Pyrrhic Victory Song

   

Stark described the room well. Bland mud comforters tucked into side-by-side full beds. Light stained wood nightstand held ancient handset phone and clock radio. Tight knit carpet crunched as the first girl entered, dragging her bow bedecked rolling case. Thin curtains sharing the third story view fluttered as other girl slinked in behind her, forlorn. "A cave has a better color pallet," she mumbled as she fell backwards onto the bed, backpack cast to the carpet before, rolling suitcase left beside the door.

Squeals reverberated as the first girl danced around, her laminated American Competitive Cheer and Dance League badge spinning like a scythe. Coal Nfinity® backpack landed cockeyed inside a hotel sofa chair as she shucked it off while back flipping onto the other bed. She glanced over at her roommate and best friend's ceiling gaze and sighed.

"We're at Worlds, Gwen. We made it! What could possibly be wrong?"

"I miss her, Aria. Lorelei told me about this. She wanted me here. We promised each other we would make it once together, even though we were at different gyms. This," she enunciated with hands thrust at the ceiling, "would have been the second time we both would have made it. It's gone now." Her voice took on a distinctive Australian accent. "That coach stole it from her, me and everyone he killed at 'Ghost town'." With a resigned sigh, she shrugged. "I'm fine. I'm not missing this year as well because of Delamort", Gwen said as she sat up, hazel eyes blinking away tears.

Aria sprung from her bed into standing full that catapulted her onto the other bed landing beside Gwen. Embracing her friend in a tight squeeze, she grinned sympathetically. "We'll do it for Lorelei. I'll let everyone know when we go out for the preview."

Tossing herself off the bed, she frowned at the bland, Mickey Mouse adorned room. "We can't stay in here; we're in Disney World®! You need serious cheering up and I know exactly who can do that!"

Gwen whipped her butternut tresses around, a smirk on her thin lips. Striding to the window, she pushed a gap in the curtains. Sky and railing stared back. "We were told not to leave our hotel room until preview." That amused smirk held fast.

Aria ran over to the door, jerking it open. "So? Does either of us really need chaperons considering who we are? Really!?" She folded her arms under her petite bust. Suddenly in the open doorway, a thick, brawny guy with a square jaw and caramel cotton candy hair stood his deeply tanned right arm raised. Wide hazel eyes connected with Aria's chocolate ones as she gave him the one over while flashing a sexy smile. "Rick? Still with Tsunami I see."

He tugged the black Tsunami with a 'T' in the wave t-shirt, grinning. "Still a Grace Wolverine I see." He poked her in the chest, her glitter manicured hand brushed just beneath the gold crown bedecked Star and paw emblazoned on the T-shirt she wore.

Recognizing him, Gwen's face grew hard. "Not interested." Her fierce hazel gaze crushed his mirth.

"I didn't hook up with Mandy. A rumor, Gwen, nothing more." He held his hands out, pleading. "I never loved her. Why would I want pursue her when we spent all our time together at Nationals? Come on! Go to the pool with me. I know how much you love the water."

"She's on your squad. She tweets," hissed out. "And you expect me to fall back into your arms? I won't be added to your ever growing jar of hearts."

Aria turned, looking up at her much taller friend. She shook her head, while making a slicing motion before her neck.

Gwen caught her gaze, and said 'no' in an ancient language only she and Aria understood. Resting her hands as if playing a piano, soft piano music wrapped around them. "No, Rick. I cannot take one more step towards you; all that is waiting is regret. Don't you know I am not your ghost? You lost what you wanted most."

Immediately mesmerized by Gwen's luscious singing, Rick stood silent. A pleased smile formed as burst from her and engulfed him. Indigo sparks leapt from her fingertips into hard light constructs of a traditional brownstone stairwell, sidewalk and even two parked 1970's sports cars. Fog rolled in, thick and soupy as ash and rose petal fluttered in the sudden soft breeze. Gwen strolled amongst them, continuing the chorus, before the song's bridge.

Aria shook her head, stepping back from the constructs to the room beyond. Withdrawing a pearlesque crystal, she rubbed it once and released it. It floated to her head height, that of Gwen's shoulders, and watched Gwen orbit Rick as she sung. Luminous radiance made her caramel tan glisten. The white lace gown shined casting an ethereal glow as mist formed on Rick, held by her siren song and its magical photokinetic creations.

As the song's sharp crescendo faded into silence, Aria looked about in silent amusement. Chilly wind swept by, causing shivers before the warmth of the humid Florida hit them again. The constructs shattered into shards of light that faded like so many fireflies. Rubbing her arms, Aria waited as she did hundreds of times before. She knew what happened whenever Gwen got so wrought up. Grabbing the pearl, she pocketed it after rubbing it again.

Finally, with a piercing stare, Gwen dropped her hands, and projected her voice. "Go from me, you cheating bogan! Steal Mandy's heart instead. In fact, steal all their hearts." Watching awareness flicker back in his eyes, fury swirled in her own. "I have no time for cheaters and players." Her arms, now akimbo, sparkled as they still dripped water.

He shook his head, confused then frowned. "I'm not a player, Gwen. I wish you could see that."

"See that you lied? I am not here for this or you. You are lying to me now as sure as that buzz from your jeans is your phone." She said, flatly. Looking past him, she stared at the sky blue railing and matching sky beyond.

"Aria, you want to go? Some fun to take our mind of the competition tomorrow?" He smiled, a little more agitated, wiping his damp brow while catching her shrugged shoulders. He tugged at his black jeans, stepping back from the doorway. Gwen wheeled on her, waiting. Eyes still afire, her face remained blank. "Go if you want. I'm gonna tweet and stretch." She said, walking away from them both and collapsing on the bed.

With another shake of her head, Aria said, "Seriously?" in the same language Gwen said 'no' in, shrugged, then rolled her eyes.

"Yes. You owe me nothing."

"Meet me in the lobby in fifteen minutes then?" Aria chirped in English, the sexy smile beaming at Rick who sighed happily. He grinned again, a heavy burden lifted. "Yes. See you there." He sprinted off down the concrete walk.

"I hope he catches a cold from the ice inside his soul." She hissed as Aria shut the door softly, the scent of laurel elm and drake oak no longer intruding on the room's ever present 'clean linen' aroma. Only now, the room felt more humid and held a salty tang.

"Did you really need to go all siren on him?" She stormed to the bed's edge, arms akimbo. "What if the Piscine saw?"

A snort accompanied another eye roll. "Here? Nah. I look too raggedy to be recognized. Besides, it bubbled up. You know how I am. Heavy stress will pull appropriate music down. How was it? It's new..."

"Beautiful. I want to use it for our next Saturday concert." Aria smiled, rocking on her tar suede booties. "Teach me?"

Hesitation held sway. "It's a golden ticket. If it gets out it will scatter all the rest of her music to the seas. She's a waitress right now."

"And?" She smirked. "We are high borne members of the Assembly. You know me. Why would I steal from a low born surface waitress?"

Gwen snorted. "Promise? No singing it in on YouTube®?" She asked cautiously.

"I promise," she repeated, then added under her breath when Gwen turned her back, "no such thing." A devious grin parted her lips. "Ready when you are."

As Aria left, another member of Wolverine Gold stood by the door, all smiles and bubbliness. Sauntering in, she glanced around the unperturbed room, surprised. "They gave you an ugly room!" She rested thick hands on wide black skirted hips. The red-lipped smirk bubbled into a hug as she pulled Gwen in.

"Amber, Oh my God, you're dark!" A soft push bumped her away as wide eyes scanned the buxom 16yr olds body.

Pulling briefly on her 'Wolverines, queens of the world' t-shirt, complete with a star & paw on a globe logo, a flash of black sports bra appeared. Adjusting it, she wheeled around, flashing the back, which read 'Snap for us! You know you want to.' "Aria texted that 'you choked up' today. I agree we should honor Lorelei. She's one of us now and forever, right?"

Gwen hugged her again. "Yes. Still..."

"I know we talked on the plane. We're going to do it this year." Amber's poker straight maroon locks shook as she nodded.

"Seriously? Everyone agrees?" Gwen grinned.

"Everyone I talked too. Coach Grace and Harton think we should." Just then, a chirp followed by a kerplunk echoed. Both ladies withdrew their phones checking texts. Gwen showed Amber hers. "Looks like fun time is beginning now. Preview is in an hour. Where is Kevin?"

Amber nodded then covered her mouth hiding a broad grin. "He's in with Pey and Nicole. Coaches don't know because he's not a Wolverine. Apparently he convinced someone he needed to room with them."

Shaking her head softly, she chuckled. "It's the VIP pass he has. He's part of the gym because of me so--" she looked at the mirror, hazel eyes red rimmed and face flushed, "Am I red?"

"Looks like you cried. How is he with the gym because of you?" Amber asked politely. Gwen dodged the question as she ran in and out of the bathroom to fix her makeup.

Groaning, Amber threw her hands up. "What about Callie Clerksone? Is that why?"

Gwen stuck her head out the doorway, her golden tanned face suddenly free of all makeup. "He told you?"

"No, I did." A deep, manly voice accompanied by a smarmy smile floated in. Firmly affixed to a square faced, ebony stubbled young man who reclined on the first bed.

Smug transformed into fear as she sprung at him, her body crashing where he just lay, her golden, quilted leather, evening bag slapping his thick legs.

"Gwen! I have a reason to be here."

Pulling up herself into a cross-legged sitting position, she groaned. "You promised."

Beside his black jeans was a refrigerated tote hanging from his hands. Bows ran the length of the strap, various colors and logos including her own gym's claw clenching a seven pointed star and '' beneath it. A charming smile returned, with a hint of mischievousness. "Forget something?"

Reaching for it, she fell into him arms, him squeezing her into a tight hug. "You play dirty. Give it to me."

"Amber's watching!" He whispered.

Blush flooded her face as she shoved him jokingly away. "Seriously. I have the preview in an hour."

Amber uttered an audible sigh. "Callie Clerksone?"

"What about her? Didn't Kevin convince her people to do the song for us?"

"He said something when he mumbled through the noise." Amber shook her head, irritated.

Plucking at the 'Coupe du Monde Shooting Stars' button attached to her Worlds 2009 t-shirt, Gwen stared at him. He leaned against her causally dragging a finger across her sea-foam skirt draped thigh.

"Probably the bit about the full ride. She just finished a concert here so if she and her band stay, it's our doing. Also, they have a gig on the 29th. Last Smash Platinum Bash in the Arizona center in Tucson." He rolled off the bed. "I covered for him when he choked. Said it would all be covered. That's the other thing in the bag."

Gwen shook her head. "It's not a cashier's check, is it?" She glanced over his straight leg jeans and crinkled oxford shirt, a soft grin at his discomfort. "Tell me there is a cashier's check in there."

He looked at Amber who seemed frozen in mid text. "You act like I killed someone."

She snapped back. "No, but where..." She waved her hands. "I don't want to know."

Zipping open the bag, Gwen grimaced. Four thick stacks of blue-banded 100s surrounded six anchored vials of milky white fluid spiraling gray bands occasionally.

"Cash?" she growled. "How in Buckley's boiling water, did you get cash?" She bit her lip.

Amber repeated a phrase into the phone. "Yes, he has it. Tell them he'll be down in--" Gwen shouted, "Twenty minutes." Amber looked at her. "He's doing my poof as punishment."

Tom face-palmed. "Seriously?"

She nodded and he just sighed, shaking his head.

Aria stood in the garish lobby, glancing around for Rick or anyone else from Tsunami. Various people milled about. Camera bedecked tourists stood gawking, their luggage beside them; their children with mouse ears firmly ensconced their heads. Older, flabby employees with worn expressions stood helping, their manner the opposite of the sky blue uniforms they wore.

Sighing, she weaved around the rope maze blocking access to ketchup and mustard toned lorry counter. A youthful concierge caught her grimace and badge, waving her up. "Miss Darri, what can I do for you?" He smiled, his eyes drifting down toward her chest briefly before reconnecting.

"I'm looking for someone. Tall, muscular, square jaw, blue eyes, brown hair?"

As he went to open his mouth, an older gentlemen in a solid black suit shouted, "I don't really care. Call the room then. I just want to solve this. We wasted a lot of time and money if we are being jerked around. Fuck it up and that's the end of us using your resort." The young woman bristled, tugging at her red gold pony as she typed into the computer. "His name, Mr. Blackrock?"

"Kevin Jalbert." Only he pronounced it, Jal-bert rather than Jal-bare.

"Calling the room now," she replied quickly, hiding her shaking not as well as she thought.

Aria looked back over as the clerk helping her repeated, "His name?"

"Rick Sutter, He's on Maryland Tide Tsunami."

"Thanks," he replied almost sarcastically.

Looking back at Blackrock, she frowned, her brow furrowed.

"Reed Blackrock. He manages Callie Clerksone." The guy said with a touch of annoyance. "Rick's room isn't answering. Anything else I can do?"

"Yea, try being nicer. I don't appreciate being checked out." The guy pasted on a flat smile. "My apologies, Miss Darri."

Shaking her head, she starting texting Gwen, when a message appeared. 'Tom has the money. I don't. Oh fuck, I am so dead. FML.'

'He's here?' She texted back while keeping an eye on Mr. Blackrock standing impatiently at the counter. He occasionally looked around at the blood read lamps hanging above or the gray tile below before returning to staring at the dark blue wall beyond with its football and basketball players.

"Ms. Darri, others need assistance." He asked her politely.

"So help them," she quipped, texting to Gwen, 'Where is Tom?'

"I can't, if you are standing in front of me." He sighed, struggling to hide the irritation.

Focused chocolate eyes connected with his scowl. "Then call my room. When Gwen picks up tell her to get the money to Kevin. Okay?!" She glared, annunciating every word. Shock registered on him as she ducked the fabric bar stepping into the aisle with Mr. Blackrock. "Your money will be here. We wouldn't waste your time, Mr. Blackrock."

He turned, appraising her, surprise morphing into curiosity. "Kevin mentioned cheerleaders. You are?"

She looked him over as well. Tall, broad chested man with a round face covered in a clipped salt and pepper beard and mustache. Muddy eyes stared dispassionately. "Captain of the squad she is playing for." Aria grinned.

He didn't. "Nice. Perhaps we can continue this when the money arrives. I do have other things to do today other than wait."

Blowing out a breath, Aria stooped under the fabric ropes bolting towards the open door. A mechanical hiss shump sound filled the air masking everything save the breeze. In the distance, she saw him, weaving, throwing himself forward, and bobbing back. Rigid dusky black titanium columns ending in foot shaped pads stamped the concrete as Kevin hurried a tan, nylon, money belt in one fist.

A brief sprint and she stood before his rectangular face and lithe body. His badge hung behind him, its lanyard wrapped twice around his neck. "You OK?"

He shook his head, as he pulled the blue straps back around him. Reaching for the money belt, she unzipped it and gasped. A quick glance accompanied its rapid zip up. "Tom?

"Yes. He's doing her makeup for the preview." He shook his head, sardonically amused.

Aria grinned. "He's actually good too." Then she realized what he said. "When's the preview?"

"45 minutes," He said as he walked off.

She sighed. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He shouted as he lumbered away, still chuckling.

Pressing her eyes closed briefly, she trotted back into the lobby. Mr. Blackrock stood silently, stoic. "You have it now?"

"I do." She grinned brightly, handing him the bag. Taking it gingerly, he glanced askance. A quick unzip, shock washed across his face, as fingers fluttered in the bag itself. Concern filled his gaze followed by a relieved sigh. "I'll call him when they arrive. He said they were needed tomorrow." He turned, walking away.

"If they are here now, could she help us now?" She pleaded showing her best sad, desperate face.

Shaking his head before he turned around, he mumbled 'teenagers' under his breath. "Ask her yourself. Room 3218" He stepped swiftly out to a waiting black vehicle, its windows tinted as dark as the body.

Squeeing, she ran to the resort map hanging on the lobby wall and analyzed it before sprinting off.

Gwen sat before the bathroom vanity, staring at Tom's boxy, lean reflection. He bore a thin-toothed comb in one hand and a can of Aussie® mega hold hairspray in the other. "Are you OK?"

Contemplating his stubble, she frowned. "Not really. It's so hard. She should be here with me laughing that finally I am at her level."

Teasing her forearm length honey bangs, he grinned, eyes sparkling. "She would too. 'About time, Gwen.' With her buddy hug she always gave when she was excited." Rolling the bangs forward on her head, he heard a sniff. Tears streamed from her eyes as she tried to blink them away. Spraying the poofed hair, he bound it with a golden fish encrusted elastic band. "I'm so sorry, Gwen. I miss her as well. So much."

"No. It's just—she was my sister. My friend. I didn't see her with you that much." He furrowed his brows. "After those first couple of times." Curiousness stemmed the tears.

"Around you maybe. Did we not go to meet the people at Fraunces Tavern? We went through the gate together numerous times. Wouldn't you find that odd if she didn't know me well consider how protective she is of the truth?" He cocked his head, a smug smile reflecting back.

Her soft sigh matched the wide-eyed stare. "We have many secrets!"

"You forget too easily. Lean forward unless you want a low pony."

Staring at the patchy tan carpet, suddenly thing gelled. "Why?"

"She needed my uncle's help; I needed help escaping Detroit. When she knew I could be trusted, she shared. You remember that night on the train." He sang the opening lines to Journey's 'Don't stop believing' as he gently pushed her head so she righted herself.

Stroking her ponytail, she grinned. "You never cease to amaze me." Suddenly the joy seeped out as she realized how much she looked like her sister. She shook, tears falling in torrents.

"I can't do your makeup like that." He frowned, grabbing a hand towel with mouse ears all about it. "You're red and puffy."

A playful punch struck his shoulder as he squeezed her tight. "I miss her so much. This day especially. She was so proud of Coupe du Monde and her teammates. She always spoke about how much they taught her. How Chelsey was her away from home little sis. The work was worth it, even if she used a gate, walked through a tavern, crossed three blocks of lower Manhattan to a ferry then drove 20 miles to the gym."

Gwen grinned again, chuckling. "Mom never did understand why her car was in a ferry parking lot in upper New Jersey." Then the smile vanished again, her face morose. "I don't know why she had to go see Coach Sylvan."

"I think it has to do with honor. Coach Sylvan was many things, none good but she was aware of Lorelei's skills being wasted with her. What bow?" He brought the case over, trying to get her mind on something happy.

"Gold." She sighed, inhaled and faced him. His nose brushed hers, as she smelt the coffee on his breath. He pecked her lips before she could turn away.

Holding her hands, she fidgeted with her nails trying to catch her breath.

"What does Aria know?"

"About what? We broke up." Distance clouded his gaze along with furrowed brows. "She's not who I thought she was either. She revealed herself to me on an island with a gate. She wanted to bond with me and present me to her grandfather as her token guy. I left her in the moon pool wanting me to kiss her. She never loved me. I'm a means to an end with her."

Gwen beheld his face as he tied on the bow to her pony. "You're angry with her."

"Disgusted. The look on her face when I said no and walked across the sand was priceless. I only wish I could have seen the one when I activated the gate."

"She had to know. The gates aren't accessible to surface people. You have to be a member of the Assembly or been touched to operate one. It requires training, just like this. "She waved her hands aloft. A pleased smile washed the tension away. "Have you talked since?"

"No, it was yesterday." He shook his head.

"That explains the song." She grinned but it drained out. A bitter breeze chilled her as she sat suddenly shivering. Looking at Tom in wide-eyed horror, he zipped open the bag, pulled out an ampule gun and vial. "Hold on. I got you."

"It's not that. This is different." She chattered, hugging herself.

With the vial inserted like a battery, he pressed the gun against her neck, squeezing the trigger gently.

"Something changed. I feel it." Grimacing, she blew out a breath. Seeing him pull away the gun, she stood, heading for the door still in a gold wolverine sports bra and thong.

"Gwen?!" He shouted, grabbing her hand. She shook him off, glaring at him. "She stole the waitress's song. Somehow, Aria managed to steal 'Jar of hearts' and it's my fault. I sang it to her. That bitch." She stepped forward and he held her hand again. This time she couldn't. "Let go."

"No. You aren't decent. You know better. This is neither the time nor the place to handle this. Let it go for the moment. We can handle this when we get back."

"We?" She matched his gaze. "There is no 'we'." Arms folded akimbo as her accent grew sharp.

Ebony locks shuffled as his head shook. "Really?" He gestured towards the mirror. Her poof was perfect, the star and claw bow straight. "I never did this for Aria." He blew out a breath, as she pulled her hand away. Shivers ran down her spine as she stared at him.

Another song bubbled up. Obvious to her distance stare, he grabbed her shoulder. Warmth and presence washed over, dragging him under. The room faded away replaced with a sand dunes being sculpted by a still breeze. Looking upward, Gwen stood incandescent. flowed from her lips as streams of mist coalesced into a stone ring bedecked in ancient symbols. As she passed through its watery center, he felt jerked through. Mist surrounded him as his chest and hands smacked frozen waves. Scrambling up, images of the Walkersville train station, Judice Inn, and ocean swirled around as stumbled into her mist spray, A clock fell into his hands before exploding in a burst of light.

Each time she sang the chorus, an ardent, intense stare bewitched him, rendering him briefly immobile. Scenes changed around him rapidly from streets, to a warehouse with swinging light bulbs to a sand dunes and her standing still, arms upraised. As the song ended, she glistened, her hair slicked back and dripping.

Suddenly, everything snapped back to the drab room they were standing in. Pain blossomed from his cheek. Gwen glared, rage rippling off her. "You had no right." She turned away, digging through her pack for her cheer shorts.

"You act as if I did that deliberately." He stood, rubbing his cheek.

"I'm a siren! You KNOW the answer to those questions." She hissed, breath heaving. "AS much as I might want to, I can't!"

"Then why are you my clarity?" He flashed a telltale suave smile, dodging another slap. As he caught her hand again, she pivoted around him, swinging her fist. "Calm. I'm not the enemy nor am I your scratching post," he spoke soothingly as he ducked. That's when he noticed her trembling.

Releasing her hands, he stepped back. Immediately, she pulled free the shorts. Intricate paw prints with the iconic four claw tip ran along the sides delicately constructed from black and yellow mystique against a black mesh backdrop. Against the gold front and back panels, center waist logo slash faux belt buckle stood out as the clear Swarovski elements that composed it winked in the light.

"Why?" She turned, frowning but no longer shaking. "I know what you want. You know my answer. Yet you still return."

"You are lying to yourself. You have since that night and you know it. I know it. I want to be here when you quit."

A heavy groan erupted as she tore through her pack for her half top. It flew through the air, landing on the opposing bed in a rumpled clump. He spread the Gold DryTech® fabric out, its elegant off the shoulder design with golden mesh underlay weaved into the sleeves sublimating into onyx at the cuffs. Onyx crisscross neck straps glowed with Swarovski elements. Flipping it over, the Steel Mystique claw on the back wrapped around to the front of the cheer top terminating in a Gold Mystique star with onyx wolverine paw overlaid. Dispersed amongst the long sleeves more Swarovski elements. Scattered in a delicate pattern throughout the entire half top was the gym logo itself; the self-same claw grasping a star.

Folding her arms under her petite bust again she stood, staring coldly. "Are you done analyzing my top? It's not like you haven't seen it before."

Glancing at his watch, he lobbed it at her, a disarming grin in place. "I haven't up close." Stepping forward, her hands clenched around it. "One more step and it's out. Seriously, it's bad enough she has to break my trust but you?"

Dropping to the bed, he turned to the wall, letting her delicately change. "I need to do your makeup or do you want to do that yourself too?" The edge in 'you' spoke volumes as a heavy sigh collapsed on him.

"Turn around," she spoke tugging on his shoulder. "You are my best friend. She isn't. I let her believe that because I want our houses to be at peace. I'm a Cetus. She's a Natal. The bad blood is there."

He stared at the wall still, rubbing his face and inhaling. "Lorelei told me the night before the shooting. She told me about us. "

Gwen stepped back, glancing at the clock radio's time. "We have 30 minutes. Where is Aria?"

Frowning, he pointed to her open pack. "Amber took her uni to her. I'm guessing she's in her room." He shrugged his shoulders. "She'll be there. This is as important to her as it is to you."

Gwen shook her head, the bow wiggling slightly. "She's further away. She must be with the band." She ground her teeth.

He dove off the bed, scooping her into his arms. A squeak tumbled from her as she stared at him confused and concerned. Placing her gently back into the chair he used earlier again; he turned it to face him. "I care about you. I know Lorelei spoke to you about us."

Rolling her eyes, she took his hand. "Why can't we leave it as friends? I don't want you to get hurt. You are far too involved with my family as it is being a surface person."

Hurt crinkled his eyes as he reached for her makeup case. "We always end up here. I want more. You--"

"Don't want you hurt." She finished earnestly. Closing her eyes as he brushed Urban Decay® 'Half Baked' gently, he smiled softly. "You never relent."

"You never give up either. Other guys would have left long ago. None would ever do makeup. It's an extremely feminine thing. Don't say 'I love you' either."

"Why not? It's true. For both of us. Even if I had bonded with Aria, you think she would have let me do her makeup?"

"No, because she never trusted you. I'm different?" Hesitance resounded as she asked the question.

"You know how hard it was to learn to do this properly? I went to 'Gin and Tonic' to find someone who could teach me. I did it for this reason. You shut people out."

"No I don't." Hazel eyes snapped open, judging. "People cross me too much. Besides I have friends."

Tom put the 'Good Karma' shadow brush back into the palette. "Name one other than Amber, me or Aria."

"Allison Blake." She stared triumphantly.

He shook his head. "She's Aria's now. I saw that text fight because I was with Aria that night." He grimaced, distant and grim before pasting on a smile.

"Kevin." Her smug grin held as he grinned wickedly.

"He isn't either. You blackmailed him because he discovered you."

Chuckling accompanied the shocked o her lips made before she closed them. "How? I told him if he ever spilled I'll sing him into the sea."

Rising, he doubled over laughing. Breathing heavy and wiping his eyes, he shook his head. "So that's how he got under Aria's thumb. She knows and keeps using it against him."

Hands rested on hips as her lips curved in displeasure. He rested a finger against them grinning like a fool. "I laugh because I know it's an idle threat. You wouldn't kill him. You hate death. She would. Come on, she's called him a peasant several times. She doesn't care about his feelings. She's a self-absorbed princess who demands her own way, pushing hard if she can't."

Gwen glanced over to the door, noticed Aria standing in the open doorway. Distraught, she walked to her pack, lifted it and returned to the doorway while he continued to brush rouge on her cheeks. "Didn't you love her?" she asked while staring at her.

Tom paused. "She's a friend. I don't think anyone can love her right now. "

Aria grimaced, shook her head and left. Suddenly, Tom turned around, connecting the dots. Cursing, he stared into Gwen's sad eyes. "Why don't you trust me? How much did she hear?"

"Everything. And I do. Still I have to stunt with her in 20 minutes. It has to hit. Drama pollutes everything. We both need to focus." She hugged him, hanging her head over his shoulder. "Even with all this talk, I can still focus with you. What is wrong with right here?"

"I believe your sister's gift spoke for itself. I just wish she had the chance to tell you." His eyes sparkled even as he frowned.

"So do I." She pivoted, staring at herself in the mirror. Snapping a pic for Twitter® she flashed the v sign to the mirror, then kissed his forehead. "Come watch. Then you need to check in. Otherwise, Jeremy will throw a fit."

"Always." He got up and followed her out of the room into the warm Florida air. Gazing out at the faux basketball court and the massive megaphones hiding the stairwells, he beheld her in all her cheerleading glory.

"So needless to say, I'm odds and ends. But that's me stumbling away. Slowly learning that life is OK. Say after me. It's no better to be safe than sorry." He grinned, a wicked grin.

"That will be stuck in my head now," she giggled as she walked off.

Amber stood on the faux football field, their hotel room windows looming above her when Aria ran over, moist eyed and grim. "What's wrong?"

"Rick never showed and Tom hates me." Sniffing raggedly, she leaned over and hugged her.

Amber rubbed her back. "I thought you and Tom were a thing. You said yesterday, you had a special night. Why does he hate you now?"

Aria inhaled deeply. "I don't want to talk about it." She pointed to the stage being rapidly built by staff members over at the other end, off to one side. Men and women zip back and forth, carrying speakers and other gear. Techs suddenly running along the second floor hallways, stringing thick black cable behind them. Heavy footfalls echo on the concrete as they pause to attach speakers along the white grid bannister fence.

Amber turned from them, her thick ruby lips still parted. "I knew they were playing for us but I thought it was going to be just one song not a mini-concert."

Aria cracked a wicked grin. "I think I impressed them. They might let me sing one of my own songs."

As she spoke she remained vociferously unaware that a women of similar statue bedecked with auburn odango, Nike® compression shorts and a gold star and paw grace cheer coach shirt sprinted toward her. In her coal eyes, horror held as pursed lips spoke on a IPhone glued to one ear.

"ARIA DARRI!"

"Yes, Coach Grace?" She responded humbly.

"This happens tomorrow so why am I seeing it?" Her freckled café latte arm gestured toward Callie doing basic sound checks. Several security guards stood before the stage glaring at anyone assembling. Another pointed towards them.

"I wanted them too. I asked if they were willing to sing the song during our showcase." She glanced around, realizing that more people were watching the setup than them. So not good. "I didn't expect it would be like this." She flashed a megawatt smile.

Shaking her head while face-palming, Coach Grace sighed. "You have no idea, do you?."

"I figured it would the perfect time. I have a new song. They have the gear. They agreed. It's 'win-win'."

"No it's not," Gwen hissed arms akimbo. "I can't believe you did this. The contract we all signed said they would play live for us during Worlds. That's what they agreed to. They received payment." Calming herself, she breathed out, singing a theme song under her breath. Pasting on a smile, she smoothed her cheer skirt. "This supposed to be about us. Not your future career. And what about Lorelei? You forget suddenly?"

"I remember." Coach Grace said softly, catching Gwen's torturous frown. "Coach Atico reminds me every year about how thankful she is I didn't accept her. They believe she's watching them and helping them win. If they win this year, it's a three-peat. Something no gym has ever done. The girls scribed her name on their shoes again. Even the silver wings on the back of their black, and gold uni half-tops remain. Her name rests inside them in the same white block font as their name."

Gwen inhaled raggedly, forcing a tear stained smile. "I saw."

"On Coupe du Monde, they call them fallen stars." Amber commented, catching Gwen's pained glance.

"This is the last year for their Uni anyway. So they are motivated to honor her," Coach Grace pointed out at the assembling Wolverine Gold squad. Her disappointed gaze locking on Aria, her odango swept forward as she nodded. "Which is why this distraction shows we care about the wrong things. I can solve that. You want to sing, Aria? Sing. Just not as a Grace Wolverine. Choose."

Darkness flickered as Aria's gaze locked into Gwen. "Defiler," she whispered in Assembly, the language they spoke in earlier.

Amber tossed Gwen a towel which she caught while glaring at Aria. "Come with me. I want to see if we can get this back on track. This supposed to be about us."

"No." Coach Grace shifted to block her. "Let it go." Staring at Aria, "Aria needs to decide what she wants; to sing with Callie or a Worlds ring."

Aria blew out a breath and walked toward her stunt group. The guys waved at her sympathetically when she cast a dejected glance. Glancing back up at the stage longingly, she mumbled, "Why can't I have both?"

Looking over everyone who was stretching and kibitzing, Coach Grace walked away herself shouting boisterously. "It's go time, ladies and guys. And can someone find me Emily Balor?"

Gwen began her journey toward her stunt group when Callie waved at her. Amber pointed back towards the stage. "Callie is waving at you."

"Why? She doesn't know me." Jingles tumbled from her lips as she caught Amber's insistent stare.

"Stop singing and look!"

Following the tip off her finger, a short youthful woman, in her tight jeans and motorcycle t-shirt, stood at the microphone holding a picture of her uncle Emmett. Then she pointed toward the stage. Looking at the metallic stage itself she realized beside Callie stood Lucas Kasz; a spindly and coarse in person as he appeared on E! Cropped black hair gelled back and a framed dark seemingly infuriated eyes. He pointed away then shook his head before walking off. Callie shrugged, tapped the picture then pointed down again before walking away.

"What's that all about?" Amber asked as they caught up with rouge vixens Pey and Nicole.

"I'll find out after the showcase."

Amber shrugged. "I hope I can meet her. It's nice to see someone as big as me that successful." Gwen paused, staring up and down at Amber's broad hips and thick wide chest stuffed into her uni. "Never call yourself that. You're muscular."

She snorted, rolled her eyes and smirked. "Of course I am."

Tom stood on the balcony watching alone when Emily walked up. Lanky in her loose half-top and skirt, she slid up, rubbing her back against him. Playfully purred in his ear, a deep, robust voice intoned "Hey, Ems," without looking back.

"Why do care about them? You know they are both self-righteous bitches out for themselves." Her smug smile greeted his almost nose to nose when he turned. "Spoken by the head one, herself. Tell me you don't love them?" He whispered before extracting himself.

With a thick lipped pout, she braced well-manicured hands against razor toned hips. "They're my sisters. I'd do any for them. That doesn't change the truth. Kaylie and my last year must be special. That's not special," she waved at Callie and her band making noises while a crowd of girls and guys, some cheer shirt bedecked while others not, gathered. "That's Aria's transparent self-interest. Why did you even consider hooking with her?"

Tom stepped up to her, resting hands on the sides of her square face, thumbs on her sharp cheekbones. Her frown sat as she stared into his brown pools while hope glimmered into hers. "I share something unique with them. As I do with you. You know me."

"So kiss me," she whispered.

"No. My heart has another home." He rubbed her scruffy pile of tight sandy curls each tipped ruddy before stepping back. "Besides neither of my wishes came through."

Two blinks and she caught herself before tears ruined the sparkly gold eye shadow under jade eyes. "You are as bad as Shooting Stars." She clutched him to her busty form, rubbing his thick coal hair. "Even with them she remained a beacon of joy. They claim she's part of the reason for the streak,"

He chuckled. "It's their work ethic that's why they're on year three of victory. Still Gwen wants this year to be one for her too. It's her first year here. They missed their full bid last year so they didn't go."

