Chapter Seventeen

The only sound that was audible in the vast hallway was the sound of my skittish footsteps, despite the rather dense population milling about. All sounds had ceased the moment I stepped inside the wing, for some reason.

I suppose because no one ever sees someone like me, one of the students associated with the Fine Arts Wing, in the Performing Arts Wing. For your information, apparently there's some kind of long-standing rivalry between both departments, because of the similarities and differences both share.

Too alike or too different? That had been my question when I asked one of the literature students, and they merely shrugged and mumbled some incoherent answer about it being both, infuriating me in the process.

Make up your minds people!

"Excuse me, where can I find Dash Stryker?" I decided to try my luck with an innocent-looking freshman clutching a bookbinder, standing by a music room.

Instantly, the doe-eyed naiveté the round-face displayed morphed into a glare of hostility. I automatically took a step backwards, as the fifteen-year-old bared her teeth at me. "Why should I help a Fine Arts student?" she snarled, hackles raised.

"Fine fools, more like," an older boy standing a few feet away muttered maliciously, looking away when I turned to see him. He had a large string instrument case slung over his back. I don't like his tone, but man, do I appreciate a person who can carry something that heavy and make it look like nobody's business.

I felt my face flush in embarrassment; seriously, a senior getting told off by a freshman?

This is so not my day.

I turned away from the hostile glares of music-oriented freshmen with a mumbled apology, and started to blindly plow my way through the thick crowd of muttering Performing Arts students.

"Lost?"

The familiar voice made me turn at once. I realized that my reaction was too happy and instantaneous, but I suppose after braving through a truculent mass of students, it didn't really matter if I had lost all dignity or not.

"Dash!"

There standing by an open doorway of an empty classroom, was Dash. Dressed in black - as usual - with his gothic - or biblical? I can't really tell the difference - style on full blast, Dash was definitely the epitome of punk-rock in the department of Performing Arts students.

Also, it helps that everyone in the hallway was staring at Dash like he's some kind of god or something. Knowing him, he probably is the sun to their planet. The title to their books. The director to their orchestra. The- whatever. You get it, right?

"Looking for me?" A dark eyebrow was arched questioningly, "I thought you didn't want to have anything to do with me,"

At those words, I could feel the hostile aura of the place get heavier. I made a face at Dash before walking right up next to him. "You know why I'm looking for you," I whispered, only audible for both our ears.

"I might," came his teasing reply, "I might not. It depends,"

If it weren't for the scary, murderous intent radiating and reflecting off the walls of the hallway, I would totally attempt to kill him right now.

"Please," I gritted my teeth, "I need to talk to you,"

A corner of his mouth curved upwards, and he beckoned me towards the room he had occupied earlier. "Alright, then," he sighed mockingly. The ass! "I'll give you some of my time and lend an ear to you,"

-

"If you had a wig coupled off with that ridiculous disguise of yours, then maybe I would've not noticed," Dash remarked from the chair he was sitting in, flicking his fingers towards my hair, "But don't. You'll give me Hannah Montana nightmares. It's bad enough they have Hannah Montana Forever already,"

The empty music room was dark, and had an eerie - bordering on eldritch - atmosphere, definitely a place that someone like Dash can be found in. I stood in front of Dash in a steady stance, with a hard expression that hopefully, shows that I mean business.

But judging by the way he's so happily solving a Rubik's cube whilst tilting the chair backwards to rest his feet on top of the grand piano, my attempt at bad-ass is a complete, colossal fail.

Be more subtle, why don't you?!

"Oh hardeharhar," I growled, "If you must know, my hair isn't that unique, you know,"

Looking up from playing with the Rubik's cube, Dash gave me a somewhat contemptuous glance before pretending to examine the black varnish on his nails.

"And you're always around the Babies. Now tell me, from the point of view of an ignorant bystander, is it not suspicious that the bland, plain girl with a low standing in the society called Kaitlyn Hunter, is never present for her friends' performances despite the fact that she hangs out a lot with them for some God forbidden reason?"

"Ouch?" was the only word that came to mind.

Really, just because I don't have overdeveloped boobs or super-long legs and am not wealthy doesn't mean he has the license to hurt my pride like that.

I really, really don't like him.

Dash snapped his fingers, drawing my attention back to him. "Hello? Hunter? Did you hear what I just said?"

"Of course I did," I snapped back. I'm not a dog! Nobody calls me over like I'm some sort of a common dog! "What do you think I am? Deaf?"

"Only if you can't recall what I just told you," was his infuriating, smart-alecky reply.

"I can! You were insulting me, then you said-,"

Oh.

Crap.

I hadn't thought of that.

I think Dash has some freaky ESP powers or something, because his smirk grew wider and he said, "Thought so. But I may be able to assist you in solving your conundrum,"

Conundrum. Conundrum. A confusing and difficult problem or question; mostly associated with riddles. It also can be used to describe other kinds of problems.

Oh yeah. I am so passing English with an A this term!

"In what way?" I lifted my eyebrow coolly, not wanting to let loose the fact that I was really, really tetchy and anxious on the inside.

Must. Play. Cool.

Obviously, he is so not buying my act. At all. "Ah, I do have a suggestion that might require careful... consideration."

Careful pause consideration. Those are the ones that I really need to consider carefully. "Try me,"

Dash shuffled his legs slightly, drumming his intertwined fingers against his knuckles as they rested against his abdomen. Another lazy smirk played at his lips; he looked positively devious.

I am not going to like this, am I?

"What about you hang out with me instead of them for a while?"

Emo-goth boy say what?!

The grin on his face told me he wasn't kidding. A dark eyebrow was raised; was I going to consider it or not? That was the question he was asking me with that look.

Well, this is my answer.

"Hell no," I shook my head violently, "I just want you to promise me that you won't tell anyone-," I stressed my word with a pointed glare, "-that I'm actually Lightning,"

"Oh, would you look at the time!" Dash slid off the lounge, the devilish smirk never leaving his face, "Sorry, but I've got to get going. I'm a busy man, you know,"

Yeah right, and I'm Batgirl.

Okay. I have got to stop with these dorky analogies. Stupid Jordan and his awe- dumb comics.

"Wait!" I shot forwards, blocking the open doorway with an arm stretched across it. The hallway was already empty. "You haven't agreed to keep my identity to yourself yet!"

A look a innocent confusion skillfully surfaced on Dash's face. "Identity? What identity are you talking about, pray tell me?"

You no innocent! You lie! You evil! "You know, the one about-," I faltered when a student passed by, giving us a curious stare as he went.

Sunnuva-! The sadistic douche is obviously enjoying my irrational fear of his possession of the knowledge of my psuedonym's true identity! He chuckled as he ran his heavily ringed fingers through his dark hair.

"You know, if you'd consider my altruistic offer, maybe you'll find that I'm obligated to do favours for people I consider friends," A suggestive eyebrow shot up, "Now, you're not exactly my friend, are you? You see why I asked you for careful consideration?"

Oh, I definitely see why alright. You're an ass! That goddamned blackmailer! Why is he so good at this?

"Because when I want something, I make sure I get it by playing my cards right," Dash winked devilishly before slipping past me and heading down the hallway with long-legged strides, a pace I was surely unable to match, and left me gaping helplessly in the doorway.

Stupid Dash Stryker and his damn ESP!

-

"You're disgusting,"

You know, I always imagined Dash's choice of haunts to be seedy, dark places. Y'know, since I had his archetype classified into the whole emo-grunge scene.

I was wrong.

Screw stereotyping, because emo-goth boy certainly stays far away from the dark and dangerous, with his face caked with brightly-coloured cupcake frosting.

"You eat like a pig. Wait, scratch that. You eat worse than a pig," I wrinkled my nose as I watched Dash wolf down three more rainbow-frosted cupcakes in one breath.

Dash swallowed the last mouthful of cupcake before shooting me with a pointed look. "Look who's pot calling the kettle black," he said, "That's rich, coming from someone who's had a whole strawberry cheesecake for herself. And not to mention that fact that you actually finished the whole thing in one sitting,"

I felt my cheeks burn as I pretended not to hear him. "Jump off a bridge, Stryker,"

"Which one?" a friendly, feminine voice asked.

I turned around as Dash looked up to see a woman in her mid-twenties, flour smudging her beautiful face. She tucked back dark wisps of her that feel from her loosely knotted bun behind her ear.

"Dash, obviously," I grinned, "He's being a pig. Don't you ever feel the same way as I do now, Dynah?"

Yes, people. The day where I succumb to blackmail has arrived.

Dash had merely given me a grin when I said I'd try to hang out with him. He dragged me out of campus as soon as the final bell rang, and dragged me to one of the bakeries in town, which kind of surprised me.

What, exactly, surprised me? No, it wasn't the fact that the tough-guy acting boy had an enormous sweet tooth. It was actually the fact that he's okay... sort of.

He had pushed the glass door open - more like kicked it, but who am I to reprimand him when I kick Genevieve's door open every morning? - and as I savored the smell of sugar and freshly baked bread while taking in the cheery Candy Land atmosphere the bakery had going on, Dash made a beeline for the impressive tier of cupcakes sitting on the counter.

I surmised that they were a display, but Dash snatched a blue-frosted one off from the top and bit into it. I had my jaw wide open in horror. "Hey! That's what normal people call stealing! Pay for it first!"

"I agree with him not being normal,"

Dash had raised a single eyebrow, still pigging out on the cupcake, while I had looked up to see who had spoken. It was then I met the impossibly glamorous pastry chef, Dash's older sister, Dynah Stryker. The similarities between the two was unmistakable - they both had the same blue-black hair, steel-gray eyes and ridiculous bone structure.

Damn it. Is Sandfields like an expanded version of the ANTM mansion or something?!

Presently, Dynah made a face, shuddering involuntarily as she did so. "A time too many," she said in an exaggerated whisper in reply to my question, "He always offers to be my culinary guinea pig, no matter kind of of ingredients I use in my cakes. I can vividly recall an insect experiment once after watching an episode of the Big Bang Theory,"

"Caterpillar mango wasn't too bad," Dash said mildly, breaking a piece off a frosted cookie, "I could hardly taste the bug. Y'know, I heard that eating non-poisonous insects are beneficial to your health, with all that protein goodness,"

I cocked an eyebrow. "And where'd you get that off? Timon and Pumbaa from the Lion King?"

