CHAPTER ONE: Gravity is Old News

Hello again, my lovely reviewers. And all of those people who read but don't review. It's really not very nice of you, you know. How do write your name in my dedications if I don't know it? Jokes, jokes. I just love your reviews. 3

To anyone who didn't read my first story, you probably should. It's called 'A Force of Nature', and this is the SEQUEL. I mean, feel free to read this anyway, but you may not get it. In fact, I know you won't get it ;).

Xoxo RosieRose

Time stood still. Actually, no. That's not entirely fair. Time slowed down makes more sense. Schuyler van Alen –now Schuyler Force – paused at the doorway. Was this the best thing? Surely there was a less painful means of doing this; for all parties. Jack, Allegra, Schuyler – even Mimi. Especially for Mimi. Odd as that sounded, their relationship was still uneasy… but it was more frosty than furious.

*****

'She was always jealous of this, you know', Jack murmured into her neck. The pale-pink rosettes that seemed to be held together with little more than air, and accounted for most of what was holding her ball gown up, quivered in time with her breathing. Schuyler had often had more than a little trouble with her nerves before a big show, and this wasn't even a big one. This was massive. In fact, if it wasn't for the pushiness of her model booker, she wouldn't even have agreed to do it. And she could see their point, a little. She was supposed to be the next hot thing – yet she rarely ever accepted offers from companies. As Bridgette had put it, in her clipped London accent, 'Honey, there's exclusivity and select, and then there's just plain troublesome.'

'You mean Mimi? What did she have to be jealous of?' She blushed slightly, aware that the apprehension in her voice could be misinterpreted as fear of Mimi. But Jack seemed to understand what she was asking. He tightened his arms around her tiny waist, pulling her in closer towards him. Gently, he angled the pair of them so they were facing the antique full-length mirror supplied by the designers for last minute alterations. Each looked just as perfect as the other; Schuyler standing in front of Jack with his hands rested on her shoulders. Like a pose from a photograph taken long ago.

'This', he told her. 'You. And Bliss, of course. I used to know her like the back of my hand, and I could tell she wanted what you have. She feeds on adoration. It's practically an addiction. Sitting in life's front row isn't good enough for her. She has to be on stage.' He shuddered slightly, burying his face on her shoulder. He kissed her neck, and then her cheek, leaving what she was sure must be visible burns as he did. 'I love you, Sky. I. Love. You.' He spun her round suddenly, so they were facing each other.

Schuyler felt light-headed. She breathing was quick and shallow, like she imagined her heartbeat was as well. And then he was kissing her properly, probably smudging her base-makeup beyond help. It really didn't matter, because in his arms she felt real, and solid, and safe. She pressed herself as close as she could against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He sighed against her lips, sending another shockwave down her spine. Schuyler opened her eyes for a second, the intensity of his kisses taking her by surprise. What she saw over his shoulder made her giggle. He paused for a second, pulling back, confused. The warmth of his chest against hers dissipated quickly, leaving her oddly cold.

'What? Why are you laughing?' Jack was obviously mystified, but willing to go along with whatever it was she wanted. He was too good to her.

No, he replied silently. I'm really not. You are too good to me. What was it that made you laugh?

It's nothing… His cloudy green eyes were demanding an answer. Oh, well. Um, it's your mask!

She pointed to the black Venetian mask balanced on top of the many shelves crowded with accessories. The mask was actually eerily similar to the one Jack had worn at the Four Hundred after party – the night where they had kissed for the second time, without Schuyler knowing who it was underneath.

And it was just luck that a mask like that was hanging on one of the overcrowded hooks, and coincidence that Schuyler had spotted it. The dressing space backstage must have contained a hundred masks. That was the way that Lucy Wren liked to work. Her models were used to it by now, and were no longer phased about her suddenly changing her mind ten minutes before a show, deciding that the dress was all wrong and swiftly restyling. Therefore, backstage was littered with all kinds of different 'fashion essentials'. But to Schuyler (who before the whole Bluebloods thing started had been a firm skeptic), it didn't feel like luck or coincidence – it felt like fate.

*****

Rita was the goddess of backstage. She had being doing her job for God knows how long, and knew how to get the models in line; how to get the make-up artists and stylists to do their thing properly; but most of all, she knew what a good look was when she saw it. The new girl they had hired for the night, van Alen, her name was. Well Rita, she thought to herself. You weren't sure about her from the start, but the girl is a style genius. Completely unintentional of course. Her painstakingly applied make-up had run and smudged (all over the Force boy's mouth), and her delicate rose dress was all crumpled – it was perfect. She looked haunted and ethereal. Lucy was going to love this.

'I love it'. Lucy had taken one look at the guilty-looking teenagers (who obviously thought they were in trouble) and insisted they both 'just had' to go into the show. Jack was wearing his new silk mask, and they had found a bow-tie from somewhere and tied it sloppily around his neck. Add a one-off Lucy Wren Tuxedo jacket in 'military navy' and a set of LW jeans so smooth and black they could have been suit pants and he was officially 'perfect'.

*****

Jack looked a little ill. If he hadn't been the legendary Jack Force, Schuyler would have said he looked very nervous. Stage fright. She remembered that Bliss did the same thing too. She was fine as soon as she got out there, though. Are you going to be okay? She ventured, concerned.

Yes, he said, at once. I'll be fine.

Schuyler walked out first, almost drifting along. Her delicate skirts reached all the way to the ground, so it actually appeared as if she was walking on air. Go to the end of the catwalk, pose, pose, snap. Walk back out. Unfortunately, Ms. Wren had failed to consider 'the shoes' when she insisted the model 'glide down the catwalk. Come on, glliide'.

In the single heartbeat where her heel caught her dress and she knew she was going to fall, right at the head of the catwalk, Jack caught her eye and she could tell he knew what was going to happen just a well as she did. But before she could even start to topple, jack was right there, just as he always was – ready to catch her when she fell. None of the redbloods in the audience noticed a thing, only the handsome boy and the beautiful girl up there in the lights, looking for all the world as though they belonged together.

If only they knew.

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