36 | Brownies

"With one character's name, describe your life."

"Andy Dwyer," Lawrence replied too quickly, hugging the heart-shaped pillow to his chest. He lied on a couch, listening to Brennan ask him questions which were supposedly to help him in his romantic problems.

Brennan pondered over the answer, pacing in front of his friend. Montana and Jessica stood close by, watching.

"And that's including your love life?" asked Brennan.

Lawrence shook his head rapidly, "Are you kidding me? Andy Dwyer's love life? In the love sector, I'm more of an Ann Perkins."

"That's a grave situation, son."

Apparently, interrogating Lawrence about Parks and Rec was going to help Lawrence in the love department. At least, that was Brennan's belief. I was waiting for Jessica to explode and step in, claiming that it wasn't the right way to do it.

We were at the Dales' residence, the living room. And I never thought I'd step a foot in here again. The girls and I gathered around as a circle, brainstorming for ideas for tomorrow. Yes, the grand performance to determine our fate was tomorrow.

That was why Walter gave us his house to practice in.

To take things more 'fun', Brennan had to invite over Jess, Lawrence and Montana. Along with me, they were basically his group of friends. For a famous person, Brennan Dale's social life was weak.

"Ollie, what haven't you written down now?" Shai asked me. I looked down at my notebook. For the past few hours, we were stumped. We didn't know how to go about for tomorrow night.

"Uh," I squinted at the pages, "Carmela suggested confetti canons, Ritzi wants dance moves to be included, Phoebe goes for the instruments, and you, Shai, want maxi dresses for costumes . . . ?"

"Okay, in my opinion, the maxi dresses are way out of the line," Ritzi voiced out.

"What about your dance moves? Last time I checked, we were a singing group," Shai argued back. Oh God.

I blew out a small breath, tapping my pencil on the notebook. I've been acting secretary for the time, at Violet's absence, and I'd prefer to stay out of the loop. A soft tune echoed in my ears from the headphones over my head.

I just decided to borrow those from Lawrence to ease myself.

In order to clear hostile tension, Phoebe turned to me, "What about you, Ollie? Do you have any ideas?"

I merely shrugged, smiling apologetically.

Tomorrow, we were up against other groups and artists. Only one record deal could be really given out. It was basically a competition and we were coming up with nothing.

My attention was attracted yet again by my friends over at the couch. Montana was lazily lounging on a cushioned chair, nibbling on a granola bar. Jessica seemed to be angry at both boys.

"I'm sorry, but I don't see why this will work on Lawrence," Jess said, giving Brennan a dirty look. Bless that girl.

"But Jess, it works!" Lawrence whined, squirming around with his heart pillow. "I'm now sad and miserable and I'll do anything for a girlfriend!"

The look Brennan gave Jess was teasing. And arrogant. "See? He's doing just fine. I told you I can make him feel all better. Asking him about his favorite Parks and Rec character haves him relate to that person so we could explore his love life more easier."

Montana arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Doing fine? I'm his matchmaker and he's not doing fine! I know what's best for him!" Jess was now irritated by Brennan's behavior. I guessed he reminded her of her exes. And poor Lawrence was still cuddling his pillow.

Brennan held out a hand to shush Jess. "No, no, say no more. Just accept that this is the perfect life. You know, all of us together, in one place. But there's just a person who is missing . . ."

And what happened next was creepy.

All at the same time, every head in the room turned to me. I was scribbling down on the notebook but I could feel their burning gazes – even the girls were staring. Looking up slowly, I carefully took off my headphones.

"What? Uh, am I not getting something here? Because I'm not the missing person, guys. I'm right here." I waved my hand for effect.

Oh no, I wasn't invisible again, was I?

Just like that, they went back to their own things, pretending like nothing happened. It just dawned on me. They were still sympathetic. It was because Jackson's the missing person and it just wasn't complete without him.

Even the girls thought I was hurting still.

But frankly, I was doing well.

Removing the headphones which slung around my neck just now, I noticed a piece of candy inside one of the earpieces – in one of those buns. I pinched it between my fingers.

"Lawrence, why is there a Skittle in your headphones?" I asked with my eyes on the candy.

