"No one is as lucky as us
We're not at the end but oh we already won
No one is as lucky as us
Is as lucky as us." -Where The Lines Overlap

Chicago.

Bright lights showered the stage in luminescent shades of purple, reds, and greens. I sat behind the large kit, just barely seeing over the cymbals with a pair of replacement drumsticks in my hands.

Denver.

Gabriel shot the crowd a charismatic grin, sending them into frenzied and Drake mindlessly strummed a few chords to add to the mood.

Albequerque.

Zac and Xander exchanged grins, hands positioned on their instruments. My grip on my sticks tightened and I began a soft rhythm to add to Drake's background noise.

New York City.

"We're Chasing Avenues," Gabriel said smoothly into the mike. "Let's get this party started."

Philadelphia.

All at once, the stage exploded in a massive wave of sound coming from the amps, bring our music, our talents out to the crowd.

Portland.

God knows the world doesn't need another band, but what a waste it would've been.

Nashville.

I couldn't stop the grin as my hands expertly wove their way into the pattern of performance, feeling the sweat drip from the exertion, but I had too much energy to care.

New Orleans.

Drake did a backflip, making the girls scream like crazy. Everyone was so loud, matching our own excitement. Cameras broadcasted our every move to thousands of people around the nation.

Minneapolis.

I barked out a laugh, high off the music and adrenaline.

Las Vegas.

It was a dream come true.

San Francisco.

The city was alive with bright lights, showering everyone underneath the city's gleam in a vibrant shade of gold. Skyscrapers shot up into the sky, illuminating shadows over the streets. Billboards with celebrities covered every few yards, and palm trees lined the highway we were currently driving on.

Taxis and cars of all shades veered past our tour bus, headed off to wherever their destinations lay ahead. I watched them pass, placing my head on the glass and staring out the window in silent awe. Evening had just blanketed over the Californian city, the darkness a comfort from the long day.

Eleven different cities in under a month a half; yet I, along with the guys, still felt this inexhaustible energy during the touring session of round three. We traveled from coast to coast, gathering fans and votes, expressing ourselves through the music, getting lost in this new sense of independence that the competition graced us with. I watched as the amount of viewers on the television broadcast skyrocketed, along with the amount of curious patrons who decided to check out the bands in person.

With each stop, my wanderlust grew, and I felt the need to spread out my arms in hopes of flying away on my dreams. They were finally coming true; they were finally happening. I grew closer to everyone around me, unlocking a part of me that I never knew existed. I laughed more, I smiled more.

Chasing Avenues became more than my friends, they were my family and my home. We grew closer than I imagined; I learned things about them that I didn't know. Like, how Drake, despite his rich background, volunteered his free time to helping out in soup kitchens for the less fortunate. He joined the band because he wanted to be different, to change his destiny about living up to the task of being heir to his mother's law firm.

Or, how Zac could only journey back to the Philippines to meet his relatives every two years because of the expenses. He joined Chasing Avenues as an escape from bullying in middle school because he couldn't speak fluent English. Drake and Gabriel were the only people who didn't care and taught him his second language.

Gabriel was ever the mystery; after his admittance about the death of his mother, we had this unspoken rule of trust. I couldn't find out much about him directly, though to say I was shocked when Drake told me he had a past with Carter was an understatement. I didn't push the issue about it, but I soon began to notice the subtle shifts in mood when the topic of Within These Cages came up, or the tension when we pass by Carter and her band during stage set-ups. Gabriel told us that he formed that band as a way to cope. Music was his escape, like mine was, and he wanted to make the best of it.

Xander was a whole other story. He, like Gabriel, was very secretive about his past. Though he loved talking about his family and his background - like the days when he used to be an Abercrombie wearing jock - I never once heard about his sister, whose image of her bedroom door still wracked my curiosity.

More so, I was just like the two of them in a way. I finally confided about how my mother passed away, and how guilt-ridden I felt -as if her suicide was my fault entirely. It seemed to bring them all a little bit of ease, finally uncovering a part of me that they had been trying to figure out since the first meeting.

But I couldn't find myself to telling them about Marco. Not yet.

"Lacey?" Xander's voice came from behind me. I turned around to face him, a little tired from the latest tour stop in San Francisco which had ended a little more than two hours ago. We were on our way to the last stop of the round: Los Angeles.