"I know." Disgust fell from her lips. "A particular unnamed bitch's floor touch cost just enough points to miss." Emily released him, hearing her name shouted in her own voice. Down below stood a mirror image of her wearing a ruby and cream bow. Sighing, she waved back, nodding. "Your place is with us, you know. I know you paid for her." A quick nod toward Callie matched with distaste said it all.

"You make it sound dirty." Smarmy smile glistened.

"You wish. I do too if you'll get your head out of them."

"Can't. I love Gwen," he glanced over at her stretching with her stunt group.

"She doesn't love you." She said as she pecked him on the cheek. "Next time you do my makeup and hair, put in a Grace bow. I saw what you did." She chuckled running off.

Leaning back onto the cream bannister fence bedecked in multicolored pendants, he sighed. She loves me in her own way. That's why I put a Fallen Stars bow in.

As Wolverine Black finished, Gwen stood up and focused inward. Mind's eye chronometer spoke five minutes before the hour. The ticket remained in flux. Not totally Aria's but no longer the waitress's either. I so hope I was wrong. In siren training they told me it would be like someone driving a salty dagger into your flesh. Memories of salty water and freedom arose, buoyed by the scent of the over chlorinated pool beyond. A cloying, beautiful death trap. One taste of it with my gills and I'm sick for days. Minutes under and I am in Antarctica for sure.

Rubbing her exposed collarbone instinctively, she caught Pey's hand.

Brilliant crimson hair splattered across her deeply tanned face as she spun around. "Gwen? What's wrong?"

"I'm going up to see what Callie wants before we perform." Gwen dropped her hand, and stepped forward before stepping back.

"Can't it wait?" She asked sharply as Nicole and Amber nodded. She glanced over at Coach Grace walking amongst the groups. Noticing Gwen's intensity, she strode over.

"Problem?" Her eyes crossed over everyone but settled on Gwen, still jumpy.

"I think the music was off, Coach. I wanted to talk to them about it." Soft breath exited as she rubbed her collarbone again.

"OK." Coach nodded with a pleased smile. Shock washed over Amber and Pey with Nicole taking a step backwards. Coach sighed. "That look says I'm making a mistake. It also says you don't trust your teammate or me. I've said that if you can't trust me then why are you here?"

"It's just..." Pey stammered.

"What, Peyton? I saw Ms. holding up a picture and pointing toward Gwen. I know you want to win. I want it as much as you do. I know Gwen won't screw it up for us because she wants it more than all of us." Coach Grace stared at Gwen, unconcerned. "Will you?"

Shaking her head, she sprinted toward the stage. Halting just before a thick hewn security guard with flattened head, she caught sight of Callie standing beside the microphone stand. The guys of her band flanked her discussing something with waved hands and rapid tones. One turned to point towards the assembled cheerleaders, saw her and groaned.

"That's my point, right there." He gestured to Gwen, turning back around without so much as a 'hello' or 'Can I help you?' Pursing her lips, she gazed around at all the equipment, people and buildings. "Why can't this be easy?" she whispered to herself. Taking a quick glance behind, before inhaling, she almost missed Callie approach, smiling.

"Hi."

"Hi." Touching the stage to quell waves of nervousness, Gwen smiled. "I...Can I..." Closing her mouth, she stared at the ground, flustered. "Aria asked if she could sing, didn't she?"

Several of the other band members walked to the stage edge upon hearing her name, including Lucas. One spoke to the security guard who moved behind her. "Come on up. We were just discussing this."

The same one, who spoke earlier, tipped his sunglasses down, analyzed her like chuck roast. "I believe she can pull herself up."

Callie and Lucas stared at him, shocked and disgusted. He shrugged, walking towards the back of the stage. "Ignore Miles; he didn't want to be here," she said as Lucas, his short hair fluttering in a brief gust, extended a hand.

"Thanks," she beamed, taking his hand. With the other, she pulled herself up. "Wow, nice view."

"Thanks. What about your teammate?" He asked as Callie stood silently, watching.

"Don't let her. It's my fault that you're here--"

"Really?" Callie remarked. "She paid."

"In cash, no less."

"In cash, given from a good friend of mine." Turning to find him, she noticed Tom sprinting towards her now.

"We humored her. Honestly, we don't have time for any of this. It was supposed to be a rest period before our next fair date." Everyone nodded. "However, things change" Callie chuckled.

"The money was green." Lucas responded with a smirk.

Gwen watched as Tom stopped before the guards, pacing softly. "So how do you know my Uncle?"

Callie laughed as she held out her hand, catching the band in a quick glance. Each walked up and slapped a 20 into her hand, which she quickly stuffed into her pocket. Lucas looked away into the crowd then to Tom.

"He's the reason we accepted the offer to begin with." Lucas said with an aire of boredom. "Seriously, you thought you could just buy our time?"

"Aria did. I just agreed because I like your music." Callie grinned but stopped when Gwen shrugged. "I didn't know my uncle was connected to you."

"He's founder of Siren Song Records. I do A&R for him occasionally. He speaks highly of you." A predatory grin complete with teeth complimented his shining, sandy eyes.

Gwen exhaled, suddenly world weary. Looking out at Tom staring up at them, she took a step toward the edge, halting just beside the microphone.

"Wait." Callie barked, catching a couple of lanyards with badges and bags. "Here. It's the least I can do. One question though--"

Gwen stared at Lucas as he asked the question she expected him to ask. Callie shot him a look yet Gwen shook her head. "No worries, I can solve this," she whispered to herself, her Australian accent thickening. Raising her hands up, she summoned a synth keyboard melody. With closed eyes out poured the .

Empowered, she opened her eyes and gasped. A golden, ornament free skeleton key rested in her hand with an vertical notch welded beside a curved double shafted bit. The ring it connected to affixed itself to her wrist like a bracelet. In the sky in front of her the star and claw logo of Grace cheer dissipated like some many fireflies swept by a breeze. "Tommorrow. I can't deal with what you want now."

Lucas rubbed his eyes like he just awoke, blinking at her. "Table this for tomorrow?"

"No worries." She smiled at him.

Callie looked around confused, rubbing her head. "One question: When did you want the mini concert?"

"Or did you really pay 60 gee just to have us play 'My life would suck without you' live?" Miles quipped from the drum kit.

Wide eyed shock struck her. "Um, 7ish?"

He laughed, shaking his head. Callie grinned. "7 is good. Good luck. I gather your job's as hard as mine."

Exhaling, she looked back at Tom, hand stroking his head. "I think so." A matching key ring hung from his wrist too.

"Boyfriend looks stressed," she quipped.

Gwen flipped off the stage, sticking the landing with an oofph. "Not my boyfriend.

Callie nodded; her look said 'I don't believe you.' "Ok. Good luck."

Gwen pivoted on the balls of her feet, beaming. "Same to you. I don't know if Aria said it but 'Thank you' for taking the time to come back and do this for us. I've always been a fan, yet this means so much more."

Callie grinned brightly tossing her hair back. Digging around in her pocket, she mumbled something, extracted the card and flipped it. It fluttered down landing beside Gwen's dingy, worn Nfinity® evolution shoes.

"Room 3218, come by tonight. We can talk more." She looked over at the bald guy who nodded. Even Miles smiled.

"OK." Pivoting back around, she almost crashed into Tom waiting beside the security guard. Shoving everything into his chest, she sprinted back to her waiting stunt group.

He shrugged at Coach Grace who stared questioningly at him and walked towards the rooms.

After all the hard work, practice and struggle, it took two and one half minutes to showcase Wolverine Gold. Tom watched from the second floor hallway as Gwen and Aria did perfect repeated sequences of arabesques and scorpions amongst other stunts. Kevin halted beside him in the middle, more confused that curious.

"You have no clue what's going on do you?" Tom remarked without taking an eye off the action.

"You do? You're a swimmer."

"See Peyton. Her tumbling pass is roundoff double roundoff backhandspring double front punch roundoff backhandspring stepout whip roundoff backhandspring double punch front roundoff backhandspring double." She finished the series of flips and tumbles as he spoke them.

"Wow. How did you get caught in this?" Incredulity coated his shock.

"I could ask you the same question. Only I know the answer. I seem to remember you spying on Aria and discovering something you shouldn't have."

Kevin turned just as the full out ended, the revved out single verse and chorus version of '' fading to cheers. Horror etched his face. "And that is?"

"She's a mermaid." Laughter fell as he slapped him on the back. Looking around the area as Wolverine Silver moved into position, he faced Kevin, seriousness tightened his gaze. "More correct, she's a member of the Assembly from a regal house. A lady of the coral, I believe she mentioned."

"She's blackmailing you too." He stuttered, leaning against the white mesh railing.

Tom slapped him on the back again, laughing so hard, tears pooled his eyes. "Absolutely not. Although powerful, she can't attack me without hurting Gwen." Breeze jingled the lanyards against each other, reminding Tom he still held them. He handed one to Kevin. "There's a real concert tonight after the showcases, 7 pm. This will let you meet her and the band. Considering Aria stole your opportunity I think this will solve that." A smarmy smile flashed as he walked away.

Hours later, Gwen reclined against all bed pillows, laptop across her lap, IPhone 3 on the bed beside her. Tweets ran along the phone while she uploaded pics of her and Callie singing, being silly and making a mess of her room. Aria sat silently in the one of the room's leather chairs, her phone in her hand staring out the window, scowling. "Why does he hate me?" The key ring on her wrist inversely mirrored Gwen's only in silver.

"Huh?" Gwen glanced over at her reclined form swallowed by the chair.

"Tom. You went to talk to her before the preview showcase. Of course he appears out of nowhere, ready to take the goodies away. I get nahjun again."

A single eyebrow rose. "You paid her, that's not nothing. Plus..." She nodded at the key ring and its silver key inscribed 'Rebel' in assembly.

"I paid her manager; a surly, overbearing old man who looked at me as if I was a salmon filet. Yes, he suggested I go chat with her. I got five minutes once I said I could sing."
Intense gaze chilled Aria. Inhaling, she thumbed the phone, letting Gwen stare. "I didn't sing that."

"And you wonder why you got a rebel key?" Shaking her head softly, she committed on a twitter post, a pleased grin appearing. "I just crested 40,000 followers. Awesome."

Aria's head jerked her direction. "How? I have 5000."

"You are also locked. I'm not. Besides Tom doesn't hate you. He's disgusted with you. You emotionally blackmailed him. I warned you not to do that; that it wouldn't end well."

"How in boiling salt can he use a gate?" She hissed.

Laughter tinkled like wind chimes. "Lorelei. Surely he told you about Walkersville and our meeting on the train?"

"He was 14!" Fury lit her cheeks fiery rouge.

"He looked 18 and had the appropriate fake documents." She shook her head. Another picture appeared on her timeline followed by one from Aria, of Gwen in a golden GAMF3GCU sports bra and practice shorts.

A soft shake of the head followed the retweet of the image. "That won't get you more followers."

"I have others." Gwen running from the showers to her locker, arms over her bust filled her phones' screen as she held it for Gwen to see.

"You wouldn't." She leaned over, reaching for the phone. Aria pulled away, dirty smile planted as she ran towards the bathroom. Gwen bounded after her, tackling her just as she entered the doorway. "Let go! You are not sexting me onto the internet." Aria clutched Gwen's wrist as she twisted around blocking her from gripping the phone. Other arm slipped underneath to free the phone, tossing it up into the air. Tom caught it as he stepped through the open door, amused by the pic.

Gwen extracted herself immediately, snatching the phone and deleting the image. Then she punched him in the shoulder. "That's for looking."

Eyes rolled as he stared at Aria crossed legged on the carpet. "Rick wants you to meet him at room 3075."

Giddy delight splashed across her face as she sprang up and out the door. Seconds later she burst back in, insistent. "Phone!"

"Condom." Gwen said flatly.

Brown eyes connected, a frustrated growl emanating from her as she stormed past to her coral Linea Pelle® Dylan tote. "In here, remember?" She extracted a gold foil square, shoving it back in after Tom raised an eyebrow.
"Don't you dare!" Honeyed words slapped his face as he revealed a smarmy smile. "We are still discussing the incident. You broke your word so you have NO room to judge my actions." She poked him in the chest, shook her head, standing at chest height to him, desperately trying to stare him down.

Instead, he sucked her into himself holding her in a tight hug. Looking down at her sable crown, he rubbed her head, while she squeezed him unsure.

Feeling Gwen's piercing glare, he raised a dark sandy tube minty green at both ends, a small white star embedded red double tailed flag hung from a twisted gold and minty copper chain. Wax covered the ends except the top which also has a red sideways ES seal atop the minty cap. Staring fell to grimacing as she shook her head.

Aria looked up, eyes puddled with tears. "I accept your apology. I still want to know why."

"You already do. She's beside you."

Breaking the embrace with a rough shove, she shook her head as she ran out. Gwen shut the door behind them, collapsing against him.

He mussed her hair a bit, raw pain pushing out a haggard breath. "You two drive me insane at times. Lorelei..."

"Lit the room. I remember. 'You need to quit wearing your heart on your sleeve. It will harden too much.'" She blew out a breath. "Where?" she gestured to the tube.

"I went to see Chelsey. We talked about old times and new. How much has changed. This is the last year for the wing uni. She showed me the new black and gold they are debuting tomorrow. We talked about Lorelei and how much she would have enjoyed the last years. She said Coach Atico has a gift for you. One they didn't want to trust to the mail system, unlike this." He held out the tube, his other hand clenching and releasing.

Stroking her own hair briefly, she took it, inhaling the cap. Small smile bloomed. "It's still wet inside so it's recent."

Chelsey said the man seemed frustrated almost demanding she take it. He approached her after their preview. She said he smelt of sea and pungent fish, so much that he yelled Lorelei's name when she turned from him.

Face palming, she groaned. "Must be a House Oannes banner. Some messengers don't understand that smell works above. He's lucky he wasn't arrested as homeless. I would have never got the message." Swirling the tube, subtle splashing brightened her cheeks. "At least she received it."

"Between that display you put on before your showcase and the fact he told her Lorelei's house name. Said he didn't know her surface name or her uncles. So I explained."

"Rich Grandfather?" Irritation choked her words.

"Bilderberg Grandfather. It amuses me that he insists on being someone else."

Gwen stared, hard shell over her face. "While I don't know him, his choice of name 'Wolfensohn' is normal. You know that."

Deep sigh echoed from him. "I'm not mocking him or your culture, Gwen. What would have me say?"

"Sorry." Staring at the foot long tube, a song bubbled up. Recognizing it, he stepped beside her. Dark sadness draped her face, cloying in its heartache. flowed somber and tragic. Despair and mourning gripped her as rose petals fluttered in the air. Slumping over, she sang the chorus as tears shined as the fell.

The piano and soft guitar that surrounded it faded into silence as she wept softly, collapsing into him. Wrapping his thickly muscled arms around her, he sat on the floor. Muffled sobs cloaked the air as he stared at the blank wall remembering Lorelei's last trip with him.

"If you ever see Chelsey again, tell her I'm sorry. Her or Jessa. I love them and the rest of my team but I'm done." Blinking away tears, she sat in her car waiting for the ferry to take them to NYC. She hugged herself, the crisp white Coupe du Monde jacket crinkling as she squeezed.

"Why didn't you tell them?" Words soaking in confusion and angst tumbled out as he flexed his left hand.

Horror reflected in her eyes. "What? That I'll die tomorrow from the Titans Football coach's murderous rampage? I'm a politico, Tom, just like Gwen's a siren. I can see the future. I'm supposed to fix it. Yet every scenario leads to my cold body slumped on the tile leaking blood from either a chest or forehead wound. I'm not. I'm not stopping him. I won't let Coach Sylvan die though. She did too much for me." Rusty tan strands of hair fluttered before her face as she stepped out.

"I--"

"NO!" Her tinkling shout stiffened him. Softening her jade gaze, she flashed a half smile. "Your place is with Gwen. I saw you bonding with her. I saw her coronation ceremony and the Sword himself addressing you as Lord Istan."

Placing a well-manicured hand bearing a single NCA ring in his, she pointed with the other at the ferry. "Promise me. No matter what, you will always be with Gwen. Never let her go. Promise?"

"I promise." He said, repeating it several times as Gwen continued to sob.

"You need to get some sleep; otherwise I'll have to mask bags as well as puffiness."

A slap of his chest as she looked and beheld his half grin. "Why her?"

"I ask myself that question. On another topic, I saw you talking with Callie before you too broke out into song together."

"They won't use it. I think she might find her an agent. She wants to find me one too. Kasz wants me to sign. I don't have time for that. I have one transfiguration left. I have to use it for this." Shaking the tube, she rolled to the floor, looking up at him, morose. "Honestly, why did you reject her? It would have got you all the way in. Not half way with me."

He shook his head, staring down at her, honey pony splayed out. "You're so tan, you bleed into the carpet." He laughed yet she blinked, frowning.

"Please?"

"I told you. She isn't you. She was trouble when she walked in."

Suddenly, that song burst forth. Leaning back, he watched her sing it prone, seeing the ghostly video swarm her, hearing the synth and autotune. Guitar and other elements washed over until she finished. Her playing guitar always amused him. He reached up to touch the hard light version of Taylor's guitar and remembered the key ring hanging off his wrist. The key matched hers inscribed royal. Shaking his head, he unhooked it and slipped into his pocket.

Blinking, she pushed herself upright. He drew himself up, observing the elements of the room.

"That wasn't meant for you. I can't help it if a Taylor song about a bad boy came out." She went for his hand but he slid away.

"Why won't you be honest with yourself?" His deep savage tone echoed as he looked away. "You want the truth? I rejected her because I don't want anyone but you. We both know this." He sunk down on Aria's bed to avoid all the electronics still chirping on Gwen's.

Sitting beside her gear, she held up her phone and tweeted a picture. 'My best friend, confidant and occasional cry pillow.' Showing the image of him skulking, she sighed. "You are my best friend. Everyone attacks me about having a male bestie. That's how I got into this with Aria. Please don't make this more difficult than it is." Sadness clutched her wan smile as she turned back to her social media array.

"Are you going to open the message? It's why I sent her out to begin with." He lounged, watching her type.

Facing him, she shrugged. "I should. I'm just drained. You'll never know how much songs take from me. At least 'Hope is Rising' never charted." She motioned toward the untouched tan plastic Ice tub and plastic cups.

He tossed her one of them and the tray. "I'll get some ice and we can celebrate. It's never bad news."

After the door shut behind him, a heavy sigh fell from her. "Not true." Breaking the seal and pulling the cap off, she poured the clear water into the cup. Inhaling the fragrance of salt and minerals, she dumped the sapphire coated lotus scroll onto the tray. The scroll bore the royal seal as well as flag embossed into a second seal. Nice, it's a royal summons from the King himself.

Falling back onto the pillows, she grabbed another, screaming into it.

"Reags?! General Mills still sponsoring 'Lucky Charms Large Coed Marbits'?"

She tapped her chest, the matching logo splayed across in the same colors as the box. "Yes, we made it again. You're small coed this year."

"Wolverine Gold is. Black is large. It's been a tough year. They pulled through when it counted." Suave smile reflected in the machines shine. "Are you..." He glanced around the fluorescent light area. Nothing but snack machines.

She looked up at the ceiling video cameras and around herself as well. Wiping the left side of her neck, she nodded once. "Can't be too cautious."

Tom's brow furrowed. "Aria said that about Bauer and all the red shield controlled."

She chuckled as she reached for the Sprite®. "I am still of the Assembly. We still control that family. Being in Golden Valley changes nothing."

"Good to hear," he said his jovial delight diminished. "Aria stole a 'golden ticket'."

The unopened bottle thunked on the ground. "Oh my God. She's a regenerist like me. Why?"

He grimaced. "Why else? She wants to be an surface musician and work on Broadway. She's always denied her true gifts."

Delight lit her soft brown eyes accompanying a petite smile. "For a surface boy, you sound like us too much."

"Blame Lorelei," he quipped, then immediately frowned.

She nodded. "Lorelei was the best. Dad was shocked when I agreed to move without complaint. That's why they exist." She tapped her chest. "He felt guilty I gave up Shooting Stars without a peep. He doesn't know the real reason." She held her ring bedecked hand. "Is Gwen Ok?"

Tom fidgeted with his badge, staring at the coaching staff label on it. "No." His gaze caught trees in the distance, the sound of birds echoing as the sun set. "She is making it worse. Can you help?"

"Yes. Did you know there is a pond just beyond those trees you are staring at. I think it's time we went swimming." Her hand rested on his meaty shoulder.

Tom shook his head, still downcast. "She can't transfigure anymore and has a summons. That's how sick she's gotten." He rested his own on top briefly. "She's telling no one."

"Why didn't you say so? That is the ONLY thing more important than getting ring number two."

He drew her tall, willowy from into him, her broad shoulders and small bust bumping him in the same area. She squeezed back, chuckling, "Kinda hard when I'm as tall as you, eh?"

"Emily and Kaylie are as tall as me." He flashed that suave smile.

"She's vicious online."

Tom cocked an eyebrow. "She likes you and Gwen right now. Give her reason not to."

He gestured towards the correct walkway, and sprinted. She scooped up the Sprite® and followed. Pausing outside just short of the door, he noticed the group of people frozen along the bannisters, listening. Eyes glazed over, the cluster of girls from various squads stood peaceably weaving. The final chorus of faded as they approached.

"Sleep well everyone. Dream dreams of victory. Love your friends and team. Don't complain regardless of where you place. Snap to your queen, Gwen. Tweet her adoration and hope. Say to Aria, 'Well, bless your heart' when she talks to you." He wiped the forming tears from his eyes as he hard gulped.

Reagan punched him in the shoulder. "And these are the times I'm glad you aren't. There are twelve people here you just hammered commands into."

Tom shrugged. "Gwen's upset. You rather I cheat them out of their work or worse?" He raised an eyebrow, a suggestive smile creasing his lips.

"You ARE such a guy sometimes." Shaking her head, she mumbled. "Now people are going to wonder what all the snapping is about."

Opening the door, He noticed her exhausted, wan visage wearing a hard light forest green hooded coat, hood crushed tight to her head. The woodland forest complete with dead oak leaves exploded into flashing pixels dying in the semi-darkness. Crumpling, she fell into his waiting arms.

"What's with that song?" Reagan asked rushing over, yet not touching her.

"It's her 'under stress song'. Stroking Gwen's face gently, he whispered. "I'm here. I am at your side, forever and always." His tears dripped freely, greedily absorbed by the coat. A black fingerless gloved hand rested on his shoulder as she stared mute. Her gaze sat empty, her eyes colorless.

Reagan stood still, just short of her reach. Stepping around her he whispered, "I'm getting her to the bed. I need your help."

"You know any assembly member can be pulled into the song itself if they touch a siren. It's an intimate thing she is doing."

"I know." Mumbling a prayer, he gently released on to the bed and collapsed beside her. His morose gaze rested on her still standing there akimbo. "She's not singing anymore."

"And that is why I swear you ARE one of us."

Reagan shuffled over to her, exhaled and checked her pulse.

"Nice to see you too, Reagan." Gwen bit off, waving her hands away.

"Tom's worried about you."

"Tom's always worried about me." She flashed a furious gaze at him as he stroked her arm. "So did you get one too or am I the lucky winner?"

Reagan furrowed her brow before catching salty tangy sea foam perfume in the air. Glancing around she caught sight of the rolled up lotus paper still sealed with dual seals. The sea still sat in the glass. "At least it smells of home in here."

Tears swept across Gwen's face. Tom pulled himself up, letting her lean on him. "Why do you think I asked her here?"

Puffy hazel eyes connected with concerned brown. "Can you at least get me another transfiguration?"

"How about I fix that?" She grinned, resting her hands on Gwen's shoulders.

"I owe you, Reagan Dawn." Tom smiled, hope shining out.

"I aim to collect soon. You are helping me teach the girls that new stunt at the end since we lost the old one. You think I didn't notice the word staff on your badge." Tinkling laughter fell as a golden glow surrounded Gwen making her visage blurry. "Can you even base?"

"Yes. I can actually do a standing full myself. Do I base? No. I swim. My friends think it's too feminine to be cheerleader of any type. So it doesn't come up."

More laughter. "Very political answer."

"Ok, flyer girl. I believe the Milkhouse opens at six for athletes and staff. You're on. Anything you want." He watched as Gwen gained a peaceful, soft expression.

"Anything? OK. You are so on."

"Be careful what you ask for." Gwen mumbled. "He really can base."

Reagan snorted. "Of course he can. I want to see it."

Tom rolled his eyes. "We are swimming tonight, right. Since there is a pond behind the hotel?"

"Absolutely." She stared at him, challenging.

Gwen grunted. "I want to."

"You will." She still stared at Tom, amusement on her lips. "First we eat. I know an awesome restaurant here but it's in Epcot so we will have to get over there."

"How?" Gwen asked, relaxed and calm. "We don't have cars and no one will take us."

Tom laughed, remembering something. "I think I solved our problem." Reaching over for the room phone, he dialed Callie's room number. A male voice answered. "Tell her I'll do what she asked if one of you can get us to the..." He stared at Reagan waiting.

"Coral Reef restaurant in Epcot."

Gwen's groan could be heard as he agreed. "It's done. We leave in fifteen minutes."

"What did you agree too?" Reagan asked, her curious eyes watching Gwen chuckling as Tom fidgeted.

"I do Gwen's cheer poof when I can. So Callie asked if I could do one for her. I turned her down originally."

She laughed, fist on her lips. "Wow. Can you do me next?"

"No." He shook his head. Locking eyes with Gwen he whispered, "The things I do for you."

Setting at the table an hour later, Gwen picked at the remaints of the seared crab cakes. A cobalt plate which once held grilled mahi-mahi, hearts of palm, large shrimp and jasmine rice set empty. Water in a light cobalt glass remained. Fresh water, filled with ice. Grimacing, she glanced around disbelieving it could be so wrong. Tans and azure everywhere in garish combinations. The tank beside her held what to the surface people is coral. Yet she knew better. Dead husks; the shells they actually lived in. Coral is a tiny animal, symbiotic with the Assembly, cleansing the water. They direct the plankton to us and the dolphins.

"Gwen, smile. Yes, it's barbarous. However, they are the only ones to sell seafood and do it well." Reagan grinned sympathetically. She waved her hand around. "I don't even have this."

"I feel for you," Tom remarked, squeezing her hand.

"You are not getting out of your promise." She turned back to Gwen. "So who is 'warren of the north'? I can't get any good information. My Dad refuses to admit anything about the Assembly and Mom just tsks me saying that if the Apzu need us they will call."

"Nothing has changed." Gwen smiled a plastic smile. Tom elbowed her receiving a death stare in thanks.

"Lee Natal, who is still Sword according to Aria," Tom remarked. Gwen's wide eyes shock connected with him. "How?"

"I pay attention to what is around me. I don't let it overwhelm me." She responded to his goad with an ice cube to his chest. "And I don't?"

That suave smile appeared. "You've been staring at this place disgusted ever since you sat down. If you thought you could get away with it, you'd trance everyone into doing it right" He gestured to the tank. "This, by the way, is impossible. Real coral don't live in tanks." With playfulness shining in his eyes, his hand on hers. "So, Ms. Breton whose 'warren of the south'? Hmmm?" The grin turned smarmy, glancing back to either of them. The waiter walked up, placing the check on the table. Tom waved him back having two hundreds attached to the bill now. "Keep the change and thanks."

The waiters eyes lit up, nodding as he backed away and vanished. Silent emptiness surrounded them as night took hold. Gwen sighed and rose. "My grandfather is, not that he would discuss it with me. My mother is exiled for not marrying who he wanted so she lies to my dad about her wealth and him. Tom has gotten away with a lot because of this. It's how he got here."

Reagan's eyes lit at this. "Really?"

"No. I got here because Coach Grace let me do my conditioning with you." He waved a hand, disgruntled. "I paid my own way here. I had to accept being an alternate just to get a badge." He flipped over his badge to show another that says Athlete instead of staff. "Just because I don't wear a uniform doesn't mean I can't be you." He caught Gwen's gaze, diving home the seriousness of it.

"You can go full out? Our whole routine flawlessly?" Incredulousness in Gwen's voice almost masked Reagan's coughing from laughing so hard.

"Oh yee of little faith. Aria convinced herself I'm it so she trained me. I spent extra hours the last month learning everything so she could feel good about herself. So yes, I know your routine."

Gwen shook her head. "I know Aria. I don't believe you."

"No you don't." He glanced at Reagan gulping down salted water, tears streaking her cheeks. "You want to be involved. Lord Shah Apzu is 'warren of the east'. Talk to him."

Reagan furrowed her brows briefly, suddenly distant. Then she smiled sharply. "I will."

Gwen shook her head, stunned. "We are so doing this tomorrow."

He rose, tossing a crumpled napkin down. "No, Gwendolyn, we are doing this as soon as we get back."

Furrowed brows locked with his. "Challenge accepted."

Thirty minutes later, two things happened. Gwen group texted Gold to help. Almost everyone responded. Most agreed that Tom had been there. So the entire squad was out there again. All save Aria. That led to the second thing; audience. Others who were bored came to watch. Gwen held a smug face as she told her stunt group she wanted Tom to be her base. Amber nodded, moving to Aria's stunt group. This allowed Amanda, a back spot, her chance to fly.

Pey looked around then whispered to Tom as she got into position. "You have nothing to prove."

Tom shook his head. Looking past Gwen's crouched form, her feet in his hands, he replied. "I do to her."

"You drop me and I will hurt you after I wake up." She stared straight at him.

"Never."

Perfection could not describe how everything flowed as the recorded music began. Reagan stood in awe with her teammates on the sidelines. "Coaches say train not to until you get it right but until you can't get it wrong." Her fellow blond compatriot in similar attire nodded.

For Tom everything slowed down just like in swimming. Only this time it was a sequence of executed maneuvers, some dance and some strength, that executed impeccably. Just like a swim meet, he made himself win. Yet every time he lifted and held Gwen, he remembered another thing Lorelei said.

"I had an odd vision yesterday that involves you. Do you like Cheerleading?" He followed her out to the pier, waiting for the ferry to dock.

"Of course. I hang out with you all the time." He grinned.

"No. I mean involved in 'like'. I saw you at worlds basing for Gwen. Yet you aren't even enrolled with Grace Cheer. You're a swimmer." Her lips drew in as she registered the blank face Tom held.

"Maybe there's a reason." Words of comfort failed as she grabbed her ticket to get on-board. Ocean scents, salt and breeze whipped her hair causing her to tug her stark white jacket, with massive C left of the zipper and M on the right. "I want to believe it's a false vision so I don't die tomorrow."

"You won't. I know it." He said confidently.

"Thanks, but faith doesn't change truth."

"In that you are wrong, Lorelei. It very much can."

Motion halted as guitar faded to crickets and frogs. All the squad hugged, slapped hands and rears, pleased. Voices commented about practicing outside at worlds.

"'One more full out is always better.'

'What else were we doing?'

'Isn't Gwen amazing, suggesting this?'

'I was wondering when we would practice. Everyone else did.'

'I don't want this to ever end.'"

Yet Gwen stood motionless. Spectacle swirled around. Hugs and congratulations flowed. Reciprocation became automatic. Yet her gaze fixed on Tom. How could I be so wrong? He spent weeks with Aria learning all this, not because he had to. He did it, not for Aria but for me. I figured he wanted me as friend with benefits. That wouldn't happen because I won't share that. It's for one person. Love? Maybe he is telling the truth. He brings me my medicine, he's always there and now this? I'll deal with Winston when we get back.

Inhaling his sweet musky scent, she fiercely ran for him, diving onto his chest. "I was wrong." Ignoring Reagan's mumbling comment, she leaned on his shoulder, basking in his scent and warmth. Feeling his shrug, she looked over. Reagan laughing.

I'll show her. Deep breaths filled with sweet, ragged air. Cold as a freezer yet so inviting. Wrapping her arms tighter around his neck, she squeezed him as much as she could without cutting off air supply. He hugged her back, his firm, hard body pressed against her, arms across her lower back.

"I never realized how much fun basing was. Deceptively addictive." He glanced to Reagan. "You lied to me."

"I did no such thing. You never believed me. We are all obsessed with it. Why do you think we are here, pursuing this?" She held up her hand, her world championship ring sparkling in the resort's halogen lights.

Turning back to Gwen still giddy, "Believe me now?"

"Yes. Here's proof." Suddenly her lips meet his, melting away any response into dandelions caught in a breeze. He tasted of peppermint and crab and mocha Frappuccino. He tasted better than Winston or any other guy. He tasted like victory. One of his hands cupped her jaw as he sucked air through his noise. Shocked gasps flickered around them. Finally, gasping for air, she broke away and hopped down.

He stared at her, electricity in his gaze. "Unexpected."

Reagan and Amber stood still shocked. "I'll say. What's Aria make of it?"

"We aren't dating. Besides she probably got a couple of holes filled at the moment anyway." Amber's mouth dropped open again. Reagan sighed, a disgusted look crossing her face until she saw Gwen kick his leg. Laughing, she shook her head. "You know how to break a mood."

"What? She took condoms to Rick's room." Amber shook her head, now disgusted as Reagan stood stunned. "Which one?"

Gwen's sharp gaze silenced him. "Rick Sutter of Tsunami."

"He's a--" Amber walked off, shaking her head.

Gwen elbowed him, staring at Reagan, frowning. "How about you show us where that pond is?"

"Okay." She shrugged staring at Tom. He flashed a dirty grin before it washed away realizing something. "How about you get bikinis first?"

"Meet you at the Coke machine in 5," she replied running off.

Beholding Gwen, he wiped his forehead while still tasting her lipstick. "You Ok? You were shivering earlier."

"I'm fine. I was wrong but I don't want to talk about it here. Let's just go swim." Sprinting off toward the room, she saw him behind her then vanish. Shrugging, she continued on, still all smiles.

At the coke machine, Reagan paced, worried. Small, orange, triangle top dotted with red felt scratchy while her bottoms kept riding up. "Why do I bother with swimwear?"

"Because swimming naked attracts attention," Gwen commented frowning. "I figured he'd be here."

"I am." Tom stepped around the corner. Pausing, he whistled at Reagan's suit. "Nice."

"Please. It's an ugly, loud orange that doesn't want to stay put." Tugging the bottom over her buttocks, she groaned.

