The Rock Kitty

Chapter Seventeen

2011-03-18T04:34:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-14T02:44:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-23T06:01:00.000-07:00

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

2010-02-05T06:11:00.000-08:00

"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

2010-01-03T04:52:00.000-08:00

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?

Chapter Twelve

2009-12-13T04:58:00.000-08:00

References: Neon Trees and 3OH!3 are definitely not mine.

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

Okay, so being adopted is not such a big deal, but everyone (excluding me, that is...) looked so...

I don't know, shocked, maybe?

Oh, and tight-lipped. We mustn't forget that.

The interview was cut short, and almost immediately I was practically picked up by Jay and Leo and the next thing I knew, I sat in the room, pouting and sulking with all my might. I peeked a glance over to Lance, who was seated on the floor, brooding (with all of his might too, I might add). See, I'm not the only one who's upset with this whole thing of keeping things a secret from me. I think.

"Tell me."

Leo looked up from the schedule tacked on the wall. "Tell you what, love?"

I narrowed my eyes into a glare. "Don't 'tell you what, love?' me! Something is up, and why won't you tell me??" I hissed in a harsh whisper.

I heard a chair being dragged right to my side and a heavy weight fell upon it. "We won't tell you, 'cos it's not our place to," Jay whispered into my ear.

I gave a little shudder and inched my chair away from Jay's chair. "Don't come near me. Freak,"

A hurt, puppy-like look appeared instantly on Jay's face. "Aw... you called me a freak,"

I rolled my eyes. "Need I remind you? You're not supposed to be womanizing girls whom you have a professional relationship with, 'specially when this particular girl happens to be me,"

"I wasn't womanizing you," Jay retorted, eyebrow arched. Then, he narrowed his eyes somewhat se- no! I'm not supposed to describe this jerk using the word 'sexy'! That's going against my rules! "But if you insist... I probably will..."

I shrieked and jumped off my chair as Jay chuckled behind his hands in a somewhat evil manner and Leo simply muffled his laughter. "Leo!!" I cried hysterically, "Why the hell're you laughing!?"

"I can't help it!" Leo was still laughing, "You can't seriously be afraid of him, can you?"

"Yeah," With a wonderful (Note the sarcasm here) sense of timing, Jordan came inside, back from rounding up all the instruments, "Jay's a chick magnet, all right, but if you've been immune to all our charms, you're pretty much invincible already. You can't get seduced easily, I'll give you that."

Wow. And here I was thinking Jordan had a sense of pride that matched Jay's. He's pretty quick to give up, I can see. I should get him a sticker that says 'PRIDELESS' for his bass guitar.

"And that doesn't mean I'm giving up," Jordan continued with raised eyebrows, as if he had read my mind. Damn him! "I'm merely bowing away, since Jay's got dibs on your first. After all, as the saying goes, there are plenty of fish in the sea,"

"That is pretty much saying you gave up," I deadpanned, giving him one of my pointed looks.

Jordan gave me an inquiring look. "Ah? You want me to engage you in a game of cat and mouse with me?"

"Or me?" Jay added, smiling that dangerous smile of his.

My God, I am once again being hit with torrents of flirtatious remarks! This is so infuriating!!

"Neither," I replied with a disinterested tone. I stood up and remembered why we were in the waiting room in the first place. "Lance!"

I walked over to where the bookworm was brooding. As I looked at the keyboardist, I noticed how he looked so defenseless, sitting on the ground, back hunched over and hugging his knees. I really wonder why aren't the guys worried about him. Well, I haven't seen Gabriel since he mysteriously disappeared from bringing us back into the waiting room. Come to think of it, I haven't seen Chace, too. And I was gonna ask Chace the reason for why he looks so not 'fabulous' today as well.

Heh. Take that, Mr. OMG-YOU-SUCK-AT-DRESSING-YOURSELF!!

I gave myself a mental kick for being childish. Chace's not even here. I knelt down to check Lance's facial expression. "Lance??"

Lance, previously deep in thought, looked up and met my eyes with his. I instantly remembered the strange display of tenderness last night and my face felt prickly; a sure sign of blushing. Lance merely blinked and asked, "May I help you?"

I faked a laugh. "Oh, nothing really!" Then I stopped the fake laughter. Honestly, I really should be more open. I mean, if I keep up the fake laughs, it's really gonna kill me and make me into Barbie Kaitlyn. "Would you... like to talk about anything?"

Lance seemed to consider this option, as a thoughtful look crossed his face. "I'm not sure. Would you believe me if I said it was complicated?"

I was taken aback with what he had said. I slowly nodded, my curiousity winning over my reluctance to be near him. After all, this is the guy who, um... gave me a blanket and a pat on the head.

Yeah, now that I think about it, it sounds kind of stupid when you put it that way.

I looked over at the others, who were not-so-discreetly staring and trying to hear our conversation. "Somewhere quieter?" I suggested, shooting dirty looks at the others.

"You should go change first, though," Lance replied, nodding and standing up. He held out his hand, and I accepted it and he helped me onto my feet.

"I'll be along in a few. Go wait outside," I said, getting into the makeshift changing booth and grabbing a random pair of jeans and the airbrushed t-shirt from before as I went along.

I decided to not lose the pretty flats, though, because they were absolutely gorgeous, despite the fact that Chace had verbally abused me then practically forced me into them.

What? I've been deprived of girly privileges all my life, but that doesn't mean I grew up like a boy. I actually, if this surprises you, I happen to like girly stuff. So there.

I walked out of the booth, and the guys were still staring at me. "What?" I asked, defensively raising my metaphorical hackles.

"Where are you going with Lance?" Leo asked, seemingly mildly interested.

"You didn't want to explain. So he's going to do it. See ya," I replied, getting out before any of the others got a chance to ask. Hah! Take that! That's for keeping things a secret from me!

-

Lance regarded me with a small smile and led me to a lounge area where prospective parents usually sat while they waited for prospective children. Since there was a big buffet (graciously hosted by the company that conducted the fundraiser) outside, the lounge was pretty much empty. We sat at a small corner, and an air of seriousness descended upon Lance's aura.

I felt rather awkward, because Lance looked dead serious, as if he were about to tell me that there was some kind of national crisis going on.

"So..." he stared at me. Hard.

"So..." I stared back. Harder.

"What's so bad about being an orphan? Why'd you look so upset back there?" I asked in a hurry, afraid that Lance would withdraw back into his sulk-shell.

Lance paused and sighed. "Actually, I don't mind being an ex-orphan, really,"

Wait. What?

"Actually, it's something to do with what happened when I was an orphan,"

Wait. Come again?

"Have you ever considered, or even wondered why the band has such a strange name?"

Wait. WHAT!?

I frowned with annoyance. "Can you stop confusing me with those cryptic sentences and talk normally?" I complained, "And stop asking so many questions - I obviously have no clue of what you're talking about. And no, I've never stopped to consider the name of the band,"

Lance gave a chuckle and leaned back into the sofa easily. "All right. I'm sorry. I'll talk normally, as you wish." he said, "The Lightning Devils... it's a weird name, isn't it?"

I shrugged in my usual non-commital fashion. "I guess so. But there are weirder band names than that, though. Take Neon Trees or 3OH!3 for example,"

Lance laced his fingers together, putting on a pose of contemplation. "Well, that's true. Since Jay's the leader of this band, it's weird he chose a name like The Lightning Devils, is it not?"

Wait. He's right. For someone who takes pride in being 'awesome', 'hot' and whatnot, the name the Lightning Devils is kinda corny. "I guess so," my eyes narrowed in a reflex reaction to the picture of Jay that inevitably popped up into my mind's eye.

Lance had a weird, albeit not creepy, faraway look in his eyes. "'Lightning' because it was a flash of inspiration to form a band and to get attention people around us and 'Devils' because we're seeking attention by enticing people with our music,"

Who knew Jay was that kiddy and idealistic?

"We - Jay, Leo, Jordan, Tyson and I - met each other in the seventh grade. We were arguing and fighting that time, and got sent for detention. The teacher left us to sort out our problems, and then Jay was the one who started talking first.

"He said, 'You guys are a sad bunch, you know that? Why're you so dull?' Then all of us started talking, and suddenly Jay decided, 'I know! Let's form a band!'" Lance continued, "'All of us have something we want, right? Why not form a band to obtain what we each want?' Then we decided that from then, we would be the Lightning Devils."

Well... that's... interesting...

I never knew that the formation of the band had such a heartwarming story, to be honest. I thought Jay would've been like, "Hey! We're all handsome! We're popular! And talented to boot! Why not form the world's most hottest band? So hot that we could surpass supernova standards!"

I volunteered this idea and Lance gave me a guilty look. "I... sort of edited everything Jay said, actually."

I. Knew. It. Everything I thought Jay would say was obviously dead on.

"But what I told you is what he said, too!" Lance hurriedly pressed on to say. Then, he had a sad, sad look on his face. "My reason for being in this band..."

The mood was definitely mournful right now. My happy-go-luckiness is practically suffocating from Lance's radiating emotions. But looking at the usually stoic, calm and emotionless keyboardist being so... upset? It made me feel sympathetic and sorry for him.

"Your reason?" I echoed. Gosh, the Lightning Devils is like some sort of epic cult or something.

"I did say that I was an orphan from here, right?" Lance asked, looking at me, "I had a friend here. We were close, maybe even like blood brothers. We agreed to be adopted as brothers. But then he disappeared one day, without telling me, and because adoption files are strictly confidential, I didn't know where he was taken. I was angry. Livid. Enraged. No one bothered to tell me, not even he himself..."

Lance paused with the tiniest of sighs, and ran a hand through his dark hair, gleaming a subtle navy from the rays pouring in through the windows. "As ridiculous and ludicrous as it is, I want to find him,"

Stunned was probably the right word to use to describe the way I felt. Really, I had no idea Lance was carrying that sort of emotional baggage around with him. He always looks so calm and collected; like nothing was able to faze him from his slow pace of life.

Guess you really can't judge a book by its cover.

Well, at least now I know why Lance didn't want to say anything when those journalists asked the question about him being an ex-orphan here. It probably was hard to be reminded that his friend just disappeared without an explanation. If it weren't for my extremely ridiculously strong sense of justice, I'd have forgotten about the blanket thing at once without asking Lance why he did it.

Well, I'll just leave that incident for now. After all...

I know how that feels... the pain of someone disappearing suddenly.

Chapter Eleven

2009-11-09T05:43:00.000-08:00

References: Iconic pop culture, as usual.

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

You might say I'm being paranoid and it's true, I was totally fidgety all morning as I waited at the breakfast table for the guys. I was wondering whether Lance would look different this morning, since that whole creepy thing with the blanket and stuff.

"Morning," a subtly accented voice rang into my ears. I jumped, yelping like a puppy getting caught doing something bad.

"Leo! Morning!"

The blond - freshly showered and meticulously groomed like the British gentleman he is - sat beside me, raising a querying eyebrow. "What's up with you, love?"

I faked a laugh. "Oh, nothing really. By the way, did you know, when you said that, you sounded like some old dude?"

Oh no. Hysterical voice. Not good. My voice keeps rising in pitch like some yowling cat. Why am I always so not subtle when I want to be?

Leo was texting on his Blackberry. I noticed this, and asked, "Who're you texting so early in the morning?"

"Oh, a friend. He was just asking me some stuff."

"Wassup kitty?" Jay suddenly appeared, grinning at me and sitting on the other side of me, ruffling my hair like I'm some kinda street dog. So annoying.

"I'm not your Fido, all right?" I snapped, smacking his hand away from my head.

"Of course not," he said, spooning cereal into his mouth, "You're my kitty,"

I hate that grin. Especially when he looks so damn innocent when he just said something like that. Someone needs to find him a girlfriend, and fast.

"Leo!" I said loudly in an accusatory tone, "Why can't you tell him to stop saying those things to me? It's so... annoying,"

Leo looked at the both of us, smiling an 'aw-how-cute' smile. "Kaitlyn, we both know Jay's just joking. So there's no need to get riled up, now, is there?"

I see his point. But still...

I glared at Jay. Jay gave me a victory sign. "The handsome one always wins,"

"Bleh. Lemme go find a bathroom to puke in first. I think I'm gonna projectile vomit." I muttered, probably loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Projectile vomit? Why?"

My spine instantly went rigid. Lance. Of course, Tyson, Jordan and Gabriel were with him.

I turned to face them, plastering a super-fake smile over my uneasy expression. "You're awake! Finally!" I said, back to my super-high-pitched voice. The scene from last night keeps replaying in my mind. I feel like suiciding right now.

Jordan looked at me; a questioning look bore over his face. "What happened to you? Something wrong with your throat? We can't have that, you know,"

"Thank you for your concern, I'm fine, really," I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "And I slept pretty well last night too, thanks for asking."

Jordan looked baffled. "Thanks for ask-? But I didn't-,"

Tyson took a rolled-up magazine that Jay was holding out towards him and used it to hit Jordan's head. Ooh, that hurt. "Jordan, for someone who's always making people angry, you sure suck at detecting sarcasm,"

Jordan rubbed his head, snatching the magazine away from Tyson's grip. I could see the title from where I sat, GameZone. Does he not read other kinds of magazine except ones related to video games? "Easy for you to say, pretty boy,"

The guys laughed, except for Lance. He merely took a seat across from me, reaching for the cereal box beside Jay's bowl. I watched him warily, while the others were talking; or in Tyson and Jordan's cases, arguing. Lance seemed to have noticed my stalker-ish 'tude, because he paused and looked at me.

Straight. In. The. Eyes.

I averted his piercing look-into-the-soul eyes and my gaze landed on the visible tattoo on his arm. Well, his arm is better than his eyes. Wait. What the hell am I saying now!?

"Something the matter?"

Uh, yeah? There's something the matter. What's the matter? Well, you acted all strange last night with the whole 'Sleep well', the blanket and well, it was weird! Friends do not just go around stroking each other's head while the other is asleep and say stuff like that. It's just... awkward.

I'd like to say that, but I'm not one for public confrontations. Plus, I may have just read too much into the thing, and maybe it's just something that Lance does for everyone with his whole romantic dreamer image thing. So in conclusion: I will not confront him publicly. Only when we're alone.

Note to self: Be prepared to attack where it hurts the most at all times in case moves are made. Vulnerability will not be tolerated.

"N-nothing, really." I answered, faking a laugh, "Hahahaha..."

Lance shrugged and resumed pouring cereal into a bowl.

-

"Kaitlyn!!"

I looked up from Jordan's magazine which I was flicking through idly while the guys were setting up outside. Leo had specifically given orders that no one but permitted people were to enter the little room that was temporarily serving as our, as Jay and Jordan crudely put it, 'Chillaxin' Area'.

"Chace?" the name tumbled out foreignly.

Said person cast a critical eye on me, as if he were giving me a once-over. Wait, not as if. He is. I noticed the makeshift access pass that he had around his neck, Leo's signature boldly scribbled on it.

We're an amateur band, but we're certainly not acting like one. One might believe we're actually professionals, except for the fact that we're not exactly earning anything.

"Even though I've revamped your wardrobe..." Chace began, an all-too familiar snarky tone edging into his voice. Oh, dear stars. Here comes the lecture. "How?! How on Earth can you look so... so... uncivilized?!"

He dramatically collapsed onto his knees onto the floor, the back of his hand resting on his forehead. "How?!"

If he weren't such a high-profile stylist to the stars, he would totally make a good actor.

I shrugged, pretending as if his words had no effect on me at all. Actually, I was dying to strangle him until he apologizes for insulting me, but he's a celeb stylist, so I don't want to be sued. "Hey, Chace with-no-last-name-because-it's-too-stuffy-and-formal."

Chace pouted, which made him look weird because I could see a day-old stubble - which, by the way, is weird for someone who's obsessed with me being dressed 'civilly' - on his lower face. Grown men, gay or not, should not pout. It's weird. "You're mean."

"Middle name," I answered back lightly, gesturing to a foldable chair beside me, "Have a seat, Mr. No-Last-Name."

Chace obliged and sat, his chin resting on his hand as he continued to stare at me. I must say, I think I'm the girl with the most stares gotten from Chace, since I believe he'd rather stare at hot gay prospects than unattractive girls. No offense intended.

The staring competition continued, and as I stared back at him in return, I realized something was different about him. He looked positively tired out, as if he had some problems plaguing him. I broke off our intense visual contact. "You look different. What's up?"

Chace looked confused. "Different? How so?"

I put on my wise tone. "Even though I don't know you that well, I know you well enough to know that you don't let yourself look like some guy who doesn't know the existence of shaving foam and razors,"

Chace self-consciously reached up to touch the stubble on his chin. "I suppose so..." he deliberated on my words thoughtfully. Then, he shot an accusatory look at me. "Look who's talking, Ms. I-Like-To-Look-Like-I-Have-No-Other-Clothes."

"Hey! It's not like that, okay?? I just think I shouldn't dress up too much because we're amateurs and more importantly, we're amateur rock musicians, not models!"

Chace looked bored. "I get your point, but at least wear something presentable. Don't wear a freebie t-shirt, you're appearing on TV for God's sake!" he chided, "And...I wasn't talking about that. I mean, you look like you have problems of your own too. Is it that Asher boy and Evie girl?"

Asher? Evie? How the hell does he know about them?! I haven't even seen the guy since the day we met, when he had forcefully given me a three-hour torture session! (Which, by the way, is something that I hope will never have to happen ever again.)

My theory is proven. Guys gossip like old women. God, can't they keep their mouths shut!? And they say girls are like radios.

"Of course not!" I answered back defiantly, "Asher and Evie are but a distant memory to me now!"

My view of the stylist was obstructed as he threw something at me. "Put this on. Tell me what's up while you're at it, yes?" he ordered, pushing me into the makeshift changing stall, ignoring my struggles.

I put on a sulky expression, regardless of the fact that Chace couldn't see me. "You tell me what's up first, pot."

"Pot?" I heard him ask from the other side. God! Is everyone not getting me today?

"Pot calling kettle black. Ever heard of that? You're pot, I'm kettle. Now tell me." I said as I pulled my t-shirt off. It was a free T-shirt I had gotten from a carnival last summer. Bobo the Clown.

Good times, good times.

I heard Chace sigh, and a slight creaking sound as he sat on the chair. "Well, the thing is, I-"

"WE'RE HERE!!!!"

My Lord, Jay is such a mood-killer and interrupter. And not to mention, he has bad timing, too.

"Oh, hey Chace!" Jay exclaimed brightly, and I heard him flopping into another chair. "Didn't know you were coming!"

"Just thought I'd surprise the lot of you, yes?" I heard Chace reply with a fake bright tone. Man, he's a rival to me in this faking business. I quickly pulled over the t-shirt Chace had given to me. Not bad; airbrushed thunderbolts and clouds. At least he knows what I like to wear.

I stepped through the curtains, carefully folding up my Bobo shirt and depositing it inside my bag. I wonder how Chace knew I'd end up not wearing one of his hand-picked shirts. Must be a stylist's intuition or something.

Chace cast his soon-to-be-reputable critical eye on the guys. "When I don't see any of you for a week, this is how to come back looking to me!? How is it so that only Lance and Tyson are properly dressed?"

I guess I could see his point. Lance had on a black dress shirt with white pin stripes and a skinny black tie on over his dark jeans while Tyson was a notch more fancy, with his black checkered scarf draped over a white T-shirt and black skinny jeans. We have a winner!

Jay had a dark look on his face. Obviously, he's not used to being wronged. I snickered. "That's because you're biased, Chace," he muttered, standing up.

"Come here, you street ruffians! I'll try to save what can be saved, yes?" he turned to look at me. "I shall... tend... to you later..."

Tend? I'd rather run away, but seeing as I don't want my identity to be exposed, I shall have to face Chace's wrath. Chace ushered the 'ruffians' - Heehee. Now I'm not the only one getting scolded - out of the room, leaving me and Lance alone. Tyson decided to tag along, probably to egg on the guys for being 'street ruffians', yes?

Ah, crap. Chace's way of talking is rubbing off on me.

Then, I realized my situation. Lance was there, reading a book quietly, while I, Kaitlyn Hunter, had instant super-sweaty palms that usually happen when I'm nervous. Well, hell, I am nervous right now.

I should confront him. "L-Lance...?"

Dammit. Don't stutter, me! It's a sign of weakness!

Lance looked up from his book. "Yes?" he answered in his deep tenor voice, "How may I help you?"

No turning back now. "I just wanted to ask you..." I stared at my hands. "Did you-?"

"I'm back!"

We jumped at the sound of Jay's voice. He was grinning, his school basketball T-shirt replaced with a cleaner, newer T-shirt. He picked up a chair and promptly placed it in an empty space between Lance and I and sat down. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing, really." I replied, relieved - because I wasn't actually ready to ask Lance about the thing that happened last night - and annoyed - because he interrupted me when I was going to ask Lance about the the thing that happened last night. "That was fast, by the way."

Jay stuck up his nose in the air with an indignant 'hmph'. "I am the King of Quick Changing. That's what you get when your sister brings in crazed fan girls early in the morning for eating the last of the dessert from the night before."

I took a quick glance at Lance as Jay went on to say no matter how evil his sister was, he still loved her and whatnot. Lance had gone back to his book - Dracula this time - as if I hadn't been asking him a question before.

I got bored of Jay's incessant chirping on how popular he was with his sister's friends, so I experimented with the box of masks that Chace had brought with him when he came.

"You shall be using the one with the black crystals, oui?" Chace's voice spoke into my ear. I jumped, but Chace expertly avoided colliding with my head/shoulder/whatever by withdrawing his head.

"No way in hell am I going to use any of these," I said defiantly, "Can't I stick with the one Jay gave me?"

"You will use one of these masks that I especially picked out for you!" Chace insisted, "After all, it is the least you could do for me after all that help I gave you!"

"Chace, ignore her. Please work on her to match the rest of us handsome people," Jay piped up, "But please, she's not too used to you yet despite the fact you gave her that three-hour-makeover a few months ago, so tone down with the theatrics, will you?"

Chace turned to look at He Who Has Spoken. His expression was overflowing with dramatic emotion. "My creativity must not be suppressed!" he announced with a flourish, "The beautiful people you see around you-," I looked around to see only the guys. Huh. He must be talking about some other people. "-will not exist without my unique and matchless personality, as well as my unlimited talent at making people beautiful!!"

I... see.

You know, I can totally picture Chace wrapping on a feathery boa, dressed in a skirt and parading around in five-inch heels, looking totally at ease with the world, just like Miss Jay in ANTM. Of all stylists from on the the guy's dad's company, the Gyles girls sure picked a flamboyant one to work with.

"Well, we want your unique and matchless personality to adjust accordingly to the person you're going to work on," Jay replied serenely, as all the other guys nodded in agreement, "She's lethal. She could kill any of us if she wanted. Not that, of course, she would kill me. Right, Kitty?"

I snorted. "You must be joking. I'd rather kill you than kill an ant." I answered, "After all, you're the one who stalked me, robbed me, then held me captive."

I got an indignant 'hey!' from Jay as Chace pulled me away from the band, pulling curtains across the middle of the room separating us from them. Actually, I have no idea how the curtains got there. Chace's creepy that way.

"But you just made me change like, five minutes ago!" I protested as he dragged me past the curtains.

"Quiet," Chace chided, "Fashion is an ever-changing whirlwind; a force of nature! You are in no place to question it,"

O-kay. I'm just going to shut up now, because the man is giving me the Look.

Chace made me sit in a chair, and I did so quietly as he worked on my face with lip gloss, mascara and all that weird you-know-what-I-wanna-say. I'm not sure why I need the eye stuff, though. I'm going to wear a mask, after all. I could hear the door open, and giggles of girls could be heard from the other side.