He was equally as tired, though he still seemed to have some energy left over. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked, pointing to the empty seat beside me. I nodded, setting my head back upon the glass.

"California is so pretty." he mused, crossing his arms on the windowsill and leaning his head on them.

"Definitely." I agreed, casting him a look. "Why aren't you asleep yet? It's past two in the morning."

"Same as you," Xander yawned, defeating the purpose of my accusation. "I can't sleep."

Shaking my head at his contradictions, I watched the tour bus take a turn off the highway, heading towards another street. It was following the other four buses ahead of us, while five others trailed behind. During the round, ten bands were eliminated and the remaining were ordered according to their rank. We were in fifth.

"One last stop and we're in round four," I noted with a half-smile. "Who would've thought?"

"That's the round where we all get pinned against each other right? Like a duel?"

"This isn't Dungeons and Dragons, you moron." I scoffed.

Xander stuck his tongue out at me, reclining back into his position at the window. "I wonder who we'll be up against first."

I thought about that too - quite a lot actually. Staring at the buses in front of us, I saw Within These Cages' tour bus in the third slot, the same as their ranking in the competition. Eventually we'd have to go against them, wouldn't we? If we still made it in the competition.

I followed their bus to the other two in front of them: one was some band called Las Mayonnaise - who the fuck would name a band that, I don't know - and leading the way to Los Angeles was none other than Tilted Reality.

During the span of the competition, our bands had gotten even closer. Close enough that it attracted the press's attention, and soon our band was high in publicity. A lot of our fanbase though, came with Mike's help. As our manager, he was pretty good at it. Whenever I got the chance, I'd meet with him in private and discuss Tom's plans - still unknown at this point - and luckily, my band nor the paparazzi ever seemed to notice.

I thought of the paparazzi again, trailing behind sets and sneaking pictures. Their favorites were snapshots of me and Blake, as much as it annoyed both of us. He and I liked to escape together a lot. Once the sets was over, we'd run from our bands and the contest, and just explore the cities. Blake had been to all of them, so he liked to take me on tours to all his favorite places. I could imagine the grin on his face as he did. The dimple on his left cheek would appear and his green eyes would glow brighter the happier he got. I smiled at the thought.

In my pocket, my phone vibrated. As if sensing I was thinking about him, I tapped on my messages to find a new text from Blake. Instantly a smile blossomed on my lips though I fought to keep it cool. I instinctively glanced over at Xander, knowing how he didn't really like the drummer for some reason, but he was already fast asleep, soft snores getting lost in the noise of the bus's engine.

Grabbing a blanket from the floor, I draped it over my best friend gently before returning back to my phone.

Still awake? it read. I snorted; Blake knew I had difficulty sleeping, and it had only been two weeks ago when I discovered he did too. Ever since then, we had been texting each night until the other had fallen asleep. It was always a contest to see who would fall asleep first.

Maybe, maybe not. I tapped out my reply quickly.

His reply came just as swiftly: Whatever. ;) You excited for Los Angeles?

More like nervous.

You'll be fantastic. You always are. I blushed, scowling when I realized I did.

Stop flirting with me. I protested.

Okay.

Okay?

Okay.

Stop quoting John Green too. Okay?

Okay. That earned a short round of laughter from myself, grinning at his messages.

You should sleep soon. We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.

Nice try. You just want me to fall asleep first.

That too.

Tough luck.

We can sleep together?

????

Not like that! Naughty girl. ;) I meant, we can fall asleep at the same time.

How?

I'll sing you a song.

Before I could send him a text asking what the hell he was talking about, my cell began ringing and I quickly hit the answer button so the other members of my band wouldn't wake up.

"Harnage-"

"Hey Sturm." he replied too cheerfully for someone awake at two in the morning. Blake's voice was a hushed whisper like mine was. "Ready for that song?"

"I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Nope." he sang, his voice sounding like laughter. "Just lie down and let me work my magic."

Rolling my eyes, I did as he said, reclining onto my back as my head fell onto Xander's lap. The guitarist twitched a little, then contined snoring. "Ready." I said quietly.

The line was dead for a few minutes, the only sound was static reverberating through the call. I frowned, but when my patience was wearing thin, Blake's presence returned. There was a soft thump in the background and he let out a quiet curse.