"While I appreciate the riveting story of that movie about the lost lion cub of Pride Rock, no. I got it off a documentary on Animal Planet," Dash reached for another cupcake from the stand on the table.

"If you eat this much all the time, why don't you ever get fat?" I asked, curious, "Do you work out a lot or something?"

Dash snickered as he licked the frosting off his fingers. "Me? Work out?" he looked like he'd just heard a particularly funny joke, "Emo-goth boys like me don't do stuff like that. We have awesome metabolism,"

Damn narcissist. "Is that synonymous for 'private yoga sessions'?" I asked sardonically.

Dynah chuckled while Dash shot me a dirty look. I merely looked the other way, sucking on the straw of my iced tea innocently.

"Well, I'll go back to work now," Dynah wiped her hands on her smudged apron, "Enjoy!"

"We will," both Dash and I answered in unison, before shooting each other looks again.

"I didn't know you had a sister," I commented thoughtfully, looking away from Dash and at the direction where Dynah had gone, "You struck me as an only-child type,"

"You struck me as a brutally honest girl with limitless confidence," Dash retorted, obviously referring to my hiding behind a mask as the Lightning Kitty.

Touche, Goth Boy.

"Whatever," I sniffed, pouring more honey into my glass of tea, "So, why'd you want me to hang out with you anyway? You could've just asked me to pay you, you know,"

Catching Dash light up at my stupid suggestion, I quickly hastened to add, "Not like I'd do it anyway,"

Dash grinned as he contemplated on which cupcake to demolish next. The boy can really eat. "Well, you might assume that I have a lot of friends, but I actually don't have that many,"

Oh, no. I definitely did not assume that. I totally knew that you're the kind to have no friends at all. "Uh-huh," I grunted, only mildly interested in what he was saying. Majority of my attention was fixated on the cake display situated alongside the cash register.

"Hey, Kaitlyn," Dash snapped his fingers, "Listen to me here when I'm trying to be serious, will you?"

I rolled my eyes. How many times do I have to correct him until he gets the fact that I'm not a dog? Seriously, he's just like Jay sometimes.

Jay.

Right.

I haven't talked to him for more than a week now. Still busy with his new girlfriend, Meredith Ford.

An unexplainable pang hit me, but I assume it was the sugar overload taking a toll on me. I quickly pushed all thoughts of Jay to the back of my mind.

"Fine," I adopted my best expression of alertness, "Please, do enlighten me on your mind's inner workings,"

"Sarcasm is definitely one thing we have in common," Dash noted, tapping his finger against his chin, "Anyways, you're an interesting person, so I thought I'd like you have you as my friend. That's all, really. Don't you feel honored that you were especially hand-picked by me?"

"Not at all," I snorted in derision, "Get real and stop lording whatever you have over me. You must know, I'm not some gold-digging girl who only makes friends to just take advantage of people."

"Exactly my point," Dash smacked a palm against the surface of the wooden table, making the contents shake slightly. Does he really not go to the gym or something? He's rather strong for a scrawny-looking Goth Boy. "That factor is the reason why I want you to be my friend,"

"Why me, though?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, "You could choose any one of those students in the Performing Arts Wing; they'd have a field day. You do realize they practically fall over themselves in your presence, right? That the crowd automatically parts just so you can walk through without any obstructions? That-,"

"Alright, alright. I've got it," Dash clamped a hand over my mouth, effectively shutting me up before removing it, "That's the reason why I can't be friends with them. It'll just be a pointless friendship, because they only admire me for my talent, and nothing else,"

Wow. I hadn't thought of that. But I guess it's true, though. Maybe that's why Ja- I mean, the guys of the band don't really have friends outside of the band, because of their statuses. I actually kind of pitied and sympathized with them for a moment, before I remembered that they have a large fanbase of girls claiming to know the real them, underneath all that glitz and glamour.

Still, I wonder if they know how the boys go about their daily lives, when they're not in school or at performing venues? Do they know that Tyson likes to draw and paint, just like me? Do they know that Leo's not a dumb blonde, but actually a super-genius with an extremely high IQ?

That Jordan's not just a band geek, but an actual, fully-fledged computer geek? That Lance likes to read a lot, especially classic literature, and that when he speaks, it's mostly discombobulating (A word that Lance taught me!) and gives you a headache?

No, they don't. Now that I think about it, Dash is right. It's hard to find real friends when you're a person with a high status.

Thinking of my friends made me realize that I hadn't been spending time with the complete circle very much, the one where Jay was included. Stupid, moronic Jay and his ludicrous antics.

Call me crazy, but I think I actually miss his stupidity.

I looked up to see Dash looking at me intently, a somewhat different smile on his face. He had that usual questioning look on his face, which made me wonder if he knew what I was thinking about.

"Hey, Dash. Is it possible to have poor, deteriorated judgement from ingesting too much sugar?" I decided to ask, since we all know that Dash spends a lot of his time watching documentaries.

Note the heavy sarcasm used there.

"Do you actually think sugar is like alcohol?" Dash chortled, "You're stupid,"

I glared at him. "I was just wondering, because I was thinking about-,"

"Stanford and the other people of your bunch?" Dash guessed. He's good. Maybe he should open a fortune-telling tent in the next carnival that comes to Sandfields.

As he looked at the expression of guilt and mild surprise on my face, Dash's smirk intensified. "Alright. I know that. I actually expected it,"

"Did you know?" Now I'm curious. How'd he know?

"I happen to have had a lot of free time on my hands this past week, and I've been observing the going-ons in the academy," Aha! He stalks people as a hobby! I knew it! "And I happen to have observed the interactions between you and Jayden Stanford. Quite a sudden aberration from your daily routine of constant bicker and banter,"

"Creep,"

"You hurt me, you really do," Dash's voice dripped with cynicism. Obviously, he was right about the one thing the both of us have in common. "So, what happened, by the way? You and Stanford have some sort of a lover's spat or something?"

"No!" I denied vehemently. Seriously, if he's that observant, why doesn't he know that Jay's got a super-gorgeous girlfriend? I think he seriously only watches Animal Planet on the television. "We don't have any romantic ties with each other!"

Dash had a disbelieving look, and I could tell he was not buying a word of what I was saying. "It's true!" I insisted, "If you don't believe me-,"

"...I could go ask him right now?" Dash suggested as he cut me off, chin resting on one hand with an elbow propped against the table with the other hand pointed behind me.

I turned around, reluctant to see the person that I'd been skillfully avoiding for the past week. I couldn't see clearly, because of the frosted glass, but I could make out the unmistakable shape of Jay as he stood in front of the doors, probably contemplating on whether to come in or not.

Shit.

I squeezed my eyes shut and starting muttering a mantra to myself. "Please don't come in. Please don't come in. Please don't come in. Please don't come in. Please don't come in. Please don't come in..."

The bell above the door tinkled, but it sounded more like a huge thunderstorm rumbling overhead me as I realized the awkward situation I was surely to be in when Jay realizes that I'm with Dash, the 'sworn enemy'.

I ducked my head down as Jay walked in with - surprise, surprise! - Meredith, hands linked together. For some reason, I felt sick. I think I overindulged in Dynah's cakes.

I wildly gestured at Dash in an attempt to prevent him from letting Jay realize that we were sitting a table away from him and Meredith.

"Hey there, Stanford."

Too late.

Chapter Sixteen

References: Stuff I don't own, blah blah blah. Don't sue, alright?

---------------------------------------

The sketch in front of me is a drawing of the stately mansion that belongs to Leo. We're actually in his wing of the mansion right now, chilling and relaxing in the living room. I put down the pencil - Faber Castell sure makes nice pencils! - was holding.

"Tell the leader that I refuse to sing this song," I told Tyson shortly, looking up from the sketch I was drawing, "Tell him it's stupid and senseless,"

I heard Tyson sigh, get up, and walk towards another area of the room. "Kaitlyn says she doesn't want to sing this song," I heard him say. Boy, that Tyson sure knows how to censor sentences.

I could literally feel a pair of eyes boring into my back. "Tell the lead singer that I want her to sing this damn song, no matter how stupid she thinks it is," See Tyson? You didn't need to censor my words for me. He can hear them just fine. "It's necessary,"

Tyson came back with a tired look on his face. "Jay says he wants you to sing the song because it's necessary,"

Necessary? How can a pop-genre Britney Spears song be necessary for an alternative rock band to cover? Does he think that we're what, on Glee?

"Well, tell the leader that I-," I began to reply, but someone delightfully cut me off.

"Kaitlyn!! Jayden!! I have had enough!!" Chace cried dramatically. Tyson had pleaded for him to come over to try smoothen things out. As you can see, it was an effort of futility, "Assez!! This has been going on for almost a week!! Don't you think the rest of us are tired of being your message-carriers!?"

Ever since The Thing™, I have been avoiding Jay like the plague. Jay? Likewise. We've both been avoiding each other. Ignoring the other when we enter the room, pretending that the other isn't there when performing on stage and making the other guys send messages back and forth.

It's been pretty much over a week since it happened. The insensitive drunkard didn't even find the time or reason to apologize to me!

"Jay, Meredith is here. She's waiting for you at the front door," Leo said as he entered the room, carrying a box in his arms.

Oh yes! Now I remember why he doesn't have the time to make a measly apology for his detrimental actions!! He's too busy with his new girlfriend, Meredith Ford.

"I'll be going now," I heard Jay tell the guys, "And tell the lead singer that I don't care. Britney Spears," And the door slammed shut.

I finally put down the sketch pad and pencil and turned to face everyone. "What?" I asked innocently, "You heard me. No Britney Spears. As much as I appreciate the fact that she is an icon in pop culture, I cannot stand singing songs about hitting myself one more time,"

Jordan sighed wearily. I think he's the one who's taken the second-most toll in this Cold War: Revised Edition, since he's usually the one who pokes fun at me with Jay. "Kaitlyn, why don't you just tell us what happened between the two of you??"

"Yeah," Leo piped up, taking a seat on the floor, picking up a couple of PS3 games and examining them, "The day after the debut party, you both started talking as if the other didn't exist!!"