"I don't know," Lawrence replied, "I was drunk, maybe. Or I was playing with Skittles with it on me. Or I might've used those headphones as a plate one time."

A pause. Then he added, "You're not going to eat it, are you?"

Pressing my lips into a fine line, I flicked the Skittle away, hoping it landed on a far spot. After checking the headphones in case of more candies inside, I put it on again. So that was why my sweet senses were tingling.

Carmela sighed exasperatedly. "What are we going to do now? We can't blow this whole thing. We need help." Murmurs of agreement followed.

Shai and Ritzi, though very similar, wouldn't agree to anything the other said. Carmela – no offense to her – added to the negativity buzz and just told us what to do. And Phoebe would have lame attempts in making peace with everyone.

I set the notebook down and the pencil followed. "Brennan! Why don't you come over here and help us out like adult you are! Aren't you the eldest around here?"

"Technically, we're the same age," Montana raised her hand, speaking for the first time.

"And I'm twenty-eight – that makes me eldest," Ritzi raised her hand, too.

"Whatever," I waved my hand to brush it off, "Brennan, Walter left you in charge to help us out and support us in here. That's why you're here with us while he runs off to an unexpected dentist appointment, remember?"

"But you guys are awesome and smart so you can figure it out yourselves, remember?" he mocked.

"Brennan Brutus!" I threatened. His face turned white in horror, at the mention of his middle name. The others just looked at him in confusion. This sent him running towards our circle.

"Now," I sniggered, putting my hands flat against each other under my chin. "What do you say we do tomorrow? And no stupid answers."

Brennan had his thinking face on as he crouched behind Ritzi and Carmela. "What do you have so far? Singing-wise, I mean. We'll go to the stage presentation later on."

I picked up the dreaded notebook again. We were going nowhere. Everyone had opposing ideas and we'd spent a lot of time debating over it. Pathetically, I'd just keep quiet and let the arguments pass.

"Okay, so we've got singing solo, where each of us gets to sing the song of our choice onstage. On our own," I recited, "Phoebe's idea."

"I think it'll show the judges what we have individually. Because even if we're singing one by one, we'll still be Divide and Conquer," Phoebe explained. Damn, this girl had a point.

I tapped the pencil on my chin. If this was going to go on for a long time, I'll be forced to eat the eraser on it.

"That's not a good idea!" Shai protested, "I think we should be true to our name, 'Divide and Conquer' and show them what we have and what's unique about us! Ollie, Ollie! Read aloud my suggestion!"

I slightly winced and flipped to another page, "Uh, so Shai said – uh – that we should perform one song, showing the different mixing of groups. So some parts, there will be one whole, three together, two together and solo and you get the idea."

"See?" Shai looked proud and bright. The rest were impassive. "That way we can show that whatever cluster we sing in, it still sounds good on one song!"

It was Carmela's turn to butt in, "First of all, Sharon, you don't understand the real meaning of my idea of 'Divide and Conquer'. Second, your idea is dumb. Singing in different clusters will be messy. Ollie, what's my great idea again?"

Flipping again through the notebook. The pages creased as I thumbed page after page. "For Carmela," I read, "She wants us to sing one song as a group. That way, everybody will get their singing part and we could sing as a whole."

"Guys, at first, they should see a united group, not something that doesn't know what to do. They see a girl group, they have a girl group," said Carmela.

Now, we were all looking at Ritzi for her share of argument. She gave me a hand motion for me to read her side.

"So Ritzi says we should do a cappella and apply that to a mash-up of songs."

The others – even Brennan, it looked like – seemed like Ritzi's idea was the worst. Ritzi herself was furious for the unrecognized genius behind it. "So yeah, it's a cappella," she defended, "But imagine this. Without musical accompaniment, they'll be hearing what our voices could really do. And with a mash-up, we could showcase our voices involving different pitches, tunes and range."

"There's the point there," Brennan nodded.

"Ritzi, we're Divide and Conquer, not the Barden Bellas," Carmela deadpanned.

Before another war broke out, Brennan decided to step in. But I knew he just wanted to get back to Lawrence who was currently being scolded by Jessica.

