"The last fucking thing this band needs is some narcissistic twit replacing Lorna," Alex hissed, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "We're already at each other's throats all day, every day. You wanna throw somebody in here with no real experience to play with us? We play three thousand seaters, Red. We're in a different city every week. This isn't a fucking elementary school talent show. We're musicians. Like real musicans. "

Before their manager could respond (She was beginning to glower over at Alex from across the table like she was coming up with five hundred different ways to tell her to go fuck herself) when Nicky interjected.

"Dude," she rolled her eyes, poking Alex's rose tattoo subversively, "We really don't have much of a fucking choice now do we?"

"Yeah we do," Alex countered, scowling at the wild haired bassist. "We can finish the tour. I'll sing if I have to."

"Be prepared for alot of refunds," she retorted. "Listen, I know this is a shit situation and believe me, I don't wanna fucking be doing this anymore than you do. I also didn't plan for my girlfriend to suddenly decide she's into dick and run off and get married."

Being friends with her for ten years certainly gave Nicky the ability to know how and when to shut Alex up. The guitarist opened her mouth and closed it again.

"I started this band up with you and as much as it's your baby and you don't think I take shit seriously, I do," she offered unapologetically. "And trust me, we need to find a fucking singer or there is no tour. Might as well haul our asses back to New York."

"Thank you for doing all the work for me, Nichols," Red cut in, taking a swig of lukewarm coffee. "Fucking terrible," she made a face. "Nobody knows how to make a decent cup of coffee in this state?"

Alex sighed, pushing away her half eaten pancakes. "Obviously I'm outnumbered here."

Their manager folded her hands and met Alex's gaze. "Why did you hire me, huh?"

"Fuck, Vause," Nicky groaned, leaning her forehead against the cool formica table top. "You had to get her started."

"Did you think I was going to sit around and tell you how good you sound? Or. how pretty you are? Because if that's who you want, find another manager."

"Red-"

"Why did you hire me? Just answer the question."

She knew exactly where this was going. "To make us money," she responded mechanically. Putting up with Red's bullshit had seemed a small price to pay since she'd single handley brought them from playing shithole dive bars and hole in the wall clubs to opening at concerts at Madison Square Garden. Alex considered herself relatively business savvy but Red was who made deals, got them better money, argued with record labels so that they could concentrate solely on the music. As much as the Russian got under her skin, Alex trusted her implicitly. If she and Nicky thought they should find someone to replace Lorna, then that's what would happen, despite her protests. Poussey, who was scared shitless of Red had quickly shook her head against Alex's objections. "Nah, man," she'd said. "It ain't worth the fight. I'm only the drummer. If she won't listen to you, what the fuck makes you think she gonna listen to my ass?"

The second Red had made them have a sit down at some obscure diner while they were just outside of St. Louis, Alex knew things were fucked. All Red cared about was not losing out on the money the tour was bringing in and Nicky was too emotionally scarred to make sound decisions. Poussey hated conflict so that left Alex and Alex only to consider what was best for the band. And she was almost positive that bringing in someone with little professional experience would fuck up their dynamic. Hell, when Nicky and Lorna had started up, she'd been dead set against it and lo and behold, she'd been right. "You don't shit where you eat," she'd warned her friend but Nicky had sworn up and down it wouldn't interfere with anything. She and Poussey hadn't thought anything would come of it, after all, it was Nicky's style to fuck around; girls they'd met on the road, girls they knew from other bands. She didn't let herself get involved with anyone and normally, Alex was fine with it but not when it came to the band. Not when she'd worked so hard to get them on the map. Lorna had been different and she'd begrudgingly admitted it was nice seeing her friend so happy. It had blindsided all of them when the singer had left for a chance at a "normal life". As devestated as Alex was at her sudden departure, she couldn't help but be more devestated for her friend. It was a double blow.

"Glad you see it my way," Red looked very much like the cat who ate the canary. "We've wasted enough time already. We have a few possibilities lined up for today...we have a show in two days so we need to find someone who can learn fast."

"Did I just hear you say she's gonna sing with us at the fucking Fox?" Alex asked incredulously, leaning forward in the booth. "What the actual fuck Red?"