"No direct interaction for a week," Tyson added, "Wow,"

"Even I, the gay and girly one, have failed to extract anything concerning the rift between the two of them!!" Chace said, horrified, "I have forsaken my gender-kind!!"

"Now, now, Chace," Gabriel patted the American-French on the back comfortingly, "I'm sure that Kaitlyn just doesn't want to talk about it with anyone right now,"

"Yeah, not even me," Leo agreed, slotting a disc into the PS3 console, picking up a wireless controller and throwing it over to Jordan, "And that's saying something, since I'm usually the one everybody confides in,"

I growled in frustration. I know it's my fault, but why can't they bother Jay instead!?

Oh yes. It completely slipped my mind. Too busy sucking face with Meredith Ford.

"Jay hasn't kissed Meredith, if that's what you're grumbling about," Tyson said, "Sure, they're going out and all, but their relationship hasn't gone up a notch,"

Damn. I was speaking my mind unknowingly!

"Yet," Jordan snickered, shaking his head, "That guy. I thought he didn't like the girl!!"

I felt my face flush in embarrassment. They're talking as if I'm being jealous! I am so not jealous.

"I wasn't grumbling about that!!" I denied, "I was grumbling about the fact that you guys only ask me about what happened!! Why can't you ask him instead!?"

Leo flashed me a smile. Ugh. I hate that smile. It always never fails to make me not mad at him. "Jay's been preoccupied by his thoughts," he defended his best friend. Gosh, he's so noble. Why can't Jay be like that as well!? If he were noble, then the Thing™ wouldn't have taken place!! "His mother just recently contacted him, so he's been pretty moody for a while now,"

Stupid, ignoble, idio-wait. Did Leo just say his mother? "As in his real mother?" I asked curiously, not caring about the fact that I was still not talking to the ass. My question sounded weird, but then I realized the others had also asked the same thing in unison. Looks like everyone doesn't know except him.

Leo realized what he had just let slip, as he clamped a hand over his mouth. "I didn't say anything!!" he said, his voice muffled.

I did know that Jay had a very bad relationship with his birth mother, but I don't exactly know the reason why. His aunt and uncle, his adoptive parents, seemed to be very worried when Jay expressed distaste for his mom during the party last week.

The cogs in my mind started turning slowly, as I tried to work out the broken connection between mother and son. If his mom really abandoned Jay and his sister, Dakota, then why would she bother to contact him? Hearing from Jed, I knew that his mother was a successful pastry chef in some European country, so money would definitely not be the issue.

A few minute's silence ensued as I thought hard, then a brilliant idea popped up in my mind.

"Yes!!" I squealed delightedly, only to be met by curious stares from my peers. "I just remembered that I'm receiving a parcel from my parents today. Souvenirs," I explained lamely to them.

They simply shrugged and went back to watching Leo and Jordan try to kill each other on Tekken 6.

"I'll be leaving now!" I said chirpily as I packed up my stationery. I pulled the strap of my sling bag over my head and turned around.

"Kaitlyn,"

I jumped, startled to see Leo standing right in front of me. "Do you want anything from me?"

Leo smiled awkwardly as he took hold of my hand. "Kaitlyn, I know you're tired of hearing this, and I won't press you with more questions," he said, the expression on his face was one of earnestness, "But please, try to work things out with Jay. I care a lot about the both of you, and I really want things to go back to the way it was before,"

I returned his smile with another smile, and he hugged me. "Leo, I'll try," I said cryptically, before heading off.

-

I touched my plain black mask, making sure it was intact and safely on before entering the building that was Byron Dominic's domain. The Sacrosanct Neophyte's HQ. I'm on a very important mission, if you haven't noticed.

Damn, do I sound like one of those uber cool super-spies in movies!! Maybe I'll work for the CIA when I grow up.

Nah, I'm too lazy and unalert.

"Um, hi, is Byron Dominic in?" I asked the receptionist at the front desk nervously. What? I'm afraid they're gonna turn me out!!

"I'm sorry, do you have an appointment with him?" the receptionist asked coldly. See? I told you. She's turning me out!! I'll bet you she doesn't mean her 'sorry', "Because if you don't, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Only employees are allowed to meet Mr. Dominic without making an appointment first,"

Damn! Damn! Damn!

"But I'm the Lightning Kitty," I said, an ounce of desperation in my voice. Damn it! I just want to see the man!! Why won't you let me, you stupid woman!?

The receptionist snorted. "You know, girl," she said, giving me a cold glare. She's dropped all of the formalities, I see. Nice. "I've had at least five girls in already claiming that they're the Lightning Kitty. And you know what? They're all fake!! Trying to get in to have a taste of fame or stalk one of our stars!! So why do you think I'll fall for your lie? Get out, or I'll have to call security to apprehend you,"

"But I'm the real deal!!" I insisted, "The flesh-and-blood Lightning Kitty!! Why would I ever lie to you?"

"Because you're just a wanna-be little girl who, instead of being here, should just go home and play with your make-up and remain dreaming about the day you become rich, successful and famous? Which, by the way, will never happen??"

Gosh, what has crawled up her ass and died today? Bitch.

"But I-!"

"Security!!" the bitch shrieked, rapidly pressing a red button near her computer screen, "We have a problem!!"

Instantly, a bunch of black-suited guys - who, by the way, look more like FBI agents as opposed to plain ol' security guys - surrounded me. One of them grabbed my arms, and my survival instincts kicked in.

"I'm the real thing, dammit!!" I shrieked, as I started flailing around. My bag slid off my shoulder and fell onto the floor with a dull thud. I accidentally kicked one guy in the face as he tried to grab my legs in an attempt to subdue me.

The leg-grabber groaned as he now grabbed his face. Is that blood I see? Gosh, I really do know how to pack a kick, don't I??

"Uh, what's going on here?"

The black-suited guys stopped and straightened up. The arm-grabber put me down as he saluted He-Who-Interrupted-My-Epic-Fight. "Mr. Stryker, good afternoon. We were just trying to get this impersonator to leave," I heard one of the dudes lie.

Dash? I couldn't see him, as I was still surrounded by these black-suited assholes.

By the way, let me clue you in boys, A) I AM THE FRIGGIN' REAL THING and B) YOU WERE MANHANDLING ME!!

"Impersonator?" I heard Dash ask with interest, "May I see who it is??"

"Oh, do be careful Dashielle!" I heard the bitch exclaim with a sickly-sweet tone, "That ruffian is dangerous!! She kicked Jerry's face and broke his nose!!"

"She? A girl broke your nose?" I could hear undisguised delight. Sick, sick boy. "I have got to see this girl!!"

Reluctantly, the assholes surrounding me stepped aside to give Dash a better view of me.

Dash's grin seemed to grow wider when he somehow managed to recognize me. "Lightning??" he exclaimed in amusement, "I knew you were wild, seeing how you hang out with those babies, but wow, is this a whole new level!"

I made a face and my eyes darted over to see the expression on the bitch's face. Priceless.

Her jaw was wide open, her eyes were wide as well; any more wider would've caused them to pop out of their sockets; and she was now gaping like a goldfish.

"Hello, Dash," I greeted curtly, repressing the smug smile that was threatening to form on my face. "It's been quite a while,"

"Likewise," he smirked, before turning to Bitchy Receptionist with an innocent face. "May I ask why you're calling her an impersonator? Don't you recognize her? She's the Lightning Kitty,"

"B-But she may be lying!!" Bitchy Receptionist insisted, "She's going along with your questions!! She's deluding you!! She's not even with the Lightning Devils!!"

"So what if I'm not with them?" I snapped, "I can visit my workplace any time I like!! With or without them!!"

Dash seemed to notice something on the floor, because he bent down and picked up my bag. "Why didn't you show this to her?" he asked me, fishing something out from underneath my sketchpad, which had fallen out of the bag during the struggle.

A collective gasp of 'Oh, shit!'s from the FBI - so shoot me if they're not real FBI - went around their little group; their faces blanched. Must be a very important thing that Dash fished out and that I do not know about.

I scrutinized the rectangular, laminated card. It had my pseudonym on it, and the unmistakable signature of Byron Dominic, accompanied with the big, bold letters: ARTISTE.

What the hell? When did this get here? I never knew of the existence of his identification card until, well, Dash pulled it out!!

"I..." I failed to find words to explain the mysterious card, when a scene of my life from earlier played out in my head. Didn't Leo take my hand, then hug me?

My God.

Leo knows! Leo knew I was going to visit Byron!! He had me figured out under five minutes!!

He probably anticipated my movements when he had accidentally let slip that Jay's mom contacted him. Wait. Maybe he did it on purpose!! But what for??

"Well, whatever. Now that you've shown the identification card, I suggest you apologize to Lightning, because I'm sure Byron's not going to be very happy about this when he hears about this," Dash suggested with an innocent smile. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "From me,"

"Oh, no. I'm sure Mr. Dominic doesn't need to hear about it!!" Bitchy Receptionist said hastily, then pasted on the fake smile of all fake smiles, "I'm sorry about the misunderstanding, Miss Lightning,"

"Oh no, it's okay," I replied grudgingly with a fake smile of my own, "I'm glad you now know that I'm not some two-faced, suck-up bitch who licks the floor that rich, successful and famous people walk on!! Who, by the way, will probably spend the rest of her miserable life in front of a computer screen, monotonously typing away!!"

Woman, I may not look like it, but I can be a bitch too. Also, verbal arguments with Chace is good enough practice for me.

Bitchy Receptionist's jaw went wide open indignantly when she decoded my sentence. I can see that she's tempted to make a bitchy remark, but really, does she want to do that with Dash around??

"Come on, Lightning," Dash snickered, as he pulled me towards the elevators, "I'm sure you want to see Byron as soon as possible, after all the trouble you've been through,"

-

"So."

"So," I shot Dash a look.

"Why go through all that trouble when you knew that they weren't gonna believe you were the real thing?" Dash prodded my side, "And without the babies, too. Must be a very important thing you want to either ask or tell Byron,"

"My business is of no concern of yours, Dashielle,"

"My, my!!" Dash feigned a hurt look, and dramatically placed a hand over where his heart should be. I mean, why would goth-boy have a heart? He's evil. "And this is coming from I person who's skin I just saved!!"

"I could've taken care of myself just fine, thank you," I shot back.