"So we'll do this," he rubbed his hands together, "Obviously, we can't figure out our approach for the stage performance. I want each of you to take any room in the house – mine is open and welcome, too – and practice singing by yourselves. So later, we can come together again and strategize things."

"Dibs on the kitchen," I called out first. The others called out their territories, too.

Brennan explained that no one was going to leave their respective areas until the time was up.

Once everyone was sure we agreed on this plan, the girls stood up and retreated to their territories. But before I went to my safe haven, I went up first to my friends.

"You know, it's kind of great you guys spread out. The estrogen was suffocating me here," Brennan told me.

Then, Jessica was suddenly jabbing her finger on Brennan's chest, looking at Lawrence, "You don't trust this guy! You may be Andy Dwyer, but this one is Tom Haverford."

"No, listen," said Brennan, "Law, you just haven't found your April Ludgate yet. And trust me, you will."

Lawrence, still on his therapy couch, looked back and forth between his friend and matchmaker. It was like the angel-devil thing on both shoulders. Except in this case, Jess and Brennan were both the devils.

"I have found my April Ludgate," Lawrence croaked, "She just doesn't know it."

Aw, poor baby.

At those words, Brennan's face lit up, "Really? Wait, is it a celebrity? Name whoever, Law, I'll gladly get her for you."

"Oh my goodness," Montana massaged her forehead.

An overwhelming silence filled the room. Brennan waited for Lawrence's answer, and Lawrence was eyeing Jessica, but I didn't think she caught the hint. Montana was the kind of person who stood afar as a spectator, facepalming at everything happening.

So I decided to step in, "Lawrence, Jess, why can't you just acknowledge the sexual tension between you both? I mean, Law, you obviously like her and Jess, I know you feel the same so why don't you two just kiss and get it over with?"

Jess was mortified. Lawrence was gaping. Brennan looked sly.

"Fine," Lawrence stood up abruptly, "fine. Jess, I like you, okay? Among the other girls I've ever chased my whole life, I just can't not have you. I'll do anything for you, I'll do everything for you."

Brennan let out a low whistle.

"Lawrence," Jess was beet red, "You know I don't feel that way. You know I can't."

"But if you give me one chance –"

"Lawrence Riley, enough!"

Lawrence looked crestfallen. Jess had her arms around herself. When they did address the thing between them, it just blew up into something awkward for the both of them.

Lawrence hung his head low, "So be that way. Just keep in mind that I'll always be here waiting for you." I frowned. This was a cliché tragic. At least Jackson and I didn't beat around the bush. But then again, Jess and Law had issues.

"You both will come around someday," I shook my head slowly at them. Then, I elbowed Brennan on the side, who looked like he came across the best pairing ever.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" I whispered to him.

He pulled himself out of his daze and said 'yes'. We both walked out of the living room and then aimlessly around the halls.

"Honestly, I didn't expect I'll step foot in here ever again," I shoved my hands inside my pockets, "But maybe I'll be seeing a lot of this house if we get that record deal."

"You know, if you aren't part of Divide and Conquer, I'd probably hire you to be my personal chef," he said. That got a laugh out of me.

"It's just that," I swallowed, "This is what I've been avoiding my whole life – Hollywood, being famous, working for a spot in the musical industry. I'm afraid of what it can do to me. That when I get in there, I won't be the same person anymore."

We stopped. Brennan faced me and put a hand on my shoulder, "Ollie, we talked about this, remember? Hollywood should be afraid of you. You will never let it change you."

"But you and Montana –"

"Maybe it turned Monty –"

"Montana."

He huffed, "Maybe it turned Montana into an overdramatic attention-deprived person. But look at me! My job didn't change me into a conceited and overconfident being!"

I looked at him pointedly.

Brennan gave a small smile. "Who's to say it's not a cover, Ollie? I mean, in Hollywood, it's eat or be eaten. This is my way of tackling it, you have yours."

"But with the girls and everything going on, I'm not so sure about this anymore. Do you think I should . . . ?"

"No, absolutely not. Do you know why I'm so set on revealing your talent to everyone?"

I shook my head.

"It's because you're special. And I know special if I've seen it. I'm not letting you slip away," he began, "Back before, I was in this restaurant you see, and the singer for the night didn't make it. So they put in a substitute – this random young boy. And when he sung, damn, he killed it. But that night I never got to talk to him and from then on I never saw him again. He was an unrecognized talent."