"You okay?" I asked in amusement.

"Yeah," he replied; I heard the rustle of him moving. "Sorry for the wait, I had to sneak Zeke's acoustic out of his bunk."

"Since when do you play guitar?"

"I don't actually play," Blake admitted a little sheepishly. There was a few shaky strums of the guitar; my perfect pitch recognized them as G major chords. "Zeke tried teaching me once, but I still suck. I only know a few open chords, nothing too fancy. I just didn't want the song to sound too dry."

"Oh, right, this infamous song that I still haven't heard."

"Shh," he laughed, strumming a C chord lightly. "Just close your eyes." I did as he said, listening to the static and his breathing.

"One, two, three, four," he counted off in a whisper, and soon the sound of the acoustic guitar was just a little bit louder and he began to sing. "She's like cold coffee in the morning. I'm drunk off last night's whisky and coke. She'll make me shiver without warning, and make me laugh as if I'm in on the joke."

His voice was angelic and soft, yet another thing that I hadn't expected from him. It held a lilting tone to it, sounding a tad British although he wasn't, and it made goosebumps rise on my arms. I relaxed into myself, as his voice was the only thing I heard. "And you can stay with me forever. Or you could stay with me for now.

Tell me if I'm wrong. Tell me if I'm right. Tell me if you need a loving hand to help you fall asleep tonight. Tell me if I know. Tell me if I do. Tell me how to fall in love the way you want me to."

I soon began feeling drowsy; the darkness of the bus mixed with his soft voice finally began to work its magic and I forced myself to stay awake only to continue listening to Blake's serenade.

"I'll wake with coffee in the morning, but she prefers two lumps of sugar and tea. Outside the day is up and calling but I don't have to be so, please go back to sleep.

Stay with me forever. Or you could stay with me for now?" His voice dropping at the end of the phrase, he made it rise as the refrain start again.

"'Cause I love the way you wake me up. For goodness sake will my love not be enough?" Blake's voice rose with intensity as his chords followed, before dropping to a muted silence. I waited with bated breath, and the song began again.

"Tell me if I'm wrong. Tell me if I'm right. Tell me if you need a loving hand to help you fall asleep tonight. Tell me if I know. Tell me if I do. Tell me how to fall in love the way you want me to.

Tell me if I'm wrong. Tell me if I'm right. Tell me if you need a loving hand to help you fall asleep tonight."

As the last chord resonated both in his bus and my phone, the only sound in the silence was the sound of our breathing. I didn't dare break it, too content to speak. My eyes were having difficulty staying open, and they fluttered as I fought to stay awake.

"Sturm-" Blake started but was interrupted by a groggy voice in the distance: Zeke.

"Blake, what the hell are you doing still up? It's like two- hey, wait. Is that my fucking guitar?"

I heard Blake try to stammer out an explanation, but I was already slipping away into unconsciousness. Slowly, the sounds of Blake and Zeke's bickering faded away, replaced by the silence of my mind. My eyes soon closed and I fell into one of the best nights of sleep I've ever had.

--

"Give it up for Chasing Avenues!" Todd Valentine, the charismatic announcer who had been showing off his energetic smiles since day one, shouted into the microphone. Decked out in a silver suit that shimmered underneath the colored stage lights and the sun, sweat was visible on his brow. If Todd was uncomfortable, he didn't show it.

As the red-haired individual swept off the stage with a gesturing wave of the arm, Gabriel took the lead and bounded up the few stairs leading to the makeshift stage. Drake and Xander followed suit, following the order we agreed on, and Zac scrambled after them moments after.

Yet again, I felt a sickening sensation in my gut. It came before every event, but this one seemed to strike the hardest. Sure, they told us that no one would be eliminated during this final tour stop, it never stopped the butterflies from fluttering in my gut. Unconsciously, I bent down to retrieve Rev, like I always did, but my hand shriveled as soon as it hit empty space in my combat boot. I swallowed a dry lump, slowly straightening myself and reassuring my distressed brain that a replacement pair of drum sticks would already be waiting patiently at the kit. The techies informed me already.

But it wasn't the same as Rev. It never was.

