Summary: Emily Greene has always been poetic, though usually with her fists. When coincidence lands her working alongside her four best friends in Hollywood, the kinds of "poetic" she can get expand as she grows up. And as she grows feelings for one of her best friends. KendallxOC

Rating: T for teen because what I write is generally in that area. There will be violence. There will be some perverted jokes and sexual references. There will not be any smuttish anything! Ever. Nor will there be anything suicidy or druggy or whatever. It's just a simple teen fanfic. Oh, and there will be minor language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush or… anything. Technically, I didn't pay for Emily or other OCs, so I don't own them, either? But I do claim them as creations of my imagination and boredom! So don't steal them! Or I will sic something on you (what I haven't decided yet)! Oh! And, two poems are featured in this chapter: "Nothing Gold Can Stay" and "The Road Not Taken", both by Robert Frost.

Sixteen year old Emily Greene stood on the icy field of her Minnesota high school. Winter was in full swing and each breath that puffed out of her full lips took on a substantial appearance. Clutched carefully in her hands was a familiar hockey stick, the weight reminding her that she needed to keep her head in the practice game. Distracting the blue eyed female was the impending interview. After practice with the school's girl's field hockey team, the aggressive player was to shower (without proper time to do so at home, she was stuck in the locker room showers), change into appropriate attire (that outside of an interview she would never wear) and drive off to said interview, trying to land an internship with the rather large, every sort of job encompassing company: RCM CBT Globalnet Sanyoid. What the heck specific internship she was trying to win, she did not know. But she was one hundred percent ready for it. As long as nothing held her up, all would be perfect.

Every sprinkler on the field turned on.

Emily was soaked.

Something was about to hold her up.

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Four of five best friends stood before the field of their high school, bags slung over shoulders. Blond leader, Kendall Knight, stared down that the metal contraption that provided such a delicious opportunity. Blue beanie on head, he gestured towards the metal T, lips pulled up into a smile.

"Opportunities like this only come once in a lifetime," he stated. "And when they do, you gotta grab it and turn that thing big time." Beside him, Carlos Garcia stared. Contemplation was not necessary. The plan sounded absolutely fun. Consequences had yet to enter his head, like usual. They had, however, entered the thoughts of always thinking Logan Mitchell, the smartest of the quintet.

"Turn it and I predict an ninety percent chance of bodily harm. And I'm talking about us, not them," the dark haired boy said, pointing towards the girls playing roughly as always. A lot of the players on that field were pretty scary. They certainly were not the average teenage girls. And one of the girls likely to be on that field? She could be terrifying.

"Wimp!" Carlos accused, pulling his helmet onto his head. He was so getting in on this action! Girls in wet clothes? Soaked? Freezing? Funny and awesome! Prepared, he gave the black protective plastic two pats in his typical fashion before diving down to the bar, grunting as he tried to move it himself. Amused, Kendall watched. Paying zero attention, James Diamond continued to run his lucky comb through brown locks he was absolutely proud of.

"It's stuck," the Latino said, still pushing.

"I had my pop star dream again last night," James announced, clearly ignoring what had transpired. "This time I was wearing my lucky white V neck and I sang a Smoky Robinson song." The pretty boy slipped into the classic, soulful vocals cutting off when, finally, he realized that something was going on. "What are we doing?" he asked.

"A janitor left a T bar in the sprinkler valve and do you wanna help us soak the girl's field hockey team? Emily's out there right now," Kendall filled him in, grin ever present.

"Yeah!" James's lips curled up in a similar fashion and immediately he moved to help Carlos, Kendall doing the same.

"If Emily's on the field," Logan tried to dissuade the others, "then I predict a ninety-nine percent chance of bodily harm!" Their very tomboy, only female, best friend was not known for being gentle. But the other three paid him no heed. Instead, they all took hold of the bar, looking back at the smart boy, waiting for him to join. With a sigh, he shook his head and muttered an ever common saying of his, "I gotta get new friends." Dropping his backpack, he conformed to their wishes.

Matching grins on all four faces, Kendall, Logan, James and Carlos pushed and shoved, forcing the bar to move, grunting from the force. Suddenly, the T bar gave way, jarring to one side. The sprinklers began to spray water and the girls on the field jumped. They screamed. They clearly hadn't been expecting that and it was hilarious. The boys busted up laughing. Until they realized that the entire very wet and very angry group of girls were charging towards them, still screaming.

"And now we run," Kendall said and the panicked cries of the four boys joined the calls of their pursuers. The chase began, athletic legs of the hockey playing boys barely outrunning those of the hockey playing girls. Shooting a glance back, four of the troublesome quintet increased their cries. At the head of the angry pack? The fifth of the quintet: Emily Greene. And it had been a long time since any of them seen her looking so mad.

"This is what it's gonna be like when I'm famous!" James shouted. "Only the girls won't be trying to kill me!"

"If you live that long, Diamond!" Emily shouted, screams of her teammates' agreement rising behind her. Suddenly, the males were missing. And the girl had a pretty good idea as to where her four best friends had disappeared to.

Popping up in the dumpster they had hidden in, the boys caught their breath, all except Carlos who appeared, helmet tilted back, sandwich between teeth. The other three looked at him, stuck between moderate surprise (it was Carlos, they couldn't be too surprised) and disgust. A dumpster sandwich? Seeing the looks, the Latino offered his friends a bite.

And Emily, completely correct, turned around, leading the livid players back to the dumpster.

"Go! Go! Go!" One of the boys repeated the cry and the four jumped out, sprinting again, though they were all very aware that they weren't getting out of this safely. Emily knew where all four of them lived and by the look on her face? She wouldn't hesitate to lead the others there. Trying to throw the horde off, the boys dashed into what they thought was a simple alleyway, an open space between two buildings, a straight through. And they were wrong, finding themselves cornered against a brick wall. Beating at it desperately, the boys tried to knock it down, tried to escape. As the screaming rose in volume, as it neared neared, the four turned around to face their fate. The normally average shade of Emily's skin was flushed, from exertion and anger, pretty face contorted into something else. How much time was being wasted because her four best friends had decided to be idiots?

"Woah, time out!" Kendall called, making the universal sports sign. The raised hockey stick in Emily's hands lowered, dull red piece of equipment pushed out to pause the other girls. If Kendall was stopping them, it was for a good reason. And, it was Kendall. The brown haired teen knew that he would be a man and take the beating he had pretty much earned (chances were that the entire venture was his idea). "Give James the helmet," the blond stated, and Carlos quickly removed it from his head, passing it to the pretty boy. "You gotta protect The Face," Kendall added. "Right," Carlos agreed as James grasped the plastic. Terror etched its way onto the Latino's face. Successfully, tall, tan and pretty placed the protection on his head, fear for helmet hair erased in fear for his face. The metal guard was pulled down.

"I love you guys," he spoke, as though they were his last words. Again, by the sheer look of rage on their violent best friend's face? It was quite possible.

With a shrug, Kendall said, "Time in."

And the soaked, freezing girls field hockey team bore down on the four boys. The alley filled with screams.

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Emily absolutely could not believe that her friends had done that to her. Wait. Scratch that. She absolutely could believe it because the four boys she had bonded with since Peewee Hockey at age four were absolutely stupid and crazy and insane. Not that she herself wasn't exactly the same way. But the teen had never acted stupid or crazy or insane at such a crucial time. Granted, the boys probably hadn't known that she had an interview after practice (it hadn't come up in conversation aside from a "We all hanging out after school today?" "Practice." "After?" "Busy."), but still. Was soaking the field necessary? No.

And Emily had lost her shower time, something that set her pink lips initially into a pout and then into a scowl. She had been forced into a black knee length pencil skirt, crisp white button up and professional black jacket, all wet and sweaty. Her long hair had been matted and gross and needed a cleaning. But a forceful brush had thrust its way through and her untamed straight hair became tamed, pulled back into a thick bun at the base of her neck, the usual face framing 'bangs' tucked back with bobby pins. Not only was the teen uncomfortable in the get up, but she was uncomfortable with her sticky body. At least the actual interview part had gone well. Fascinated with psychology, poetry, generally smart and a very good liar, Em had aced the questions and put up a pleasant, professional front. But due to her appearance and poor attitude (brought upon by being soaked and just barely making it on time), confidence was depleted. Someone else was probably going to get the internship and their college application would look better than hers and they would probably get the scholarship money that was not promised but was a possibility. It was unfortunate.

Before meeting up with the guys at Kendall's, Emily stopped at her house, parking the old gray Honda Accord in the snow dusted driveway. With a dancer's balance and a hockey player's comfort on ice, making her way to the front door in unsafe shoes was done with relative ease. Hockey bag hanging on her shoulder, the teen groaned in annoyance. Moisture still clinging to her body, the cold air bit at her skin. And now she had to find house keys. As usual, the brunette discovered them at the very bottom of the bag in the last place she looked. "I really need to get more organized," she muttered, as though the note to self would actually happen. It wouldn't. Emily wasn't the type to change her ways. Especially not in the name of organization.