I thought for a while, "Did you get his name?"

Brennan tapped his head, "Rose? Ross? Royce . . . yeah, I think it was Royce."

I started laughing. My, my, what a small world it was. "Royce Blakely? Royce!" I exclaimed happily, "I know him!"

"You do?"

"Yes! Have you never seen him around Reynold Records? His dad works for mine, so he's always there. I can't believe you've never seen him again."

"Then I have to offer this kid a record deal," he chuckled.

"Yes, but technically he belongs to Reynold Records, so I've got dibs on him," I said proudly, "When we get that record deal, I'm making him a star."

"But thanks for tell me that," we started to walk again.

"So," I breathed deeply, "How's Jackson by the way? Is he around in here?"

"Why is it when we're alone together you always ask about him? I'm hurt."

I pinched him. That always did the trick. "Okay!" he brought his hands up, "He's in his room! And we both know he's not coming out of it."

Then, we went back to the living room, where Lawrence and Jess were sitting on the same couch, but on opposite ends, refusing to look at each other. Montana looked like she hasn't moved an inch.

"Hey, Hey," Brennan bounced, clapping his hands, "You know a ship name for you both? For Jess and Law? Someone ask me what their ship name is!"

"Please enlighten us, Brennan," I crossed my arms.

"J-Law!" he shouted out, "Their ship name is –" Before he could continue, Montana took the liberty to slap him.

But vanilla, that ship name was good.

"You guys behave yourselves. Montana is in charge. I'm off to the kitchen," I was almost out the room when Brennan called out for me.

"Ollie, can you make me brownies?"

"I don't work for you anymore, Brutus," I said without turning around.

"Ollie, can you please make me brownies?" It was Lawrence this time.

I cracked a smile, "Sure thing."

"Injustice!" Brennan shouted out.

♫ ♫ ♫

You know that feeling when you know what to do, you know you have to do it and you have the motivation to but you really just can't?

That was my feeling right now, as I mixed the batter for the brownies. I knew I should sing, but I just couldn't bring myself to. I was comfortable in my safe haven, but for some reason, the stars weren't aligning in my favor today.

Hesitantly, I started singing Big Girls Don't Cry. But not even on the second note, I felt awkward and I stopped. Damn it, I needed music. I couldn't sing by my own.

I knew it was the same circumstance when I was in the shop, but this time, people were listening. It wasn't just Oliver, the mop, and the kitchen. This was the real deal. And I just couldn't sing. I started off slowly but then broke off when it got weird.

I bet my ass Brennan and the others were still in the living room doing shenanigans. I could already hear Ritzi singing along with her phone, never mind that it was off key. Carmela was somewhere, but I didn't know where specifically. I would hear her low voice every now and then. And up to now, still no clue where Phoebe and Shai were.

I knocked on my head with a wooden spatula. Why couldn't I just sing? I started again, with the same song and skipped to the chorus part. But then in the middle, I just stopped and groaned.

The only productive thing I was accomplishing was the brownies.

"Damn it, Ollie, think of it like you're alone in the bathroom," I coaxed myself.

Shut up, brain. You're not even drunk. So I'm not going to talk to myself.

"Yeah, but you know very well what you want at this moment. Or who you want."

I know who, so stop acting like it's a damn secret. Better yet, shut up.

"You're the one speaking, dumbass," I muttered.

Sighing, I popped the brownie batter into the oven to cook. Then, I put my head against the counter. This was infuriating. Where was that moment where you decided to just randomly sing? The moment worthy of a Disney movie?

Maybe if I get drunk . . .

"Don't even think about it."

Groaning once again, I closed my eyes and started humming just for the sake of it. I just hummed and hummed, without letting my mouth form words or lyrics. I just needed to build up the moment. A perfect moment for me to sing exceptionally.

And just like a snap, the moment dissipated when Brennan went inside the kitchen.

"What's cooking?" Brennan casually strolled inside. I wanted to prepare the bleach for my eyes once I saw him – once I saw what he was wearing.