His warm gaze slid up and down Gwen as she pirouetted in an diaphanous salmon-colored wraparound elastane top connected to a golden collar inscribed with a mixture of sideways ES and house symbols. Slight, tight bottoms covered everything yet contrasted with her tan.

"The only reason I know you are wearing anything is your tan. OMG where did you get that?" Reagan wiped her lips. "It's gorg."

"One of a kind. Ayca Sadikoglu made it special because I stumbled into her sister Zeynep in New York while dress shopping weeks ago. I guess I suggested things and...I wanted a unique dress. She asked about the picture I had drawn. So we talked over lunch. She asked about swimsuits. I loved this idea, so I drew it on the back of a tray liner. This arrived last week with thanks. It won't be available for years because they have this years and next year's already set, Turns out they are the designers of OYE®."

Reagan stroked the fabric. "So soft."

Tom's gaze bounced between them silent until he slumped, eyes glazing over. Softly shoving him, Gwen shook her head. "How were you friends with Lorelei? She loved to talk clothes."

"I have no opinions on your swimsuit other than its beautiful. Staggeringly beautiful."

Reagan rolled her eyes at him. "Again, this is why I think you don't know us as well as you think. Fish tail?!" She tapped her thigh, then started walking away, shaking her head and muttering.

Soft, pink nailed hand slid into his. "I think we need to follow her. Otherwise people will think we're going to the death trap." A shiver said everything needed about chlorine pools.

Moving slowing, he whispered. "I'm worried about Aria. She should have been out there."

"I think she got caught up in my trancing Rick. He came back after me without mentioning that he dated a teammate expecting me to be welcoming. You know how I hate that level of disingenuousness." Small frown held as they halted beside a pensive Reagan.

"Closest I'll get to an ocean. I so miss transfiguring in the sea. Just floating in the vastness, azure tides caressing me..." She sighed. "I am not going to sing my modified version of the Firefly song."

Tom exhaled. "It got stuck in my head for a week last time."

Yet Gwen stood, mouthing the words. "How?"

Ignoring vigorous head shaking, she hummed. "Take my love, take my land. Take me where I cannot stand. I don't care, I'm still free. You can't take the sea from me...."

Running down the megaphone stairwell, he stopped just outside the final step. One direction was solid mint wall fitfully lighted. Trees shadowed the other in a thick tangle except right next to the megaphone. Shaking his head, he whistled. Turning around, the ladies stood there, both hands on hips. "I was behind you."

Pecking Gwen on the lips, he nodded. "Of course. Follow me."

"See?" Reagan pointed at him as he vanished. "You wonder why I stay single."

Slipping around rough perforated metal, the pungent scent of swamp water slapped their faces. "A real pond!" Running to the edge, Gwen loosed her bikini bottom ties and dove in head first. Jade water droplets splashed Tom and Reagan, who kept eyeing him, growing deeper crimson by the moment. "I...I can't with you standing there."

"Can't what?"

She glared at him, a sharp hiss escaping her lips. Tapping her thigh again, she sighed. "I'm big down there. You're a guy and..."

"I'll turn around. Strip and transfigure. I won't watch." He stepped into the trees waiting with his back turned. Listening to the rustle of the grass, he looked over his shoulder and grinned.

Orange cloth fell away revealing a rounded, thick yet hairless backside. A burst of rippling, glassy luster flowed around her, creating a translucent sheen. From her waist to her feet, the bronze skin transfigured into matching bronze scales arrayed in a diamond pattern. Her heels vanished within massive down –folded caudal fin. Memories of Lorelei's transfiguration and her chiding him that it was called a fluke because it functioned like that not like a fish's caudal fin. Dual dorsal and adipose fins bearing sharp barbs winked in the ambient light. A mild poison within incapacitates all who attack.

"You going to wait until I jump in?" Reagan pivoted around delicately, grimacing. Her arms made an x over her bust.

"Didn't want to violate your space." Tom held the blank yet appreciative expression.

She glanced down at Gwen, still holding a disapproving stare. Looking back at him, she dropped her arms to her sides. Scaled over spots covered her areolas and nipples. Ornate Tā moko tattoos ran along the sides of her neck from the base of her ears to her gills just beneath her clavicle, the gill cover slightly open.

Walking to her, she stood motionless. "All that flying allows you to do that without falling," suave smile showed no sympathy. "I'm supposed to have a better body image. I'm a member of the Assembly. I'm beautiful."

"You're a teen girl who is unsure like all others. I'm a guy wearing boxers." Her eyes fell to his LSU boxers, snickering at the obvious lump.

"You like me." She grinned.

"I like Gwen more." He said as he dove in, followed by her, whose tail separated into its bifurcated limbs briefly as her muscles relaxed. Gwen shook her head, breathing heavy.

Tom bobbed up beside her, stroking her wet, straw toned hair. "Sorry if I embarrassed you."

"Her fear could offend someone. We all know better. We should at least." She pushed her hair out of his hands, turning to face him. "We can't kiss here."

"Why?" He asked, stroking her arm. Catching her breath, she stared into his eyes. "What did Aria tell you?"

"Something about bonding. Souls linked and us able to feel each other's emotions. I would know that she really does love me." A soft head shake at his speech.

Reagan splashed up, blinking. "I so miss this." Blowing out a breath, she swam around them again. "We need to be careful; part of this is visible from the parking lot."

"It's almost 10pm." He held up his watch bedecked wrist. "Use the personal chrono in my swims."

Gwen leaned against him. "It's true. She didn't tell you it's forever, did she? Doesn't sound like love to me. Sounds like typical Aria, only out for herself. Bless her heart, she could be so much more if she wasn't so needy." Tom chuckled as she said that in her Australian accent.

She sighed. "She's my friend and fellow Assembly sister, yet I hate her sometimes. You're wonderful you know."

"You are ignoring the obvious." He stroked her neck, feeling tense muscles stiffen.

"What's that?"

"If I love her?"

"Do you?" Reagan asked, curious. "Bonding is serious. It's our version of marriage. I wish I had a guy like you. If I did, I wouldn't hesitate. If she really loves you then it would have worked."

Tom beheld her bobbing in the jade water, algae and leaves drifting on the surface. "I don't. Never have. You know she even offered sex."

A rustle in the tree line alerted them. Both ladies dropped immediately below the surface leaving Tom to swim to the edge. Pulling himself out, she saw chestnut hair streaming as a girl ran away clad in a jade bikini.

Aria stood silently as they spoke. The delight of the pond vanishing into a sea of hurt as they tore into her. The last knife, the one embedded in her chest, echoed in her mind. 'I don't. Never have,' Tears flowed as she pounded up the steps back towards Rick's room. Him and the guys were playing poker, and she didn't hear the phone ring or the flurry of texts until it was too late. Everyone seemed furious with her. So I missed a practice? We're here aren't we? We will win! Arriving, she pounded on the door. When it opened, she stumbled in. Rick looked at her, his heart melting. His buddy shut the door.

Gwen surfaced, with Tom nowhere in sight. Shaking her head, a ball of rage and frustration welled up inside. "Why?"

"Why what?" Reagan asked as she burst forth.

"Why can't she leave him alone?"

"You think it was her spying on us?" Curious words as she shifted to face her.

"Yes. Now he's off to make peace. I'm so tired of her getting like this. Dozens of other guys and she steals him."

Reagan's eyes widened then a soft smirk creased her pink lips. "You love him. Really love him. Enough that if you kissed now, you would have bonded."

Gwen closed her eyes, sighing. "Yes. I do love him so much it hurts. I love Winston too. He's a jock and fun surface guy to hang around. He likes me too. He just doesn't want to do the things Tom does. We are all friends. Well, we were until this."

Reagan sighed softly. "Wish, I had that. Most I get is the creepy, old janitor hitting on me. I string him along so I can swim in the pool at night. He's seen too much already. He turned the pool salt water though."

"Does he know?" Gwen asked seriously.

"Don't think so. Although we had close calls."

" Just then, a song flowed out. Reagan leaned back listening. In the distance, several judges stepped out of their cars and froze. Electropop enveloped them locking them as lyrics about falling in love clutched their ears. One judge, who couldn't hear as well, parked out of earshot and walked up around them, confused and bewildered.

Pausing by one, he listened to what sounded like crickets, frogs and halogen buzz. Shrugging, he announced he'd meet them in the conference room when they were done. They never heard anything, so caught up in a monster electropop track with some impressive wailing, a little drum-and-bass-inspired instrumentation on the chorus and a catchy guitar loop.

Gwen sighed as she finished. Reagan clapped. "So..."

"Demi Lovato, 'Heart attack'. Early 2013, February I think." She groaned, shaking her head. "It's true. That why I can't. I don't trust him. What happens if we do and he wants to play with her some more. I have too much pain as it is." Growling, she shouted. "Wolverine Gold wins worlds!"

Reagan chuckled. "Feel better."

"No. I want him but I can't let it show. How bad am I?"

"Bad. Be honest."

She shook her head. "I can't. I need to be held."

Tom shook his head. As he walked around through the open path, he heard Gwen singing . As he approached her, she finished, falling into his arms. "You can't yell like that. People will hear you."

"Don't care." Staring into his eyes, she pecked his nose. Sparks flew and she sighed, cursing softly in Assembly.

"It was Aria. She's furious at me mostly likely." He stroked her hair again, felt her shivering. "Smile for me." He dropped down, bumping nose with her. "I will be OK. You will win. At everything." He pulled her into him, feeling the hardness of her against his soft skin. "You always have me. No matter what."

She nodded. "We need to go. Reagan?"

She groaned, a playful splash sent their way. "I still don't want him to see my down there."

Tom snickered. "I peeked. You're beautiful. Don't ever forget that."

She flushed deeply. "You are as bad as Jim. I swear if he asks to sniff me one more time, I'm cutting his off." Pulling herself out, her normal bronze butt showed. Sprinting to her bottoms, she slipped them on and waved. "Until tomorrow. Good luck."

"You need it more than we will. We have skill." Waving back, she leaned against him again.

"I need you to promise me something."

"What?" Curious eyes peered into her hazel pools, filled with worry.

"You'll perform with us if Aria screws up."

"Yes." Only because I love you. I know one of these days, you will love me too.

Sunny rays drifted through the bay window, lighting the room in drab mud tones. Groaning and mumbling, Gwen rolled into Tom still tangled in her and the covers. Looking at the light, she rubbed her eyes, watching the door open. Aria stood in her gold world's shirt and pink Nike® pro compression shorts, stunned.

"How could you?" She screeched, stopping just short of her bed. "You know how important this is. So you sleep with him last night?"

"I am not dealing with this, Aria. We need to focus. Personal pride later."

Tom pushed off the covers, revealing Gwen's pink lace tap pants. He, however, wore nothing. Grabbing his clothes, he ran into the bathroom.

"Personal pride?" She hissed. "Fine. I am sorry. I am so self-centered. I'm not the one who slept with a guy."

Tom marched out, disgusted. "No you just f**ked him." He shoved his phone in her face. Horror gripped her, tears streaming down her face. Bolting for the bathroom, she slammed the door.

Gwen glared at him. "What did you show her?"

"This." Holding the phone up, Gwen frowned at the image of Aria bookended by guys. "Who sent it?"

"John did. Apparently, rattling her is enough revenge from Rick."

Gwen turned wooden. "Who did he sent it too?"

"Me only. Good thing too." He shook his head as he deleted the image. "I need to get changed and I will be back. I'll even do her hair and makeup, if she'll let me." He pecked her cheek. She pulled him in for a longer kiss, melting into him as her lips pressed against his.

Breaking away, he saw Aria standing in the doorway, wounded and vulnerable. Shying away as he approached, he paused. "I don't hate you."

"You don't love me. You said so."

So that's what you heard. "You knew this. I have always loved Gwen."

"Not until recently. Back off." She folded her arms but hate wasn't there.

"You don't want a hug?"

Hungry eyes devoured him. "I wanted you in that picture. Now go, before I do something we will both regret.

He stepped back. "I'll do your hair and makeup."

She laughed bitterly. "Of course you will. You got what you want."

Gwen stormed over. "We didn't have sex. We fell asleep together."

She shook her head violently. "The way you look at him when he isn't looking says you lied."

Tom sighed, hugged Gwen and left. Gwen sighed. "Aria sometimes, you are utterly clueless about the surface."

"I'm not the one who won't admit I'm in love with a guy while stringing along another." She shook her head.

"Do not bring Winn into this. We are not having this conversation." She hissed, storming into the bathroom. "If you do anything on my account, I will upload that image anonymously to 4Chan."

"You won't dare. I told you never to give the gawkers something to feast on. I will be a Broadway legend."

Gwen stepped out, wiping her face with a towel. "Do you want to win?"

"Of course. Why else would we be here?" a soft snort erupted.

"Then act like it." She scowled as the bathroom door shut.

Coach Grace strolled around the quiet warm up room, pondering the paths before her. Never had it like this anywhere but the Olympics. It was always locker rooms and tiny spaces to warm up. Even when we competed as a team, we were individuals. How blessed they are.

She snorted, as images of the girls and guys rippled by. "Is this the year?" she asked aloud while reviewing the massive blue mat. Bouncing on it once, she paused, sat down the clip board and did a standing full. Blowing out a breath, she pushed her hands back into her gold hoodie streaked with black claw marks. On the back rested the star and claw logo, while on the front right breast, a cursive GC embedded in a star announced its presence.

Silence continued its reign as she took stock of the massive blue spring mat bedecked room, signs at locations for each squad. Towels and water bottle filled coolers at the ready. All that way to Seoul and nothing to show for it. So their dream is my dream, as long as my premiere ladies don't ruin it.

Glancing at the note on the clipboard in official ACCD letterhead, the type reminded her about music rules. 'Clerksone couldn't be seen, only heard. Only the music could be played. One song, two minutes thirty seconds. Shoutouts and taunts allowed.' Shaking her head as she pushed through the doors she sighed. "There will be no next time if this fails."

Tom scowled as he entered Gwen and Aria's hotel room. Aria sat in the makeup chair waiting patiently alone. Throwing the already crumpled piece of paper into a mouse ears bedecked plastic trash can. "Aria, where is she?"

"I'm not her keeper." She batted her eyes at him, rose lips in kissy face.

"You really want me to do this?" He walked past, scoping out the bathroom. Her makeup remained its usual scattered mess. Her backpack sat on the floor and her uni on her bed. "Tell me she's not out swimming."

"She's not out swimming." Smirk betrayed the lie. "I don't control her."

Tom stared, irritated. Dropping to the bed, he waited, arms at his side. "You didn't answer the first question."

"You didn't ask. You offered." A scowl crossed her lips, diminishing the sparkle in her eyes.

"And so I did. Your response: 'You got what you want.' One time offer. Take it now." He glanced toward the door when it creaked.

"Yes!" She groaned, still trying to be delighted. "I want you to do it all."

Tom rolled his eyes as he searched for Gwen's makeup case. Aria growled, rose and storming over to her own backpack, tugged out her own.

"Seriously, Tom?!" She shoved it into him. The bag contained various small bottles of M•A•C® products from paint pots to glitter. Lip palette also came out along with concealers, foundation and a plethora of brushes. He rolled his eyes.

"What?" She glanced over at his arrayment as she brushed her hair. He looked up and snatched the brush from her. "If I'm doing it; I'm doing it. Trust me."

Long sigh. "That's the problem. You left me behind. So why should I? I promised Granddad. Even showed him pictures of you. Do you know how embarrassed I was?" She settled back into the chair.

Sighing rumbled from Tom as he rotated her to face the mirror. "You never answered my question. Where is Gwen?"

"With Reagan, of course. I doubt they are stupid enough to swim now but who knows." She glared at him. "Quit dodging."

Teasing her long chocolaty strands, he held her gaze. "You don't listen." Biting his tongue, he lessened his tone. "You never told me it would be forever."

Sad smile curled her lips as tears pooled beneath luminous sable eyes. "You never gave me the chance. How many hours did we spend together? You could have told me. You didn't have to be so boiling cuddly and then just abandon me in the pool." Raking her face, a ragged sniff shifted the clump of hair in his hands."

Blowing out a breath, furious hair teasing filled silent minutes. "I love Gwen more."

"I offered that too." She sighed heavily, shaking the just finished but unsprayed poof. Grabbing her can of Paul Mitchell® he doused her head with mist.

"We did nothing other than fall asleep."

"You were naked. Those bikini bottoms could have been moved among other things. I'm not stupid. I see the longing in her face." She sucked in a ragged breath. "I know you love her. I hate you for it." Chewing on her lip, Tom rotated the chair to stare at her.

Hands on her shoulders, he rested his nose on hers. "I don't. You are luminous right now, especially the soft glow of olive that shines on you. I can't have you. I can't love your both. I choose her. That means no more plus games." Running a finger behind her ear, she shivered at his touch, shifting in her chair. Lacy mint lingerie held a cloying scent of sea salt, strawberries and lotus.

"Then why are we touching noses? And why do I smell her on you still?"

He stroked her obliques with fingertips, listening to her breathe heavy. "Why do you want to bond with me so much?"

"I need you." She brushed her lips against his nose, sliding down to press his lips. Pulling away, he felt the heat of arousal on her. "No you don't. You want me. Say it."

"Fine." She remarked breathy. "I want you. Now."

Pulling completely away, he smirked. "I know. That's why I left you there. You will give yourself to anyone who touches your buttons."

Fierceness clouded her eyes as she bolted up. Shoving him once, she folded her arms under her heaving bust. "I'm a slut? That's it? It makes you a manwhore; considering the amount of ladies you've worked through?!"

He shook his head. "Other than you, who else have I been with this last year? No one! It's been you and tending to Gwen. That disease she has is getting worse. Instead of healing her, we kept---" He blew out a breath, shaking his head. "There's a purity about her; a joy I see seeping out beneath the pain. So no, I don't need sex. Being around her is enough. Thanks for all you did. It worked yesterday."

Looking away from him, she stormed to the seat, spinning herself to face the mirror. "Finish!"

"Pick your bow." He held a suave smile.

"Gold black trim" She bit the words. "I love you, you stupid fool. That's why I wanted to bond. I know what it means. We could have so much fun together. She doesn't love you. I do and I was honest. I never transfigured once to trap you. I could have."

He patted her shoulders in lieu of her bowed head. "Thank you. I know she loves me. We will get our chance."

Rolling her eyes, she went silent for the remainder of the makeup application. Once the golden glitter dusting finished, she rose, pointing at the door. He turned to see Gwen walk in, glistening. Her pink 'IFly' sports bra and Nike Pro® compression shorts clung tightly yet betrayed nothing. She smiled peacefully. "I never expected that."

Aria stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door. Reagan in full uni paused behind Gwen. She shook her head. "She always that petulant?"

Tom shook his head. "We had our talk."

Gwen's gaze fell towards the glass of water with scroll in it. Reagan followed her gaze, marveling. "Why haven't you opened your summons?"

She gestured silently towards the door. Yet Reagan already held the sapphire coated lotus scroll, sniffing it as if it's a cigar. "Wow, that's what the royal seal looks like."

Gwen groaned, extracting it back to its glass. "That's why. I can't deal with it now and be focused. If you break that seal, I have to tend to it within 48 hours. Without me we all lose."

Horror etched on Reagan's face. "That's why Dad keeps a standing ticket to LaGuardia."

Tom snorted, amused. "You need to hang out with us more. I know more than you."

She punched his shoulder playfully. "You're right. Dad won't allow it. The other reason Lucky Charms exist."

Pulling a folded note from her waistband, Gwen smoothed it out on her abs. "We failed. They won't allow it."

"What?" Ruffled, upset and embarrassed held her face in a dark stare. Pushing the paper towards him without looking, she walked to the bathroom door. "I need to take a shower!"

Scanning the document with its crisp ACCD/ICDF letterhead, he blew off a pent up breath. "So Callie singing live is a distraction and they won't allow her to set up anywhere?"

"Yes. Stupid dingo almost put me off the boil." She growled. Tom cocked his head toward Reagan who stared dumbfounded.

"I never heard your accent before. It's cute."

"Australian, McKay, Queensland if I am correct," Tom replied as Gwen rubbed her forehead. Her fists smashed into the cheap wooden door, creaking under the blows and shaking violently.

Aria opened it, sighing. "Really?!"

Marching out, she glared at Tom while pulling out her uni. "This is all your fault." She dressed in front of him, deliberately advertising herself. "Our music set kicked ass this year. You convinced everyone doing it live would change the game."

He shook his head. "I seem to remember a brunette vixen who did that."

Perusing the letter again, a cunning smile appeared. Their physical presence is a problem? "We will find them a new place to play."

Bathroom door flung open with Gwen, wrapped in a mickey bedecked towel tied quickly around her chest, scowling. "Tried it. Tried everything short of them playing in the Milkhouse lobby. They don't want it and swore they weren't notified."

Catching the time on his watch, he also caught her frustrated disappointment. "It will work out. Did you talk to Kevin?"

She nodded. "He's been talking with the techs since the letter was given to them, Coach Grace and him."

Shaking his head, Tom covered his face, listening to the silence. A small prayer whispered out when Aria and Reagan said something at the same time. Aria glared at Reagan who actually glared back.

"What about the Hess Gazebo or the soccer fields," Aria asked sliding on her skirt over her peach thong.

Gwen shook her head, glancing askance. "They need power and hook ups inside. All those buildings and not one is connected to each other." She struck the door again. "I got fifteen minutes before the rest pack up to go to the next place." Hopelessness etched her face.

"Why isn't the baseball field next door connected?" Curiosity bubbled from Reagan as she noticed the time. She sighed, "I have to meet my squad now otherwise they'll wonder what happened. I guess I'll find out soon enough."

Aria glared at her as she walked out, shutting the door with a click. "What the boiling hell?"

Tom, texting to Kevin on his phone, glanced over at her. "Relax, she's concerned too."

"Like it's any of her deal." She chunked a pillow his way. Ducking, it tagged Gwen in the leg as she stared at the doorway. "She won't go down with it. We will."

Gwen threw the pillow back on the bed, singing a jingle to herself.

Tom shook his head, a disbelieving smile blooming as he repeated the words on his screen.

"Kevin convinced Reed to contact park administration. He did and they will let Callie play. They were unaware that they stayed on and seem to be pleased. Because she's still here, they acknowledged she still has a right to a venue. ACCD has no right to interfere. They are simply a renter like Callie is."

Gwen stared at him, wide eyed; her jingle broken midway. Aria ran over, hugging him tightly. Tom extracted himself, leaning against the room dresser. "So what venue? Are they going to force ACCD to allow her to play? They could disqualify us."

"No. He said Reed received a list of open venues. One of them is Champions Field. The Braves are done with it for the season and they have it linked to the Milkhouse for non-specified reasons."

"Any idea?" Gwen looked at Tom concerned yet curious.

He shrugged. "Kevin said it's a name change for the complex and park. That's what Reed learned."

"SO?" Aria remarked, hands on hips.

He displayed his suave smile. Staring at Aria, it grew brighter. "You owe him big time. He came through."

Gwen walked over, her hands gripping his forearms. "I swear I will sing Evanescence, GPKISM or Paramore if you don't explain."

He smirked. "They will be ready when you are. When you walk onto the blue mat, they will know because Kevin will have a camera pointed there. All sound will transfer automatically for the required time then switch back. After which there will be another jam session because they don't know if anyone will figure out they are there."

She squeed, jumping on him. "You are amazing."

He held her, inhaling sweet scent of sea and lavender floating off her. "I did nothing but offer Reagan's suggestion. I don't know this place. You do."

Aria coughed. Tom looked over at her as Gwen jumped down but still held his hand. "I know you do too."

"Thanks." She rolled her eyes again, trying to catch her breath. "We aren't done."

"We aren't?" He shook his head. To Gwen, "Hurry. I need time to do your hair and makeup."

She brushed her lips with his for a few seconds. "I can't be stinky."

"I know."

Another series of coughs as Gwen closed the bathroom door. "We aren't done."

"Yes we are, Aria. I want you as a friend. Not with benefits, just friend."

"I see," she caught her breath, her voice cracking. Tears pooled her eyes as she turned away.

"What happened?"

Grabbing a blotter, he ran up to her and starting drying her eyes. A wan smile curled her lips. "You are impossible sometimes, princess. Still you made a choice. So did I. Why can't you be happy about that?"

Frustrated groan as a shove thrust him back. "Was it wrong to want you beside me as I am crowded queen? You would be my consort." Inhaling gulps of hair, her chestnut eyes took a soft glow. "Please?"

Grabbing the empty ice bucket, he turned back at the door. "Tell her I'll be back in five." As the door shut, he could hear items hit.

4:

"It's fine, Mr. Blackrock. I don't feel I'm qualified to make the decision." She looked at him in his navy blue suit coat and slacks. Open collar white dress shirt sans tie was his old compromise to the morning sun.

"They are playing for you. While I do have suggestions, it depends on what you want everyone to hear. ESPN won't carry your performance so I'm not concerned. They told me privately that they will focus on Cali All-stars, Coupe du Monde and Cheer Athletics." An uneasy smile shined briefly.

Heavy sigh fell from her, odango braids slithering like aggravated snakes. "What would produce the best sound?"

"Out here." He gestured politely with a determined air.

Spinning back around, the entirely of the small 9500 seat field came into view. Nothing but open air, dirt diamond and grass until you hit the teal back wall. She shifted again, avoiding the large painted Brave's 'A' on the grass. "Will this affect what you have planned?" Old Spanish architecture evoking St. Augustine consumed her view. Its bright yellow adobe shining in the sunlight.

"Nothing is planned. If we were in Tucson, today would still be a practice day" He looked down, consumed in thought. "The practice venue changed, that's all. Anyway, she paid; she and your squad are invited. She's a nice girl. Typical teenager." He rubbed his chestnut beard, his eyes calm.

"Here's fine then." She exhaled. "I hope this works."

"It will. They've been in worse locations. At least Disney is setting up Champions club for us." He handed her three key cards. "One for you, One for Gwen and her guy friend and one for the guy with the metal leg."

Pursing her lips, she wrinkled her nose. "Kevin will be excited."

Another bright smile. "He's got an excellent future ahead of him. Most would have given up when they lost a leg like that. He didn't." Reed looked off in the distance. "Aside, I know what it's like to work for years to get somewhere and come back empty handed." Out of one of his coat pockets came out a wrinkled white ticket with a multicolored pastel band along the edges. In left center stood the Seoul Olympic games symbol; a spiral. Korean ideograms ran beneath and to the side. The side ideograms carried 'Olympics Gymnastics Arena." He slid the laminated ticket back in his pocket quickly. "I needed a vacation that year. You should have won the bronze."

Misty eyed, Coach Grace rubbed her ruddy lips. "My lanyard rests in that case." She suddenly grinned. "You're married to Reba! I love her music."

"Guilty as charged. Anyway, if you need more help just let me know."

She nodded. "It's going to be an excellent day."

"Indeed. Best of luck."

Yellow walls in the warm-up room beckoned as Gwen stretched, trying to remain calm. Tom stretched besides her wearing the men's uniform. Iconic four claw tip ran along the sides delicately constructed from black and yellow mystique against a black mesh backdrop in amongst paw prints. Against the gold front and back panels, center waist logo slash faux belt buckle stood out as the clear Swarovski elements that composed it winked in the light.

A full top with golden mesh underlay weaved into the sleeves sublimating into onyx at the cuffs. The Steel Mystique claw on the back wrapped around to the front of the cheer top terminating in a Gold Mystique star with onyx bear paw overlaid. However the Swarovski elements remained subdued as well as the GC logo.

Tugging the top again, he sighed. "I don't belong here."

"You worked as hard as we did. Harder still as you continued your swim practices and meets. You are a part of us as much as anyone else." Catching his forlorn gaze, a soft smile radiated.

"Thanks. How are you holding up?" He asked loudly as the burgeoning sounds coalesced around them.

"Fine." Shivering stiffened her arm briefly causing a soft curse.

"You didn't take your shot, did you?" Alarm rippled in his voice. "You need to now. I brought it with me just in case."

Shock blossomed. "Why?"

"I'm not basing Aria so it's you or nothing." Suave smile sparkled in the fluorescence.

Shaking her head, she rose with him walking to their medic on staff. With the injection given, she chided her for postponing it.

Sunk back into the mat, Tom continued to snicker.

"You are enjoying that way too much."

"She said what I thought. Let go of everything, including that golden ticket. We can fix that tonight. As long as we keep her out of loop with Callie, we are good. Coach has a surprise for us after." He patted her shoulder.

Suddenly, the room volume raised an octave. Everyone rose to their feet, lining up to go out. Clutching her hand one last time, Tom pulled her into a hug. "You will be victorious. Agree with me in Jesus's name."

Glancing around rapidly, she whispered back the prayer. "Remember our promise. She held out her pinky.

Grinning foolishly, he held out his too. "I'll be out there." Following behind her to the staging area, darkness surrounded them like a shroud. Hugs, 'you got this', 'time to shine' and 'claws out,' impacted him. Pulling away, he listened to the crowd roaring and the reverberating cheer music pounding. Nothing like swim meets. You can taste the energy. I wish I could run out there. I hope Kevin pulls this off.

In the press section, Kevin sat with a camera focused on Maryland Tide Tsunami finishing their decent routine. Around him, members of the press, ESPN2 and various others shifted and jostled for better position although no one really moved from their position to the far right of the thick blue mat with its orange border. Tsunami finished with a flourish then flowed off the floor. Glancing at his paper order list, he knew everything had to be spot on. "Why did I ever volunteer to do this?"

"Because of the magic, that's why." A cameraman from Dallas remarked without looking away. "Same as me. Grace Wolverine Gold is up next,"

Heaving a relieved sigh, he texted the signal and did the cue mark.

Announcer beckoned, "Next to the floor, Grace Wolverine Gold."

Without missing a beat, the rapid guitar beat flowed out into the Milkhouse. Delight washed over everyone as a flawless routine began.

Aria held a bright fake smile as the squad was announced. Not breathing would cause her gills to be visible so she focused on the soft blue mat hiding the springboard floor. Buzzing crowd of thousands whistling, clapping and buzzing about as she took first position. Seconds crept by. Guitar burst forth bringing loud waves of raucous joy. Then she flew. Time slowed as stunts flowed into each other like a bubbling brook. Everything worked until she shifted, going into her arabesque. Bases compensated quickly, then caught her when she finished. Yet that bobble cost focus. It broke the flow. Another misstep in dance. A missed beat, just a second. Kevin's voice overs echoing in the instrumental parts of the song rattled her concentration. Now done in final position, she sighed, her fake smile even tighter.

Still, hugs all around, and back pats as everyone sped off the mat. Tom stood in the wings, a sweet smile pasted on. Pulling her in for a hug, he whispered, "You bobbled and missed a step. Still, you did excellent. I am proud of you."

"I'll let go of the song if you promise to go with me." She whispered back in honey dripped sweetness. Releasing her, his gaze flashed disapproval. "If you want it bad enough, nothing stands in your way."

Everyone nodded in agreement. ESPN2 anchor stood interviewing Gwen about her following and rumors the music went live. "Yes. They did just play that live. Bold moves demand a response."

Tom grinned, eyes filled with delight. Aria groaned, her smile shattered into a dark frown. Storming off, she paused in an empty part of the hall, slumped to the floor and sobbed.

Emily walked up and knelt down beside her. "We'll be fine. You were excellent. They didn't even see it. I think everyone got caught up in our live music."

"Guys suck you know, Em." She shuddered, letting the tears fall.

"I know. Envy makes it worse. Let it go. We have 15 minutes before they announce placement for day 2. Let's get you cleaned up."

Deep yawns kept erupting from Gwen as she stood beside her teammates holding hands. Tom stood beside Andrea, Pey and Nicole, praying softly. Nicole seemed to repeat his words.

"In third place is Grace Wolverine Gold." Groans and sighs abounded followed by bright smiles. Razor margins separated the top three teams.

Everyone knew what happened yet no one talked. They simply agreed it would be better tomorrow. Aria remained solemn. Hugs and squeezes abounded. No one blamed anyone, at least in front of the others. Yet on their faces they knew. Aria cost them first place.

Giant shrimp rested on a platter laden with ice. Split Maine lobster tail, steamed Alaskan snow crab legs, deep fried calamari with its tan crumble crust flaking as white button down chef jackets and plastic gloved hand servers arrayed it in the stretched on silver platters beneath a rosewood and Plexiglas® sneeze guard. Roasted littleneck clams followed by gulf snapper. On the next table was a carver standing behind a caramelized beef roast slicing off pieces on to bone white china. Mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, steamed broccoli waited beside five or six baked yams.

Opposite rested a cold table overflowing with fresh greens, various organic veggies and dressings for salad. Heaping steel tins of sour cream and butter rested there as well. Amstel light®, Bud light® and Miller light® longnecks rested in an Atlanta braves logoed bucket of ice.

Finally racks of plates waited along with plastic tubs of silverware and steak knives. Tom remained silent, eyes feasting. "How," he whispered to Coach Grace who stood beside him with Gwen and Kevin.

She shook her head, looking up at him. "You were invited. Also, we need to talk without any of the squad over hearing except Gwen."

"What?" She halted her run towards a plate.

"Eat. We'll talk later."

Gwen stopped in front of the plates and pivoted around. Callie and her band talk amongst themselves as they grabbed food of the buffet tables. All around her warm, rich dark woods calm as dozens of monitors display the ACCD Live stream and ESPN 2 stream. Leather chairs sat before glass top tables arrayed with cloth napkins and other Atlanta Braves memorabilia. So unlike anything she encountered with the squad. This seemed more Assembly.

"Eat." Tom whispered as he grabbed a plate, pushing at her hand. She took it, glaring at him.

"What's going on?"

He shrugged. "I would say that the live music succeeded. This is the reward."

Gwen shook her head. "There is more?" She turned back to the smells of all the seafood displayed. Stomach growled loudly. Still she stood wan.

"I will embarrass you in front of everyone by feeding you if you don't start getting food." He held a smarmy grin, staring into her fierce blue eyes.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Did it before, remember." Grin grew brighter. "You know my ways."

Heavy sigh as she pushed shrimp, kelp shreds and other various arrayed foods onto the plate. "Where is Aria? This was her idea."

Tom paused, stunned. "You want her here? Socializing with Callie, bullying Kevin and trying to convince everyone to use the Golden Ticket?"

Fierce glare cut off the smile briefly. "She's not all bad."