Shaking my head, I forced a small smile onto my lips - half a smirk, half a crooked grin - and made my way up the stairs. I was always the last one on stage; Gabriel said that it wasn't a sexist move that the lady would join last, but more so, he accepted the fact that people would be interested in me since I was the only girl in the band. You're a role model, he said. Make an impact like one.

And as soon as I took a step, my presence leaving the ground and exposing me to the crowd - the largest one yet - the crowd screamed. I felt a jolt, hiding my head sheepishly. Before I glanced away, I caught a glimpse of a little girl in the crowd, holding a pair of drum sticks and a sign which read: Lacey Carson made me want to play the drums. Laughing slightly, I felt a pang of pride at the sight and I gave the girl the largest smile I could manage.

I took my place behind the drum kit, finding a pair of sticks sitting nicely onto the snare. I made a face at it, picking it up and testing the damage. It was heavier than Rev, but sturdier. It felt unbalanced in my palms but it would have to do. Gripping them tightly, I closed my eyes and willed the thoughts of Marco breaking my sticks away, trying to concentrate on Gabriel's voice as he greeted the crowd.

"We're Chasing Avenues, and we're going to start you off with a classic by The Strokes. Here's Reptilia." he smiled, making a few of the girls towards the front swoon. I smirked, shaking my head. Around us were cameras, livestreaming our performance to cable televisions all across the country. It made me nervous at first, but now I was a little bit more comfortable. Just a little bit.

With a click of the sticks, I counted us in and we were off like a rocket.

Gabriel pressed his lips to the microphone as the guitar riff faded out to a gentle strum: his cue to enter. His voice was rough but soft, caressing the words as they left his lips like a whisper.

"He seemed impressed by the way you came in. 'Tell us a story,
I know you're not boring.' I was afraid that you would not insist. 'You sound so sleepy, just take this, now leave me.'..." The song was perfect; and by the time the ending came, the crowd was buzzing with energy and jumping around.

Instead of ending the song with a crash, I settled for an intermission fill as Drake played soft chords as Gabriel spoke to the crowd once more. Their energy blending into ours, I was a bundle of excitement. The sound of cheers echoed into the broad daylight, as people jumped up and down, screaming our band's name. It felt so surreal.

It felt right.

--

"Good job, guys. You were great." Todd gave us a genuine smile - that's what I admired about him; everything about the man screamed fake but he was genuinely in love with the music and the competition. He gave Zac a pat on the back as the bassist was the last to exit the stage, and we murmured our thanks.

"Let's give another round of applause for Chasing Avenues!" Todd's voice grew a few decibels as he pressed his lips to the mike, darting up the stairs and back into his place on the stage.

Tech workers handed us some towels and water bottles, much like they were trained and paid to do after each band finished their gig. I took my bottle graciously, downing it in a few gulps, the liquid tasting like ice and bliss as it sunk down my throat.

"Whoa, slow down there, tiger." Xander's amused chortle had me sending him a glare as I threw the bottle at his face. It hit him square in the forehead and he grimaced, pointing an accusing finger at me. "Now you're littering." Scoffing, he picked up the bottle and tossed it in a nearby garbage can, giving me a pointed look.

"Goody two shoes." I retorted.

"Deliquent." he scrunched up his nose, ruffling my hair. I shooed him away, darting around his back and standing by Zac instead - the bassist just gave us an amused look.

"Alright," Gabriel started, once we each hydrated and met up by an oak tree behind the stage. It was quiet - despite the thumping of the bass and the performance of the next band on stage - and the perfect place for us to regain our energy and analyze the performance. "I'm thinking we could use a practice for round four after this round is over. I talked about it with Mike and he said he'll try to reserve the stage for practice before it gets demolished for the next round. Zac, can you help Lacey tune up the instruments again, and - dammit, Blake, go away."

A pair of arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me close until I felt a chin rest on my right shoulder. Scowling as a light blush colored my cheeks, I looked off to the side only to see Blake's smiling face beside me. I jumped at our close proximity, and the way he made me feel when I realized his hands were on me, and oh, God. With a nervous laugh, I pushed him away, making him crack an amused smirk.

"Stop stealing our drummer," Drake protested, giving his friend a dirty look, "She's ours."

"Can't you share?" Blake quirked an eyebrow.

"We would if you haven't already been stealing her away after every show." Zac pointed out, taking out a pack of lemonade mix and pouring it into his remaining amount of water. Shaking the bottle, he glanced at me accusingly too. "And if Lacey wasn't so smitten with him that she agreed to run off."