Skin-tight pants, a crop top and sequins. Then pearl accessories. Cowboy boots. I'll leave the vivid details to the imagination.

"Brownies," I mumbled, "and my non-singing mood."

"You'll get it soon, Ollie," he patted my head, "And later on, let me know if the brownies are ready."

My eyebrows arched, "What's with the clothes?"

Brennan did a twirl for me to see all of it. I covered my eyes. "There's this fashion show we're having. To see who can come up with the craziest outfit. Montana's the judge."

"And . . . even Jessica's in it?"

"Oh yeah, she kind of developed this competitive vibe towards me," Brennan continued to show off his body. I continued to wish I wasn't born.

I shuddered, thinking what monstrosity Lawrence could come up with.

"About Jess and Lawrence," said Brennan, "I'm not kidding about the ship. I'm calling them J-Law and I'm going to make sure they end up together."

I rested a hand on my hip and cocked it out, "Now wait a minute right there, you are not going to do that. I discovered them first and I am the captain of their ship."

"And I'm your first mate?" he suggested.

My face twisted in disgust, "How would you even get them together? Look what you did to Jackson and I. Does taking command on another ship sound like a perfect idea to you?"

"Technically, I was a rocking captain of your ship," he told me, "If your dad hadn't meddled, it wouldn't have sunk. But still, I don't think it has sunken yet. More like halfway through because you have a chance. And my ideas are perfect, thank you – the chicken blocking, the teasing, the therapy box – "

He gasped, "That's it! The therapy box!"

"No, no!" My eyes widened, "You are not locking them inside a room!"

Brennan only laughed manically and sauntered out the room. I tried to reach for him but I held onto the wall and stretched my hand. The rule of not leaving our territories still stood, and I wasn't going to break it.

Making a sound resembling a roar, I took out my phone and called Montana, telling her not to let Brennan lock the lovebirds in the therapy box.

They might suffocate there. And I knew very well that Lawrence was hungry at this moment.

I went back to the brownies in despair. My inner self was right; I significantly needed Jackson. Although he could be quite insulting, he was my motivator and supporter all the time. His patience was endless and right now, if we were together, he'd be hugging me and making everything feel better.

My stressed out mind was going berserk.

And I couldn't just barge into his room and demand for comfort. That boy avoided me like I was a Destiel non-shipper. At first sight, he'd probably escape through his grilled window. Or he'd lash out on me and put on his stone cold mask.

I missed him. Terribly.

I wanted to take him back, but sadly, now wasn't the right time.

"Oliver," somebody whispered behind me. I turned to the kitchen entrance to see Carmela peeking through.

"C? I thought there was the rule . . ." I trailed off, approaching her.

"I know, I know. So I claimed the hallways for myself so basically, I could go anywhere as long as I don't step a foot inside," she said.

"Genius. So what's up?"

She told me bluntly, "This plan isn't working. Clearly. Ritzi won't listen to me because she's stuck in karaoke heaven. And Phoebe and Shai promised to have their own sides in the bathroom, but they're just getting it on inside."

"Oh, well, maybe we should meet again and work this out," I sighed in relief.

"Rule not in effect anymore. I'll get Ritzi and we meet in the bathroom."

And so we did that. Carmela successfully slapped Ritzi out of her dreamland. I worried that if Ritzi sung any longer, she'd lose her voice. When we got to the bathroom, Phoebe and Shai didn't even bother to lock it.

So here we were, standing next to the sink, watching the two girls kiss.

"Are they . . . like this often?" I asked Carmela softly.

"Uh, they have a high . . . libido," she responded.

Ritzi was still mad at us for interrupting her song number. She grabbed Phoebe's foot, and yanked her away from Shai. "Shame on you, Phoebe, is this what you were taught before?" Ritzi said.

Phoebe turned even redder, wiping her lips free of saliva. She turned to us and smoothed out her shirt. Shai was glaring at Ritzi.

"The solo thing isn't working," Carmela informed all of us, "So we need a new plan. The performance is tomorrow, for God's sake."

Then it just hit me. Strongly. "Guys," I whispered, "It might be the brownies talking, but I have an idea."

"There are brownies?" asked Shai.