The elevator dinged, signaling that we had reached my destination. Goth-boy Dash was heading to the recording studio above this floor. "If you will excuse me, I'll be taking my leave," I said primly, before stepping out of the elevator.

"Bye Kaitlyn!!" Dash waved mockingly as the doors closed.

What the-? Oh. My. God. OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!!

DASH KNOWS!! DASH KNOWS WHO I REALLY AM!!!!

How did he figure it out!? Is he like a mind-reader or something!?

I quickly turned to press the elevator button, abusing the poor button with rapid, desperate jabs, my wanting to see Byron Dominic, forgotten. I seriously can't trust Dash without coercing him into keeping my secret! It's even a miracle that it hasn't been blown yet. This is Dash Stryker we're talking about. The malicious-looking teenager who seems full of teenage angst, who also happens to be in part of the Lightning Devil's rival band, Lucifer. Knowing who Lightning Kitty is... it's just screaming for him to sabotage us.

I'm so screwed.

Chapter Fifteen

References: Iconic pop culture, some notable celebrity names. The usual.

----------------------------------

I found myself woken up from a strange dream where I had been cutting slices cheese and serving them to mice. Weird, I know. But not so much as the dream I once had about a trout in a fishbowl that had something to do with Superman.

I shook my head very much like the way cats and dogs usually do when they're yawning, and stretched, looking at the closed door of the guest room I had been given when the guys and Chace said they wanted to celebrate the success of the MV's shooting, by illegally drinking and partying in the living room in Leo's wing of his family's mansion and they refused to take no for an answer.

Apparently, it's okay to drink when you're seventeen going on eighteen and heading places, so long as you don't embarrass yourself and end up getting arrested for underage intoxication.

Rich people. 

I freshened myself up with a shower and a change of clothes in the bathroom connected to the guest room before heading out to the living room outside. I was greeted with a sorry sight of hungover teenagers.

Shaking my head, I stepped towards the glass doors of the balcony outside while stepping over empty cans of beer and bottles of wine, and opened the doors, feeling a gust of the cold, chilly winter-spring wind rushing into the room. Ah. The medley of groans sounds like music to my sober ears.

"Cold! Cold! Too cold!!" I heard Jordan whine in his half-asleep and hungover state, "My head's killing me!!"

"God, Kaitlyn!" Tyson cried from his sleep, "Could you be more sadistic?"

"I think I have a migraine..." Gabriel groaned. I'm surprised he indulged in the drinking party. I guess since Gabriel himself is rich, he probably has the same mind-set as the rest of the rich, hungover babies sprawled all over the area of the living room.

I put on my best chirpy-morning-loving smile and beamed at the boys. "Morning!! How was your sleep?" I greeted enthusiastically, "I'll be making pancakes for breakfast!! Want some?"

Leo and Jay, ever so smooth, pulled themselves off the ground with amazing capability and grabbed each of my hands.

"Why, I'll be glad to eat anything that you make especially for me, love," Leo said, smiling brilliantly at me.

"They say when a woman cooks for a man, it signifies adoration..." Jay added, winking.

My Lord. Hungover and attacked by the frosty morning air, but these two really have amazing willpower and dedication to their statuses as suave gentleman and bad boy respectively.

I pulled my hands away from them. "Leo, you'd better make sure you want the damn pancakes and help me get the flour and ingredients out of the fridge, and Jay go get an aspirin or something, for the two of you. Wait, make that the six of you," I ordered as I cast a critical eye upon the people on the floor, "The rest of you, line up and take turns showering. Now."

No one budged, so I picked up a huge torchlight from the coffee table and strode towards the row of drawn curtains. "Get going or you will understand why the Darkness fears the presence of Light."

"Who are you now, Darth freakin' Hunter?" I heard Jordan mumble from his place on the floor.

I felt a prick of annoyance and I flashed the torch on and off menacingly. "Three...!"

"We're up!!" they hastily chorused in unison and picked themselves off the floor and couches.

Holding the torch in my hand like a lethal light saber, I watched as Jay traipsed off groggily to the medicine cupboard to look for aspirin tablets while Leo headed towards the kitchenette and the others lining up like prisoners in two separate lines, waiting for temporary custody of one of the two bathrooms.

The feel of total sober dominance and control makes me feel awesome and on Cloud Nine. Hear me roar!

-

Everyone was seated at the table in the kitchenette, clean, fresh, wide-awake and very much sober each with a plate of pancakes and fresh fruit. Chace was with us too, having dropped by a few minutes ago casting a critical eye of his own at the boys' audacity to indulge in underage drinking.

"I have no jurisdiction over what you do, but I'm warning you, this excessive consumption can lead to irreversible grotesqueness!" was the first thing he said when he took off his aviator sunglasses. Trust him to think that being beautiful is the most important thing in the world. What about things like liver cirrhosis or brain damage?

Probably suffering from attention-withdrawal, since everyone's attention was on their food, Jay decided to make an announcement.

"We all have to thank darling Kitty here for waking us up," he gestured towards me mockingly, "As the party for the band's debut as well as the music video for Blast From My Past is tonight!!"

Like little foolish lambs, the guys clapped for the egotistical guitarist with innocent wonder, while Chace and I shook our heads. Jay bowed to his 'loving' audience and continued, "Because of such a special event, we - the guys - will go to the arcade for the whole day while Chace goes shopping with Kaitlyn to look for a dress for tonight's prestigious occasion!!"

Thundering applause, if that's the right phrase for the next response. Really. I feel hurt. After all the trouble I went through to make sure they're not sick for the whole day and received a proper breakfast, this is how they treat me?

I sniffed in contempt. "Well,"

Leo grinned at me. "Well, Kaitlyn, it's not that we hate you," he assured, "We're just very enthusiastic at the prospect of having some quality hangout time together as guys,"

"Without me," I added blithely and pointed at Chace, "Or that,"

Chace's hand fluttered over to his chest. "What, I'm a 'that' now!?" his voice sounded incredulous and insulted.

"Details, details," Jay waved his hand loftily, "Leo's got a chauffeur waiting outside for the two of you. Knock yourselves out with the unlimited budget! Let's go and kick some digital butt now, men! Huzzah!"

"Huzzah!" the others responded gleefully as they filed out of the kitchenette, leaving me with Chace.

Huzzah indeed. It's like killing two birds with one stone for them. A) They don't have me to nag at them and B) They don't have Chace to nag at them.

"Well I never," Chace commented, sipping at his coffee, "Shall we leave now, mon ami?"

"He did say to knock ourselves out with the unlimited budget. Does that mean we can buy anything?" I asked brightly.

Chace held up a neatly folded piece of paper. "This is a list of things we're going to look for today in the very limited amount of time we have before we have to prepare you."

Aw. Killjoy. I was thinking of going on a culinary expedition to delight our taste buds too!

"And if you were thinking of some food indulgence trip-," Chace added - whoa, he's a psychic! - with a pointed look, "-you're sorely mistaken. You're the only one who wants to get fat,"

"Are you saying that I'm fat?" I asked, slightly insulted.

Chace stood up from his chair and grabbed the platinum card Jay had left lying on the table.

Apparently, the guys had decided to use the band's platinum card for my shopping trip with Chace, having given him free reign to wreak havoc on the world. As far as money was concerned, the limit surpassed the stratosphere.

Please wait while I mutter about people with more money than common sense.

"You will be, if you decide to deviate from this pre-arranged trip and proceed with your gluttonous idea,"

"Pre-arranged my foot," I muttered as I grabbed my coat that was draped on my chair, "No one told me that I was gonna be abandoned with you today,"

"When someone is supposed to have a shopping appointment with a celebrity stylist like moi," Chace announced, "Nobody has complaints. So shut up, listen and get into the car, comprends?"

So shut up, listened and got into the car I did.

-

"I was thinking maybe if we go with the Little Black Dress concept, nothing will go wrong," Chace mused. He turned to the sales assistant. "What do you think?"

I sulked as I squirmed in my seat on the plush velvet sofa that the boutique provided for tired guests. I, for one, was definitely tired from walking so much, after going to about a billion different high-end boutiques until we reached this place. Who knew shopping could qualify as good exercise?

"What's the occasion, Chace?" she asked, giving me a once-over, "Someone's Sweet Sixteen?"

Sweet Sixteen? What the heck?? I'm seventeen going on eighteen, lady!

"Ah, non. I'm just picking out a dress for an absent client," Chace lied easily, "As you can see, my assistant, Tiffy here, is a replacement, because both my client and her have similar body structures,"

Tiffy? Of all names, he had to choose Tiffy?

I narrowed my eyes and gave Chace the best glare I had in my arsenal, as he continued to debate on the choice of dresses with the sales  assistant. All the while, the damned stylist had a devious smile on his face.

This guy is really good; everything is like water off a duck's back for him.

-

I ended up with a really cute dress that follows the Little Black Dress concept or whatever Chace's been talking about for the past two hours, and a matching pair of killer (literally) high heels and now, we're picking out jewelry to - as Chace says - complement my outfit.

"Just so we're clear," I whispered to Chace as the sales assistant went into the back room to bring out their more pricey and valuable pieces, "We're not going to pick out a necklace, all right? Just a bracelet or something,"

"Why ever not?" Chace whispered back, "I mean, you didn't have any complaints or guilt about the money we spent previously,"

"Well, guilt has caught up with me," I retorted snappily, tapping my fingers against the glass counter.

Chace scrutinized me carefully, and slowly, he hooked the previously unnoticed silver chain around my neck with his finger and held it up. "Is this of any sentimental value to you, mon ami?" he asked, "Because as far as I know, I've never seen anything like this. Is it handmade?"

The pendant swirled freely in the air. It was nothing valuable, just an intricate clover pendant, made by twisting bits of copper wires around, with four tiny, glittering, green crystals in the clover's leaves.

I bit my lip. "Maybe," I said as an answer to both his questions, trying to pass off as nonchalant, "Anyhow, no necklaces,"

Chace sighed and didn't press any further, only turning to look at the array of silver bracelets in front of him.

Some people do know how to respect other people's privacy.

-

"Keep your back straight! No hunching! Stick out whatever you have!" Chace scolded as he escorted me towards the doors of the ballroom of the hotel that had been rented for the occasion, "There's a reason why we bought this strapless dress!!"