"I'm not smitten!" I protested, crossing my arms. "And stop talking about me like I'm your property or something."

"And the feminist side comes out." Drake muttered teasingly. Grabbing Xander's empty bottle, I chucked it as hard as I could at the guitarist's face, smirking when it collided against Drake's jaw and making him cry out.

"Stop littering!" Xander demanded. He turned to me, his light expression turning serious. "Come on, Carson. You're always with him."

I rolled my eyes, punching him in the arm. "I practically spend every day with you chumps in the bus, during practices, and on stage."

Xander looked like he was going to protest some more, shooting another irritated glance at Blake, but the drummer quickly stepped in, feigning innocence. "I promise I'll bring her back before curfew, Mr. Carson." he laughed, making Xander grunt and look away.

"Look, I know you mean well but - " Gabriel started but Blake was already grabbing my head and whispering, "run" into my ears. His breath tickled and I suppressed a shiver. Shooting Gabriel an apologizing look, I tugged on Blake's hand and took off in the opposite direction, dragging Tilted's drummer with me.

"Lacey!" Gabriel's indignant shout in the distace had me laughing, feeling the adrenaline kick in. Blake's laugh rumbled beside me, the only other sound besides the crunching of dried grass underneath our feet. I panted from the loss of stamina, and after a few minutes of running, Blake and I pulled to a stop beside a ragged looking oak tree.

We were perched above a small hill that overlooked the competition from afar. It gave us a small view of the outskirts of San Francisco, where the bridges lay and the rivers lapped. City buildings gleamed, the sun reflecting off their shining glass exteriors.

With an exhale, I leaned against the tree, sliding down on my back until I was sitting on the soft grass. Beside me, I felt Blake do the same. I didn't mean to, but I found my head drifting to his shoulder where I lay it and closed my eyes in an attempt to slow down it heart from both the escape and Blake's presence beside me.

His hand twitched; my eyes snapped open when I realized with a jolt that I was still holding it. Fighting a blush, I began to pull away but he stopped me.

"Don't," Blake said, his eyes still closed. "this feels nice." A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his head, his unruly brown hair more ruffled than usual from the wind's touch. I relaxed back into his touch, and he intertwined his fingers through mine. I swallowed dryly.

"Did Zeke give you hell last night?" I asked, curious because I had been too drowsy to hear out the argument.

Blake chuckled, the rumble of his baritone laugh making his toned chest heave. "I have a new bruise at the back of my head."

"Ouch."

"I could have had a bruise somewhere else, but he was too tired to be up to par." I rolled my eyes, leaning my head back against the wood.

"Thanks for that," I said. "The song, I mean."

"I didn't make your ears bleed, right?"

"No, it was great."

"You know that means I won, right?"

"Whatever."

"Don't I get a prize?"

"Whatever."

"Can I choose?"

"Whatev-" He pressed a finger to my lips, quirking an eyebrow to keep me from repeating myself like a mindless android. I scowled and pushed his hand aside, rubbing my hand fiercely across my lips. "Okay, okay, what do you want?"

"A kiss."

I wasn't expecting that.

Peeling myself away from him, I managed to scooch a few inches away with wide eyes. Just the word had me thrown back to the night at his apartment; I remember the feel of his lips against mine, the pressure of his arms holding me flush against his body-

"You're not serious, right?" I asked incredulously.

"As serious as a heart attack." he promised, giving an amused look in my direction. He inched towards me, and I scooched back another inch. "Come on, Sturm, I won fair and square."

"Yeah, but don't you want something else? Like ice cream or, or a chocolate bar?" I sputtered, thinking of other prizes that a teenage prodigy drummer like him would enjoy.

"Nope," Blake replied, popping the 'p.' "I want a kiss."

I didn't know why I was hesitating; just the prospect of kissing him was enough to send my brain and heart into overdrive. It was always concerning how easily these feelings were creeping into my life. I remembered being so apathetic, so cold, that I never bothered. But now, I succumbed to them everytime I was nearby this boy.

But I didn't even like him that way. It was just part of Mike's plan. It had been that all along.