"Yes, in the kitchen, but –" Before I could finish, the girls madly dashed out the bathroom to head for the kitchen. I calmly followed, thinking over my idea.

Once I got to my safe haven, the girls were on the table, snacking on the plate of brownies laid out. Oops. Guess I have to make another batch for Lawrence. Sorry, Riley.

"What I think is that we can practice only one song together and strategize later. It doesn't matter how we do it – it just matters that we sing. Soon, maybe we can make a compromise," I told the girls, "And that way, we can suggest how to revise the song we sing to make it our own." They nodded, with mouthfuls of brownies.

So food was the solution. Huh. What a miracle.

I sat down with them, completing the circle. Phoebe had a question, "What song should we sing?"

I reached out for one brownie in the pile. "I think we should use the voting now," Ritzi suggested, "We're already an odd number and Ollie can be our tiebreaker."

"No, we'll only end up voting for our own ideas," Carmela protested, "We should draw lots. Let somebody else pick out the songs."

They all stared at me for my decision. Wow, I never had this much responsibility. "Draw lots is nice," I nodded.

And so we got Montana to write the songs of her choice in slips of paper. She plucked out one paper at random and we were all at the edge of our seats as she read the title of the song.

Fergalicious.

We all came to a mutual agreement that it was just for practice, and not the final song. But Montana thought it would be funny for us to sing it onstage. The cover we did was amazing, and shockingly, no more disputes occurred during the practice.

And oh, who won the fashion show?

Surprisingly, it was Lawrence who won. Jess was bitter because she had been pretty sure Montana was going to choose her. They were tight after all.

Lawrence wore a typical office outfit, with the dress shirt and slacks and all. Monty claimed it was crazy since anyone with that kind of job could be cuckoo in the head.

And they had to clean their eyeballs upon seeing Brennan.

After all that, I regretted that Jackson missed it.

♫ ♫ ♫

We huddled in the backstage for our show. My hands were cold. I never thought I would actually make it this far. I wondered if I was going to be as nervous if we ever get picked for the record label. But first, I had to worry about Montana yanking my hair out.

"You were prettier as a blonde," she mumbled, brushing through the tangled locks.

I snorted, "Please don't start with me." Maybe it was a mistake letting Montana be my fashion manager tonight. But then again, Mom would screw me over twice as much.

For the millionth time today, I rubbed my hands on my jeans. Thank God Montana went easy on my clothes. And everything now was scaring me. There are people out there in the concert area – the same concert area Brennan sung in. That seemed like a thousand years ago.

And the girls? They were prepping their voices. Out there, we'll be vulnerable – the spotlight will be hunting us. We had to make this count.

"I never got to hear what you guys planned," said Montana, "What did you guys come up with?"

I explained it to her, "After finishing that plate of brownies, we decided we do a mix of our ideas. Get this – we have more than five minutes for our performance. So at first, we'll sing solo onstage, each of us. The song of our choice. Then after that, we come together and sing one song."

"Divide and Conquer indeed . . ." she put more powder on my nose, "Why are you sweaty so much? Are you first to come up onstage?"

"At the solos, I'm actually fourth in line," I took a deep breath, "But Monty, I'm scared."

She stroked my cheek with the back of her hand, her knuckles lightly caressing my skin. So I guessed this was her creepy way of showing encouragement and affection. "No need to be scared. But it's perfectly normal. You're going to do superb out there."

"Wait a minute . . ." she suddenly realized something, "You didn't agree with the confetti cannon and the instruments, did you?"

"No," I frowned, "God no."

The anxiety was radiating from my back. To ease her nerves, Phoebe was chomping on a bag of nuts. Ritzi was practicing her song softly. Shai checked herself on the mirror every five seconds. And Carmela was the one all out panicking, cradling herself.

A knock sounded from the door. Walter went inside the dressing room, one hand covering his eyes.

Montana sighed, "It's okay, Walter. They're decent." And carefully, he put his hand down.

He faced my sister, "You don't mind, I have to give them the pep talk."

"And here comes the awful pep talk," Montana chuckled lightly and slipped outside but not before giving me a hug.

"Okay girls, come over now," Walter summoned us. We hopped out of our seats and gathered in the middle as our usual circle.