"What, so it can slip off and render me naked to the whole world?" I replied snarkily. I had not been happy when Chace had made the purchase.

Chace raised his eyebrows. "Of course not, débile," he chided, "It's to show off your non-existent womanly assets and as well as your back to the whole world, actually, since you refused to buy the backless piece I picked out. Ever heard the song Sexy Back?"

"Chace, that song was about bringing sexy back, not a bunch of sexy backs," I explained with annoyance, as I tottered up the stairs clumsily. I think I have blisters already.

"No one cares," Chace said airily as he caught hold of my hand and steadied me, "Now, listen here. Talk only to nice boys, okay? Also, no bad impressions on any of the important people,"

"Who are you, my mother?" I muttered.

Chace smiled. "I'd be honored to substitute your currently absent mère, but I am biologically unsuitable for the role,"

"Wow, I hadn't noticed," I replied glumly as the doormen asked for identification.

"Name on the list?" Doorman One asked, looking at the clipboard in his hands.

"Chace and the Lightning Kitty," the stylist answered.

Doorman Two regarded us. I guess he has the right to have doubts. Anyone could impersonate me with a cat mask like mine. "Are you sure? Do you have any other form of identification available?"

Chace's good-natured smile melted away and he narrowed his eyes. "Do you think that I, Chace, number one stylist to the rich and beautiful, would lie like a common street rat to get into a party?" he asked, "If that is so, I have some very, very dangerous connections that could get rid of the both of you and no one would ever notice,"

Doorman One hastily opened the door, "Welcome to the debut party of the Lightning Devils! Congratulations on your success, Miss-!"

"Lightning," I answered, as Chace led me through the open door, "Or Kitty. Although Lightning is better,"

-

Chace scanned the crowded ballroom from the top of the stairs, looking for someone. "Chace! I'm so glad you could make it!" a beautiful woman with blond hair dressed in a deep red evening gown - comparably prettier than my black cocktail number - hugged Chace and they air-kissed each other. "And this must be the elusive Lightning Kitty!"

"Um. Hi," I said dumbly registered the fact that I'm one of the main attractions here tonight.

Chace tutted and pulled me towards were he was standing with the woman who had greeted us. "Lightning, this is  Sharon Dominic, Jay's mother," Chace supplied, "Sharon, this is the Lightning Kitty. Call her Lightning, because apparently that's what she prefers,"

Jay's mom? This woman is the woman that Jay hates? How could he hate a woman like her?

Sharon laughed lightly. "Oh Chace, you're still going with that story Jayden feeds to anyone who's ever asked him about his family?"

What? I'm confused. I looked up at Chace with raised eyebrows and big eyes, hoping that my question could be conveyed through the deceptive mask I was wearing.

Instead of Chace, Sharon answered my unspoken question instead. "It's true that I'm Jayden's mother," she assured, "But I'm not his real mother. I'm his aunt, actually. Jayden and his sister, Dakota are both Byron's and my adopted children,"

Before I could ask more questions, though, Chace grabbed me by my shoulders and started steering me away. "Okay! I see Byron over there! We'll take our leave for now, Sharon. We're going to greet Byron now!" he said, and leaned over to my ear to whisper, "Kaitlyn, it's best if you don't dig further into Jay's family matters. He's always been sensitive about the topic of his real parents,"

He withdrew and pulled me further towards a man with the same hair as Jay has, only neatly trimmed and graying at the edges. "Byron!" Chace called out, extending his hand for a handshake, "Thank you for inviting me and my friend here!"

Byron excused himself from the people to whom he was previously speaking to and turned towards us with a jovial grin on his face. "Chace! Good to see you!" he said and he noticed my presence, "This must be..." he looked around and whispered, "Kaitlyn also known as Lightning?"

So this is the Eccentric Billionaire with the spartan tendencies. I must say, I expected a hard-faced man with some military substance to him. Instead, Byron looked more like a movie star of his own right.

Uncle or not, Jay's obviously inherited some looks from his adopted father.

"Yes, sir, thank you for everything you've done for my benefit!" I said nervously as he grabbed my hand and shook it firmly.

"Don't worry about it! You're a talented young lady, Lightning, if only you weren't so camera-shy you'd be a universal success!" Byron said, "So, Jayden spent the night over at Leon's house last night? Whatever were you doing?"

Chace gave a bright smile. "The shooting for the music video was a success, so they decided a little celebration was in order,"

Huh. Looks like Chace hasn't lost his touch for giving clean-cut Disney versions.

"Hey, dad,"

The three of us turned to see Jay, Leo, Jordan, Tyson, Lance and Gabriel all dressed - Jordan still had his headphones around his neck, though. Guess there's no changing the geek in him. - and looking devastatingly handsome. It's no wonder that all the women - single or not - were turning their heads to catch a glimpse of them.

"Jayden! Where have you been? Why didn't all of you come along with Lightning and Chace?" Byron asked, hugging his adopted son and shaking hands with the others with a warm smile.

Jay grinned. "We went out for some guy-time while Kitty had a girlie day out with Chace,"

"I see, I see," Byron nodded in understanding. Clearly, he's well-versed in his son's antics.

"Jayden! You're here!" Sharon appeared out of the blue, "Boys! Hello!"

Jay grinned at his adopted mother. "Hey mom. Where's Dakota?" he asked.

Strange. I don't see any signs of malice here. Does this mean Jay's hatred is actually for his real mother and not his aunt slash adopted mother?

"Talking to one of the supermodels, I think," Sharon said, before ducking down to hide behind Lance.

"Mom?" Jay looked at his mother with an eyebrow arched.

"That Belle Hoover keeps wanting to talk to me about setting one of you boys up with her daughter!" Sharon sighed, shaking her head, "I couldn't stand her incessant talking about where, when and with who the non-existent date was going to happen, so I decided to take refuge in your little group of friends,"

Byron chuckled. "Well, I'm sorry about this, but you're going to have to re-greet Belle and her husband, Jonah, who happens to be a very important business partner of mine with me. He owns quite a lot of shares in Texas, you know,"

"Absolutely not!" Sharon shook her head adamantly, reminding me a hell lot of Jay, who was standing beside her.

"Why ever not?" Byron asked with a grin, "After all, what could be more aesthetically pleasing than my darling wife?"

With that, the strange couple took their leave.

The guys chuckled. "That's mom and dad for you," Jay sighed, "Always going on and on about many things and never having time to sit down and chill,"

"Well, I'll have to excuse myself for the moment as well," Leo apologized, "I can see my father and mother beckoning me over to them,"

The others and Chace said similar excuses, leaving me alone to fend for myself.

I wandered aimlessly in the vast ballroom, feeling lost and alone. I started cursing my luck.

"Hello."

The deep voice made me jump, and I turned around sharply. A black-haired guy around my age was grinning at me. If it weren't for the tell-tale cross piercing on his ear and his piercing eyes, I would've never guessed in a million years that it was Dashielle Stryker.

As I thought up of a quick excuse to escape from him, I couldn't help but be amazed at how much he has changed from when I first saw him. He sure cleans up good, what with the absence of nail polish, mostly black ripped-apart clothes and the vast collection of heavy stainless steel jewelry. He actually looks as good as the guys in the band.

"Hi?" I squeaked. My heart was hammering nervously as I wondered if Dash would recognize me any minute now.

"You're the one that everyone's been gossiping about all evening, aren't you?" Dash asked, smiling that proud and arrogant smile of his, "Lightning Kitty, the newbie of the Crying Babies,"

I smiled pleasantly. "Are you the official cult leader for the Sacrosanct Neophytes? Are you here to recruit members for your underground cult?"

Dash hummed in amusement. "Well, I can see we're going to have a pleasant relationship. My name's Dashielle Stryker. Dash, for short. I'm the bassist for Lucifer,"

I feigned surprise. "You play songs for Cinderella's evil stepmother's cat, Dash?"

Dash raised an eyebrow. "Well, you're the first one to think we're named after that gross-looking cat," What. I was wrong? "We're more based after the origins of the fallen Prince of Heaven, the Morningstar,"

I gave a non-commital shrug and a reluctant nod. "I... see," His eyes never left mine. Damn him for having good conversation etiquette! "I'm not really into biblical stuff. I go better with alternative rock and mainstream stuff,"

Dash shook his head. "Well, it's too bad a person who has a voice as good as yours is stuck in a sorry, baby band like the Crying Babies. It's also sad that you have to hide under that mask of yours,"

This guy really wants me to give him the finger really bad, doesn't he?

"Well, I'm a person who loves her privacy," I replied, the pleasant smile still plastered on my face, "I'm not too well-off enough to hire private security twenty-four-seven, you know,"

Dash seemed to study me closely. "You somehow seem familiar to me. Have I met you without your mask before?"

Oh crap. "No! Absolutely not!" I denied shakily, "I've already said I've never met you before, right?"

Dash's hand reached out to gesture at my hair. "But this hair... it's really familiar somehow..." A corner of his mouth curved upwards slyly.

"Lots of people have auburn hair with red highlights!" I was beginning to feel the telltale signs of a panic attack; my palms were sweaty and I could see flashes of white spots.

"Not in a conservative place like Sandfields," Dash retorted, "I get strange looks every now and then when I'm in my normal attire,"

He's cornered me with my realizing it!! I'm dead. Dead meat. "Er..."

"Lightning! Here you are!!" Chace! My hero! He's come to save the day!! "Oh, hello, Dashielle. Didn't see you here,"

Dash smirked. "Likewise," he answered back, "Lightning and I here were having a lovely chat before you rudely interrupted us,"

"Excuse moi, Dashielle, but I'm afraid your conversation has to end, because the boys require Lightning's presence,"

With that, he pulled me away from Dash. "Do they really require my presence?" I asked as we walked further away from Dash.

"Well, they wanted to talk about sleeping arrangements for tonight because Byron is hosting any guests who want to stay in this hotel tonight and I saw your troubled expression, so I decided to rescue you and bring you to them," Chace explained lengthily, "It's killing two birds with one stone, really,"

"Well, thank you for saving me anyway," I said happily, "'Cause Dash nearly found out who I was,"

"Be more careful next time, if you really want to keep your cover," Chace warned as we reached the boys.