Quickly, she stuck the key in the lock and within moments, the warmth of her home greeted her. "Mom!" she shouted, voice harsh and the opposite of what her mother desired of her. The prim and proper woman scurried into the room, high heeled feet clicking against the hardwood floor.

"Emily, how many times have I told you not to raise your voice? It isn't ladylike," Mrs. Greene chastised, eyes that matched her only daughter's wide in warning.

"Sorry," the teen rolled her own orbs. "Just thought I'd let you know that practice is done. I finished my interview and after I change I'm heading over to Kendall's."

"I wish you'd hang out with a few girls your age, EmEm."

"I do hang out with girls my own age, Mom. I hang out with them almost every day after school during hockey practice and during dance class. But in my free time I enjoy hanging out with my best friends."

The older woman let out a sigh, fake, perky breasts rising and falling.

"Well, do you have to change? You look so nice all feminine like."

If Emily had heard it once, she had heard it a million times. Her mother had given birth to three sons prior to her only daughter, a little girl that she wanted to rear into girly girl perfection. Under the influence of brothers Mark, Jacob and Alexander as well as their father, Em had grown up to be the absolute opposite, begging to join hockey as a four year old because it was something the males in her life obsessed over. Mrs. Greene had only agreed under the condition that her daughter would also be involved in dance. Willingly, the excited child had agreed. Hockey had absolutely changed her life. The only girl in the co-ed kid's league, immediate respect had been earned by some of the boys who at that age recognized a difference in gender. And four boys she had befriended. Kendall, James, Carlos and Logan had become her best friends for life. Which solidified her role as a tomboy.

Something her mother still hated, still tried to convince her daughter out of. Each and every attempt had failed thus far and Emily continued to be the rowdy, rambunctious, dress hating, make-up refusing, hockey playing, boy loving, violent, rough houser.

Sighing as well, Em shook her head. "Mom, it's the guys. Wearing a skirt around them? Probably not the best idea. But," she relented, "if it makes you feel any better, I'll wear my hair down." Offering a smile, she hoped her mother would agree. By the second sigh she received, she knew it was a go.

"Okay, Mom. I'm on my way upstairs now," Emily said, starting to back towards the steps. "So, like I said, I'm going to change. I'll brush my hair down all nice. And then I'm going to Kendall's to hang for awhile. I'll be back before curfew. Phone'll be in my pocket if you need anything. 'Kay?" Receiving a nod and yet another sigh, the teen pivoted elegantly and sprinted up to her room.

The teen's resting place was fairly simple. Disorganized, but simple. The only true mess was her closet, which was where she headed. After literally kicking the door shut behind her, Emily stripped, lazily tossing the skirt, the shirt and jacket in a corner. Still absolutely chilled, the teen opted on a pair of black sweat pants, a plain white v neck and a black hoodie as well. Ready to meet with her friends (anger dissipated, especially because she had beaten them up…), the clothes were quickly tugged on. After sliding on a pair of worn black Converse, the bobby pins were tugged from her hair, damp brown strands falling to the small of her back. The brush was tugged through again, a little less roughly this time. Deeming herself ready (not that she really cared), keys were in hand again and she raced down the stairs.

"Emily!" Alexander shouted, racing around the corner. The brunette froze, turning to stare at her brother in surprise. Since when had he come home? Last Emily had heard of her mop haired, red headed brother, he was living in an apartment with his girlfriend. Near college. A few towns away. "I need to borrow your car. Please please please," he begged giving not a single explanation for anything. Still completely shocked by this sudden appearance, she nodded and passed him the keys. As he turned to run out of the door, she held out a hand. "Wait! I need a ride to Kendall's. Then the car is yours." Finding that a fair enough deal, the ginger agreed and drove his baby sister to the blond boy's house. Without a knock, Emily let herself in, finding all four of her best friends moaning and groaning on the couch. Was it bad that she felt just a little satisfied? They had single handedly potentially compromised her future.

"The Pussycat Dolls make the pain go away," Kendall stated, none of the four acknowledging the girl's presence. Hands on her hips, both shapely, dark brows rose.

"That's because they are so completely unintelligent that they numb your brain," she stated, not a fan of the slutty group. "I understand your male attraction to them. Hot bodied bimbos who look like skanks. But really. Ew." The four each offered pained greetings as she took a seat between James and Logan, where she spotted the most space. Based on the continuing groans (and tattered clothes), she decided that maybe she and the others had been a little harsh on the four…

"You went pretty rough on us today," Kendall noted, the others engrossed by the women dancing on screen.

"Sorry," Emily replied, half sincerely. "But I had an interview after school today and you guys made me miss my shower and made me almost late. I'm still sweaty."

The blond offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry," he said, fully sincere, though not regretful. Had he known, he still would have done it (that wasn't an opportunity he was willing to pass up). But he might have tried to warn his best friend first.

"Whatever," Emily responded, lips quirking into a smile. At least someone was paying attention, even if the other three weren't.

"What was the interview for?" Kendall questioned, before another groan drug its way past his pained lips. The brunette's lips parted to respond. James piped up instead.

"I'm gonna marry her someday," he said. Emily's eyebrows rose again, lips quirking into a disbelieving smile.

"You're going to marry Nicole Scherzinger? How?" Logan asked, as disbelieving as the fifth friend.

Immediately, Carlos, Kendall and Emily groaned, erupting in 'no!'s. But it was too late. James had already jumped up from the couch, feet firmly planting on the coffee table.

"I'm gonna be famous!" he announced, as confidently as always. "Sing to sold out arenas. Have like five houses." Kendall shook his head, eyes rolling. The show was as ridiculous as it always was and Emily had to share in the expression. Shooting a glance at Logan, her eyes narrowed into a glare. "You had to get him started," she muttered disapprovingly. "Now his butt is going to end up in our faces." That's what happened when one decided to seat themselves between James and Logan. It was uncool. Emily was tired. It had been a long day and she really did not want to have to physically stop James herself. As if on cue, the pretty boy began to sing.

"Make the girls go crazy," erupted from his lips dramatically, with a spin and movement of the hips. Was it bad that Emily critiqued the dance portion? Found the flaws? Mentally corrected it? "And then marry Nicole," James continued.

"Are you done?" Logan asked boredly. "Please be done."

"No," James began again. "Because here's the part where I… shake my booty!"

Emily quickly dove out of the way, launching towards Kendall. Her side pressed to his as James jumped into the spot she had previously occupied. As she had expected, tan boy began to shake his butt in Logan's face. "I'm gonna be famous, gonna marry Nicole," he sing songed, continuing his antics and the smart one closed his eyes, turning his face away. The fingers of Em's hand curled into a fist, nostrils flaring. Her face may not have had James's butt in it, but really. Her patience for the day had worn thin. But patient Kendall simply smiled and said one simple name. "Carlos."

"Got it," the Latino said, pulling his helmet back onto his head. With two pats to the thing, he stood up, gave a battle cry and tackled James. The boys crashed roughly to the floor behind the couch. Emily grinned and glanced up at Kendall. "Thank you," the muttered, and scooted away from him. Realizing how much couch space had opened up, she decided not taking it would be stupid. So, the teen stretched out, dropping her head into Kendall's lap, her feet into Logan's. One of guys, but not quite manly enough, the position wasn't awkward. Heck, they had taken baths together from ages four to six. This was nothing. The two boys Em placed herself on shared a glance and laughed at the two boys fighting.

MTVNews took over the music video and usual host, Sway, came on screen.

"Do you want to be a pop star?" Sway spoke. Immediately, the fighting behind ceased.

"Nope," Emily replied.

"Yes," James said, focus completely given to the music news.

"Well today is your chance if you're in Minnesota. Are you ready?"

"I'm in Minnesota," James uttered, confidence gone from his voice, instead filled with a glimmer of hope.

The camera switched to live footage. "I'm gonna be the next Gwen Stefani!" an extremely familiar blond girl spoke on camera.

"That's Jenny Tinkler from homeroom," Kendall stated, and everyone rose to their feet, standing, staring at the screen. Although Emily had little interest, this was James's dream and he deserved it. The voice of Sway overtook the audio again.

"Gustavo Rocque, nineties mega producer of bands like BOYQUAKE, Boyz in the Attic and BoyzCity is looking for his next pop superstar. But he's even more famous for his quote in Rolling Stone when he said 'I could turn a dog into a pop star'."

"I-I sing better than a dog," James said.

