"Now that we're all here, we'll start taking questions," Ethan Scott, Off-Kilter's guitar player and sometime vocalist, announced at lunch later that day.

It was a bright, sunny day but cool enough in the shade so all seven of us sat at—or rather, squeezed into—one table outside the cafeteria.

Content to just absorb information and let the others talk, I pricked up my ears and went on eating my turkey sandwich. Ethan turned to each person at our table, lingering in Erin's direction to give her a pointed look.

"Off the record, of course."

"Crap," Erin muttered. She reached under the table and produced a voice recorder that she'd been hiding, switched it off, and whined. "Come on, one little puff piece for the school paper. I'll make you guys look soo good."

"Nice try." Ethan laughed, and so did everyone else at the table. No one would have believed Erin, even if she had said that without the sarcastic tone and eye-rolling. She wasn't the gushy puff piece type; she was always after the bigger story.

"Ugh. Just let her write the damn article," Alex butted in. "No one reads the school paper anyway. Like, what is the big deal?"

"Thanks a lot, Alex," Erin said, knitting her brows at said girl, who nodded and accepted her thanks graciously.

Ethan responded with a tight-lipped smile. "The big deal is that until a record deal is signed and safe in our hands, we need to be careful and make sure every move we make is approved by management."

No one was quite certain how to respond to that. Even though Ethan's tone was light-hearted, we all knew what a huge break like this meant to someone like him.

Ethan Scott had a reputation for being a bad boy. He didn't really mind it. According to him, it kept people who would normally mess with someone like him off his back, not to mention, drove a lot of girls wild.

He was kidding when he said that second part, but not completely wrong, from what I'd seen. Although, personally, I think even a choirboy with his looks wouldn't do so badly in that department, either.

Anyway, Ethan lived on the wrong side of the tracks and had an attendance problem—pretty lame reasons to label someone, in my opinion. He lived there with his mom, who worked two jobs, an ailing grandmother, and an older brother with special needs, for one thing, and he occasionally skipped classes to work and help make ends meet, for another.

I guess that was why I didn't find it at all weird, not seeing him all summer—unlike Seth. I just assumed he got a job somewhere, and as it turned out, I was right.

Those weren't the only reasons for the label, unfortunately. He also had a father who died while serving a prison sentence. But who didn't have a family member they wished they weren't related to?

That didn't seem to be the case with Ethan's dad, though. There had been no funeral or memorial service when Ethan's dad died and I had no memory of meeting him before then. All I really knew about him was that he played a mean guitar, had taught Ethan to play when he was still around.

He was also the original owner of the shiny candy apple red guitar with the dragon-scale design strap that was Ethan's prized possession. Ethan would never part with it, even when he really needed the money. Why would he cherish something that reminded him of someone awful?

"Exactly, Erin," I heard Alex say in an admonishing tone. "You can't just harass them when they're eating like this. Have some respect for their privacy. God."

Seth who all this time, had been silently eating some sort of sandwich wrap from across the table, looked up. He turned to Alex with a look of mock confusion. "Weren't you the one who sent that video of the concert to everyone we know?"

"Before we could tell them ourselves?" Ethan added, smirking.

"You snooze, you lose."

The two boys, dumbfounded, exchanged looks. Tristan, their drummer, joined in. "How did you even hear about it?"

"Hear about it?" Alex, looking smug, tossed her head. "I was there."

"I saw that video." Tristan stared at her, his expression awed. "The quality's really good. You can really see everything going on onstage."

"Thanks."

"No way you shot it," Tristan muttered, which caused Alex to frown.

"I never said I shot it," Alex protested, raising her voice so she could be heard over the guys' laughter. "One of the guys I was with did, but I supervised."

"You should have said something sooner. We could have set something up—maybe got you backstage or even to the after-party..." Tristan trailed off so we could fill in the details for ourselves. And then he shrugged, like this was no big deal.

Like hell, it wasn't. I re-wrapped my half-eaten sandwich, stood abruptly, and slammed both my open palms on the table.

"Maybe you jackasses should have said something sooner!" I exploded, yelling at the top of my lungs, and then winced. My eyes watered and I started shaking both hands vigorously to get rid of the sting of the sudden pain that shot up my arm all of a sudden. "Son of a—oww!"

Everything went quiet and I felt a hundred pairs of eyes from the nearby tables on me. I stopped yelling and took a deep breath. I braced myself once more on the table, using just the heels of my hands this time, so as not to hurt them further and leaned forward to look Tristan in the eye. My voice was menacingly low when I spoke again.

"Are you telling me you could have gotten us at that concert and then backstage to meet Jordan-freaking-Castle and maybe partied with her and yet, couldn't be bothered to do it? 'Cause if you are, so help me, I will flip this goddamn table!" I had said a mouthful and needed to catch my breath, so I glared at Tristan in silence, awaiting his response.

"It's not like that, Adrian..."