"You're going to go out there and give your all, okay?" he told us, making eye contact one by one, "Here's what I tell every singer I've made famous: It doesn't matter what the crowd thinks. It doesn't matter what the judges think. Just stand on the stage, and fly away, let your voice carry you."

"If you don't get this, it won't end here, I promise. I see tons of potential in you girls, and frankly, Dale Studios hasn't had a girl group yet, but you could always be the first. You go out there because this is for yourself, and not anybody else. You're going out there because you want to free your voice. Because you have a talent. Right now, to me, you've already won that record deal."

I closed my eyes. No, so I won't be doing this for Jackson, or Brennan and not to prove my Dad wrong. I'll be doing this because this was what I've been dreaming for, for years.

The girls and I gave a massive group hug, pushing Violet in the middle. I guessed Walter's speech uplifted everyone. At least a bit.

We all waited in the dressing room. As a brave soul, Phoebe was the one to go first out there. Minutes seemed like years in there. We sat in utter silence. Then soon, Violet called up Ritzi. And then after that was Shai.

Carmela and I remained in that room. She took my hand and smiled at me.

She told me, "Our group was never missing a piece. But you're like this gift sent to us to make us better. You will never be left out, Ollie. You're part of Divide and Conquer."

I smiled back, "Thank you."

My stomach did somersaults when finally, Violet called me in. I didn't know where the others were. I guessed they didn't get to come back to the dressing room right after.

Clenching my fists and then deeply breathing in and out, I went out into the stage. Lights flashed and screams could be heard as if this wasn't my first performance for L.A. Without letting the commotion affect me, I walked up to the microphone stand.

I briefly scanned the crowd. And I was a little taken aback when I saw my father there, sporting a sort of shocked expression. I should've expected him to be here, because there were also potential artists from Reynold Records.

Well, take this, father.

Everything just overwhelmed me when the music started but I sung. I just continued singing and singing, losing myself in the moment but at the same time, having control over my voice.

I sung Beyoncé's Listen like I've never sung it before.

And then it all ended in a daze. When I opened my eyes, people were clapping and some were at their feet. Wow, I must be good then. Head still held high, I walked out of the stage and into the back where Brennan was first to tackle me.

He wrapped his arms around me, "You were amazing. I really don't have words for it."

"Thank you so much." I said softly.

I didn't stick with him long because I had to get ready with the girls. While Carmela would be out there, we'll be getting ready for our last song. All I remembered was Violet rushing us, and the five of us taking places in the dark stage.

I guessed the stage art really outshined the night. We had managed the choreography and how to go around the place – it paid off. We sung Little Mix's Little Me as a group – as Divide and Conquer.

After the song finished, we were stolen away by our family and friends backstage. Brennan grabbed me again and hugged me, tighter than ever. He seemed convinced that we had that record deal in our hands.

And then there was Mom. My mother, who grinned widely upon approaching me.

"Already this far at eighteen," she held my shoulders at arm's length, "I didn't expect this. I thought I'd still be supporting you at college and you'll be growing old and running the shop with fifty cats."

I gave her a look, "Mom, we both know it'll be fifty dogs."

She laughed, "Fifty dogs, yes. You know you really kicked your father's ass tonight."

"Did I?"

She nodded, "Yes. And I can't be any prouder."

Next was Montana, who hugged me longer than the others. She looked like she worried about me more than I worried about myself.

"I was afraid you'd reach here, you know," she told me, "Fame can do things to you, you know."

"I know, but I'll get through. Hollywood is just a magnet for us Reynolds children, isn't it?"

She laughed and hugged me again, "I'll be here for you, Ollie. Always."

"And I'll be here for you, too, Monty."

A few others cornered me backstage. Lawrence and Jess congratulated me together. And I couldn't be more thankful for my two best friends. Even a few of my schoolmates were there, including GC, Brenda, Perry, Zafra and shockingly, even Rita.

Even Maira was there, who cried tears of joy for me.

But I haven't seen Jackson anywhere. At least he'd have the decency to come. What a bummer.

I decided to stray from the girls and the others for a bit, to have time for myself. I couldn't believe I did that. This all felt incredible. I looked back at the girls, bombarded by fans. I'd face them later on.