"I'm afraid the area beyond the curtain is restricted, ladies," I heard Leo say smoothly. "But I'm sure that's nothing for you, is it?"

"After all, we're all here," I heard Jay put in. I swear, I think he winked at them. I don't know how I know, but I just do. My suspicions were proved as I heard a few girls giggle shyly.

Chace worked with my hair, twisting my locks in all sorts of directions until I felt like tearing out every single strand of it.

Finally, he held up a super teeny-weeny, revealing tank top. "What do you think of this, Kaitlyn?" he whispered with a happy grin.

I screeched like a banshee as Chace dared asked my opinion on the tank top. "Do you think I'm going to perform in front of innocent little children and adults or going to go to some dark alley and lure pedophile old men as a prostitute!?"

I heard collective gasps from the Giggles Club and Jay said, "Hey! I wanna see kitty wear what you're showing her!" He stuck his head through the curtains, and I heard Jordan take over his distracting duty.

I shrieked, but thank God I was still dressed. I instinctively grabbed the prosti-top and threw it at Jay's head. Chace starting pushing Jay out, saying, "This is a sacred place for an artist and his work of art! No sacrilegious people allowed!"

"Hey! This top is sexy!" I heard Jay remark. He's probably holding it up for the whole world to see. Well, not the whole world at least. The whole room.

"Agreed." I heard Leo say. I swear, I'm going to kill them.

Chace firmly pinned the curtains together with a safety pin and turned to look at me again. "Put this on," he ordered, throwing a long piece of fabric at me.

I looked at him with the largest and most innocent eyes possible. "What if the work of art can dress herself?" I asked.

Chace rolled his eyes. "Well, the work of art did that this morning, and look how it turned out." he paused to look at me, probably imagining my Bobo t-shirt. "Apocalyptic, my dear."

Apocalyptic? I ignored his verbal smack-down, because I'd rather not do anything too conspicuous when the Giggles Club is here.

"Well then, please get out so I can change in peace." I asked him, my voice still sweet and sugary.

Chace rolled his eyes yet again. "Looking at you naked is hardly going to excite me, darling. For one, you're still an adolescent and I've seen women naked who're much much more sexier than you are, and two, I'm gay. Looking at you is like looking at a dog for moi."

A dog. Really? I refrained myself from giving him the finger and letting loose a torrent of cuss words forming in my brain. "Well, I'm sorry I give you the impression of a dog and that I'm not sexy, but I'd prefer to keep my naked body's image to myself, thank you very much." I said pleasantly.

Chace grumbled some incoherent words. "I was going to turn around while you change and watch for either Jay or Leo, if they try anything funny," he turned to poke his head out of the curtains. "You hear that, boys? Come one step anywhere near this curtain, I'll assure you, you'll have a good and long career as a soprano duo."

Now, if he weren't so verbally abusive, we'd be best bosom buddies.

I pulled on the white round-necked tee and then the ash-gray strapless dress. Wow, pretty conservative this time. Chace turned me around and beamed.

"Ooh la la! Trés bien! You look wonderful!" he exclaimed, then turned around to dig into the box of masks. He pulled out the mask that he had mentioned before, and it was, of course, cat-eared. It was entirely covered in black crystals. He made me hold it in place as he delicately guided the ribbons around my head and fastened it.

"Sit down," he ordered, pulling out a box from nowhere. I swear, he could be the next David Copperfield if he wanted. He keeps doing enigmatic things without an explanation for them.

I obeyed meekly, and he knelt down, taking one bare foot in his hand. You know, if he wasn't gay, he could be Prince Charming and I'd be Cinderella. But, you see the case, don't you? He's gay and probably taken.

He slipped my foot into a small flat-soled shoe that looked two sizes too small for me. I gasped as it fit perfectly. "Never doubt the powers of lé great artisté,"

Oh sure, lé great artisté. "So, am I ready yet?" I asked.

"Of course! Your appearance is finally presentable!" Chace announced, unpinning the curtains as I stood up. Finally. I get something else other than, 'FASHION DISASTER!'. "Oh booooys! The vocalist is ready!"

I assume he used 'the vocalist' instead of my name because of the Giggles Club's presence.

I stepped through the curtains, and a bunch of girls of various ages - Probably kids from the orphanage - eyed me; some with distaste, some with pure curiosity.

"Hi?" I said tentatively. Jay and Leo, as charming as ever, both stood at either of my sides, and draped their arms around my shoulders.

"Meet the Lightning Kitty," Jay introduced with a flirty smile, "She's our newest member, so play nice."

"She's rather shy in front of people she doesn't know." Leo added, winking at me. I felt a tad bit reassured as I recognized his way of telling me everything's fine. "So, if you ladies don't mind, please leave. We have some pre-show things to talk over. See you in half an hour!"

I sighed audibly as the last girl left and the door closed. Under a disguise makes me feel quite hypocritical. I have no idea why.

-

"Great show!" a guy dressed in a business suit said as the guys and I got off stage. I could see Gabriel a little way off with some other guys dressed with t-shirts that had 'SECURITY' printed across their backs, handling the various photographers clamoring to get to us with a couple of other people that volunteer in the orphanage. Well, by us I mean the guys. I don't really think they're at all interested in me.

"Thanks," Jay answered smacking a high-five into Leo's palm as they celebrated the success of the performance.

A woman, probably in her twenties, came running up to us. She was wearing a volunteer's shirt. "Oh, it's you! I'm sorry, I never expected the event to be this big! We're rather short-staffed because we underestimated the crowd today," the poor woman sounded extremely flustered and embarrassed; she looked near the tears, "We especially didn't think this many reporters would come!"

I'd really like to go sit her down somewhere quiet and educate her on the mysterious powers that five extremely attractive teenage boys can have.

"Sorry," we all chimed together sheepishly, "We'll talk to the reporters for you,"

"Well, if that's the case, please come over this way," the volunteer sounded extremely relieved as she gestured over to a group of chairs, "You can use the lobby,"

"Word your sentences carefully, guys," Jay warned - pretty smart of him, considering his mental aptitude. Then he seemed to have remembered I was there, "And girl," he added hastily.

"Nice save," came my sardonic comment.

I was walking behind them, and Tyson fell back to match my painfully slow pace. He leant over to my ear and said, "We don't normally do this, but it's kind of our fault that the paparazzi are here... it's unorthodox, since we're not even real recording artists yet,"

Ah. So that was it. Tyson and I caught up with them as they were getting settled into the chairs. I took a chair next to Jay, since Leo was sitting in the middle. Gabriel, and the business-suited guy from earlier, led the reporters towards us, and I could lip-read him.

They were saying that they weren't to take any unauthorized pictures and also to not fake any statements, because if not, the Lightning Devils would personally sue the felon. Ooh. Never knew Gabriel could be such a bad-ass manager-in-training.

"That's a manager that my father hired to give Gabe some hands-on training," Jay whispered to me, seeing the way I was watching Gabriel and the other guy.

"Oh," I looked up at the approaching onslaught of camera-laden people, "Look. They're here,"

"So, this is your first official performance for the public?" a reporter asked.

Leo nodded. "Well, you can say that. We have performed many times in public before, but this is the first time someone's asked us to perform. So, yes, we consider this to be our first official performance."

"Why haven't you signed with a record label yet? I believe you have been approached with many offers?" another random reporter asked.

Jay's turn. "We're still young. We still have to go to school, so we're not thinking of this for the time being. Maybe soon into the future, you may be seeing us collaborating with the world's top bands!" he said, grinning that signature devil-may-care grin of his.

"I'd love to collaborate with Lady Gaga," Jordan joked, and he high-fived Tyson as he said this. Really, Jordan? As eccentric as the woman may be, she could take your comment personally in the wrong way and sue you or something!

So much for wording our words carefully.

"Speaking of collaborating," reporter number three piped up, "This girl you have with you. She is the new vocalist, isn't she?"

"Well obviously," Jay said in a bewildered amusement, "What did you think she was doing up there? Making a speech?"

The other reporters laughed, and reporter number three looked slightly embarrassed. "Hey man, no offense, yeah?" Jay asked, playfully punching the said reporter's shoulder good-naturedly.

Hmph. Jay obviously knows how to word his sentences 'carefully'. "So, any chance of revealing her identity to us?" reporter number four asked, holding up his camera hopefully.

"Sorry, no," I answered, putting my input for the first time, "I'm not comfortable with seeing myself all over the news. I'd like to be less conspicuous."

I think the reporter was deaf, because he acted as if I hadn't spoken and turned to face Lance, who was quiet as he always is. What an ass. "Lancelot Montague. The keyboardist, I'm assuming?"

Uh, duh? It's not like the person working magic at the keyboard was somebody who happened to look like Lance.

Lance, obviously not familiar with sarcasm as I am, nodded. "Yes. Yes I am."

"So, I've heard from some sources," the reporter continued, "Is it true that you're a former child from this orphanage? A former orphan?"

Wait. What?

Lance was an orphan from this very orphanage?

How come I never knew that!?

I looked at the other guys; except for Gabrel, they all had tense expressions on their faces. Why didn't they ever tell me Lance was adopted? It's not that bad. But judging by the looks on their faces, my thoughts were otherwise. Something's up.

Lance, expression still stoically neutral nodded. "Yes, yes I was an orphan. I was placed here when I was younger, before I got adopted,"

Chapter Ten

2009-09-27T08:09:00.000-07:00

References: Mostly iconic pop culture, so don't sue me!

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

Hey y'all! My name's Kaitlyn Hunter, an' I'm seventeen an' living with ma single, kuh-razy shoe sellin' aunt an' my lil' bratty barbie sister! I go to seh-kewl a' the most prestigious academy in town, and I'm in a band with people my age!

Is that great or what?

Okay, so that was a lame attempt to sound like what fans think that Miley Cyrus should sound like.

So, I was like, thinkin' maybe we all should go an' have a hoe down at the barn this Sunday!

How was that? Authentic enough? No? You want an explanation?

Well, you see, one fine sunny day - actually, the weather doesn't matter much, since we were in the basement studio - our website (Yes, The Lightning Devils have a website. I must say, hats-off to the guys for an uber cool website!) email account received an email invitation to perform at an orphanage not far from Sandfields.

It's to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the orphanage since 1990 something - don't kill me. I suck at remembering facts, okay? - so they're having a fundraiser. Half goes to the orphanage's funds, the other half goes to the international worldwide fund for orphans around the globe.

So, we, the Lightning Devils, have been asked to perform a concert there! As an amateur band, we won't be getting anything other than publicity out of it, but it'll be great to hang out with the kids!

Oh. My. God. That sounded so heroic and epic. I think I have something in my eye. Sniff.

Stop with the suspicious looks already! Fine! I admit it! Ninety-eight percent of what I said was read off from the admin's - a.k.a. Jordan (he's a computer whiz, surprisingly) - blog update.

As I was saying, we were asked to perform songs that the kids like. And kids being kids, they asked for any mature rocker's worse nightmare.

THAT'S RIGHT.

I now have to practice millions of songs by Miley Cyrus slash HANNAH MONTANA OMG! (insert fangirl scream here), the Jonas Brothers (insert fangirl scream here), Justin Bieber (insert fangirl scream here) and as such.

I've been practicing my 'Miley' accent to entertain and please the children, and it is so NOT going well.

WHERE IS THE ROCK MUSIC????

I mean, granted that they asked for Paramore's Decode, but that's just about it. And I bet it's because it's a Twilight soundtrack. Insert sigh here.

I just want to dig a hole and bury myself in it.

I gotta admit though, I've been in this band for quite a while now. It surprises me that I've stuck with them this long. I really thought I wouldn't last a week.

It's already December, and the school's Fall Dance was, sadly, canceled, due to unforeseeable renovations that were held at the venue. But it's all due for winter in January, so...

I CAN'T WAIT TO MEET PARAMORE!!! EEEE!!

Ahem. Anyways. Moving on.

"Kaitlyn, you look weird. What's with all the rapid changes in facial expression?"

Poof. I can see that little frail clouded image of ambiguous, somewhat human-shaped blobs moving about in glittering lights disappear. I turned to glare at the daydream-pooper.

"Jordan! Don't interrupt a girl when she's fantasizing!" I complained, shooting the bassist with a glare.

Jordan's face had a questioning look that was paired off with his trademark 'I-did-something-bad-but-you-did-worse' grin. "Hey! Kaitlyn's fantasizing about one of us!" he hollered over to the recording room, where Leo, Jay and Lance were discussing details about the album that we were supposed to have produced for an audition for the coveted spot to perform at the now titled: January Winter Dance.

Leo, Jay and Lance instantly turned to look at the both of us. Jay had somewhat of a hard look on his face, while Leo's easygoing smile was easily paired with the bored, blank look Lance always has on his face. I kicked Jordan's shins. Hard. "Jordan's talking bull! I was fantasizing about my soon-to-be-real meeting with Paramore," I yelled at them, stressing the last sentence.

"It's fine, Kaitlyn, if you actually do, and if it's about me..." Leo said teasingly. Urgh. He is so not the person I talked to during the Evie-Asher incident, "...I'd be honored that I hold a place so special in your dreams. Day or night."

Someone please tell me why I haven't left this place yet.

"Anyways, when will we be leaving for Archdale?" I asked, ignoring Jordan's whimpers about pain and medical insurance. He can pay for it easily. He's stinking rich. In fact, I have come to the conclusion that everyone in the band 'cept me, are loaded. "Tomorrow, right? What time and where should I be?"

Did I mention the orphanage is located in the next town? Which is a middle-of-nowhere town as well? Archdale. Hm. Makes me think of David Archuleta. Don't diss his baby-face! His voice practically melts my brain. Forget Bruno Mars, David Archuleta totally sings what a girl wants to hear!

"We're meeting at my place," Leo said, "Since we'll be using my van. Your aunt's agreed to let you come with us for the weekend, right?"

I nodded. It was hard at first, but after I asked her if she wanted to put a chastity bikini on me, she decided to let me go. I know. I just rock at persuasion. I definitely have a chance at a career in law.

Well, I only thought of the chastity bikini 'cause the girl in one of the many Robin Hood movies wore one. I forget which version. Details, details.

"I have to be off now," I said, "Gotta go pack!" I stood up from the beanbag that I was sitting on, purposefully pressing a hand on Jordan's head for support. He gave me a mock death glare.

"You'd better be thankful that you're the lead singer," he said, grinning darkly, "If you weren't, I would've done much worse rather than let you torture me like this."

I shuddered as I refused to let Jordan's words enter my mind. "Oh please, like what?" I asked, "Set your fangirls on me?"

-

Sometimes, I think I should get ear plugs to block out any unnecessary comments made by the boys. I've had to sit through many discussions of whose chests were bigger, Pamela Anderson or Jennifer Lopez? To which I couldn't reply, because then Tyson had to go and say, "Pam has the bigger boobs, definitely. J Lo is the one with the hotter ass."

Then Jay had to grin at me and say, "Any comments, kitty?" Of course, I replied with the good ol', "Dude. They're hot, but they're way older than you. Shouldn't you be talking about younger women?"

And then they started talking about Megan Fox, Katy Perry and Leighton Meester. You know, I have a vague but strong suspicion that they only talk about stuff like that in my presence to annoy me. I simply rolled my eyes and continued pushing buttons on Jordan's PSP, pretending that Kumo was Jay and I was definitely pwning him.

Tekken's a good stress reliever. I should start saving for my own PSP. I am seriously contemplating this, when my aunt sees me walking up the driveway from the window and comes out with the portable phone in her hand.

"Kaitlyn! It's your mom and dad!"

I abruptly jumped over the picket fence and bounded towards my aunt, grabbing the phone in sheer excitement. "MOM! DAD!"

"Kaitlyn! How's my artist?" my dad's voice boomed through the earpiece. His voice was rather staticky, which I think is because of the long distance and crappy connection.

"I'm okay, dad! How're you? Where's mom?" I asked, trying to sound chirpy as I followed Aunt Elle inside, shutting the door behind me. I headed for the kitchen, where Aunt Elle was sitting at her usual place at the kitchen counter on the bar stool.

There was a pause at the line, before a new voice joined in the conversation. "Kaitlyn, don't try to fool us with the 'I'm-trying-to-be-chirpy' voice, darling. I know you're still livid because of the move," the familiar, stern tones of my mother's voice reprimanded me.

I grimaced and scratched the back of my head. Aunt Elle looked up from her laptop at the kitchen counter, making a face. "Uhh..."

"Kait, stop scratching the back of your head. It makes you look like a monkey, kid," my dad put in. Damn. He knows me so well.

"Sorry," I mumbled, "Is this like a three-way call or something?"

I heard my dad chuckle. "You could say that, if you consider picking up another connecting line three-way,"

"How's France?" I asked in a deceptively bright tone, "Tried any escorts?"

I heard my mom sigh. "Darling, France is beautiful, but we're not in France. We're in Sweden. And they're called escargots, not escorts,"

Oops? Well, you can't blame me. I've never eaten French before, okay? And it's not like they told me their travel plan or anything, besides the fact that they're globe-trotting.

"Speaking of escorts," my dad said, "How's that boyfriend of yours, Ashton?"

"And Evie?" my mom added in.

This is the first time my parents have contacted me since we separated at the airport, because of the jaw-dropping costs of international calls and the lack of internet while traveling.

So, my life has pretty much been in a limbo to them. So it's one thing that they've never really understood the basis of the friendship I had with Asher, only preferring to think that he was my boyfriend (Which he so was not) and that Evie was my only best friend. They don't know the fact that they backstabbed, two-timed and then reconciled with me.

"Dad, his name is Asher, not Ashton, and how many times do I have to tell you? He is not and never was my boyfriend," I explained patiently, insinuating the terms 'is not' and 'was never', "We were best friends, just like how Evie and I were,"

"Why? Did he dump you or something? Or did you have a fight? No one treats my artist that way. Was is another girl? Alright, Kait, I'm going to take the next possible flight and go to Boston to kick his sissy, pardon my language, ass..."

Lucky guess, dad, lucky guess.

"Dad. Dad!" I shouted, trying to cut into his monologue flow. I am so insulted. Why is it that I have to be the one who was dumped? Why not the other way round? "We were never together. We were best friends. And you do know that most LDRs don't last that long, right?"

Here I am, giving my parents the clean-cut happy Disney version. Lord, I know I'm not religious and all, but please don't strike lightning down upon me for lying to my parents.

I swear, as there was another pause on the line, I could see my parents trying to work out what the acronym meant with a blank look on their faces.

"What's LDR? What's that? Some new, hip urban artist in your art community or something?" You know, at times like this, my dad can really be adorable. "Or is it some new kind of dope that you kids are smoking? Kait, you'd better not be going along with this, or God help me, I will get on the next plane to Sandfields and lock you in a dungeon. Or tower, since you like to paint. You need a lot of light to paint, right?"

Yep. Real adorable.

"Dear, I think it may be some kind of acronym that teenagers use on the internet and during text messaging, part of the atrocious cornucopia of improper words," My mother's always been the sensible one, she has.

I rolled my eyes. "Mom's right, dad. It's not some new artist or a drug. LDR stands for Long-Distance Relationship. In this case, my friendship with Evie and Asher."

There was a very long, "Ohhhhhhhhh," from my dad, and I could hear my mom sigh heavily.

"So I hear from Raphaelle that you're going on a trip tomorrow and Sunday?" my mom asked, deciding to change the subject.

I nodded. "Yeah, with a bunch of... friends," I am careful not to add the fact that they're all guys. God, if my parents ever heard that, they'll definitely fly over in an instant and bundle me up and send me to an all-girl's boarding school. Bleh. Middle of Nowhere is better than a nunnery.

"Well, have fun!" my dad said, "Your mother and I have to go now. It's a pity we can't talk to your sister, but apparently she's out for ballet practice, isn't she?"

"U-huh," I confirmed in a dry tone, "Well, call again soon guys! Love you!"

And the line went dead.

I found myself outside Leo's mansion the next day. It's actually the first time I've been here. And it's HUGE. Nothing new, though. It's rather English-y, with the Victorian architecture making up most of the house.

I saw Gabriel and Lance leaning against Leo's van, while Leo, Jay, Jordan and Tyson were running around the van. Probably checking the condition for the six-hour ride. As I walked towards them, I couldn't help but wonder why don't Gabriel and Lance ever talk to each other?

I know that they don't hate each other or anything, but since Gabe and I joined the band, never once have I seen Gabe uttering a single word to Lance or vice versa. But I've seen Gabriel staring at Lance strangely, for some unknown reason. I'm confused.

"Kaitlyn! Morning," Gabriel smiled at me, waving me over to fill up the gap between him and Lance.

"Hey Gabe," I replied, then turning to Lance, "Hey Lance."

I think I saw Lance tilt his head sideways briefly, as if inspecting me, before raising a hand and nodding in greeting. Feeling suspicious, I looked at him with narrowed eyes. "What do you see on me that you find that you have to tilt your head like that?"

I gasped and clamped my hand over my mouth. "Sorry! Reflex! Blame Jay and Jordan!"

Then a magical thing happened. A unicorn came trotting by, followed by the Gryffindor Quidditch team on their brooms. I think Harry's chasing after the Snitch.

Okay, okay! Joking! But I wasn't kidding about the magical part, though. Lance actually looked at me, smiled, then chuckled softly. "I see someone beautiful,"

Gabriel was obviously startled as I am, as he briefly lost his balance before re-composing himself. I know he was surprised that Lance actually smiled, chuckled and said something, but I can't help feel a tad bit insulted because Lance complimented me.

"Hardeharhar Lancelot," I said drily, "Read any new pickup lines lately?"

Lance shrugged, and walked off to the back of the van, the small smile still visible on his face.

"He's weird," Gabriel commented. I nodded mutely as I stared after the reticent keyboardist.

"Well, I get to use the sunroof again!" I said brightly, changing the subject, running towards the door at the other side.

-

The ride was very much filled with discussions and plans on how to entertain the children at the orphanage. But I don't know how the songs that we were going to play by Miley Cyrus suddenly changed into 'Who-was-hotter-in-last-year's-Miss-Universe'.

Needless to say, I am relieved to get out of the van and away from the guys. Tyson told me that Lance has a family cottage in Archdale, so we won't be going to any fancy-schmancy hotel suite. To be honest, I'm slightly disappointed. I mean, I was totally looking forward to a suite room for myself, and maybe order room service just for the heck of it. (Also because I know Jay's gonna pay for it all, so...)

"That's not a cottage!" I shrieked as Leo slowed his van down outside a perfectly normal-sized house. "It's as big as my house! It's a house!"

The house had a modern architecture; angular, flat-roofed and urban, it was mostly glass instead of walls and the colour palette was the monochrome black and white. Definitely a house that Iron Man would live in.

Lance titled his head. "It's not a house, it's a cottage," he insisted lightly, before going to unlock the sleek, mahogany front door with a key he had procured from his pocket.

I stared at him as the other guys agreed with him. "Someone, give me a wall to bang my head on," I moaned, pulling my overnight bag with me. "You guys must have bad eyesight."

I sighed as I followed the others into the 'cottage'. Well, if you ask me, it's rather elaborate for a 'cottage'.

"Wow. You don't even live here and there's like tons of really pricey stuff in here," I commented, brushing a hand on an out-of-place ornate vase labeled 'Umbrella Holder'. Someone, please get me a gun. I'm going to shoot myself in the head.

I practically conjured up a pile of sandwiches quickly as I refrained myself from getting another heart attack. The knife was one of those utensils that you find in a pricey household appliances catalogue. And the tap water is mountain spring water. You'd think I'd be used to this by now, but no, I'm not.