"Sign ups are until five pm," the gaze of five teenagers quickly flitted to the clock. It was almost five. The rest of Sway's words were ignored. Immediately, all of the boys looked at Emily.

"You have a car. And a license," Kendall stated. Grimacing, she shook her head. "I don't. Alexander stole my Honda. Dropped me off here." The blond had a second plan. He always did. "Call all moms now." Each and every single one had their phone to their ear, simultaneously leaving a message. "Mom. Call me when you get this message. We need a ride real bad." The different cells were set on the coffee table. Apprehension filled the air as they waited for something to ring.

"Ring!" James commanded nervously, all five seated now. Suddenly, the irritating tones of Carlos's phone filled the air. Shoving and pushing, the teens all dove for the phone, arms and elbows nailing each other. The owner of the cell wrapped his hands around it, answering as he stood on the couch. Biting her lip, Emily stared at the Latino, joining the others on their feet.

"Hello?" Pause. "Yeah?" Pause. Excited "uh-huh! Okay! Get here as fast as you can!" Smiles rose on everyone's lips. Mrs. Garcia was on her way! Or so they assumed.

"Your mom's coming!" James said excitedly. There was his dream! Within his grasp!

"No!" Carlos said, still grinning like an idiot as everyone's face fell. "But this nice lady's sending her crew over to give us a free estimate on aluminum siding!"

Without thought, Emily's fingers were drawn into a fist, arm pulled back before it was driving into the helmet headed boy's arm. "Carlos!" she shouted, though the sound was overtaken by James's own angry cry as he threw himself at the boy. About to join in the fight, Emily stopped only when a vase came flying towards Logan and herself.

"Kendall!" the smart boy said, panic darting into his voice.

"Emily has a license!" the blond announced, tossing an arm around her shoulder. James and Carlos rose up, staring.

"I already told you, I don't have my car! Alex has it and he was in a big time rush! He won't be bringing it back," the brunette said, horribly irritated.

"Kendall, do something!" James yelled.

"What are you looking at me for? Logan's the genius," the blond shot back.

"I panic under pressure! And you always come up with the answer," argued the smart one.

"What? That is so not true," Kendall tried to say.

"Yes it is," Emily threw in.

"No- I know how to get there," the leader suddenly realized.

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In front of Kendall's neighbor's house with hopeful faces they stood. The air dark and cold, they were reduced to rubbing their palms and blowing warm breath into their hands.

"All you have to do is let us borrow your car. Emily here will drive and we'll shovel your walkway, for free, all winter long" the blond explained.

Slowly, Mrs. Majikowski continued to eat her meat, contemplating. "I don't think I want that young lady driving my car," she said, gesturing to Emily, who frowned. She had never done anything to that poor old woman. And she was a good driver! That was why she was the only one of her friends with a license! Well, that and the fact that her mother made her test on her sixteenth birthday. But, the teen did have a reputation for being generally unsafe…

"Well, Logan here has a learner's permit," Kendall said, pushing the brunette back to pull the smart boy up front. "So, all you have to do is sit in the car and he'll drive. And we'll shovel your walkway for free."

With these new conditions, the old woman agreed and in their rush, the four boys picked her up and ran her to the car, Emily running ahead, carrying Mrs. Majikowski's things, not willing to waste even a moment. All of them were shouting. Logan asking if they had everything, the lady's purse, cane, etcetera. James shouting that they had to go faster, that it was his dream. And Carlos letting out a cry of "I don't want to break her!" Yanking open the door, the boys set the owner of the car in carefully and rushed into their own seats, Emily cramming herself into the middle. Logan in the driver's seat, they took off, of course at a reasonable, legal speed…

One minute until five and Logan was parking, the speed at which he did so probably the most reckless thing Emily had ever seen him do. Choruses of "Come on!" "Get out!" "Let's go!" "Hurry up!" "Ow!" and "Go!" rang out, meshing together as the five raced through the icy street to get in the building, to sign up. Logan nearly fell, though with the grasp of Emily, he managed to keep his feet and they continued, bursting in. James stopped at the check in desk last second. Immediately, his mouth was open.

"My name is James Diamond and I, I wanna be famous." He began to burst out a few notes and with a shrug, the pretty black woman stuck a sticker on his black vest. "Ow!"

"Fill out the rest of this sheet and wait for your number to be called," she explained, passing him a clipboard. The final four of the friends made it, Logan and Carlos cheering in success. Kendall's head fell back in a relieved sigh. "Alright, Knight," Emily grinned, offering her friend a low high five. With a small smirk, he slapped her hand lightly.

"I'm a star! I'm gonna be the next Gwen Stefani!" the same blond from the TV screen shouted, suddenly being carried through the audition doors by security. When she recognized her friends, her actions paused. "Oh hey guys," she greeted. Each of the five greeted her with a combined, "Hey, Jenny."

"He is evil!" she wacky chick warned, beginning to kick and struggle again. "I'm a star! A star!" Giving a slow, single nod, Emily waved goodbye before shaking her head with a "she's crazy" sighed beneath her breath. Glancing up, ocean eyes found the pretty woman standing in front of the group again.

"You. Name.""Me?" Logan asked. "Oh, no, thank you. I'm going to be a doctor."

"Yeah, well, I'm a desperate talent scout and you have a cute smile and Justin Timberlake made forty-four million dollars last year."

That was enough convincing for the smart boy. "Hit me," he stated, pointing to his chest. A number was slapped to him.

"I wanna be famous, too!" Carlos piped up, thinking of the money. "Woah oh-" His attempt at singing was cut off by a number being slapped to his chest as well.

"You. Tall, blond and eyebrows. Want your dreams to come true today?" the talent scout asked. Emily scoffed. Being a pop star was not Kendall's dream.

"Sorry," he apologized, as the brunette had expected. "My dream is to play center for the Minnesota Wild. But I'll also consider the Maple Leaves."

"Oh," the woman said, but slapped a number to Kendall anyway before moving on to Emily.

"Mm. No," the sixteen year old said.

"Too bad," the other female replied before numbering Emily as well. The teen stared after her, eyebrows furrowed. Had that woman really just ignored what she had said? And then touched her? That was not acceptable. Not acceptable at all. If she wasn't such good friends with James, she probably would have yelled at the lady, but she really did not want to mess up her friend's chances at his dreams. Not having a dream of her own, she highly respected those who did.

"Eight ten is next," the scout stated, pushing the clipboard James held before walking back into the audition room. The tan boy's nerves took over and he casually snatched Logan's number, trading it with his own.

"Oh look," he said uneasily. "You're next." The smart one stared up at him.

"Dude! You don't sing!" the Latino pointed out.

"Carlos, that was the worst pep talk in history. Luckily, I'm a genius. I'll think of something. Kendall," Logan prompted the blond.

"Beat box," was the immediate reply.

"Got it." The dark haired boy handed Carlos his sign up sheet, shrugged off his jacket and went in to do his thing.

"Beat boxing?" Emily asked, staring up at Kendall. The girl was a mere centimeter shorter than the one who had just entered his audition and fell a few inches shorter than the best friend she spoke to. As they took seats, she placed herself at the end.

"Yeah. Why not?" the blond replied.

"Maybe because beat boxing isn't pop?""Well what are you going to do?" he shot back.

"Mm… Probably nothing. I told that lady no. And I meant it." The brunette was as stubborn, if not more, than the blond.

Suddenly, Logan reappeared and the four turned to look at him. The poor boy looked traumatized and anger flared in Emily again. Logan was like the little brother she didn't have. And she didn't like it when anyone brought that expression upon his features. The smart boy took a seat, body curled in.

"Don't go in there," he spoke in a hushed, hurt voice. "H-h-h-he's Satan. He's Satan with bug eye sunglasses!" Logan drew his knees into his chest and he rocked in his chair.

"Eight eleven," the woman from before called. Same as before James traded his number, this time granting Carlos an early attempt. "All you, buddy," the pretty boy said. Carlos sat for a few seconds longer, then popped up. Donning and patting the helmet again, he practically skipped into the room.

"Hey, Logan," Emily said gently, tone abnormally soft. Emily was a lot of things, a lot of horrible, mean things. But she was a good friend and she hated to see her those who didn't deserve it upset. "Are you okay?" she asked, reaching over as far as necessary to pat him on the knee.

"He's Satan," the smart boy repeated.

"Do you want me to beat him up?" Emily suggested her usual offer. A shaken head was the response she received.

"Don't worry, Logan," Kendall reassured. "You don't have to deal with him again."

"And he can't be that bad," James added with a nervous laugh. His dream couldn't be that bad.

Carlos burst out, looking quite entertained. "Not going to Hollywood!" he announced boisterously, earning high fives from each of his friends. The woman appeared again.

"Eight twelve."

