"I'm going to lose my mind."

        I reach over Jun to grab the pen from his hand, but he holds it high enough that I can't grab it.

        "At least let someone else write it down if you're going to scramble your brain for breakfast." Another attempt is thwarted. "Rami, tell him to give me the pen."

"Give her the pen."

"No."

        Rami turns to me. "He said no."

        "Are you kidding me?"

        "...No? You heard him."

        "I meant why aren't you helping me out more."

        "Oh." Rami looks at the pen. And then back to me. "I'm kind of tired. Don't feel like walking over there and getting it myself."

        Jun looks smug.

        Scoring one for team women, Lauren snatches the pen out of Jun's hand and forces him to give her the notebook where we've been attempting to write down all of our ideas about the Grammy's performance.

        It's been a good hour and we still haven't been able to settle on a setlist for our medley, specifically what order we want to play the songs in. The obvious choice is to play all of the singles but we're stubborn and want to try something new. Going against the grain is our specialty, whether people like it or not.

        The Recording Academy has requested we, at the very least, play Overnight Rush, which makes sense since it's the most nominated song off of the album. And we already know The L is going to be included somewhere, along with an appearance by our favorite spoon, but the other selections are up in the air.

        "This is the lead single debacle all over again," Seira groans before dropping back onto the carpet. She's only half pretending like she's paying attention anymore; that is definitely the theme music from Cooking Mama coming from her phone. "Wake me up when you've all decided."

        "Generous of Seira to keep her opinions to herself this time," Jun chides.

        She pulls her phone to the side and narrows her eyes at him. "Come again?"

        "You heard me."

        "That's it."

        She curses under her breath, having burnt whatever she is cooking in her game. After tossing her phone aside, she pulls herself up and dusts her hands off before making her way over to him. Jun hops over the back of the couch before she can get her hands on him, and the two start chasing each other through the house, only narrowly missing Jenny as she walks into the house carrying a venti drink from Starbucks. Pixie cut girl must be working.

        "Can't we have one normal meeting? Please?"

        "Normal is relative, Jenny," I reply. "This is normal for us. Hell will freeze over before we don't act like a bunch of wonky artichokes."

        "Okay, this is getting ridiculous. The next time I see Maverick, I'm strangling him for getting you into these damn vegetable insults."

        "At least she isn't calling you a knork," Jun says as he whizzes by with Seira on his tail.

        Jenny drops down onto the sofa next to me and grabs the notebook from Lauren's hand, pulling out a pen from her purse before she can even be offered one. "Stevie knows better than to call me a knork."

        "Have I told you how beautiful you look today—"

        "Save it." Jenny holds up her hand. "All you've written here is The L with Maverick. I left over an hour ago to finish my errands."

        "Look, nobody is perfect—"

        She looks to Rami for help. Good luck trying to get any of that from the rest of us—two of us are quite literally running around the house and the other two are trying not to think about the giant zits we have on our chins because we're synced up and still planning hysterectomies.

        He looks like he'd rather be off helping Marty with whatever he's doing, but he thinks it over for a second. "Maybe we do something similar to the homecoming show and do, like, a cold open. Slow crawl in with Thousand Miles for more of just the atmosphere. And then transition into something else."

        "Ooh—" I lean over and grab the notebook from Jenny, ripping her pen from her hand. "That's a good idea. Do some cool harmonies with Lauren and Seira and what-not. What if we follow it up with that same kind of drop that we did and then Maverick is actually the one at the front of the stage? Music stops. Lights go off. And then bam, he's right there. He could play the piano and do the opening for The L."

        Lauren laughs, "First time in his life he'll be the first one to show up."

        "Okay. I think we're onto something." I turn around to look for the other two, but they're still somewhere else in the house. "Think we should wait around for them?"

        Jenny shoves the notebook into my face. "No, just figure it out. They're asking us to confirm the setlist as soon as possible."

        I salute her. "Okay, captain."

        Getting ourselves together for once, we manage to spend the next hour working out the intricacies of the performance—which sections of each song we want to play, how we want the stage to be lit, where members will go throughout the performance to get the crowd going. We haven't played at many award shows, and especially not one as big as the Grammys, but once we get over the initial hump, this part of planning a performance is fun. Once our creative juices are flowing, there are no limits to our imagination, and we're lucky enough to be in a position where we can get almost anything we want once our vision is realized. Jun and Seira join us about halfway through, worn out from wrestling each other upstairs. (Seira won.)(Of course.)

        By the time we're done, Jenny has finished her entire drink, and she's more than thrilled to have a final list in her hands. She quickly sets off to send it to Marty so he can inform the showrunners. Jenny will also likely email Maverick the details so he can stay in the loop. Most of his input will have to wait until rehearsals a couple of days before since he's not in the States at the moment. I send him a quick text to give him a heads up to play nice when she does; he's still on thin ice with Jenny over the photobooth incident at the Escape Velocity launch party. (Everleigh, on the other hand, is perfectly fine.)(Women supporting women.)