"Yet, what I said is true. She wasn't invited. You, me and Kevin were specifically."

Quick glance back at everyone. "That's what worries me."

Tom groaned, setting down his plate of meats and veggies. "You belong here. This is your destiny. As a siren, you sing. Callie sings. How else are you going to get in? Now is the perfect time."

Rolling her eyes as she looked away. "No it isn't. I'm not ready."

He shook his head. "Don't let the opportunity pass. At the very least use it against Aria."

Deep sigh rumbled from her as they both wandered off to a far table.

"They always like that?" One of the band members asked Coach Grace as she finished her plate. "Joined at the hip?"

"Yeah. It's cute. Boyfriend girlfriend cheerleaders."

Amused smile crease Coach Grace's lips. "They say they aren't. Just best friends."

"OK." Yet his tone said he believed none of it.

Leaning back in buttery leather, Tom beheld Gwen with her poof still perfect, fallen stars bow slightly cocked and tense look. "It's not fair," she said for the fifth time.

"I don't know how else to explain it. You are more of a leader than her. You inspire them more than her. She cost the squad first. She wants you to make the choice."

"She wants me to bury the knife in Aria's back. So does the King." She pushed the opened scroll towards him. He had brought it with them, knowing Aria would open it if left alone. Shock rippled across him when she broke open it.

"Tell me you don't want to." Tom said as she continued to scratch out lyrics on cocktail napkins.

"I can get her to act decent." Sharp, determined gaze as she glanced up. Her Royal key clinked against a glass as she raised her wrist to gesture. She sighed exasperated.

"No you can't. The ticket is gone if you don't act now."

Dejected, she stared at him, blinking back tears. tumbled out in a haunting acoustic rendition. Waiting a minute in silence, she blankly stated in her Australian accent. "That's what we lose if she succeeds. It all vanishes into the darkness."

Tom felt eyes on his neck, turned and everyone still stared, stunned at them. Awe, almost worshipful, reflected. "Forgot where you were?" He playfully chided, gesturing to them.

She turned, realized and rose. Callie said something to Reed who nodded, shock just now washing off his face as she strolled over. "That was beautiful."

"Sorry. I'm emotional right now. It comes out."

"Don't ever apologize for showing emotion. You want to hang out with us, talk some shop?" Earnest glance bounced between them. Tom shoved her shoulder. "Go. You need it."

Ice chilled his smile before she looked back at Callie. "I don't want to impose. This is your gig."

"You paid for it. It's as much yours as mine besides---" She noticed the lyrics but said nothing. "We can sing again. You are an excellent songwriter."

Gwen shook her head, staring at Tom pleadingly. He looked up at Coach Grace and everyone else all shock and smiles. Another tall, dapper, bearded man walked into the room. His coal and tan hair seemed scruffy as was his unshaven face. Yet even with that, hugs connected with him. Sporting a tan leather jacket and jet black shirt and jeans, he evaluated the room. Callie lit up, flagging him over.

"Kasz, this is Gwen Breton. Gwen this is Kasz Godard, or Dr. Kasz." He shook her hand after she rose then shot an odd look at Reed who nodded.

"Pleased to meet you. You're a competitive Cheerleader?"

She nodded. "Wolverine Gold." He noticed the lyrics penned on the napkins. Reading it, his eyebrow arched. "And a good lyricist as well. Yours?"

"It's for Callie." Blush flooded her face as she handed them to him.

She looked at Gwen. "Will you at least sing it?" She waved at the bald guy. "He can score unless you can write musical notes."

"Yes. I can play piano and guitar too. It's a gift."

"I bet." Kasz said slyly. Gwen glanced over at Tom again, pleading. "As much as I would love to share my talents, we have some cheer business first."

Kasz mumbled 'cheer business' unsure yet intrigued. Callie nodded. "This food goes away in two hours."

"It won't take that long. I want her sing the song too."

Horror leapt from her eyes when stood away from them. "If I sing that, I'll get a contract for sure. Kasz does that. It's his job," she whispered to Tom.

"You are a siren. So is Callie. Well, an artist." He paused when she frowned. "This is what you do. Quit avoiding it. How are you going to stop Aria if you won't embrace who you are?"

Coach Grace walked over while they were arguing. "Problem?"

"Usual discussion of my life and my future. He wants me to sing again and I...don't know."

She nodded. "I needed to talk to you privately because I am pulling out Aria and using Tom as the substitute."

Eyes widened to the size of plates, he beheld Coach Grace open mouthed. Gwen grimaced, tapping his stubbly chin.

"Thanks. I don't deserve the honor. I'm not a member."

Coach Grace sat down beside them. "When Coach Anders asked if you could do you strength training with us. I told him that we condition for our meets. It is far different from what anyone else did. Closer to Coach Lachoix's runs and scrimmages. Neither you nor he minded. Remember what I told you then."

Tom snickered. "I might be required to give back. This wasn't free. Then I said I was a swimmer so what would I give back: a backstroke?" A tug at the uniform he wore reminded him what happened.

"Don't think I didn't know Aria sneaking in, teaching you all the dance steps and stunts." Gwen rolled her eyes, and began scratching down lyrics on napkins again. Coach Grace rested her well-manicured, star-tipped hand on top of the napkin stack. "Gwen, this affects you too."

"Aria isn't in my stunt group." She stared off, wrinkling her nose as she watched Kasz and Callie chat as he ate.

"No, but I saw the full out last night. I believe it's best for all of us if that arraignment competes tomorrow."

Locking eyes with Tom, she stared, watching for anything untoward. "I have no choice?" The words held a distinct Queensland accent.

Coach Grace frowned. "If you didn't, everyone would be told tomorrow. You two have a relationship. He can do this. How much do you want that ring?"

"Too much. Just don't tell her until tomorrow. I..." she looked over at Kasz and Callie again. A black Gibson® guitar functioned as an extension his body as he played it softly. "I'm shirty enough. She can't add to it."

Coach paused, brows furrowed.

Tom grinned. "She's upset. Aria would make it worse. Her Grandfather wants to see her in a couple of days."

"Oh, I thought it had to do with this. Sorry. Is everything alright?" Coach Grace adjusted herself, the frown deepening. Gwen returned to scribing lyrics.

Tom reached over to grab the scroll. The moment his hand rested on it, she gripped his wrist hard enough to make it white. Fierce implacable stare held her to him.

"Whatever that is, it looks beautiful. Smells salty. You don't have to be specific Gwen. You can trust me. GAMF3GCU."

Releasing his hand, she closed her eyes, momentarily. "Thank you. It's nothing you can do. I have another decision to make. One that affects the rest of my life." The words came out soft, slow and in her normal accentless tone as she watched Tom shake the blood back into his hand."

"Ok then, see you all tomorrow. Victory?"

Gwen smiled. "GAMF3GCU. Thanks for the chance."

"Thanks for rising to the challenge." Shoving the chair back, she rose. Watching Gwen return to writing lyrics then annotating them with music above, she shrugged. After a few more moments of silence, she waved to Kasz, Callie and Reed. "My thanks for everything."

"You're welcome." Reed called out as she pushed out the door. Muggy steam rushed in, warring with the cool chill of the Champions Club.

Gwen glanced over at the door when it shut. At the final click, she grabbed at Tom's uniform top, hauling it inches from her face. "How dare you think you could just show her the scroll?" Fury roared in her eyes as her words took the Australian slant again. "It would be meaningless to her. Can she read Assembly?"

Catching the stares from everyone else, he leaned in. Lips pressed against hers in a deep emotional release. Shock drowned fury in a torrent of need. Pressing back, she fell onto him, releasing the clenched grip. Stroking her face, he broke away. "I did it knowing full well what she would think and what you would do. You didn't need to break my wrist to stop me."

A snort and sigh tumbled out. In the background, Teri Westmore's name rose above the babble catching Tom's attention. "Don't you watch her movies?"

"Changing the subject won't help." She snarked.

"But it never hurts," Kasz said suddenly beside them, carrying the Gibson. "Still want to sing some? We have plenty of time before the jam session."

"Yes." Rising, her hand stroked the Gibson accidently. He looked down at it concerned then thoughtful. "Can you play? I mean really, not the 'yes, I can' and then empty the room of rats."

Brilliant grin accompanied her rapid nod. "Of course. Can I?"

Holding it out, she paused, waiting for a song to cue. On the door, thunderous pounding echoed. Kasz pulled it open, staring disapprovingly at Aria. She bounced back and forth trying to see anything. "Is Gwen inside?"

"That's any business of yours? Also how would she get in? This is a closed club. Scoot along." Kasz shoved the door closed but Aria pushed harder, holding it open.

Handing the Gibson to Tom, Gwen stormed over. The door sprung forward as he released it causing Aria to tumble forward into Gwen who shoved her back out. "You think I forgot you stole the golden ticket, didn't you?"

"What?" Soft, unpainted hands rose in defense. "They want me to perform it."

"Why does it matter?" Gwen staggered with another shove as she shouted in Assembly.

"It doesn't. Speaking in our language does." Stretching her full height, she leaned forward, flashing her bow again. IT wasn't the same. Jerking the bow off her head, Gwen shoved into her face. "You dare?!"

With a hand on the sore spot, she glared. "It's our bow."

"My sister died, Aria! This is my first chance to honor her memory. You wazz on it like 'oh, no big deal. Let Shooting Stars memorialize her. She was on their team.' She was your friend too."

"No, she wasn't. She always treated me with contempt. I tried to be kind. I wanted to be your friend. Of course protocol says I had to go through her. I couldn't. Yes, it sucks that she got caught in that school shooting. I never took advantage of it."

"No excuses!" Gwen squealed. "Everyone else wore a fallen stars bow save you. You, like always, have to stand out. That's how they saw all your mistakes." Seething, she glanced behind.

Tom stood beside Kasz talking. He kept nodding, his gaze sad.

"You bone the shark; you suffer the bite. Tom's taking your place tomorrow. So thanks for training him so well. He will lead us to victory. You WILL HAVE NOTHING to do with it. Enjoy the ring you didn't earn."

"YOU'RE LYING!" Everyone looked at the doorway, silent and disapproving.

"Ask them." She moved out of the way, allowing Aria to see the gorgeous spread and elegant appointments for the first time. Stomach growling, she stormed to Kasz. "Was my Coach here?" He shrugged, unsure but backing away.

Reed announced from the back. "Yes. Your Coach was here. She had to talk to them privately. Now please leave. We have business to conduct. The jam session isn't for several more hours."

"You bitch. Lee was right. I should have never trusted you," she whispered as she walked by. Stepping back outside, she paused, briefly looking lost before wiping it away with dark resolve.

Tom appeared behind Gwen holding a plastic container filled with food. Stepping around and out, he placed it into her hands. "I never said I didn't love you. I said I couldn't bond with you."

Shrimp, crab and roast beef aroma swarmed around as floods of tears fell. Silence echoed as she stared at him. "We are teammates. Pull yourself together. We can sort all this back at home."

"Is it true?"

"Yes. Coach wants that banner and trophy as much as both of you want those rings. You know you are distracted. Do you trust me?"

Blinking away tears, heavy breaths filled seconds. "I always believed you could do it if you wanted to. Didn't we have fun?"

"Of course. Even when you kept kicking me or crashing on me. I can't count the number of times I had to explain to Coach Anders about the bruises. How many times I got jokes about secretly playing football."

"Why not me? Why her? Why is it always her?"

"Can't it be both?" He stoked her cheek as well, catching a tear. Gwen coughed in the background.

"That's why. I'll never understand what she did to grab your heart tighter than mine." Sniffing the beautiful food, lips formed a wan smile briefly. "I am the princess."

Leaning into her ear, he whispered. "Lorelei said I would bond with her. She was sadly 100% accurate."

Aria broke away, sobbing again, shaking her head. Tom watched her run across the field, around the stage built at home plate then vanish. Shambling back inside, Gwen asked, "What did you tell her?"

"The truth. You could have let her eat." He starred at the array of food, shaking his head.

Biting her tongue, she exhaled heavily. "Wide Awake? Or 'I don't Care' by Demi Lovato?"

Scrubbing his head, he saw the lyrics she scratched onto the napkins. "That." He pointed to them.

" it is," she said, exhaling heavily and chucking the bow at him, crushed under the weight of her rage. Yet it still smelt of kelp and berries as he dropped it on the table.

Garish sporting images and quotes consumed the wall beside Aria. The ESPN grill busboy winked at her as he placed the frozen lemonade down. "Thanks for waiting. Sorry the self-service machine broke."

"It's Ok, really." She pushed a 10 into his hand with her Twitter® name on the bill. Leaning forward, tan wood chair creaked, darkening her mood.

What happened? Everything sat up perfectly. Now where am I? She dug into the seafood assortment before her, a smile appearing when it tasted as good as it smelt. I am not letting her steal my joy. Pain is now but victory is eternal.

"I didn't expect to find you alone," a tall man spoke from the other side of her table. His stocky, stout frame filled with sharp edges carried a kind peace about it.

"I didn't expect to be alone. Gwen threw me under the bus." A throwing motion accompanied her words. "Now she gets to enjoy the fruit of my labor."

Popping another shrimp in her mouth, she looked up at him rubbing his flaxen breaded chin.

"May I sit?"

"Why not?" She shrugged, focusing on the remaints of the scallops.

"You texted me you got a song then nothing. So what happened?" Concern filled hazel eyes waited as she chewed.

"She won't let me talk to them and now they hate me. So I lost again." Lemonade burped onto the table when she squeezed it too hard. "I wish Mom talked to you more, Brad."

"I do too," he said wistfully. Rising to get napkins, she noticed him visually accessing the bland wood furnishings and self service area. Handing her a stack when he returned, he smiled confidently. "I have a solution. Give me the copy. I know some people. You want this recognized as yours right."

Aria looked up at him, eyes wide, nodding. "She'll block it though."

He humphed, slid into to a chair across from her and withdrew a page sized shiny tablet which lit up when he tapped it. Aria stared at it, riveted.

"Do not tell anyone you saw this." He said as the apple logo appeared on the screen. "This is a beta model of their new product K48 coming out next year. I am testing it for a bold friend who wanted to see how well it works in a normal environment." Shaking his head, he held out his other hand. "I know you have your phone."

Nodding, she slid it out from behind her waistband. "What do you need it for?"

Brad smiled. "You didn't record the song onto your phone?"

She sighed. "You know me too well."

"K48 will synchronize with the IPhone and I'll email to someone I trust at Interscope Geffen®."

Staring at the tablet again, she glanced at him. "Who?"

"The people who signed Eddie Durant." He shook his head. Tapping the screen a few times, he entered contacts, drew the song from the iPhone and then mailed it to him. "Relax. I'll tell you tomorrow after the meet what they think of it." He grinned again. "And quit letting Gwen get to you. You know she will, especially if suits her."

"Kind of hard when she turns your boyfriend against you." She moped, digging through the last of the plastic container of food.

"Tom is forever hers. You should know that." He shook his head, sliding the now off tablet back into its sleeve. "He's been doting on her since before Lorelei died. Even as Vice principal I could see them a couple." He shrugged.

Aria rose as he did. "You never asked where my bow is."

He chuckled. "You never asked what the tablet's name is."

"It doesn't matter, does it?" Shoving the plastic into the trash, she followed him out into the waning sunlight.

"Not really. Good luck tomorrow." He walked toward a parked rental.

Strolling down the sidewalk, she sighed. I won't need it. I'll be watching them win.

Gwen held her breath as she walked across the stage. Subconsciously tugging at her uniform shorts, she looked out across the stands, eyes wide. I don't belong up here. I'm not an artist. I'm a siren. I'm not even singing my own song. I told Lorelei if she left, I never would. Her last words: 'The time will come when you will.' It's not here. Blowing out a heavy breath, she looked at the band all smiles. Sandy brown hair guy sitting at the piano, another guy on the guitar. Someone else on the drums. I'm so good with names. Why can't I remember them?

Kasz stood just before the seats in the infield. He grinned brightly, his confidence brimming. 'Gwen, at this point, it's not about if you get a contract, it's how soon ,can we? I'm talking to my people and also an agent friend of mine when I get back. So relax, you don't need to impress anymore.' He'd said on the way out.

Pacing, she sighed, clenching one hand. I'm not impressing anyone. This is me. I sing under stress. If I can't, then I write. At least Tom explained away 'Worn' by Tenth Avenue North as me mourning Lorelei. So much deeper. What's worse, how do I tell him I am dating Winn?

Turning back to pacing the other direction, she stopped short of Callie, poised and focused. Compassion filled her eyes. "There will be no one here but us. Relax. You have a beautiful voice."

Stopping her head from shaking, she pasted on a smile. You know this because I'm singing your future music. You can't get tranced by that. "Tom?"

"Down there with Kasz. He's as hard to impress as Simon Cowell. 'Wide Awake' blew his socks off.

"And your song?" A gulp slid down her throat.

"It's yours. I will take it. I'll honor our agreement and say it's mine. Still, we know the truth."

Genuine humor flooded her cheeks. Truth beyond anything you can imagine. "Thanks."

"Let's do this!" Callie shouts as she motions to the band to start 'Already Gone'. She smiles at Gwen who realizes almost immediately what the song means. Soft rock ballad surrounded her as a pounding heartbeat, twinkly piano and swooping strings gripped Kasz and Tom. Piano and string arrangements roll mournfully over the percussion as Callie belted out the first part.

Drawing an inward reserve, Gwen saw its moderately slow tempo in her mind's eye, tasting the key arraignment. As the chorus began, she added her voice in. Kasz's grin brightened, elbowing Tom.

"She can internally mix. Wow."

"Voice of an angel?" Tom added, giving thumbs up.

Kasz glanced at him and nodded.

As the song faded, so did Gwen's angst. Serenity flooded in. Rolling through all the songs of her latest album, she kept pace with Callie almost as if they were twins. During the break, she sat on the stage edge reflective drinking Throat Coat® tea.

"You sure you want to continue?" Tom asked as the sun slowly sat. "I thought you wanted to watch Coupe du Monde compete? They are up in 30."

"I do. I need this more. We are singing 'People like us' next." A playful grin slipped out.

Tom scanned the stands behind them, his face blank. "This is OK?"

She rested her arm on his shoulder, turning him gently back to her. "I'm sorry I dragged you through all of this. It's not fair to you." Another sip of the tea and she squeezed his hand. "I need the strength to do what is required of me. As much as I love this," she tugged on her half top gently, "it's a vision quest." Changing to Assembly, she continued. "Born a siren of House Cetus, I'm responsible to my call as well as my sister."

"Lorelei would be proud of that answer." Turning her face towards him, fingers grazed her cheek. "I will always be by your side. I chose you. Tell me."

Sad eyes blinked back tears. "King Natal wants to know if I'm willing to become Princess. Aria's time runs short. Both requirements remain unfulfilled. I'm the other choice."

"The other major houses?"

"Empty. The destruction of the previous capital and the 9/11 attack ensured that."

Wrapping his arms around her, he slid inward. She rested her head on his shoulders. "Trust me?" Whispered words rested in his left ear.

"I do. I'm going with you, regardless. I can float above."

"No you can't. It's a four mile round trip swim to the Coral Sea. You would attract attention. While I would take you to the Vault of Memories--"

"Then I will leave from there." He kissed on the forehead. "Time to sing. They are ready."

He watched her hand the cup to a roadie as she grabbed the microphone again. She grinned at him, a plastic one. I will be fine. It's only as complicated as I make it.

Aria kept looking, scanning the crowds every time a squad would exit the mat. Her squad sat around watching the competition, evaluating and resting. Once the final squad bounced across thick blue mats arrayed for them, time for full outs would begin. Still Gwen absent. "Have you seen her?" she shouted over the screams at the CA Wildcats departure.

Andrea sighed. "She'll be here. If she's not it, then she's not. Focus, Aria." Sighing herself, she did just that. Nothing but surface people around me. Off in the warm up room, Reagan Dawn joked about how LC is as good as any other squad. Shaking her head, Aria sighed again. Nothing at the edges. Then it hit. Joy bubbled within her as she heard Gwen signing something in Assembly as she ran through the entranceway. People froze as if dripped in liquid nitrogen then awoke refreshed.

"Do you see her?" Andrea nudged as she spoke.

"I do."

"Good. I'm getting a hotdog. Want one?"

Wrinkling her nose, she hid the frown, "Fish taco?"

Andrea laughed. "I'll see."

As Gwen came into viewing distance she waved at everyone until her gaze connected with Aria. Flat plastic smile didn't match the busy seamless wave. Aria's smile crimped as she realized that fact. "I'm not saying 'sorry', Aria."

Looking up with hope, she cast a plastic grin. "I didn't expect you would. I'll let it go if you will. For now."

"Deal." She leaned over, hugging her. "You are my friend. Can we not let guys or things get between that?"

"OK." She nodded. "Later."

"Tomorrow night." Gwen replied over the Coupe du Monde Shooting star music.

"Of course," By that point, I'll have my song. We'll have our ring and everything with finally be on course.

Tom stood along the back walkway again watching squad do full-outs. It had been 24 hrs since he'd been here last and now he'd actually be on the blue mat shortly helping them win the championship. A day changes everything. Never expected to be in the Milkhouse for anything but swimming. Shaking his head, he pivoted, paused and waited as Reagan approached. Trotting behind her were two girls of similar stature. One, shorter with golden blond ringlets, bedecked in a Coupe du Monde Shooting Stars uniform, waved.

He sighed, a delighted grin as Chelsey Reule approached. The other, dusky copper, straight coal hair bound in a high pony seemed excited. Cheer Athletics Wildcats logos announced her in the contrasting white uni.

"Reags?"

"I actually expected you with the squad considering the rumor. Right here makes things easier." Hands on hips, she hand rolled to the Wildcat cheerleader. "I have a solution to the problem. Fawn, show him."

A spiral notebook appeared from behind her covered in handwritten lyrics. "Take it."

"Why?" Sharp frown contrasted her delight. A glance towards the practice hinted nothing.

"It's a solution." Reagan insisted, pushing the spiral into his chest.

A snort exited through his suave smile. "It might work. However...I don't know." He sighed, glancing back at them.

Ringlets girl stepped forward, annoyed. "Trust me, it will." She leaned over, whispering into his ear. "Make your choice and quit acting so damn noble. Lorelei would have punched you by now."

Tom pulled back enough, really looking at her. "Sorry, Chelsey. It's just that I'm not a cheerleader. I am swimmer. As much as Aria irritates me, I can't steal her dream."

All the ladies held this soft wistfulness. Fawn whispered into Reagan's ear while Chelsey stared at him, unimpressed. She held up her hand with two world champion rings on it. "I knew that rumor was true. You want Gwen to have a ring? It costs. If you really feel Lorelei spoke truth then I know you know what to do. Do it."

Tom blinked, glancing back. "Did you write those lyrics?"

She grinned. "And if I did? What would change?" She lifted her hair to show a jade-azure sea wave birthmark. Two waves with three black dots floating above. Pure born from a minor house. "Quit trying to figure out my house name and go." Fierce glare accompanied the pointed finger.

Tom flashed an amused smile. "No one else knows. I would embarrass her in front of everyone." He shook his head, staring at Reagan. "Rumors travel fast?" She shrugged. Yet Chelsey stood silently, breathing deeply. Drawing an infinity symbol in front of her, she raised her hands.

"Chelsey, don't!" Reagan shouted, wide eyed fear reflected back.

"I made a promise. I don't break those." Then she started tapping the wall like a piano. A loop of dreamy synthetic digital blips, floating high and low coursed from her fingertips. Electric piano intermixed with dance music vibe as soft, breathy vocals swallowed thousands into the moment.

"..." she sang without looking towards him only touching his hand with her thigh.

Downtown Los Angeles burst around him as he stood beside her still in her Shooting Stars uniform. A broad amused grinned remained affixed as he stared. Raising her arms up, she stepped behind him. Night enveloped them as the man he recognized as Adam Young played on a tiny piano. Only the synthetic sound continued from him. Synthpop swelled as drum beat the chorus out. People rushed and flipped and sprinted beside them, a torrent of glowing happiness.

Around them city lights blinked in time with the music. Stars twinkled with the beat. Finally as the song flowed to an ethereal end, Adam rose, sprinting off as well. Joining them, freedom coursed through his veins unlike anything he'd felt in a while. Street after street flew by until they approached the entrance of the Bonaventure hotel. Stopping before the doors, the city fell away revealing Wolverine Gold like flies in amber. They still shook off the last of the trance.

Shaking his head, the look of wonder on Gwen's face made him reach down and hug her. Only when he pulled her into him, Aria rose and dusted herself off. Fury travelled in her gaze as she held her ground. Bursts of melody filled the air as Chelsey glared back before walking away.

"What happened?" he asked over Aria screaming in Assembly.

"She knew immediately when everyone froze that another siren commanded the scene. I never expected it would be Chelsey Reule, Lorelei's best friend. What did you say to possess her to create that?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. She took me inside, so I didn't see anything."

Her mouth fell open. "She touched you?"

"Yes. I happen to be very charismatic." He flashed a suave grin yet his gaze spoke fear. A string of Assembly curses fell from Aria's lips as her eyes raked across Tom. "Why aren't you in uniform?"

"Look again." Tom glanced around concerned. Everyone awake, stretching out and talking. Andrea stood out of earshot talking to Coach Grace. "Why didn't you get me?"

"I didn't tell anyone." Deep frown on rosy pink lips nearly broke his heart. She gripped his side. "I would rather not."

Gwen groaned. "Owl City."

Snapped back, Tom sighed. "Yes. So how are we going to play this?"

Another groan. "Honestly?"

Pulling himself so close that the salty sweat mixed with jasmine perfume filled the space between them, he whispered. "We have to give her this one. That's what the song was about; being a light where we are."

Gwen pushed back gently but swiftly. Waving Emily and Kaylie over, she closed her eyes and inhaled before asking. "Coach wants Tom to base me."

Emily nodded then realized the statement, brows furrowed. "You aren't telling anyone the real reason."

"No. We all want the ring, right? If I have to look bad, so be it."

Kaylie shook her head. "You don't. You look like her friend."

Aria paced along the mat as Wolverine gold warmed up. Ten minutes left and either they would earn a ring, banner, trophy and get medals around their necks or not. Still, she frowned, arms akimbo around her half top. Her Star and claw bow matched everyone else's. Still she would wait in the wings like Tom did yesterday. I should have never convinced them last year to allow him to do backup. 'He would be great for the alternate configuration.' Now look! ' She sighed, hissing when Tom walked over, tense.

"Are you ok?" He smiled suave, eyes shining.

She stared, implacable. Long silent pause gripped them both. Finally, he leaned down, kissed her forehead. "Thanks."

"For what?" she whispered, the fierceness broken.

"For letting me in. I know you don't want this. Neither do I. Trust me?"

"I have no choice," Bitter hissing filled her voice as she looked away.

"Yes, you do. In your heart you made it. Maybe we can come back after all this is over." He grinned peacefully then walked away following the team as it walked out. Following them fitfully, she hummed 'Jar of Hearts', her fist clenched.

From the wings, beauty unfolded on that blue mat. Every stunt, every pyramid, every dance, spot on. Perfection stalked them today, deepening her scowl. 'Of course I taught him the exact way to hold, lift and catch.' She rubbed the back of her head from that one hit he apologized repeatedly about.

Music swarmed around her as the two minute thirty second performance wound down. "Being with you is so dysfunctional. I really shouldn't miss you but I can't let you go," she whispered as she ran out in the midst of hugs and cheers. All seemed forgiven. Now everything hung on whether the judges loved them, the other teams flawless performances' rose higher and luck. 'Not that I believe in that.'

Gwen ran off the side with the rest of the team as the ESPN® reporter waved them over. Tom stood beside her, arm around her waist as she stood poised and animated.

"Any thoughts on how well you did?" The reporter asked, seemingly bored yet smiling.

"We hit. You never know." Worry reflected back. Does she know something we don't?

"We won. No doubt about it. Everything gelled perfectly." Tom said, charm oozing out.

Her eyes swam across him. "It looked spectacular." Then the director off camera make a cut motion and everyone flowed out to the waiting area to watch and wonder. She flowed over to a small place away from the rest, staring at Tom. "What was that?"

"You froze. I bailed you out." He dragged a finger along her cheek. "We won. I know some of them freaked at Aria not being in. The excuse worked. You have no blood on your hands."

She shook her head. "She hates me for this. Didn't you see her look? Where is she? Over with Allie, Gabi and Mara. We are alone." Tom scowled briefly, masking it as quickly as it manifested.

"You won't be for long. Enjoy the moment." A voice said from behind her. Recognizing it, she spun around to Callie standing with three large men in well-tailored suits. "I wanted to give you my info because we are leaving." Handing an embossed business card with scrawled numbers on the back, she leaned over and hugged her. "They showed us your performance after we were finished. I know nothing about Cheerleading. Still it looked fabulous."

"It is." She grinned, sliding the card in her waistband. "Thank you for everything. We couldn't done it without you."

Tom snickered, shaking his head. "Forever united here somehow?" She elbowed him in the ribs.

Callie laughed as well. "Yeah. I was so unsure but both of you intrigued us. You do have a piece of me now." She nodded, still smiling. "Next concert tour, I want you to my makeup. OK?" She winked at Tom who scowled, winking back. A bodyguard leaned over as she turned.

Grim frown replaced the delight. "I almost forgot. That song you didn't want out there. The one your teammate stole. Someone else heard it. They won't let it go. Sorry."

Gwen frowned deeply, fists clenching. Tom grasped her arm and she suddenly smiled all plastic. "Thank you for trying."

"Make a demo. OK?" Callie said before walking away. Tom rubbed Gwen's arm as she shook. "Calm down. You have to look happy for the results."

Pivoting, she pushed him against the cold concrete wall. "All that music is vanishing into the darkness. I can feel it." Tears ran down her face. "I didn't stop it. Now what?" She leaned her head into his chest. Tom stroked her hair gently, pensive distant gaze holding briefly.

"It will be alright." Looking over, he saw Coach Grace approach, her odango ponytails flowing behind her. Her face held determined sadness.

"You were magical. Nevertheless I want to apologize." She said as Gwen looked up wiping her eyes. "Why?"

"I forced this on you. You too, Tom. It wasn't fair that I made do this without any acclimation." She cocked her head to one side waiting for the awards announcement.

"So we didn't win?" Hesitation enunciated his words.

"It's close. The margin is three tenths of a point. We hit but the substitution cost me." She noticed Gwen's tears. "You OK."

"Fine. Callie said goodbye but gave me info about a career that died. I'll be fine." Tom stroked her hair again. In the background the call for the awards ceremony began. "We will win. I feel it."

Coach Grace looked at Tom. "I hope so."

Kevin remained in the press corps area, his camera recording everything again. Never in a million years will they believe this. He smiled at the cashier's check in his pocket. $1000 for the song 'jar of hearts'. Aria gave it when the email appeared saying they accepted her demo. Making an on the fly demo? Money is money. Money to do more video work. Shaking his head, he heard the call for the awards to start. A quick pan of the assembled wood pyramid trophies with crystal globes at the apex resting on a black cloth table for effect then he focused on the team.

"Amazing, all of this for rings, banners and metals?" The guy beside wearing a North Carolina shirt with call letters on it commented curiously.

"It's like Olympics for them." Another voice hissed before Kevin could speak. What did Aria always say? 'Time to shine.'

The announcer cued up, his overexuberance evident. "Here we go! The Bronze champ; senior small coed 2009...Ice Lightning!"

He noticed Gwen and Tom clench their hands tighter. Everyone on Wolverine Gold bowed their head, all holding hands.

"Silver champion in our senior small coed division...Tribe Cheer Chiefs!"

A collective gasp rose from the team and as everyone realized what was happening. "Our World champions for 2009 senior small coed... Grace Cheer Wolverine Gold!"

The team bolted up, hugging and crying and bouncing around. Coach Grace hugged her other coach as everyone slapped hands, squeezing each other tightly.

"Hey dude, you crying?" The north Carolina guy asked.

"Yeah. They won. I didn't think it would happen."

"Neither did we. Three tenths of a point. ESPN is so pissed right now."

"Let them be. It's their loss." Kevin waved at Tom who gave a huge thumbs up.

"I will say this. That live music was bold. Shame it will never happen again." Kevin nodded. "Yeah. Completely. Boldness means risks."

"Risks mean failure sometimes. Not today."

Kevin nodded. Not today.

As the silver charger carrying the gold metals moved around the mat, Tom looked over at Chelsey and Reagan approaching. Reagan wore silver and Chelsey gold. "Told you. Gold looks good on you," Reagan grinned.

"Thanks for yesterday," a sheepish grin tightened his cheeks.

"You needed hope and you helped me so I returned the favor. Where's Gwen?"

Tom reached behind him and Gwen appeared confused at first then delighted. "Hey. Ladies. I finally won." She pulled Reagan into a tight hug. "It's amazing."

"I have something for you." Chelsey smiled yet a sadness gripped her gaze. Gwen went to embrace her then noticed the small felt box in her hand. "What's that for."

"It's yours." She pushed the box into Gwen's open hand. "It's time you cared for it." Opening the box revealed a sparking 2008 world championship ring. "It's Lorelei's. We are ordering her this years too. I had really hoped you would make it this year so I could give this to you." She leaned in an whispered. "I haven't the heart to go to Antarctica myself."

Gwen froze, eyes shining. "Thanks so very much."

"No thank you. She has been a guiding light all these years. Times and uniforms change. We move on." Chelsey's eyes shined too.

"I wish we could sing," Gwen whispered in Assembly as she hugged her tightly.

"Me too. Perhaps when we get to NYC." She winked and walked up. Reagan shrugged. Tom raised an eyebrow.

"She wants you to come with her. You are going that way anyway. You said you have to meet the King."

Gwen nodded. "I have to go take the picture."

Reagan smiled shaking her head. Tom caught the frown that formed as she ran up there.

"Don't frown. You won't be alone for long. Trust me."

"Some things don't change, Tom. No matter how hard you force them."

"I am living proof that is a lie. You know that. I will see you soon." He squeezed her hand and ran up there as well.

She exhaled heavily. "That's what scares me."

5: Feel my tears as they dry

Loud slamming jolted Tom out of bed just before dawn. Glancing at the clock, he shook off sleep and rose. Shuffling to the door with only Nike® pro Combat compression shorts, he leaned on the cream door still in a reverie of sorts before throwing it open. Darkness suffused with fluorescent lights, a metal lined concrete walkway and massive football helmets he expected to greet him as they wont every day since he checked in.

