chapter 3

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Some higher power must have been looking out for Tori, because semi-finals went without a hitch and in just 18 hours they'd be performing at Melfest for the last time. Lately it felt like every time she and Emily got on stage, they became less themselves and more something else entirely — each of them anticipating the other's every move and every note. Emily had been the one to point it out, babbling on about how it felt like they shared a body in some way, like a soul tie, whatever that meant. Tori was getting better every day at tuning Emily out whenever words like 'mindfulness' and 'spiritual alignment' started popping up in conversation. According to Emily, Tori had a blocked heart chakra and, according to Emily, chakras had nothing to do with Chaka Khan.

Woo-woo shit aside, Tori had danced with five companies over the years and had sang in more than a few vocal groups and church choirs (and one ill-fated punk rock band in the late nineties) — she knew what it meant to perform as a part of a whole, but it had never felt so effortless. The fear that maybe they'd come this far only to get knocked out in the finals still hung heavy in her mind — there was a soloist who'd made it through with a vocal range that put Tori's to shame, and of course she'd entered with a fucking power ballad — but she pushed it down as best she could. They'd made it to the finals, so maybe she couldn't belt a G7 like fucking Mariah Carey, but clearly she was doing something right.

"Turn on MTV," Emily instructed, "Newlyweds is on."

"I couldn't give less of a shit about Nick Lachey, Emily. The best thing 98 Degrees ever did was break up."

"They're on an extended hiatus!"

"Yeah, well, I hope it extends until I'm dead," she adjusted the ice pack on her leg, wincing at the sting, "And Jessica Simpson's a fucking idiot."

"That's, sorry," she paused and Tori could hear the distinctive sound of chewing on Emily's end, "That's totally the whole point."

"Are you eating?"

"Yeah, I made brownies," she explained, "Couldn't sleep."

"And by brownies you mean..."

Emily snorted, "The ones that make you sleep. Want some? I can run them up."

"I'm not really a drugs person."

Emily hummed in approval, "Fair. Will you at least watch the episode with me, though? C'mon, I already know you're awake."

"Fine," Tori huffed, "Call me back on my cell. I have unlimited minutes after ten."

"I didn't know you had a cell phone."

"It's 2005, Emily, of course I have a fucking cell phone."

"Well, you never gave me your number," Emily pointed out.

Ah, fuck. Tori racked her mind for an excuse, coming up short, "Yeah, that's because, um..."

"You didn't want me texting you," she finished knowingly.

"That's not entirely it," Tori floundered, "It was more that Agnes would call me every hour of every day if she could, so I gave you both my landline and then after a while I figured it would kind of just," she trailed off, "You know, like, at that point it would probably just be insulting?"

She braced herself for Emily's response, letting out a trapped breath when Emily only chuckled, "Guess I finally made it past the nine month probationary period. Phew."

"You know me. Always doing things by the book around here."

"No shit," she laughed, "Okay, go to channel nine and call me back."

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