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As we arrived at the boy's pad I began to feel sick. Mike unlocked the door and we went inside. Micky was by the spiral staircase looking over at the kitchen table while holding onto the banister in disgust, "Hey." He uttered not once looking in our direction. Davy was by the instruments staring at the kitchen table, "Yeah... Hi." He said as if he were focusing on something. Peter was sitting on the sofa with his arms folded, "Hi." He grumbled "What's going on?" Mike asked. "Pete tried to make dinner." Micky replied. "So what's the problem?" I asked. "Peter tried to make dinner." Micky and David replied at the same time. "Well it can't be that bad." Mike chuckledd as he walked over to the kitchen area. He opened the pot, looked inside and then closed it back, "Yup, it's that bad." He muttered. "I followed the recipe." Peter sighed, "But something went wrong." "It's okay, Pete." I said as I walked over to him. "Who's your friend?" Davy asked. "This is my brother Anthony." I replied, "He's here from New York."