Another night of live music for the people of New York has passed and The Dojo has now closed for the evening once again. With the place all cleaned up, the bar and cocktail glasses polished, floors swept and all the employees clocked out for the night, Donatello took to the stage. At the piano Donatello sat, the lid up revealing the instrument's strings. Carefully, the Hamato son fidgeted around to test each note by a gentle press on each key.

Hiding in the wings of the stage watching her friend hard at work was April. Her hands were shaking as she nervously played with the fringes of her flapper dress. It was time for her and Donatello to begin their deal that she made with him earlier that night. At first, she was ecstatic that Donnie agreed to help her improve in her singing, with the exchange of her helping him conquer his stage fright, but now, the red head was having second thoughts about everything. She couldn't get the warning- no, the threat from her boss, Mr. Hamato, out of her head.

"Don't you ever step foot on my stage again."

From his icy glare to his furious but still eerie calm voice. The memory sent a chill down her spine. Even with her boss not present, April feared to step back onto the stage, feeling safer hiding in the wings like she was met to. She knew Mr. Hamato could be stern and strict at times but she thought it was all an understatement. Now that she has experienced it first hand, it was enough to make the cigar girl question everything she's ever wanted. Perhaps her father's warning from this morning was right, her dreams are too high to reach and now she is at the risk of falling.

"Alright, the piano is tuned up," Donnie says, closing the lid of the piano, "Are you ready for your first singing lesson?"

April continued playing with the fringes of her dress, her head down, "...I don't think I should be doing this."

Donnie was shocked, "What do you mean? This was your idea."

"I know. It's just..." she sighs, "Your father..."

She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, but Donnie knew exactly what she was referring to.

"Oh, right. That." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling ashamed for forgetting. His father's scolding is something Donatello and his siblings have grown so used to. An average lecture and criticisms when something isn't perfect or someone breaks a rule, but then they go on with their day like nothing. It happens so much for the Hamato's, Donnie never once considered how others feel from the aftermath of his father's wrath. He couldn't even imagine what April was going through, to have a dream shattered from just someone's words, but Donnie won't let that happen. He knows this is a dream of April's and he's not going to let his father's threats control anyone else. Not this time.

"Don't listen to my father," he tells her, placing a hand on April's shoulder to comfort her, "Look at the positives instead. The crowd loved you! Even Leo was impressed! And he's usually a stick in the mud. You brought life back to The Dojo's stage that you have not seen in so long."

"But Mr Hamato told me to never go on his stage again."

"I don't see why he should have a right to say whether you can or cannot be up here. I'm the one who performs on the stage, not him." Donnie then gives her a kind smile that sets April at ease, "Tonight, it's your stage as much as it is mine. So what do you say?"

April looked at Donnie, seeing his hand holding out for hers to join him on the stage. His gentle dark brown eyes and assuring smile gave her a sense of comfort. She knew Mr Hamato would be furious if she disobeyed. April also knows this may be her only chance, and with a friend like Donatello helping her out perhaps better things will soon come their way for her. Her dad is right that her dreams are a high risk, but it's a risk she must be willing to take, and perhaps one day she can change Mr. Hamato's mind.

Taking his hand, April smiles at Donnie with a determined nod, allowing the purple turtle to guide her onto the stage to join him at the piano. April stands near the large black instrument as Donnie sat down. Carefully flipping through his music sheets followed by the cracking of his knuckles to prepare to play, the two begin their music lesson.

Unknown to the musical duo however they were not alone in The Dojo that night. Every night the usual routine is for all customers to leave at the scheduled closing time of 2:00am. The staff of The Dojo then proceed to clean up. Once that's done, they can clock out and go home. This includes the Hamato family themselves, with the only exception being Donatello for personal reasons. However, unlike every other night, another Hamato remained inside the club.

In the backstage hallway, at the very end of the corridor was a small office area, and inside was the owner of The Dojo himself, Yoshi (Splinter) Hamato. The old rat man's hands were shaking as he mumbled to himself under his breath. He paced around the office in a frantic circle like a mad man.

"This is bad..." Splinter wildly exclaims to himself, "This is really bad- No!" He shouts, "It doesn't have to be. Perhaps Ms. O'Neil was right! No one will care about what happened tonight and my business reputation will remain the same!" he thinks it over for a moment, sighing with guilt, "Oh, if she is then I was cruel to the poor girl for nothing..."

He went silent for a moment.

"No! I was right! She shouldn't have gone onto my stage! I did the right thing to scold her!" Splinter sighs again, feeling defeated, "She was quite impressive though, and I was so harsh on her. I must've scared her out of ever wanting to perform again..." he pauses, "No, no, no. That is good. She'll stay away from the stage and she'll be safe from-"

Breaking his train of thought, Splinter's office phone begins to ring. The sound stops him dead in his tracks, slowly turning to look at the ringing phone. His eyes widened as each ring continued on, feeling it was growing louder and louder.

"No... please no..." he trembles with a whisper.

Slowly approaching his desk, Splinter hesitantly reaches for the black candlestick telephone. Lifting up the speaking device to his mouth and the other piece to listen to his ear, Splinter answers, "H-Hello?"