I walked around the backstage aimlessly.

But then I stopped.

Damn it, so he was here. There. And he noticed me. We both stopped at eye contact. And I thought he'd be running away again, but he was walking up towards me.

I made no move to back away.

"I didn't think you'd be here tonight," I told him, fiddling with my fingers.

"I had to," he said. And he didn't even look terrified. "Plus, Mom dragged me to the car by my ear."

I cracked a smile.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, you were stunning out there. You were wonderful. You didn't tell me you sing."

"But I did, remember?" I pressed my lips together.

"Yeah, but not that. You never said you sing so beautifully. How come you never did a demo for me?"

"Well . . ." I said, "I didn't really think I'd get here. Singing before – it was just a pastime for me. Never thought I'd take it seriously. This is like my wildest dreams."

"I'm sure you and your group will make history."

He stepped forwards and I thought for one second he was going to hug me. Or even kiss me. Instead, he went past me and walked away. Seriously, man. Way to get my hopes up.

In my head, I was already trapping him in a hug. Hugging him like it was the last time we'll make physical contact.

Shaking my head, I made a move to get back to the girls. I was walking down a deserted hallway when I heard my name being called. Looking back, my jaw almost dropped to the floor.

Mitch was running towards me. I kept my face rigid and emotionless.

She looked like a mess, honestly, with her hair in different directions and her eyes red and puffy. She picked at her fingernails as she stopped in front of me. Mitch forced out a smile, "Ollie."

"Is there something that you want?"

In a flash, her face turned frantic. Panicky. Like it was a matter of life and death. "You have to come with me," she said urgently, "Please, it's important. I know it will ruin your night but this is serious."

She tried to grab for my hand but I pulled away. "Don't waste my time," I said blankly.

"You have to listen to me!" she cried out.

"If it's an apology I don't want to hear it – "

"It's your sister!" Mitch yelled. That made me tense all over. No, don't believe her. She's lying. Ollie, you know better than this.

"What happened to Mony?" I asked slowly, quietly.

"I –I saw her getting dragged into a car . . ." she stumbled through her words, "I think she was kidnapped, Ollie. She looked hurt – bruised and battered. We have to get her . . . "

My blood ran cold. I didn't know where Mony was exactly. I haven't seen her in days. I haven't seen her for a week. No contact so far, but Montana was assuring me that she was fine with Glenda. My heart almost stopped.

"How do I know you're not lying?"

Mitch practically shoved her phone at my face – a video. And indeed, there was Mony, dragged my men into a van. No . . . no. I told myself that this was all just a big lie.

I fished out my own phone. "Then why don't we call the police –"

"No!" she said, "You and I both know getting the police involved will make things worse. I think I know where they took her – "

"We're not doing that. At least we should tell someone –"

"No, we're not!" she screamed so loudly, it echoed off the walls. She pulled at my hand roughly, her fingernails digging into my skin. "You have to come with me!"

"I'm not coming with y –" I cut myself off with a sharp yelp. Something was on my wrist. I heard a click. Handcuffs. She had to trap me in handcuffs.

Mitch waved the key in front of my face, "You best keep your mouth shut. I have direct contact to the kidnapper and he won't hesitate to hurt her if you don't come with me."

Before I could say anything else, she dragged me through the hall and into the exit. No one was around. I took deep breaths. I wasn't sure if she was telling the truth, but Mony was in danger.

"Of all the things, Mitchell," I told her lowly, "This has to be the most outrageous. I feel sorry for you actually." She didn't answer. She pulled out a sharp knife and held it against me.

How original.

The night breeze nipped at my skin once we were out. Mitch pushed me into a car. A car that wasn't hers. Handcuffing me to the front seat, she ripped my phone out of my grasp and threw it at the dashboard.

And she wasn't even batting an eyelash at what she just did.

She started the car. We drove out into the dark night. The streets were almost empty. If I really tried anything, she'd probably stab me.

But she didn't know I'd already contacted the police. She didn't expect I was clever enough to think of that. So I lied there on the backseat, taking labored breaths and clinging to that one string of hope.

Thank you, Sherlock, for teaching me how to text behind my back.

♫ ♫ ♫