I really think the band should be called 'Heart Attack Devils', not 'Lightning Devils', because rather than giving lightning, they're giving me heart attacks pretty much all the time.

"Kaitlyn, you can choose wherever you want to sleep," I heard Tyson say from upstairs in a muffled voice.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," I shouted up the stairs as I proceeded to jump two steps at a time like a ninja, because I was going to start banging my head on the wall if I saw another ornate vase umbrella holder. And I don't think I can pay for the repairs of a hole in a wall, and I think my aunt will laugh at my explanation. "Didn't Chace ever teach you that?"

Tyson's head poked out from a door nearby. "Chace's the one who talks with his mouth full," he said with a wrinkled nose, before a guilty look crossed his face as he saw Leo, "Please don't tell him I said that. Chace is really into you,"

Leo seemed to have caught my slack-jawed response as he laughed and winked at me. "Don't be jealous, love. You're the only one for me."

"Whatever!" I looked into the empty, unconquered rooms.

I immediately chose the closest and simplest room, marking it by throwing my duffel bag onto the bed, because I was ready to plotz after six exhausting hours practically baby-sitting four very rowdy teenagers (Gabe and Lance not included) and well, today's too much of a shock to me. An ornate vase umbrella holder can do bad things to my heart, you know. I'm a frail little girl.

"Like the umbrella holder?"

I squawked as Jay breathed down my neck. I literally jumped a whole foot away from him, clutching desperately at the back of my neck. "Did I not establish contact boundaries on the first day we met?" I hissed, finding myself in a room that seemed to be Jordan's realm; he looked completely at ease with the modern sofas, black leather swivel chairs and glass coffee tables. Various forms of entertainment lay scattered in the room, ready for the picking.

"You might have," Jay pretended to seem like he was trying to remember my exact words as he followed after me into the game room, "Would you care to jumpstart my memory, Kitty?"

"I'd rather jumpstart you down the highway to Hell," I snarled as the others made themselves comfortable on the couches. Jordan seems to have gained superhuman speed, as he already had a teetering pile of PS3 game boxes towering beside him on the floor, as he debated with Leo on which game to get started on first.

As I claimed a white leather recliner with a large, plush cushion, I realize what Jay had said. "What do you mean, 'like the umbrella holder'?" I narrowed my eyes suspiciously as Jay took a seat on the armchair near the recliner.

Jay grinned, tapping his fingers on his chin. Seafoam eyes twinkled mischievously as he said, "I may have asked the caretaker to prepare a little surprise for a certain Kitty,"

"You didn't,"

The triumphant look on the megalomaniac's face was the only confirmation I needed. I gnashed my teeth together and grabbed one of the smaller cushions. "You're an ass," I stated as I flung it at him.

Jay easily caught the projectile, chortling as he did so. "You're just so fun to rile up, you know?" He put down the cushion.

I make a strangled noise and turned my head away from him, burying my face into the cushiony pillow.

-

The first thing I saw when my eyes opened was darkness.

My face was still buried into the oversized cushion; I had pins and needles in my legs, as I had curled them up into my usual sleeping position. I couldn't hear any noise; the boys must have probably all gone to sleep already, and they probably didn't want to wake me up.

At least they know what to do with a person prone to being cranky after waking.

I realized that I had fallen asleep. Guess I must've been more tired than I'd originally thought. My neck ached like crazy, and I have to commend myself to be able to breathe with my face pressed to the pillow like this.

I started to move, but then I realized there was somebody walking towards me. The footsteps were growing louder, then they stopped near me. A cold breeze wafted through the air, as a soft, cottony blanket covered me, and I felt someone's warm breath beside my face as he bent down.

I squeezed my eyes shut, not daring to make a single movement, pretending that I was still asleep.

"Sleep well, Kaitlyn," a voice whispered into my ear somewhat fondly, as a hand stroked the back of my head once, before the person got up and left.

My heart nearly stopped when I recognized the voice.

Lance. The voice belonged to Lance.

The Lance that usually spoke no more than one-worded replies, the Lance that preferred fictional humans to actual, living, breathing ones. The Lance that had strangely, been giving me compliments out of the blue.

Oh, boy.

Chapter Nine

2009-09-21T08:53:00.000-07:00

You know, I never ever ever thought of Leo as you know, someone that could be interested in me and me interested in him and whatever, BUT.

Why is my heart beating so fast? Is it because I'm in shock? Or is it because I feel like I have a big fat floating banner on top of me that says, 'I'm so screwed but what the heck.'?

No. Stupid, silly Kaitlyn. Don't over-think it.

"You're... good at petting,"

Yeah, nice one Kaitlyn. Give yourself a pat on the back for the sorry attempt at breaking the awkward silence!

Beside me, Leo's body shook slightly in laughter as he chuckled. I stuck my bottom lip out and wrinkled my eyebrows in an attempt to sulk and pout with all my might. "What?" I asked defensively, looking up to glare at him.

"Nothing, it's just that...," Leo broke off into another round of chuckling, making me fume and seethe beside him.

"I'm sorry if I said something weird, okay?" I growled. God. It's like the universe is out to get me or something.

"No, it's not weird," Ooh. I like how he says 'weird'. It's so... British. Okay. I am not making any sense here. "It's quite endearing, actually,"

"Would you like me to castrate you?" I asked with a fake, sugary smile plastered on my face, "'Cause I can come up with many ways to do it. In fact, I'm pretty sure Google can give me at least a hundred and one ways,"

Leo pulled his arm away from my shoulders; I could see that pearly-white grin on his face. I really wanna smack it off right now.

"Looks like you're back to normal, Kaitlyn," he commented, moving back into the respectable distance away from me on the bench, "I like that smile. As fake as it may be, it's a sight better than that frown you had on,"

"What, because I look like less of a frog when I smile rather than frown?" I grumpily asked, toying with the plastic folder in my hands.

"Well, that and the fact that you're loads more prettier when you smile," Leo replied, winking at me.

I felt the temperature escalate; my neck warmed right up. The autumn breeze did nothing to cool my cheeks as another bout of silence hit us. I wondered what to say next.

"Kaitlyn, I-,"

Oh. Not that. I have a feeling that I don't really want to hear this. So...

I did the smart thing. I ran away from him.

-

I haven't been to any practice sessions for two weeks now. At least Asher listened to me and went home. I haven't seen hide nor tail of him or Evie since that Friday when they unexpectedly dropped by to 'bring me back'.

Yeah. Right. Like I'd actually believe that.

I'm pretty sure that I'm causing some troubles for the band right now, from my being absent. I checked the internet, and they haven't performed at all since I started avoiding them. Gabriel has tried talking to me, but I shook my head and left. I don't think any of them know why I'm really avoiding them.

I know. I'm a coward. I run away. That's my thing, you know?

On the first day of the third week of avoiding them, I was painting in the quiet simplicity of the art room. The door creaked open reticently, as if the intruder didn't want to disturb me. Too late. There's an odd brush stroke in my painting now. Dammit.

"Who's there?" I murmured while feeling annoyed, not tearing my eyes away from the canvas, "I'm busy and I booked this room beforehand, so whoever you are, if you don't have anything to do with me, please leave,"

"I do have some business with you, you know," a familiar voice broke through the three-second pause after my cold greeting. It sent tingles up my spine, and I put my paintbrush and palette down on the table. My cheeks prickled with heat.

"Leo," I said shortly, but not as cold as I thought it would seem. I sounded more like a strangled cat, actually.

Silence ensued as Leo sat on the edge of a chair near where I stood with my easel. The only sounds came from the radiator in the corner, a weird series of metal creaking that frankly made the silence all the more awkward.

"Er...sorry 'bout what happened the other day," Leo said hurriedly as he broke the silence, "I was-,"

"Joking? Playing?" I guessed with a small smile, knowing that obviously, whatever I had felt at that time meant nothing, "I know that, Leo. This is you we're talking about,"

My response caught the blonde off-guard. He confusedly tilted his head sideways before regaining composure. "You... aren't going to kill me or press charges against me or anything?" he asked, wariness edging his voice.

Well, he could just have a little bit more faith in me. I'm insulted. "No, you moron," my tone was dry, "In fact, I'd expect nothing less from you,"

Leo smiled at me apologetically. "That's true..." You know, he actually sounded rather wistful... or reluctant. I can't really tell which one it is.

"So, the air is cleared up, I suppose," I pulled my easel aside and pushed it against the wall, making sure the label with my name on was visible, "I feel really retarded now. I've been absent for two whole weeks because of something harmless like your frivolous comments,"

"To be fair, you were emotionally distressed at that time," Leo replied as we made our way out of the Arts and Language wing, "I was wrong to employ my usual people tactics right then,"

"True," I sniffed contemptuously, ignoring the throbbing that had started up again in the back of my mind, "People tactics? So you hit on men too? I wasn't aware that you went both ways, Leo,"

"Kaitlyn!"

-

We entered the spacious studio in the basement, where I could see Gabriel and Tyson deep in some intense conversation, Jordan sitting on an office chair with his feet on the coffee table, thumbs deftly jabbing the buttons on his PSP, Lance reading a new book and Jay frantically gabbering into his mobile.

All activities and noise ceased instantly and they all looked at the both of us.

"Er, hi."

-

After a somewhat civilized reunion with the boys, Leo and Gabriel went off early, to go book a venue of some sort for our next performance. Jordan was dozing on the recliner inside the recording booth, and Lance and Tyson had to attend to some family matters.

Jay, seated on the sofa, was staring off into space, absent-mindedly plucking at his guitar with his fingers. The glassy glaze over his green eyes was a sure indicator that he wasn't really paying attention to his surroundings; a frown formed on his brow.

Curious, I took a seat next to him.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, poking his back, "Pissed that I ran off without warning and avoided you guys for two weeks?"

Jay seemed to be startled, because he turned to me quickly, almost dropping his guitar. "N-no. Any reason I should say something?"

An oddly quiet and unresponsive Jay? His aberration is disturbing and spooky. It is, it is. Somehow, the absence of his signature cocky grin makes me miss it.

"You deal with that girl Evie yet?" he asked me unexpectedly, "And I heard from Leo that you met some guy called Asher. Your ex?"

Oh yeah. Evie. And Asher. How nice of him to remind me. Asshole.

"No, and I'd prefer if you didn't mention them again," I said curtly, turning my back on him, "And he's not my ex. He's my ex-best friend,"

"You know, if you don't deal with that problem right now, it might resurface soon again," Jay said, ignoring my request.

Despite the fact he had ignored what I said, he was right. I really had to deal with them. I can't just run away from my problems. But it's hard, you know, to face them after their betrayal. I can't even stand the sight of Evie's or Asher's faces anymore. It's hard like that.

"Anyways, Gabe managed to book a slot in a cafe with live entertainment. We're due there tonight. Be there at six, okay?" Jay stood up and crossed over to the door, "Well, unless you wanna wait here, you can leave now."

I watched him dumbly as he coolly opened the door and shut it as he left the studio. Not a word of insult, no Kitty, no nothing. I wonder what's wrong with him?

Well, I honestly can't be bothered right now. It's already four and I need to go home and get changed for the performance. Talk about last-minute.

-

I found myself dressed in jeans and a hooded sweater thrown over a t-shirt, since I really don't want to be all fancy like the last time. But believe me, my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when I saw the price tag of the clothes, especially the jeans.

FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS!

My old ones which Chace subsequently oh-so cleverly dumped into the recycle bin cost about thirty only.

I feel like I'm robbing Chace. He's giving me like, a new wardrobe of clothes every two days, and I can't keep up with all the clothes, so I had to give some to Goodwill and Aunt Elle.

Of course, I picked the not-so-attention-catching cat mask. After Chace found out that I was going under a tacky pseudonym, I received a box full of different kinds of cat eye-masks. Rhinestone-studded ones, ones that were entirely made of steel and ones with feathers and whatnot.

Well, he could have been discreet about it. I had to lie to Genevieve through my teeth that it was part of some non-existent art project I had at school, to which she responded with, "Well, you don't have to be embarrassed about trying to be like the Lightning Kitty. Everyone wants to be like her," and then flipped her hair and sashayed off somewhere.

I nearly burst a gut laughing after that. I mean, it's funny when people think I want to be like the Lightning Kitty, because I am the Lightning Kitty.

A lone figure stood outside the restaurant, which I assume has to be Jay, since he was the one who told me to be there. Only...

Why the hell is it that it's Evie who's standing there?

Evie was just about as surprised as I was, meaning, she had the same 'OMFG why the hell are you here?' look on her face.

Evie took up a sassy, don't-mess-with-me stance, while I stopped in my tracks, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?" she said, giving me a sniff, as if I were some kind of anathema.

Well, I'm insulted. I just used my green apple shampoo and my cinnamon bath soap!

"Is is a crime to stop by a cafe in a town which I live in?" I asked her with an innocent look. Really, I should be the one asking her that question!

"Jayden told me he'd be here." Evie said smugly, "For me."

"And I care because...?"

"Don't you like him?" Evie asked as I caught her off-guard with my nonchalant question.

I sighed. Evie will always be Evie. "Look, just because he's my friend, it doesn't mean I'm physically or emotionally attracted to him,"

"Kaitlyn? Evie?"

Asher. The little clockwork wheels in my mind started turning as I started to make out why it seemed so suspicious that the three of us were here.

Of course. I should have known.

I turned around, ready to walk off, but I was obstructed by someone whom I suspect was the mastermind of this little encounter. Nosy Parker Jay. I grabbed his shirt and dragged him a few metres away from Evie and Asher, so that they wouldn't be able to hear what I was about to say to Jay.

"Jay, why the hell did you lie to me?" I asked him prodding his chest with the surreptitiously cloth-covered mask.

"Kitty, why the hell did you try to run away from your problems?" Jay asked back, his voice distinct and sultry. Guess the ol' Jay is back. "Don't run away. Talk things over with them. It will all be solved if you do."

"Right now, I can't face Evie, all right? And Asher, too," I said, feeling tears prickling at my eyes, "What they did to me, Jay, is not something that I can just throw to the back of my mind and forget about. They betrayed me, and didn't even try to tell me that they're in love with each other. They just chose to drop me and then blame me for dropping them. They broke our promise, Jay. They haven't even tried to apologize to me yet. How do you think I feel, huh?"

"Then tell them," Jay said simply.

I'm stumped. What does he mean by 'tell them'?

"Tell them what?" I asked, arching an eyebrow to question him.

Jay chuckled softly. "Well, kitty, what you just told me, of course!" he said, as if it were the most obvious - well, I suppose it is - thing in the world, "If you really feel that way, then tell them! Tell them how much they hurt you. You actually still love them, don't you?"

He's right. Although I have a certain amount of hate for Evie and Asher, I still love them. Maybe it's not hate. Maybe it's resentment. They used to mean the world to me. And maybe they still do right now.

"They don't love me," I muttered like a little spoilt child.

Insert another of Jay's annoying cryptic chuckles. "Kitty, my dear, if I remember correctly, I heard from the grapevine that that fellow, Asher, was the one who suggested to following you here, and he told you that he had fallen for you, didn't he?" he said, "And that girl who's so into me? She never said anything about hating you, now did she?"

Oh. He's right. But how he knows that my private encounter with Asher had included some rather sensitive things, I will never know. I distinctly remember omitting the part where Asher had confessed in my conversation with Leo, just only telling him about our promise.

I should be wary of stalkers next time. Jay probably has a gang of spies hiding in the shadows and reporting on my every move.

I can just vividly imagine an evil-looking Jay sitting on a plush boss chair, twirling his curly mustache with one hand and stroking an evil-looking persian cat with the other, with the black-clad-super-spies on the ground, saying, "Sir, we have come to report to you that Kaitlyn Hunter is currently in a conversation with her ex-best friend, who had romantic feelings for her,"

What? My mom always said I had a big imagination. I should volunteer myself to a movie-writing-company. Maybe Disney'll hire me!

Dream big, girl.

Jay's eyes softened as he took hold of my hand. "Look, I'll be right by your side, okay?" he assured me, "So go on. Tell them how you feel,"

Strangely comforted by the equally strangely mellow Jay, I determinedly walked up to my ex-best friends with my head held up high.

They looked at me strangely, and it wasn't until I saw Jay grinning from the corner of my eye that I realized why. Jay still had a hold on my hand, and I had adamantly declared that I had no feelings for him a few minutes ago.

With much difficulty, I snagged my hand off Jay's - who made it difficult just to annoy Asher, I suspect - and inhaled deeply.

"Evie, Asher," I began with a dramatic tone - What? If my life is going to be like Gossip Girl, might as well exaggerate it - to my voice, "Please let me speak first. I want to let you know how hurt I was when I saw the two of you together. I was shocked; betrayed. I didn't want to believe it at first, you know? I thought maybe I was just hallucinating, and when I look back again, I'd see something else..."

It's gone quiet now. Evie and Asher are looking at me intently. I snuck a look at Jay, who winked back at me and gave a discreet jerk with his head to tell me to go on.

"...but I didn't. I still saw the two of you, the two people whom I believed in most in the world, betraying me. I was heart-broken. My best friends breaking the pact we made. You didn't even try to contact me, to tell me that, "Hey, Kaitlyn, we're dating now. Is that okay with you?". Maybe I would've been okay with it, maybe I would've given you my blessings. But you didn't..."

I stopped, hesitantly bringing my eyes up to look at the two people standing in front of me. Evie and Asher, always so fabulous in appearance no matter the situation.

"Kaitlyn," Asher was first to reply, "I...I realized I never did apologize. I just wanted to say that I was sorry for all that I did, or didn't do that day," I looked up at Asher in surprise, "I'm sorry for not thinking things through that day," He cleared his throat, "For letting my emotions run away with me. I still love you. I really do."

Evie faced me, her cerulean eyes flashing with anger. "This is why I hate you! I've always hated you! I thought we could be the best of friends when we first met, I really did! But when you told me that you were with Asher, that was it! I hated you from then!" she screamed, "I love Asher more than you ever did! I've loved him since we were in kindergarten! I even applied to the same high school so that I could be with him!"

I was taken aback. I really was. I never knew that Evie had such strong feelings for Asher. Love, huh? I wonder if I'll ever feel that way.

For a surreal moment, I swear my eyes flickered over to Jay as I thought that. Goodness, I must be extremely stressed out as of lately.

Then, something clicked into place.

"Evie, I don't even like Asher in the romantic way anymore. I may have had felt the smallest of stirs, but being apart from the both of you has given me time to think. If you want Asher, I give you all my support," I told her firmly, before turning to Asher, "You still love me, but not that way, am I right?"

Asher swallowed, and stepped back as he nodded. "Yes. But how did you know?"

Evie's dark look of hatred morphed into one of confusion; her blue eyes were wide in question. I smiled, knowing what was going on in Asher's mind.

"Because, Asher, didn't I say I had time to think?" I explained slowly, carefully wording my thoughts, "I know you. You're an almost perfect human being, so it makes sense that you're basically faultless. You could never lead a girl on, it's just not you. You love me, but not the way that you used to think it was. You have feelings for me, but as a sister and a best friend,"

"I..." Asher was at a loss, he was probably shocked at my sudden flair of spiritual intelligence.

Well, believe me, Asher. So am I.

Even Evie is slightly taken aback; her pale eyebrows had shot up into her hairline. I could feel the warmth radiating off Jay beside me, and I was glad for it, because the autumn chill was getting to my bones. Maybe I should've worn a thicker coat or something.

"You love Evie," I decided to say, "But you just didn't know it, because you've known each other for such a long time. When I came, that was when I became a threat to Evie, and your feelings started to make sense to you,"

Asher had nothing to say, but he smiled as he shook his head in disbelief. "I always knew you were a rather astute girl," he sounded rather wistful. Honestly, I feel like I've been insulted. I am intelligent to certain degree, you know! "But to be able to read into me this much... I'm proud to have been able to call you my best friend,"

Evie, standing beside Asher, was shell-shocked. I wouldn't blame her - I would be too, if a childhood love has finally been reciprocated after so long. "Asher?" her voice was barely a whisper; it was as if she thought that if she were to speak in a louder voice, what had just happened would turn out to be an illusion.

Asher gave the blonde a sheepish smile, shoving his hands into his pockets like he always did when he was feeling shy. "I meant to tell you after we patched things up with Kaitlyn," he admitted, "Sorry it took so long for me to realize what I feel for you. I've been blind,"

"Damn straight," I put in unnecessarily, "Now I think it's time to kiss and make up!"

The two of them looked visibly startled by my brash suggestion; scandalized, even. I raised an eyebrow as Jay started to chuckle beside me. "What?" I asked defensively, "It's not like the two of you haven't kissed in front of a bunch of people before! And I was your best friend! There's nothing to be afraid of!"

Evie grinned; I'll admit that despite her shortcomings, she was still a good person. She was just sensitive, like all other girls. "As much as I would like to do so, I think we'll just take this new level of our relationship slowly," her eyes moved to look at Asher, "Just like the level before,"

Asher seemed to agree, but I was dissatisfied. "Fine, be like that," I stomped childishly, "Just don't forget to call me for your wedding!"

Evie gasped and aimed a smack at my arm, but I stepped back, laughing. Asher was furiously blushing now; he was always a shy one.

"Thank you, Kait. For everything," Asher sounded earnest, as he linked hands with Evie, "We'll miss you,"

"Bye. I'll e-mail you sometime," Evie promised with another smile.

I nodded as I waved at their retreating figures. Finally, the drama is done. Have I mentioned how much I hate confrontations? At least this one came out okay. Nice to know that I have finally done something right.

I heard sniffling beside me. What the-? Jay's crying!?

I saw Jay with his arms covering his face. "Oh please, that is so touching (insert sniffle), so melodramatic (insert sniffle), so sentimental (insert sniffle)," boy, his sniffles are getting on my nerves, "I can't help but cry!!"

"J-Jay?" I was incredulous.

Jay uncovered his face, grinning his impish grin. "Psyche!"

"You weren't crying??" I asked. Heh. I knew those sniffles were exaggerated. Who am I kidding? This guy's broken probably about billions of hearts by now. Jerk.

"Of course I am! My heart's practically flooding with tears right now," Jay said, the grin still lazily stretched across his handsome face.

"Sure it is," I said misanthropically.

"It is! It is!" he insisted, "It's bleeding too!"

"U-huh." I said, distracted by the cars whizzing by. I started for home and Jay followed.

"It's really bleeding, you know," Sudden change in tone. His voice was quiet.

"Sure, sure it is," I murmured, thinking of Evie and Asher. A small part of me was wondering why Jay suddenly seemed so serious. "Why?" I asked after a moment's thought.

Jay grinned again. "Nothing special!" he said, "I'll see you at school, all right? Kitty's gotta get some rest!"

I watched as Jay ran ahead of me, whistling a random, happy tune. I wonder why he had seemed so weird earlier today, and serious just now. Maybe he's having his own problems too?

I shook my head and laughed at myself. This is the number one seducer in Sandfields Academy. He can get any girl he wants with a click of his fingers. Who am I kidding?

He's certainly the last person I'd expect to have love problems of his own.

Chapter Eight

2009-08-16T02:00:00.000-07:00

Reference: Taylor Swift's You Belong With Me is mentioned here. I lub this song! And mentions of Twilight, Edward Cullen and Bella Swann, Lucas Till and DAVID ARCHULETA!!! 

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

So tell me.

How does one describe the setting where you're seated on a sofa with two of your new friends, and two girls on the sofa opposite of yours, one who was your best friend?

Awk-ward.

Both Jay and Gabriel fidgeted uncomfortably next to me; Dakota had serenely given her brother a smile with a threateningly quiet, "Jay, Kaitlyn's your guest."