"Hello Yoshi," Splinter froze from the gravelly voice on the other end. He was praying to the Gods it wasn't going to be who he thought it was, but luck was not on his side tonight, "I heard you had another blunder at your establishment today."

"How do you-"

"You forget, Yoshi, that we have eyes and ears all over. Word travels fast. And I figured you might call us to help fix your mess again, so I decided instead of waiting for you to finish contemplating, I'd save the trouble by calling you myself."

"I wouldn't necessarily say it was a blunder, just a mild inconvenience that I handled on my own." Splinter awkwardly chuckles, "Thank you for your concern, but I will not be needed your assistance this time-"

"How much did you make thanks to that girl?" the voice cut him off.

Splinter gulped, nearly dropping the telephone from the question. No. It's bad enough his sons are in the crossfire, Ms. O'Neil does not deserve the same, "Please, leave her out of this!"

"How much did you make thanks to that girl?" the voice repeats again, slower with a demanding growl.

"...More than our usual profit."

The voice laughs.

"Is there a problem?"

"Is she a Hamato?"

"No!" Splinter answers quickly.

"Then the red head's existence is not of value to us, but her presence was noted."

He sighs in relief, "Thank Goodness she'll be safe. For now..."

"However, the boss decided that the profit you made today will be considered futile."

"What?! But Raphael's performance was a success! You can't ignore that because of one unplanned performance!"

"Yes, but the boss is not interested in the money you made from a mere cigar girl's act, even if she did sing with your son. He wants money earned from a Hamato and only a Hamato. Using anyone else just seems like cheating in this little game, don't you think?" the voice sneers, "So you'll have to make up for all the payment you owe after all the 'clean up' we had to do for you and the club's reputation the previous night. Better yet, since you 'cheated', our payment is now doubled!"

Splinter grew angry. How dare he do this to him, "I've already paid you low-lifes a fair share! How much more must you take?!"

"Watch your tone, Yoshi." the voice teased menacingly, "You know what happens when you back out of one of our deals."

Splinter froze, his growing anger quickly disappeared from the man's words. Slowly, his head turned, looking on at his desk. There he spotted a framed photograph, black and white, of his late wife, Tang Shen. Her porcelain skin shines even in pictures, with her long dark hair tied up in a perfect twist back bun and in a clean white flapper dress with a pearl necklace. Splinter still remembers taking that photo. It was during their younger years. Newly married and planning to start a family of their own as their night club began thriving. If only he could turn back the clock and warn her, warn himself, of what was to come. Perhaps things would've been different for all of them.

Letting out a long defeated sigh, Splinter finally speaks, "You're right. I apologize."

"Good." the voice growled again. Splinter could tell the man was smiling, mocking him, "So today's profit will not be taken due to that girl's interruption, so you now owe us double for our hard work. If another screw up like this happens again we'll just have to remind you who you're dealing with. Understand?"

"I understand, Tiger Claw."

From his words, the other end hangs up, leaving Splinter alone in his office, haunted by the confrontation. Placing the telephone back onto his desk, Splinter sat down at his office chair. Leaning back, he attempted to catch his breath, feeling as if he just ran a million miles. His heart was racing from the conversation. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he discovered time moved on so quickly.

3:45am the clock in his office read.

The Dojo has been closed for over an hour and a half, and he was resting for just as long. Rubbing his eyes from his mild doze, Splinter still felt stress. His mind scattered, it ached.

"I need a drink..." he grumbles, getting up from his chair and heading out the door. Walking down the backstage hall, Mr Hamato made his way to the main lounging area of his establishment, however before he could enter, something caught his ears. The sound of music playing from his stage, followed by a quite lovely melody of a young woman singing.

"Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do!"

"Huh?" Splinter's ears twitched, "Who could be here this late? I thought all my employees clocked out."

Sneaking his way into the wings, Mr Hamato peaks onto his stage to inspect the sound. His eyes widened with shock from the sight. His cigar girl, April O'Neil, up on his stage, singing vocal warmups. By her side on the piano, his son Donatello, playing each note for her as she sang the keys.

"What are these two still doing here?!" Splinter thought to himself, "And I thought I told that girl to stay off my stage!"

"Do-ti-la-so-fa-mi-re-do!" April sang, her voice growing deeper with each note.

"I'm impressed, April. Your vocal range is very strong. Honestly, I took you for more of a soprano, but I think alto is also a good fit for you!"

"Thanks, Donnie!" she smiles, "How about we take a break from my singing lessons and fill out my end of the deal?"

"The deal?" Splinter was puzzled. He wanted to reveal himself and confront his employee for disobeying his rules, possibly even fire her on the stop, but his curiosity got to him. Remaining hidden in the wings, Mr. Hamato listened to their conversation carefully.

Donnie nods, getting up from his chair at the piano to approach April who stood by the end of the stage looking out to the empty crowd. "Okay, the first step to overcoming your stage fright is to relax and not think about all the eyes on you."

"And how do I do that?"

"A funny sight can usually calm someone and forget how nervous they are. Like... OH! Try imagining everyone in their underwear!"