James glanced at the damning number on his chest. He was next. "Eight twelve's up." The pretty boy made a move to trade numbers with Kendall, but the blond was prepared, placing a large hand over the paper pressed to his shirt. Desperately, James reached for the small sticky note on Emily. The glare she shot him stopped his actions. "Don't even think about touching anything near my boobs, Diamond. I might pretty much be one of the guys, but I still have girl parts. No touch."

"James," Kendall started, as though Em hadn't said a word (he was the king of pep talks and she was the king, refusing to be a 'weak' queen, of the opposite). "This is your dream. Not mine." The two stood, the other three joining, and James returned his number to his vest. Comfortingly, Kendall placed a hand on each of the other boy's shoulders. "Remember, opportunities like this come once in a lifetime. Now grab onto that dream with both hands." He turned his friend towards the door and gave him an encouraging shove. "And go big time." James stumbled through the doors.

"We are going to watch him, right?" Emily asked Kendall.

"Duh," was his response. And, like the rule breaking teens they were, they somehow wormed their way into the auditorium, taking seats near the back. As they peered up over the red, fake velvet seats before them, James began to sing.

"People say, I'm the life of the party because I tell a joke or two." A grin overtook Emily's lips. As much as she absolutely loved to tease James, he really did have talent.

"Not bad," Mrs. Majikowksi commented from beside the brunette, who nodded in agreement.

"Although I might be laughing loud and hearty, deep inside I'm blu-ue." His voice broke. He looked nervous. And Emily frowned. In all of the time she had known the pretty boy, he only became nervous like that when he felt scared or intimidated, like when he was dealing with his mom. Maybe Logan was right. Maybe this music producer was Satan. Well, Satan could have his butt handed to him by a girl. James cleared his throat.

"Stop," the big man in the front said. "Stop."

"I'm sorry. I got a little nervous. Can I start over?"

"Oh yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Start over. Why don't you, uh, go outside and then just don't come back in. 'Kay? Next!" There was that rage rising in Emily's body again. From the look on Kendall's face? He was feeling it, too.

"But I'm good," James argued weakly, dream crashing down around him.

"I don't need good, I need the fire. 'Kay? I need someone to knock me out of my seat and as you can tell, I'm still in it. Cuz you have no talent!"

"No talent? No talent?" Kendall was up and out of his seat before Emily could even move, making long strides to the desk where the offensive man sat. "You're the one with no talent! You haven't had a hit in ten years!"

"Hey," Gustavo Rocque defended. "Girl to My Heart by BoyQuake was a hit nine years ago."

"Oh. Girl to My Heart? Let me see if I can remember that rock classic," Kendall said. Clear annoyance rang out. Emily leaned back in her seat. Their leader boy had this. Until he needed help, she was going to keep out. That didn't stop her from being tense and ready to spring up any moment, however.

"Girl my eyes, and girl my mind!" Kendall sang angrily, adding a few dramatic dance moves. The boy crouched, then thrust up, powerful hockey legs launching him onto the desk in front of the producer and assistant. "It never stops, after it starts. Cuz you're a girl, girl, girl to my heart! Heart! Heart!" Kendall completed the chorus on his knees, throwing his hands into Gustavo's face, as if threatening him.

"Woah!" the woman shouted, trying to make space between the two. "Security!" The big men at the door were moving. They were going to put their hands on Kendall. Two against one? Emily was not going to stand for that. That was her best friend defending another best friend. On her feet in a split second, the brunette was darting past her friends and out of the row.

"Hey, here's a new hit for you," Kendall continued. "Oh, you're such a turd! Oh yeah, a giant turd!" Items on the table flew towards the seated scouts, blond teen kicking at them. The yellow clad guards grabbed him. Still, the determined leader did not stop. "And you look like a turd!" Emily threw her body onto one security guard, already driving her fists into the guy. "Get off of Kendall!" she growled. "And you smell like a turd!" The singing ceased then.

"Hey, get off me!" Kendall struggled, nearly breaking free until the guard Emily had thrown herself on managed to jab an elbow into her face. "Ow!" the brunette cried, losing her grip for a moment. It was enough time for the big bad security to take a firm hold of Kendall again. "How dare you!" Em screeched, pissed off. Now her face hurt and they were messing with one of her best friends. Jumping onto the larger one's back again, she took a firm grip of the man's hair, pulling hard as she readied to deliver a punch. With an all too familiar battle cry, Carlos launched himself into the fight, onto the other man. Within seconds, James was diving in as well, onto a third security guard who had shown up. A fourth appeared almost instantly. And then there was Logan, brawling as well. Comically, Mrs. Majikowski joined, thwacking the 'bad guys' with the cane Emily had so intelligently recalled to bring. The mess continued, the amount of security growing. Soon enough, sirens began to approach.

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Escorted by police officers, the five best friends plus one Mrs. Majikowski, found themselves standing in front of Kendall's house, Mrs. Knight opening the door. Despite the current situation, Emily had quite the pleased look on her face. Sure, maybe they were in a lot of trouble, but when weren't they? Besides, Mr. Garcia was a cop. He could help lessen the consequences of everything. And sure, maybe her face and a few other places were bruised, but it was so worth it.

"Mom!" Kendall greeted, a little sheepishly, lifting a hand to wave. "Remember that time I saved you from choking? Wow, that was close. And I love you."

Silence.

Mrs. Majikowski spoke up. "I feel so alive." Emily snickered.

After some talking, the six offenders were released and the five best friends trudged their way into the Knight household. They moved one after the other, feet dragging. As they turned, they settled into something of a police line up. Although the boys kept their faces moderately blank, Emily didn't bother hiding the still pleased expression. Maybe they hadn't made James's dream come true, but they had taught those guards a lesson! Okay, maybe they had messed up really badly because James had lost his chance at his dream. The girl's smiled slipped into a frown.

"Dude," Carlos whispered, leaning past Emily to address Kendall. "How did you know those songs?"

"They play BoyQuake on the nineties channel all day at work. And I made the up Giant Turd song," Kendall responded.

"It was catchy," Logan admitted.

"It's my new favorite song," Emily joked lamely. Immediately, the joking ceased as Mrs. Knight and Katie stopped in front of the five.

"What happened?" Mrs. Knight asked, no nonsense in her voice. "The truth. Now."

"Mrs. Majikowksi tried to help us make James famous," Logan spoke up.

"But this producer guy was super mean to everyone," Carlos added.

"So I sang him the giant turd song and there was a tiny fight, but nobody got hurt," Kendall made sure to explain.

Emily shrugged slightly. "Well, nobody was hurt badly." Because her face was hurt. And she was pretty positive that the guard that she had selected to personally beat on was hurt and missing a few hairs. Maybe a tooth…

"And now I'm really sad," James lamented, sounding positively depressed. The brunette frowned again. Yup. She felt like crap.

"Okay," Mrs. Knight said. "Who wants a sandwich?" Smiles were back for everyone and hands raised. Fights worked up an appetite. Ready to head into the kitchen, the group was stopped by the small, but powerful voice of Katie Knight.

"Wait, that's it? That's your interrogation? You didn't put the screws to 'em or slap 'em with the hard cheese!" the ten year old exclaimed.

Emily couldn't fight a small giggle. "Ah, Katie, I love you," the teen said, teasing. She absolutely loved the adorable, puppy dog eyed girl, like the sister she never had. The brunette was nearly one hundred percent sure that had she had a biological sister, she still would have liked Katie better. Despite the glare that younger girl currently granted her.

"I don't know what you're talking about, but you are not allowed to watch Fox anymore," Mrs. Knight declared, amused teenagers watching from behind the mom.

"Well, can I at least hear the Giant Turd song?" Katie asked. The teens turned back, having started leaving for the kitchen, and Kendall smiled, nodding.

"Oh, you're such a turd," the blond began, green gaze urging the other four to join in. Three other melodic voices began to sing along, fourth, weak but feminine vocals adding to the song as well. "Oh yeah, a giant turd. And you look like a turd and your smell like a turd." Between the repetition of the chorus, the doorbell rang. With a little dancing and some more singing, they five made their way to the door. As the door opened, singing turned to screaming for the four boys, Emily not quite done. "And you smell like a turd," she stated bluntly. It took a lot to elicit fear from the tomboy (something like Mrs. Diamond). On the doorstep stood Gustavo Rocque and his assistant, the former holding up a hand in greeting.

"Yes!" James cheered, breaking forward to embrace the big man. "You've come back for me." Gustavo pushed the pretty boy off, scowling. "I'm not here for you. I'm here for him." The thick black finger pointed at Kendall Knight. Cue shocked expressions. Cue "What?" first from James. Then came "What?" from the other four. "I'll make some tea!" Mrs. Knight called. Shock continued to riddle the five teenagers as the group piled back into the living room. An awkward silence filled the air as Mrs. Knight retrieved the weak beverage. Five full minutes of absolutely silence. The entire time, Emily set a firm glare upon Gustavo. Poor James was probably dying inside. And he didn't have that right to make her friend feel that way! Eventually, the tea was prepared, a cup set down in front of the music producer.