When someone emphasizes their last word like that, you obviously know what's going to happen to you if you happen to defy the order hidden among the sentence. Gabriel had decided to stay as well, instead of heading down to the recording basement because, well, Dakota's smile scared him too. To be honest, I'm quite frightened myself.

Fifteen-year-old girls who look like harmless lambs are not what they always seem to be, let me tell you.

Evie broke the silence first.

"You never said you were moving here," Evie said, her tone clipped and cold. Ouch? She's not as nice as the other Evie. The school nurse, I mean. Ms. Summers. Ms. Summers is way nicer and is not as catty as this Evie is.  

I shrugged indifferently. "Well, you never asked. Besides, when I told you my parents were sending me to live with my aunt somewhere, you never replied,"

"I did reply," she sniffed, throwing back some of her hair over her shoulder.

Yeah. Well, your reply wasn't that much of a reply, was it? All the e-mail said was, "Oh. Too bad. You'll miss the awesome Back-to-School BBQ party that Tanya's throwing at the beach!"

Now you tell me, is that or is that not a proper reply when a person who has been your best friend for two years tells you they're moving!?  

Exactly my point.

"What are you doing with him anyway?" she asked, directing her eyes towards Jay.

Ah. Jay. Always the centre of attention. Bloody limelight hog.

"We're acquaintances," Jay put in helpfully.  

"He dragged me here against my will," I said dryly.  

"Who are you, by the way?" Dakota, Jay's sister, asked. "You don't look like you're from around here,"

"I suppose you know my name already, but I'm Kaitlyn Hunter," I replied, smiling a polite smile. Well, I can't be rude to a person in her own house, now can I? Sans Jay, by the way. He's a special case. "The person your delightful and dear brother molested and kidnapped,"

Okay. So I lied about the etiquette. Doesn't everyone do that?

I looked at Evie again. "Why are you here anyway?" I asked, because I really was curious, "It's not summer holidays anymore. They are way long over." 

"Asher insisted on coming to look for you, since it's Friday and we have no school tomorrow," she muttered, "And he left me at some nasty little random chain restaurant to look up your address, and that's when I met Dakota, who then brought me here,"

"Asher did?" I echoed, dumbfounded.

Gabriel elbowed me lightly in the ribs. "Kaitlyn!" he whispered into my ear, "Who's Asher?"

Good question. I did say that I had friends and a best friend in Boston, but I guess I forgot to mention something else.

Something like, my other best friend?  

Evie, who was the queen of gossip back at our high school, earned her title by being able to hear just about anything and transmitting anything interesting to anyone who passes by. Actually, now that I think about it, I can't believe I was ever BFFs with her. Woe is me, truly. 

"Who's Asher?" she gave me a pointed look; her eyes reminded me of my homeroom teacher, "I can't believe you would just bury Asher like that. What kind of sick b-person are you?"  

Sick person? I'll bet everything I have that she was gonna say sick bitch. Oops. Pardon my language.

"Says the person who chose a party over someone who was supposed to be her best friend," I muttered, standing up, "Forget it. I'm leaving,"  I stormed out of the room and mansion. 

-

I felt pretty bad later, though. Leaving just like that, unannounced. I did promise the guys that I'd record with them and stuff, but I broke it. I stared at the folder containing lyrics of all the Lightning Devils' songs. Maybe I am a bitch, for being so mean like that. I can't really face Evie now, or Asher for that matter.  

"Kaitlyn??"

Speak of the devil. I glanced up and got a shock. A dirty-blond-haired guy with cognac-colored eyes looked at me as if he were seeing an apparition of me. Asher.  Memories that I created with him and Evie came flooding back into my mind, a dam that I created whilst packing my things and crying, broken open.  

"Asher?"

Asher, as heartbreakingly handsome as always, gazed at me, his jaws wide open. "I can't believe it... I found you! You're alive!" 

"Uh, Asher, I moved. Not died,"

Bless my sarcasm to always work, even in the most sombre of situations.

I stood up from the bench I was sitting on, and started walking away. Well, tried to walk away. Asher caught my arm. "Are you avoiding me?" he asked me incredulously, "After all I did coming all the way to this place to look for you?"  "I never asked you to," I reasoned with a snide tone, taking a few steps away from Asher. I'm not taking any chances with a very emotional guy.

Asher Greene, a perfect male specimen standing at five foot nine; hair like the sandy dunes and liquid amber eyes. A package of a male model. An All-American Golden Boy with stellar achievements who is every parent's dream child. My… best guy friend.  

I know what you all are thinking. What a waste, isn't it?  

"Kaitlyn..." Asher had that sad puppy look on his face that never failed to capture the hearts of girls who are into sensitive guys; his brows knitted together and his eyes were large and sorrowful. He stepped closer towards me. Damn it. His arms are reaching out towards me!

I don't like it.

It's kinda creepy, somehow.

"What are you doing here anyway?" I asked, laughing nervously. Not good.

Asher stopped his advances towards me, but he still had his eyes locked into a steady gaze with mine. "I came to bring you back,"

Well, he's as straight-to-the-point as usual.  

"Well, you can't," I answered, "Because this is where I'm supposed to live now,"

"But we all miss you..."  Yeah. Sure. Sure you do.  "Uh-huh...so that explains why I watched you and Evie kiss the day I was supposed to leave?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, "Quite strange, considering the fact that, oh, I don't know, you told me that you had fallen for me?"  

That caught him there.   Asher's eyes grew wider in shock.

"H-how did you-?" he sputtered.

"I was there," I deadpanned, "I dropped by the beach so I could say goodbye since none of you bothered to send me off at the airport, so I decided to say goodbye there. Instead of doing so, what did I see my ex-best friends do but kiss? The both of you broke our promise."  

"It wasn't intentionally, I swear. We were drunk," Asher put in; there was a slightly desperate tone to his voice.

"Passionately, might I add?" I said. Even though I feel hurt, it felt kind of good too, to finally let it all out into the open. "Both of you seemed perfectly sober. As far as I'm concerned, I'm pretty sure Tanya is very much against alcoholic drinks since that accident her boyfriend had. So I'm sure there wasn't anything to make you guys drunk and kiss behind my back,"  

"But if you just let me explain-!"

"I do not want to hear anything from a big, fat, frickin' liar!" I seethed, silencing Asher with my outburst.

A few quiet minutes crawled by, as he obviously had nothing to say to my rage, and I sighed. I wanted to get out of here.   "Please, go home with Evie and don't ever come back," I said softly, and walked away from him, "Do me a favor. Bye."

-  

To be honest, I was feeling pretty down after that. I went to another park; this time I made sure there was no one I knew present before I sat on a bench and huddled there, listening to my iPod. Taylor Swift and David Archuleta both helped me with their songs when I first felt the stabs of betrayal and hurt.

'It rains when you're here, it rains when you're gone, and I was there when you said forever and always...'

As I listened to Taylor's voice, I vividly imagined my own life back in Boston. I really should clarify a few things here. 

Evie and Asher had been my world; they had been the best friends I ever had. My parents' jobs required a lot of moving around, since they were both writers. They needed to go to places for inspiration and research; all that author-y stuff. So when they finally decided, "Enough! We shall settle down in Boston!", I was mad for joy.

I always referred to Boston as my home. We had never settled down longer in any other place than Boston. Come to think of it, I don't even know where my real hometown is.  

Evie had been the first person to talk to me, to tell me where the best places around were. She was the popular one, the one that guys always wanted to ask out. Evie had dismissed the fact that the both of us had been completely different people with two different personalities that didn't match. She had been my best friend.  

She was the one who had introduced me to Asher. We hit it off instantly, because of our mutual interest in many things. Asher was always the one who helped me get through the tough times at school, like the time when I had forgotten to study for a test and he helped me cram by giving me quick notes he'd make especially for me, or when the time he had filled in for me when I got sick and was unable to help the cheerleading squad be their mascot.

It just happened - how, I do not know - but I found that I was increasingly attracted to Asher. Who wouldn't, though? He's a frickin' real-life Gary Stu. Then, he had admitted that he had fallen for me, a week before I found out that I was moving. I had been happy, I guess, knowing that my feelings could be reciprocated despite the long distance.

But we had an agreement. The three of us would still be best of friends; nothing in the equilibrium of our friendship was going to change. We would suppress any different kind of feeling for the sake of our friendship.

I suppose I had been played. Made fun of. Ridiculed. Lied to. Seriously, I can't believe I ever actually thought that Asher had been telling the truth, and that Evie had kept her promise, even for a second. I shouldn't have; it was impossible. 

Despite knowing that, I was unable to accept the fact that the two people whom I trust the most betrayed me like that. My two best friends. Unconsciously, my eyes started to tear up.

"Kaitlyn?"

I looked up to the familiar voice. Leo. He looked at me with his startling blue eyes; his golden eyebrows furrowed. He looks concerned... I think. 

What?? He may be mad at me for ditching them, you know. I know I would. It's rude to ditch without informing people involved in said ditching.  

"What are you doing here?" I asked him, hastily wiping away my tears, trying to look as casual as possible. I trained my puffy eyes on the folder, hoping that I passed off as nonchalant.  Leo took a seat beside me on the bench.

"Well, when I showed up at Jay's place with the other guys, he told me that you left suddenly..." he trailed off, "Why?"

Trying to look like I am not sad: Epic, collosal FAIL.  

I shook my head, hugging my knees tightly to my chest. "It's...kinda complicated to explain,"  

Leo smiled. "I can do complicated,"  

Wow. This is so... Twilight. It's like, I'm Bella, he's Edward, Edward asks Bella about her life, she says it's complicated. Edward can do complicated too, you know?  "Are you quoting Edward Cullen?" I asked, a smile itching at the corners of my mouth. It's kind of stupid, yet funny, at the thought of the suave Leo quoting a sparkly vampire off a movie, "That is so lame,"  

Leo chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Well, you caught me there," he admitted, "My sister asked me to watch the Twilight saga with her yesterday. She practically had me strapped and chained back into a chair while re-watching the movies five times. It was hell, considering the fact I only got two hours of sleep before I had to get ready for school," 

Ah. That explains why I bumped into him this morning.

"Must've been agony," I commented while making a face, "Watching the same movies over and over again,"  "You do not want to know what other movies she had me watching the other day,"  "Try me," I challenged.  

"Then you tell me what's up first," he replied.

Well...  

"The girl with Dakota is my ex-best friend," I confessed, "And I just met my other ex-best friend not too long ago,"  

And then I started blabbing everything.  

I know. I can't believe myself either. Pouring my heart out to a guy who's notorious for breaking girls' heart? Something is very wrong with me. But still... it's kind of refreshing. 

"Well, Kaitlyn, I must say, if they came looking for you, maybe there's this little thing that's bugging their subconscious," Leo said in a sagely manner, after I was finally done ranting, "Maybe they want you to forgive them? You could have been mistaken about your notions for their actions, and they want to explain it to you," 

"But I just can't..." I said softly, staring at the sky. Clouds swathed the twilight sky; a faint dull ache starting throbbing at the back of my mind. Oh God, this is so scene-off-a-movie-ish.

"I'm pretty damn sure you can," came Leo's reply, "After all, this is the girl that called Asher a 'big fat frickin' liar', we're talking about,"

A bubble of laughter escaped from me; I couldn't help it. It sounded pretty darn silly when I think about it, acting like a kid and calling Asher something like that. How much more classier can I get?

"Well, you have to face them at some point of your life," Leo reasoned, as I faced him again. A smile played at his lips. "Might as well do it now."

"I trusted the both of them so much, but they backstabbed me," I said bitterly, "How would you feel if someone did that to you? Literally? I could demonstrate if you'd like,"  

At this point, both of us were looking right into each other's eyes. You know, to make my point come across clearly. It is strictly for that matter and NOT romantic. At. All.

Well... I'm having second thoughts on that one.

As I buried my face into my arms again, Leo reached out, and stroked my head comfortingly. I could feel the temperature within me rise, as I processed the fact that he was touching me and I had not screamed yet.

What is wrong with me? 

Chapter Seven

2009-08-01T07:13:00.000-07:00

I do not own Gossip Girl, Paramore, and definitely not Isaac Newton. But I do own the whole story, plot, characters and the sad attempt of a song here.

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

"You do NOT fraternize with the enemy!"

I heard Jay shout loudly, and the next thing I knew, I was pulled back, away from Dash and I became the apple to Jay's Isaac Newton as he had Dash up against the wall, holding him by the collar of his shirt while I sprawled gracelessly on my back against the ground. Jay's face was the colour he saw - red - and his jaw became even more defined as he clenched his teeth. His eyes darkened as they narrowed into a glare, but nothing that had happened seemed to faze Dash, who merely countered the angry Jay with a laconic smirk. Could he be any more masochistic? Collective gasps of horror could be heard from the two women who were watching the escalating violence with pale faces from their desks.

What's his problem - Jay's - anyway? I let him get away with the creepy, flirty comments he gives me, let him call me kitty (I don't really care anymore. What's the point of teaching an old dog new tricks?) and let him drag me off in the middle of a school day, despite the well-established fact that I am not the brightest student around.

And what do I get? I big fat bruise possibly forming on my ass because he had pulled me so roughly, that I fell smack down onto the cold, tiled floor. Dude, I'm actually lucky that I haven't hit my tailbone and been paralyzed!

I am so getting a more expensive health insurance now.

I groaned, and Leo, who had come out already, proceeded to help me up like the gentlenotman he is as he rushed over, kneeling down to grab hold of my hand.

"You okay, beautiful?" Leo asked, and for a split second he actually seemed genuinely worried, with the way troubled creases formed on his forehead and his golden eyebrows knitted together. But the 'beautiful' comment basically erased all traces of earnestness from existence.

"Sure, if you think having a butt-bruise is okay," I grumbled, "That guy needs some serious anger management,"

Which is true. Jay looks like someone just killed his family and now he's Uchiha Sasuke taking his long-awaited revenge on Uchiha Itachi a.k.a. Dash Stryker. Except, I remember that Itachi merely gave Sasuke a look of boredom, like he really had something else better to do - True. Itachi pwnz! - while Dash was providing a catalyst for Jay's anger with that arrogant smirk of his. I must say though, Dash and Itachi do have something in common: painted fingernails. And Jay and Sasuke? Apart from the otherworldly and overbearing attitude that radiates of them in big, tsunami-sized waves, they are nothing alike.

For one thing, I'm pretty sure there's no Naruto for him to bully, and he's not gay either. I know Sasuke isn't really gay, but everyone who is sane in the Naruto fanbase knows that behind all that angst, bloodlust and sneers, Sasuke really lusts for Naruto. If he didn't, he wouldn't exactly go to great pains to-

Okay. I'm getting out of topic. Back to reality. God, what is wrong with me? Here is a potentially barbarous situation which could get Jay suspended if he touches Dash, or in the worst case scenario, expulsion and all I'm doing is thinking about Sasuke and Naruto. Mom always did say I had a knack for doing things in the wrong times.

Dash now looked bored, rather than scared or pissed off. In fact, he was kind of amused, judging by one corner of his lips curving into a malicious smirk. "Over-possessive, aren't you, Stanford?" he commented loftily, "What is she? Your girlfriend?"

What the bleep!?

Jay started spluttering; the redness on his face was probably for another reason now. His grip on Dash loosened as he attempted to form coherent words with his mouth, but failing to do so. I guess he has the right to. I mean, like, who in the world wants to be his girlfriend?

Okay. So I asked a rhetorical question when I know the answer. The truth hurts my feminine pride, but I know that the real question here would be: Jay could have any girl in the world with a snap of his fingers, including the ones that ooze liquid sexiness as they walk down runways in four-inch platforms, dressed in tight-fitting clothes that reveal all womanly curves that all men would die to have their hands on, so why the hell me?

But still, what is wrong with that boy?

I pushed past Leo, who seemed to be getting pretty worked up as well. He had his fists clenched into a bloodless white; I could tell that it was taking him everything to control his urges to give Dash a black eye. I went up to Jay, who still had Dash immobilized against the wall despite the loosened grip.

"Listen here, Stryker," I hissed, "The relationship between Jay and I is strictly platonic, you hear me? We. Have. NOTHING. Going on. "

"Uh-huh," Dash nodded, the very humored look still on his face. Ugh. I totally want to slap him right now. A nice, tight slap - totally got that off my old History teacher. Was a nice, salt-and-pepper haired lady in her fifties. - that'll leave a clear imprint of my hand on his cheek for a while, and every time someone asks what happened, he'd have to say he got his ass kicked metaphorically.

In fact, you know what? I think I will.

I zoned in on him, my eyes narrowing into my best glower as I growled in frustration and irritation.

"Bring it, I suppose," Dash was grinning widely, his cheeks stretched to the maximum point. It was a wonder that he hasn't shown any signs of strain yet, with all that facial muscle stretching going on.

I raised my hand to slap him squarely on the jaw, but Leo and Jay both grabbed my wrist, and pulled a struggling me back as I shrieked, "What!? You're protecting this mother effing son of a not-literally-a-bitch!?"

Jay shook his head grimly, having released Dash from his grasp when he had stopped me earlier. "We'll get suspended if we do anything violent within school grounds, and have our chances of playing at the Winter Dance revoked,"

"Sexual harassment! And he said to bring it!"

"Kitty." The hard and pointed look Jay was giving me made me back off, dampening my desire to bring harm upon that evilly handsome face of Dashielle Stryker. Well, Jay's right. But there must be justice served, for this guy freakin' deserves to have his face in the ground, lying in a bloody pool!

Life stinks.

I grumbled some more and stalked away, taking care to distance myself from Dash. Leo had this slightest look of amusement on his face as he stood beside me, and had an amused eyebrow raised as he said, "Anger management?"

"Shut. Up."

I watched as Jay seemed to utter a few more words to Dash, probably a warning. Dash nodded as he rolled his eyes as the serious expression on Jay's face hardened. Jay lifted his hand to gesture towards Leo and I, and Dash sighed - clearly, with the excitement having passed over, it wasn't fun anymore - as he nodded once again, opening his mouth to speak. Only then, did Jay release his hold on Dash's arm and walked back to us, with Dash going towards the opposite direction.

"As it turns out, Lucifer is our main competitor for the spot in the Winter Dance," he reported. He looked really agitated right now, but not as much as he was before. "Which is quite unfair, since they're not even amateurs,"

Not amateurs? Maybe I should Google them or something. I have a suspicion that if I typed 'asshole' and 'Lucifer', the search engine would probably show up with, 'Did you mean: Dashielle Stryker'.

Leo seemed to be processing the fact; mulling over Jay's words. "Well, I guess we'll have to send in our original CD, not the covers. I'll talk to Gabriel about it,"

"I have a question," I asked, raising a hand.

"Shoot."

"What exactly is the Winter Dance?"

Leo and Jay started laughing and I huffed indignantly as I crossed my arms in defiance. "Well, it's not my fault that I've only been here for only two days!"

They're so mean. I feel like kicking their asses right now. But I shouldn't. Because there is no meaning in doing so when I was denied permission to spill metaphorical Dashielle Stryker's blood on the stone tiles of the school building.

Leo was the first one to stop laughing, while Jay still chortled like the stupid moron he is. "The Winter Dance is one of the biggest social event here in Sandfields Academy besides the Spring Prom. Everyone wants to go, even adults, because it's spectacular every year," he explained, "Last year, a white Bengal tiger was brought in to do tricks,"

Okay. I was mistaken. Genevieve and I are the only poor students in the school. Everyone else probably rolls in pools of money as a penguin-suited butler stands nearby, holding a towel and asking, "What car shall you be taking to school today, master? The -insert expensive car here- or the -insert expensive car here- ?" and the person'll probably answer with a different but equally expensive car and probably go, "I feel like going low-key today.". I mean, white Bengal tigers!? Bengal tigers could be acceptable, but white ones!?

I think I misheard.

"You have got to be kidding me," My expression probably mirrored my tone of disbelief as I widened my eyes.

"It's true," Jay said, recovering from his chortling episode. "This year, the performing band gets to do a cover of one Paramore song with Paramore itself, since one of the school contributors are doing a term-partnership with their label, Fueled by Ramen,"

WHATHEEFFINGBBQ!?

"WHAAAT!?" I screamed, "PARAMORE!!!!??"

I heard desk chairs scrape, and I think Ms. Reynolds and Ms. Smith are looking over at me right now. Well, not everyone screams out of the blue like me, I guess. I could hardly believe my ears. If I'm dreaming, please don't wake me up, because I'm definitely enjoying it. Jay nodded in confirmation, and I felt a bit faint.

"It's good publicity for us if we do," Leo pointed out, "That's why we're keen on getting the spot that's coveted by every single amateur band here in school, and of course we know how much you love Paramore,"

Like hell yeah!

"So, we're gonna have to change the songs in our album a bit," Jay decided, "Since all the songs we have don't have your voice in it, kitty,"

"When do we start??" I asked eagerly. Anything for a golden meeting with Paramore. I don't care if I have to skip school (Actually, I do. But details can wait!). Once in a lifetime chances should not be taken lightly!

Jay grinned that cocky grin of his. "Come over to my house after school, and in the meantime, listen to this," He held out a jet-black iPod nano. "Listen to the album with the name of the band. I'll be claiming that later, all right, kitty?" He winked at me and headed for homeroom with Leo.

Which, by the way, I'm late for again.

Insert an exaggerated sigh here. I wonder why do I even bother?

-

I had a free period during the period before lunch, so I took this opportunity to go to the study hall to listen to Jay's iPod. I spent the whole hour listening to the album. Everything inside was, of course, of the rock genre, but some were kind of sad; some upbeat. There was this one song that I particularly liked. The lyrics were kind of weird, but it was played to a cheery and fast rhythm. A part of the song went like this:

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'm looking for the blast
from my past
Even though it's been years
It's bound to bring tears

We used to play games
during long, long summers,
But one day everything seemed to go up in flames,
when I saw you leaving in one of those big Hummers.

I still can't believe
that you left me bereaved
Empty promises were made
And you left me feeling betrayed.

I'm looking for the
blast from my past
Even though it's been years
t's bound to bring tears
It's bound to bring tears...

I looked down onto the illuminated screen to see the name of the song. Blast From My Past. Well, it's a fitting name for the song, seeing how the phrase popped up during the chorus. But I can't believe someone like Jay wrote it. The song talked about the past, where he had a childhood friend who one day suddenly left, and now he's looking for her?

Absolutely no comment there. You kind of don't mix arrogant, handsome boys with sweet-sounding lyrics of innocent, childish love. You just don't. I really should mind my own business. Except...

Okay, since my name's 'kitty' I should live true to my name, right? Like curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back? I'm really curious to know who's the inspiration for that song. Who knew Jay's still hungover a girl who left him?

Ahhh. Young love, young love.

God, now I'm starting to sound like some old geezer who regularly spouts crap about the spring of youth or something.

The bell rang shrilly, signaling the end of the period and the start of lunch hour. I could practically hear every chair in the vast academy scrape back and the thundering feet of students who were deprived of their social oxygen.

I'm pretty sure everyone's whipping out their Blackberries and iPhones right now and texting each other, despite the fact that they're standing right next to each other. It's true. It happens right here in Sandfields Academy, just like the way it probably happens on Gossip Girl.

I picked up my books and headed for the cafeteria after depositing them inside my locker. I saw Gabriel seated at the same table, writing something down in a notebook as his dark bangs fell over his eyes. I plopped down on the bench opposite him. "What's up, Einstein?" I asked, smiling at him, "Homework?"