I pursed my lips, thinking of the man who had struck a deal with me. We were so close to finding out Tom's secret, but it seemed like Tilted's manager was always a step ahead while we paced two steps behind. I had to get even closer to Blake. Not for my own sake, but for the plan. Right?

By the time I had managed to zone back into reality, I was surprised to find that Blake's face was already inches away from my own - his emerald eyes gleamed mischieviously. I almost pulled back but stopped myself in time, as Blake grew closer and closer. My eyes flitted closed, the ghost touch of his lips so close to mine-

"So come on," he whispered, drawing away. I opened my eyes, blinking at him in bewilderment. Cracking his crooked grin, he hopped to his feet holding out a hand. "Get me some Hershey's chocolate kisses, you loser."

"You fucking bastard."

---

After I had gotten Blake some kisses down at a local grocery store (and escaping a fucking horde of fans - holy shit I have fans) and explored a bit of San Fran, we found ourselves back at the stage area where tech workers were already beginning to demolish the set. Looks like Gabriel won't be sneaking in another practice before next week.

We roamed around the empty pavillion, where the tour buses had parked and were waiting for everyone to return from city exploring so that they could drive to the next location. We held in out laughter as we slunk past Chasing Avenues' bus, making sure that none of my bandmates caught us through the windows. It had been a few hours since I ran off, and Gabriel and Xander were probably hella pissed.

Blake unwrapped the foil of another kiss, popping it in his mouth and moaning at the chocolatey goodness.

"You sound like a porn star." I noted dryly.

"Do you know from experience?" he joked, ducking before I could aim a swing at his head and add another bruise to his skull's collection. We walked along through the buses in comfortable silence, the dusk of the night calming as the sound of cicadas began to chirp in the trees overhead.

I made sure to stay clear of Carter's bus, stealing a few kisses away from Blake as we walked. He grumbled for me to stop, but didn't bother to stop me himself.

"Oh, hey," he said, pointing to a solitary, white RV parked behind Tilted's bus, our current destination. "That's Tom's van. I swear he's such an obssessed father, it's like he always needs us in his sight."

"Huh." I hummed, adding this new information to my catalogue. Together, we hopped aboard Tilted Reality's tour bus, and Blake turned on the lights inside. I almost gaped at the sight.

To say their bus was huge would be an understatement. It seemed to be double the size of our own tour bus, and theirs seemed much more exotic, spacious, and expensive. Sheet music littered the floor, along with a few canned goods. Instruments lay on the couches by the windows, and the microwave door in the kitchen was still wide open, the lights inside flashing.

"Sorry it's a mess." Blake apologized, running a hand through his hair. I shook my head and went to explore. We had only come here because Blake had offered the idea, saying that the rest of his band wanted to go out into the city so we would have the place to our own.

To take up an opportunity to scour around their abode would be hitting the jackpot for Mike.

"I uhm," Blake interjected sheepishly, leading me to the back where like our bus, the bunks were located. "Thought we could play some games. Maybe chess, or Apples to Apples. You wanna pick something? We have a ton of board games, cause we get pretty bored."

I half-smiled, shrugging. "We can start off with chess if you want."

"Cool." he grinned, reaching under a bed and pulling out a game board. Seated on opposite sides of his bunk, we set up the game in silence, putting the pieces down in their starting positions. "Twenty questions while we play?"

"If your puny brain can handle it." I scoffed, making him roll his eyes.

"Okay, let's do this. Favorite color?" Blake asked while simultaneously moving a pawn on the board.

"Blue." I replied, also moving a pawn. Twenty questions, eh? Now I'm no brainiac, but that's twenty answers I could get out of the drummer. "Is Tom's profession just being your manager?"

"Getting right to the meaty stuff," Blake chuckled, albeit a little nervously. He moved another pawn. "Nah, besides being daddy dearest too, he holds a lot of positions in a couple other franchises."

"Really? Like what?"

"That's another question, Sturm. It's my turn." he stuck his tongue out. "Uhm, why did you join the competition?"

I frowned slightly, faltering as I began to move my knight. "I wanted to see the world." I said after a little while; it was partially the truth anyway. "Okay, now what other franchises?"

"Well," Blake said after a moment's hesitation. "He works at Infinite as both an assistance CEO member and head of the advertising board. He also is in charge of international affairs and he's currently working on a new project. Dad won't tell us what it is, but I think he's trying to make his own record label." He moved another pawn, capturing a piece of mine. "What are your parents like?"