"Mrs. Knight," Gustavo started, removing his sunglasses. "I'm gonna take your family to Los Angeles and produce some demo tracks with Kendall."

The blond stared, incredulous. "You can't be serious."

"It'll take three months. We'll take care of all of your expenses," the assistant, whom they learned was named Kelly, explained.

"Kendall," Gustavo spoke, abnormally high. Emily had an odd desire (that wasn't so odd for her), to punch his voice normal. "You have a gift. You have the fire." Was it just Em or was that finger wiggle too mockingly similar to James's when he was showing off The Face? "You also have anger management issues." At that the teenage girl burst out in laughter, drawing the gaze of everyone. The others who knew Emily couldn't help but chuckle a little, too (except upset James). She was the one known for her anger problems. Kendall's temper issues paled in comparison to hers. Eventually, the teen ceased her laughter. It was supposed to be a serious moment. Here these people were, offering one best friend the opportunity of a lifetime, an opportunity that another best friend had been vying for for years. "Excuse me," Emily said. "Continue."

"Right. Some people say I have anger management issues." Emily cut Gustavo off again with another snort of laughter. With the horrible things he had said and shouted? That was no surprise. As if to emphasize his point, the man's voice rose. "But I also have five houses!" A small break of silence entered the room, until James's vocals picked up again, desperately. "People say I'm the life of the party be-" His attempt was ended prematurely by Gustavo, raising a silencing hand and stating a simple "Stop it. Please. Don't ever do that again."

Despite the casual way in which the man had spoken the statement, Emily was bothered by it. Very bothered by it. It was such a shut down to James who really deserved to continue. The voice he had been gifted with wasn't something that should be forever stopped.

"Thank you."

"Kendall, we've traveled to twenty-two cities. We've auditioned over twenty thousand people and Gustavo's picked you," Kelly explained. That smug expression on Gustavo's face? Yeah. Emily wanted to slap it off.

"But I'm not a singer," Kendall bluntly argued.

Katie shook her head at him. "You sing all of the time. In the car, at the table. You sing to me when I can't sleep at night."

"No I don't," the blond tried to lie, probably well aware of the fact that his brunette female friend would use it against him (despite the fact that she found it precious).

"Yes you do, honey," Mrs. Knight interjected.

"When you shovel the driveway," Katie continued. "When you answered the door two minutes ago."

"But that's not singing."

"Yes it is, honey."

"And, he's always singing along to the nineties channel."

"Katie!" Kendall warned, frustrated by the various embarrassing facts his sister was spewing out.

"So?" Gustavo grinned. "What do you say, kiddo, huh? Want to go out to LA and be molded and shaped into a big old star? By the Gustavo Rocque?"

Expectantly, everyone leaned forward, fixated on Kendall. His response had the power to be life changing, for each and every single person in the room. Slowly, his own green gaze shifted over each of his friends, his mom, his sister. His stare stopped on Gustavo and the simplest answer fell from his lips.

"No."

The teacup in Gustavo's grasp shattered, and Emily was silent long enough to mentally commend the man on actually breaking glass like that and then to be mad that he had destroyed Mrs. Knight's teacup. When Carlos's bark of laughter surrounded her, the teen couldn't help but join in. Was that a laugh of relief as well as amusement? However, a glance at James's broken hearted, disappointed face immediately shut the pair up. Maybe this wasn't such a laughing matter…

"I'm gonna need to take a minute," Gustavo stated with surprising calm. "I'm gonna take a minute right now." He rose from his seat and stalked out of the house. Kelly counted out a few bills, dropping them to the coffee table. "For the teacup," she explained. Something shattered outside, everyone jumping except for the woman holding the cash. With a sigh, she doled out more. "And the planter outside." More breaking. A car alarm. The rest of the wad she set down. Shouts outside joined. Emily rose to her feet, prepared to yell at the man outside. Who was he to think it was okay to just break things that weren't his? Money didn't solve everything! But the gaze Mama K shot her had the teen falling back in her seat, out of respect.

Offering Kendall a small rectangle of paper, Kelly spoke a final time. "Here's my card. If you change your mind, call. You should think about this, Kendall. We leave tomorrow at two." As the woman left, Katie delivered a firm smack to the back of the blond boy's head, calling him an idiot as she did so. Stalking off to her room, the petite child stole a bill off of the table. "I'm taking a twenty," she sneered. Everyone simply stared.

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All of that night, Emily lay awake in her queen sized bed, tossing. Turning. Staring at the ceiling, music filtering through earbuds to weave its tune into her mind. Thoughts racing the entire time. Friday night came and went and the teen grew more conflicted as each hour passed. Kendall still had the opportunity to leave, to call that producer and have an opportunity at fame. Every selfish bone in her body thanked the heavens for his decision, to stay and remain her leader best friend. But logic berated her. He had to take that job. Wasn't it Kendall who had told James yesterday (was it really just yesterday?) that opportunities like this came once in a lifetime? If he ignored this chance, it had the overwhelming potential to be a lifelong regret. And if anyone deserved to have no regrets, it was her confident best friend.

Maybe singing pop music wasn't Kendall's dream, but it could be. Hockey was the most amazing sport in the world, in Emily's biased mind, and to play on a real team would be such an honor. But Katie was right, something the brunette hadn't realized until it had been thrust in her face. Kendall sang a lot. To sing that often had to mean something. And although James was known between the five as the one who sang and who would be famous, the blond could give him a fair run for his money. Heck, he already had. Therein lied another confounding variable. James. Could Kendall in good conscience follow through with the dream of a best friend? How would the pretty boy feel? When she had last seen him, he had still carried a devastated aura, the expression of a kicked puppy. Would he be mad at Kendall for doing what he wanted to do? Or would he be even more angry that the blond had so easily given up what the tallest so desperately vied for?

And then there was the future of the quintet's friendship. Kendall was such a vital piece! How could they function without him? They had all been together for over a decade, for over half of their lives. His absence would be devastating. Which pulled Emily along to another train of thought. The internship. It was kind of prestigious. It was worth so much. If results said that she had received it, what would happen with her? Would she be the one to break up their stuck together group? As far as she was aware, a lot of the companies should could intern with were far away, in other cities, in other states. Was another pretty addition to her transcripts really that worth it? Worth alienating herself from everything she had ever known?

But what about college? Wouldn't they all be splitting up after the next school year anyway? Logan was bound to go to an ivy league. Emily hadn't a doubt in her mind that he would worm his way into one of the best schools in the nation, if not the world. Kendall would go to whichever university wanted him for hockey, probably one of the better schools. James would end up in either business school under his evil mother's reign or he would run away to New York or LA for singing, acting, modeling, some sort of artistic self showcasing. Carlos would be Carlos and surprise them all with some amazing something. And Emily? Emily would hope and pray that by that time, she would have chosen a direction for her life, likely to end up at the school willing to give her the most money (if any offered her money at all). In a few years time, they wouldn't be the tight group of five. They would be split up and scattered across the nation. Would starting the break early make that much of a difference?

She was certain it would.

And that was why Emily found no sleep for her troubled mind. When the sun rose gloriously that Saturday morning, the sixteen year old stared out of her bedroom window, watching star scattered black melt into bright, beautiful orange, a gold that melted into gray, to blue. Robert Frost rose in her mind, two poems which drew roots in her already deep and mangled thoughts.

"Nature's first green is gold," she whispered. "Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief. So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay." A sigh slipping past her lips, daylight drifted into her room. Morning had arrived. Shutting her blinds to the outdoors she adored, Emily wrapped a blanket about herself, dropping onto her bed to avoid day longer. "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler, long I stood and looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth. Then took the other, as just as fair, and having perhaps the better claim, because it was grassy and wanted wear; though as for that the passing there had worn them really about the same. And both that morning equally lay in leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood and I… I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference."

Kendall was one traveler, standing before two paths that diverged in different directions. He had the option of one or the other. He could continue trying for his dream or he could make the best of the chance he had been given. Nothing gold could stay. Nothing as pure and wonderful as the friendship they had relied on, enjoyed, lived and breathed could last forever. If making a future and a life required acknowledging that sooner rather than later, well then, it required it. If the internship didn't fall through, then Emily had to take it. If Kendall had even the smallest hint of desire to try this pop star thing, then she and the others had to push him, had to convince him that it was okay. Kendall Knight really was a knight. He was valiant. He was loyal and brave. He would never turn his back on his friends and he always worked to better things for others. He would never be selfish enough to take the job for himself. He would never want to be the one to break the group up. So they would have to do it for them. And steeling now, Emily readied herself to do so.