Gabriel looked up with that fazed look you get when you're doing something and someone interrupts you, and I couldn't help but marvel at how, well, pretty he was. There aren't any other words to describe his frail beauty. His skin was like porcelain - you're not supposed to touch it, but you can't help but sneak a tap because it's mesmerizing. His coal-black hair was shaggy and fell in soft, ebony waves as it framed his face and ghosted across his eyes. I swear, he's so beautiful that it breaks your heart when you look at him.

"Hey Kaitlyn," he smiled at me; his voice velvety smooth and a baritone that could make him a potential candidate for the Lightning Devils, "It's not homework. It's the list of places that I checked out for gigs for the band,"

See? He's so hardworking too, even though he didn't exactly beg for this job. He's like the perfect dream guy, but damn it, why am I not attracted to him?

One of the world's most intriguing mysteries, I kid you not. Every little freshman and sophomore girl keeps taking more than just a brief look at Gabriel whenever they happen to see him.

Gabriel pointed at me. "What's that?" he titled his head sideways. I felt up my face and got a fistful of wires. Right.

I pulled out the earbuds of the iPod and I heard Jay's distinct voice. "Hey kitty!"

How infuriating. Doesn't he know how I hate it when people call me from the distance at a very public place? It's very attention-grabbing, and I hate being conspicuous, especially when I'm with him.

Sorry. I forgot that I've only known the little prick for under forty-eight hours.

I rolled my eyes and Gabriel chuckled. I felt someone pat a hand on my shoulder. I'm betting it's Jay. And surprise, surprise! It was.

"What do you want, Stanford?" I asked as he sat down beside me.

"What do you think of our album?" Jay asked, grinning. Leo was taking a seat beside Gabriel, and the both of them started going over the list, their voices only in soft murmurs.

I sipped the carton of apple juice I'd gotten from the vending machine. "Let's see...it's actually pretty good." I said conversationally, "But I don't think I can memorize all of them at one go,"

Jay patted my hand. "It's no problem. You can look at the lyrics sheet when we're recording. No one's gonna know. Besides, that's what singers do,"

I pulled my hand away. "I said, no touching," I snapped, "Anyways, when do we start recording?"

"Later, at my house." Jay said, "We'll practice a bunch of the songs, then do a tentative recording first."

He has a recording studio in his house? Wait. Why do I sound so surprised?

"Tentative how??"

"It's just the way I call trial recording. Sounds smart, doesn't it? Anyways, basically, we just play a few bars, then replay it to see if it's good or not,"

Wow. This kind of stuff is actually really complicated sounding, yet Jay made it seem like a breeze. Maybe it is a breeze for him. I mean, they've been in the music industry for longer than I have, amateur or not. Or, the only theory that makes sense, is that it's not even hard at all. I mean, I saw it once on TV. They just push the gauge thingies or whatever they call it on some big place filled with techie stuff.

Well, whatever it is, I ain't going near it.

By this time, Jordan, Tyson and Lance (reading The Great Expectations this time) joined us at the table. I somehow have this nagging feeling that the table is soon going to become a permanent place for us.

I had never intended to be tied down like this. It's kind of surprising for me, because before I came here, dating had been casual, and I never joined anything permanently. I was always in motion, going in and out of an extracurricular club once a month. If I liked it well enough, maybe two. The only thing that I permanently had a place in were the art rooms. Oh, and that-

Okay. Not going there. Steer clear of it!! No reminiscing of memories.

Tyson seemed to study me, as he sat down with his tray. "I heard from Jay that he had you listen to the album," he said conversationally as he tore open the package of his sandwich.

I nodded, crunching on the nut bar I'd gotten from a vending machine. Vending machine food is much more cheaper than the cafeteria food here. "Yeah."

"What'd you think?" Jordan asked, carelessly setting down his own tray and a glossy gaming magazine was tossed next to it.

I shrugged casually. "I have to admit, your original stuff is pretty good," I said, a little grudgingly as Jay started to preen like a peacock beside me.

"Really?" Leo asked, turning up from his conversation with Gabriel, "Which song are you particularly drawn to?"

I looked down at the bulky MP3 player in my hands, fiddling with it. "Well, everything could be addictive, if you listened to all of them a couple of times," I admitted, "But Track Five is the favourite,"

Jay raised his eyebrows, as if he was surprised. I think he really was surprised. "Blast from My Past?" he queried.

"That's the one," I confirmed, nodding.

"Ooh. A lot of girls say that this song particularly reminds them of their childhood crush," Jay said, then he gave me a sly look. "Did it remind you of your childhood love?"

I felt all eyes at the table on me, even Lance's. I swallowed hard. It was something that I did not want to talk about.

"So, which track are we recording first?" I asked in a too-fake light tone, digressing the subject.

Leo seemed to understand my need of privacy, because he had answered first. "That song. You must have listened to it more times than the rest, so we'll do that first,"

Okay, apart from having a natural sense of public relations, he also knows the way of humans pretty well. He's not just any male bimbo, he's a pretty brainy male bimbo. Well, that's a surprise, considering the fact that I almost believed in my self-made theory that he had taken a course in flirting and womanizing and graduated with a PhD.

What? Practically anything's possible now these days.

"All right. So where's Jay's house?" I asked.

Jay smirked. "I shall personally escort you there," he said, "Alone."

Oh no he won't.

"With Gabriel," I added, smiling back at him.

Jay's smirk dropped a little. "Fine," he grumbled childishly.

-

Fast forward a few hours later, Gabriel was faithfully waiting outside the gates for me, as I walked towards him with a sulking Jay. "So you don't have a car?" I asked him in surprise.

Jay started walking the opposite direction from where I walked from. "I just live a little way off here. That's why I walk to school, rather than drive. It's a pain to drive at such a short distance,"

Ah. So Jay must be a poor kid like I am. Insert happy smiley face here!

As we got further, I saw that my notions were, sadly, incorrect. Only then did I remember Jay had said something about a recording studio. Curse my stupid memory for selectively omitting things to just disappoint me in the end when I finally remember! Every house here was more like a friggin' huge estate plus a plantation or something.

Sorry, too much Farmville on Facebook. I quit, though. It turned out that my black thumb did not only stop at real plants, but even virtual ones could not withstand it.

Jay stopped in front one of the estates, a big, fat golden block of the letter 'D' was visible on the iron-wrought gates. God, this is so corny - it totally reminded me of Veronica Lodge's place from the Archie Comics. A security guard - I half expected guards like the ones in Buckingham Palace with the furry hats, but I should expect that only in Leo's case - nodded his head in greeting at Jay as he poked his head out from the booth stationed near the gates.

"Jayden. Are those your friends?" he asked. Well, he certainly looks like he fits the job of a bodyguard more than a security guard. He's pretty damn fine-looking, black shades, suit an' all. Very James Bond. Oh, and the lilting Scottish accent is very very cute.

Jay nodded. "Cliff, this is kitty and Gabriel. Kitty, Gabriel, this is Cliff," he introduced quickly, "The others will be over later. We're going to the recording studio in the basement,"

"All right. Should I direct them?"

"Nah, they can look after themselves. Thanks for the offer, though!" Jay gave a short, friendly wave as he entered the gates, with Gabriel and I following behind him like little lost puppies. I think we really are lost, though. There's like a huge maze right in front of us, and I have no idea how we're going to maneuver through it.

"I know the way," Jay said, answering the question in my mind. Damn him. "My dad, the eccentric billionaire, guy who likes to test others, built this maze for the very purpose of testing house guests."

Rich people like to make fun of us poor people. Screw them.

"Your dad seems like a very considerate person," I mumbled crankily. I hate mazes. I'm not exactly the brightest penny around, you know. And the touching the wall thing while walking? It's totally bogus. Doesn't work at all.

"Didn't I tell you my great-grandfather is the founder of a music talent industry? In fact, this place has been a family home for at least three generations," Jay asked, surprised, "That's why it's pretty big and old-looking,"

Gabriel was faster than me in answering. "Yes, but if you remember correctly, Kaitlyn wasn't actually listening to any of us talk during that car ride,"

Oh. So that was what Jay was talking about.

Jay mumbled a few incoherent words as he helpfully navigated us out of the maze. I'm surprised. I thought an idiot like him had a short attention span. Goes to show, like Leo, you can never judge a book by it's cover.

The really huge double doors were opened by an elderly man, dressed in mud-stained clothes. He looked completely out of place with the meticulous background of polished marble-patterned floors and tasteful paintings hung against the snow-white walls. "Ah, Jayden, you're home! Your sister would like to take some of your time."

"Alright, Travis. Thanks," Jay sighed noisily, dumping his bag on an island in the middle of the hall and putting his guitar on a lone loveseat. "What does Dakota want now?"

"Should we follow him?" I whispered at Gabriel. "And was that a butler? If it was, this place is so damn cliche,"

Gabriel shrugged. "Well, we do have the right. We are his guests after all," he whispered back, "And I believe that was not a butler. I think it was a caretaker or a gardener, judging from his overalls and outdoorsy appearance,"

Boy speaks sense. We walked after Jay, following him towards a door-less frame. He stopped, leaning against the frame and I could see him scratching his head. Rude as ever, I see. "What do you want?" I heard him ask, his voice slightly annoyed.

A loud squeal erupted, followed by a series of "OMGOMGOMGOMG!! I LIKE TOTALLY LOVE YOU!!!"

Yes, people. Either sister Dakota is happy to see her brother, or sister Dakota has got a bimbo fangirl inside there with her. I choose the latter, because if I were Jay's sister, I'd avoid him as much as possible. In fact, I'd probably go out of the way to make sure nobody - and I do mean nobody - knows that we're related. At all.

I'm a very nosy person, and Gabriel apparently is one too, because we scrambled to see who were inside the room. Well, for the both of us, seeing a lone fangirl with Jay is something we haven't seen before, and we're not going to miss it now.

A petite girl with the same brown, sun-kissed locks and sea foam eyes that Jay has was seated on a sofa, her hands folded neatly across her lap and a serene expression on her pretty face. A blonde - oh my god, isn't that-!?

"Kaitlyn!?" the blonde screeched. Literally. Her blue eyes flashed wildly as she processed my presence, "What are you doing here!?"

I forced a smile, tapping my foot against the marble floor nervously. "Evie. Fancy seeing you here. I thought it was school-time back in Boston. On a sabbatical of sorts?"

The blonde, also known as Evie Trummond, is- sorry, was my best friend in Boston. We used to be super-tight and did everything together. But of course, who knew that when once you tell a friend that you're leaving, you're instantly a stranger?

I have a question. What is she doing here?

Chapter Six

2009-07-28T04:27:00.000-07:00

It was nearly nine by the time I got back to Aunt Elle's house. She was up and sitting at a table in the kitchen, typing on her laptop, her glasses perched on her nose. She looked up at me. "Kaitlyn. Well come back," she said, a small smile on her face.

Oh no. Not that smile!

I instantly got onto my knees and started grovelling. "IT'S NOT MY FAULTTT! ASK THE PEOPLE WHO KIDNAPPED ME!! THEY DID IT!!"

Yes. I have learned that dragging out your words in an attempt to whine your way out of an unfavorable situation never works, but at this point, none of that really matters, does it?

"What? I mean, come over here," Aunt Elle gestured over to the empty chair beside her, "I want to show you something,"

I shakily complied. I mean, if I don't, I swear, she's gonna throw me out. She's very very very deadly when she's pissed off. Once, when she visited us in Boston, she made this cab driver so scared 'till he ran off crying, not bothering to take his car with him, because he was thirty minutes late picking her up from the airport.

Anyways. Back to my execution.

I pulled the chair and placed it as far as possible from Aunt Elle. She looked up at me and pointed at her laptop screen. "Do you know who that is?"

I sat down, looking at her quizzically. "What's up?"

Aunt Elle gestured at her laptop, and my eyeballs nearly popped out and rolled onto the floor when I saw what she wanted me to look at.

MYSTERIOUS GIRL IN CAT MASK

Today, the hottest event of the normally chilly September month went even more fiery as the ever-popular and home-grown Lightning Devils made an appearance on stage as contenders of the Amateur Rock Bands Contest. They are said to be among the ranks of the world's most prominent bands of the now.

The familiar faces of the five fresh-faced teenagers of the exclusive Sandfields Academy were there of course; every single adoring female fan screaming and fainting at the sight of them. But as the last person to come on stage, the lead singer, guitarist and leader of the band, Jayden Stanford greeted the ecstatic crowd, no one expected the seventeen-year-old to make a shocking announcement.

"Today, we have a new addition!" screamed Jayden, "Please welcome the Lightning Kitty!"

A young lady, possibly a teenager, came out from the back of the stage, wearing a tacky yet mysterious black cat eye mask with the band's logo on it; a lightning bolt.

Some were outraged with the new addition, who could possibly ruin the band's popularity, but some were curious. As the band started their rendition of Brick by Boring Brick by Paramore though, everyone was blown away. The cat-girl had amazing stage presence, and her voice was breathtaking. The whole crowd fell in love with her voice and mysterious charm. Which brings up the current most popular question on the local and cyber news right now: Who exactly is the Lightning Kitty?

Whoa. I never expected that kind of thing. I mean, I guess the crowd did love me, but I never expected to be the internet's most hottest topic of the now.

I nearly had a nervous breakdown in the middle of the song, but I had simply shut my eyes and continued singing. The band's playing was so loud, that I couldn't hear the crowd. Jay had sung along with me, in a duet. I never expected a megalomaniac like him to have such an awesome voice. It was a surreal moment, when our voices harmonized and molded together, producing a sweet-sounding melody.

Please don't tell him I said that.

So, in conclusion, I am NOT telling any of those newshounds that I'm the Lightning Kitty. Or whatever crappy name they came up with, thanks to Jay's ingenius-not idea of giving me a cat mask.

"Kaitlyn, I know that's you," Aunt Elle looked at me. "I've known you since you were a baby. You can sing,"

O-kay. Time to lie. BIG TIME. I don't care if my teeth fall out or whether snakes will crawl out of my throat from the pits of my stomach. Those options are better than being shown to the pits of Hell by my aunt.

"What? Of course not! I don't hang out with guys like..." I glanced at the picture of my band-mates for emphasis, "…them."

Okay! Cue the innocent smile!

I smiled innocently at my aunt, who just looked at me with a disbelieving look. "Kaitlyn, next time you try to lie, maybe try changing your clothes first?"

Oops. I forgot about those.

Darn it.

This is a time where I should start to resent Chace again, fashion genius or not.

"Er...you're not gonna kill me, are you?" I asked her tentatively. "If you want, I'll resign. Leave. Storm out. Whatever term they use for singers who quit."

Aunt Elle just stared at me for a while, before breaking into a wide grin and throwing her arms around me. "Oh Katy!! You're singing again!" she exclaimed. She sounded like she was literally choking on her emotions.

I'd say menopause, but it's highly unlikely for a woman her age.

Well, I hope she doesn't choke and die. I don't want to disrupt my parents' vacays, nor do I want to end up with some stuffy ol' uncle, who lives in a creepy old manor in the middle of nowhere and has eldritch hobbies that involve tarantulas and pythons, that I have never known about until my parents tell me.

I laughed nervously. "I don't really wanna talk about what happened a few years ago, so yeah..." I mumbled, "I only wore that mask because I still have this thing for performing in front of big crowds. I promised Jay that I'd try, so I did,"

I heard sniffling. Oh god. I don't want to end up all night comforting emotional women when I'm supposed to be doing my homework!

"Aunt Elle! Don't cry! It's no big deal, really!" I thrust a box of Kleenex towards her; a lame attempt at comforting. I'm no good at these kind of things.

Aunt Elle took the box and noisily blew her nose into a tissue. "It's just that, I missed hearing your voice ever since-,"

"Remember what I said? I don't really want to talk about it," I cut her off, "Well, I gotta go now, I have lots of HW to do,"

I quickly stood up from the chair and ran upstairs, leaving my aunt to cry alone with the companionship of her Dell laptop.

Yes, I'm a heartless niece. I know.

I tiptoed past Genevieve's room, the soft thudding of my boots barely audible. I do not need to deal with annoying thirteen-year-old brats right now. I was definitely ready to plotz after a long day.

There's my door! Nearly there...

"Kaitlyn!" a sharp and commanding, yet squeaky voice said.

No plotzing now. Boo hoo.

"Yes, brat?" I asked pleasantly, turning around to face the newly teenaged menace, also known as Genevieve I am Princess Barbie in the Flesh Except Without the Blonde Hair Hunter.

"Where were you? You were supposed to wait for me after school!" she demanded angrily, eyes flashing angrily.

Genevieve looks a little like me, except that her eyes are a shade lighter than mine, and while her hair mirrors my auburn locks, it's longer. She's a little on the short side, despite the fact that she's a dancer and she's currently trying to pontificate all her sentences, because 'that's what madame says I should do in order to be the best ballerina there is'.

Oh. I should mention that she's one of those rare people who actually pick up ballet as a childhood activity and intends to go pro when she's older.

I shrugged at her accusation. "If I remembered correctly, you didn't say anything. You were too busy primping and preening yourself in front of the mirror before school when I left," I said with a matter-of-fact tone, "And I'm seventeen. I have friends to hang out with,"

Genevieve rolled her eyes like the Barbie brat she is. "Whatev."

Whatev? I wonder which senior bimbo did she pick that up from?

"You can't have friends." she reasoned, "Because it's the first day of school for you, plus, no one wants to be friends with people who dye their hair in absurd colours and wear high-tops instead of the issued pair of shoes,"

I don't like her. I really don't. I want to strangle that neck of hers now.

"F-Y-I, I can dress anyhow I like, and good news!: I have friends already. Six of them," I stood up straighter to tower over her. She has the Napoleon Complex, you know. Very sensitive. "And now, if you could excuse me from your grandiloquence on how absurdly weird I am, I will be retreating to my chambers for now to do my homework, Your Royal Pain-in-the-ass,"

I snuck into my room as I heard Genevieve whine to my aunt. "AUNT ELLEEE!!! KAITLYN INSULTED MEEEEE!"

I did manage to finish everything before midnight, but I had to run to school in order to not be late again. Genevieve purposely forgot to wake me up, and I'm so going to get back at her tomorrow when it's my turn. I was busy looking through my bag for my schedule for the first period after homeroom as I ran, when I crashed into an unidentified object. Or rather, an unidentified person, who groaned as we collided onto the concrete pavement.

I found myself on top of none other than...

Jay? Nope, not today, thank God.

It was better, but still bad.

Wanna know?

You seriously want to?

Okay, so the person who is currently probably suffocating under my weight is Leon Alexander, or as I like to call him, Leo the Playboy.

"Kaitlyn?" Leo asked, a pained tone in his voice, "I'd love to stay like this all day, but it's not exactly a good time for me right now,"

I can't believe it. God hates me. Yesterday, it was Jay's guitar. Today, it's Leo himself. Who next? Jordan?

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" I apologized frantically as I jumped up from Leo.

Leo stood up, dusting his blazer jacket, and took my hand in his. "Well, it's no problem, my dear," he said flirtatiously, "After all, I'd say that the heavens have blessed me to have such an encounter with you," He kissed my hand.

Oh. My. Effin'. God.

My cheeks heated up as Leo's lips lingered on my hand as he looked up at me with a questioning look. I hastily drew back my hand and told myself to calm down.

It didn't work, though.

I screamed. Again.

I don't get it. I should be used to having Leo do this to me, since he's done countless of flirting tactics on me since yesterday morning till I had to go home. And not only me, too, he was on full-womanize mode after our set last night, but of course, every single female excluding me lapped up his attention readily.

I think I'm gonna start developing an obsessive compulsive disorder if Leo doesn't stop contaminating parts of me with his lips or hands. I took out my hand sanitizer and started rubbing my hands with it like a psycho.

"Oh? Sanitizing your fair hands?" Leo asked, a lazy grin stretched on his godly face. He loped easily alongside me as I scurried to school.

I made an impatient noise. "My hands are not fair. They're tan. I happened to get a nice one at the beach last summer,"

Goddammit. I just said the wrong thing.

"Fair as in beautiful, but the beach?" Leo queried, "I should've gone to a beach near Boston then. I might've had a chance to see more of your fair virgin skin,"

Ew ew ew. He is SO perverted.

"Don't you think of anything other than girls?" I complained as we passed through the iron-wrought gates of the school. I'm beginning to think that boys really do think with their you-know and not their brains.

Leo tilted his head as he seemed to contemplate the question. "Hmm...I do think of my future sometimes, and maybe those who are important to me,"

We stopped in front of the doors. "You mean the other guys?"

"Of course," Leo winked as he pushed the doors open, "And of course, 'specially you, my love,"

"Can it, Romeo," I growled as I pushed the doors open, scowling.

"Hey, kitty!"

Oh, not another one. Jay's words last night had repeated over and over again in my mind, as if someone had put it on loop. It was rather surprising, because it was very unexpected to hear something like that from him.

"What do you want, Jay?" I asked, annoyed as I started walking towards my homeroom class. I swear, I could feel all eyeballs rolling towards the both of us.

Jay caught up with me, smiling smugly as he dangerously twirled his PDA with his left hand with easy expertise. "Did ya check the Internet news today?"

"Jay, I saw it yesterday,"

Jay chuckled. "Whoa. You must be really good then, right, kitty?"

I shrugged carelessly. "I was halfway towards a panic attack. If it weren't for the stupid mask you gave me, I would've fainted a few bars into the song," I confessed grudgingly, "So thanks,"

"What's that?" Jay asked, pretending to be deaf to my gratitude. "Could you repeat that again? I'm afraid that amplifiers turned up to loud volumes have taken a toll on my eardrums,"

"I said, THANK YOU for HELPING ME," I said slowly and deliberately loudly, causing more people to stare at us. A number of pairs of eyes narrowed suspiciously; some widened in unadulterated glee. I could see some hunched over their phones, probably spinning tales of untruth extrapolated from my words to Jay.

Why do I feel like I'm on the set of Gossip Girl?

Jay tossed his head back in obvious pride. "Well, I guess I was pretty clever if you say so,"

Well he's a modest one. "Hey, kitty, follow me to the music department for a while, will you? I'd like to put our names in for the band to play at the Winter Dance,"

"Names as in our names or the band?"

"Band, of course. We don't want to expose you, now would we?" he winked at me.

Yeah. Sure. Like that cryptic wink is going to be any form of reassurance.

We went through two huge glass doors, and a light strain of classical music was playing over in the piped speakers. (Elevator music, anyone?) Two ladies were seated behind a desk, and an oddly familiar blond guy with his back turned onto us stood in front of the desk, and as we got closer, he seemed to be flirting with them, because both their faces had a vibrant shade of red.

I have a dark sense of foreboding here.

One of the secretaries happened to look up and see the both of us. She hastened to push her glasses up the bridge of her nose and adapted an expression of professionalism. "How may I help the both of you?" she asked coolly.

Instead of replying, Jay turned to the blond guy. "Hey, Leo! Where are the others?" he asked, lightly punching Leo's shoulder in a greeting.

Leo turned to us, a suavely sadistic smile on his face. Should I shudder or swoon? "I told them to go ahead, of course. The two of us can handle the submission-," he turned to the other secretary, "-right, Ms. Reynolds? By the way, have I mentioned how that dress perfectly comments the colour of your eyes?"

Ms. Reynolds blushed and giggled girlishly while she nodded. Ugh. Hormonal seventeen-year-olds are dangerous, I tell you. Especially ones with foreign accents and cocky smirks that can turn your knees to jelly and elevate your heart rate.

The other secretary, Ms. Smith, as her nameplate said, kept casting glances over at Leo while she talked to us. I don't mean to sound rude, but I wonder if she's a pedophile? Should I ask her? "Jayden Stanford, right? And what's your name?" she turned to me.