        Now that we have that sorted, we don't have anything else on our agendas for the rest of the year. I think this realization hits us all at the same time because as soon as Jenny leaves into one of the other rooms so she can focus without us bothering her, we all share a look. Like we're on the verge of watching our lives completely change forever but stuck in limbo waiting for the big moment to happen.

        Jun is the first to brave breaking the silence. "Do you remember the first show we played back in Hawaii?"

        "Yeah," Lauren laughs. "Stevie tripped over a cord. Rami accidentally stabbed himself in the eye with his drumstick. Pretty sure you almost missed the bus there."

        Seira flicks her hair over her shoulder. "I was flawless."

        "Of course you were." I joke. "Someone had to be."

        "Right? Pulling through for the team."

        God, that first show was a mess. It took place at some dingy bar on O'ahu that closed down a few years ago. (Likely should have closed down earlier if we were being honest. That place was a health hazard.) Most of us weren't even old enough to drink. At least we were all best friends by that point, though. It made it easier to brave the terrifying nature of performing in front of a live audience for the first time.

        As I was waiting for the first song to start, I thought the night was never going to end. And when I tripped over a cord while walking onto the stage, I wanted it to end as soon as possible. Rip the bandaid off so I can go back to licking my wounds at home.

        But then we started playing, the audience seemed to enjoy what we were doing, and I realized it was all in my head. By the time the end of the night did come around, I was hopelessly devastated to let it go. In all of its messy glory, the night MARS was officially born will forever be one of the most memorable moments of my life, and I'm eternally grateful for it.

        "Do you ever wish you could go back?" I ask while looking out at the rest of our band. "Not like we don't love where we're at now. Just...out of nostalgia. Relive the start of it all again."

       Everyone looks at each other thoughtfully, simultaneously pleased with where we are but still reminiscing on where we came from. In these reflective moments, it's easy to feel like we've been watching ourselves from the outside this entire time, not fully experiencing everything this life has to offer us. But once we're able to truly think it over, it hits us like a violent wave crashing against the shore. There's no use in just standing there, waiting for something that can never return, especially when we're moving too quickly toward what's ahead of us. But sometimes, it's nice to enjoy the view for a while.

        "Yeah," Jun answers softly. Reaching to the side out of pure instinct, he runs his hand along Lauren's arm, not stopping until their fingers intertwine.

        I smile. This is undoubtedly one of those changes that's more than welcome.

        "Not to be a downer, but do you ever think about what it'll be like when we say goodbye to all of this?" Seira asks.

        Rami looks over at her. "Which part?"

        Her eyes travel around the room. "This house and us in it. One day we're going to start wanting to branch off. And then MARS one day probably has to end, right?"

      There's a layer of fear laced between her words. As if she's aware of the inevitability of all but still fears it coming to fruition. Truthfully, I've thought about it a lot recently. Living together in one house at our ages isn't odd or bizarre, but the older we get, the more we'll want to create our own space. I already know Jun and Lauren will be the first ones to go. Maybe Rami and Seira find their own places after. Perhaps I spend a little too much time at the house next door that this one becomes the place in which I turn into a guest.

        As if reading my thoughts, Rami replies, "All good things come to an end. But not every end is the same. MARS will end but we—" he gestures at all of us, "—will never end. Just continue onto a new existence."

        It would be too easy to let ourselves get caught up in worrying about the end—or, as Rami put it eloquently, the end that isn't an end. But why waste living in some future version of us when we can live in the now? As cheesy as it is, it's the thought process I choose to subscribe to. Timing is already such a strange thing on its own. There's no reason we need to mess with it further.

        "Think we should win ourselves an album of the year, first," Lauren exhales with a laugh.

        Seira returns the smile. "Why stop there? I say we go for two."

       "Two?" I scoff. "Three is the minimum or we quit now."

        All jokes aside, our trajectory can only go up from here. Whether we win all of these awards or none of them, I have to believe that.

        "As long as we all agree Stevie is never winning an Oscar." Seira flicks me in the knee. "She really thought she was pretending to not be in love with boy wonder these past few years."

        And that's when I take my leave. Save the sappy reminiscing for another day where I'm not the target of their teasing that I know is heading straight for the bullseye. I roll my eyes and stand up so I can grab a drink. Maybe bug Jenny until she threatens to quit again. "Jun was the only one that cashed in on that so I wouldn't gloat so much."

        As soon as I walk away, Seira calls out to me. "Oh, and Stevie?"

        "What?"

        Seira winks. "I told you so."