As she ate a tasteless breakfast, as she dressed in jeans, in a boring blue and black striped shirt, in a black jacket, in a scarf and gloves and Converse, as she left her hair alone and long, as she explained to her mom that she would be busy all day and gone, as she wondered if Alex would ever bring her car back and as she walked to the houses of her best friends, she prepared herself to push this onto her stubborn best friend.

After a dreary morning that passed like a dream, she found herself standing in Sherwood's parking lot as the blond worked like he usually did, surrounded by friends who had the same beliefs that she did. It was surreal, standing there, fingers curled around a cart, ready to play their usual game when so much was on the line.

"So," Logan said, "I, uh, did the math last night on this whole singing thing and Katie was right. You're an idiot." The smart boy gave a firm shove to his cart. It rammed into a car, denting it considerably. "It's breaking right."

"Guys, I don't want to go to LA with that jerk. I wanna be here with you jerks and play hockey for our team, cheer Emily on her team, spend weekends practicing together," Kendall argued.

"But this is just like hockey," Carlos started in. "Only instead of crashing the boards and rushing the net, you're singing and dancing."

"What do you got to lose?" Logan asked.

Plenty, Emily knew. Kendall had plenty to lose. He had as much to lose as she did, if not more.

"Dude! California!" Carlos pressed. "The girls. The beach. The stars. The girls." Of course that would be on the Latino's mind. His lack of girlfriends had made him just the slightest bit obsessive. But a girlfriend had never been Kendall's problem and Emily doubted that a girl in LA would be anything special. They'd have more implants than her mom and probably faker attitudes, too.

"Yeah, but none of that matters if it's minus my best friends," Kendall stated and now guilt riddled Emily. But her resolve was not shaken. Stubborn as always, even when she was wrong, she had to be right. "Add those numbers up, professor." Pulling out his cell phone, Logan mimed calculations, to which Em rolled her eyes. He was such a little dork. "Okay. Carry the two. Ahh, nope, still an idiot."

Emily's lips parted to give her first ever, hopefully successful pep talk, to convince Kendall in nicer (when was she ever nice) terms that he should go, when her phone rang. Raising his thick, caterpillar eyebrows, the blond looked at her, as if to say 'really?'. Holding up a finger and issuing a severe warning glare, Emily picked up her cell, heart beginning to race when an unrecognized number flitted across the old screen. What if this was the call? Pressing talk, she issued the other end a falsely confident, "Hello. Emily Greene speaking."

"Miss Greene," a familiar voice said. This was the call. This was the very same man who had interviewed her yesterday. "I am very pleased to inform you that following careful review of all applicants, you have been selected to receive an internship with RCM CBT Globalnet Sanyoid. An email has been sent to the account you specified with explicit information regarding potential smaller companies you have the opportunity to work with. We expect that within twenty-four hours you will contact me at this number with your decision."

"Oh wow," Emily breathed out softly. This was it. This was where she said yes because she had worked hard and because it would let Kendall off of the hook, take away his guilt. This was where she sold the next half a year of her life for no money and no secure reward, but sold it anyway with hope that it might be worth it. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I will certainly call you back as soon as I possibly can."

"And Miss Greene? Once you've made your decision, it is expected that you will begin you internship within a week. Transportation, lodging and food expenses will be paid for."

"I am aware," she stated, four friends staring at her quite questioningly. "As am I aware that to receive recognition for my work, I must be successfully in employment for a minimum of six months and receive no payment from the company unless a bonus is rewarded."

"Your knowledge of what this internship entails is one of many reasons you got the job. Congratulations, Miss Greene. Twenty-four hours."

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir. I shall be calling you soon. Goodbye." With a shaky sigh, her thumb pressed 'end' and her phone was slid back into her pocket. As her blue eyes lifted to her friends, she found them staring. They expected an explanation. Especially after her completely out of character end of the conversation.

"Sir?" Kendall questioned, an almost amused expression splayed across his face. "Since when do you refer to anyone as sir?"

"Since I know that fake respect goes a long way in landing something you want," Emily retorted. Now that her decision had been made, officially made (a verbal agreement meant something), the need to be nice disappeared. "So, Kendall, if you decide to go to LA, which you should, you won't be the only one leaving friends behind." Her statement was met with silence followed by a simultaneously shouted "What?"

"Got an internship. Most opportunities are out of state. I leave in a week," she explained, so blunt that it was almost cold.

"And you weren't going to tell us about this?" Kendall questioned.

"Well, you were standing right here when I actually got the internship. My mom still doesn't know. I barely found out!"

"Wait wait. Hold up. Is this the thing you had an interview for yesterday?" the blond asked.

"Yes. I got an internship with RCM CBT Globalnet Sanyoid. And I have to work for six months. Starting in a week. Out of state. But that isn't important. What's important is you and your opportunity. I am taking mine and you should take yours, Kendall. You will take this opportunity," Emily asserted. Kendall shifted his gaze to James.

"What about you? You haven't said anything to me all day."

"I'm not talking to you," the pretty boy responded.

"You just did," Emily, Carlos and Logan all pointed out.

"You know what!" James snapped, voice rising as he took a frustrated step towards Kendall. "Part of me hates you right now. No. All of me hates you. But call that guy back."

"That guy says you have no talent," Kendall spoke to James. "Made you cry." He gestured to Logan. "And broke my mom's teacup."

"Yeah, but he wants to make you famous." Angrily, James gripped his cart again and shoved. The metal rolled quickly, knocking into a bag holding man, knocking him into the ground.

"Sorry," the four boys apologized, Emily keeping her mouth shut. Maybe the guy should have paid attention and not walked into the cart pushing area.

"Okay," Carlos put on his helmet. "If I make a hole in one, you have to call that guy back." With a ritual double pat, the Latino pulled the cart back. "Woohoo!" he screamed, rushing forward and jumping into the cart. As he rode, a car smacked into it. With the others, Emily let out an 'ooh'. Worry exploded in the teen. Yes, it was Carlos and he was probably okay, but the last time he'd had a car related injury, he had dove out of the back of Emily's moving Accord after his helmet that had fallen out of the window. A metal plate had been placed in the Latino's head. Suffice it to say, anything car and Carlos related not only made her nervous, but scared.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Emily asked Logan. The resident doctor to be usually judged pretty well.

"Yeah," the smart boy shrugged, quickly returning his attention to the day's topic of interest. "You should still call him."

"He's been on the cover of Rolling Stone," James added, pulling out a newspaper article with a rather large picture of said magazine cover.

"What other odd things do you carry in your pockets?" Kendall laughed.

"My lucky comb," James said very seriously, item suddenly appearing in hand. "And meet my ten personalized head shots." From within his coat, he produced a stack of eight by eleven inch photos. Emily snorted in laughter.

"Really?" she asked, not surprised in the slightest. This was James.

"One 'Boy Next Door'," the pretty boy held up one headshot. When he next spoke, his voice deepened, "One bad boy."

"That was an impressive Batman impersonation," Em mocked. Suddenly, Carlos stumbled over, wrapping an arm around the dark haired smart boy. "We just want what's best for you, man."

"I'm Logan," he pointed at Kendall.

Looking rather disoriented, the Latino pointed at Kendall as well. "You-," he started to weakly say before collapsing to the ground.

"Are you sure he's okay?" Emily questioned Logan.

"I think so?" was the response. "He got hit by a car for you." All attention was on Kendall. Time was running out. Two was nearing and the teens only had so much time left to convince the blond that this was something he really should do. Emily wrapped her hands around her own cart and threw her weight into her forceful push. It flipped, rolling before crash landing on its side. "Oops," she muttered.

"Yeah. Opportunities like this come once in a lifetime," James span the same story their leader had before, the same one that Emily had spent much of her night thinking about.

"You have to do this," the brunette urged. "It is going to change your life. You have to do what's right for you, Kendall. Not what's right for us. Not what you think is going to be best for your friends. If you don't do this? You'll regret it. I know I would."

"Let me get this straight," the blond said. "You're saying that if you all had a chance to go to LA with a giant turd producer and record demos, you'd go?"

The reply was immediate. "Yes." Each of the four held out their phones, offering Kendall a means to call. Raising an eyebrow with a slight smirk, he took hold of his own cart and pushed. As only Kendall could manage, the thing sailed with ease into the corral. He pulled out his own cell phone and made the call. The entire duration, the four watched, listened. After hanging up, Kendall appeared as though he regretted his decision. Emily hated to see that look on his face, more than nearly every other look she had seen. The only thing she hated more was to see Kendall crying and crushed. That she had witnessed once. When his dad had walked out. Immediately, the teens set about steeling his resolve.

