"I need more tears... or tears in general. Are you capable of those?" Dustin asked, taking me in with a narrowed eyed expression. "You should be. You are an expert at deception."

I stood on a small stage on the fake bar set on the studio lot, trying to keep my irritation at bay.

Dustin had been emotionally poking at me since I arrived on set, making it very clear how much he now hated working with me.

I get it, I suck. Calm down and let me shoot the dang scene, I nearly snapped.

But I refused to be baited. Especially since I recently and by dramatic means, learned that every move I made was being recorded for behind the scenes content— most likely for the DVD version of the movie.

Awesome...

So instead of being the drama queen monster he was trying to force me to be, I nodded, face neutral, voice calm and shook myself out, ready to tackle the song for the... TENTH TIME.

"I want the entire thing in a single take. No cuts, no mistakes. I want this scene to be one, long emotionally driven shot. Think you can handle that?" he asked.

I swallowed. "Yes."

Then he stepped off the stage as the music started again.

I was getting tired of the song. One I had sung over and over for the last several hours. But if Dustin wanted perfect, fine, I'd give him perfect. Anything to get me off the lot. This was my final scene and I was determined to leave him with nothing he could complain about.

Gripping the microphone, I looked towards the back of the room, where Luke would be in the scene, but wasn't needed for this shot, and nearly froze when I saw him actually standing there. He hadn't been there for the previous takes.

WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?!?

A bolt of lightning seemed to hit me, making every part of me come alive like a wire. I felt exposed, standing under the spotlight like an ant under a magnifying glass. I didn't want to sing with Luke watching. I didn't want to feel more exposed than I already was.

He had kept his distance since my attempt to talk to him after our duet in the arena, so seeing him again left me momentarily startled, soaking in details that I had sworn I had over exaggerated in my mind. But nope, he was still the most handsome man I had ever seen.

More and more articles about me were spilling across the internet, exposing every part of my life— from my many side jobs that I could no longer keep due to how quickly I was recognized, every past relationship I ever had, my parents standing on a soap box wining about how I had always been a terrible, ungrateful daughter, to people I had only vaguely known in high school claiming that I was always a selfish person. Each story was more outlandish than the last, until #GossipBiotch was trending all over the internet with my face as the top search result.

I had been judged and deemed unworthy. And now the very person I wanted most, the person who had the ability to make or break me with a look or word was watching and it left me wanting to turn and run.

But this was my final scene. My final moment to look into Luke's eyes and if this was my last chance to prove to everyone that I was good at my job, even if I had gotten it under somewhat sketchy circumstances, I was going to sing my heart out.

So as my character's song about heartbreak began, I opened my mouth and sang, my eyes focused solely on Luke Walker.

He looked back at me, those infuriatingly perfect brown eyes unreadable. His posture tense, seeming ready to bolt at any moment. But I refused to look away. He could leave if he wanted to, but the fact that he didn't gave my already battered heart a sliver of hope. A spark that wanted to consume me and drive me to leap off that stage and try to talk to him again. To reach out and hope he wouldn't turn away.

As my voice grew in volume, each word a pang of loss, I saw pain etch across Luke's features. A want that he couldn't seem to swallow back as he looked at me. A look so dark and so deep that it left me momentarily breathless, and for a brief moment I forgot where I was, who I was supposed to be, and fell into that look wanting to drown in it.

The rest of the crew turned their heads, seeming to watch Luke, to watch me, to watch me and Luke, picking up on our locked gazes and realizing that whatever our characters were to each other, it bled over into the actors too.

And as the song came to it's peak, my words an admittance of how much I missed Luke—'s character, Luke seemed to come back into himself and turned away, walking off set in silence without looking back.

My voice cracked, eyes beginning to water as I watched him go, heart ripping out of me and follow him like a shadow, leaving me hollow as the final notes left my mouth.

The silence in the wake of the song was unbearably loud and I replayed that moment over and over, a shattered piece of memory that cut deeper and deeper with each replay of Luke leaving without a backward glance.

"Cut!" Dustin shouted, and before he could lay into me, demand I redo the scene again for the millionth time, I ran off the set, with an hoarse apology, claiming I needed a moment as tears began to stream down my face.

...

"Um... here," a voice said, pulling me from my thoughts as I sat curled up on my movie trailer couch. Kevin, the casting director, handed me a napkin, seeming flustered to have been sent to console the leading lady after her dramatic departure from the set.

"Thanks," I said taking the napkin and dabbing at my eyes. "I'll be ready to go back out there in a minute," I promised.

Kevin shuffled from foot to foot, seeming to always live in a state of uncomfortableness. "Dustin said the scene was done." He shot me an encouraging smile. "I think he ran out of reasons for why you needed to keep redoing that scene."

When he saw how utterly wet the napkin he gave me was, he handed me a second one from his pocket. "That last take was perfect," he added bashfully.

I smiled tearfully. "Thanks."

Kevin turned to leave, but froze when he heard Dustin start shouting right outside the trailer door, forcing him to delay his retreat.