"Hunter," I grinned, "Kaitlyn Hunter," I felt rather classy and cool. I've always wanted to do that. You know, like, 'Bond. James Bond.'

Only I don't do something as cool as question terrorists, flipping cards in a casino to the tune of six million dollars, or have hot babes fluttering all around me, but details, details.

Besides, I have got to be thankful for the last one. Nobody except Bond girls make you feel inferior to their godly species. I simply refuse to accept that there are women out there who look good, have a brain, and get to handle all the coolest weapons in the world adeptly while still looking like a billion dollars. Where is the justice? I want to learn how to handle weapons too! They would sure come in useful in the presence of certain rock band members.
Hint Jay. Hint Leo.

"Next you'll be saying your codename's 007," Jay commented.

Hey. He actually got my reference to James Bond! No one's done that before. That's odd.

"I was playing around with the numbers 007.5. You know, like a newly improved version of 007,"

Ms. Smith cleared the throat. Oops. "The head of department will see you shortly after his meeting with-,"
"Lucifer," a cold voice finished.

A meeting with Disney's Cinderella's evil stepmother's cat? The fat and oddly green-furred one? The Disney's Cheshire Cat's evil, but no less diabolical, fraternal twin? Or maybe they were from the same litter. Who knows?

I watched Jay's face turn black in a matter of few seconds. That's strange. What's the connection between a cartoon cat and an amateur rock band leader?

"Stryker," he spat out at the person who had finished Ms. Smith's words.

I looked up from Jay to see this uber tall dude with a line of steel piercings in his left ear and short, spiky blond hair. A shiver ran up my spine as I noticed a tiny skull tattoo on his exposed collarbone. That's creepy.

The guy seemed to notice me, because he turned his eyes away from Jay and pierced directly into mine. His eyes were a steely gray, matched with the studs in his ear. "So. You're the new girl who's been hanging with the Lightning Babies, huh?"

The Lightning Babies? Once upon a time, I would've laughed along with the scary punk dude, but now I'm part of them, and they're not so bad once you get to know them over free sushi. They're a friendly bunch, if not psychotic.

"It's the Lightning Devils," I corrected, ignoring the wobbly feeling in my knees. You know Sephiroth from Final Fantasy Seven? I had a hard time playing against him because he was had this scary - albeit not real, but details don't matter - presence which stemmed from my television and dominated the entire room.

Goth-Boy gives off the same vibes as the one-winged angel. No shit.

"Oopsie," the goth said, grinning maliciously, "So, what's your name? You must know me of course, I'm the real up-and-coming artist around here. It's Dash Stryker,"

The real up-and-coming artist? Wait. I thought that was the Lightning Devils.

"Kaitlyn Hunter," I said boldly. I tell you, it ain't easy to stand up to a guy who towers eight inches above you while he looks so freaking scary. Wasn't playing to defeat Sephiroth supposed to be image training for potential real-life villains?

"I must ask you this, what is a girl like you doing hanging out with a bunch of sissies?" Dash asked, ignoring Jay's glowering presence, "Because the sorry excuse of a band isn't much of a band. It's more like America's Next Top Male Model, if you ask me,"

"I just happen to be friends with their new manager,"

He narrowed his cold eyes. "You don't happen to be the Lightning Kitty girl, do you?"

I was caught off-guard as he said it. I never expected him to know about the Lightning Kitty, since he hates the Devils so much, but I guess I never expected to be the most Googled of the now either.

"O-of course not, do I look like I can sing?" I waved a hand in front of me. I'm not really sure how the way I look will prove my point, but the wave of the vague hand thing always works, right? "If you're thinking about the way Stanford calls me kitty, I'll have you know that he probably calls everyone kitty,"

Dash pointed over at Jay, who had gone to the head's office. Traitor. "Does that guy look like he can lead a band?"

Dude has a point. Jay doesn't look like a leader of a band, much less a leader of a group of chipmunks. He looks more like a guy who has a harem of girls clinging onto his legs twenty-four-seven, and possibly, the hormonally-imbalanced people as well. Look what effect Leo had on Chace. But Leo's hotter than Jay is in the looks department, as well as the flirting department. But maybe some girls prefer the bad-boy American mojo rather than good ol' British suaveness.

I digress. The attractiveness of Jay and Leo, of all things. I'm so ashamed with myself.

"Never mind your answer," Dash said, sounding impatient as he leaned towards me, "I'm curious, though. What do you mean to that guy if he's with you nearly every time a fellow student sees the two of you? I'll have you know that Sandfields Academy is home to a rather big nest of gossips."

Dash did the exact same thing that Leo did to me when he first introduced himself to me, but this time, I felt more paralyzed-scared rather than paralyzed-surprised. He trailed his cold fingers down the side of my face, and I noticed that his nails were painted black, like the rest of his clothes. Everything he wore was black, through and through. He was dressed to the style of visual-punk-goth-emo-*insert colourful music genre here* theme.

He was so close to me, I could feel his breath on my face. I wasn't even remotely attracted to him, even though that he was just about as good-looking as Jay, but maybe it was his eldritchness and clothes that chilled the hotness factor down to level sub-zero. Despite that fact, my heart was still racing, faster than the normal speed.

I may have to start considering my Christianity and turn into an Atheist. God doesn't love me at all.

Chapter Five

2009-07-25T02:03:00.000-07:00

References: There are mentions of Vouge magazine, Paramore, Brick by Boring Brick and Taylor Swift.

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

My head pounded painfully as my body willed itself into consciousness. I didn't feel like waking up, though, as I felt the cool and clean-smelling sheets underneath me.

Wait. My room doesn't smell like this. It smells of fresh paint.

My reverie quickly went away as my eyes flew open in comprehension of my surroundings. My ears detected a conversation not too far away from where I was situated, and I could feel panic rising within me.

Great, my second panic attack of the day. I roughly estimate that my life has been shortened by about twenty years now.

My slowly rising panic abated, however, as I remembered with a sudden flash what happened before I ended up here. I had been with the Lightning Devils, and my new friend, Gabriel, and Jay had provoked me into singing.
I don't remember much after that.

I picked up the conversation, which was becoming clearer and sounded a lot closer by the second, followed by a light clicking of heels and a lot of feet-shuffling.

"So, you're saying Jayden and Leon pulled her off somewhere without letting her eat anything?" a lilting female voice asked.

"Yes, miss. They were desperate," a familiar male voice confirmed, "So is that why she fainted? I mean, because she didn't eat any lunch?"

Waitaminit. I fainted? Is that it?

I heard what seemed like a cross between a chuckle and a snicker, before another voice said, "I thought she fainted because of me. I must say, this is the first time that a girl has fainted when I'm not performing,"

That voice sounded familiar. It somewhat awakened my senses of irritation and tiredness.

"Don't get too full of yourself, Jay," a British-accented voice said, "You know it's your fault for stealing that muffin Gabriel gave her,"

Stealing that muffin? Now that I think about it, the reason as to why I blacked out is kind of embarrassing. A muffin, imagine that. Is this how far I've degraded myself?

I sat up from the bed, pain hitting me in multiple directions. I winced as I rubbed the bruised areas on my arms and head.

Note to self: Never have fainting fits ever again. They're inconvenient and painful.

"Hey!! Look who's woken from her cat-nap!" Jay exclaimed delightedly. Another lame pun?

Hardeharhar. He is so funny.

"I would kindly remind you to refer to me as Kaitlyn," I said as the Devils and Gabriel – Hah. Now that's funny. Devils? Gabriel the angel? Geddit? Shoot, now his lameness is rubbing off on me. - led inside, a pretty young woman with red hair following them.

The woman came up to me and prodded my head gently. "Where does it hurt?" she asked, "Do you need any aspirins for a headache?"

I managed a wan smile at the woman as I scanned the name tag on the pocket of her white coat. Evie Summers, School Nurse.

"If I had an aspirin for every headache I had today, I would've OD-ed by now,"

Ms. Summers laughed as she helped me stand up from the bed. My legs wobbled, and before I could fall again, Jay caught me with his arms.

I must say, we ended up in a very awkward position.

No, not that kind of position, you pervs.

Jay and I ended up in a position where you would think that two people who love each other very much are hugging. In other words, an embrace. I shudder to think of that.

God, what did I ever do wrong to make you do this to me? Was it the time when I once painted every single leaf of my mom's apple tree with blue paint? I just thought it would attract fairies. I was six, okay?

Or was it the time when I accidentally kicked a senior where it hurts the most? It was partly his fault! I was substitute cheering when he thought he'd come over to flirt with the senior girls even though he perfectly knew well that we were still doing our routine!

I'm not going to lie. Jay doesn't smell like sweat or dirt or whatever guys are supposed to smell like. He just smells like faint cologne. Well, that's a surprise. I pegged him for the type who hate men toiletries, despite his obvious vanity and big-headedness.

It was only very much later when I realized that I had been in Jay's arms for more than I should've been. I quickly withdrew, and Jay's face had the hugest smirk I have ever seen in my whole life. Then, under no intention, I let out a piercing scream.

"PERRRRRVEEEEEEERTT!!!"

Jay backtracked a little, as my voice went a few decibels higher than a normal pair of ears could withstand. And I thought he was a rock star in the making.

"Save that for later, would you?" Tyson complained.

"Kaitlyn," Ms. Summers said, a firm tone in her voice, "Please refrain from overexerting yourself again."

"Well, Ms. Summers," Leo added in conversationally, "If you would be so kind as to sign permission slips for us and excuse us for the rest of the school day to bring Kaitlyn out for a lunch and bring her home to rest?"

Ms. Summers seemed to be considering it. Please say no say no say no say no...

"Well, as long as you pay for it, Leon, and Jayden too. Both of you are at fault here," Ms. Summers went into her office to get slips for the seven of us.

I SAID SAY NO DAMNIT!

"Ms. Summers!! I don't wanna go home!! I can just eat after school!!" I called after the nurse hastily.

"Hey, just leave it, will you?" Jordan asked, blocking the way to her office, "You can skip for today's remaining lessons plus get a free meal,"

Well, he is right.

I glared at Jay, hate emitting out of me in great auras. Jay caught my look. "What? You seemed pretty comfortable," he pointed out, "And a lot of girls would've killed to be in your shoes,"

"Well, as I said before, I am not one of those girls," I reminded him, my patience fraying, "And I absolutely did not enjoy it. I would rather go hug a statue of Barney,"

Jay wore an injured look. "Kitty, how could you say that to a person who-,"

"Made me late for school? Put me in the teacher's black list? Stalked and eavesdropped on me? Stole my lunch then dragged me off somewhere?" I cut him off, "Now that I think about it, you owe me more than a free meal and no lessons for the day, buddy, but I'll take it,"

Gabriel chuckled as he took my arm. "C'mon, Kaitlyn. We'll go get our bags," he urged.

"Oh no you don't," Jay took my other arm.

I am feeling a serious sense of déjà vu here.

I shook off their hands. "I am not a toy to be tug-of-war-ed. I'll go alone,"

Jay sulked as he gave Gabriel a dirty look. "Why are you here anyway? You're not even a part of the band,"
Gabriel smiled enigmatically, his eyes sweeping briefly over to Lance, who was, as usual, reading a book. That's odd. The brief look, I mean, not the reading.

"Kaitlyn's my friend, and I do have to right to follow her," he looked over at me, "If you're fine with it," he added.
Fine? It's more than fine. Anything to keep me away from Jayden Stanford.

"No, it's fine. Just let me go get my own bag,"

I got the permission slip from Ms. Summers, then proceeded to get my backpack from my locker. It turns out that the Devils all have their lockers next to each others. I suspect that either Leo seduced the female admins to do it, or Jay must've snuck into the office and rigged the arrangements.

"So, where are we going?" I asked conversationally as we walked towards the car park.

Leo fished inside his pockets and retrieved a set of keys. "How does sushi sound?" he asked, as he pointed towards a row of cars and pressed the button thingy that people use to unlock and lock their cars from a distance.
I'm not really educated in the field of cars, if you must know.

"Um… sushi's fine," I mumbled, staring at all the cars in the lot, every single vehicle looked brand-new and high-class. "Wow."

"Nice," Gabriel commented with admiration as Leo stopped to open the passenger door of the jet-black van.
"Thank you, Gabriel," Leo looked at me, "Ladies first,"

I shook my head defiantly. "Only now you show me some basic chivalry," I said dryly, "But if I'm sitting anywhere with you guys, I'm sitting right next to either Gabriel or Lance,"

Jay stifled his laughter as he invited himself into the passenger seat that Leo had offered me while Leo himself looked at me injuredly. The other members of the Lightning Devils piled inside the spacious vehicle after I went inside, and I started squealing in excitement, as I assessed the interior.

"Are you English royalty or something?" I asked, looking at the plush seats. My eyes nearly bugged out at the sight of a mini flat-screen that Jordan had pulled out from the roof's interior, "Because only people who are ridiculously rich can afford a van like this. I thought only celebrities had these kind of cars!"

"Close enough," Leo said, grinning at he started up the engine, "Back in the UK, my family is of noble blood. My name's Sir Leon Griffin Alexander the Third. Our ancestors did have quite a fortune,"

Well, isn't he the modest one? "Really? 'Cause I thought-,"

"I'm kidding," Leo chuckled as the corner of his eyes crinkled in mirth, "I can't believe you actually believed that for a second,"

I glared at him; it's a pity looks can't kill. "You suck," I sniffed, tossing my head pompously away from him.

Jay turned back to look at us. "Well, my family's not nobility, but my great-grandparents have...kitty? Are you listening?"

I ignored Jay's words as I stared above me. "Is that a sun protector?" I asked in fascinated wonder.

"Yes, Kaitlyn," Leo nodded as he backed the van out of the lot.

"Does that mean I can stick my head out of the roof?" I asked hopefully.

"Do you want to?"

"Hell yeah!"

-

Very soon, Leo pulled into a parking lot in front of this huge Asian-looking building. I didn't notice that the time had passed by so quickly, because I had been enjoying the view of the town. Sure, I did see parts of it from the airport to Aunt Elle's place, but seeing it from inside the car isn't as exciting as the view from the sunroof, right?

Jay had been trying to talk to me about the gig later, but I had been too engrossed with the pretty houses that looked like they came out from a picture book to listen to him.

I think I heard a few words here and there.

We crossed the miniature bridge that was erected over a small moat/pond that was built around the huge restaurant. I looked over the rails to watch the koi fishes in the pond with Gabriel as Leo talked with the maitre d' stationed at the podium at the entrance who was dressed in a traditional kimono.

"Irrashai mase, Mr. Alexander. How may I help you?" I heard the maitre d' greet Leo in a perfectly accented Japanese voice. I curiously looked over to see that instead of an Asian guy, it was a dark-haired guy who looked more European than Japanese.

Dang. The management here must train their staff pretty damn well. The most extravagant sushi restaurant in where I previously lived didn't even have staff that could speak proper Japanese greetings with proper accents.

"Afternoon, Sebastian. I'd like to have a table for seven people. We're here for a light lunch," Leo replied smoothly. He must be a regular patron here or something. Rich-ass.

"So, kitty," Jay said as we settled at a table with chairs instead of the low tables I had seen in the other rooms, "While we're having our meal, I'd like you to tell us your life story,"

"My life story in exchange for a free meal?" I asked suspiciously, "But the reason why you brought me here is because you nearly killed me."

"I'm intrigued by you. A seventeen-year-old girl with a rebellious image suddenly popping up late into the school year and has a voice. Bound to make a good story," he replied, "And besides, you're not just gonna die from that. Stop being paranoid, will you?"

"You have such a boring life," I commented cheerfully, "But fine, it's not like I have much to say anyway,"

Over the raw fish, sushi rolls and tempura, I poured my heart out to the guys as I told them how I used to live a upper-middle class fairy tale life before my parents decided to go to the 1000 Places To Visit Before You Die, and how I was now living with my aunt and sister. Okay, fine, I guess I did add a bit on my ex-friends.

"Wow," Tyson commented, "You must've had a lot of things to deal with, huh?"

"Oooh! Tempura ice-cream!" I exclaimed, as the waitress - also dressed in a kimono - set a bowl in front of me. "What? It's pretty normal. At least now I know that my friends back home weren't serious about our friendship."

"If my parents were going traveling, they'd bring my brothers and I along," Jordan put in.

I knew that Jordan had five brothers who were as handsome as he was. Two of them were twins, even. They must be as well-off as Leo's family. Don't ask me how I know. I just have my sources.

"Well, not everyone's born into a rich family," I said brightly as I stuck the spoon inside my mouth. Ah...ice cream. Well, that was two people who are stinking rich in the band now.

"And you always seem happy too," Tyson added, casting a skeptical glance at the plates in front of me, "You're the first girl I have ever met to not consider food as her enemy,"

I shrugged. "One: Life's short; and Two: I'm not always this happy,"

"I can attest to that," Jay said unnecessarily.

"By the way, isn't it nearly five?" I asked, glancing at the clock on the wall.

The others looked at the clock, but none of them looked panicked. I wonder why?

"Er...why aren't you rushing to pay the bill and running to the van to get to the park?" I asked.

"The thing actually starts at seven, but we thought we'd bring you over to a stylist that works for one of our dad's company," Tyson said, "Because you..."

Three people. Three filthy rich people. "...look incredibly out of place, especially when standing next to all of you?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Jordan grinned at me.

What?? Not everyone can have branded wardrobes, okay? The only existing brand I have in my room is probably the MacBook and iPod Nano that some rich ass CEO included as a party favor in a bag that my parents got at some party a few years ago and my Converse stuff. And I tell you, I had a very trying time acquiring some of the Converse stuff from thrift stores that I used to raid with my sister.

Come to think of it, that's about the only time where Genevieve and I really bonded and had each other's backs. The other times we were just about ready to kill each other.

Good times, good times. Moving on.

"What do you say, kitty?" Jay prompted.

"I have no choice," I sighed, standing up from the table, "You'll have to thank Gabriel later. It's only because of him I'm here,"

The boys carted me back to the van, which I learned was also the band's main mode of transportation due to its size, and drove uptown, where all the rich and famous of Sandfields lived. I couldn't help ogling at every single mansion we drove by, as it seemed like every building we passed, the houses just kept increasing in size.
Leo stoped the van in front of a stately residence, which had this extremely well-kept garden and the courtyard had the classic water-fountain-at-the-courtyard-with-a-roundabout thing going on. What century are we in again?

"Welcome to my humble abode," Tyson said with a grin as he slid the door of the van open.

Humble my ass. My idea of humble is the tiny apartment that my college-freshman cousin rents in California.

Inside Tyson's mansion, we were greeted by a very flamboyant man who looked like he was in his early twenties. He introduced himself as just Chace. No last names or whatever, because according to him, having a first name and surname was too 'stuffy' and 'businesslike'.

Apparently, he's a celeb stylist that the women of the Gyles family had poached at a fashion show in NYC. He had quite the looks, but let's just say he wasn't really my type.

"Tyson, mon chéri!" Chace cooed as he flounced towards us and kissed both of Tyson's cheeks, "I wasn't expecting you for another half-hour!"

Yeah. He's a homosexual.

"Plans changed, Chace," Jay said as he got his turn of the cheek-kissing.

Ew. Who would want to kiss...him?

Chace stopped to look at me. "Who is this...this..." he seemed to fail in finding words to describe me. Well, I've always thought that I was pretty hard to describe. "...this unfashionable, unmade-up creature who looks out of place among you!?"

I think I prefer to be indescribable.

"Here, let me introduce you. This is my kitty, Kaitlyn Hunter, and that noob-looking guy over there is Gabriel Lyndon," Jay offered helpfully.

"Lyndon?" Chace repeated as he cast a curious glance over Gabriel, who was squirming uneasily now, "Are you by any chance related to Chaz Lyndon?"

"Yeah," Gabriel mumbled, "He's my brother,"

Well, that's a surprise. I never knew Gabriel had a brother. He struck me as the only-child type.

"Fabuleux!" Chace exclaimed. Well, he's one happy person. "I absolutely love what he did with the models at the Winter Fashion Gala last year!"

"Er...yeah. It was pretty good, I guess." Gabriel agreed uncomfortably.

That's strange. Gabriel seems like he wants to avoid the subject of his brother. I wonder why?

"Chace, sorry to interrupt your chat, but I would like to ask of you to maybe work your magic on this lady?" Leo asked with a pleasant smile.

"All right, give me an hour and a half max, I'll have this girl looking from drab to glamoreux in no time,"

Gee, that was nice of him to say so. Until today, I thought I looked reasonably okay.

"Some of my team are in the other room, readying your clothes for you." Chace informed as he whisked me away from the band and Gabriel.

Chace dragged me to a huge wooden oak door and pushed it open, and I saw a highly-equipped salon station with a couple of women bustling about with their arms loaded with clothes.

"Girls!" Chace announced, "We have one and half hours to convert this fashion disaster into something presentable!"

Did I mention how bad does an insult bite?

I was literally chained to the beauty chair while a bunch of people plus Chace attacked my hair and face. I must've squealed in pain for about a million times as a brush poked me or when a pair of tweezers clamped onto my eyebrow. I was obstructed from the view of the mirror, so I couldn't see what they were doing to me. Good grief, these stylists can definitely beat a heavyweight champion in a martial arts duel, no problem.

I silently sent prayers to the Heaven above and silently cursed the guys minus Gabriel, who took no part in what was happening to me right now.

Exactly one hour later, Chace clapped his hands. "Okay! We're done with phase one and two! Station and ready yourselves for the final phase!"

The assistants automatically started towards a black door nearby, which I assumed had to be something to with the final phase. Chace sure knows how to make a person feel like a mutated experiment, huh?

Chace had a very satisfied look on his face as he surveyed his handiwork. "I'm a genius, if I say so myself," he commented delightedly. Well, he sure has no problems conveying his thoughts to people.

"Prepared to be ah-mazed," he announced as he stepped aside to let me have a proper look at the mirror.

I resent Chace for being rude about me earlier, but right now, the only thing I'm feeling for the man is: R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

I found myself staring at an extremely gorgeous girl, with the same hair color as mine, but instead of the previous cut it had before, it was now artfully layered. How he managed to do that in one hour, I would never know. The soft, glittering eyeshadow made her eyes look more hazel than just plain brown, and her lips were full and pouty, thanks to the wonders of lip liner and lip gloss. I shall never degrade make-up in future.

"I-is that me?" I gasped in disbelief. Damn. I looked, well, awesome.

"I didn't get the front cover feature on Vouge for nothing you know," Chace said placidly. "Well, time's a-wasting, let's get you dressed,"

So that was the final phase. Figures.

Chace pulled me through the black door and pushed me into a changing stall, throwing a pile of clothes at me. "Try these on,"

I fumbled with every article of clothing Chace gave me, but I somehow managed to work out which was which.
I think.

I tentatively stepped out, and Chace started clapping with hands and jumping up and down delightedly. "Wonderful! Magnifique! My best work yet!" he claimed.

To my utter disbelief, he threw the clothes that Ms. Summers gave to me to change into, into a wastepaper basket.

Who in their right mind tosses away perfectly good clothes into wastepaper baskets!? And when it's not even theirs to boot!?

"Hey!! Those were clothes I borrowed from the school!" I cried as I tried to retrieve them.

Chace held up a hand that held my Converse high-tops. "No worries, I'll give them a replacement set. I shall be sending my assistant over to your aunt's house. I have provided you with an updated wardrobe and shoes. Keep these sneakers, since I can see the future you wearing them despite my insistence," he ordered, "Yes, you shall now be able to go out looking presentable, instead of traipsing around in those nameless rags,"

Well, isn't he thoughtful?

