It Wasn't Supposed To End This Way (A Starkid Fan Fiction)

Chapter 46-1,200 Entries, Two Winners

Chapter 46

"How many songs did they write, jeez! This is ridiculous!" I joke with Matt.

"No, what's ridiculous is how much money a reading is costing!" Nick calls over his shoulder from his room. He's sitting on the computer, cursing at it as Matt and I laugh from the couch.

"You guys have some seriously devoted fans, I must say," I tell Matt as I scroll through all the videos sent in.

A Very Potter Senior Year, aka AVPSY starts in eight days and so far all we've done is receive a shit ton of fan feedback. Nick went with Matt this morning to their PO box and ended up taking home six crates of packages.

"Holy shit," I'd said when I'd come over.

"Yeah..." Nick had replied. "This is what happens when we ask for fan involvement."

"We have to go through all of this?"

"Sadly, yes. And we only have seven days to do it."

I'd spent one more day with Joey in LA before traveling back to New York to help the Lang's out. Nicki is staying with Joey until next Thursday when they'll fly back for AVPSY. (He insisted he'll be okay to preform for three and a half hours. He just needs to take it easy before the show.) Everyone else is coming back whenever, but I came back so I could help the Lang's. Brian did, too. But he's out right now making a coffee run.

"This could take weeks to sort through, all of it," I complain again to Matt. He's currently opening the hundreds of packages from fans of props and scenery. This is also Holden's job, but again, not here right now. Apparently the place they used for the PO box got pissed at their package intake and told them they better either come back every day or close their PO box. So Nick told every Starkid to tweet out that they weren't accepting any more props or costumes or anything. Anyone else who sends anything in has to get it back. It sucks for the fans, but I understand everyone's point of view. That just makes me biased. "And we only have until next Thursday. This is why you guys can't plan a show in a month."

"We have," Matt says, opening another box. "And we did. Get over it you baby."

I throw a ball of paper at his box. "Shut up," I laugh.

"How many of those songs are there anyways? I just accepted them to the play list, didn't pay attention to a number. I stopped counting after twenty."

I scroll through to the top of the play list. "Over a thousand," I groan. "Great. That's going to take at least two days and then I have to help you and Holden with packages and going over the script, right?"

Matt puts down the box cutter. "Hey," he says, raising his eyebrows and smiling. "You said yes to joining Starkid. You're going to help with everything, not just the 'fun stuff!'"

"But the fun stuff is the best part!" I jokingly groan.

"Listen to the music already."

I hear Nick slam his fist in his bedroom again. He shouts a few curse words and then another slam. I pick up the laptop and carry it with me as a song written by a twenty year old plays through the headphones. I knock on Nick's door and look inside to make sure he's alright. Nothing seems broken, but I've never been in here and don't want to intrude.

"You alright, Nick?" I ask, one headphone out of my ear blasting the saxophone solo.

He runs his hands through his already thinning hair. "Yea, great," he breathes. "Never fucking better."

"I can give you a hand if you want? I'm not great at math but I'm pretty okay with basic addition and subtraction," I offer.

"Aren't you working on this song search?" Nick asks.