Jay grinned as he saw me approaching. "Kitty! Where have you-?"

A sudden hush fell across the room. Jay looked up, following everyone else's gaze. I followed too, and realized we were supposed to be staring at the staircase.

A dark-haired woman descended the stairs like an angel of salvation; her iridescent white evening gown flowing along her steps like foamy waves in the sea.

Um, Megan Fox? I think I just found your sister.

Damn. She's hot. I had to agree with what the guys were saying. "I'm obligated to go greet her," Jay said somewhat half-heartedly as he caught his father waving him over, "See ya later,"

He jogged off towards his parents and Megan Fox's twin sister. "What's her name?" I asked, curiosity overpowering me.

The guys stared at me, jaws wide open. "You mean you haven't heard of her?" Jordan asked incredulously.

"Well, pardon me for being out of the loop," I said defensively, "If you must know, I've been quite busy with my early applications for the Art Institute in Boston. I have to still hand in more portfolios, you know,"

Leo chuckled. "Well, that person's the most in-demand actress right now. Her name's Meredith Ford. Not only does the Sacrosanct Neophytes deal with aspiring musicians; it's actually more of a talent agency,"

"She's a few years older than us, and people expect her and Jay to hook up one day soon," Jordan supplied helpfully, "They predict that the couple will be hotter than Katy Perry and Russel Brand or Miley Cyrus when she was with Nick Jonas. Or Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez. Or-,"

"Shut up, Jordan! I think she gets it already!" Tyson aimed a smack on Jordan's back, "Everyone knows you have a secret penchant for reading gossip magazines, so there's no need to advertise it!"

"What secret penchant? That's bull!"

For some strange reason, hearing about Jay and Meredith kind of annoyed me. I shook it off and just tried to enjoy myself for the rest of the night.

-

"I'm sick. I feel very sick," Jay moaned as I helped him along the corridors of the hotel, towards the room he booked for himself.

"Of course you'd feel sick," I scolded, "You downed ten shots of hard liquor at one go! What made you do something so reckless?"

'Twas true, because while I had been talking to the very nice male models - who aren't as stupid as they look, I discovered - I saw Jay sitting at the bar, drinking himself silly. Did something happen with Meredith?

"Kitty, don't nag now," Jay continued moaning, "My head's killing me and I feel like throwing up!!"

"You're almost eighteen and still act like a kid!" I continued as I pulled the card key open and swiped it across the door, opening it and lugging Jay inside, "Now go do your throwing up!!"

Jay obeyed, and as he did so, I ripped open the only pack of complimentary toothbrush and squeezed some toothpaste onto the bristles. Handing it to Jay, I said, "Here. Once you're done, brush your teeth,"

I went out to get Jay's duffel bag from Leo's room. I bid him a good night and promised to make sure Jay was all right before heading home. I went back to said person's room to find him draped across the king-sized bed. It's like this morning all over again.

He really wants to have liver damage, doesn't he?

"Jay," I said, poking the half-dead brunette, "Jay,"

I think Jay must've really been drunk, because he started giggling like a girl. "Hi Kitty!!" he slurred.

"What the-?" before I could complete my sentence, Jay put an arm around my neck and planted his lips unto mine.

I can barely describe what happened next. I got very, very angry. Like, volcano-eruption angry. I screamed like a banshee, slapping the drunk Jay across the face. He got angry too.

"What the hell, Kitty! What did you do that for!?" he cried as he instantly became sober from that slap I gave him.

I let out a strangled cry and stomped towards the bathroom, grabbing the toothpaste and toothbrush. I remembered that Jay had previously used the latter and I did not want another oral connection to him, so I furiously squeezed the toothpaste onto my finger and vigorously rubbed at my teeth.

As soon as I was done, I went back into the room to see a fuming Jay. I glared at him one last time before slamming the door shut in his face as I left his room.

Chapter Fourteen

"Cut!! Let's try that scene again!!"

Here we are, all dressed up (well, except si moi) for the official start of the music video shooting. We've been here in the location - which, by the way, is a super-posh and lush private hilly estate which we rented for the shooting. The owners were more than happy to lend their land to us. Rich people. - for approximately five hours already.

Since nine in the morning.

Seriously, who wants to wake up at nine for some stupid shoot on a Sunday?

We've filmed a couple of scenes already, and those took just about an hour and a half. My sense of time has been warped from all the hubbub going on around me.

Before that, we had to wait for the set up, then the make-up and dressing up, which took about two hours, then lunch break which took thirty minutes, then the scenes. Everything took just the right amount of time to be done, so I don't understand why is it so hard just to take a single dialogue that we've been going over and over for almost an hour.

And my God, Jay's lines are so damned simple, I could recite it in my sleep.

Well, not literally, but you get the point, right?

All the guy's gotta do is to say, "Please. Don't leave me. I love you,", with the last sentence ending in a dramatic movie-whisper, so therefore, I have no idea why Jay has to keep on getting cuts from the director, Halley.

I looked on at the flower field - which is strangely flowering and not barren and filled with snow or ice in the middle of January. What's up with the climate here? I asked a passing techie and he told me about the field of heaters installed underground. I blanched at this. - and watched as Jay sighed and stood up straight from the bent position he was in, offering a hand to a gorgeous woman with auburn locks sitting in front of him.

"I'm sorry, Tracy. I'm afraid I'm not really good at this acting business," Jay said apologetically with an equally heart-melting smile of apology.

Not good at acting my ass.

Tracy, who is a professional actress, just smiled a genuine smile in return. "It's okay, Jay. I understand that it's quite hard to please seasoned directors when you're just a rookie at acting,"

"Thank you for being such an understanding person," he said, an all-too familiar tone inching into his voice, "Women with such compassionate attitudes are truly alluring. It doesn't help one's heart, especially when they're as beautiful as you. You set a young heart like mine on fire."

Where does he get these lines?

I watched with my mouth hung slightly open. Albeit the fact that he's always like this and the fact that Leo is about hundred fold more cheesy and corny, but why isn't he able to pull a freaking scene like, 'I love you' off!?

Some things never cease to amaze me.

Halley looked like she was about to kill someone. She pointed her assistant director towards the house, and then pointing over at Leo and Lance, who then all went towards the directed area - most probably shooting a separate scene -  before calling Jay over, and me being me, I could hear a distinct echo of their conversation amidst the busy set.

"Jayden, I understand that you're quite new at this, but please try to make it work," she said, holding his arm and shaking it in a pleading manner.

Jay has this look on his face; it was kind of like he was frustrated with himself. "I'm sorry. It's just that I know you told me to be dramatic and heart-broken and stuff, but it's weird saying that to someone I barely know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair in irritation, "This acting business is really not my speed,"

Halley's brows knitted together, tilting her head downwards for a bit. She fiddles with her black wire-rimmed spectacles, which shows, as I've observed, that she's deep in thought.

After a few moments passed, she seemed to have come up with something, because she had been scanning the whole set, giving it a 360 degrees turn when she went, "You!"

The annoying buzz that has been in the air ever since the filming started stopped, and all activity ceased as the head honcho of the production has done the cliche 'You!' eureka thing.

I was looking for the muse for sudden inspiration, when I realized everyone was staring right at me. Then, belatedly, I realized that Halley was pointing at me.

The first thing I thought was, "How rude,", then the next thing was, "Shouldn't I be wondering why she's pointing at me?" 

Good question. Why eureka and point at me?

Halley strode towards me, pulling Jay along with her. "Lightning, I want you to get on set with Jay and read Tracy's lines. Well, there aren't any lines anyway. Just look like you're upset and have deep conflicts within you and gaze at Jay while you're doing that."

What. The Hell.

SHE WANTS ME TO WHAT!?

"Why should I??" I protested, "I'm not taking this mask off!!"

I mean, all they assured me was that I'd be in the video footage with my mask on when we're just singing and stuff like that. No acting at all.

Halley held up a hand. "Okay, it's okay," she said, "I've come up with the conclusion that you should take Tracy's place as Jay says his lines, since you're the only girl here whom Jay is familiar with, so he'll be quite comfortable with you,"

I opened my mouth again. "But I don't even remotely look like Tracy,"

It's true. Where I'm just an average five foot four, Tracy's a whooping five foot nine. And as far as I'm concerned, my auburn doesn't actually match the deep crimson of Tracy's hair. And we shouldn't forget the body. Yep.

Halley continued smiling. "That's all good too, because we can digitally replace you with Tracy from the scenes we took just now, so now will you do it?"

I gave up my fight against the director, knowing that I won't be able win. "Yeah. Okay. Sure."

Halley clapped her hands together in delight. "Okay! Get the cameras ready to roll guys!!" she ordered, "Kitty, please get on set! You too Jay!!"

I trudged towards the field, which looked strange with all the out-of-place lighting equipment there. Jay was already waiting, a slight smirk on his face. "Hey, Kitty," he said in his usual sultry voice. Did I mention I hate rock stars with voices like that? I do, I do. "I'm sorry you have to do this,"

I let out a sigh. "Well, this is an obligation. I have to do it," I muttered, "Anyways, I just hope it'll be over soon,"

We took our places - I kind of know everything already having watched the same scene being repeated about a billion times - and Halley took her place in her director's chair. "And action!"

So what we see on TV is sometimes the real thing. Interesting.

I just stood there, staring dumbly at Jay and watched as he adopted a heart-wrenching facial expression. He walked slowly towards me, his eyes burning with intensity. It's kind of bone-chilling in a bad way.

"Please... don't leave me...." he said. His voice had lost its usual tone of confidence and was replaced with a creepily genuine tone of heart-break. He pursed his lips, hesitating, before looking at me straight in the eyes. "I love you..." he whispered.

Okay, now this is officially scaring the living daylights out of me. I considered running away before things could get even more scarier when Halley shouted, "Cut! It's a wrap! Good job!"

I'm not sure if standing there staring at some guy who's actually as good as a seasoned actor is a definition of a good job, but at least Jay's got the scene down pat. Who knew acting could be this scare-inducing? I will never laugh at people with terrible acting skills again. It seems that acting is a really difficult skill to attain.