Nicky touched her arm warningly. "Vause-"

"No, Nick, this is where I draw the line. She wants us to find a new singer today and teach her an entire set list in two days? Is she fucking serious? She doesn't give a shit if we look like fools or not. People talk, Red," her green eyes bore into the older woman's. "No one's gonna take us seriously if it's fucking amateur hour out there."

"She's got a point, Red," Nicky shrugged. "It's a shit ton to learn in two days. Especially for someone who hasn't played a big house before."

"What does Poussey think about this? Where is she anyway? Why isn't she here?" Alex asked suddenly. It seemed extremely odd that only she and Nicky were present.

"I already spoke to her, she's on board with whatever I decide," Red replied, daring anyone to contradict her.

"That's convenient," Alex muttered. The whole meeting was a formality. Red already had decided what she wanted to do and the reality was, she didn't give a fuck if either of them thought it was a bad idea. Red's word was gospel and Alex was only one to ever challenge her. It hadn't always been that way; once upon a time Nicky had been quick to have her back and even though she hadn't known Lorna and Poussey nearly as long, they did as well. The four of them had been a united front. Then the saga that was Nicky/Lorna happened, Red got them a record deal and began to subtlety pit them against one another by telling each of them individually the the other was trying to get them replaced. It created a hostile environment and instead of the solid foundation they'd had in the beginning, trust was scare and Alex could barely recall a time in the recent past where they weren't fighting like kids on the playground. Lorna's leaving without warning had only added fuel to the fire of an already delicate situation.

"Listen to me," The red head lowered her voice to a decibel that meant she wanted to slap the shit out of Alex, Nicky and maybe the waitress for bringing her such a subpar cup of coffee. "You both need to step the fuck up. Vause, you could teach a monkey to sing your songs and Nichols, Jesus Christ...take some Prozac and get it together. Pick a girl who is pretty to look at, who can sing just enough and cash your check, just like everyone else." She eyed Alex pointedly. "I didn't hear you bitching and moaning when the money I made you got your mother out of the trailer park and into a house."

At the mention of Diane, Alex reflexively balled her fists but Nicky shook her head. "Suppose we find a girl today and we teach her the music...then what? Is she gonna finish up the tour with us, go on the next album? What happens next?"

"Ah, you're thinking too far ahead," Red pointed a finger at her. "First we find the girl, then we go from there. Can I count on you two? To audition the new singer?"

Instead of answering, Alex turned to her friend. "Nick, you know how important this is...this band. I've given up everything. Fuck, you have too, man. You were there with me, the whole time. Are we really gonna let some chick come in and fuck up everything we've worked so hard for? We'll find a singer. A real singer. But it's going to take awhile to find someone good and until then, we can make it work. We can. Just please...please be on my side for once. I'm fucking begging you. Don't agree to this."

The bassist's expression was morose. "Dude," she sighed. "You and me...we've been through alot together. You know I love you, I do...but Vause, this shit is a business. We're not playing little clubs anymore. This is the big leagues. We have to play the game. We have to or we can just go fuck off, you know?"

"You have a future yet, Nichols," Red smirked, reaching across the table to punch her in the shoulder. "Vause?"

"I don't have much of a fucking choice now, do I?" she mumbled darkly. "What time does this three ring circus start?"

"Two. The first one is going to meet us with her manager at the Fox."

"She's got a manager?" Nicky perked up, elbowing Alex in the ribs. "That's promising, huh?"

"Shut up," She turned to Red. "So she has some experience I take it. Since she has a manager and all."

Ignoring the sarcasm in Alex's tone, the older woman nodded. "She's performed all over Boston. Trying to break out professionally. Her manager sent out some demos...hell of a voice." Red's expression hardened, her mouth set in a thin, firm line. "Don't sleep with her, Vause. Under any circumstances. Don't even try, you understand? Off limits."

The brunette laughed hollowly. "You should be talking to Nichols. She's the one who likes to bang anything in a skirt."

"Hey, fuck you."

"What's her name," Alex asked, ignoring her friend's protests.

"Uh, Chapman," Their manager peered at her phone over her glasses. "Piper Chapman."

"Well, this Piper Chapman better be amazing," Alex said, eyeing Red. "If this is going to work, even a little, she needs to be amazing."