I turned away sharply from Tristan and focused my death stare at the one who had spoken.

"So what is it like, Seth?" I hissed, narrowing my eyes at Seth, who looked mildly annoyed, when he should be looking like he feared for his life. This was a serious matter. "Is it like, a punishment? Is it like, a way to get back at me for not—"

I froze, unable to finish my sentence. My eyes were wide as saucers and so were Seth's as we stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

"You weren't even there, Adrian." Alex piped in. I turned to her, glad for the opportunity to break eye contact with Seth. "Why are you so worked up?"

"You all know what Jordan Castle means to me," I muttered. It sounded lame to my own ears, too.

"Okay, bad joke," Ethan said, in a tone meant to lighten the mood. He reached across the table and whacked Tristan on the back of his head—hard enough to make the latter huff and glare. "See what you did?"

"Adrian was gonna start yelling anytime." Tristan rolled his eyes and shrugged. "At least she lasted until lunch. I mean, that's gotta be a personal best for you, right?"

Tristan smirked at me when he said the last part, making my jaw drop. I felt the rage that must have been inside me all this time, slowly simmering underneath the surface, come to a boil once more. I wasn't even sure whom I was mad at or what I was mad about anymore. It seemed like every little thing could set me off.

I turned to Tristan, about to yell at him when I felt a tight grip on my arm, tugging downward.

"Sit down, Adrian, Jesus!" Alex scolded. "I mean, if anyone's gonna be flipping tables, it should be me. I was so close."

I saw her point and did as she said. "Fine," I bit out, slumping down. "I'm over it.

As soon as I was seated, Alex stood up while Erin leaned in to whisper in my ear. "You had more of those coffee beans, didn't you?" Her tone was accusatory. "How many?"

I didn't; I only had the one they all saw me eat earlier but I wasn't going to bring that moment up ever again for as long as I lived. I pretended not to hear her and instead, unwrapped my sandwich once more and took another bite.

"But you know what? I'm not gonna do that," I heard Alex say to the guys. She paused to flash the entire schoolyard her megawatt smile—a clear sign that she wanted something. "Instead, I am going to let you guys make it up to us."

"She wants to go to the Grammys." Beth translated for them. All three boys blinked, and then side-eyed Alex, who nodded slyly.

Ethan turned to Alex, one brow lifted. "Skipping ahead a few chapters, are we?"

"Maybe she can go as part of your new bestie Jordan's entourage," Beth went on. I opened my mouth, about to say something, when I felt an elbow jab into my side. I jumped away in surprise, but held my tongue.

"Will you guys stop?" Seth looked more than a little annoyed now. "I don't know what you heard but the truth really isn't all that interesting. We went on one audition and that's it."

I was skeptical. "They let just anyone off the street audition for Jordan Castle's concert?"

Seth looked taken aback, but only for a moment. His face darkened and then he he spoke again, more quietly. "My dad knew some people. He got us the audition. But we didn't even know what it was for until the last possible minute."

"And even when we did, we weren't allowed to tell anyone. They made us all sign non-disclosure forms and everything," Ethan added. Half a second later, his eyes widened. "Shit."

Seth gave Ethan a disapproving look and threw up his hands. Anyone who watched as much trashy TV as I did would know what those agreements entailed. Even the smallest of slip-ups could end up costing someone millions. They weren't overreacting.

It certainly would explain the months of radio silence from Seth, as well. People were sometimes forced to go into hiding and stop all communication even with their loved ones. Never mind the people they weren't related to and therefore didn't owe any kind of explanation to.

"Why all the secrecy?" Beth asked, in a casual tone, between forkfuls of her pre-packaged salad.

"So Jordan's bastard cheating ex-boyfriend can't cause trouble until it's too late." Tristan's remark earned him glares and outraged cries of dude from both fellow Off-Kilter members. He flashed a sheepish grin and backtracked. "Allegedly."

I gave Tristan a puzzled stare. The third Off-Kilter member was the nerdy sort, and learned to play the drums on an arcade game. Before last summer, he always just minded his own business, always seemed to be in a world of his own, like most nerds who spent most of their time indoors, reading comic books and such. He never used to be the gossipy type.

But now, he had just basically confirmed the hottest rumor in entertainment news these days. It was a complete one-eighty.

Beth's eyes met mine briefly. She gave a small knowing smile and my eyebrows shot up. She got more information out of these boys than Erin, Alex and I put together. Sometimes, I wondered if she had supernatural powers; it would explain a lot, actually.

"That's ridiculous," I scoffed and shook my head. I never believed that rumor. It didn't make sense. "Who does one even cheat on Jordan Castle with?"

"Exactly!" Tristan beamed and held up his hand in my direction for a high-five. I looked at it, not moving, until he got the message and lowered his hand. He cleared his throat before speaking again, more reserved this time. "Exactly."