I left the set as Halley walked past me, towards to Jay to congratulate him for finally being able to take the scene. My thoughts were - obviously - plagued with Jay's face, the same words he'd said earlier repeating in my mind like a tape recorder stuck on replay.

This is about the second time Jay's done this to me. You know, the whole 'words-he-said-and-they-keep-repeating-themselves-in-my-mind' thing.

I allowed myself to be led away by Chace, who's going to dress me up for my real scenes, towards the trailer parked nearby.

-

I sat in a make-up chair, allowing Chace to gain control of my hair and listened to the cynical but begrudgingly lovable stylist chatter away.

"So one of my girls was screaming her head off when she saw what one of the customer's dogs had done to another customer's hair dye mix. It was quite a disaster, really, then-"

"Chace?"

The French-American stopped his monologue flow. "Yes, Kaitlyn?"

"You remember that day when you came over to Archdale?" I asked, "You said you had something to tell me. I want to know what it was."

I heard Chace suck in his breath, dropping strands of my hair that he had been holding up between his fingers. I looked into the mirror, and saw Chace looking back at me. "Well?"

"I'll tell you, but you will never ever repeat this to anyone else," he warned, "Comprends?"

"Comprends," I nodded in understanding, wondering what was Chace going to tell me that was so super-secret.

Chace started fiddling with my hair again, picking up a bottle of leave-in conditioner and uncapping it with ease. "Well, you know how I'm a homo, right?"

"Isn't homo a derogatory term?"

"Is there even such a word?"

"Yes. I checked with my English teacher and ten other dictionaries in the library. I asked Lance, too,"

"I have no idea what you're doing so much work just to look up a single word for, but I'll leave it. Besides, it's not degrading if the homo in question applies it to himself."

"Oh. Okay. Go on."

"Well, I've never actually been interested in a particular male, just interested in them in general,"

"I see."

"Well, the thing is..."

"Yes?"

"I'm gay."

I turned my head a little, giving Chace a look. "I believe we have established that fact a few seconds ago."

Chace shrugged. "Well, I'm not done with my sentence yet," he continued, and with a nonchalant expression, "I'm gay for Tyson,"

His last words shot through my ears as most of his words usually did, but then the sentence did a back-up and went back into my ears, registering themselves into my neurons. "You what!?"

He shook the can, spraying the conditioner into my hair. "As I said, I have a thing for Tyson Gyles, your fellow bandmate,"

O-kay. This is awkward. "Well, um, wow," I said stupidly, not really knowing what to say, "I thought you had this thing for Leo?"

Chace chuckled. "Leon's a handsome young man. He makes practically every girl's and gay's heart flutter,"

"Accordées," I muttered darkly. Hanging around Chace has made me pick up a few French words.

"Tyson is handsome too, but not so much as Leon," he continued, "But I've known him a long time, and he's got substance,"

I blinked and shook my head slightly. "Well, um, as far as I'm concerned, my gaydar isn't setting off when I'm near Tyson,"

"That's the problem, mon ami," he said, "And as well as the fact I'd be a cradle robber to do so, if Tyson were gay,"

"How old are you?" I asked, surprised, "Cradle robbers are defined as people who are around ten or more years older than the other party,"

"Really? Is that so?" Chace asked, brightening up, "I'm only twenty-two,"

"Well, at least you have nothing like age to worry about," I said, brightening up as well, "All you have to worry about now is- oh,"

...I forgot. Tyson's not even gay.

"Now I know why you were so troubled that day," I said with quiet understanding, "You what, realized your feelings for him or something?"

Chace's face came to life again. "Oui! Oui! It actually so happened that I-,"

I held up my hand. "Actually, your realization episode is definitely something you should keep to yourself," I announced, "You should practice abstinence when it comes to giving info to other people,"

Chace held up a laminated sad-smiley-face picture which he took from a table beside him, something which I recommended to him after I told him never to pout ever again. "You're mean,"

"Hello? I'm Kaitlyn Hunter, have you only just met me today-?"

"Okay, okay, I get it,"

I sighed. "You're not the only plagued with thoughts, you know," I mumbled, standing up and following Chace towards the clothes rack.

"Oui? Is there trouble in your love life?"

I shot the stylist a dirty look as he innocently went through the rack, looking for my costume/clothes. I've lot count on how many times he's asked me if I've gotten a new boyfriend, and when I say no, he gives me a lecture on how I'll die a lonely old biddy with forty cats.

Sometimes, I don't like him.

"No," I said firmly, "Rather, you know how sucky Jay was at the acting part until I stepped in, right?"

"Yes, yes I do. Jay was quite troubled with the fact that he couldn't do any romance scenes properly when speaking, the poor boy," Chace said as he held up a shimmery tank top, examining it and then putting it back.

"Well, at least he got it right after a few hundred takes," I commented, "Putting that aside, I never knew acting could be so... convincing and realistic,"

Chace's hands stopped moving. He looked up at me with a questioning look. "Convincing and realistic?" he echoed.

"Well, when Jay said those lines, I really thought he meant it," I explained, and with a defiant look, I added, "Not that I think he's in love with me or anything. No way in Hell."

An enigmatic smile played on the American-Frenchman's lips as he started sifting through the rack again, pulling out a shirt and a cropped vest. "Bien sûr. I understand."

A knock came from outside the door. "Kitty? Are you ready??" a voice called, "We're about to start filming!"

"Coming!!" I answered, as Chace grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the changing room.

"You know which is which, yes?" Chace asked with a sly smile.

I nodded with a sour look. I don't understand why Chace still thinks I'm a fashion illiterate. I still remember the look he gave me when he saw me in the recording room with the guys the other day. Total horror.

He had instantly burst in, mid-recording, and grabbed me, not caring that my ears were nearly torn off from the headphones I was wearing and marched me up into a spare room, a bag of 'emergency clothes' in hand.

Emergency clothes my foot.

-

I can't help but feel a tad bit nervous as I walk towards the big oak tree where the band's going to shoot footage at. The guys were waiting, fiddling with their instruments, and I could see the filming crew adjusting their equipment.

Jay was tuning his guitar with Leo beside him, and he seemed to have heard me approach, because he looked up with a supercilious smile, saying, "Hey, Kitty. You look pretty cute,"

"You're good at telling lies too, huh?" I asked with a slight scowl as I took my position in front of the microphone stand.

Leo chuckled as he pulled his guitar strap over his chest. "She's got you there, mate,"

Jay faked a wounded look. "Your misanthropy stabs my heart," he proclaimed theatrically, "Since when have you become such a cynic?"

"Since forever, Stanford," I replied dryly.

"Now don't be such a killjoy," he said with a wink.

Oh. Now I wonder why my heart just skipped a beat there. I really should follow a solid meal schedule. It's not good for my body. My heart did not skip a beat just because Jay winked at me. My heart did not skip a beat just because Jay winked at me. My heart did no-

"Kitty!! You're here!!" Halley exclaimed, "Now we can start!!"

My heart definitely will not do superhuman crap just because of a lame, corny wink.

"Sure," I smiled and clasped my hands over the mike, "Ready to sing whenever you are,"

You know how good the sound quality is in music videos, right? It's because they lip-sync to the lyrics and add in
the recorded soundtrack later, but since I seriously suck at said ability, they've decided to let us sing, record, wipe the sound out then replace it with the studio version.

Music-biz people are seriously talented geniuses. I kneel before them.

Wait. Actually, I'd rather just shake their hands, because I have dignity. And dignity usually disappears when you kneel down before someone.

Jordan and Leo started playing the intro bars, and Jay picked up on the melody, with Tyson
drumming on his kit. I recognized the cue in the song and opened my mouth to start singing.

I wind back to the past

Don't really remember much 

But there was one thing I'd trust 

And it was a person who was nonesuch. 

I closed my eyes, feeling the music taking over me and dominating my mind. I opened my eyes again, looking straight into the camera, trying my best not to feel weirded out and continued singing normally.

You left me all alone,
With your face
Haunting my dreams every night,
'Till I've forgotten who you are.


And as I grow older, 
The memories start to fade away,
But the only thing that stays,
Is the day you went away.


How could you just ignore me,
Giving me empty promises,
When you knew I'd be waiting,
But instead you stepped out of my life's premises.

I sneaked a glance at Jay, who had joined in in the singing, and he looked directly at me, and I saw a smile creeping up onto his face. I couldn't help but smile as well, and he leaned over, sharing my mike and singing the lyrics.

Although I know now that this song's actually about Gabriel, I can't help but still feel sorry for Lance. He's still searching for Gabriel, not knowing that he's actually found him already. I guess his lyrics are real, because he can't even recognize Gabriel anymore.

Belatedly, I just realized how slightly complicated things are right now for Gabriel. Poor guy. I've already tried asking him to tell Lance who he - Gabriel, that is - is, but Gabriel refuses, saying that Lance has probably forgotten him.

I'd like to tell him of my conversation with Lance, but then I'm not exactly in the position to do that, therefore, I will stick my nose back into my own business and not park my nose into other places.

Damn. I should've told Jay and Leo that on day one when they met me!

I hate my chronic illness of delayed thoughts.

I looked at Jay again, and the scene from before replayed itself out of the blue.

"I love you..."

ARGH!! I shall not be affected by what he did not really mean. I shall not be affected by what he did not really mean. I shall not be affected by what he did not really mean.

"Love you..."

I believe I also have a chronic illness for delayed memory-triggers.

Remind me to call a therapist when I get home later, because I think my brain's actually conspiring against me. Why can't my brain behave, like other people's?

Chapter Thirteen

References: Apple's iPod Touch and the Tapulous company. Really, anything that you recognize here.

--------------------------------------------

"I was beginning to think Lance whisked you off somewhere, drugged you and had his way with you,"

"You just think too much," I snarled back at Leo, who was grinning jovially in Lance's and my direction as he stood at the front door of the cottage.

"Does he, now?" Jordan snickered from behind Leo. I feel very tempted to give him the finger, but instead made do with a glare.

Lance and I had gone back to the room to find that the others were already back at the cottage, waiting for us, so we went back there. Jay, apparently, had been worried, because Lance and I walked in on him throwing a fit, demanding that a search party be sent out to go find us at once.

Now, I wonder whose fault is it that we didn't know they went ahead back to the cottage, huh?