Instead, Coach Sylvan's office stared back. The Stairmaster®, the metal desk with name placard and cranberry stationary covering it. The west wall trophy case, burnished rich sepia, standing proud and packed to the gills. Old analog TV in the corner still warm from recent use. Soft cranberry leather chairs with the 4 initials of the school on their back. Dented file cabinets covered in trophies, and ribbons. The overflowing billboard of notes and pictures of a highly successful sideline cheerleading coach decorated the walls. Tiny banners hung from the ceiling. Everything cranberry and cream suffused with morning's golden light.

Rich brown leather chair faced the back wall, a tall thick necked woman with a tightly cropped mane of ruddy maize barely masking a tattoo of the marine shield with 'Pain is weakness leaving the body' resting in it. She leaned forward exposing the tattoo more as Tom stepped in.

Silent minutes after, Lorelei, still in her Shooting Stars uniform and jacket. ran in. "Coach?"

Sylvan looked up, her worn expression brightened. "What can I do for you, Lorelei?"

"I came to--" fell out before a hogshead barrel sized imp, pig faced with thick jowls stormed in. Brandishing a Glock®17, he cast blank stares around, focusing on Sylvan. "Foul Assembly woman, be gone!"

His arm jerked as a thunderclap shook the room. Blood splattered across the trophy case behind as her lifeless head cracked against the glass, rouge and grey oozing from the wound along her hair line.

Lorelei stood frozen as the man turned, aimed and fired. Tom dove at him, the bullet gouging the flesh above his right obliques. Turning away, the man felt Tom's thick muscular fist slam the back of his head causing a stumble. Tom rolled the imp up banging the shooting arm just enough that when he fired, the bullet entered his mouth rather that over his shoulder like he intended. Sticky gore spattered everything, drenching the floor and bulletin board.

Lorelei stood shaking, barely breathing as gray chunks, and viscous bloody fluids dripped and fell from her strawberry blonde hair, masking her band of copious nose freckles. Tears ran from her eyes.

Shoving the now dead and partially decapitated man off him, he shoved the gun into the corpse's mouth before rising.

Lorelei exhaled, pivoting and stepping from the pooling blood. "Why are you here?"

"I couldn't let you die. Not like this. I would never forgive myself." He pulled a hanky out of the dead man's pocket, wiping her face and hair gently. Stinging radiated across his torso, like a bad sunburn. She pointed at the growing stain on his Forest Hills Beavers swim team t-shirt.

"You were hit."

"I'm fine." He smiled beneath the grimace, continuing to wipe the blood and other fluids from her with a towel from the chair. Pink specks had settled, staining the jacket even after several wipes. Her white Nfinity® shoes were half crimson now. "I'm here and I won't let you go, no matter what."

"That wasn't supposed to happen. You aren't supposed to be here. I..." More tears flooded down as she crumpled into his arms. "She needs you far more than I do. I..." Heavy weeping crushed the remaining words as he cradled her.

"Don't go. I need you. Your House needs you. Coupe du Monde needs you. The Assembly needs you." Small strokes along her cheeks stifled the sobs as the aroma of death began to saturate their air. Coughing, Tom inhaled deep.

Before him, a cold concrete walkway's buzzy fluorescent lights struggled against a fitful dawn. The other hotel building stood proudly across the faux football field, goal posts at each end. "Why did you let go?" he mumbled as he knelt from his crouched position; pooled tears beneath splattering. Rubbing the scar, he sighed. "I'm doing this for you, Lorelei. I can't let her suffer like you did. I can't see the heartbreak and utter horror like that night. We all love you so much. We miss you so terribly."

Reagan paused before him, kneeling down. She wore the same bikini as before, only damp. Aroma of fish and wet algae rose, wrinkling his nose. He glanced up, rose in his cheeks.

"I'm fine," he snapped before realizing who she was.

"I doubt it. Still, I understand." She stared at the scalloped scar, its wrinkles different from the cut abs and obliques. "Did you tell her?"

"Tell her what? I went to save her sister and failed. You know hard it was to convince the police Coach Delamort committed suicide. It's like they knew I shot him even though he held the gun." He grimaced, tears pooling again. "Regardless of that, she died that night. Her body lived five more days. Gwen thought I was being a good friend. Such good friend I was." He wiped his eyes with his arm, sighing heavily.

"Then a week later, she gets sick. It was almost too much for her family to take. I had to intervene. Now I am here. Never expected to don a cheerleading uniform and perform a routine that won them first place in their division."

"Grand Champion." Reagan knelt beside him. "You love her even though you never say it. She loves you too even though she acts like she doesn't. It's in her eyes and the way she treats you. You didn't fail, you just didn't win."

"I needed to."

She shook her head. "No. Things are set for a reason. You will know soon enough." Leaning to give him a hug, she noticed a roundel tattoo peeking out his waistband: a white Maltese cross on red. "What's that?"

"It's my father's crest. He always had one with him. Google says it's the symbol of the Sovereign Military Order of Malta. I think he was a part of that at one time. I have it to remember him. My uncle got it for me after her shooting."

Reagan's eyes blazed with delight and amusement as she hugged him. "Sometimes, I swear you are so much a part of us, I want to bond with you myself." Stepping back, she turned into the dawning sun. "Time to head home. Be confident. You won't fail. Wear your ring. You earned it."

Pulling himself up, he marveled at her. "Sometimes I wish I was free of this too. Life would be easier."

"Easier would be staying in Detroit and never taking that ride on the midnight train." She said, hands on hips. "She told me how you charmed her that night you met. You gave her the strength to do what she needed to."

"See you on the bus, Reagan." He said grim as he opened the hotel door. Darkness stared at him.

"At least tell her." Reagan continued, a sigh echoing.

"You think I haven't?" He commented without turning back. "Yesterday is as close as I have ever gotten with her. The cost? Walking headlong into Aria's fury. I don't know what happens next because the path before me reeks of spilled blood. "

Silence reigned as Tom stared into the yawning darkness for a seeming eternity before taking a step.

"Wait!" Reagan yelped.

"I thought you left," Tom wheeled around, surprise masking his exhaustion.

Switching to Assembly, she blew a low pitched wheeze, a dark sound conveying a deep unsettling statement ahead. "You need to bond with her."

His demeanor slumped more. "That would violate her right to choose. I can't do that."

"Sometimes I swear you are a fool. She already chose you." Reagan glared, hands now akimbo. "Why do you think she wouldn't kiss you while in true form. Its permanent, irrevocable and everlasting. She doesn't possess the strength to fight Aria alone. Neither do you."

"You can?" Tom said softly, grit and disbelief in his voice.

"No. I can't. She's the favorite daughter beneath the waves. They don't realize how dangerous that choice is."

Tom walked to the railing, and pivoted. The light cast his frustrated mask into an obscene horror archetype. "So she'll get away with it?"

"If you let her. If you wait for Gwen to bond with you of her own volition, you are letting Aria win. You are letting her steal that Christina the waitresses' golden ticket and her better life with it."

"If I bond with her through deceit or manipulation, then not only am I no better than Aria, Gwen will lose all respect and trust with me."

"No, she won't." Chocolate hair swished as her head shook back and forth. "It's a bond. Not a date or a surface relationship. She loves you. Here," She stabbed him with her finger in the chest above his heart. "She's afraid it will change things. All that you went through with Lorelei and you never thought that?"

He snorted, sighing again. No smile, just a flat line his lips made. "Of course. I know it would, and I accept that, I respect her so I wouldn't do it."

Folding her arms under her bust again, she grimaced. "I've seen Aria's rage. No she won't hurt you or Gwen but she will destroy that woman and anyone else in her path. Before you say no again, go check the requirements for becoming King or Queen. Think about it. How much do you want Gwen to succeed?"

"There is no other way?"

"Good morning." Turning away, she stalked off.

As her footfalls faded into the silence, he stared into the night. No matter what I choice, someone gets hurt. Why do I always get stuck making the choice?

Gwen groaned as she dragged her luggage through Orlando International's Atrium. Finding a comfortable bench beside a tall yet prickly palm tree, she passed out hugs as everyone in the squad passed by, heading towards the B side and home. Yet she wasn't headed to Lafayette directly. She never did. Her and Aria always flew to NYC and used one of the numerous hidden Assembly gates to get back. Considering there were no direct flights to Lafayette, it actually saved time.

However, today was different. Still going to JFK but instead of dialing home when they reached Fraunces Tavern, she would dial Natal island; the gate that lead to Ondine, the underwater capital of Cetacea; the place all members of the Assembly call home. Aria was supposed to wait behind and go with Tom.

Trailing behind her, he halted just beside, his demeanor remained prickly as well. "I should be going with you."

"No!" She barked. "We've been over this. You can't swim the distance and float on the surface. You will attract too much attention. There is not enough time to turn you even if Aria accelerated the process." Humming to herself she groaned.

He pulled out his phone, texting Aria. Walking towards him, a margarita in one hand and her phone in the other, she looked up. "Sometimes healing can be a benefit."

Gwen stopped humming. She closed her eyes and whispered, "Won't look down, won't open my eyes." Opening them, she commented, "Tell me that isn't alcohol."

Dour, Aria retorted. "It's not. Not that it would matter." She looked over Tom dressed in his standard blue jeans and Pistons T-shirt. "Don't even think of it. I owe you," hissed out.

"More than you know," he snarked back. Gwen sighed again, looked around and listened. Reagan was still at the curb because her bus left late. Her coach thinks it's a bad idea to split up but considering that her father is the reason they exist; he's open to her travelling with a different squad. Chelsey is at security but not in a line. She's waiting for someone: us.

"Oh, that's perfect." Gwen fake grinned, then turned to Aria. "Why do you have a virgin margarita?"

"The salt. Isn't it obvious." She noticed that Gwen suddenly held a dark smile in place of her brooding. "What are you planning?"

Gwen shrugged, snorting derisively. "They are not patting me down again."

"What happened last time?" Tom asked hesitantly.

Aria sighed, staring at Gwen. "Well?" She stared off into the west security area, singing 'Chandelier' again. "Gwen, you will attract too much attention if do."

With her sweetest, fierce grin, she rose. "Walk through security without having to empty things and take off shoes while everyone is tranced? Yes, I can't because I need to be in true form. Also the cameras. I have a different plan. Cloak. I can do that. So can Chelsey."

Tom paused a second and then zeroed in on Aria. "You're on board?"

"As soon as Kevin arrives." She pointed to the tell-tale thump of his arrival. Behind him walked Reagan who seemed thoughtful.

"I am wondering if 'Coming Home part 2' is more appropriate to the situation at hand."

Aria bristled but looked back and caught Reagan. In a rapid burst of Assembly, she told what Gwen planned. Reagan nodded, a small smirk formed. "That should be interesting. All of us or just you two?"

Tom saw her and shook his head. "Seriously?"

"Tom, people have no clue what we can truly do together. However, there isn't that many of us." She pointed across the atrium towards western checkpoint. "Too many of them."

He nodded his head. "Two checkpoints. Standard security cameras are soundless. They will still come."

Kevin chuckled. "Not if there is nothing to come for." He held a black flip phone up. "Virgin Mobile phone. Not traceable. Call the PA number and it goes airport wide. Even the TSA office will hear it. The cameras record nothing because they walk into a non-camera location and come out cloaked. The length of the song to do it. Me, I get the pat down regardless. I don't care either."

Gwen exhaled, her grin faded into a determined flat line. "I CAN do this. ' first then . That's six minutes."

Aria sat the empty glass next to a square potted palm tree, her face petulant. "So that's the price?!"

Reagan wheeled on her. "The price for what? You have a ring and a jacket. You won. Quit whining."

Tom caught Aria's expression harden then noticed Reagan and Gwen glance among themselves ever so briefly. "Can we all work together? I figure with the five of us--"

"I thought Fawn took an earlier flight with the rest of the Wildcats," Aria asked aloud to no one particular.

"That's where you are wrong," Fawn said in assembly walking around the palm tree. "Hi everyone." She said loudly in English. "Me and Coach gave up our seats to an elderly couple who missed theirs so they could make it home." She pointed to the tall, thin man in jeans and t-shirt emblazoned with the Cheer Athletics logo on the front. "Next available flight is yours."

"New York is out of the way, isn't it?" Kevin asked, his brow furrowed.

Everyone except Tom glared at him. Tom chuckled and shook his head. "I assure you, it's not."

Gwen glanced at the coach's agitated nature. Whispering, "He didn't want to do this?"

"Not go back through security. I told him you all were here. He believes we are going together."

"We are, to NYC anyway. You aware of the 'siren's cloak'?"

Fawn nodded. In Assembly, she whispered. "It's not been done on the surface in a long time."

"Follow my lead." Looking back at everyone, she waved and staring walking toward the Coach and the western security checkpoint. Entering the center queue, Gwen scanned again for Chelsey. She stood against a wall near where the handicapped people were being scanned. "Kevin. Chelsey is near where you get checked. I want you to say this to her then go through yourself. We need you to create the opening so we can walk through that area." She spoke a phrase in Assembly, slowly and clearly. "Understand?"

"Yes," He nodded, a delight smile on his face.

"Repeat it then."

He did, she nodded and shooed him off to inform her. As she watched him shuffle, Tom asked, "What's going to happen?"

"I'm coming home." Gwen sang for a second. Aria looked at her sharply, groaned and nodded., waving everyone forward. Gwen started singing suddenly casting a wave of peace and silence over the people before her.

People milled about. Business man with rolling luggage slipped by. Tourists bedecked in relaxed garments stood with shoulder bags ensconced. TSA agents walked behind them scanning the area like hawks. Suddenly, everyone glanced around as she approached, then froze. The PA stopped its reminders about parking. Gwen fluidly moved through the handicapped doors into the main area of the checkpoint and on through the screening area, holding hands with Tom. He carried his own carryon around his chest as he held Aria's hand. Reagan held her hand and Fawn's. Fawn held Chelsey who sang the song as well in time with Gwen.

To those in the silent booth monitoring the cameras, it appeared everyone stopped for six minutes with only a door moving. Agents were dispatched immediately. They arrived to see the same scene on the camera; TSA agents checking people in. A review of the cameras showed no anomalies. Only a swinging door one minute into the freeze. Interviewed people remember Skylar Grey playing and that's it. Eventually, TSA closed the checkpoint to review the cameras themselves. By that time, everyone happened to be in flight.

Tom stared into the deep blue leather seat back of his first class seat. Gwen, asleep, rested her head on his shoulders while Reagan listened to her mp3 player across the way. Echoing in his mind, Aria's angry screed. "I trusted you and YOU did this. I should have known. That waitresses blood is on your hands now. You remember what that feels like?" Sitting back in coach, he thanked God he couldn't feel her brooding. Yet, he knew she meant what she said. That crashed into Gwen's song choice.

'I'm coming home
I'm coming home
Tell the world I'm coming home
I'm coming home

I'm coming home

Tell the world I'm coming home

Let the rain wash away, all the pain of yesterday

I know my kingdom awaits and they've forgiven my mistakes.'

She knew exactly what she sang and it only made the decision harder. Blowing out an angst filled breath, he caught motion out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly, Reagan knelt before them in the aisle. "You made your choice, didn't you?"

Grimly nodding, he stroked Gwen's flaxen hair. "Yes. Forever, right?"

"I wouldn't lie about something that serious. You and her will be connected forever. This is why a lot of us do embrace surface custom of marriage. It's easier." One of the passengers behind her tried to hide the fact he eavesdropped but remained perplexed as she continued to speak in Assembly.

"5C is listening."

"Unless he knows Assembly, he thinks I'm speaking Pashtun or Hindi. More cultural think its Assyrian." She shot a glance at him reading his New York Times. "Besides with my dark tan and sharp cheeks, I could pass for Pakistani."

"You tan too much." He remarked with a sly grin.

"You brood too much." Glancing around the cabin, she noticed everyone but Fawn, her coach and Aria were in First class. "And way too ostentatious."

A sharp laugh tumbled out. Gwen groaned, shifted off him and leaned back, still asleep. He smirked. "You deserved it. You are as much a High house member as Gwen is. Chelsey deserved it too. Hell, If I could have got Fawn in, I would."

"Where exactly is Kevin?"

Chelsey piped up. "On a American flight to New Orleans. This plane is too small for him. He has to fly first class because the seats are too small. So I take it, it's on to the tavern and then home?"

Tom signed. "No. Tavern, Ondine then Home. I am going to wait in Natal Island." The key hanging off his wrist clinked against his armrest. "She just doesn't know it yet."

Reagan rolled her eyes. "Then I guess I am going with her. Otherwise, you two will fight."

Tom grinned. "Thanks."

Once at JFK everything moved swiftly. Tom loaded the bow bedecked duffels, backpacks and suitcases into the trunk of the taxi as Gwen and Aria argued in Assembly. Chelsey stood him shaking her blonde head as she handed him luggage.

"This happen every time?" Tom asked as Gwen's tone grew dark and sharp.

"I don't know. I don't use the Fraunces Tavern gate from Worlds. Reagan?" She glanced over at the young woman, her arms akimbo staring with disgust. "Reagan?!"

"What! Oh..." she answered in English. "As far as I know, no. Then again, I rarely use the gate except to go to Ondine." A sad frown formed. "No gate near Golden Valley."

"Then we need to do something. Tom?" Chelsey asked, worry reflecting as she handed the last bag. Aria's backpack and rolling case still stood beside her.

"What exactly am I going to do?" He sighed.

"What we can't. Both are beneath us. You aren't, as a surface person. Plus you are connected to both." Reagan tilted her head toward Gwen.

Sighing heavily, Tom stepped from behind the vehicle and stared. Venomous bickering continued unabated. Insults flew like sharp quills into a Jell-O mold. "ENOUGH!" rumbled out, provoking silent stare from both. Gwen stalked towards him, mouth twisted in a dark grimace.

"Are we ready?" Her emerald stare chilled his blood as he blew out a breath. "What about..."

"The princess rides alone!" Aria retorted sarcastically. "That's fine. I'll simply upload a video to the song. Then she can write all she wants when she gets to Philadelphia. They will be my songs."

Chelsey pivoted around, her gaze sharp. "Not even the King himself would allow that type of change and you know it."

"He would believe you over me?" She shot back in English.

"If you post the video he would." She sighed, opening the car door. Everyone else did the same, sliding together in the back seat. As the door shut, Gwen looked over the four of them squished together. "At least Fawn didn't have to witness that."

"We still have to deal with her at the gate." Reagan said as she watched her slide away. The cityscape moved by at a quick blur. Gwen shook her head, pulled out her phone and tapped a few numbers on the screen. A folder appeared to which she activated the Assembly emoji app. "Thank you Kevin," she mumbled as she clicked numerous ones in sequence. Tom watched in fascination as an ancient command Lorelei taught him filled the screen. Suddenly, the image of Aria with the two guys appeared. "This is why." She flashed the image to Chelsey and Reagan.

Both grimaced, turning away. "She didn't seriously do that there?" Chelsey asked.

"Yes, she did." Tom's exasperation deepened her grimace. Suddenly, he stifled a laugh. "I can't believe you blackmailed her into hanging back."

Smiling eyes accompanied her nod as she snuggled into him. "If she rides with us or even goes to the gate the same time as us, I show this image to Lee with its appended number. They will last two days if they are lucky."

He watched as the image vanished, replaced with an underwater view. The rest of cab continued in silence.

Proud metallic rose around them as the cab rolled to a stop a few car lengths past the corner of Pearl and Broad street. A squatty red brick building, dwarf amongst men, stood festooned in pitch toned fire escapes. Yet an even shorter building stood proudly sandwiched beside it. On its mansard roof between the two windows flew a Betsy Ross flag. Tom tapped the cabbie's glass and he slid it open, taking the three hundreds with a hidden smile. "Thanks. I rarely get tips from teens."

"We aren't your usual teens. Tell no one you dropped us here. If anyone should ask you took us to the ferry." He pursed his lips, serious gaze connecting to the cabbie's blank one.

"Understood."

Repeating the JFK luggage sequence in reverse before stone semicircle bench beside the Oppenheimer building, Tom and Reagan finished far faster. Gwen sat with Chelsey, heads leaned together and whispering.

Chelsey stood, a sad look on her face. "As much as I would love to go to Ondine with you, Mom and dad expect me back."

"When are you going to tell them the truth?" Gwen asked with Reagan nodding.

"When they decide to tell me I'm adopted. They are both surface and I am full blood. There is no other way. Right, Reagan?"

She nodded. "I have the same situation, only mine is a lower house. It's hard not knowing anything about your real parents."

Looking to Tom, Chelsey frowned then hugged him. "I have a song for you and Gwen."

"What?" Gwen asked surprised.

"The song I sang to Lorelei her final day at Coupe du Monde. '' By Avril Lavigne."

Gwen shivered. A strummed guitar, lush strings and a soaring vocal about love and loyalty enveloped the streetside . No one stood nearby so Gwen reflexively drummed her flingers while Chelsey but remained otherwise stock still.

Tom walked to the corner, examining the mustard brick wall of the Tavern. Same fifteen rectangular windows stared back with people staring out them. Chill seeped down his spine as memories of the place and Lorelei rushed back. Steeping back over and taking Gwen's hand, he saw her weeping. In his hand, Reagan stuffed a bespoke verdant handkerchief. Turning to Gwen, he embraced her, dabbing her eyes.

As a cluster of disturbed butterflies fleeing, the song faded into the mid-afternoon blue. "We will get through this together." Chelsey smiled warmly.

Only Gwen remained silent, leaning into Tom. "We need to enter soon. I have you, OK."

Snapping up, her eyes a glittery mess, she stared into him. "I CAN DO THIS." The softness of the volume betrayed the power of the words. Yet Tom didn't let go. His hand remained firmly attached to hers as they rounded the corner to the main entrance. The brick turned ruddy and a window vanished. In its place, a door resting inside a colonnade. Four short steps let up to it.

Tom snorted, stifling a laugh. Reagan looked to him as did Chelsey who still followed them.

"What?" she asked, annoyed.

"I remembered my reaction to this place when Lorelei first brought us. I said, 'How can a simple tavern hide a gate of that importance?' Her response: 'You underestimate the power of us and alcohol to mask things in plain sight.'

Chelsey shook her head, holding in a laugh. 'Sounds like her. I must go or I'll miss the ferry home."

Tom blinked, blowing out a sigh. "You parked in that parking lot too. Of course you did."

"We all miss her. Things will get better." She leaned in and hugged him, hugged Reagan and turned to Gwen. She stared at her, distant and blank. "Are you positive you can't?"

"Absolutely. I have no way to explain the extra day. I'm fortunate they weren't waiting at JFK. They think of me as a 15 yr. old girl not a mermaid of a lower house. Boils, I'm only allowed to drive because I got an early license. I got that license because I tranced the DMV into giving it to me."

Gwen sighed. "Then may your waters be warm and full of life, Chelsey Reule of House Revon." A wan smile crept on as she hugged her.

"May your waters be warm and full of life, Your Royal Highness, Lady Gwendolyn Breton Cetus of House Cetus." Chelsey said before entering another cab that had just pulled up to the Indian restaurant next door.

Reagan frowned. "I would love something to eat first."

"We can get something inside." Gwen remarked as the taxi drove off down Pearl. With that she opened the mustard doors to the first spacious room where a hostess stood in a light blue stay, laced in the back. The white gown underneath stopped at her ankles but caught in her flats of which she plucked the hem out when they entered.

"Three for lunch?" she said blankly.

"Salus muros tuos. Portas tuas laudatos," Gwen said to her, stopping her from grabbing menus. Reagan grabbed a menu herself, walking further inward. Woody smoke from grilling steaks mixing with amber lager drifted around them as the hostess stared suddenly attentive.

"You need access?"

"Yes but we also need something to eat." Gwen responded. "Can we get to go?"

She frowned, glancing over the crowd waiting everywhere. "Yes, I can do that. How soon do you need it?"

Reagan reappeared holding a black liquid in a lager pint glass. Tom snorted. "I have a hundred for each item you can grab. Three entrees. Seafood preferable." He showed the remaining roll of hundreds thick a ho-ho. The hostess coughed and carrying the menus walked them over to the bar where she grabbed a large ring of ancient metal keys. Walking back over to the stairwell left of the entrance, she pushed open a door beside it. Darkness enveloped them for the moment until she hit a switch illuminating the musty, damp hall with soft yellowish cast. Unlike the rustic charm of above the sloping downward hall was stark mustard brick, dusted with mold and spotted occasionally with early 20th century Edison outlets. The two lights above held a similar period feel if dusty and worn. After a minute of walking inward, a massive iron door stood before them. Pushing the key into the hole, she turned it and it creaked open.

Tom looked at the hostess then at the lock and shook his head. "The door is never locked, is it?"

She sighed. "Hasn't been since the tavern's been renovated. The lock is actually gone. This is all symbolism. How'd you know?"

"Been here before. My uncle is Emmett Cetus, know him?" Gwen chirped. The hostess groaned. "I'll go get your food."

Pushing past the door, they greeted a fifteen foot by 3 foot room with various cardboard boxes resting on shelves along the walls. At the back wall there stood a hand print in the center blended into the yellowish brick. Reagan walked over to the hand print, tracing it with her finger. "Always amused by the places we hide things," She commented without looking back. "Where's the button pad?"

Tom looked to Gwen who was pulling a scorpion while singing 'This is my chance' by White Rhinos. "Should be next to the hand print."

Reagan sat down the empty glass and moved the box of Heinz Ketchup pouches down an level. There it shined in all its metallic glory. Looking a lot like an ATM keypad with ornate swoops and scraped on each silvery button, Reagan keyed the standard seven touch sequence.

"It won't work that way." Chelsey stood behind them all, holding several mustard toned bags bearing a revolutionary war soldier standing guard with 'Fraunces Tavern' beneath it'

Gwen snapped out of her song, grinning suddenly. "How?"

"Parents were waiting at the Ferry. They figured out how I get home." She shrugged. "So I convinced them to eat here. Dad's a big Revolutionary war buff anyway. And I saw the hostess open the doorway with these bags so I figured it had to be you. Who else would be here?"

Gwen hugged her and took the bags. "Can you--"

She shook her head. "No. But I can open the door. Why can't you?" She looked to Reagan.

"I keyed the right sequence." She stepped back. Chelsey stepped up, looked at the keys and sighed. "I have to reset the pad because the cover wasn't closed last time."

"Aria!" Tom and Gwen said at the same time. Reagan hung her head. "She's that bad?"

"Not always," Tom said more upbeat. All it got was a frustrated stare from Gwen.

Chelsey focused momentarily and out popped 'Alan's Song' from Sailor Moon R via pan flute. As the brief flutter of notes ended, what sounded like bubbles rising en masse echoed from the pad. Seconds later, soft shaking caressed the floor as the wall lumbered into a recess revealing an opening the width of the room. Chelsey stepped aside, smiling. "I want to go with you so much. I can't. The hostess told my fam that I'm in the bathroom so unless I get back soon there will be questions."

Gwen nodded. "Understood." She hugged her again. "See you soon."

"Oh, I almost forgot. Give this to Reagan." A message tube came from her beige purse.

"OK."

Gwen smiled at he as the wall closed. Chelsey's mother's voice snuck through at the final seconds asking why she was in the storage room. Shaking her head, Gwen walked on, guided by short fat illumination crystals bluish white in their harshness. This hall seemed much longer.

"Where are we now?" Reagan asked.

"In the subway tunnels. This area was sealed off and never recorded. The gate is over there on the tracks." Tom smiled, pointing at a square doorframe complete with hinges jade with age.

"Where's the door that went there?" She asked as they all passed through.

Gwen laughed, the dark cast vanishing for the moment. "From what I was told, the door vanished in the 1920s because MTA discovered it. They discovered this entire room and the gate. The person who found it, locked it from the other side hoping to seal us in. They never expected the door to be symbolic."

All around now was self-supporting Guastavino ceiling tiles, mustard and blood sparkling under soft, mellow, golden light. On the arch closest to Gwen, stylish swoops and curves danced above the Latin phrase 'Salus muros tuos.' Along the opposite wall ran the subway track running in its debris free trough still shining after the century of time. Beyond that, the room seemed empty.

"Where's the gate?' Reagan asked again, brow furrowed.

"You've never been here?" Gwen asked surprised. "All this time, you've never been through this gate?"

"Always used the California one." She shrugged as Gwen rolled her eyes.

"There's one in California?" Tom announced surprised and a bit amused.

"It's roving and made to look like a Stargate prop. Currently in a warehouse in Long beach." Reagan nodded enthusiastically. Gwen looked horrified. "The Egyptian gate is in a prop warehouse."

Reagan glared. "It's available. Dad has business in LA and he knows the owner of the warehouse. So I use it. Where is this one?"

Tom walked over to her and pointing at the last arch. It had squared off against what appeared to be an empty wall shrouded in darkness.

Gwen walked a few steps to the tracks edge. Pulling the grey sack off what had appeared as a formless pile revealed a cherry red and verdant green sloped pedestal with a two rings of tappable keys on its top cornice. A pearlesque sphere embedded itself halfway inside the center of the innermost ring. The keys themselves were blank except for stylish slashes, scraps and curls. As she began to tap the keys, the bubbling sound from before echoed in the silent chamber.

Suddenly, the massive almost ceiling to floor fluted bowl of the same stony reddish green metal glowed from within. The last third of the bowl appeared missing, seemingly cut away. Another much thinner ring rested inside of it, a band of spiraled ebony and ochre linking the two rings. The inner ring held raised etchings matching the keys in no discernible order separated by carved lines. The rings sat vertical on a platform with two separate antenna sprouting down and behind the rings horizon. Massive, banded, sparkling cables connected the ring system to the pedestal. Strip lights would fall onto individual symbols; the inner ring rotating to match as she continued to strike the keys.

Above the bowl system itself danced more scrapes of Assembly and 'Portas tuas laudatos'. On the track wall spoke 'Condignus ecce agnus'.

"Time to go. Aria should be here by now. If I know her she ran into Chelsey and got even more pissed."

Tom chuckled, smiling as his eyes bounced from phrase to phrase. Reagan mumbled them under her breath. "The Long Beach gate doesn't have "Your walls are salvation, your gates are praise. Worthy is the lamb."

Gwen shook her head. "I wouldn't expect it would. However there is an empty room in Petra that most likely does." Pounding the sphere with her palm, it illuminated, followed by a long, low engine starting sound. Then a huge burst of bubbly blue-white energetic foam exploded from the center, lighting up the entire room and the rails. In the far opposite distance an ancient subway car blocked the way. Reagan shook her head as she and Gwen ran for the gate.

Tom caught Gwen right before she entered, kissing her briefly. "You are my heaven. Ron Pope – a drop in the ocean." Releasing her hand, he watched as she passed to the bluish watery event horizon and sighed.

"It's too late to cry. Too broken to move on. And still I can't let you be. Most nights I hardly sleep. Don't take what you don't need from me." Aria sadly sung as she trotted through the opening into the chamber.

"I can't. Aria." Tom said, flipping back up onto the platform.

"No. You won't. You want her. You've always wanted her." The punctuated enunciation came out low and hissing as her gaze bored into him. "How did you convince Chelsey to stay?"

"I didn't. She did. That doesn't matter. What are you afraid of?" he asked honestly, abet sadly.

The silence lingered as she stabbed the buttons on the pedestal in a different order than Gwen did. The Gate ramped up again producing another bubbly burst of watery light. "Time to go."

"After you." Tom waved, remaining on the concrete platform.

Aria shrugged and walked calmly and swiftly to the gate and through. This time Tom folloLoud slamming jolted Tom out of bed just before dawn. Glancing at the clock, he shook off sleep and rose. Shuffling to the door with only Nike® pro Combat compression shorts, he leaned on the cream door still in a reverie of sorts before throwing it open. Darkness suffused with fluorescent lights, a metal lined concrete walkway and massive football helmets he expected to greet him as they wont every day since he checked in.

Instead, Coach Sylvan's office stared back. The Stairmaster®, the metal desk with name placard and cranberry stationary covering it. The west wall trophy case, burnished rich sepia, standing proud and packed to the gills. Old analog TV in the corner still warm from recent use. Soft cranberry leather chairs with the 4 initials of the school on their back. Dented file cabinets covered in trophies, and ribbons. The overflowing billboard of notes and pictures of a highly successful sideline cheerleading coach decorated the walls. Tiny banners hung from the ceiling. Everything cranberry and cream suffused with morning's golden light.

Rich brown leather chair faced the back wall, a tall thick necked woman with a tightly cropped mane of ruddy maize barely masking a tattoo of the marine shield with 'Pain is weakness leaving the body' resting in it. She leaned forward exposing the tattoo more as Tom stepped in.

Silent minutes after, Lorelei, still in her Shooting Stars uniform and jacket. ran in. "Coach?"

Sylvan looked up, her worn expression brightened. "What can I do for you, Lorelei?"

"I came to--" fell out before a hogshead barrel sized imp, pig faced with thick jowls stormed in. Brandishing a Glock®17, he cast blank stares around, focusing on Sylvan. "Foul Assembly woman, be gone!"

His arm jerked as a thunderclap shook the room. Blood splattered across the trophy case behind as her lifeless head cracked against the glass, rouge and grey oozing from the wound along her hair line.

Lorelei stood frozen as the man turned, aimed and fired. Tom dove at him, the bullet gouging the flesh above his right obliques. Turning away, the man felt Tom's thick muscular fist slam the back of his head causing a stumble. Tom rolled the imp up banging the shooting arm just enough that when he fired, the bullet entered his mouth rather that over his shoulder like he intended. Sticky gore spattered everything, drenching the floor and bulletin board.

Lorelei stood shaking, barely breathing as gray chunks, and viscous bloody fluids dripped and fell from her strawberry blonde hair, masking her band of copious nose freckles. Tears ran from her eyes.

Shoving the now dead and partially decapitated man off him, he shoved the gun into the corpse's mouth before rising.

Lorelei exhaled, pivoting and stepping from the pooling blood. "Why are you here?"

"I couldn't let you die. Not like this. I would never forgive myself." He pulled a hanky out of the dead man's pocket, wiping her face and hair gently. Stinging radiated across his torso, like a bad sunburn. She pointed at the growing stain on his Forest Hills Beavers swim team t-shirt.

