Disclaimer: I do not own VICTORiOUS.

Author's Note: Did you miss me? Yeah, you did. C'mon, give Lexi a squeeze. ;) Anyway, I'm back bit—nah, I'm not gonna call you guys bitches. I love you too much for that. 3 Anyway, it's good to be back… and because I love you guys, here's a new story, it's just the prologue, but I'll make sure to stick to it to the very end.

Also, watch out for a few more new stories—from Pitch Perfect, VICTORiOUS, and Gossip Girl. Yes. Beca and Chloe. Jade and Tori BUT OF COURSE! Jenny and Nate. All those wonderful uh-hhhuuuuhhhs. ;)

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"Vega, would you please stop dropping your end of the bag or, so help me, I will fucking drop this on your feet!"

We've barely spent two hours in Amberstone, Washington, and, already, Jade has yelled at me forty-three times—a new record! I feel the serious need to retaliate, but Jade is helping me with my luggage… you know, after Beck blackmailed her. She was none too happy, so the least I could do is not pick a fight with her. Besides, I'm sure snapping back would do more harm than good, since the Goth is simply famous for her revenge plots. Just as well, this is our last summer together before we all move away to different colleges, this is the last chance I'll ever have to get a certain scissors-loving girl to like me.

Unfortunately, she's making it so hard to stay optimistic.

"God, Vega, what did you pack? Your entire fucking house, or did you squeeze your sister in here?!" Jade drops her end of the gigantic duffel bag with a snort before digging in her pockets for the cardkey. She pulls it out and swipes it through the mechanism on the door. Oh, yes, how lucky of me to share a room with Jade West. See, this could go two ways. Either she'll like me be the end of the summer, or absolutely despise me a hundred percent, and all my efforts ever since I arrived at Hollywood Arts would've been for naught—oh, wait, there's a third road. She could possibly kill me and scatted my chopped pieces all over the hotel. Yummy.

I'm slightly thankful that Cat shares a room with us. Jade won't possibly attack me with the quirky red-head around, right? Right?

"Vega, for fuck's sake, would you please stop standing there like a startled hare and help me bring your goddamn bag into the room?!" I clench my jaws and shoot her an offended glare.

"Jade, could you please tone down the swearing? Seriously, ever since you came back from Cancun with Beck last summer, you've been swearing like there's no tomorrow—"

"Uh, Vega, you can't tell me what to do, or should I remind you what happens when people order me around?" Jade crosses her arms over her chest and submits me through a glare of her own, one that is, no doubt, scarier than mine. Still, I don't fear the glare—especially because I can see the tiniest hint of amusement glinting in those blue-green eyes. Oh, she loves teasing the hell out of me, I know that. Apparently, she thinks it's the best form of entertainment. Sometimes, I think she's only teasing me so that she can get some sort of reaction or attention—

Yeah, right, as if she cares that much. Stop your delusions, Tori Vega, before you break your heart even more.

I lift my end of the bag and we shuffle awkwardly into our hotel room. It's pretty nice. Floor-to-ceiling windows on one side, a balcony, luxurious couches, a television, three beds, a bathroom, empty cabinets, a dvd player, towers upon towers of CDs, and a mini-fridge that I'm sure is loaded with goods. It's no suite, but it's good enough.

"Finally," Jade exclaims as we set the bag down on the foot of the second bed. She stretches her arms up, back arching slightly, and her black sweater-top rides up, flashing me a view of the smooth, porcelain skin underneath. Her body is perfectly feminine, waist curving out to wide, lovely hips, and she even has a belly-button ring decorating her navel—a skull with emerald eyes. I should've guessed. "Like what you see, Vega?"

I move my gaze up as Jade stops stretching, arms falling back to her sides. The side of her lips is tugged up in her signature smirk—the one that melts me more than scorns me. God, I love that smirk—stop it! "Isn't that the top you wore when we were in detention with Dickens last year?"

"Yeah, but, as you can see, little Tori Vega, I've ditched those God-forsaken tights for fishnets. I think fishnets are a little more better on me, don't you? Besides. Tights are too conservative, and everybody knows I'm anything but." She winks at me, then proceeds to give me a once-over. "You know, Vega, for a second there, I thought you were ogling me—then again, that wouldn't be the first time, right?"

With that, she sashays out of the door, off to get her own bags into the room. I roll my eyes. Jade is convinced that I have a crush on her (well, she's right, but I won't tell her that), she's been teasing me about it ever since she sang "You Don't Know Me" to Beck and I honestly thought she was singing it to me. Humiliating, thinking it was for me, only to see her kissing Beck on stage. A big wallop on my heart, you know? I've been trying to convince her otherwise for months. You can see how well that worked.

Sucks to be you, Tori, what with your gigantic hots for an off-limits girl who hates your guts. Her actually taking an interest on you? Impossible. Oh, I'm glad I'm not you.

Shut up, brain, you are me.

Oh, God, I'm losing my mind. I abandon my conflicting thoughts and head out of the room to help my friends with their luggage. Hopefully they aren't as harmful to the brain as Jade is.