The black door opened, and the Lightning Devils came in, with Gabriel who had apparently been caught and beautified - in male terms, of course - as well. Not that there was much to improve about Gabriel.

I watched as the members of the Lightning Devils and Gabriel took me in. Jordan had a sharp intake of breath. Leo and Tyson both just smiled at me. Lance took one look at me and his eyes widened before looking away.

Okay, so maybe I would've never actually worn what I was currently wearing, since I did have a limited allowance. Chace had given me a crimson button-up blouse that had long sleeves, which I had rolled up to arm-length and a black sleeveless vest to pull over it. My lower-body was clad in a black miniskirt with red leggings beneath and black Ugg boots which I thought were out-dated.

Now I know who put Ugg boots back in style.

"Well, you look prettier," Gabriel was the first one to speak. "You were pretty already, though,"

Awww. Gabriel's such a great friend. I love him!!

Not to be outdone, Leo gave me a flirty look. "I always knew you had the potential to shine. Beauty does lurk beneath the skin after all," he claimed heroically, "A spunky rebel or a timid little schoolgirl,"

Timid little schoolgirl? Leo actually...?

You know what? Let's just not go there.

Lance looked up at me again. "You're a very pretty girl, Kaitlyn," he said softly, "Even without the hair, make-up and clothes," Then he blushed. I didn't know rockers blushed, especially quiet, brooding ones with a small celtic cross tattooed onto his right bicep, which I just noticed when Lance came in, his shirt short-sleeved.

It was actually pretty cute; the blushing I mean.

Tyson patted Chace's back in approval. "You did good, Chace," he said appreciatively, "My sisters are gonna be sooo jealous of her,"

It was only after Chace had looked pointedly at Jay that I realized he was the only one who hadn't said anything at all. I waited for an insult or an ill-mannered sexually harassing comment from Jay, but he just kept quiet.

"Jay! I can't believe you call yourself the God among men when can't you at least compliment a beautiful lady when you see one!" Chace cried in exasperation.

My, my, Chace. Wasn't I just an unfashionable and unmade-up creature not too long ago?

Jay avoided my gaze as he turned towards the door. "Well, it's getting late, we have to go now," he said, "If we want to beat the traffic,"

Chace shook his head, obviously not pleased with Jay. He patted my cheek and gave me a pep talk. "I heard from Tyson that they had problems getting you into their band,"

Now I know boys gossip like old women.

"Do your best, all right? The boys worked hard for their reputation," Chace finished. That was rather uncharacteristic and charitable of him, if I say so myself.

I nodded before going after the boys.

-

It wasn't long before I realized that they hadn't told me what I would be singing.

"What am I supposed to sing?" I asked them as I sat between Lance and Gabriel -whom, according to Leo, was taking his position as a manager since I liked him so much, so why not?- as I had said earlier this afternoon.

"Are you familiar with Paramore?" Jordan asked, putting his bass guitar on the empty seat beside him.

"Yeah, pretty well actually," I confirmed, pleasantly surprised that they had mentioned one of my favorite bands. "I'm a fan."

"Which song's your favourite?" Tyson asked.

"Brick by Boring Brick?"

I saw Leo grin from the rearview mirror. "Excellent," he drawled in his sexy accent.

Leo pulled into a parking lot, and I realized that some of the people milling outside had guitar and bass cases in their hands. My eyes flitted over to a poster with the headlines'Amateur Rock Bands Contest!', then dread filled up in me.

"We-we're competing?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Of course, it's not exactly a one-band gig. This is good publicity for our band," Leo explained, before looking over at Gabriel and adding, "I suppose that should be your job now, eh?"

Gabriel nodded, a slightly confused expression on his handsome face. I knew it. Leo just dropped the job on him.
We climbed out of the van, Jay and Jordan holding their guitar and bass respectively, and Leo sent Gabriel off to go get our number.

I am toast.

The Lightning Devils were up soon, so I just watched the other bands perform. And I have to say, they were all just so damn good.

As our turn drew closer, my heart rate started accelerating and I started seeing white spots, a sure sign of a panic attack.

I think Jay must have noticed, because he turned to me, and finally spoke to me. "Hey, kitty, you okay?"
I looked up at him; my legs feeling like Jell-O.

"Can I skip this one?" I asked him, " 'Cause I don't feel so good,"

"Up next: The Legendary Lightning Devils!!" the MC screamed into the microphone.

Jay looked up to the others who were already getting on-stage, then looked back at me. He held out a black masquerade mask, which, to my irritation, was shaped like the upper-half of a cat's head. A lightning bolt was crudely drawn on the left side of the mask with neon-yellow marker.

"You're the Lightning Kitty for now, kitty," he said with the wink I knew so well, "By the way, did I mention how fabulously attractive you look?"

I gaped at him as he bounded on-stage with his guitar and plugged it in the amplifiers and gave a teasing pluck on the instrument. The crowd went wild, screaming for him and his band-mates.

"Today, we have a new addition!" Jay shouted into his microphone, "Please welcome the Lightning Kitty!"
I pulled the mask over my eyes and said a quick prayer before joining the guys.

I gripped the microphone as I looked over at Jay, who was standing beside me. He nodded encouragingly.

I took a deep breath and...

Chapter Four

2009-07-23T21:00:00.000-07:00

References: Hurricane Streets by Hey Monday is used here. Don't sue!

-----------

Against my will, I am currently being dragged to one of the school's music rooms by Leo and Jay, with the others trailing behind us. I wonder how many kinds of rooms does this school have, exactly? It's like so freakin' huge.

"Uh, hello? I can walk you know," I said matter-of-factly to the two guitarists, "And I'm gonna press charges against you guys for molestation, man-handling, kidnapping and depriving me of lunch,"

I started struggling, trying to pull myself free from the grasps of Jay and Leo. Why is it that I'm always so weak? Back in Boston, I was always asked to be at the top of the pyramid when one of their flyers were absent.

Goodness, I'm saying a lot of things that start with 'Back in Boston'. Damn it.

The two of them just held on harder onto my arms, resulting in me accidentally (but to my satisfaction) punching Jay's jaw and narrowly missing Leo's one.   Jay let out a train of swear words that could've made a truck driver blush, as he freed one of his hands to rub the sore area where I had hit.

Tsk, tsk. I wonder what his mom would've said when she heard him?

"My God, kitty. We're not doing anything illegal to you," Jay grumbled, "It's the twenty-first century, for goodness' sake. It's perfectly legal to hold the arm of a girl,"

"And what, drag her somewhere against her will!?" I retorted, "I haven't even eaten anything since morning!"

"You can eat later. Who asked you to be an anorexic bimbo and not eat breakfast?"

I seriously feel like saying some of those profanities that Jay had spouted earlier. Oh, and I also feel like kicking him where the sun don't shine. That's a pretty tempting idea right now, seeing my current situation.

"I'm not anorexic, all right!? It's just that you don't have the luck to feel like a pregnant woman, rushing around throwing up every morning just because you eat a bit of breakfast like I do!" I snapped, "And besides, why can't I not perform today? It's not like they'll miss me or anything, since they don't even know I exist,"

"Which is exactly why you should start performing ASAP," Jordan said, opening a door that we stopped in front of.

Jay and Leo, both still holding onto either of my arms, dragged me inside the music room, followed by the other members of the Lightning Devils and Gabriel. I was dragged and placed in front of a microphone stand.

"Here's the other microphone. Try it out," Jay ordered. Wow. They work faster than I do. I wonder who set up the microphone before we got here?

"There's such a thing as the word 'please', you know," I muttered, "Or are you just used to having millions of women and girls falling and bowing at your feet?"

"The latter, kitty," Jay grinned, "Now, sing some random song you know,"

That's why I hate hot guys. They think they're all that and stuff, and Jay was a very good example of that.   I folded my arms, a look of stubbornness etched into my face. What can I say? I'm a feminist at heart, even though I'm half-starved.

Lance looked at me, a blank look on his face, which actually suited his looks. He turned to Jay, and opened his mouth. "Jay, just say 'please' will you? We can't lose this one. We've been through this too many times," he said quietly, "And competition's getting tougher. Kaitlyn will be a great trump card,"

A moment of silence ensued as I processed the fact that the normally quiet Lance had spoken more than five words. Then I processed what he had said.  What? I'm a growing, half-starved teenager. I need my nourishment, but thanks to some people (hint at Jay), I have to wait 'till four o'clock when I get back to Aunt Elle's house to actually eat something edible.

"Fine," Jay said childishly, "Please, kitty. Sing a song for us to hear your lovely voice,"

I ignored Jay, and turned to Lance with a questioning look. "What do you mean by you have been through this too many times?"

"It's pretty easy to guess," Lance replied in the same quiet tone.

Then, realization suddenly dawned upon me. It felt pretty epic, by the way, the realization dawning upon me.

"Do you mean I'm not the first female singer you've tried recruiting into the band?" I asked, a spark of interest growing in me. "What happened to my predecessors?"

An uncomfortable and pregnant silence hit the room, as some of the band members, Jordan and Tyson in particular, fidgeted nervously. Only Lance was unaffected by my question, seeing as he was the one who led me to asking it, and Gabriel, who was obviously out-dated in the band's history. The lack of noise was deafening.

Oooh. This is interesting.

"Soooo...care to tell me?" I urged, a cheshire-cat grin of my own spread across my face.

Jay cleared his throat in a business-like manner. "It's nothing important, so..."

"The last one quit because of Leo," Lance interrupted, "And the one before that quit because of Jay."
I knew it. It had to be them.

Jay and Leo shot the keyboardist a dirty look.  "Well, I couldn't help it. She practically expected me to marry her," Leo said defensively, "And I'm only seventeen, for God's sake! All I promised her were good times and memories. She misinterpreted me for a serious relationship,"

"What about him?" I asked, pointing at Jay like he was an animal. But animals are better than him, I tell you, waaaaay better.

"I'm just not interested in a relationship now," Jay said airily, picking up an electric guitar and studying the surface, " 'sides, I have to look after you now, kitty," He winked at me.   Jerk.

"How many have you been through, exactly?" I asked, ignoring the gnawing irritation that had festered ever since I met Jay this morning.

"Well...a couple of them," Tyson said, the tone of his voice reluctant. He must be uncomfortable with the fact that his friends are a bunch of playboy jerks.

"Eight," Lance dead-panned. All of us, excluding Leo and Jay, turned to look at said people accusingly.
"We can't help it if they can't cope with it and be professional about it," Jay said loftily, "I mean, it is partly their fault for misreading us,"

That tweaked a nerve. My dad has always said that I liked to be the best of the best, because it was a faulty genetic trait that I inherited from him. I take up challenges like a dog picks up a bone.  What? I thought it was a pretty good metaphor, actually.

Anyways, I did that weird bangs over eyes thing and in a deadly tone, I said, "Are you trying to say that I'm not cut out for this thing?"

"Oh, no, it's just tha-," Leo began, but Jay cut in like the ill-mannered person he is.

"You could be," Jay suggested slyly, "I mean, after all, you didn't want to join us in the first place. You might not be even cut out for it at all,"

I fully put the blame on my daddy for whatever happened next. Sorry dad, if you're sneezing right now in Paris or Rome, wherever the hell you are with mom.

"Never fear," I said icily, "Because I don't intend on running away after whatever you've done wrong to me, because I will get back at you, and I especially do NOT intend on falling in love with any of you,"

The Devils and Gabriel stared at me in shock after my announcement. Both Leo and Jay simply smiled at me cryptically.

I distrust those smiles.

"Amaze us, if you will," Leo said gallantly, flourishing an arm towards the microphone.

"Fine," I snarled, stepping up nearer to the stand.  I can sing, no problem. It's just them anyway, and it's not like I'm performing on stage in front of a crowd. Just pretend that none of them are here. It's pretty easy, in Leo's and Jay's cases.   I mentally picked out one of my favourite songs that I knew like the back of my hand. It goes like this:

The storm is rushing on me
Here's the flood flash
I feel so locked and loaded
Let me out, let me out

Wake up in a wasteland
Where the trees are crashing fast
Make or break
The road explodes
Get out, get out of this town

Live faster, live stronger
Let us speed up
Or get blown over

Time's wasting
How much longer
Before I get myself free
Of these hurricane streets?

I reluctantly looked over at the Devils, wondering what they thought of my singing after I finished, or rather, my song choice. They don't look like people who would take too kindly to Hey Monday, but as the saying goes, looks can be deceiving. Leo's a prime example of that, thank you very much.

Jay and Leo were smiling; contentedness present in both their faces, the kind a person would get after eating a hugely satisfying meal. Jordan was just nodding sagely in approval, and Tyson and Gabriel both looked taken aback. Lance, as expected, remained cool.

Awesome. I wasn't expecting such reactions, Lance's excluded.

I stepped back from the mike and turned towards them, and before anything else happened, I saw a blinding white flash, rendering me unconscious, next thing I knew.

At least I didn't fall on top of the equipment, though, because those tangles of wires don't look very accommodating.

Chapter Three

2009-07-22T05:51:00.000-07:00

You know in the movies where everything suddenly goes all slow-mo and stuff?

That's exactly what I did, when I heard Jay's voice. My jaw lost its hinges and dropped open like that old, defective mailbox Aunt Elle was planning to replace yesterday, and I let go of my paintbrush, watching it as it slowly fell onto the ground; it was as if time had slowed down or something.

I turned around as I bent down to pick up the fallen paintbrush, trying to muster up as much confidence and dignity as possible. "What are you doing here!?"

Jay responded with the fast-becoming-familiar playboy grin of his and held up a flower pot with a single, white daisy planted in. "The weather's pretty good and the flowers are as fresh as this daisy," he said, "Guess now I know your dirty little secret!"

He started chuckling at his poor attempt to make a pun. Apparently, Mr. Band Leader thought he was a born comedian. Like, dream on dude.

"On to a more serious note," I heard Leo say as he came up behind Jay, "Jay's hunch was right. You can sing,"

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Yeah right, sing like a walrus,"

I looked over expectantly at Jay, waiting for some kind of agreement from him. Instead, all he said was, "Join us, kitty."

It was as if I had gone crazy. I started laughing this delusional, maniacal, mad-woman laugh, making Jay and Leo watch me with concern. I could imagine what they were thinking right now.

'Is this girl in her right state of mind? Has she gone round the bend?'

"You have got. To be. Joking." I said curtly, bending down to pick up my paintbrush. I wonder why I even talk to them. Sure, I mean, they're hot, good-looking and all, but they are so full of crap.

Join them? Nuh-uh. No way am I ever going to perform singing. I mean, you could DIE when you sing you know. Did you know, a band was performing outdoors, and the singer had to go to the hospital later because he got struck by lightning? Apparently, his microphone was like a lightning conductor and he was holding onto it, so it all adds up to: FATALITY.

I know. I ripped off from NigaHiga. Who cares?

And it's true I made up that fact. But I mean, it's possible! Just add in some simple sciences about lightning and steel, it's a perfectly good hypothesis that just hasn't been proven yet.

"We're not joking," Jay said dryly, folding his arms across his chest. Didn't anyone ever tell him that only girls do that now? "I've always been pretty spot-on with my gut instinct. I can tell when someone has a good musical talent. You, my kitty, have a voice,"

"I don't lie to pretty damsels like you," Leo said with an impish wink. Ugh. There for a moment, I thought he was being very serious and all grown-up.

"Sure you don't," I said sarcastically, "I guess that's why Buffy, Muffy and Betsy were bawling their eyes out in the girls' washroom when I went in there,"

Leo held up an informing finger. "For your information, dear, it's Brenda, Miranda and Britney," he said, "And they were just a bit too much for me. I prefer simple, cute, wholesome girls like you."

Damn, that guy's got no pride. "I'm sure as hell that the fact that I can't sing is true," I lashed out at them, "And do you know the meaning to the phrase 'respect one's privacy'!? Or do you need someone to translate that into the language of flirts!?"

My breathing went all ragged because of the exertion of forceful, negative energy I used on Jay and Leo. Yoga doesn't work for some people, apparently. All those yoga classes I was forced to take with my ex-best friend were just a waste of time and money.

I want my money back.

I dropped the paintbrush I was holding onto the table next to the palette and stormed out, grabbing my backpack as I went.

"Daaaamn," I heard someone else say, "Jay, Leo, you guys picked one tough chick to mess with,"

Chick!? Excuse me, but do you see any yellow fluffy feathers on me!?

"Oh shut up, Jordan," Jay growled, "But mark my words, we're gonna get her in the band somehow,"

Yeah right. Like that'll ever happen. This is me they're talking about. The one who stood up to the entire senior football and basketball team in her sophomore year because they were bullying a freshman kid for being gay. I can definitely stand up against a pair of airheads.

I managed to avoid direct contact with Jay and Leo for the rest of the morning. Both of them mostly had classes with me, but I ignored them and pretended to be immersed into my class work, occasionally tapping my head with a pencil then going, "Aha!!" which they would look over at me, with hopes of talking to me, but by then, I'd be back into my semi-dreamworld.

Oh, I'm good.

By lunch, I successfully managed to maneuver my way out of the classroom and hall and into the cafeteria without any of the twin playboys catching up with me. I sat at an empty table, sighing as I set my bag down. It was as if my own body was mocking me, but my stomach growled to accentuate the fact that I was tired, friendless and pissed off. My day is soooo ruined.

"Hungry?"

A fair-skinned, dark-haired guy set down his tray in front of me, taking up a seat. His appearance literally took my breath away. His locks were luxuriously wavy; my mom would've been drooling over it, and his skin was so damn flawless that it could've even put the most beautiful supermodels to shame.

His eyes were a strange mix of hazel and blue, but it was still pretty. I do tend to concentrate most on the eyes when I do a portrait of someone, because lifeless eyes mean a pointless portrait.

"I thought gentlemen were supposed to pretend they don't hear a lady's stomach growl," I muttered, scowling up at him.

The guy let out a deep-throated chuckle and pushed a chocolate muffin my way. "Well, I was told that I wasn't that much of a gentleman," he said, amusement twinkling in his eyes, "My name's Gabriel Lyndon."

"Gabriel…like the angel?"

"I've been told," He chuckled, "What's your name?"

"Kitty Girl," I answered sarcastically as Jay flashed into my mind.

"Finally, you acknowledge the name I gave you,"

My blood ran cold and I saw Jay sliding onto the bench next to Gabriel. "What the hell are you doing?" I hissed at him, "Go play with your harem or something!"

Jay looked offended. "Who says I have a harem? I may be the hottest guy around, being able to tame multiple women older than I to do my bidding, but I certainly, most absolutely, do not have a harem!"

Looks like Jayden's picked up a few lines from Leo.

"It's Kaitlyn Hunter, by the way," I added to Gabriel before turning to Jay, "Where's your other half anyway?"

"Right here, darling," the suave voice greeted my ears. I closed my eyes and counted to ten before opening them again.

Oh lookie! It's the Hotties United! I wonder if anyone has ever told them to get matching uniforms?

All five of the Lightning Devils sat at Gabriel's and my table, ultimately disrupting my chance to get to know him better. Leo, as I predicted, chose to sit right next to me, while the blond-highlighted-brunette from earlier sat on my left. "Jordan Grayson, at your service," he spoke directly into my ear, "I heard you. You really should join us,"

I narrowed my eyes and glowered at Jay. Jay noticed my look, and said, "Jordan's the bassist,"

"Like I even care!" I cried, "Then what are you? The lead asshole!?"

Jay bit into a chicken sandwich lazily. "It's lead guitarist and vocalist. I'm pretty sure I told you that I play lead guitar? But of course, I'd hand half that position of a vocalist over to you if you agree to come into our band,"

"Fat chance, Stanford,"

"It's Jayden, kitty."

"Like I give a damn,"

I snuck a glance at Gabriel, trying to give him a look of apology, but he was staring at the black-haired guy. Said black-haired guy lifted up a can of whatever fancy-schmancy drink they drink to his lips and turned to face me.

"Lancelot Montague, keyboardist," he said shortly before opening a well-worn copy of War and Peace.

O-kay. The keyboardist is a bookworm. So that means that not all of the Devils are male-bimbos. I studied Lancelot closer, to see that he had navy highlights in his black hair. That's pretty cool, considering the fact that he's a guy. He must have a rare sense of style or something.

The copper-haired guy waved a hand in front of my face. "It's Tyson Gyles, if you're wondering," he said pleasantly. This hot guy's got manners. I might get to like him after all. "I play the drums,"

Tyson gestured over to Lancelot. "We just call him Lance. He's always reading, so don't mind him,"

I looked at Leo. What does he play, exactly? Definitely not the violin to attract hordes of female fans. They're rock band, for goodness' sake. If it was the electric violin…

As if he had read my mind, Leo said, "I'm the rhythm guitarist, and I'm also usually saddled with the administrative area of the band,"

"You? A debonair casanova a manager?" I echoed, "That is such a joke,"

"You seem to think that everything we do is a joke, kitty," Jay said, leaning forward and swiping the muffin Gabriel had given me. Stupid little thief.

"That was mine," I said firmly, staring at Jay stonily.

"Oh, too bad," Jay bit into the chocolate pastry, "But I could always get you another one if you agree to join us,"

I sighed noisily, and rubbed my temples. Pretty soon, I am gonna sprout white hair. "I can't sing. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

Jay looked right into my eyes, his sea-foam orbs piercing into my drab, brown ones. "For as many times until you give in and join," he said confidently, flashing me a winning smile, "The art of pestering another is timeless, you know,"

"Wow. To think being annoying is actually an art to master," I commented, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "Because I thought it came to you naturally,"

Jay put a hand over his chest. I think it's his favourite pose or something, because I've seen him do that for a number of times this morning. "I am naturally talented at most things, but pestering is a very delicate art. It took me years to master,"

"Yeah, when you started talking, your training started,"

"How'd you guess?" Jay asked me delightedly.

"Because I'm psychic," I replied, rolling my eyes.

"You want Kaitlyn to be in your band?" Gabriel asked unexpectedly out of nowhere.

Leo turned to him, surprised. "Why, of course. That's the sole reason why we sat here today. This cutie here-," he gestured over to me, "-absolutely refuses to join. We're trying to convince her to join us. We need her,"

Gabriel furrowed his eyebrows. "Only you and Jayden?"

Leo shook his head, tossing his fine mane of hair in the process, making him look more leonine, like his namesake. "Jordan, Tyson and Lance agreed too. We need a female singer for our band. It's all part of our grand master plan," he explained. He looked at Gabriel curiously and asked, "Why are you so eager to know, Lyndon?"

Gabriel turned to me, ignoring Leo's question. "Hey, Kaitlyn, why don't you try it out for a while? It might be a good chance to get some experience or something,"

What!? Now Gabriel has turned against me!? I'm soooo doomed. "What!? I thought you were my friend!!!" I cried, feeling betrayed.

Gabriel chuckled. "Kaitlyn, I still am your friend, and as a friend, I think it's a good opportunity and experience for you to join a band," he said, smiling at me. His smile was so whole-hearted; I couldn't help but give in. What happened to iron-willed Kaitlyn? She must've been on a different plane or something.

"Fine," I gave in, sighing. I seem to be doing that a lot these days. The stress in getting onto me. I need chocolate. NOW. "But don't regret it. I suck ass in singing,"

Not to mention, I have a stage-phobia, I added silently.

Jay happily sucked in the last remains of his orange juice in a carton. "Okay!! We have a slot in a concert tonight. Come by at five to get ready,"

WHAT!? I JUST JOINED AND THEY EXPECT ME TO START WORKING RIGHT AWAY!?