"You were hit."

"I'm fine." He smiled beneath the grimace, continuing to wipe the blood and other fluids from her with a towel from the chair. Pink specks had settled, staining the jacket even after several wipes. Her white Nfinity® shoes were half crimson now. "I'm here and I won't let you go, no matter what."

"That wasn't supposed to happen. You aren't supposed to be here. I..." More tears flooded down as she crumpled into his arms. "She needs you far more than I do. I..." Heavy weeping crushed the remaining words as he cradled her.

"Don't go. I need you. Your House needs you. Coupe du Monde needs you. The Assembly needs you." Small strokes along her cheeks stifled the sobs as the aroma of death began to saturate their air. Coughing, Tom inhaled deep.

Before him, a cold concrete walkway's buzzy fluorescent lights struggled against a fitful dawn. The other hotel building stood proudly across the faux football field, goal posts at each end. "Why did you let go?" he mumbled as he knelt from his crouched position; pooled tears beneath splattering. Rubbing the scar, he sighed. "I'm doing this for you, Lorelei. I can't let her suffer like you did. I can't see the heartbreak and utter horror like that night. We all love you so much. We miss you so terribly."

Reagan paused before him, kneeling down. She wore the same bikini as before, only damp. Aroma of fish and wet algae rose, wrinkling his nose. He glanced up, rose in his cheeks.

"I'm fine," he snapped before realizing who she was.

"I doubt it. Still, I understand." She stared at the scalloped scar, its wrinkles different from the cut abs and obliques. "Did you tell her?"

"Tell her what? I went to save her sister and failed. You know hard it was to convince the police Coach Delamort committed suicide. It's like they knew I shot him even though he held the gun." He grimaced, tears pooling again. "Regardless of that, she died that night. Her body lived five more days. Gwen thought I was being a good friend. Such good friend I was." He wiped his eyes with his arm, sighing heavily.

"Then a week later, she gets sick. It was almost too much for her family to take. I had to intervene. Now I am here. Never expected to don a cheerleading uniform and perform a routine that won them first place in their division."

"Grand Champion." Reagan knelt beside him. "You love her even though you never say it. She loves you too even though she acts like she doesn't. It's in her eyes and the way she treats you. You didn't fail, you just didn't win."

"I needed to."

She shook her head. "No. Things are set for a reason. You will know soon enough." Leaning to give him a hug, she noticed a roundel tattoo peeking out his waistband: a white Maltese cross on red. "What's that?"

"It's my father's crest. He always had one with him. Google says it's the symbol of the Sovereign Military Order of Malta. I think he was a part of that at one time. I have it to remember him. My uncle got it for me after her shooting."

Reagan's eyes blazed with delight and amusement as she hugged him. "Sometimes, I swear you are so much a part of us, I want to bond with you myself." Stepping back, she turned into the dawning sun. "Time to head home. Be confident. You won't fail. Wear your ring. You earned it."

Pulling himself up, he marveled at her. "Sometimes I wish I was free of this too. Life would be easier."

"Easier would be staying in Detroit and never taking that ride on the midnight train." She said, hands on hips. "She told me how you charmed her that night you met. You gave her the strength to do what she needed to."

"See you on the bus, Reagan." He said grim as he opened the hotel door. Darkness stared at him.

"At least tell her." Reagan continued, a sigh echoing.

"You think I haven't?" He commented without turning back. "Yesterday is as close as I have ever gotten with her. The cost? Walking headlong into Aria's fury. I don't know what happens next because the path before me reeks of spilled blood. "

Silence reigned as Tom stared into the yawning darkness for a seeming eternity before taking a step.

"Wait!" Reagan yelped.

"I thought you left," Tom wheeled around, surprise masking his exhaustion.

Switching to Assembly, she blew a low pitched wheeze, a dark sound conveying a deep unsettling statement ahead. "You need to bond with her."

His demeanor slumped more. "That would violate her right to choose. I can't do that."

"Sometimes I swear you are a fool. She already chose you." Reagan glared, hands now akimbo. "Why do you think she wouldn't kiss you while in true form. Its permanent, irrevocable and everlasting. She doesn't possess the strength to fight Aria alone. Neither do you."

"You can?" Tom said softly, grit and disbelief in his voice.

"No. I can't. She's the favorite daughter beneath the waves. They don't realize how dangerous that choice is."

Tom walked to the railing, and pivoted. The light cast his frustrated mask into an obscene horror archetype. "So she'll get away with it?"

"If you let her. If you wait for Gwen to bond with you of her own volition, you are letting Aria win. You are letting her steal that Christina the waitresses' golden ticket and her better life with it."

"If I bond with her through deceit or manipulation, then not only am I no better than Aria, Gwen will lose all respect and trust with me."

"No, she won't." Chocolate hair swished as her head shook back and forth. "It's a bond. Not a date or a surface relationship. She loves you. Here," She stabbed him with her finger in the chest above his heart. "She's afraid it will change things. All that you went through with Lorelei and you never thought that?"

He snorted, sighing again. No smile, just a flat line his lips made. "Of course. I know it would, and I accept that, I respect her so I wouldn't do it."

Folding her arms under her bust again, she grimaced. "I've seen Aria's rage. No she won't hurt you or Gwen but she will destroy that woman and anyone else in her path. Before you say no again, go check the requirements for becoming King or Queen. Think about it. How much do you want Gwen to succeed?"

"There is no other way?"

"Good morning." Turning away, she stalked off.

As her footfalls faded into the silence, he stared into the night. No matter what I choice, someone gets hurt. Why do I always get stuck making the choice?

Gwen groaned as she dragged her luggage through Orlando International's Atrium. Finding a comfortable bench beside a tall yet prickly palm tree, she passed out hugs as everyone in the squad passed by, heading towards the B side and home. Yet she wasn't headed to Lafayette directly. She never did. Her and Aria always flew to NYC and used one of the numerous hidden Assembly gates to get back. Considering there were no direct flights to Lafayette, it actually saved time.

However, today was different. Still going to JFK but instead of dialing home when they reached Fraunces Tavern, she would dial Natal island; the gate that lead to Ondine, the underwater capital of Cetacea; the place all members of the Assembly call home. Aria was supposed to wait behind and go with Tom.

Trailing behind her, he halted just beside, his demeanor remained prickly as well. "I should be going with you."

"No!" She barked. "We've been over this. You can't swim the distance and float on the surface. You will attract too much attention. There is not enough time to turn you even if Aria accelerated the process." Humming to herself Sia's 'Chandelier' she groaned.

He pulled out his phone, texting Aria. Walking towards him, a margarita in one hand and her phone in the other, she looked up. "Sometimes healing can be a benefit."

Gwen stopped humming. She closed her eyes and whispered, "Won't look down, won't open my eyes." Opening them, she commented, "Tell me that isn't alcohol."

Dour, Aria retorted. "It's not. Not that it would matter." She looked over Tom dressed in his standard blue jeans and Pistons T-shirt. "Don't even think of it. I owe you," hissed out.

"More than you know," he snarked back. Gwen sighed again, looked around and listened. Reagan was still at the curb because her bus left late. Her coach thinks it's a bad idea to split up but considering that her father is the reason they exist; he's open to her travelling with a different squad. Chelsey is at security but not in a line. She's waiting for someone: us.

"Oh, that's perfect." Gwen fake grinned, then turned to Aria. "Why do you have a virgin margarita?"

"The salt. Isn't it obvious." She noticed that Gwen suddenly held a dark smile in place of her brooding. "What are you planning?"

Gwen shrugged, snorting derisively. "They are not patting me down again."

"What happened last time?" Tom asked hesitantly.

Aria sighed, staring at Gwen. "Well?" She stared off into the west security area, singing 'Chandelier' again. "Gwen, you will attract too much attention if do."

With her sweetest, fierce grin, she rose. "Walk through security without having to empty things and take off shoes while everyone is tranced? Yes, I can't because I need to be in true form. Also the cameras. I have a different plan. Cloak. I can do that. So can Chelsey."

Tom paused a second and then zeroed in on Aria. "You're on board?"

"As soon as Kevin arrives." She pointed to the tell-tale thump of his arrival. Behind him walked Reagan who seemed thoughtful.

"I am wondering if 'Coming Home part 2' is more appropriate to the situation at hand."

Aria bristled but looked back and caught Reagan. In a rapid burst of Assembly, she told what Gwen planned. Reagan nodded, a small smirk formed. "That should be interesting. All of us or just you two?"

Tom saw her and shook his head. "Seriously?"

"Tom, people have no clue what we can truly do together. However, there isn't that many of us." She pointed across the atrium towards western checkpoint. "Too many of them."

He nodded his head. "Two checkpoints. Standard security cameras are soundless. They will still come."

Kevin chuckled. "Not if there is nothing to come for." He held a black flip phone up. "Virgin Mobile phone. Not traceable. Call the PA number and it goes airport wide. Even the TSA office will hear it. The cameras record nothing because they walk into a non-camera location and come out cloaked. The length of the song to do it. Me, I get the pat down regardless. I don't care either."

Gwen exhaled, her grin faded into a determined flat line. "I CAN do this. 'Coming Home part 2' by Skylar Grey' first then Invisible. That's six minutes."

Aria sat the empty glass next to a square potted palm tree, her face petulant. "So that's the price?!"

Reagan wheeled on her. "The price for what? You have a ring and a jacket. You won. Quit whining."

Tom caught Aria's expression harden then noticed Reagan and Gwen glance among themselves ever so briefly. "Can we all work together? I figure with the five of us--"

"I thought Fawn took an earlier flight with the rest of the Wildcats," Aria asked aloud to no one particular.

"That's where you are wrong," Fawn said in assembly walking around the palm tree. "Hi everyone." She said loudly in English. "Me and Coach gave up our seats to an elderly couple who missed theirs so they could make it home." She pointed to the tall, thin man in jeans and t-shirt emblazoned with the Cheer Athletics logo on the front. "Next available flight is yours."

"New York is out of the way, isn't it?" Kevin asked, his brow furrowed.

Everyone except Tom glared at him. Tom chuckled and shook his head. "I assure you, it's not."

Gwen glanced at the coach's agitated nature. Whispering, "He didn't want to do this?"

"Not go back through security. I told him you all were here. He believes we are going together."

"We are, to NYC anyway. You aware of the 'siren's cloak'?"

Fawn nodded. In Assembly, she whispered. "It's not been done on the surface in a long time."

"Follow my lead." Looking back at everyone, she waved and staring walking toward the Coach and the western security checkpoint. Entering the center queue, Gwen scanned again for Chelsey. She stood against a wall near where the handicapped people were being scanned. "Kevin. Chelsey is near where you get checked. I want you to say this to her then go through yourself. We need you to create the opening so we can walk through that area." She spoke a phrase in Assembly, slowly and clearly. "Understand?"

"Yes," He nodded, a delight smile on his face.

"Repeat it then."

He did, she nodded and shooed him off to inform her. As she watched him shuffle, Tom asked, "What's going to happen?"

"I'm coming home." Gwen sang for a second. Aria looked at her sharply, groaned and nodded., waving everyone forward. Gwen started singing Skylar Grey's 'Coming Home part II' suddenly casting a wave of peace and silence over the people before her.

People milled about. Business man with rolling luggage slipped by. Tourists bedecked in relaxed garments stood with shoulder bags ensconced. TSA agents walked behind them scanning the area like hawks. Suddenly, everyone glanced around as she approached, then froze. The PA stopped its reminders about parking. Gwen fluidly moved through the handicapped doors into the main area of the checkpoint and on through the screening area, holding hands with Tom. He carried his own carryon around his chest as he held Aria's hand. Reagan held her hand and Fawn's. Fawn held Chelsey who sang the song as well in time with Gwen.

To those in the silent booth monitoring the cameras, it appeared everyone stopped for six minutes with only a door moving. Agents were dispatched immediately. They arrived to see the same scene on the camera; TSA agents checking people in. A review of the cameras showed no anomalies. Only a swinging door one minute into the freeze. Interviewed people remember Skylar Grey playing and that's it. Eventually, TSA closed the checkpoint to review the cameras themselves. By that time, everyone happened to be in flight.

Tom stared into the deep blue leather seat back of his first class seat. Gwen, asleep, rested her head on his shoulders while Reagan listened to her mp3 player across the way. Echoing in his mind, Aria's angry screed. "I trusted you and YOU did this. I should have known. That waitresses blood is on your hands now. You remember what that feels like?" Sitting back in coach, he thanked God he couldn't feel her brooding. Yet, he knew she meant what she said. That crashed into Gwen's song choice.

'I'm coming home

I'm coming home

Tell the world I'm coming home

I'm coming home

I'm coming home

Tell the world I'm coming home

Let the rain wash away, all the pain of yesterday

I know my kingdom awaits and they've forgiven my mistakes.'

She knew exactly what she sang and it only made the decision harder. Blowing out an angst filled breath, he caught motion out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly, Reagan knelt before them in the aisle. "You made your choice, didn't you?"

Grimly nodding, he stroked Gwen's flaxen hair. "Yes. Forever, right?"

"I wouldn't lie about something that serious. You and her will be connected forever. This is why a lot of us do embrace surface custom of marriage. It's easier." One of the passengers behind her tried to hide the fact he eavesdropped but remained perplexed as she continued to speak in Assembly.

"5C is listening."

"Unless he knows Assembly, he thinks I'm speaking Pashtun or Hindi. More cultural think its Assyrian." She shot a glance at him reading his New York Times. "Besides with my dark tan and sharp cheeks, I could pass for Pakistani."

"You tan too much." He remarked with a sly grin.

"You brood too much." Glancing around the cabin, she noticed everyone but Fawn, her coach and Aria were in First class. "And way too ostentatious."

A sharp laugh tumbled out. Gwen groaned, shifted off him and leaned back, still asleep. He smirked. "You deserved it. You are as much a High house member as Gwen is. Chelsey deserved it too. Hell, If I could have got Fawn in, I would."

"Where exactly is Kevin?"

Chelsey piped up. "On a American flight to New Orleans. This plane is too small for him. He has to fly first class because the seats are too small. So I take it, it's on to the tavern and then home?"

Tom signed. "No. Tavern, Ondine then Home. I am going to wait in Natal Island." The key hanging off his wrist clinked against his armrest. "She just doesn't know it yet."

Reagan rolled her eyes. "Then I guess I am going with her. Otherwise, you two will fight."

Tom grinned. "Thanks."

Once at JFK everything moved swiftly. Tom loaded the bow bedecked duffels, backpacks and suitcases into the trunk of the taxi as Gwen and Aria argued in Assembly. Chelsey stood him shaking her blonde head as she handed him luggage.

"This happen every time?" Tom asked as Gwen's tone grew dark and sharp.

"I don't know. I don't use the Fraunces Tavern gate from Worlds. Reagan?" She glanced over at the young woman, her arms akimbo staring with disgust. "Reagan?!"

"What! Oh..." she answered in English. "As far as I know, no. Then again, I rarely use the gate except to go to Ondine." A sad frown formed. "No gate near Golden Valley."

"Then we need to do something. Tom?" Chelsey asked, worry reflecting as she handed the last bag. Aria's backpack and rolling case still stood beside her.

"What exactly am I going to do?" He sighed.

"What we can't. Both are beneath us. You aren't, as a surface person. Plus you are connected to both." Reagan tilted her head toward Gwen.

Sighing heavily, Tom stepped from behind the vehicle and stared. Venomous bickering continued unabated. Insults flew like sharp quills into a Jell-O mold. "ENOUGH!" rumbled out, provoking silent stare from both. Gwen stalked towards him, mouth twisted in a dark grimace.

"Are we ready?" Her emerald stare chilled his blood as he blew out a breath. "What about..."

"The princess rides alone!" Aria retorted sarcastically. "That's fine. I'll simply upload a video to the song. Then she can write all she wants when she gets to Philadelphia. They will be my songs."

Chelsey pivoted around, her gaze sharp. "Not even the King himself would allow that type of change and you know it."

"He would believe you over me?" She shot back in English.

"If you post the video he would." She sighed, opening the car door. Everyone else did the same, sliding together in the back seat. As the door shut, Gwen looked over the four of them squished together. "At least Fawn didn't have to witness that."

"We still have to deal with her at the gate." Reagan said as she watched her slide away. The cityscape moved by at a quick blur. Gwen shook her head, pulled out her phone and tapped a few numbers on the screen. A folder appeared to which she activated the Assembly emoji app. "Thank you Kevin," she mumbled as she clicked numerous ones in sequence. Tom watched in fascination as an ancient command Lorelei taught him filled the screen. Suddenly, the image of Aria with the two guys appeared. "This is why." She flashed the image to Chelsey and Reagan.

Both grimaced, turning away. "She didn't seriously do that there?" Chelsey asked.

"Yes, she did." Tom's exasperation deepened her grimace. Suddenly, he stifled a laugh. "I can't believe you blackmailed her into hanging back."

Smiling eyes accompanied her nod as she snuggled into him. "If she rides with us or even goes to the gate the same time as us, I show this image to Lee with its appended number. They will last two days if they are lucky."

He watched as the image vanished, replaced with an underwater view. The rest of cab continued in silence.

Proud metallic rose around them as the cab rolled to a stop a few car lengths past the corner of Pearl and Broad street. A squatty red brick building, dwarf amongst men, stood festooned in pitch toned fire escapes. Yet an even shorter building stood proudly sandwiched beside it. On its mansard roof between the two windows flew a Betsy Ross flag. Tom tapped the cabbie's glass and he slid it open, taking the three hundreds with a hidden smile. "Thanks. I rarely get tips from teens."

"We aren't your usual teens. Tell no one you dropped us here. If anyone should ask you took us to the ferry." He pursed his lips, serious gaze connecting to the cabbie's blank one.

"Understood."

Repeating the JFK luggage sequence in reverse before stone semicircle bench beside the Oppenheimer building, Tom and Reagan finished far faster. Gwen sat with Chelsey, heads leaned together and whispering.

Chelsey stood, a sad look on her face. "As much as I would love to go to Ondine with you, Mom and dad expect me back."

"When are you going to tell them the truth?" Gwen asked with Reagan nodding.

"When they decide to tell me I'm adopted. They are both surface and I am full blood. There is no other way. Right, Reagan?"

She nodded. "I have the same situation, only mine is a lower house. It's hard not knowing anything about your real parents."

Looking to Tom, Chelsey frowned then hugged him. "I have a song for you and Gwen."

"What?" Gwen asked surprised.

"The song I sang to Lorelei her final day at Coupe du Monde. 'Keep Holding On' By Avril Lavigne."

Gwen shivered. A strummed guitar, lush strings and a soaring vocal about love and loyalty enveloped the streetside . No one stood nearby so Gwen reflexively drummed her flingers while Chelsey but remained otherwise stock still.

Tom walked to the corner, examining the mustard brick wall of the Tavern. Same fifteen rectangular windows stared back with people staring out them. Chill seeped down his spine as memories of the place and Lorelei rushed back. Steeping back over and taking Gwen's hand, he saw her weeping. In his hand, Reagan stuffed a bespoke verdant handkerchief. Turning to Gwen, he embraced her, dabbing her eyes.

As a cluster of disturbed butterflies fleeing, the song faded into the mid-afternoon blue. "We will get through this together." Chelsey smiled warmly.

Only Gwen remained silent, leaning into Tom. "We need to enter soon. I have you, OK."

Snapping up, her eyes a glittery mess, she stared into him. "I CAN DO THIS." The softness of the volume betrayed the power of the words. Yet Tom didn't let go. His hand remained firmly attached to hers as they rounded the corner to the main entrance. The brick turned ruddy and a window vanished. In its place, a door resting inside a colonnade. Four short steps let up to it.

Tom snorted, stifling a laugh. Reagan looked to him as did Chelsey who still followed them.

"What?" she asked, annoyed.

"I remembered my reaction to this place when Lorelei first brought us. I said, 'How can a simple tavern hide a gate of that importance?' Her response: 'You underestimate the power of us and alcohol to mask things in plain sight.'

Chelsey shook her head, holding in a laugh. 'Sounds like her. I must go or I'll miss the ferry home."

Tom blinked, blowing out a sigh. "You parked in that parking lot too. Of course you did."

"We all miss her. Things will get better." She leaned in and hugged him, hugged Reagan and turned to Gwen. She stared at her, distant and blank. "Are you positive you can't?"

"Absolutely. I have no way to explain the extra day. I'm fortunate they weren't waiting at JFK. They think of me as a 15 yr. old girl not a mermaid of a lower house. Boils, I'm only allowed to drive because I got an early license. I got that license because I tranced the DMV into giving it to me."

Gwen sighed. "Then may your waters be warm and full of life, Chelsey Reule of House Revon." A wan smile crept on as she hugged her.

"May your waters be warm and full of life, Your Royal Highness, Lady Gwendolyn Breton Cetus of House Cetus." Chelsey said before entering another cab that had just pulled up to the Indian restaurant next door.

Reagan frowned. "I would love something to eat first."

"We can get something inside." Gwen remarked as the taxi drove off down Pearl. With that she opened the mustard doors to the first spacious room where a hostess stood in a light blue stay, laced in the back. The white gown underneath stopped at her ankles but caught in her flats of which she plucked the hem out when they entered.

"Three for lunch?" she said blankly.

"Salus muros tuos. Portas tuas laudatos," Gwen said to her, stopping her from grabbing menus. Reagan grabbed a menu herself, walking further inward. Woody smoke from grilling steaks mixing with amber lager drifted around them as the hostess stared suddenly attentive.

"You need access?"

"Yes but we also need something to eat." Gwen responded . "Can we get to go?"

She frowned, glancing over the crowd waiting everywhere. "Yes, I can do that. How soon do you need it?"

Reagan reappeared holding a black liquid in a lager pint glass. Tom snorted. "I have a hundred for each item you can grab. Three entrees. Seafood preferable." He showed the remaining roll of hundreds thick a ho-ho. The hostess coughed and carrying the menus walked them over to the bar where she grabbed a large ring of ancient metal keys. Walking back over to the stairwell left of the entrance, she pushed open a door beside it. Darkness enveloped them for the moment until she hit a switch illuminating the musty, damp hall with soft yellowish cast. Unlike the rustic charm of above the sloping downward hall was stark mustard brick, dusted with mold and spotted occasionally with early 20th century Edison outlets. The two lights above held a similar period feel if dusty and worn. After a minute of walking inward, a massive iron door stood before them. Pushing the key into the hole, she turned it and it creaked open.

Tom looked at the hostess then at the lock and shook his head. "The door is never locked, is it?"

She sighed. "Hasn't been since the tavern's been renovated. The lock is actually gone. This is all symbolism. How'd you know?"

"Been here before. My uncle is Emmett Cetus, know him?" Gwen chirped. The hostess groaned. "I'll go get your food."

Pushing past the door, they greeted a fifteen foot by 3 foot room with various cardboard boxes resting on shelves along the walls. At the back wall there stood a hand print in the center blended into the yellowish brick. Reagan walked over to the hand print, tracing it with her finger. "Always amused by the places we hide things," She commented without looking back. "Where's the button pad?"

Tom looked to Gwen who was pulling a scorpion while singing 'This is my chance' by White Rhinos. "Should be next to the hand print."

Reagan sat down the empty glass and moved the box of Heinz Ketchup pouches down an level. There it shined in all its metallic glory. Looking a lot like an ATM keypad with ornate swoops and scraped on each silvery button, Reagan keyed the standard seven touch sequence.

"It won't work that way." Chelsey stood behind them all, holding several mustard toned bags bearing a revolutionary war soldier standing guard with 'Fraunces Tavern' beneath it'

Gwen snapped out of her song, grinning suddenly. "How?"

"Parents were waiting at the Ferry. They figured out how I get home." She shrugged. "So I convinced them to eat here. Dad's a big Revolutionary war buff anyway. And I saw the hostess open the doorway with these bags so I figured it had to be you. Who else would be here?"

Gwen hugged her and took the bags. "Can you--"

She shook her head. "No. But I can open the door. Why can't you?" She looked to Reagan.

"I keyed the right sequence." She stepped back. Chelsey stepped up, looked at the keys and sighed. "I have to reset the pad because the cover wasn't closed last time."

"Aria!" Tom and Gwen said at the same time. Reagan hung her head. "She's that bad?"

"Not always," Tom said more upbeat. All it got was a frustrated stare from Gwen.

Chelsey focused momentarily and out popped 'Alan's Song' from Sailor Moon R via pan flute. As the brief flutter of notes ended, what sounded like bubbles rising en masse echoed from the pad. Seconds later, soft shaking caressed the floor as the wall lumbered into a recess revealing a room wide opening. Chelsey stepped aside, smiling. "I want to go with you so much. I can't. The hostess told my fam that I'm in the bathroom so unless I get back soon there will be questions."

Gwen nodded. "Understood." She hugged her again. "See you soon."

Reagan and Tom hugged her as well and stepped into the darkness. Chelsey stared wistfully as Gwen turned. Yet as she took that step into the darkness, Chelsey yelled out.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Give this to Reagan." A message tube came from her beige purse.

"OK."

Gwen smiled as the wall closed. Chelsey's mother's voice snuck through at the final seconds asking why she was in the storage room. Shaking her head, Gwen walked on, guided by short fat illumination crystals bluish white in their harshness. This hall seemed much longer.

"Where are we now?" Reagan asked.

"In the subway tunnels. This area was sealed off and never recorded. The gate is over there on the tracks." Tom smiled, pointing at a square doorframe complete with hinges jade with age.

"Where's the door that went there?" She asked as they all passed through.

Gwen laughed, the dark cast vanishing for the moment. "From what I was told, the door appeared during the 1907 renovation to hide the gate. Sometime in the 1920s it got locked. Historians suggest it was IRT. So we removed it."

All around now was self-supporting Guastavino ceiling tiles, mustard and blood sparkling under soft, mellow, golden light. On the arch closest to Gwen, stylish swoops and curves danced above the Latin phrase 'Salus muros tuos.' Along the opposite wall ran the subway track running in its debris free trough, still shining after the century of time. Beyond that, the room seemed empty.

"Where's the gate?' Reagan asked again, brow furrowed.

"You've never been here?" Gwen asked surprised. "All this time, you've never been through this gate?"

"Always used the California one." She shrugged as Gwen rolled her eyes.

"There's one in California?" Tom announced surprised and a bit amused.

"It's roving and made to look like a Stargate prop. Currently in a warehouse in Long beach." Reagan nodded enthusiastically. Gwen looked horrified. "The Egyptian gate is in a prop warehouse."

Reagan stared, her brow furrowed. "It's available. Dad has business in LA and he knows the owner of the warehouse. So I use it. Where is this one?"

"How exactly do you explain its operation?" She asked even more horrified.

"I don't. The security guards and I have a deal. They let me into the warehouse for long stretches of time and I don't tell them about the various scams they pull on tourists and bit actors. I just have them leave a large enough space open before it."

Tom smirked. "What happens when they don't."

This time Reagan sighed, annoyed. "Then Dad talks to the coordinator and reminds him or her that prop needs to be tested occasionally and if restricted, it can damage things."

"So nice to know surface people have seen a gate in operation." Gwen growled under her breath.

"They don't know what it really is. They think it's a prop for Stargate Universe carried over from SG-1. They even built a gate room around it on the set. Of course..." Gwen stared cold, her hand up, index and thumb out.

Reagan bristled, pursing her lips. "It's a backup in LA. The cast and crew are in Vancouver. They won't ever have access to it. Only security, Mark, David and the warehouse coordinator have access to the real one. Look, It wasn't my idea. It was my Dads."

Gwen exhaled, relieved. "That explains Leroy's comment that one night. I'll explain later."

Reagan shrugged. "Whatever. So where is this gate?"

Tom walked over to her and pointing at the last arch. It had squared off against what appeared to be an empty wall shrouded in darkness.

Gwen walked a few steps to the tracks edge. Pulling the grey sack off what had appeared as a formless pile revealed a cherry red and verdant green sloped pedestal with a two rings of tappable keys on its top cornice. A pearlesque sphere embedded itself halfway inside the center of the innermost ring. The keys themselves were blank except for stylish slashes, scraps and curls. As she began to tap the keys, the bubbling sound from before echoed in the silent chamber.

Suddenly, the gate of the same stony reddish green metal glowed. A massive almost floor to ceiling fluted bowl standing on its side, anchored by stone u-clips and fed by gleaming cables. A much thinner ring rested inside the lip, a band of spiraled ebony and ochre. This inner ring held raised etchings matching the keys in no discernible order separated by carved grooves. Behind the ring stood two antennae; a mix of cable, ebony and ochre. Massive, banded, sparkling cables connected the ring system to the pedestal. As she struck the pedestal keys, crystals along the lip illuminated u shaped clips that captured the symbol as it paused beneath. The u then locked over the opening. Once the seventh symbol lit and locked, the gate glowed and hummed awaiting the final activation.

Above the gate itself danced more scrapes of Assembly and 'Portas tuas laudatos'. On the track wall spoke 'Condignus ecce agnus'.

"Time to go. Aria should be here by now. If I know her, she ran into Chelsey and got even more pissed."

Tom chuckled, smiling as his eyes bounced from phrase to phrase. Reagan mumbled them under her breath. "The Long Beach gate doesn't have "Your walls are salvation; your gates are praise. Worthy is the lamb."

Gwen shook her head, hiding her disgust. "I wouldn't expect it would. However, there is an empty room in Petra that most likely does." Pounding the sphere with her palm, it illuminated, followed by a long, low engine starting sound. Then a huge burst of bubbly blue-white energetic foam exploded from the center, lighting up the entire room and the rails. In the far opposite distance an 1920s subway car blocked the way. Reagan shook her head as she and Gwen ran for the gate.

Tom caught Gwen right before she entered, kissing her briefly. "You are my heaven. Ron Pope – a drop in the ocean." Releasing her hand, he watched as she passed to the bluish watery event horizon and sighed.

"It's too late to cry. Too broken to move on. And still I can't let you be. Most nights I hardly sleep. Don't take what you don't need from me." Aria sadly sung as she trotted through the opening into the chamber.

"I can't. Aria." Tom said, flipping back up onto the platform.

"I meant that last line. And no, you won't. You want her. You've always wanted her." The punctuated enunciation came out low and hissing as her gaze bored into him. "How did you convince Chelsey to stay?"

"I didn't. She did. That doesn't matter. What are you afraid of?" he asked honestly, abet sadly.

The silence lingered as she stabbed the buttons on the pedestal in a different order than Gwen did. The Gate ramped up again producing another bubbly burst of watery light. "Time to go."

"After you." Tom waved, remaining on the concrete platform.

Aria shrugged and walked calmly and swiftly to the gate and through. This time Tom followed.

6: Falling from Cloud Nine

Gwen turned from her stellar navigation back to vast midnight blue ocean stretched toward the horizon. Wiping salty water from her eyes, she nodded softly, slick flaxen tresses raining droplets around as she bobbed in warm Coral Sea. Only the gentle ocean breeze shared her wistfulness and frustration. Inhaling the salty tang, she sang out 'Wide Awake'. A wistful sigh exited as the crescent moon crept across the ebony, pinpricked with winking silver motes.

Adjusting her gossamer pareo folds back over her petite bust, another heavy breath rumbled even as her shoulder blade gills fluttered just beneath the surface. Reagan surfaced, curious about the pause.

"Is it wise to approach this late? It's after midnight here."

"It's too late to turn back. The King awaits. We have to tell him about the golden ticket."

Reagan squenched her nose and brow before diving underneath.

Diving back beneath the tide, Gwen's bifurcated vermillion tail breeched one last time. Adjusted to the abject darkness, undulating heat signatures manifested as she tore deeper still. Branch, staghorn and brain coral nestled like confetti as she butterflied through just feet above the white sandy floor. Sparkling clouds of egg stone sand granules swirled each time she paused and scanned for the correct buildings. Flaxen hair cloud masking a coronet of electrum caught the attention of royal guards stationed near gleaming spiral sapphire pillars. Barely visible emerald encrusted armor sparkled in their wan reflection. Halting before the massive guards' outstretched titanium tridents, her gills fluttered rapidly, causing an ache in her collarbone.

"Gwendolyn Cetus," she barked desperate yet commanding. "Reagan Dawn," she said from behind her as she settled beside, her greenish silver pareo blending into the night.

"Your business this late, Lady Gwendolyn?" first guard asked, words emanating from the Tā moko tattoo that consumed his neck, the spirals and blocks perfect reflected matches. His bifurcated tail remained ramrod straight as his trident returned to his side.

"House business," her far more ornately filigreed Tā moko spoke. Ashen brows furrowed as she held his dark eyed gaze. "If I am delayed Lord Tyrian will hear about it."

Nodding, he yielded his position as the other turned away. "It is late. The White council drags long. Otherwise, the sand of sleep would surround them." He paused, shifting his corundum encrusted trident vertical. "May your waters be warm and filled with life, Lady Gwendolyn of House Cetus and Lady Reagan of House Dawn."

Gwen repeated the goodbye, shaking her head as they swam away. Ochre domes camouflaged in undulating golden and orange formed in the distance. Grouped in a spiral, they tightened until there was only a small cluster. Sapphire helix pillars encompassed that gabbro handful of toned salt and pepper. Hexacorals shimmered in the reflected moonlight. Numerous fish swam, feasted and slept.

In the midst of tangled thickets, lay a secret pattern; ordered chaos for who knew. Dark mustard stalks of bottle-brush staghorn coral swarmed with small, protruding round cups fluttered in the flow. They hid an ornate, arched gabbro opening. That opening revealed a long marble hall capped at both ends by two sapphire diamond spirals softly glowing. A whirlpool of small blue fish swam around as she stroked through slowly. Long, slender illumati crystals hid behind the filigreed off-white rose scallop sconces whose warm light vanished the dark. Surface-ward, the overreaching branches glistened in the midnight blue casting an ethereal glow to the hall itself. Above the scallops, swirls, slashes, and shapes flowed in a decorative yet serious ordered pattern. Reagan frowned, pursing her lips.

"The warnings are always so dramatic," she whispered.

Gwen simply stared, shocked, pointing at a shadow near the throne room doors. He had stood, musing a scroll in hand, now turning immediately at Reagan's voice, the fierceness melted away when he recognized them both. "Well. I'll be boiled."

