to work again.

"The show tonight is going to be a disaster," she muttered under her breath to Maybelle.

"You can say that again," Maybelle agreed.

Corny wrung his hands out nervously as he watched. "A tragedy," he added.

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As they council members lined up on stage, they made their final primping efforts before getting into position. Everyone looked nervous, but put on their brave faces, because there was nothing else they could do. The show seemed to have a totally different atmosphere then they were used to. They were instantly met with scattered boos from the audience members – all of whom were white.

Penny looked at Seaweed anxiously, but he gave her a reassuring glance, and had the audacity to kiss her. (This resulted in a rock thrown onto the stage that landed harmlessly at everyone's feet.)

The group started singing and dancing to "You Can't Stop the Beat," trying to get the crowd excited. Still, nobody's heart was in it – not the dancers', the singers', or the audience members'. Yet they had to try, and so they would.

Midway through the song, Seaweed twirled Penny around him, and they decided that if no one else was going to try, they would. They took center stage, while Link and Tracy (who still weren't quite getting along) moved further to the side. Link tried to stay hidden behind Tracy, embarrassed at his bad performance.

As Seaweed and Penny took over, a distinctive click-click was heard from somewhere out in the audience. They saw something long and thin rise from the crowd, then level out. Then time seemed to stop.

BANG!

Seaweed and Penny froze in fear, and one would swear they could see the bullet that was currently flying right towards Seaweed Stubbs' chest. One would swear that the bullet was moving so slowly, they would have had time to get out of the way. One would swear that for some reason, fate was determined not to let that bullet hit Seaweed Stubbs. And, of course, fate would always get its way.

Because at that very moment, when the bullet was about to strike Seaweed Stubbs, it hit someone else instead.

Link Larkin had dove in front of him.

The music, singing, and dancing ceased immediately, and the only sound that could be heard was a wild cry from somewhere on stage.

"LINK!" Tracy screamed, rushing to his side. He lay on the ground in the center of the stage. Red pooled at his side.

His eyes looked glazed over, and for a moment, he seemed dead. His mouth was opened at an odd angle, and an almost animal sound was escaping from it. Tracy, sobbing, laid her head on his chest, pleading to God for the sound of a heartbeat. A faint, slowing one was there.

She lifted her head to see his mouth opening and shutting as he gasped for breath.

"I love you, Trace," he choked, fighting for air. "A-always."

She wept for him, her mind racing to come up with a response. "I've always loved you. Will love you," she promised, squeezing his hand.

"I know," Link gasped. He struggled to lift his head, so he could give her one last, heart-wrenching smile.

And then everything went black.