"Uh, hello? But if you haven't noticed, you just recruited me into your band at, oh, about, FIVE SECONDS AGO!?"

Jay stood up, as well as Lance, who was still reading (I guess he reads while walking) and Tyson. "Of course I know, but we're gonna be playing a few songs that you might be familiar with,"

"Are you unable to remember things or what?" I asked him desperately, "Because, F-Y-I, I have never, ever heard of your band until today and I don't know any of your songs!"

Leo arched his eyebrow. "My dear, why are you so anxious to not perform? I mean, that's what you'll mostly be doing now that you're in our band,"

I didn't reply, because I was busy blocking the unspeakable thoughts that were pouring into my mind.

I don't want it to happen anymore. Never. Ever. Again.

Chapter Two

2009-07-19T21:19:00.000-07:00

References: I'm not much of a lyrics-writer, so I'll be using a bunch of my favourite songs. The song used here is Dirty Little Secret by The All-American Rejects. THEY ROCK!

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

I blinked.

Dammit. I was never late for school back in Boston. And now thanks to that stupid, harassing, cocky jerk, my three-year-long record is going to be blemished.

"OHMYGODI'MSOLATE!!" I shrieked for the second time that day. I think I feel a sore throat coming on.
I hitched my backpack up higher on my shoulder and dashed past Jay and his groupies and into the school.

To tell the truth, I'm not much of a sporty person. I always managed to stay out of PE as much as possible, because I'm the Master of Avoidance. But strangely, I adopted the speed of a sprinter and hurdler as I miraculously managed to clear the many obstacles in the school compound aka the flower beds and pots in record time.

It's amazing what panic and fear can make you do.

I made it to my homeroom before the teacher did. Wait. Actually, I made it to my homeroom when the teacher did. I looked up at the teacher, putting on my 'please-don't-kill-me-pretty-pwease?' face. Genevieve's used it countless time on my parents when she's in trouble, and this is one of those rare times where the older sibling actually benefits from the younger one.

The teacher was a twenty-ish woman with platinum blond hair that framed her heart-shaped face in soft curls and pastel blue eyes behind a pair of frame-less glasses; a classic angel.

I think I died somewhere and I'm in heaven meeting my first angel. I could practically see the halo circling above her head and a pair of wings on her back.

"God?" I asked meekly.

"I'm not God. Don't be silly. You shouldn't use the Father's name in vain," the teacher reprimanded me as she cast a critical eye over me, "I'm your homeroom teacher, Ms. Samantha Fields. You're the new transferee, right?"
I nodded mutely. She is S-C-A-R-Y.

Okay. Note to self: Never judge book by its cover. It's deceptive.

"There's an empty seat at the back of the classroom. Kindly take your seat and don't be late again, understand?" she cast a critical eye over me, "I hope you know that you have just failed to make a good impression on me,"

I nodded again and pushed the door open and instantly, I felt all eyes upon me. Everyone was giving me a creepy once-over. I think it must be my shoes and hair. I can explain them, though.

You see, I took the liberty of the rule that said a student must wear black footwear and instead of the standard-issued Mary Janes, I decided to wear my favourite pair of high-tops. Mary Janes are so sixth grade.

As for my hair, it's naturally a dark auburn, but my mom dragged Genevieve and I to the salon a few months ago. My crazy mother wanted me to dye the whole thing red, but that would seem like I'm a Hayley Williams wanna-be. Which, by the way, I am not, albeit the fact I love Paramore and despite the fact it is a mainstream band, because in actuallity, I like songs that are good. Mainstream or not. So, I opted for red streaks instead. It's really cool actually.

But standing in a classroom full of Kens and Barbies made me feel like a hobo and totally uncool. Practically everyone had a Blackberry or and iPhone or an equivalent of that. I don't even own a freakin' cheapie cell phone yet.

I did the dignified thing and walked to the back of the classroom with my head held up high, wearing a reticent expression.

"Hey kitty,"

What. The. Hell!?

"What are you doing here!? You're supposed to be outside waiting for the police to pick you up, you escaped convict!" I hissed.

There sitting in the corner seat, was none other than glasses-guy a.k.a. Jayden Stanford a.k.a. Jay. He grinned at me as he easily lounged in his chair, twirling a pencil.

"Who says I'm an escaped convict?" Jay asked, arching an eyebrow, "I study here. Besides, I've never done anything illegal except littering,"

"Then how'd you get here so quickly!?"

"It's an art I've been practicing since middle school, kitty. Now why don't you take a seat? You're disrupting the class," He pointed his pencil towards the front of the classroom, and Ms. Fields and my new classmates were staring at me.

"Is there a problem with Mr. Stanford, Ms. Hunter?" Ms. Field's pastel blue eyes seemed to turn icy as she looked over at us. She's an angel turned ice queen.

"Nothing at all, miss," I mumbled, sinking into the empty seat next to Jay. Great, just great. My first day here, and I'm already in a teacher's black list. I had a surreal, twilight moment where I wondered whether this made me a school rebel or not. Apparently, I already look the part.

I sighed in exasperation as I took out a blank writing pad and writing stationery. I wish I was back in Boston.
"Stressed?" Jay asked, amusement glinting in his eyes, "It's only homeroom period, kitty,"

I glared at Jay. If only looks could kill. "My name is NOT kitty. How many times do I have to tell you that, Stanford!?"

"My name's not Stanford, kitty. It's Jayden. Jayden Stanford," Jay corrected, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Have you ever heard of a comb, then, Jayden?" I asked, "Because it's either that, or you're trying to be Robert Pattinson,"

Jay's expression sparked with interest. "Robert Pattinson? Really?" he asked, "So that must mean you think I'm one hell of a sexy guy then,"

Ew. I think I just re-swallowed my breakfast. Wait. I didn't even have breakfast. Oh well.

"Don't make me throw up," I rolled my eyes, grabbing a pencil and doodling over a blank sheet of paper, "Because aside from you being not sexy, I think Robert Pattinson is ugly,"

"Hey! Is it because he's British?" a familiar British-accented voice came from my other side. I turned left to see the super-hot British cutie. I think his name was Leo.

"No. I have nothing against British people. I like British accents, actually. They're pretty cute,"

Leo leaned towards me, and I could feel the heat rising within my cheeks. Damn it.

"The name's Leon Alexander. It's pronounced Lee-yon. Not Lay-yon. Leo for short. Pleased to meet you, Miss Kaitlyn Hunter," he traced a finger along the lines of my jaw and added, "You're a very, very cute lady,"

I felt like I was the prey and Leo's the hunter. I was extremely entranced in his charm when I felt the back of my collar being tugged and I was pulled away from Leo. "Hey, no flirting with the stressed-out kitty," Jay cut in, "Besides, you'll burn the eyes of the under-aged,"

"How'd you know my name?" I asked Leo, pretending that Jay hadn't disrupted the moment between Leo and I.

Leo winked at me. "I try my best to acquaint myself with all the beautiful ladies around here,"

"Do you say that to every girl you meet?" I asked, swatting Jay's hand away from me. I turned to Jay, giving him another pointed look. "Hands off. Do not touch me. I'm keen on not contracting any infectious diseases from you,"

"What about Leo then?" Jay whined. Ah. There's another part of the ego-maniacal band leader I haven't seen, and it's wayyy better than the usual one.

"Well, he seems perfectly trustworthy and doesn't harass others like some people I know," I said laconically, turning back to my drawing.

I heard Leo chuckle. "It's nice to meet someone who doesn't drool all over Jay," he said, "It's even better to know it's a cutie like you,"

I swear, in every sentence Leo speaks, there's always a flirtatious comment. He must speak a unique language or something. "I take back my words. Please don't touch me either,"

"Hah!" Jay snorted in triumph as Leo sent an injured look over to me.

Silence returned as Leo lost interest in me (thank god for that!) and Jay was moodily scribbling in his own writing pad. I happily immersed myself in my drawing. Who doesn't like drawing? It's so calm-inducing and takes away all your problems.

"Kaitlyn."

I guess I was wrong.

I looked up, and saw Jay with a mischievous expression on his face. "Kate-lynne..." he rolled my name off his tongue, somehow making it seem mysterious and exotic.

I felt my heart skip a beat. Must've been the lack of breakfast and jet lag, since I just arrived in Sandfields yesterday, because no way in hell am I falling for that son of a b-. Wait. Swearing's bad for the health. That's what my best frie-, sorry, my ex-best friend used to tell the jocks back in our Boston high school. And she always used to- wait. Must refrain myself from taking a trip down memory lane. It's v. v. dangerous.

"What?" I snapped at him. Can't a person be left in peace, even if it's only for a few minutes? I thought gentlemen were supposed to respect us ladies?

Oh wait. I momentarily forgot who I was talking about there. Sorry.

Jay squinted his eyes, cocking his head to one side, as if he were cross-examining me.

"What? I know I'm not shapely an' all, but you don't have to study me like I'm a freak,"

My words caused the egomaniac to sprout a grin on his face. "Well, it's true that I've seen and had women with better curves, language and manners..."

I hate him. I really, honestly do.

"...but I was just wondering, if you're so artsy and all, do you sing?"

Wait wait wait. Rewind. Did he just ask me if I could sing?

I think Jay's a guy who can't use a remote control. He keeps pushing all the wrong buttons.

Singing is something I do not like to associate myself with. It's, like, a forbidden zone for me. Ever since that day when- okay. I'm overstepping the boundaries again. No trekking down memory lane.

"Why do you want to know whether I'm vocally talented or not?" I asked, "Does it even concern you? Or are you just a busybody?"

Jay mocking placed a hand over his chest and put on a puppy-dog expression. "I'm so wounded that you think so lowly of me," he said, his lower-lip jutting out, "I was just asking a perfectly innocent question."

"What he means, my dear-," Leo spoke up, "-is that he had this genius inspiration at practice a few weeks ago, to include a female vocalist in our band,"

"Which everyone vehemently agreed to," Jay pointed out, "Because we're only drawing in female fans. It's not so bad having millions of women that we can tame, but we're lacking testosterone in our fan bases,"

Wow. The guy whose vocabulary consists only the words 'me', 'I' and 'mine' actually knows a few descriptive words.

"You can't even draw in homosexuals?" I asked, "Because in scientific terms, they do have manly assets. It's just that their hormone levels are unbalanced,"

Jay rolled his eyes with a 'God-why-me?' expression. "Look here, kitty. The Lightning Devils are really popular on the internet now, and we want to draw in straight guys, so that will higher the chances of us being a selling rock band when we go professional. We don't want to be like a band of Justin Biebers. We want to be legendary, just like Nirvana and such," he explained lengthily, "I didn't ask for a science lesson,"

I shrugged. "Well, too bad, because when I sing, flowers within a 60-mile-radius start wilting and thunder clouds approach the horizon,"

"That's rather descriptive," Jay mused, "But I gather that you're bluffing,"

"Too bad for you then," I said, smiling at him for the first time, "Because no one besides myself has heard me sing for years now,"

That's true. I don't sing for others. I sing for myself. I mean, who doesn't sing along to a catchy song?

Jay's face dropped a little before it brightened up again. "What are you having for the next period?" he asked.

"Are you a stalker or something?" I asked, annoyed at his constantly meaningless questions, "Because if you must know, I'm having a free period, which, if you really want to know, I'm spending in one of the empty art rooms I reserved when I registered here yesterday,"

"Wow, you work fast huh, kitty?" Jay commented, scribbling on a scrap of paper and flicking it over to Leo, whose eyes darted over the paper and pocketed it.

"What are you doing?" I asked, watching Leo furiously tap his fingers on his iPhone. Wow. I can't even type that fast.

"Guy stuff, darling," Leo winked seductively at me.

O-kay. I'll just quietly ignore these two Casanovas and do my drawing. It's way less traumatizing. If a little old lady had been in my place, I would've bet all my money that she'd have a heart attack on the spot fifteen minutes ago.

The bell rang and I quickly packed up my pencils and writing pad, excited at the prospect of spending a solitary hour in the art room. Maybe I'll do an abstract art on my mind's current state. Hm...that's quite a fetching idea.
I slipped out of the back door and happily skipped my way down to the art block. Well, 'skipped' may be over-stating, but I guess I was moving more along the lines of 'walking at a fast pace'.

You know the feeling a person gets when he's in an art room is really nice. It's sooo quiet, relaxing and stress-free. You can sculpt, paint or draw without distractions, because that's the actual purpose of an art room.

I viewed the many unfinished projects that other art-students had left inside the room. Every single one of them was finely detailed, even paint-splattered canvases. So maybe this school really is for the gifted and genius.

I think Aunt Elle bribed them to take me in. I bet they had only accepted Genevieve, seeing as she's a prima ballerina, and Aunt Elle bribed them or something to accept me as well. Maybe my darling parents asked her to do it.

I was peacefully sketching the faint out-line of my soon-to-be-painting, when I heard the faint sounds of a song being played. It was getting louder by the second, and I recognized the tune and lyrics.

'...a time or two, just to waste my time with you...'

The All-American Rejects!

The little girl in me starting jumping around happily and before I knew it, I was singing along to the all-too familiar lyrics as I dipped my paintbrush into the blue paste.

"Tell me all that you've thrown away," I sang loudly, "Find out games you don't wanna play; you are the only one that needs to know! I'll keep you my dirty little secret-!"

"And you said flowers wilt and thunder clouds approach when you sing."

An ominous chill tingled up my spine as the music paused and I recognized the low voice that belonged Jay.

Chapter One

2009-07-19T07:43:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it.

My parents, the people who conceived and gave birth to me, actually left me here in the middle of Nowhere with my crazy, shoe-selling, unmarried aunt to go on a trip around the world.

A week ago, I was happily going about shopping with my friends, watching the latest movies and hanging out at a café in good ol' Boston.

And the lovely entity up there decided to play a cute little trick on me and made my parents suddenly want to travel around the world. Do I get to follow? Nooooo.

Instead, they withdrew my name from my high school, packed up everything single thing I owned and shipped me to God-knows-where.

And the best thing is? My 'friends' have deserted me. Not one good-bye, not even a measly email.

Isn't life wonderful?

I stared at the cereal-filled bowl in front of me on the table. Did I mention that I'm not a breakfast kind of person?

"Kaitlyn!! Here's a welcome present from me!" a cheery voice trilled. A woman in her early thirties dropped a box on the table, making the bowl shake slightly. She had mouse-brown hair that was in a messy bun, royal-blue eyes and her skin was extremely tanned.

My eyes dropped from my aunt to the box. Oh. My. God. "Converse!? You got me sneakers!?"

My aunt's - her name's Raphaelle Sherwood by the way, but she insists we call her Aunt Elle or just plain Elle – smile dropped a little.

"You don't like sneakers?" she asked. I swear, I could hear the sadness in her voice.

"Are you kidding me? I LOVE anything from Converse! I literally have everything Converse!" I shrieked in delight.
Yep. I love Converse. In fact, I'm wearing a pair of black high-tops right now. Maybe having a crazy, shoe-selling, unmarried aunt ain't so bad after all.

Aunt Elle's face brightened up again. "That's great! I was afraid you wouldn't like them. Where's your sister?"

Did I mention that I have a younger sister in middle school? Oh, before I forget, she's a total pain-in-the-ass and loves anything girly and in frills. Her name's Genevieve. My parents adore her because she looks like a Barbie and is a freakin' ballerina.

"Genevieve's in her room, getting ready," I answered, putting the shoebox aside. I'll open it later. "Here's a tip: Don't give her Converse unless it's pink or girly. And I already got her Hello Kitty printed ones last Christmas."

Aunt Elle's face dropped again. "Oh dear. I got her red low-cut sneakers. What should I do?"

I shrugged, pushing the bowl away and standing up. "I'd advise you to go to the shop and change them into maybe Roxy flip-flops or something," I said wisely. I love to sound wise. It makes me feel even more mature. "Genevieve loves Roxy. She's a brand-conscious person like me,"

Yes. I'm a shallow person concerned with labels. Is that so wrong?

Aunt Elle sighed and plopped down onto one of the chairs in the kitchen. "Going so early?"

I grabbed my backpack and opened the kitchen door. "Private schools require punctuality, right? See ya later,"

I closed the door behind me and bravely walked down the pathway of the backyard and out of the small garden gate. I could hear my aunt calling my sister. "GENEVIEVE!! HURRY UP OR YOU'LL BE LATE!"

Hah. I'm the good girl this time. I could get used to this.

I looked around, sight-seeing as I walked to school. All the houses were considerably-sized and in neat rows. I passed a big sign with huge, iron block letters that spelt out 'Sandfields'.

You know, when I said middle of Nowhere, I meant it. I had never heard of any place called Sandfields, until my parents decided to buy two plane tickets for my brat sister and I and cargo all our belongings to this place. I always thought my Aunt Elle lived... well, I actually never really thought about it. Now that I contemplate on it, I feel pretty stupid.

I had been expecting barren deserts and cactuses galore, but instead, everything here seemed so perfect. Even the lakes that we passed by on our way to Aunt Elle's house were clear and scum-free. Makes me wonder whether this is the real world. I must've probably volunteered for some elaborate lifelike game simulation beta or something.

I could see a big brick building in the distance now. That pile of bricks is my new school, Sandfields Academy. Apparently, it's supposed to school all the most elite and smartest students around. Lord knows how Genevieve and I got in.

I looked up into the perfectly blue sky, wondering what I would've been doing if I was still in Boston, when conveniently, the divine prankster decided to trip me.

A very inappropriate word escaped my mouth, and I turned to glare at what had given me a free ticket to an early morning sidewalk facial.

A guitar case with a lightning sticker on the surface sat there in the middle of the sidewalk. "Who in hell do you belong to!?" I asked the guitar angrily.

This is sooo not what I would've been doing in Boston. Until today, I have never in my life talked to an inanimate object.

"Well, I'm not from hell, but that belongs to me," a low voice said. Hmph. A guy.

I looked up and a guy wearing dark glasses and a beanie pulled over his head stood in front of me.

I couldn't see his face, but from the looks of his well-toned biceps which were revealed by the rolled-up sleeves of the white dress shirt he was wearing as well as the steel stud in his left ear, he was probably below thirty.

Any thirty-and-above guy in his right mind doesn't wear a stud in his ear. It just screams lame and trying-too-hard-to-seem-young.

I stood up and directed my glare at him. "Who in their right mind would put a guitar case in the middle of the sidewalk and let people trip over it!?" I hissed at him.

Glasses-guy held up his hands in surrender. "Whoa there, kitty. I just happened to be carrying a lot of stuff today and somehow I dropped the guitar. I just came back to retrieve it."

"My name, for your information, is NOT kitty. It's-," I stopped, remembering what I had learned in pre-school. Never talk to a stranger.

Well, this guy definitely fits the bill of a stranger. He looked like a shady character, with the glasses and all. I wonder if he's a guitar-playing escaped convict. Or worse, what if he was carrying stolen stuff and happened to drop a stolen guitar and now he's gonna kill me because I found him!?

"OHMYGODI'MGONNADIE!!!!" I screamed, covering my mouth and taking a few steps backwards.

Glasses-guy looked up. I can imagine that he's rolling his eyes right now "Listen here, Kitty, I'm not going to kill you because you tripped over my guitar," he said, picking up the case, "In fact, a lot of girls would've loved to be in your position. I mean, they would've taken my guitar and given it back to me in exchange for a date,"

I abruptly recovered from my panic attack. "Well, excuse me for picking up your guitar and not asking you for a date then. I guess I'm not one of those girls." I snarled at him. Who did he think he was? Zac Efron? "And don't call me kitty. Only my parents call me that,"

Well, I didn't exactly mean to say that. But what was I supposed to say? It's my dead cat's name and calling me by its name is rude?

Glasses-guy had an amused smile. "Really? And where were you headed before you tripped over my guitar?"
Before I could answer, glasses-guy interrupted me. "Oh! You're going to school! Well, allow me to escort you,"

Damn my school blazer and sewn on emblem. He mockingly bowed down to me and stepped aside, allowing me to pass through.

I tentatively started walking again, and the glasses-guy straightened up and started following closely behind me.
"Do NOT come within thirty centimeters of me," I warned before turning back my attention to the sidewalk, "Or even better, don't follow me,"

I heard glasses-guy chuckle. Stupid jerk.

I increased my pace as I got closer to the academy, and I saw a cluster of very, very attractive guys all dressed in the academy male uniform standing in front of the gates. Are they shooting an advertisement or something?

The tallest one, a blonde with crystal-blue eyes took a step forward and opened his mouth. "Hey! Jay!" he hollered in a super-sexy British accent.

O-kay. His hotness-o-meter just increased by ten points. Who doesn't appreciate a hot British cutie? Definitely not me. Wait. Who's Jay?

I instinctively turned around and glasses-guy grinned and answered back. "Not so loud, Leo. I'm not deaf,"

So he's Jay. I guess even creepy, glasses-and-beanie-clad guys have names. Jay caught up with me and draped an arm around my shoulders.

"HARRASSER!!" I shrieked loudly. Jay hastily took his arm off me and sighed.

"Paranoid much, kitty?" Jay asked, taking off his glasses to reveal sea-green eyes. He pulled off the beanie and sun-kissed dark brown hair stuck up in all directions in tousled tufts. O-kay. I wasn't expecting glasses-guy to be that handsome. However, it still doesn't justify his dumbassery and hubris.

The British blonde, Leo, tilted his head sideways. "Who's that, Jay?"

Jay stopped in front of Hotties United and pulled the guitar case off his shoulder and let it rest against his leg. "Well, she tripped over my guitar. By the way, don't say anything that might offend her. She's as fierce as a kitty," he looked over at me and added, "Ain't that right, kitty?"

"I said my name is not kitty," I said stubbornly.

A brunette with blonde highlights grinned. "Feisty. My kinda girl,"

"Shut. Up." I growled.

A copper-haired guy turned to Jay. "She doesn't know who you are?" he asked. He sounds incredulous. Even the super-silent dark-haired one standing next to him with his eyes previously trained on his shoes looked up, eyes wide.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Jay asked, nodding, "She must be new or something,"

"New or not, she should know you. I mean, we have our faces posted all over town," the blonde-highlighted-brunette said. So Jay hangs out with his own kind. Cocky hotties.

"Well, she tripped over something this visible," Jay pointed at his guitar, "So obviously she won't notice the posters,"

"Can you not pretend that I'm not here and tell me what the hell you all are talking about!?" I asked, annoyed, "Because I'm quite late here. If not, I'll kindly take my leave."

Jay held up a hand. "Okay. I'll tell you who we are. We form an amateur rock band called The Lightning Devils, and we're pretty famous here in town." He turned to his friends, "Maybe she's not that big of a rock fan,"

The Lightning Devils.

Hm…I distinctly recall my Aunt Elle saying something about future international celebrities living here in Sandfields. I guess she must mean these people.

"Well, excuse me for not knowing you then, because I have better things to do, other than looking at every single poster I pass. Besides, I just arrived here," I said haughtily, "Putting that aside, I, in fact, am a very big fan of The All-American Rejects and Paramore!"

"Okay, okay! Chill there kitty!" Jay still had that amused grin on his face. "What's your name and where're you from?"

"Isn't it common courtesy to introduce yourself before starting a conversation?" I shot back a question of my own.

"Fine. My name's Jayden Stanford. I'm the super-awesome lead guitarist of The Lightning Devils and a student of this school in the eleventh grade."

Okay. So maybe he isn't that much of a stranger after all. He's the same age as me. And if he tries anything funny, I have my geometry set with my compass in it. And being a bit eccentric, I sharpen my compass' point every, every morning.

Before I could introduce myself though, the bell rang.

Shoot.

I'm late for class.