I watched him scoop up my piece, biting my lip as I tried to think of an answer to beat around the bush. I pushed another pawn forward. "My mother," I swallowed. "well, she's dead."

"I'm sorry." Blake said, and I knew it was genuine. I smiled sadly, thinking of his own backstory, and waved away his concern.

"It's fine," I rushed out, though it wasn't fine at all. Memories of my mother threatened to engulf me so I quickly moved on to the next part of his question. Marco. "My dad," my voice faltered at the word, "He and I aren't very close. He's out of the house a lot, so I don't see him much. And when I do..."

"When you do?"

I shook my head, feeling my hands begin to shake as I imagined Marco's fists hitting my over and over. Over and over. Over and over-

"Lacey?" Blake's worried voice pulled me out of my stupor; his hands were on my shoulders shaking me roughly. I blinked. He called me by my real name. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice rising up a few octaves.

I shook my head with a small smile, unshed tears pricking the back of my eyes but I didn't cry. "That's another question, Harnage." I laughed dryly, throwing his words back. "It's my turn."

He didn't look like he wanted to drop the subject but I already had, asking another question. "Your dad must be rich then, right? Being the head honcho over all these big organizations?"

"Yeah," Blake looked sullen, deflated. "But the man's insane. He wants even more money. I feel like he cares more about the cash in his pockets rather than us." I pursed my lips, watching as he moved his horse.

"My turn," he said, leaning forward and grabbing my chin gently so he could see my eyes. "Are you okay?"

I sighed heavily, turning my head so that his hand dropped to his lap. "No," I started, forcing a smile onto my lips. "I think I'm bored of chess, let's play something else. You pick."

Blake sighed back, shaking his head at my evasion of his question before rising from his seat to pick another game. I tapped my legs, drumming the rhythm to Do You Wanna by The Kooks, when Blake stopped and glanced up. There was a small grin on his face at the hearing of my drumming, all signs of worry from earlier gone. The sight helped calm my worriedness too.

"What?" I asked.

"There could be games underneath Zeke's bunk," he gestured to the bed opposite his. "Could you look underneath for something interesting?" The grin still wouldn't falter, and I quirked an eyebrow suspiciously.

Standing from the bed and stretching my arms over my head, I yawned and bent down on my knees to look underneath the bunk. I put an arm underneath, patting around until I hit something wooden and thin, the shape all too familiar. Frowning in confusion, I pulled out the object, revealing a pair of drumsticks that I recognize as Blake's.

Wrapped around the sticks was a big red bow, tied elegantly with a note attached to the top. I ripped it off, reading Blake's familiar scrawl:

It's not the same as Rev, but these are my favorite, lucky sticks. I figured you need them more than I do.

-Harnage

"No way," I breathed, holding the sticks up to the fluorescent lights overhead. "Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack." Blake replied with a cheeky smile. I couldn't speak, I was speechless. The amount of sentimental value in the sticks must have been high, yet he wanted to give them to me? I felt the ice around my heart melt a little more, and a smile adorned my lips. He added sheepishly, "I couldn't find the time to give them to you, but I thought tonight would be the perfect opportunity."

Without warning, I whirled around and hugged Blake tightly, feelings his arms wrap around my waist in reply. "Thank you," I whispered sincerely. We stayed in that position for a little while longer; I allowed myself to sink into the embrace, and allowed the small thought to flutter across my mind, Your heart is deceiving you. You don't like him like that. You're just using him.

And with that guilty thought that vanished as quickly as it came, I pulled away.

Clearing my throat, I blushed scarlet and scowled. "Did you pick a game yet?"

"Oh, yeah." Blake seemed just as flustered, his cheeks a little pink. "Here."

I took the colorful box away from him, setting it on the floor in the space that separated us. Reading the big letters on the front, I mused aloud, "Monopoly."

Nah, besides being daddy dearest too, he holds a lot of positions in a couple other franchises.

Dad won't tell us what it is, but I think he's trying to make his own record label.

But the man's insane. He wants even more money. I feel like he cares more about the cash in his pockets rather than us.

Monopoly.

"Tom's trying to form a monopoly." I whispered.