Jay let out a not-so subtle fake cough. He had been rather embarrassed when we walked right up to him, just as he was threatening to kill someone if the aforementioned search party was not going to be sent out. "My dad called. He says we're invited to his label's dinner party next month," he said loudly, "We're gonna be signed with the label, Sacrosanct Neophytes on that day, so it's basically a debut party,"

I repeated his words in my mind. Label. Signed. Sacrosanct Neophytes. Debut party.

"The hell?" I felt dumb and confused, "We're going pro? Since when? I've never heard of any plan of being signed before,"

"Oh, crap," Jordan let out a low hiss; clearly he just remembered something, judging by the look on his face.

Leo sighed. "Everyone, inside. We've got to clear this misunderstanding,"

-

"So?" I looked at each and every one of the guys with a (hopefully) withering look, "What's the business with Sacrosanct Neophytes?"

I have a handful of questions to ask them, but I guess I'll leave out the one where I ask them about the label's name. Sacrosanct Neophytes. Sounds like a freakin' cult rather than a place that caters up-and-coming artists.

Might as well call it Holy Beginners.

"Well, my dad, Byron Dominic, is the president of the Sacrosanct Neophytes. The label's actually quite famous, really," Jay explained, "He was rather adamant about my forming a band with the boys, since the entertainment business is no walk in the park, so he made me promise that if I did anything remotely commercial under the name of the band, he'd have us signed with his label. You should know that Lucifer is signed with him as well, sadly,"

Annoyance bubbled within me. "To hell with Lucifer. Why is it that you guys never told me!?"

"We..." Tyson looked sheepish, scooting to the farthest part of the room, away from me.

"...forgot?" Jordan finished with a nervous shrug, as his fingers twirled around the cords of his headphones.

"I see," My tone dripped with venom, "And I've been in the band for, what, two months? And you've forgotten every time you see me or something? A fact as important as this shouldn't be left out!"

"We'd understand if you want to leave the band now, of course," Leo added hastily, "No one's going to blame you if you do. It's our mistake to have forgotten about this agreement of ours,"

"We were on national television!! It practically screams commercial, goddammit!! What's his number? I'd like to speak to Mr. Do-," I cut myself short from my diva fit, "Byron Dominic?"

A pregnant pause ensued, as the tension in the air got heavier by the second, and everyone gave Jay reluctant looks. A dark look seemed to ghost the guitarist's features momentarily, but maybe it's just my rage taking a toll on my mental coherence.

"Let's just say some mothers aren't as good as they seem," Jay muttered, almost to himself. I think I saw sliver of hatred flash across his face, before it was replaced with a deceptive look of querying, "So, the label, Kitty. You in or out?"

Well, it's definitely the rage playing tricks on my mind.

I tapped my foot impatiently. "In-between," I replied, my words laced with heavy sarcasm, "Honestly, I have to ask my parents, then there's school..."

"Catch," Jordan called out, tossing me a cordless phone, "Go on and call your parents,"

"The Sacrosanct Neophytes are willing to let us continue our studies," Tyson added, somewhat testily as he tentatively inched back to the centre of the room, "In fact, they encourage it. They pay for the tuition of the artists that can't afford the fees,"

I fumbled with the phone in my hands. I honestly had no idea whether I wanted to be a professional singer or not. I still had a problem with not wearing a mask on stage, then there's my career plan to be an artist. "I..."

Jay stood up from where he was sitting and walked towards me, patting my head. "Tell you what, you join, as Lightning Kitty, okay? By the time you graduate and decide you don't want to have a music career, you can leave the label and the band,"

Leo reached out and took my hand in his, giving it a comforting squeeze. "You can leave any time you like," he agreed, "We won't force you to stay with us. After all, it was us who talked you into joining the band."

"What about Gabriel?" I asked, "Is he going to still be our manager or something?"

All of us looked at Gabriel, whom Tyson had finally chosen to sit next to. "I have no qualms about this decision. I was planning to take a major in public relations anyway," he said, "Helping you guys out is pretty good experience, actually,"

"Therefore," Jay said with a grand flourish, "Our only hitch is you, Kitty dear,"

Egad (Heh, I've always wanted to say that). They've planned everything out so elaborately already. And it doesn't help that he makes it sound like it's my fault.

"Fine. You better keep your word, all right?" I warned, hoping that the menace in my words was loud and clear, "I'll sign with you, as the Lightning Kitty. I'll be with you until graduation. Then I'll decide whether I'll stay or not,"

The guys all erupted into a frenzied cheer as they started jumping around, whooping and slapping high-fives all around, as if they won some football game.Thankfully, they did not touch me. I think I'll not be able to stand their mini-celebratory moment. It's too testosterone-filled for me, thank you very much.

I did a mental count of the guys, out of sheer joblessness. Leo, Jay, Gabriel, Lance, Tyson and Jordan...wait. Where's-?

"Chace?" I asked, "Where's Chace?"

Tyson raised his hand. "Chace said he had to go back to his salon. A client of his had booked an appointment," he informed, "It's too bad, really. I asked him if he'd like to join us for a bite before heading home,"

I dismissed this without a second thought. Busy Chace's always busy Chace, after all. I've decided to keep this from my parents, since I don't think I'll take the boys' offer for a music career. I mean, I didn't work my ass off for nothing to get a spot in the Art Institute of Boston. Yes, I know, it's so close to my former home.

"Okay, since this case is solved, we shall pack up and go home, yes?" I asked.

-

I really should find something to do in my spare time. Sitting in the van waiting for the others with Gabriel, who is engrossed with university application forms, really have got me feeling like a jobless freak. I'm thinking I'd like to save up for an iPod Touch. I heard that Jay's gonna have the Tapulous company put some of the band's tracks as playable songs when the band's famous enough, so I'd really like to see how that goes. I wonder how the other artists who have their songs put on the game feel?

"So what did you and Lance talk about?"

I jolted from my 'When-I-get-an-iPod Touch' reverie, startled by Gabriel's sudden and not-related-to-him question. "What? Whaddya mean?"

"You and Lance talked about his being an orphan, right?"

"Well, yeah, something like that..."

"So, what did you talk about?"

Somehow, I'm getting concerned with the idea that Gabriel might be an obssessive-Lance-stalker. I mean, what with the creepy sidelong glances he gives stalked-person-in-question when he thinks no one's looking and now the question that doesn't really give him any benefit. Well, seeing as they act like total strangers most of the time, it's as if...

"Are you gay?" I blurted.

Go me.

Note the heavy sarcasm used there.

"Wha?" Gabriel's obviously shocked by my tactless question.

I could feel the familiar creep of warmth on my cheeks. "Sorry. I know it's idiotic of me to say this, but I swear, I'm not a homophobe or anything like that!"

I almost felt like crying and slapping myself for asking him such a stupid and rude question, when Gabriel suddenly burst out laughing. "What? You're not angry?" I asked, puzzled by his way-too-sudden reaction, "I mean, I asked you such an insensitive question!"

"Well, what in the first place made you ask such a question?" Gabriel asked with his usual mega-watt smile on his face. It's so blinding; I think I need a pair of sunglasses.

I nervously laced my fingers together, the words forming in my mind and exiting my mouth in an unsteady stuttering stream. "W-well, y-you see, I see you l-looking at Lance when you think no one's l-looking and now you're as-asking me weird questions..."

I dramatically held my breath as Gabriel pieced my near-incoherent words together and he ran a hand through his super-thick and soft-looking hair.

Dude, now is so not the right time to be making me jealous.

"Well," he began, a rather embarrassed look on his face, "It must've been strange,"

I wouldn't say strange, but it was creepy all right. Stalkers are not on the top of my favorite people list. "Not really..."

"Actually, the reason why I watch Lance like that is not because I'm gay. I'm into girls, thank you very much," he justified, "I just do so because I've known him before,"

"I see, I see..." I said, nodding like a bobble-headed doll, "Wait, what?"

-

So here I am, sitting on a pretty comfy sofa, mask on, listening to the conversation Jay, Leo and the rest of the band are having with this uber-sexy-supermodel-material blonde woman with hefty assets. As a girl, I am very much intimidated by her, but that's not the reason why I am not in the conversation. That's just because I'm too mysterious (i.e. a masked person) to be part of the music video cast.

The woman, Halley Vaughn, is a well-known music video director who has directed many award-wnning MVs (none of which I'm familiar with, pardon my music illiteracy) who works under a contract with Jay's dad's company, the Sacrosanct Neophytes.

Since the news of the debut party, the moment we crossed into Sandfields, we've been quite busy. Jay's dad demanded (via phone-call conference) that an album be made in two weeks (he's a spartan, no kidding, and I haven't even met him) as well as an MV of the hit single which they released without our knowing (apparently Mr. Eccentric-Billionaire sneaked into Jay's room and took the first track we recorded since I joined the band, Blast From My Past).

Yes, it's a lot to take in a space of one day. In fact, I almost had another fainting fit.

And here we are, presently talking to Halley about the script for the MV.

"Jayden, what do you think of this storyline?" Halley asked, handing over her clipboard to Jay, pointing at some place on the board.

Winking, Jay replied her with a, "It's Jay, if you're feeling informal. And I'm afraid you'll have to ask the songwriter, not me,"

He passed the clipboard over to a reticent and confused Lance and dropped into the empty space beside me.

"You didn't write the song?" I asked, surprised as I automatically smacked Jay's arm away from snaking around my shoulders.

Jay made a face as he rested his chin on his hand. "Well, I may be an extremely talented musician and song-writer, but I give credit to my boys accordingly,"

Cue the grin.

It looks like sometimes Mr. Narcissist is quite the gentleman after all. "But since I'm dripping with good looks," Jay continued, "I'll obviously be the lead male in the video,"

I take back my words.

Obviously, someone has still got to learn a few lessons in humility. Anyways, it makes sense that Lance wrote the song. So it's not about a childhood love, at all. It's about a childhood friend.

Although now I know this fact, I'm pretty sure they're gonna have a guy-girl love story theme, since it's really up to the director herself to make the final decisions. She's just asking opinions on her portrayal of the song.

Although it has been like, three weeks nearing to a month, it's still really shocking to know that Gabriel's the childhood friend that Lance was talking about. Even more so to know that Lance doesn't know that Gabriel is.

I wonder why?