"That's more uncomfortable than comedic." Donnie rubs his arm nervously.

"Hmm, I guess you're right." April thinks through her options, "Then let's do something more simple. Breathing exercises! Start by taking deep breaths. Try it. Inhale...."

Donnie takes a slow deep breath.

"Good. Now exhale."

He does so.

"Keep repeating that, breathe in then out slowly..."

Donnie continues on with April's advice, breathing in then out, taking his time with each inhale and exhale.

After a few more, April continued, "Perfect! I recommend doing that before you are about to perform again, but I still want to do a deep dive into your mind."

Donnie chuckles, "What? Are you psychic?"

She scoffs, "I wish! But what I mean is, try and figure out what the route of your problem is when it comes to your stage fright. What runs through your mind when you're on stage and about to sing for a large crowd?"

Donnie pauses, his positive manner slowly turning to an anxious one, "Too many things, I guess. Like I wonder what they're thinking of me, I fear the outcome if I sing poorly; they'd hate me and I'd ruin my family's reputation." Donnie begins to shake, his heart gradually starting to speed up, "But if I sing great; would they want an encore? I'm not prepared for that! And what if I forget the lyrics, I'd make a fool of myself! But also, worst of all, the high expectations of what my brothers' have accomplished, and my father, and my mother, and my sister-"

"Okay, calm down." April says in a gentle tone, taking his hand, "You're starting to panic."

"S-Sorry..."

"Don't be." Carefully, April raises her hand up to touch Donnie's cheek, "You never have to apologize to me. It's okay."

Donnie smiles at April, taking her hand that touches his cheek and placing his over hers. He closes his eyes, embracing the gentle feeling of her warm palm on his skin as he takes deep gentle breaths. He felt his heart rate slowly begin to calm down, taking slow breaths. Donnie wasn't sure if it was the breath exercises or April's touch that was calming him down, but he knew one of them was working effectively.

"Donnie?" April says, carefully removing her hand away from his cheek, "May I ask you something?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"On stage, earlier tonight. You acted so differently when you sang with me compared to when you were alone. Why is that?"

"I've always been known to sing with a partner or with a group, never a solo." Donnie explains, "It was what I was comfortable with growing up, always singing on stage with my brothers and sister, and never really grew out of it. My father is convinced it's just a phase or even an act I pull to avoid going on stage, but it's not. I do genuinely want to sing, I enjoy it overall and the pay is nice, as you know why I need the money, but doing it by myself... I'm alone, and I don't like to be alone. Sure, I can enjoy my me-time here at night after closing, but when so many eyes are on you, judging you, expecting so much from you as a Hamato, I panic. It's too much pressure. So earlier tonight, when you joined me on stage, all my nerves just vanished. I completely forgot how nervous I was and was just happy that I got to sing with..." he blushes, "You. You saved me."

April blushes from the purple turtle's words as another thought comes to her, "But why is your father so strict about who goes on the stage? It's always been you and your siblings, why can't anyone else sing?"

Donnie shrugs, "I wish I knew."

"And it's best that you don't, my son..." Splinter thinks to himself, continuing to listen in to their conversation.

"It's always been a family tradition, first with him and my mom, then myself with my brothers and sister. I guess he just always preferred it that way, but I don't agree with it. If he allowed new voices to sing on the stage instead of keeping his 'Hamatos only' rule then maybe... I wouldn't feel as trapped as I do now..."

"Trapped?!" Splinter nearly gasped from this. He never realized just how much stress this business has put on his sons. First with Raphael's words from the other night: "I was forced to be a part of this, like a monkey in a circus, and I can't get out!" and now he learns Donatello feels the same way. Is The Dojo just a cage to his sons? A glamorous prison of fame they are trapped in with their own father keeping the only key that can free them. It made Splinter feel ashamed, letting out a long sigh. They may not believe it, but Splinter understands their pain, for his sons don't realize that their father is not the one holding the key like they assume. It is in someone else's grasp.

"Is that truly how you feel?" April then asked.

Splinter leaned in closer, eagerly waiting to hear his son's answer but he was quiet. It remained that way for a minute before Donnie finally spoke, "Enough about me! How about we go back to your singing lessons, huh?"

Splinter blinked, forgetting his train of thought as he grew furious from what he has now heard. "What?! Singing lessons? No!..." Splinter thinks to himself, panicking behind the curtain, "Does she want to be a singer?! Is that why she's doing this? Were my threats not enough to scare her off the stage?!"

The possible outcomes worried Mr Hamato. It's bad enough Tiger Claw and his boss are aware of her, but if she keeps trying to get on stage and sing for his club she'll soon find herself in the crossfire. Splinter must admit she does have talent, if she was trying to make her big break anywhere else she'd be safe, but not here. It's bad enough his sons are trapped in this predicament, she will not be willingly brought into it as well. He must find a way to drive her away from this goal of stardom.

Leaving his son and cigar girl to continue on with their little lesson, Mr. Hamato stormed out of The Dojo, beginning to devise a plan, "If I can't threaten her off my stage, then maybe intimidation will do the trick," he then smiles, "and I know just the person for the job..."