Gwen squinted at the tall, thickly muscled man before her. Switching to visible light, she grinned in relief. Burnished coffee skin accented his round face. Gold and sapphire crown rested on his brow capped by hovering salt and pepper dreads. A golden breastplate, well pitted and dim, extended to his waist save a mesh over his gills. Pauldrons and rerebrace covered his arms. At his waist, flesh became mauve scales covered by a massive greave surrounding his tail. Triangular claws extended out of his fingertips, beige in the fluid light. "Greetings, Your Grace."

He stroked his chin as both spread herself prostrate along the hall. "Lady Gwendolyn of House Cetus, Lady Reagan of House Dawn, welcome. I hoped you would come."

"Your Grace, you were unsure?" Gwen said into the snowy sand floor.

"Rise and face me, both of you." He beckoned, grey eyes filled with concern. "The Sword informed me you were ill to the point you would run out of transfigurations. However, you received the message. Is this your final transfiguration?"

Reagan gulped and responded. "I healed her during our championship so Lady Gwendolyn can meet Your Grace without it being her last."

He beheld Gwen, waiting for her response. "No, Your Grace. This is not my last. It is as Lady Reagan spoke. Nothing would prevent me from meeting with you. Thank you for hearing my plea." She wiped her eyes, tears clouding her nictitating membranes.

"No, thank you for having the courage to challenge your friend; my granddaughter. She is sadly as spoiled as her mother is and will be furious when she discovers becoming princess won't just be handed to her. She must perform the steps like anyone else or suffer the loss." His stern face softened as sadness took hold. "I fear she will repeat my daughter's footsteps when she fails."

Pride stiffed Gwen's back as she adjusted her position. "I won't fail you, Your Grace."

He snorted, amused yet pleased. "Remember, to become my aire, you still need a bondmate and a selfless act. Can you do that in time?"

"I can, Your Grace."

"Her bondmate ascendant awaits her on the surface." Reagan said delightfully, a small smile on her lips. That delight jumped to the King. Gwen quickly masked her shocked horror.

He appraised her, scrubbing his chin again. Her gossamer golden pareo waved in the ebb and flow of currents highlighting her peachy skin and golden tresses. "You understand what I am asking will not be easy. You bear a startling resemblance to the surface depiction of a mermaid. That alone has kept many from the throne."

Gwen nodded. "I need to do this, Your Grace. There is much more at stake than my looks or Aria's treachery."

He nodded, the tips of his tail fin swishing. "What has she done this time?"

Reagan's shocked look amused Gwen who simply furrowed her brows back. Blinking, she pulled a crystalline lotus sheet from a leather pouch hanging off her shoulder. "She stole Tina Petri's golden ticket, Your Grace. In here is all the songs attached to it."

Grimness furrowed his brow. "When?"

"During Worlds, Your Grace." He nodded, taking the sheet. The list revealed multiple albums with over fifty songs on them.

"Your competitive cheerleading championship event?"

Bowing her head, she stared away. Face and shoulders ruddy, she nodded. "Yes, Your Grace. That event is the place."

He pursed his lips in thought, the soft sounds of the schooling fish surrounding them. "That is not an event to be embarrassed at. It takes poise, skill and teamwork. All things that a future princess should possess." Then dark pallor gripped his features. "I only wish those attributes transferred to my granddaughter. So, in your understanding, why?" He spoke cautiously after examining the accompanying crystal and listening to its songs.

"In the course of dealing with a surface boy who broke a vow, I punished him using the ticket. She witnessed it so when she wanted to hear the song again, I repeated it unaware of what she planned."

He beheld her with a keen yet deadly serious look. "You understand the consequences for all the Assembly if you fail. Go and be ready, Lady Gwendolyn of House Cetus. It waits for no one." A flash of wistfulness crossed his craggy features as he stared off into the inky darkness. "We will speak of the Golden ticket when you return with your bond mate." He looked to Reagan, blank faced. "Both the Sword and Lord Apzu say you are using the mobile gate to travel. Why?"

"Your Grace, I find it easier to access than the others." Reagan grinned subtly. The King didn't share that emotion. Instead, disappointment reigned. "That fact you use the synchro crystal to allow access to your trophy room from that gate is dangerous. Understand that. May your waters be warm and filled with life."

Caramel strands billowed as Reagan shook her head, marveling at the sheer beauty of the house. "I'm glad I did come." She smirked.

"I had to come home for a while. Stress of the job, you know." She grinned, eyes sparkling. It fell away when they swam into the main entryway of House Cetus. A school of watchman gobies swam through them, Gwen capturing some with her sharp claws. She devoured them whole while Reagan waited, her eyes clouded, lips frowning.

"Considering all that happened---"

"All that happened?!" reverberated as she chewed, the sharp growl pushing Reagan backwards a bit. She leaned in, restoring herself.

"I came back to get something I'll need on the surface." A rumble exited as she stared at the red marble wall with the White Star Line Pennant Flag carved in and above a hand sized pearl. Looking back at Reagan, she frowned, morose. "Sorry. It's just not how I wanted that to go. I just forgot the rules to become a ruler are far different. Can you help me? We can hang out and sleep off the night before returning. They won't raise the banner until Friday evening anyway."

Reagan frowned. "You want me to go back, don't you?"

'Fragile Tough Girl' by Jo Davidson tumbled out as Gwen stared, nodding. Her face glistened again as the salty tears blended with the sea. Grasping the pearl, Gwen listened as the stone tumblers clicked and creaked. The wall slid to the side, revealing a rotunda ringed with thirteen rouge griotte columns sixty feet tall and five feet thick, capped with longhorn symbols. Directly behind and beside them stood a sandstone pedestal mounted jade bronze cherub holding a torch over its left shoulder. Surrounding the torch, a large, translucent group of silver white crystals about two feet tall with a hexagonal base. Smaller cherubs decorated the walls each holding single crystals over their right shoulders. Most bore torsion damage.

Reagan looked around and then upward toward the rotunda's top and its mosaic star field then grimaced. "Lord Tyrian has no decorum. People died."

"Mum said he invested in the ship so he felt it's his. An old argument from her teen years. She walked the decks, so she said." Sighing, Gwen pursed her lips, staring. "There's a flask sealed with a stopper in the corner. It's mine." She pointed to a crevice that hand bands across it. As they floated into her room bedecked in pink and mint, sand would stir across the floor, kelp would sway across the stone beds, currents would swirl. Resting on the living kelp comforter, she looked over at Reagan, her own sadness captured in Reagan's eyes. "Yes. At least for the ceremony. I know it will cause problems..."

Reagan laughed. "Problems? No. This meeting will get back to the Sword who will call my parents. That's the last word of it. I am on business not play anymore. They understand that even if they don't want to be involved anymore."

Gwen shrugged and nodded. Her 'royals' key bracelet fluttered in the current. "And what does this mean?"

"I wish I knew. Especially about why Aria got a rebel one."

"You never mentioned if you got one?" Gwen looked at her empty wrist.

"I did. It's a match for yours. I don't wear it."
Gwen stared at her worried then blew it off. "So about that selfless act?"

Reagan sighed. "You do every time you go out of the way to help. Like rescuing your squad's championship."

"I don't think that is what he meant."

Reagan shrugged. "Then perhaps its linked to the keys."

Gwen laid backwards. "Yeah. Wouldn't that be the fish!"

Thirty minutes after she exited the gate, Aria held a small white sphere in her right hand as notes floated up from it. Tom didn't stand with her in her bedroom. In fact, he refused to even acknowledge her as he left through a side door. Blinking away the tears, she focused on the miniature three dimensional projection of Christina Perri's 'Jar of Hearts' video, observing every detail. Tapping the pearlescent sphere, the video projection surrounded her. Matching her voice to Christina's in timbre and range, she kept the video repeating.

"Aria, when are you coming down? We need to talk about the events of Worlds," an older male voice called from beyond the massive stone room. Sighing petulantly, she waved her other hand over the pearl. The video collapsed in a bright explosion of sparkles.

"My version matches perfectly. What's done is done," she said to the silence. "Time to shine." She chuckled, brushing down the gown again as the massive stone wall slid open to the warmly arrayed house beyond.

Gwen stared into the surface mirror as gentle strokes repeated through her drying hair. Her mother smiled peaceably as the rainbow metal brush smoothed and straightened. "You promised to tell me the story of the brush," she said earnestly. "How can I prep for what the King asks of me if you don't speak of our heritage?"

"I don't speak of it for safety reasons, Gwen." She stared at her reflection, the coral pink Reem Acra® ruched silk organza gown lying on her bed waiting to be worn. "Your awards banquet is tonight. Why now?" Her Mother rested the brush on the vanity, reaching for several seashells encrusted rainbow metal hairclips. In the background, her father shouted "Portia, tell her that her new Nfinity's® arrived." Her mother shook her head, a soft laugh at the humorous interlude to their serious discussion.

"I used my second to last transfiguration to meet with King Natal." Sorrow held her eyes downward.

Portia stared into the mirror at her, the two almost identical save Portia's softer lines and eye wrinkles.

"He agreed that I'll replace Aria if she fails."

Portia paused to wipe a tear from her eyes. "Good. Lorelei would be proud."

Gwen gulped. Portia inhaled, hesitant. "The original clips were made three millennia ago for our House. They vanished when the House Oannes ship was lost in a hurricane. These are replicas made for your grandmothers' journey on the Titanic."

Portia slid them alongside Gwen's poof as she adjusted a drooping lace camisole strap. Her mother's tense smile reflected back. "You look beautiful."

"It's not that. What happened to mirror?" Gwen changed the subject, blanking her face.

"It was stolen in 1992 while I was in Hawaii. I never told anyone I had it. I let them think it was lost with the rest of the artifacts. This is a replica. It was the only thing that got me through your grandfather exiling me."

Gwen sighed. "Why didn't you talk to Uncle Emmett?"

Portia grimaced. "Because I didn't want to put him at odds with his own brother. Your grandfather dislikes the fact that he isn't involved in our affairs enough. Besides, I would have to choose sides. Your grandfathers desire to destroy the Piscine and subjugate the surface or Uncle Emmett's rule the surface through subterfuge. If you become princess, you will too. You understand that?" She wiped a tear away.

Gwen nodded, closing her eyes. Inside she saw Christina 'Tina' Petri's music vanishing for all time. Pursing her lips, she announced. "I made my choice when I started this path, Mom."

Forty-five minutes later, Gwen stood lost in thought inside their massive gym called the 'CheerHouse'. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the 2008-09 awards banquet will begin in five minutes. Please find your assigned table and greet your server. Thank you." The PA echoed inside the golden sandstone walls, jarring her back to reality. Standing before the woman's restroom sink, she tensed, shaking her head.

Aria snorted. "I've done nothing wrong." Long, chocolaty locks whipped as she turned from her own reflection, standing just a head shorter in black flats. "Look at my hands," she asked her soft, honeyed voice even as the same tension gripped it. "You see blood? You see a gold ticket burned in?" She gulped as she turned back to the bathroom mirror, her hands dabbing Stila® mulberry lip glaze across her thick pink lips again.

"We are here to celebrate the fact that this is our ninth National Championship and first Worlds win for Wolverine Gold in three years. You know they raise the banner tonight." Aria fluffed her sable poof; straightening the obsidian and gold bow behind it.

"Yes I do. So you want to just brush it off? Salve your wounded pride." Gwen hissed back, adjusting her own poof and bow; jet with white falling stars across it. Admiring her eyeshadow, she frowned. Tom does a better job. At least I wouldn't listen to this.

"Wounded?" Aria pivoted, tugging at her ruched raspberry satin long dress. Umber toned pink seashell nailed hand stretched out before her. "Gwen, you know me. We're besties. Why would I jeopardize that for an unknown song when we have all this?" Two golden star embedded rings reading 'National Champions'.

"Please!" Gwen begged as she brushed on the sky blue eye shadow. "I know you're having Kevin record it tomorrow. Don't! Let it go. I'm pleading."

"Ladies, its time," floated in an older female voice from beyond the bathroom door.

"Yes, Coach," they replied in unison. Aria glanced in the mirror, nodding with a dark smile, satisfied her lips held a high sheen. "You do look good." Her smile remained.

"You do too." Gwen pushed her assorted Stila® cosmetics back into her 'Little Tate' Tote. She walked over to the black and gold marble stalls, pushing open each again. Turning to face Aria, still holding a can of hair spray, she frowned. "If you do that song tomorrow, everything changes."

Dropping the can into her coral Linea Pelle® Dylan tote, worry flickered into Aria's eyes. "You have your laptop here?"

"Of course," her petulant replay accompanied a reveal of it. "I could..."

"No," Aria retorted remorseless. "She's nobody. You know who we are." A haughty smile gleamed as she pushed open the bathroom door. Its thick blood wood with carved star and clawed paw logo shut fast enough that Gwen had to push it open again. Strutting across the parquet floor, she grinned as she climbed the stairs beside the stage resting beneath the banner bedecked back wall of the Cheer House. It tightened in pride as she glanced upward at the numerous hanging banners and the now open hole in the center rafter.

Gwen's eyes narrowed, taking off after her. Aria shook her head, shrugging. Shuffling into her place among the squad of twenty, she glanced at Gwen sliding in several bodies away.

"Trouble in paradise?" a curious squad member asked.

"No. None at all," Gwen smiled with fake warmth. "This is our night to shine."

Exhaling the tension, she noticed Tom walking in, wearing the J. Hilburn® Charcoal w/Lavender Stripe two-piece suit she had made for him. He glanced up at her as he sat down at a central table beside another tuxedoed gentleman, waving his hand across his chest.

"Gwen, focus!" Aria hissed from three people over. She got a dirty look in return as one of their coaches approached the podium before them.

Reagan smoothed her aqua illusion ball gown down as she sat. The full, frothy layered skirt tended to catch on anything. The last thing I need is this to catch on something. She ate the grimace before it twisted her muted pink lips.

"I see you made it," the deep, rough voice from beside her sent chills up and down her spine. Its tone left much to be desired.

"I see you didn't bother with your hair again. Why the grunge?" She lifted a shoulder length limp chocolate clump, shaking her head. He nodded, batting her hand away, amused grin on his long face. "Of course, you met my nephew, Tom?" She beheld Tom, seated beside his uncle at the round table, winking at his square faced, ebony stubble. He pulled his gaze away from Gwen just long enough to smile politely. His cropped hair glowed under the halogen light, liquid coal mixed with dark chocolate.

He flashed a suave grin. "Reagan," he said as his azure eyes widened subtly. He raised a brow briefly, asking the obvious question.

Reagan snorted. "Business. Dad's meeting schedule changed, so my ticket changed too." The waitress appeared behind her, laid out plates of square puff pastries sprinkled in powdered sugar, dotted with ruddy stalks peeking through. Behind Tom's uncle, another delivered champagne flutes, pausing before Tom.

"He's old enough." His uncle spoke quickly. "Just continue." Tom grinned. "Thanks, Uncle Mark."

The arrival of a golden rope handled Mini-Moet® pail finished the waitress's setup. Sliding the golden star and claw napkin ring off his silverware, Tom glanced back at Reagan. "You expected lagniappe?"

"No. I'm just here enjoying what's provided while Dad's enacting his plan." She nodded softly, worry wrinkling her brow.

He turned back to the stage where a tall, stout man took the podium. He scratched his salt and pepper goatee before speaking. "Hello. Welcome to the CheerHouse. I'm Abe Grace, part owner of 'Full of Grace Cheer and Dance'. Thank you for your support over the past cycle. It means so much. We couldn't have got here without you."

Tom nodded, glanced at Mark with a knowing smile then returned to his rapt attention of Abe and Gwen.

Reagan followed Tom's gaze to Gwen standing in a coral ruched silk chiffon gown. The silk gathered in a twist along the fitted, boned bodice. She even looks like a surface princess tonight. Although the gold eye shadow is a bit much.

"So why aren't you up there?" Reagan leaned back, arms akimbo.

He grimaced. "I don't belong up there."

Mark stifled a laugh. "I assumed you knew. Tom's a world class swimmer. Not a cheerleader." The sneer when he said the word, caused both of them to cringe, Reagan visibly She then sighed, shaking her head as he continued eating his beignet while listening to Abe introduce his wife, Coach Angela Grace. Soft applause flooded the vast gymnasium.

Aria scanned the crowd languorously stifling a yawn. Father and Uncle Lee sat off to the right on the front row, nibbling on beignets. Other friends sat further back, all staring her way. No one she knew deeply, save Reagan who oddly decided to be here.

Then there was Tom. He sat with his uncle with Reagan beside him. Not that it mattered to her. Tom broke his promise again. After what he did to me on Natal Island, he promised to make it up. If he's at the party tonight, I'm tearing a piece out of his hide.

She clenched her right hand involuntarily as Coach Grace, walked to the podium, sporting two spherical buns worn at about 45 degree angles on the side of her head. Ruddy streamers fell from them, flailing briefly as she halted. As applause rose from the crowd, she grinned, tugging her gold spangled dress down over her petite athletic form.

Of course, my hair won't grow that long. Why is it that I, being princess ascendant, heir to all the Red shield controls, can't get that? I can get this! She looked over at the NCA National Champions trophy with its golden megaphone mounted on a trophy cup resting on tiers of dark stained wood.

It wouldn't last hours in Cetacea. A bright fake smile shined forth. Oh, those are easy for me to gain. Yet a guy that will support my choices, one that will be a member of the assembly with me, that's impossible.

"Thanks." Coach Grace after the applause faded. "This cycle, we have two winning squads. Our first, Wolverine Black, won silver in 'small senior all girl'. Wolverine Gold won its third overall ACCDL world championship in 'small senior coed' while claiming our first grand championship. They did this using a live band for their music." She glanced over at Aria, shaking her head softly while grinning. "Sadly that will be the only time live music can be used."

A nudge from a buxom girl, far bigger and thicker than her caused her to focus on the podium and Coach Grace. "Our center flyer, Gwen Breton asked to give a speech so I relented and yield the floor to her."

Aria's eyes widened to saucers as she pulled the emerald green bodice cup together compulsively, her face locked in brilliant lie of a smile. It's the gown. I buy a Burberry® Prorsum Dress and suddenly I'm the problem. I walk around in a sports bra and Nike pros all day, that's fine. Gwen smiled warmly at her, caught the glare and still waved her up. "I want you up here."

"Why?"

"Because you earned it. Hit the switch to trigger the banners when I give the signal." She beamed, all things seemingly forgiven.

Staring at the podium, a remote rested beside a sheet of page filled with ornate lettering, yet the notes themselves intrigued her. They were in Assembly, not English. Snatching the remote, Aria masked her shock as best she could. Still Gwen leaned over, whispering. "Smile, you look like I just knifed your dreams," in Assembly. She grinned wickedly.

Looking back to the crowd, she connected with the first row. "At the beginning of each cycle, we have firsts. It's the special day where we welcome out new team members, hug and celebrate returning members. On it we are taught AC."

Coach Grace stepped behind Gwen, speaking into the mike, "I call it Angela's Creed." Laughter bubbled from the audience.

"AC isn't a secret like that of Cheer Athletics' phrase. It's our way. God first. Family and friends second. Grace Cheer third. All Ohana. Ohana is Hawaiian for family. You are ours. We couldn't have done this without you."

Pausing to wipe her eyes, she saw vast smiles, pleasant grins and 'aww' floating from the crowd.

"We have a saying here at the gym. It's actually common among all competitive cheerleaders. Hit, hit, hit, pull!" She grinned as the sea of nods rippled before her. "Most have no clue it has a secret meaning. Now you will. Don't tweet this. It's bad enough that Cheer Athletics' phrase is out there."

Aria looked down stifling a groan. Really? They don't know who CA is or their secret phrase.

"'Hit, hit, hit, pull!' means: Hope integrity trust. Honor in trial. Honor in triumph. Push your life level." Scanning the crowd, she inhaled then turned the page over. Aria shook her head. More ornate assembly script this time with small English notes beside it. You know what, I'm not relenting. If you can't have the common decency to respect our traditions and laws on the surface, why should I? I'm not a siren so I'm not bound. The song is now mine. It will be mine forever. Who the boil cares what that waitress thinks? She looked out at the intent faces. Someday this will be me.

Gwen elbowed Aria, who glared at her then realized. Crushing the remote buttons, the banners rolled down perfectly. Gwen glanced upward then out to the crowd. "Thanks for believing in us enough to bring this home. Parentals, mates, friends all contributing. So from all us Wolverines, thank you. As a final gift to you all I want to sing a song, if Coach Grace doesn't mind." Looking backwards briefly, Coach Grace nodded. "It's called '

Aria stared upward at the Worlds banner for a second, the power blue waving softly in the air-conditioning breeze while Abe handed her the guitar he held. She looked down at their whispering, shook her head softly, waiting as the trance wave flowed before noticing Reagan at the table seriously whispering to Tom. Suddenly listening, she grimaced. Why can't we just go back to being friends?

"Aria?" Gwen shouted, as Coach Grace retook the podium.

"What?' she whispered as she ran over.

Gwen still held the guitar. "You don't see it?"

"See what? They look fine."

She chuckled. "You," she softly shook her head. "What happened?"

"What we were warned about," she whispered back, spooked.

Reagan stared at the Worlds banner as it unfurled, watching the flow

"There's a problem?" Mark asked as he picked at his .

"No. Just wondering about the future."

Tom glanced over with a suave smile. "Everything will roll out just like the banner."

"I believe it will, provided you do your part like we discussed," Reagan said before sampling hers cautiously.

Tom looked back up as Coach Grace announced Wolverine Black. Glancing around feverishly, he caught Gwen as she trotted to their table.

"Hi!" She chirped curiously, smiling at Tom.

Reagan appraised her, amused. "Having fun?"

"Always." Gwen remarked as she sat down. The waiter set her up and placed the Crawfish Étouffée in front of her. "Thanks for coming. I love your dress. Where did you get it?"

Her eyes sparkled. "Bergdorf. Although I think it's a little out of your league." She winked.

Gwen leaned over to adjust her left Jimmy Choo® Denton Scuba Front-Zip Sandal high heel. "I would disagree. Still it's hard to get to Manhattan with my load," She replied as she straightened back up. Tom and Mark glanced at each other confused.

A wry laugh tumbled from Reagan. "We always do that about our dresses, Tom. We picked them out together." She shook her head as Gwen wiped her eyes from crying while laughing. She leaned over and hugged him. "Sometimes."

He returned the hug and retrieved what Mark had in his hand as he did, an ampule gun. It already held a little glass vial of milky white banded gray fluid.

Gwen glared at him, masking her startled expression quickly. "Can that wait?"

He glanced over at Reagan. "No, it can't. No offense."

Catching the sudden tension, she waved over someone she hadn't expected to see; Beth Cooper. Cooper stood Gwen's height in a stunning Christian Siriano gown. The gown, a blush colored explosion of taffeta, filled the space; a sweet, delicate creation floating like foam atop a root beer float. Cooper wide stared at her briefly, stroking her caramel shoulder length hair.

"Reagan West?" she shouts, overwhelming the silent interlude as one of the members of Black steps up to speak.

Reagan nods and they embrace before she pulls out a chair, pointing to Gwen and Tom still squaring off.

"Nikki asked me too. Your cheerleader doc, remember?" He whispered, charm oozing from scintillating white teeth. "Also, Dr. Volkov frowns on you missing a dose. It's Friday night, the 15th of May, remember?"

Mark shot her a look, nodding. He glances over at Beth with surprise then shakes his head at Reagan who shrugs.

Tom holds the butt of the gun out to her. Flushing to her bust, she snatched it from his hand.

"Sometimes, Tom..."

He grinned, turned to Beth and Reagan. "Well isn't this interesting. How are you?"

"Fine," Beth said hesitantly. "Beth Cooper, Reagan's friend. We met at Worlds. My beavers won the High School championship."

Tom grinned mischievously "This one?"

Beth nodded, glancing unsure at Reagan.

"So you're well acquainted with various sea friends?"

Beth looked even more confused as Reagan shook her head. Mark coughed, laughing so hard.

Gwen, with a straight face, said, "He means all-star teams. Do you know other all-star teams like Cali Bullets or Stingray?"

"No. Although I am going to be interning here at Grace." With that said Coach Grace called her name and waved at her to come up on stage.

Reagan laughed politely, looking down and withdrawing an already broken open message tube message. Passing it to Gwen, she whispered, "This should help with one of the requirements."

Gwen stared at the sapphire coated lotus paper. It was a warning to Coach Sylvan about what danger she called to herself by holding on to the 'healing rain'. The phrase intrigued her. Catching Reagan's attention, she whispered. "Do you know what 'healing rain' is?"

Reagan shrugged. "Not in that context. I'll explain later."

As Gwen looked back at the stage, Coach Grace flagged her up. "I though you could say the final words of the season to sum everything up." Reagan snapped up the paper and shaking her head rose as well.

"Where are you going?" Tom asked, grabbing her hand.

"Home. I did what I needed to. Remember our discussion. She needs you far more than you think. Especially now that Aria believes she has won. She hasn't."

7: Ghosts of the past

Saturday dawn found Gwen asleep in a bed layered in pinks, corals and cream comforters. Pillows and sheets bearing dolphins and starfish wrapped themselves around her. Frizzy honey hair rested across her oval face as she shifted. Warm golden sunlight reflecting off salmon stucco bathed her in morning. "Why, Aria?" she mumbled. Groggily opening hazel eyes, she rubbed them and her button nose trying to wake up. Pink lips pursed as she wet them.

Setting up, she noticed the headache immediately. Comforters and sheets fluttered as she burst from the bed, halting in front of the full length mirror. Petite bust, check. Flat six-pack abs, check. Round, curvy waist and hips check. Tight, taut thighs and calves check. Lacy maroon boy shorts said she slept on the surface. The lack of any other garment agreed. She was pink in the right spots. Her fingers and toes remained peach. Squeezing her temple, she groaned. The air felt dry, too dry. Grabbing her one-liter water bottle off the nightstand, she downed it.

A chirp echoed. Looking toward her laptop, a soft blinking continued. Why is it still on? I always turn it off. Stretching briefly, the laptop chirped again. Sliding into the faux leather desk chair, she opened the laptop. Twitter mentions were scrolling, Facebook fan page was rolling and even her instant messages from Kevin remained. One hundred thousand followers and thirty thousand 'friends'. Sometimes I know that's what Aria wants. My fame. Closing it, she sauntered into the bathroom.

After a shower and donning of ivory lace boy shorts, she opened the closet to find her practice shorts. Clumps of Anthropologie®, Forever 21® and J Crew®; stare as she walks in. Near the front, hanging in its plastic sack, rest her spare Wolverine Gold cheerleading half top and shorts from each year she'd been on the team. End of Year 3, she sighed to herself.

Rubbing her forehead, she pushed past the high school winter, full tops and shell uniforms beside it. After that were her championship jackets, embroidered with either NCA or Majors. Her practice shorts, all lycra and polyester, followed. Grabbing gold Nike® Pro compression shorts and pulling it on, she caught sight of her sister's old, worn High school cheerleading uniform. Memories of that day in Taft High two years ago still remained cruelly crisp.

The cranberry and snow polyester shell bore ebony piping around its neck and across the top of the bust, enclosing an ebony triangle bordered in cranberry as well. A matching bar ran above the snow bordered cranberry letters, THS. Beneath the lettering, a thick band of cranberry bordered ebony Lycra. The sides were snow Lycra. The pleated skirt was solid cranberry with an ebony edge piping. Folded into the pleats rested an April '07 newspaper clipping of the shooting pinned in securely.

Brushing the clipping, images of violent deaths, coaches and twelve students, rippled around. Dread, loathing and loss flew unbidden as she stared at the picture of her big sister still in her now bloody Coupe de Monde Shooting Stars uniform, her tear streaked, blood caked face gripped in abject horror. Tom stood, cradling her as he staggered out the front door, hiding his own gunshot wound. A scar you still have to this day..

Beside it hung her well-worn, maroon, four hundred thread Egyptian cotton practice shirt and matching black shorts both sporting the Cheerieaux name. Beyond those hung the single NCA national championship jacket and a 2006-2007 season Shooting Stars half-top and shorts. Their black and gold blended perfectly, sparkling in the light. The gold and black rest in different places now. Even the font changed. A picture of a smiling blond girl with ringlets surrounding her leopard print bow standing beside her hung to the shorts. Pushing them away, she seized a gold claw embossed sports bra.

As she slipped into a matching colored warm up jacket, she tripped over her gold star black duffle as well as her bow bedecked Nfinity® backpack. A soft smile as she noted USASF Worlds 2009 pin beside her name. Hard work. Way too much hard work. She frowned then noticed the other pack. The one with the CMSS logo and her sister's name, Lorelei, beneath it. It was bow festooned as well. Still stuffed to the gills with gear. More pain to open especially after she passed. Why? Why did you have to go say goodbye to her that day? You would have missed all of it if you went about your normal routine. You would have been in their gym in New Jersey when it happened. You could have called. Blinking away the tears, she rubbed her own NCA championship ring, willing a smile to return. Suddenly, '' by Calli Clerkson rumbled out. Sinking down the closet wall, memories of screaming people, thickening fear and horror. "I am afraid. Because of you..."

Grabbing her spare black duffel, a deeper frown set. Time to face this. I won't be a party to Aria using a stolen golden ticket. I should have never sung her that song again. Now I can hope the rumor that Coach Sylvan was at least turned.

She parked the car in the empty parking lot. Silence of the weekend and loose paper blowing in the breeze cast the school no different than it did the last time she pulled in a year ago. It still had the same faded parking lines and cracked curbs. Signs for the facility hung listless, worn by sun and time. Everything was where it was supposed to be, just as she remembered. Only this time she had to enter the building. Locking the car, an old piece of cheerleading team stationary stuck to the silver BMW325i. Peeling it off, she saw the unpruned trees. The overgrown and unkempt grass spilled over curbs and into sidewalks. Mint dumpster, bane of social misfits, gone. The four-story building itself saw better days. Yet its sandstone still echoed that day's terror, even from its windowless back.

Eyes moved like radar as she walked down the grimy sidewalk to the front. Silence gripped as loss filled her nostrils. Shaking it off, an errant piece of police tape listlessly beckoned as she turned the corner. A massive eight-foot chain link fence slammed into her, causing her to stagger back. Mounted into the building on one end, it ran the length of front to the other corner and turned. That wasn't here last year.

Following the fence around, she came to a door in line with the forest green front doors. Weathered grey wood tagged with red 'ghost town' and a pitchfork scrawled across hung loosely to a single door. A poor drawing of the school's mascot also adorned the boards. Huge coiled chain bound the gate door closed. No lock, just fist sized, flat steel chain links pitted with age.

Staring through and up, trepidation fought forward motion. Every first and second floor window boarded up all over the building. Hatchwork domed light fixtures shattered and smashed. Delicate forking along the roof broken as well. The only thing that even suggested a school still hung above the front doors. Below the name remained an address; 1854. A sign warning about trespassing hung fitfully off the plywood, nailed in haste. Its twin zip-tied to the gate door spoke as well. All along the edges, trash and other debris accumulated.

It's so tragic. Glancing around, she grimaced. Memories of the school alive flickered. Why? Why did I let you slip through? I should have been there for you, Lorelei. Rubbing her forehead, she yelled at the walls, "You shoot me down but I won't fall." Music called her mind. Shoving it backward, she focused on the fence.

More memories came as she climbed it. Memories of walking the halls. Lorelei taking Spanish with a tall curly headed teacher. Brad who helped even though he remained Vice principal. Of a vast gymnasium where she practiced high school cheerleading in cranberry and cream. Memories where Tom came in that one day as a member of Brittney Waddell's crew. Fights with jealous rivals who hated that she got on Coupe de Monde. This is all your fault, Aria. Look where I am at!

Springing from the top into a squat, she watched for anything suspicious. An old crowbar rusted amongst weeds. Zipped tool bag resting on its side. Each called out. Scooping them up, she dropped the bag while it reveals its rotted bottom.

The chain came easily free with that crowbar. Kicking the gate, it creaked open. Now hung like tinsel on its two sides, chain sparkled in morning sun. She shook her head and approached the front doors wincing.

"Fire away!" she bellowed as she readied the crowbar. Rusty strike stopped short as she noticed the doors ajar. A fresh chain sat in a pile on the concrete stoop beside one door sans its massive padlock. Even the hand plate for the main door lock was gone. Strange, where are all the locks? None of this makes sense.

A rumbling, sonorous creak echoes as the doors push open, sunlight streaming onto the billboard holding two-year-old notices spotted with dirt and dust. Blond hair flutters as she creeps in, a cloud of dirt cloaking her motion. Still turning either way led into abject darkness. Slashes of light stabbed the floor in the distance. Otherwise, abounding blackness. Growling, she stormed back to the discarded tool bag. Amongst the rusted tools, bolt cutters, wrenches, lock pics and drivers of all sorts remained faraday flashlight which still appeared to work. This won't cut it. Removing it, the bag still glowed. Attached to a side pocket a three inch Lodolite crystal cut like a illumati crystal waited. Grabbing it out and walking back to the front doors, a devious smile rested on her lips. I know the truth. It will set me free. I'm bulletproof. Nothing to lose. Fire away, fire away.

Fitful light filled the entry hall when she tugged shut the rusting steel doors. Sweat dripping from her forehead, matting her hair as she prowls the empty, dank hall. The crystal pierced the dark revealing dry water fountains, open doors and papers scattered on the floor. Maroon and cream tiled hallway glistened under a layer of grime.

Finally, an emotional near ballad drawing pop, house and urban dance grew around her softly at first then clenched awareness to itself; . Focusing inward, her fingers brushed the notes, connecting with the oversized beats. Whining synths, and atmospheric sound effects bristled with dripping electronica as she released the music into the dead space around her.

Emotional inflection oozed from her lips as disembodied guitars strummed above frantic zips and twiddles. Standing still, she rotated on her toes, declaring "I am titanium!" The ghostly lute like voice of Sia torrented away all the fear leaving an inner reserve of strength as the song finished. Clearing her head, she sighed at the musty dust motes still floating from the sonic storm. Way too much truth in those lyrics. Really it was Tom who was titanium. She waved her arms at the mess around her.