"You need to make up your mind! Because that nearly cost me another hour of work!"

"You were being unusually cruel," a second voice replied and I had to cover my mouth to keep from gasping. It wasn't my fault that Dustin was having an argument right outside of my trailer, but he wouldn't see it that way if he heard me inside.

Luke?

Kevin shot me a wide eyed look, trapped. He glanced back at the door, contemplating just making a break for it anyway, but stopped when Dustin continued arguing with Luke.

"Don't you dare defend—"

"I am not defending her," Luke warned, his tone ice, voice seeming to seep through the thin trailer wall and eating into me like frostbite.

"Actors are not punching bags. You were acting unhinged."

"Excuse me—"

Luke continued, pushing back. "You will be remembered as a vicious creative if you keep this up."

Dustin fell silent.

Luke sighed. "I've known you for a long time, Dustin. You've worked hard to get where you are. Don't do this to yourself. You are better than the way you've been acting. No one wants to work with someone who goes out of their way to be brutal like that.  You will be blacklisted if you keep this going."

The conversation grew distant as Dustin and Luke continued walking, leaving me and Kevin staring at the trailer door in awkward silence. After a beat, Kevin coughed and ran his hand through his wild curly hair.

"Well... I'm going to go..." He reached for the door knob, missed and then scrambled for it again, flustered at having accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation about me, with me. In his panic, his satchel got caught on the doorknob and his entire bag crashed to the ground.

His face was beat red, embarrassed beyond belief as I helped him put everything back in his bag.

"OH MY GOSH..." he muttered. "Go Kevin. You are WINNING at life."

I handed him back several notebooks, a now cracked laptop, several script pages covered in doodles and a high end camera. "Here."

He took everything and shoved it into his bag, unable to look at me.

Trying to put his mind at ease, I gestured to the camera. "You shoot stuff for movie publicity?"

Kevin shook his head, standing up. "No. It's just a hobby." Then he bolted for the door, shooting me a smile over his shoulder.

"I know it's your last day... So... I hope you have a nice... um... day," he finished lamely, seeming to mentally kick himself at his stupid departing words. Then he walked right out the door and ran right into an elderly woman who was in the process of organizing the snack table nearby.

"I'm sorry Beth," Kevin said. She waved off his concern. "It's fine, Sunny."

Kevin rocked back on his heels. "Call me Kevin."

She snorted. "I prefer last names."

Kevin forced a smile. "That's not my last name..."

"Close enough," she replied, waiting for him to give her the correct last name. But when he gave none, she stared him down, watching him continue to fluster under her unwavering attention. He offered her a salute and took off, suddenly needing to free himself from another awkward conversation.

Then Kevin was gone, leaving me amused by his flustered hurricane like nature. He was one of many people I was going to miss.

But as I gathered my things and left the lot for the last time, half hoping I would run into Luke, and half dreading it, I knew that even though I had grown fond of quite a few people on set, I didn't want to have that experience again. I was okay to be letting the movie star girl version of myself go.

I just had to find the last piece of the puzzle of who was after Luke, something I was determined to do, and then I could put it all behind me and forget about Luke.

If by some miracle I can manage that.

...

THREE MONTHS LATER

"She is definitely your sister," Lavender said taking a long sip of her ironically lavender flavored coffee as she glanced at Delle.

Bex, Lavender, Prism, Delle and myself all sat in a small coffee shop a few blocks from the studio lot, where Lavender and Delle were working on their latest movie project. Lavender was playing a super hero who could only access her powers when she sang and danced to musical numbers that she made up as she fought. But the character couldn't sing, or dance, making the entire thing into a comedy disaster.

I was excited to see it, especially after Lavender had told me so many hysterical stories about the cast and crew.

We had all continued to meet up each week and trade theories as to who our on set movie culprit was while also talking about our life struggles and victories. The coffee meetups had grown to be the highlight of my week and I had secretly come to call them, "coffee and conspiracy chats," but knew better than to say that out loud. Delle would have shot that name down instantly.

Delle rubbed her temples, irritated. "Misty isn't the fighting type," she muttered before shooting a sidelong glance at me. "She must really like Carter. I've never seen her say more than five words in public and now she's coming home with notes from school saying she has been getting into shouting matches. When are schools going to stop trying to punish the kids who are defending others?"

Although gossip websites had begun to grow bored with me as a topic, Cater went to school where gossip and nicknames had a habit of sticking around for a longer period of time. Iz and Misty had taken to getting into fights with anyone who dared to mess with him, something I was grateful for, but still felt bad about.

Carter and I had moved out of Lavender's place and into a small apartment with high security, having found it with Bex's research help. My parents, upon realizing I had no plans to continue making movies, had grown silent, making no move to try and take Carter or seek any kind of money from me. But they had also dropped off the map all together, no longer offering any kind of health insurance help for Carter.

Before I could even wrap my head around that, scrambling to find a way to make sure Carter's health wasn't put into jeopardy, Lavender had reached out to her contacts, and I had received a charity grant for Carter. Now he was able to receive blood transfusions without sending me under a mountain of debt.