"Kendall, you've got this. You've always got this. We have faith in you," Emily gave him a playful punch, something that was more of a nudge of her fist. The blond nodded, meeting the blue eyed girl's eyes for just a moment, taking in the confidence she had in him, something he so very rarely needed. By the time a white limo pulled up and Gustavo climbed out, he was ready, yet his friends still uttered words of encouragement.

"Don't think about him. Think about millions of dollars," came from Logan.

"Think millions of girls," was Carlos's attempt as they all began the long, short walk to meet the man that held futures in his meaty palms.

"Think of me as a backup singer who can spin off on his own solo career. You know, after your second album," James said, of course concerned with his own dream (not that anyone could really blame him).

From her spot partially behind both Logan and Kendall, Emily rose on point, lips leaning close to the blond's ear. "Just think of what is best for you," she whispered, before dropping from the tips of her toes to normal height.

"Well?" Gustavo demanded as they all came to a standstill, Kelly on Gustavo's right, Kendall with his shortest and tallest friend on each side, middle, matching height buddies behind him, but close.

"Okay," Kendall said simply, smirk settled on his lips. "I'll go to LA with you to record some demos." Before Gustavo and Kelly could fully gesture their relief at success, the leader of five surprised everyone with an "If! You take my buds and make us a singing group." Shock riddled everyone, Carlos shouting a "Dude!" and Logan choking on the soda he had acquired. "Soda up my nose," he coughed.

"Well you guys said you would go," Kendall reminded the four smugly.

"I-I'm sorry," Gustavo stuttered in disbelief. "Are you trying to make a deal with me? I make the deals!"

"If you want me, you have to take all of us." Emily froze at Kendall's statement. Her arm shot forward, grasping his sleeve, tugging it roughly. "What?" she hissed, and so began a whisper fight. "No, Knight. Not me." He glanced back at her. "Yes you," he argued. "No, I can't. I just agreed to something else, Kendall. I can't turn my back on that," she shouted in a whisper, pulling forcefully on his sleeve again. "But you can turn your back on your four best friends?" the leader challenged. Emily fought back the urge to shout and scream that he was being unfair. She fought back the urge to inflict physical pain on anyone or anything. Instead, she gritted her teeth. "That isn't what I'm doing, Knight. But if you want to look at it that way, look at it that way. You four go to LA. Without me." Disappointment flashed briefly through the blond's eyes. But in a blink, he returned to confident and cocky.

"If you want me," he corrected, "you have to take the four of us guys." He gestured to Carlos, Logan, James and himself. Gustavo began to laugh.

"Have you even heard your friends sing? Oh right. They can't."

"Well, I'm no mega producer like you, but I know they sing better than dogs," Kendall stated. The confusion expressed by the 'mega producer' prompted a finally smug again looking James into holding up the newspaper article he had produced for the four earlier. "And you can turn them into stars. Right?" Gustavo looked unfazed. He tore the sheet from James's hands. "Is this supposed to sway me?" he asked. "I'm Gustavo Rocque. I'm amazing. I'm amazing. And if you think for one second that I'm so desperate because I toured twenty-two cities and haven't been able to find anybody, you can think again. Because there is no way, no way! that Gustavo Rocque is taking the fours dogs from Minnesota to Los Angeles to make them stars, it's never gonna happen! Never!"

"So," Kendall said incredibly easily. "We have a deal."

"Yup."

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That evening, Emily sat at the desk in a corner in her room, staving off tears she hadn't felt burning in her eyes in so many years. The four best friends she had ever had, the only best friends she had ever had were moving away from her forever. They were flying to Los Angeles together, to live James's dream as a pop band. And what had Emily done? She had denied that same opportunity because she had her own and because she didn't fit in the one they had taken. What good would a girl who couldn't sing be in a boy band? Sure, she could dance, but she would have doomed them. She would have killed James's dream.

It hurt. It really hurt. James had been so damn euphoric after Gustavo had left the parking lot with promises of drawing up contracts to be signed the following day. One week. One week was all that Emily had left with the four she had spent twelve years with. And the other four were absolutely ecstatic. Some more than others and Logan was panicking, but they were happy. Genuinely happy and okay with leaving the fifth of the quintet behind. Maybe it was her fault. Maybe she had done it to herself, but that didn't take away the heaviness she felt bearing down on her.

So, to ease away the pain, she reminded herself that she was leaving, too. Where she was running away, she didn't yet know and by tomorrow? She had to call back with an official decision. And so she sat at that desk, booting up her laptop, ready to read the email the man she'd interviewed with the day before had sent her. An agonizing, undistracted minute passed as she waited. When the welcome screen flashed before her eyes, Emily clicked the only icon on the screen, a one hundred by one hundred image of the Minnesota Wild's team logo. A box popped up for her to type in the password and quickly, her fingers tapped out 'FluffleWuffle', the name of the childhood teddy bear she still liked to sleep with. Hitting enter, another painful minute had to pass as everything loaded. The entire time, her long lashed eyes gazed at her desktop, a blown up photo of her and the guys.

In the center she stood, on the tips of her toes, dressed in a pink leotard, pink ballet slippers, pink tights. A tutu sat proudly on her full hips. Each of the boys held a flower, a congratulations to present to the accomplished dancer who had just finished yet another perfect recital. Despite the fact that Kendall, James, Carlos and Logan didn't quite appreciate ballet, they knew how hard their best friend had worked, how many hours her mother had made her practice and prepare. And they supported her, coming to watch her performance. Carlos even proudly reported that they "didn't even fall asleep!" To which he had received a slap on the back of the head by one of the other boys.

The photo was a perfect reminder of their friendship. Kendall stood proud and tall, the only one in the photo who was prepared for the picture, ignoring the chaos around him. Logan stood beside Kendall, glancing worriedly at the other three in the photo. Carlos was tugging on Emily's tutu, laughing as he fell back into James. The blue eyed brunette had clearly shoved the Latino. The pretty boy of the group had his mouth parted in a yelp, comb in a blurry hand that was fervently trying to fix his hair.

Despite all of the chaos, they looked happy. Irritation was written on Emily's features, but her full lips were parted to reveal a happy, white smile, cheeks dimpling. Her wide blue eyes were slim with merriment. Her button nose scrunched slightly and a small brown mole sat itself below one eye. With a passing glance, one missed the inch long scar on the side of her chin, courtesy of some exploit with Carlos the teen could no longer recall.

Every icon loaded. She double clicked Mozilla Firefox and the internet popped up. Immediately, a hint of hurt eased away. After logging in to her email, Emily found the official email on the top of various other personal ones. A few were in regards to her hockey team. One had to do with another upcoming session of dance. There were a handful of forwards and funny videos from Carlos. One daring email from James forwarded a beauty website. Logan had sent her a link to an official website full of sources for research papers. And an email from Kendall was casual, a back and forth they had proudly continued since Em had made an account three years ago. He had been the first message. But each and every one of those emails sent from her friends brought an aching back. That was the opposite of her desire.

So she clicked on the one that she did want and downloaded the long list of options, of opportunities. A slow breath slipped past her lips. "Be excited, Emily," she tried to convince herself. "Be excited. You were smart enough to get an internship with frickin' RCM CBT Globalnet Sanyoid. That's huge. How many people can say that? Very very few. Pull yourself together, man. You are not an emotional baby. You are tough." With a nod, she began to read the many, many pages. The flow of information distracted her, took her away from the unhappy thoughts. Instead, she began to question yet again what the heck she wanted for her future, which of these internships would further her in the right way. There were so many related to technology, but Emily sucked with electronics. There was a fishstick one (and although she enjoyed eating fishsticks, she did not want to work with them). There was a video game company and a clothing company. An entertainment company. A missile company (that she genuinely considered). There was a music production company in Los Angeles. A company tha- A music production company in Los Angeles? "Oh my god!" she shouted in a whisper. "Yes. That one. I want. I'm doing it."

Immediately, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed a number. It rang. And rang.

"Hello?" came a familiar voice.

"Knight! I'm going to LA!"

"Emily? What do you mean? You said you weren't going to come with us. I want you there with us, but… you said no. I don-"

"No, Knight! Kendall, no! My internship! Remember? I've been scrolling through all of my options and I've decided I'm going to LA. I can intern under a music producer in Los Angeles. I mean, it isn't the same, but we'll still be in the same city working near each other."

"What? That's great! I knew you wouldn't turn your back on your friends." Emily would have corrected him, probably angrily, if she hadn't been put in such a suddenly good mood. She wasn't losing anything. She still had Logan and James and Carlos and Kendall.

"So, you call the other three and tell them and I'll tell my mom-"

"Hold up. You didn't tell your mom yet?"