Gaping red lockers hung lockless. Old posters still announcing upcoming 'Under the sea' prom curled and discolored. Then the trophy case lit up as the glow consumed it. Above, the school's name spelled out in dirty tan letters bolted to the walls. Some chipped by obvious prying attempts. Others cracked. Yet all remained. Not true about the case, though. The formerly flush doors sat open. Dusty emptiness and her messy reflection stared back. Except it wasn't totally empty. A lone trophy and plaque remained. Odd, who would leave a trophy behind? Where do school trophies go when a school dies?

A memory of Lorelei standing in front of the full case gleefully showing the High school cheerleading national championship trophy popped up. Gwen sang the chorus of the song again, letting her sorrow echo in the dank, lonely hall. "Quit reminding me what I lost!"

Approaching the case, she recognized the brass singing man trophy. Bronze plate read, '1993 National Champions'. A deep frown set. Rubbing her eyes, she stared at the plaque. Ms. Adlers, the jowly round faced older lady with curly red hair smiled back. It held her passing date of 1997 and an uplifting quote: 'May you ever be part of the assembly.' She remembered Lorelei spoke in glowing terms about how the curly haired Spanish teacher said how she led everyone including him to victory in 1993.

Tears began rolling down. Rubbing her arm swiftly across her face, she sniffed. On the floor, crumpled and dusty rested a duffel with a 1 scrawled on its side. As she turned it over, a flash of inspiration brightened her sight. The trophy barely fit but the plaque went easily. You don't deserve this. I have a better home for you. Looking over the trophy again, tingling warmth filled her as she held it. I'll take you home.

One place left to go. The one I came to see; the cheerleading coach's office. Something has to be there otherwise nothing makes sense. Her mind held memories of Lorelei's final year. Ones of the tall women in her tight cropped blond mop and crow's feet. Her venomous spew splattered upon everyone. I tolerated her for Lorelei's sake. It's not like I went here anyway. Being Gold meant I would go to Forest Hills. Aria even tried out for Cheerieaux. That didn't go over so well. She smirked briefly.

The silent darkness terrified her the deeper she went. Now beyond the point where the windows would even leak into the hall, she crept closer to the cheerleading office in the undamaged back wing of the building. "I am not moved by what I see, only what I believe. I am bulletproof."

She repeated this softly to herself as the glow bounced from wall to floor. Abruptly the wall vanished into blackness. The tiled floor warped and shattered in spots before it simply vanished. Focusing the beam toward the gaping maw, twisted metal, tawny brick and cinder block appeared before a jade corrugated panel. The opposite side of the tri-fork held the same with less brick. Instead, ceiling tiles, lockers and various girders from the second floor scattered in the emptiness.

Above her, grey skylight cast the spot from pitch to gloomy twilight. The floor beyond returned to dank red and dingy white, undamaged. The walls begin again from the corners, this time pock marked with bullet holes. Inhaling deeply, she pressed on until she found a wide open door pouring sunlight into the hall.

Sudden brightness froze her as she squinted. Stumbling over a broken tile, she caught herself but not before almost faceplanting on the front page of the Daily Advertiser. The headline announced 'Nationally known High school Cheerleading coach murdered in Football coach's psychotic rampage. His former student kills twelve.' The picture of swarthy Coach Delamort and young, thick necked John Jay Rinch side by side stared back.

Grabbing from her mind, she performed the entire song prone, face up. Shadows drifted before the door as the note torrent swallowed her. Standing when the final guitar and piano beats ceased, she walked in.

Everything was still there. The Stairmaster®, the desk with name placard and cranberry stationary, even the wall of trophies remained. Analog TV in the corner. Cranberry chairs with THS on the back. Dented file cabinets covered in trophies. Overflowing billboard of typed notes and pictures of a Coach Sylvan with her squads decorated the walls. The scared leather chair faced the back wall, covered it a light brush of dust and grime. Yet the desk appeared clean, dust free.

Gwen looked up just as the shadow stepped into the light. Reagan smiled again, reaching as Gwen dropped the bag, fright written across her face. "Sorry. I wasn't sure you'd come. I know what this place symbolizes."

"Darkness. Hate. Everything I've lost. Bogan mongrels," Gwen hissed in Australian accent. "Why are you here, Reagan?"

"Same as you. Finding what Coach Sylvan hid that caused the Piscine to kill her." She pointed to the desk. "There's nothing on the desk on in any of the drawers that looked like it matters." She shrugged, leaning against Coach's Stairmaster, facing the open window.

Walking around, she tugged on the locked drawer, sighed, and stared straight ahead. It stared straight back, obvious if you understood cheer. Walking across the small room to silver and blue pom-pom hanging from the wall, she reached in and pulled out a key matching the one hanging from her wrist.

Reagan snorted, delight flushing her face. "Of course." Gwen shot a look of frustration as she jiggled the key in the lock. The drawer finally slid open. In amongst Coach Sylvan's passport, various IDs and roll of dollars sat a small tube just like any other message tube she'd ever seen. Only this one missed its lid and seal.

Fishing it out, she held it for Reagan to see. "Any ideas?"

Reagan shrugged again, shaking her head. "Anything else?"

"No." Tapping the tube into her hand, a note slid out first. In both Assembly and English, it read, "For those who fight for it, life has a flavor the sheltered will never know." A crystalline vial fell out, wrapped in a small lotus paper scribed with Assembly. "Who honors those we love with the very life we live? Who sends monsters to kill us and at the same time sings that we'll never die? Who teaches us what's real and how to laugh at lies? Who decides why we live and what we'll die to defend? Who chains us and who holds the key to set us free? It's you. You have all the weapons you need. Now fight!"

Returning the crystal to the tube, Gwen shook her head. "This makes less sense now."

"It's something. Let's go." Reagan said, uneasy suddenly.

"Sure, and while we are on our way out you can explain why you are still here." Gwen stared hard hiding a smile with her hand. The tube safety into the duffle, she stepped to the doorway when Reagan pulled her back. "No. We've been inside too long." Showing a melon conch shell that pulsed with a soft aquamarine light, she grinned. "Emergency exit."

Gwen shook her head, more amused than annoyed. "Aria's father is going to be pissed when he finds it gone."

"It's not his," Reagan says as a shroud of bubbles surround them. Appearing beside Gwen's car, Reagan nods. "There are ways around even the King's commands." Then she vanishes in fleeting bubbles.

Sliding back into the car, Gwen looks back at the building. "I need to do something. This can't be it."

8:Golden Ticket

Gwen stood outside, beside the door to the Jefferson street épicerie when the text from Tom appeared. 'It's 8:30. Aren't you supposed to be somewhere? Aria's doing 'Jar of Hearts' as her mini concert. A/V records everything she does'. Shaking her head, she shoved the remainder of the crawfish fried pie into her mouth as she dove back into her red Holden Cruze.

"Holy Lord, I need help. Show me how to return this music to its rightful owner." She said as she backed out. Yet the prayer and all the confidence felt flat as the waves electric fear rose inside. Minty street pole bearing the Rue Vermillion street sign blinked past as she heading out of downtown and closer to her destiny. 'So much easier if I were a member of House Oannes." A couple of wry chuckles tumbled out.

Shooting down Versailles Blvd., she caught sight of Café du Marché, a care worn, ruddy brick building with flapping lime canopies greeting the day and protecting tables and chairs from the humid, blustery day ahead. Sighing she pulled in, and parked.

As she stepped out, the massive Forest Hills High School complex rose in the distance. A soft grin painted her face as she caught the preforming arts wing and its atrium glistening in the sun. Behind and above beckoned the science wing, its much older stone-face squinting in the sun. In the east, the top of Booker field sparkled in the morning, rising like the ancient monolith it remained. The oldest stone stadium in North America, and it was ours right now. The groundskeepers would be tending to the grass right now. The pain fled briefly as memories of fresh cut glass filtered inward.

"I don't care what Aria thinks anymore." growled out as she stabbed her iPhone repeatedly with her finger. "Pickup, Uncle Emmett!"

Shivering, she trotted inside to a green and white French market complete with powdered sugar beignets, Community® coffee both original and chicory, other desserts, and numerous fresh seafood enticed her attention, all arrayed for quick snacks. Down the aisles lie crawfish, rows of freshly prepared Cajun food, Creole and cooking. At the crossing, stacks of various fruits, vegetables, and more rested. Plopping down at a wrought iron table with a steaming cup of chicory coffee and a basket of beignets, she poked the phone again.

"Sorry, Gwen. I was in a meeting with my Japanese division. I couldn't answer. What's going on?" Emmett said soft but serious. In the background, harbor sounds echoed.

"I need help. Remember I asked if you could find Christina Perri?"

"Yes. I do and I did. She's in LA making music videos. Why?" The softness vanished replaced with concern. The tightness in her chest released ever so slightly. "Aria stole her golden ticket. I need her to make a video of her singing it first."

Silence reigned on the line as he shouted in the background. Voices spoke in rapid Japanese then he said. "That's a serious accusation. You have proof?"

"I sent the lyrics to you. If I am correct, Aria will live stream the mini concert on the school's website." She pursed her lips and stared around at the people milling about. None seems to care about the short, blond teenager ranting into her phone. Pulling free her top, she twisted a piece of hair with her left fingers.

"I'll do what I can. She doesn't have a music contract with Siren Song Recording. All she has is a work contract. I'll get in touch. As for Aria's video, I'll inform the proper people. However, you know the way this works."

Gwen groaned inwardly. If Aria releases it first and the song is already listed with her name, there is not much anyone can do on the surface. However, the price of pulling that stunt in the Assembly is high. High enough to guarantee a Natal won't set on the throne for at least a generation. "I do. Thanks for everything, Uncle."

"I'll call back when I get in touch with her. Bye." He said, eschewing the traditional departure greeting. "Bye, Uncle."

Looking around again, she sighed, "It's not going to get better unless I make it. Why?"

Just then, a text appeared for Aria wondering where she was. It apologized for her attacking Tom and me about that night at Worlds. Shaking her head, she closed the phone and shoved a beignet into her mouth.

Meanwhile, Aria preened before a large cloud art deco mirror. "97, 98..." continued as luxuriant chocolate brown hair fell in waves as she brushed it. "100. I always win," she chirped, deep sepia eyes echoing delight. After resting her thick bristled silver brush on the edge of the porcelain pillar sink with brass taps, touching up smoky eyes began. Then a blemish check followed by M.A.C.® bubblegum lip gloss painted across her lips, smacking them once. The foundation hid the cleft in her chin as well as accenting her high cheekbones. Strands of hair in the right locations softened her squared oval face. "Perfection is achieved if you strive hard enough," she spoke confidently to the mirror, her reflected olive skin radiant.

Rising from a 1937 oak club chair upholstered in a chocolate brown leather and interior upholstered with a golden floral tapestry, she closed her makeup bag and locked it. Walking over to the last stall, a pitted yet gleaming door with a Nik-o-lok® pay lock glaring back. Taking out the bypass key, she opened the door, resting the case inside.

Pleased almost haughty grin parted her lips. That grin extended to the other women prepping for the morning's performance in the atrium. Regardless whose name remanded on the building it rested in, she knew the truth. It was her bathroom. 1930s porcelain everywhere save the modern toilets and sinks. Polished cerulean tile everywhere else. A small round cherry divan in the exact center. Mine. I worked for it this year. We won that drama contest and I spent the prize money on this.

Plopping on to the divan, she stared at the ceiling, analyzing the situation. Where are you, Gwen? Why haven't you answered my text? I know I was harsh that night about you and Tom. We've been through worse than that. Much worse. It's 8:35. Where are you?

A quick text to Winston should resolve it. Unless he's angry about it too. Still he might not know; he's into swimming not football. She grimaced to herself before noticing her NCA championship ring. She smiled briefly, it getting bigger when he texted back. 'I'll talk to her. Looking forward to this morning. Good luck. I'm rooting for you.' She dropped the phone back into her purse, beaming. He's so sweet, why can't I find a guy like him?

Three other sophomores noticed her prone on her cherry divan and paused. "Are we ready?" Aria asked as they smoothed the drama club acquired costumes.

"We are," The tallest, a red head a head taller than Aria squatted as she stared up. "What about morning practice?"

"We'll be done before then. Principal Domo is having a facility meeting this morning, so it's ideal. Anyone see Gwen?"

The girls shook her faultlessly quaffed heads. Each bore a left wrist charm bracelet with numerous charms. As Aria hopped off the divan, it was obvious she was the shortest. Each pivoted when the door forcefully popped open. A buff guy strolled in and froze.

"Get out of the Novak!" The girls screaming in unison. Aria noticed who it was and raised her hand. Winn stood delicious in his gray training shorts and star and claw t-shirt. Her heart skipped a beat as she devoured his luscious brown eyes, wavy umber hair and muscular build.

Why did he have to be Gwen's? "Any news?"

He shook his head, gazing down at her. "None. I'm worried. This isn't like her. She's punctual to a fault. You?" He said with a shy smile.

"Better. She's still my friend. What do I do?"

Winn shrugged. "I'll talk to her when I see her, if she comes today." She looked over at his ID badge. It bore him in his gold football jersey, a smile on his face. Beside it was the gold star and embedded bear claw of Forest Hills High School. "Why are you staring at my badge again, Aria?" Winn asked curious.

Bone crushing stares emanated from all the girls, arms folded. "They want me to leave."

"They don't care. Right, ladies?" She tossed them a dark glance. A sudden dispersal to the stalls and along the back wall commenced.

"You didn't answer my question." He prodded.

"I'm working on something." She said stepping away. Gosh, you are magnetic. Why can't I have you?

"You are always working on something; Cheerleading, drama, this, then the concerts." His eyes locked with hers while holding a half-smile. "Why call it Novak?"

"Novak means new, innovative, and fresh. It is our bathroom. We earned it, so rather than spend the money on something the gym, I got us this."

"Only after they rejected your idea to transfer 'ghost-town's' drama stage here," he quipped.

She frowned. "You need to leave so we can be ready in five." Glancing at the placement of her own badge attached to the center of the old ruched beige bustier she got from the drama costume room, she nodded. I will toss it in their washer when I'm done. I never want to wear something like this again.

Gesturing to the massive mounted mechanical clock. "You memorized the choreography and lines I gave you?"

They nodded. "I did," smattered amongst them

"Tom is to be surprised," she commented, jumping onto the divan. "Don't react. Just follow the choreography. He isn't supposed to be happy." With a nod, she trotted out of the Novak. Before her opened up the two-story atrium of Forest Hills High School.

Study tables in the far left and far right, near the library and cafeteria entrance, stood folded, leaving the golden star and wolverine claw mosaic fully revealed. The A/V crew had cameras set up in a horseshoe pattern. She smiled at Kevin, and his leg of steel, who nodded back. Wrapped in black and gold crepe paper the second floor rails blended into the background. Everything seemed ready. Where is everyone? Didn't I make it plain on Facebook® and twitter®?

As the minutes ticked by teens filtered in, an equal mix of basketball, football and softball players along with the remaining Wolverine Gold. Assembling along the walls, soft buzz of aimless chatter swarmed them. The only people missing now were Gwen and Tom. She could hear the facility members shouting in meeting room adjacent to Principal Domo's office.

Dropping the smartphone back into her bag, a wide grin formed. "Time to shine."

Putting on her mic headset, the grin grew teeth when Winn approached, helmet under arm. His lopsided grin held as he stopped

"Anything?"

He shook his head. "You look great." Sheepish grin replaced lopsided. Their eyes locked briefly, before his gaze fell to the tile.

"Thank you very much, Winn. Did they tell you about tonight's party?" she inquired nonchalantly. Unless Tom mentioned it, you do not know.

"No," he sighed, suddenly hopeful.

With a brilliant smile, she whispered it into his ear.

As he walked toward the outer edge, his phone chirped. "Gwen just texted me." On the screen, a frown face: 'I was in 'Ghost-Town'.

"Did she say why?" Sweet, coy gaze flittered as she inhaled. She blew me off to go there?! His half smile materialized again along with a floor tile evaluation. "No."

Looking up at the round gray mechanical clocks hanging above the main entrance as well as above the doorway to the back hallway, she sighed, disappointed. 8:45. You never bailed before even when we had fights. Channeling the angst, she glanced over at each of her four back up dancers, dressed in various flimsy cotton dresses also from the drama closet. "Ready?"

Everyone involved nodded. "We're ready," came over the headset. The five guys that made up the instrumental ensemble grinned at her, the guitarist wearing a smirk on his sharp, square face. Even a keyboard was out there with Jeff, a thick stocky guy with short ebony hair bleached at the roots.

Tom sauntered through the doors, somewhat surprised. Aria locked her gaze with him until he froze five steps inward.

Nodding to Jeff, she took her place and focused, closing her eyes. Raising her hand once, she queued the music and the cameras.

Soft piano music of Christina Perri's came alive around her as she sang the opening lines. Stepping forward with eyes open, sprinkling the crushed rose petals in her hands on the floor. The aroma rose, surrounding the atrium with tragic beauty. The lacy beige skirt swished when she turned. Then just as quickly, the sorrow changed distinctly to anger, as she swept the crowd. In the back, behind her, the door to the meeting room opened with Principal Domo stepping out, shaking his head. Coach Angela Grace followed him, more delighted than disappointed, her red gold odango ponytails swinging as she walked.

The emphasis she placed on the word 'strong' radiated as she located Tom standing still, his mouth slightly agape, wearing a befuddled expression.

The lace ruffles of the dress crinkled as she swished around in a circle, catching Tom as she sang the lines. He blanched as she stared at him darkly, drawn like a moth into a flame.

Turning from him after asking the chorus question, she noticed that the faculty was watching her now. Suddenly, the girls assembled behind her and began a precise mirror of the video. She kept walking forward across the length of the atrium as black confetti tumbled from the second floor. The song's bridge hauntingly echoed reflected in the shivers some of the faculty exhibited.

With deliberate grace, two of the dancers began to circle Tom, as the others paused behind Aria, who clenched his gaze in her own. A hailstorm of words fell as she approached him then paused just short. The first dancer wrapped around him. He spun her around and dipped her trying to get free from her embrace.

Bouncing her twice, he dropped his arms from her waist. Catching herself, she thrust him away violently. That is when the others dance-attacked. Horror etched his face as he stared at Aria, who continued to sing forcefully.

He spun or threw each of the girls off as quickly as he could, with spins and flips. Heaving from the exertion, he stared at her darkly as she approached, pausing just inches away.

She finished with a kiss that sucked the air from his lungs while tapping the underside of his left ear in a stroke that looked like she was wrapping her arm around him. The final question fell from her lips as she stared at his passed out form on the floor.

Applause rose from the assembled students as she stood bowing. All the jocks snickered and laughed at Tom yet glanced at her wary.

"Miss Darri!" a Japanese accent broke through the applause, beckoning her presence. Looking over at the open office door beside the back hallway, she saw Principal Domo staring at her, arms folded, obviously annoyed. Her coach, Angela Grace stood beside him, looking down, shaking her head, hiding a grin.

"Principal Domo, as you can see I am trying to—" she began earnestly.

"Save it. I've heard the speech numerous times." He remarked with his left hand up. "Stop these Saturday morning recitals. Drama will be reinstated next year."

"Why?" Gwen asked as she kneeled beside Tom. Ruddy faced, he pulled himself up, glaring at Aria.

"Why what, Miss Breton?" Principal Domo queried, perplexed by the question.

"Why give her drama? She's not an artist." Making her hurt, she stood up, and wheeled around, staring at A/V, eyebrows furrowed. "Don't you dare turn off the live stream now. My uncle Emmett Cetus is watching." Her gaze changed back to Principal Domo. "You know how he likes to donate to the school, Principal."

He frowned, and nodded. "Our decision has nothing to do with Miss Darri. Carry on, for now."

Looking at the nearest camera, she composed herself, blanking her expression. "Did I not tell you, Uncle? So in response, here is my song." Raising her arms, she pulled them down with a glittery effect. Nodding to Jeff, he pushed the keyboard and chair over to her. "Everyone else get ready." Smiling, she grinned at the camera. "You think that was fabulous, listen to my fight song."

Soft piano opened on Rachel Platten's '' leading into Gwen singing while playing the piano all the while, suppressing the trance. Students and faculty stared, awestruck as Gwen, wearing a floppy black hat and sundress, poured herself into the song, fingers dancing across the keys. At various points right before the chorus start, she would hold up a single wooden match.

Tom walked to the edge of the piano, raising a fist as near the second chorus. Occasionally, he looked back at Aria, sadness in her gaze.

The song ended with a brilliant explosion of light, causing gasps and screams. Gwen rose from the piano, suddenly clad in the gossamer white gown from the video.

"I have another if you don't mind, Principal Domo." She turned to him, ignoring Aria's deep scowl. He gulped, nodding sheepishly. Coach Grace stared, stunned yet smiling and saying OMG repeatedly. Kevin, who stood beside her now, kept nodding his head and whispering as if to offer a technical explanation.

As Gwen returned the keyboard to its previous location, the guys hi-fived her, trading hugs too. "Thanks for pulling that out of the hat."

"An honor. You always seem to have the most unique songs, completely scored and everything, It's easy. Moving it from off the phone not so much. Are you sure you still want to do 'Bad Blood'? That's a lot of holography" the guitarist commented as he handed her his guitar. Jeff nodded. "That's the goal. To end this. You know she stole that song, right?"

"Figures. Yet if I told her no, he comes the big bahbin, just like she's wearing now." Jeff replied. Gwen glanced behind. Aria's pout remained fixed as she glared at Tom walking her direction.

"You have the swab?" she asked him as he stopped before her. He flashed a smug smile, holding it up. "What are you doing, Gwen?"

"Payback." She hugged him and whispered. "It's ok. Nothing will be hurt but her pride."

Repeating the same arm gestures, she looked to Jeff and nodded.

This time a hard light construct dropped, transforming the space into an office building. Everyone watching discovered their own invisibility as the music of Taylor Swift's 'Bad Blood' surrounded them. Men in business suits crash against desks as a security alarm squeals in the background. Suddenly clad in a white leather cat suit, words appear before Gwen's crouching form before she attacks another besuited security guard.

Aria, to her own personal shock, suddenly is compelled to fight them as well, violently twisting the arm of a phantom guard until bones crack and screams echo. Words appear beside her as acrobatics continue. She manages to free herself enough to find Gwen, holding a steel briefcase, standing beside an office window revealing the Manhattan skyline at night.

Popping out a compact, Aria blows the power from it into Gwen's face causing her to look away enough to allow Aria to steal the case and kick her backwards out the window.

Hard light glass shatters everywhere as she falls to a 1950's car on the ground. Oohs, gasps and screams echo as the music begins along with her vocals. She looks to Tom and smiles as the scene changes. He appears in the scene looking like Kendrick Lamar and rapping.

As that sequence faded to ones of her with phantom celebrity others complete with names, Gwen walked straight as the scene itself scrolled. Decked in a complete black, armored leather cat suit and knee length boots, she continues to sing and perform. This leads into another scene with Gwen sitting beside Tom in a transparent hard light jet while he raps. That transforms into a scene filled with thrown Chinese stars and knives, complete with one impaling a teddy bear.

Then a winter scene with snow manifests. She performs acrobatic fighting with a swinging axe followed by a kickboxing match with her in standard kickboxing gear all the while singing the same refrain, "Cause baby now we got bad blood..."

Motorcycles flash by then its Gwen strolling by in all black again with black cat eye shadow, reddish golden hair, a clear helmet and a lit flare in her left hand. The cacophony of images slows as she announces softly yet sultry, "Band-Aids® don't fix bullet holes. You say sorry just for show." Her eyes lock with Aria's as she intones, "If you live like that, you live with ghosts. If you love like that, blood runs cold."

Dark glares exchange then Aria vanishes, thrust from the visual imagery. Yet Aria raises her arms, then thrusts them down, casting herself back into her imagery, her dancers following behind her all decking out hard light leather outfits matching the video. Gwen and her phantom crew approach as orange explosions happen all around, eliciting more oohs, aahs, gasps and screams.

Finishing her vocals, Gwen stopped before Aria, determined. "You lost." She spoke as she slapped her. At the same time, the hard light explodes into iridescent sparkles, leaving Aria and her dancers in their outfits, Gwen in the black leather cat suit and Tom in the white leisure suit complete with round sunglasses.

Principal Domo shook himself, blinking repetitively. "Miss Breton, Enough! The school board decided drama is to return. We simply cannot have any more spontaneous recitals on Saturday. The attention it causes is one of the chief reasons. Your holographic displays in another." He pulled a hard light throwing star out of his briefcase. It crumpled to dust in his hand.

Aria groaned. Gwen grinned then noticed that applause surrounded her. Winn tapped her shoulder, wearing an easy smile. Her haunted gaze gave way to delight as she embraced him.

"Morning," he said brightly. "You were amazing." She stepped back, beheld herself. A deep frown manifested.

"The cat suit suits you." A chuckle accompanied a brief tap of the lips.

She embraced him, resting her head onto his shoulder. "Thanks. I've got to go though."

"OK. Talk later? You've been gone a week and there's this weird tension."

Gwen looked to the doors leading toward the science wing, the haunted darkness returning to her face. Shaking her head softly as she shuffled away, "I know. I know."

Tom still standing afar off, suddenly remembered what Reagan told him. "Why do I always put myself in these situations with women?" Blowing out a breath, he popped open the exit door, and sprinted toward the natarium.

Tears followed behind her as she ran down the blue halls of the science wing toward the gymnasium. Badging through the doors, she clopped across the parquet floor toward the stone stairwell. Pounding upward, she dropped onto the upmost bleacher and stared. Sobs echoed in the cavernous space, its whitewashed cinderblocks cast in ebony and gold. The ebony bench beneath her hid the tears, absorbing them efficiently.

"Gwen!" Aria bellowed, miniature at the foot of the bleachers twenty feet below. "I thought I'd find you here."

"And so you did," tumbled out, its devastation crashing unnoticed.

"No, we need to go. Coach Wilkes is waiting. So is Coach Grace. Our jackets are here." Her smile looked fake. It didn't matter. Standing up, she turned to face the wall and waited.

"You really want to do this now, with 32 people waiting on our presence?" Aria said in assembly, irritation undercutting her delight. "You're embarrassing me."

Gwen spun forward, gripped hold of the railing, and slid butt first all the way down. Landing just in from her Aria, she rubbed the sides of the catsuit. "I'm embarrassing you? She wasn't another rando. How can I trust you with anything?"

"Because..." she spat back in the same threatening tone, "you and I are daughters of the seven high houses of the Assembly. She's a surface woman who can make another song."

"Just like that?" Gwen wiped her eyes, flicking them on to the floor. "NO, SHE CAN'T!" the wave words shook the ancient mercury lamps hanging from the ceiling, fluttered the various championship banners, shattered Gwen's hard light catsuit to dust and moved Aria back several inches. Yet, Aria remained resolute. All glee vanished replaced with disillusionment. "What's wrong?" she said as she took the steps forward.

Gwen stared befuddled, closing her mouth and shaking her head. Picking off stray pieces of light from her black star and paw sports bra and compression shorts, she repeated. "She's not a rando. Neither am I. How can we be friends, and share what we did if you do this?"

Aria's phone chirped and Gwen knew what it was. "We can clean this up together when you apologize." Gwen smiled hesitantly but walked to the doors alone. Turning back, she saw the horror etched on Aria's face. "No," she said almost whispering.

"No?"

"No. I can't. I'm not like you. I need that song." Aria stood still, suddenly shivering.

Biting her lip, Gwen into the now sparkling air of the gymnasium. Pine-sol and floor stripper enveloped her senses. "I can get you another one." The smile faded, replaced with grimness. "Don't do this, please."

"You know how many songs that door opens." Aria walked to the door, texting. "We have to go. I just told Coach Grace I found you. Is your phone still off?"

"Silent. And for Christina, not you. It can't open doors for you." Gwen said, clutching Aria's right hand. The rebel charm still hung, swinging free. "I can get one that can. There are numerous artists whose songs still remain even though they don't. Katy Perry has albums of secular songs that won't happen because she's still a Christian artist. Uncle Emmett bought her label, Pamplin before it folded. I even have this producer, Kayne West, he died in 2002, he has album after album of music that will go uncreated. You don't have to do this"

Aria gulped, clenched her fist and then walked past and ahead. "She's a waitress who makes bad videos who stumbled on the perfect song for an aspiring teenage singer." She pivoted around, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I need that song. Not a dead producer or an artist who changed paths." She halted at the end of the blue hallway and its run of full length lockers. The doors stood black, stoic and locked. Aria badged through, holding the door open. "I need you to let me have it."

Tears flowed again as Gwen walked through. Wiping her eyes with her hand, she grabbed her hand and hugged her. In to her ear and in English, she whispered. "I already called Uncle Emmett, and he had her watch it. She's making it now. It won't be yours." Shoving her away, Gwen walked into the admin office and announced, "Can someone tell Coach Grace, I'm here. I'm not lost."

Confusion reigned briefly. Winn looked over at her from his seat near the principal's office. "It's ok." Winn remarked softly to the secretary as she dialed.

She scowled at him. "Sorry, I am a mess today." She noticed Mr. Domo walking out of his office. "I have to go."

Bewildered, Winn paused briefly before following. Stopping just behind her, he admired her firm rear, tight against her compression shorts until she spoke.

"Mr. Domo?" came the shout; breathlessly urgent. He turned back, walking up to her.

"Ms. Breton?"

"I heard that the school board authorized the reopening of 'Ghost town'". Her fake smile held.

Mr. Domo's pleasant smile vanished, replaced with a pensive scowl. "They did. In three years though. That's not public knowledge. Where did you get that?"

"Lucky guess?" she replied sheepishly.

"Everyone who lives in the district served by that high school will return there when it reopens," Mr. Domo remarked dismissive. "Not that it would matter to you, Ms. Breton, as you will graduate by then. Anything else?"

"Where will Drama be held," Gwen asked politely. She looked to Winn for assurance but he was staring off at Aria heatedly arguing with Tom.

"In the choir room, next year." With that, he walked off.

Gwen stared at him as he walked off, horrified. The year is over... She felt a hand reach around her, slowly turn her back. Winn was standing there, tears in his eyes but a smile on his face. "We are the biggest fools, you know."

"I'm sorry," she offered, hugging him.

"For what? Revealing that you still care? Things change. They suck." Winn said, his hand sliding into hers.

She squeezed it, trying to hold back her own tears. "We can't." Glancing at the clock, shock crept over her. "OMG! I forgot about the practice." She ran off tugging him to follow. So he did. He sprinted with her to the CheerHouse. At the front doors, he leaned his head in, touching his forehead to hers. "Don't let her get inside. She can't do any damage then."

"I know. I chose 'Bad Blood' for a reason. She already did. I don't know how to fix it and still be her friend." She said humbly. Pulling open the doors, she crossed the marble floor hastily. 'Broken Things' by Clairity rumbled in her mind as she flew toward the locker room.

Aria stood beside a smiling Kaylie leading them through the warm-up. It was the first time she had led it and she beamed with delight. While doing the lunges, Kaylie asked her, "Do you know what's wrong with Gwen. She hasn't said anything to any of us since Worlds. It's just not like her."

"I don't know either. Honestly, I'm not person to ask." She stopped, biting her tongue. "And thanks again for this fabulous opportunity."

Kaylie laughed, luscious golden curls bouncing as they framed her oval face. Buxom and curvy, her cobalt eyes connected with Aria's forehead. A quick nod at her co-captain and mirror image sister, Emily sealed the deal with a hand sign. "That's the third time you've thanked me. As much as everyone likes to rag on you because of your pursuit of fame and popularity, we honestly don't know what we would do if you left. You're a part of the family."

Just then, Gwen sauntered in, glancing around, worry lines furrowing her face. Winn snuck in behind and stood on the side of the mats watching her as she headed over to the squad.

"So nice of you to join us!" Emily quipped, waving her over.

Aria ignored her, the hurt in her eyes evident. She connected with Winn who looked away. A dark smile curled her lips. "Winn looks luscious today."

"I thought he was your best guy friend?"

"He is. He's also unattached. Sort of." Aria let the words tumble out. Biting her lips briefly, she frowned. "She still betrayed me."

Kaylie said nothing, but noticed that Winn was watching Aria with wistful expression.

"You can't steal him from her if you ever want to restore what broke at Worlds. You do want to repair it?"

"Who said I was. If he came, he would come willingly. I'm not her."

Kaylie closed her eyes to hide her expression.

Aria sighed. Cheerleading is fun but I need more. I need to get a music contract. Without it, I am nothing but an ocean girl who uploads cover videos to YouTube. Uncle Lee did promise he'd help though. Still, I have no boyfriend again. Few real friends. I do have hope though. Is it enough?

Winn stopped by the mats, leaning against the paneled wall as Gwen ran over to her squad. What do I want? I know I didn't tell her I was angry about the rumor that she and Tom were caught making out in her room. Aria loves drama but why lie about your best friend and your boyfriend together unless they were.

He caught Aria watching him. I wonder? He smiled. Now that Tom is out of the picture maybe it will work with her? Her music is magic. Even more than Gwen when she does sing. I just don't want to ruin what we have. Still...yeah, go for it.

Tom broke the surface and bobbed in lane one of the Olympic sized training pool. Coach Anders stood beside the edge, his thick, broad form eclipsing the lights above him. He shouted out the time, this huge toothy grin as he gestured to the others floating about Tom's time.

Yet, Tom replayed the words Reagan told him. If he was to fulfill anything Lorelei promised him was to happen, he had to bond with Gwen. Pulling himself out with all that anger at himself about the choice, he scooped up a towel and patted himself down. Cheer was over for him; they were in a new phase. One that began at the upcoming party. Somehow, he needed to convince her to assume her true form. Otherwise that month in Austin at the Ashcroft house, hiding and mourning Lorelei would be wasted. She wouldn't return. Karma would be wasted.

Chuckling at the bad pun, he rubbed the video sphere he had pulled from his locker. Lorelei had put memories and events on it. One was coming up. "I won't break my promise to you, Lorelei. She can hate me forever, but I love her and you. I haven't forgotten." Putting it into its protective space, he rinsed off, got dressed and texted Gwen that he would be at the party. No matter what.

Due to music lyric rights, the actual lyrics cannot be included. Please click the link or watch the video.

Due to Music lyrics rights, these lyrics cannot be displayed. Please watch the video or click the link.