I was still getting used to being able to rely on others, and it was strange to have some breathing room. To have the brain space to actually think about what I wanted, and to actually chase it. I had even started working on a lifelong dream of mine, creating a podcast about chasing conspiracy theories. I had uploaded the first episode yesterday but hadn't told anyone about it yet. I just wanted it to exist. Something that was just mine, that didn't hurt anyone, or require me to be anyone else to work on it.

"Iz is the ring leader," Laliana said, startling everyone, seeming to appear at the edge of the table, wearing a shy smile, a sweater dress, leggings and boots. "She has the Dalton edge. She'll keep a good eye on Carter."

I blinked up at Laliana still processing her sudden arrival while Laliana turned to Bex and Prism, waving at them. "Hi people I haven't met."

"Hi Laliana Summers," Bex blurted before she could pretend not to know who the famous writer was.

"Laliana? What are you doing here?" I asked, not unkindly.

She held up a coffee and gestured to the counter. "I like to write here on days I'm not on the lot." She glanced at an open seat at our table and self consciously tugged on a strand of her hair. "Umm... can I join you?"

"I invited her," Delle said at the same moment that I said, "Sure."

Laliana sat down, offering a shy smile at Lavender. "How's dance practice going?"

Lavender laughed. "Terribly. Delle wants to murder me—"

"True," Delle said, sounding tired at the mere idea of having to teach Lavender how to dance better for her super hero character.

"Your scripts are ridiculous, Laliana. Where do you come up with this stuff?"

She shrugged. "My brain is weird."

Delle turned to look at me. "I figured Laliana could help us analyze a few more things about some of the cast and crew on the lot," Delle said.

"You asked her to spy?" I asked incredulous.

Delle waved away my concern. "Not spy. More just... keep track of people and where they go and what they say."

"That's spying Delle," Prism said with a raised brow.

Delle snorted. "Not the way she does it. She can ask questions and people just assume she's being herself. Her weirdness is perfect for spying."

Laliana crinkled her nose. "Thanks...?" Dropping an ugly tie-dye purse on the counter, Laliana rummaged inside until she pulled out a notebook and pen, clicking the pen with a flourish. "I am a terrible spy, but I have been taking notes about a few sketchy people, and I think I may have found the person you are looking for."

Bex's mouth dropped open. "Seriously?"

Delle smiled darkly. "Don't underestimate the sweet ones, they tend to get people to trust them far faster than the scary ones."

"As in you?" Lavender asked.

Delle tilted back her chair. "As in all the women in my family minus Misty. That girl got all the sweetness."

I pulled the conversation back on topic. "Laliana, who is it?"

She opened her notebook and began to scan her scribbles. "Okay, I have several thoughts." She pushed the notebook across the table until Delle and I could see what she had written.

"Penguin Rappers?" Delle asked squinting down at her words. "I don't get it."

Laliana snatched the notebook back, face pink. "Sorry, ignore that page. That's for ideas that hit me in the middle of the night."

Lavender started laughing. "I won't be auditioning for that movie, thank you very much."

Laliana turned several pages, eyes on her task, face growing redder. "I never said they were good ideas." She pushed the notebook back towards us. "This one."

I stared down at the page, confused. "This is a list of people's names." Laliana smiled, looking proud of herself. "Exactly."

"I don't get it," Delle said again.

Laliana gestured to one name in particular, eyes bright. "Beth Swanderson. She's been working on every movie on that lot for the last twenty years."

"So?" Prism asked, confused.

"She knows everyone. Their names, jobs. Everything. She's famous for it," Laliana said, confident.

Then she turned to Delle. "Remember that thing you told me. The name thing."

Bex nodded, picking up on a connection faster than I had, suddenly pulling out her laptop and typing away.

Delle's eyes grew distant, thinking. "I thought that was just her being... off."

I still didn't understand. But then Bex gasped and spun her laptop around to face us. "Laliana was right! Look at this!" We all huddled around her computer, wide eyed.

"Seriously?!?" I squeaked so loud that half of the people in the coffee shop jumped in surprise.

Looking up at Laliana I started to laugh in surprise. "You did it!"

She smiled widely. "Couldn't let you have all the fun. I wanted to help too."

Delle looked ready to tackle someone, brimming with energy and no where to use it. "We aren't setting anything on fire," Bex said before Delle could suggest taking a violent approach.

"No. This needs to be done with Lavender flair," I said, turning to her. "Why don't we handle this the way you suggested. With all the cameras watching."

Lavender smiled, her dark painted lips turning almost sinister. "Oh... that is my speciality."

---

Thank you for reading chapter thirty nine! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes!

UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!

Laliana has joined the crew!

How will Em reveal the culprit?

Who is trying to sabotage Luke and Em?

Which Walker is the one behind things?

Will Luke forgive Em?

What do you think will happen next?

CHAPTER QUESTION - Have you ever done a group project? What was your job? Are you the leader? The ideas person? The person who does everything? The person who remembers they were supposed to do something, panic and do it all before the night it was due?