"Hmm, what?" Blake asked, glancing up curiously.

"Monopoly!" I yelled, standing abruptly and grabbing him by the soldiers.

"Monopoly!" he shouted back, completely and utterly confused. I almost laughed.

I figured it out. I know what Tom's plan was. He was trying to form a monopoly. By adopting prodigy children, he created the world's best band, and he was just using them to get to his goal. By rising up as an executive in the branches of Infinite Records, he could easily take advantage of manipulating the staff and bands there. Tilted Reality would rise to the top, whether of their own ability, or his meddling, crushing other bands. Meanwhile, while he dominated the industry, he worked his way up to claim Infinite and other record labels, making his soon to be label the only one left standing.

This competiton was probably rigged so that Tilted Reality would win, further advancing his plans. Infinite would go bankrupt from all the money he was making them spend on the contest. Tom was a genius. A half-assed, power-hungry, money-crazed genius.

"Monopoly," I breathed again, holding Blake close.

"I'm guessing you like the game?" he sputtered out in confusion. I looked up, his green eyes locked on my own. I could just kiss him. And that's what I did.

Pushing myself onto my toes, I pressed my lips eagerly to his.

His reaction came just as swiftly; he wrapped his arms around my waist as I wrapped mine around his neck, pulling him closer. He deepened the kiss, moaning as he licked my lips, begging for entrance. My mouth opened, and together we came alive. I ran my hands through his hair, getting tangled in the chocolate waves. He tasted like chocolate himself, sweet and delicate; he tasted like Blake.

Oh, God.

I might have let out a moan too, though I couldn't tell. We kissed for a few minutes longer before breaking away for some much needed air.

"What... what was that for?" Blake asked breathlessly, holding me in his arms as I sat on his lap.

"You won, remember? I thought I owed you a kiss." I said, just as breathlessly. He grinned and pressed his lips back to mine, and I savored his touch, his taste. I wanted him just as much as he wanted me.

It couldn't have been just part of the plan. I couldn't have just imagined these feelings that I felt for Blake. They had to be real.

I had to be falling for him.

When we broke apart again, I pulled away reluctantly, pressing my forehead against his as we breathed heavily. "I have to go." I whispered, kissing him lightly at the edge of his mouth.

"Do you?" he asked in a whisper that sent shivers down my spin.

I have to tell Mike.

Nodding, I climbed off of him and picked up the drumsticks, weighing it it my hands. Though they'll never be the same as Rev, it was enough to stop the hurt in my chest from losing my drumsticks. With a deep breath, I stuck the sticks into my combat boot, missing the feel of wood against my shin.

Blake stood from his spot, hugging my waist and pulling me back to him. "Don't go yet, please." he begged.

I spun around, kissing him on the nose before ducking and darting away from his grasp. "This is important," I called to him, already making my way to the entrance of the bus.

"More important than Monopoly?" he yelled after me; I could practically hear the amusement in his voice. Opening the doors of the bus, I quickly hopped off, feeling the Californian air against my skin. I shot a look towards Tom's RV, hiding slyly behind Tilted's bus.

"You have no idea." I whispered with a smirk.

--

Holy fucking shit, this was the longest chapter I've ever written for any of my stories. I just got really into the cute shit between Lacey and Blake, okay? I couldn't help myself. And so sorry for the huge time-skip; I know you all barely got to witness round three, but it was needed. No need to stretch out the story any longer. (Plus it's boring.)

Round four will have a few timeskips too, so you've been warned. On the plus side, the ending to this chapter was pretty important, so. Ha, what do you all think about Tom?

Oh, God. I've just been getting really emotional over this story. I'm just so happy, because like, I started out writing this back in 2012 (You can tell, because of how immature and shit my writing was in the first few chapters) and now I'm so close to finishing my first story on wattpad.

It's fucking great.

Please, please, please shoot a comment down below and let me know what you think! I love readings your comments and I never get that many. -sad face- Feel free to vote too!

A final thing: I was originally planning on posting the one-shot winner's entry on this chapter and annoucing the winners but alas, I'm out of space. So what I'll be doing is posting a Chapter 36.5, which will basically hold all of that information. It will probably be posted like today, or tomorrow.

I'm also so close to hitting 1k fans. Jesus, I love you all so much.

Comment, vote, promote!

-Isa