"Psh, no. Why would I tell my mom? You know her. She'd just be all 'oh Emily. Don't raise your voice. It isn't ladylike. Now, whatever boyish story you have to tell me, you should change your mind and instead go get a makeover with some girls and wear a dress, too.'" Emily rolled her eyes. "Besides, I literally just decided. Two seconds before I called you."

"So I'm the first person you told? Why?" The purely curious question stalled the girl. She could honestly say that she didn't have an answer.

"I don't know! But you need to call Logan and James and Carlos and I need to call the guy back and tell him my decision. Then I need to tell my mom. Oh frick. I need to call the guy back… Talk to you later, Kendall!" Hanging up, she quickly dialed a new number. Within minutes, her future was set. Emily was moving to Los Angeles in a week to work under an award winning music producer. Flight information as well as the ticket would be emailed to her. After arriving at LAX, someone would be there to transport her to new lodgings and hand her a large packet of information detailing all expectations. All that was left was breaking it to her mom…

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"Hey, Mom!" Emily greeted enthusiastically, flopping down on the couch by her mother.

"Emily. Voice," the woman reminded. "And don't sit down like that. Young ladies sit delicately."

"Mom, I'm moving to Los Angeles in a week." Mrs. Greene had raised a teacup to her lips and mid sip, she choked.

"Excuse me?"

"I am moving to Los Angeles in a week," the teen repeated. "You remember the internship I told you about?"

"Yes, I do. If you are referring to the one that you've been trying to get for three months, right? The one you had an interview for yesterday?"

"Yup. That one. Well, your perfect daughter got the internship. And I chose to do my interning in Los Angeles with a music producer."

"Emily Grace Greene, you can't just make these decisions without the permission of both myself and your father!"

"Mom, voice," the teen shot back. "And it's too late. I called the guy back already. I agreed to go. And I have to leave in a week. But don't worry! The guys, Kendall, Logan, James and Carlos, they all are moving to LA, too. Gustavo Rocque, he's making them a band."

"Emily!" Mrs. Greene shrieked, rising to her feet, teacup abandoned on the table, tipped and spilled. "You cannot just decide and announce that you are moving to another state! Who are you going to live with? What are you going to do about money? How are you supposed to support yourself?" The teen heaved a heavy sigh, running a hand through her long locks. Though it would have been incredibly easy to resort to usual Emily tactics and jump to her feet, shout, this was her mom. And over the years, the teen had learned how to appeal to her mother's better nature and win (or at least not hardcore lose) an argument.

Very calmly, she stated, "Mom, we went over this. When I told you that I wanted to try for this internship, I explained everything to you. I explained that it might be far away, that transportation, lodging and food were paid for by the company. We went over the fact that this is such a huge opportunity for me, that it'll look good on college applications, that if I do amazing, I might be awarded scholarship money."

"I didn't actually think that you'd get the internship when I agreed and I didn't think it'd be in LA," Mrs. Greene shouted.

She was met with silence. Emily stared at her mother, long and hard, rage boiling. Had her mother just said what she thought she had said? Appealing to that woman's better nature was immediately thrown out of the window. In a flash, the angered teen was on her feet.

"You didn't think I'd get it?" she repeated in a low voice. "You didn't think I'd get it? Oh! I understand, now! Not only do you have a problem with who I am, what I like and my friends, but you don't have any faith in me! It's great to know, Mom. Really great. Glad to hear what you really think of my capabilities. Well, forget you! Okay? I am going to LA with my friends who accept me and I am going to live there for six months and prove to you that I am capable and that I earned that internship because I am strong and successful! And I will prove to you that there is nothing wrong with me. I may not be perfect, but neither are you! And putting plastic in your body isn't going to fix your flaws!" With a snarl, the teen stormed away.

"Emily, dear, I didn't mean it that way," Mrs. Greene weakly stated, voice crushed beneath the violent slam of the front door as her daughter ran away through it.

For the second time that day, Emily was hurt. This time, her usual defense mechanism kicked in. Anger. Slamming the door shut with as much force as she could muster was only one sign. The second came when she kicked the door for good measure, strong wood shaking beneath the Converse covered, size seven feet, denting beneath it. The third came after she had stomped out of her front yard, picking up an old newspaper her father had forgotten to bring in. The sheets were torn away from each other, shredded in her fit of anger. Some of the pain alleviated following her actions, Emily let out a deep, shuddery breath. Scooping up the scraps of paper, she unceremoniously dumped them in the recycle bin, earth conscious enough to do that much.

With a speed walk, she made her way down the street, stopping at the corner. Kendall and Logan lived the closest, only twenty minutes away on feet. To reach Carlos's house, Emily would have to walk thirty minutes and James's abode was the furthest away, never a consideration in her angry stalkings. Breath puffing out in the winter air, she quickly took a hold of her cell phone from where it had been residing in her pocket.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hello?" came that familiar greeting again. To hear his voice. The girl couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.

"Knight. Hey," she responded.

"Emily," Kendall said enthusiastically, as though he didn't check caller ID to know it was her. "Just talked to the guys." Before the blond could speak more, the brunette interjected.

"Yeah. Cool. Hey, is it alright if I stay the night at your place?" There was no time to beat around the bush. It was late now and she was cold. "Or at least hang out for a few hours?"

"Yeah," Kendall responded lowly, as if he were trying to understand the sudden request. It wasn't as though Emily had not stayed the night before. The female was invited to nearly every guy's night because essentially, she was one of the guys. No one's parents, aside from her mother, saw a problem with it. Never had Kendall, James, Carlos or Logan looked at their female best friend with the slightest of sexual attraction. The boys were more likely to have an embarrassing dream about each other than they were to have one about her. And Emily had never wanted to be with any of them in a romantic way, either. Logan was like her dorky little brother. James acted like more of a girl than she did. Carlos was shorter than she was a little too immature for her tastes. And Kendall, well, Kendall was… he was different than the others. The fact that he was her best friend immediately took him off of a list of interest (something that applied to the others, too). "I'll ask my mom, but it should be cool. Why? Are you okay, Em?" The blond, somehow, usually knew when she was actually upset.

"Let's just put it this way. Everyone should be careful not to light my short fuse tonight." Although the brunette was generally quick to anger and quick to rough house with her friends, if she was really angry and in danger of actually blowing up on someone, she tried to give a fair warning. It did not absolve her of responsibility, but it buffered a lot of problems.

"Got it. I'll tell the others and remind Carlos a few times," Kendall said. "They're all coming over, too."

"Cool, I'm on my way."

"Wait a second. I thought Alex had your car. And you don't drive and talk on your phone at the same time."

"I'm walking, genius," Emily irately replied.

"But it's late and dark out."

"And cold. I'm aware."

"How far are you? Do you have gloves? A jacket?"

"I'm crossing the second street. Jacket, yes. Gloves, no. Why?"

"I'll meet you up at the park. We'll walk back to my house together."

Although Kendall couldn't see, Emily nodded. "'Kay. And Kendall?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"No problem."

A few minutes passed as Emily walked in silence, the absolute cold cooling the fiery rage. When she stopped at the park, Kendall was just arriving. He brought her an extra pair of gloves. He placed his warm beanie on her head. He slung an arm around her shoulder and asked no questions. He merely sang Emily her self proclaimed new favorite song the rest of the way to his house.

"And you smell like a turd."

A/N: Holy frickenstein this is an incredibly long first chapter. Other chapters won't be this long (or I really hope they won't be because man…). And a very fair warning! I am the worst updater EVER. So, unless I get lots and lots of motivation from others, it'll take me awhile to drift away from other distractions to get to typing this. The whopper you just read was written after a move whilst I had no internet. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Chances are there are errors, for which I apologize. I realize that a few things are inconsistent (like point of view, I haven't decided if I want to stick with limited or omniscient or limited between multiple characters). I don't really like what I've written, but do I like Emily. Oh, and, so you are aware. It's a LONG time before Emily and Kendall get together because Jo and Kendall are together (not that there won't be moments). A few chapters after Break Up (because what kind of friend goes after a friend immediately after a break up?). By the way, Emily will have a few boyfriends before Kendall. Oh! And, this story follows the series. With a few extra tids thrown in here and there. And I apologize that this author's note is long and I still have more to say… I realize that this general idea and character aren't completely original. I don't care. I haven't read any KendallxOC stories because I'm a Logan fan (not that I've read really any BTRxOC fanfics except like three). My LoganxOC fanfic just isn't as easy to write. So, any similarities? Great minds think alike? Because I really haven't read those others. And… note! Random, but note. nic98ole is one of my favorite BTR fanfic writers. And I love Rainboots. And Cheekybrunette is pretty cool, too. : ) And there are others I love, but those are the three that immediately came to mind, that I remember the names of. Lol? And, hope you enjoyed! Don't hold your breath for the next installment…