"That's the whole story, okay? We were just a last-minute replacement for some guy. So can we drop this?" Seth asked us girls, sounding super-serious. Everyone else more or less agreed to this, while I continued to sulk into my sandwich. He tried again. "We couldn't tell anyone if we wanted."

"I said I'm over it, right?" I said, scoffing, but meaning it this time. I wasn't completely unreasonable.

"Good," Seth said, eyes lit up like he understood that he was being absolved—of everything, not just the concert. "Trust me, Adrian, you didn't miss anything. It was all a blur; Jordan Castle barely even looked at us the whole time."

I didn't really believe this. It was just a misguided attempt at making me feel better, but it was kind of sweet of him. Especially since he was doing it at the risk of legal action. This must be why I never could stay mad at the guy for very long.

"Speak for yourself, dude." This was Tristan. "Jordan and I—we had a moment."

I heard a choking noise from my side of the table. I turned in time to see Erin wiping Peach Tea Snapple from her face with the back of her hand.

"Come again?" She managed to gasp.

"We had a moment," Tristan repeated, keeping a perfectly straight face.

I couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled past my lips. The eagerness to talk about Jordan Castle, his outrage at Conner Grey's so-called indiscretion, they all suddenly made sense: Tristan Lazaro had a little crush.

I would have realized this sooner but I guess the fact that Jordan Castle wasn't his usual type threw me off. Tristan was normally only interested in girls who were either computer-generated or hand-drawn and found on a comic book page.

Erin's expression was priceless. She was the last to join our group and had not yet given up on trying to figure all of us out. She turned to Seth, then Ethan. "Did that really happen? Is he serious?"

Seth was chuckling the whole time he answered. "He said it did," was his response to the first question, said while shrugging. "And when is Tristan not serious?"

"Jordan Castle has dated Abercrombie and Fitch models and hot NHL players, okay? What would she see in a high school dude with a list of food allergies as long as my arm?" Alex wondered aloud, and then seeing Tristan's indignant expression, sighed. "No offense."

"You had to be there," Tristan insisted.

"Um, I kinda was! Don't forget: you guys still some making up to do."

"I already told you, Alex—no can do on the Grammys." Ethan spoke slowly, as if to a three-year-old.

"Any red carpet event, then. Or A-List after-party. Use your imagination."

Neither of them said anything, immediately after that. They just seemed to engage in a spur-of-the-moment staring contest, and then, Ethan smirked and turned to the boys, gesturing at Alex with a tilt of his head.

"Dudes, check it out: my first gold-digger."

"Hey!" I called out to Ethan, turning to him sharply. "Don't call her that."

"Shut up. I'm into it," Alex hissed. She wasn't even looking at me, and instead, continued to smile up at Ethan, who grinned at me.

"See, Adrian? She's into it and so am I. Don't worry, I'll take good care of Alex."

I rolled my eyes and made a retching noise but left them alone.

Pair of weirdoes.

I knew Ethan was kidding, but I couldn't help reacting the way I did. Alex's friendliness toward boys sometimes gave others the wrong idea and it always made me uncomfortable and defensive on her behalf.

I knew I shouldn't let it bother me; Alex could handle herself and never seemed to care what others thought. That's what was really gonna get her to the Grammys someday because I certainly wasn't going to be of any help to her in achieving that goal. Not if sucking up to people and making nice when I wasn't feeling it was the way to do it.

I wasn't beating myself up over it, though. If Tristan were to be believed, Jordan Castle couldn't do it with Conner Grey at her concert, either, which was a lucky break for the guys, especially Ethan, who was long overdue for one.

Somehow, sharing that quality with Jordan made it an admirable quality to have. Like maybe it showed integrity or good moral character, which probably was almost as good as a buttload of money.

That was a joke, by the way.

A sudden noise startled me out of my reverie and made me focus on my surroundings. Our large group had broken off into smaller sub-groups:

On my left were Ethan and Alex, talking with their voices considerably lowered. On my right, Beth and Erin, talking as well, but also completely absorbed in something they were watching on Beth's phone. Across from me were Tristan and Seth who were sort of roughhousing and were the ones making noise.

Seth looked up just as I was watching them, caught my eye, and smiled. I wasn't sure why I did it—maybe it was a surprise reflex—but I turned away and pretended to be curious about what was on Beth's phone, too.

As for the people who were the opposite of Jordan and myself, who could pretend to like someone they didn't, who could smile and look at someone with fondness or even love when the feeling wasn't there—they were impressive, too. And if they could make a buttload of money from doing that, then more power to them. They deserved every penny; that shit was hard.

Though probably not as hard as pretending that the feelings that were actually there didn't exist.

***

A/N: I apologize for any issues you might be having in reading this book (formatting, spacing, errors, spam notifs, etc.) I'm making lots of changes and making new mistakes along the way. Let me know what's bothering you and I'll see what I can do.

Anyway, thanks for reading. If you've read this far, why not vote, comment, follow etc.? ILY!