A/N: Hey guys! So this is for Black-Rose Marley, a wonderful writer who was the only one so far to give me two characters and a genre to write a oneshot on. I'm in a really good mood, so that should mean really good writing (I hope). Enjoy!

Jade POV

"And scene! Good job guys. You're actually learning to play a believable husband and wife. I guess your 'date' really worked. Now go home, wander around, drink coconut milk, or whatever else it is you teenagers do," Sikowitz said, and I smiled.

I turned to Tori. She was in her full costume now, and she looked funny in her mustache.

"Nice mustache. And…you did a good job," I said, my voice growing quiet at the end.

Tori smiled, and I could see how much it meant to her that I was being nice for once.

"Thanks Jade. You too," she said, and I made a sound of approval. Tori headed off to change.

I went and grabbed my bag, where I had brought sweats and a t-shirt bearing the word "NICKELBACK" on it. I took off my wig and put it on its respective hook, then headed for the changing room.

Tori was just pulling her shirt down when I arrived. She wore satiny basketball shorts and a very baggy t-shirt, over which she then pulled a plain black hoodie.

"See you later Jade," she said, waving at me. I waved back and she headed for the door.

I changed into my costume in silence, thinking that maybe she wasn't all that bad.

As I was tightening the string on my sweats, I heard a knock on the door.

"Are you decent?" came a familiar voice, and I chuckled.

"Yeah, come in," I said, tying the string off, and glancing up at Andre.

He smiled at me, now out of his costume and wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt that was pulled up to his elbows.

He raised an eyebrow at me, glancing down at my gray fuzzy sweats. I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, I wear less Goth clothes sometimes. Problem?" I asked him, and though I tried to put venom in my voice, it was hard to. Andre's just too nice a guy.

He put his hands up in a surrender and laughed. I smiled a little bit.

"So, you wanna walk around for a little bit? I got nothing better to do," he said, and I considered it for a moment.

Realizing that I too had nothing to do, I headed towards him and we walked towards the door of the Black Box.

"Later Sikowitz," Andre said, and Sikowitz waved obnoxiously. I shook my head. Typical Sikowitz.

We pushed open the doors and squinted a little at the blinding light of the hallway. The Black Box lights were a little low today for some reason, so the hallway lights seemed brighter than the sun.

"Whoa…I'm dizzy," Andre said, throwing his arms out to steady himself. I laughed.

"Where do you wanna go?" he asked, blinking away his reaction to the light. I shrugged, glancing around.

Suddenly an idea came to me.

"You know, we've been in Hollywood Arts for three years and never seen the whole building? Let's do that. Every inch of it. So that we can say we know the whole place instead of just a few classrooms and this main hallway," I explained, and the excitement was evident in my voice.

Andre smiled at me softly.

"I like this Jade. Why don't we ever see her?" he asked me quietly, and I felt myself blush, much to my annoyance. I hate blushing.

He just chuckled.

"So…where to first?" he asked. My good side told me to just check out all the classrooms, but my adventurous side told me to look for something….weird, unexpected.

"Let's just…look," I said, smiling wildly.

Andre looked at me funny for a second, and then shook his head a little and smiled.

"Your wish is my command," he said, waving his arms forward as if saying "lead the way".

And so I did. First we searched the first floor, which we were already on. We found a couple old classrooms, and this really really cool room stocked full of instruments that looked like they haven't been touched in years. Andre picked up an old acoustic guitar.

He plucked the strings a few times, and it had a very deep and warm sound. He smiled and plucked away some more, playing a tune that I know I've heard but couldn't place what it was.

I've never really played a big grand piano before, with all the pedals. I'd seen one, but never played one. So when Andre uncovered one from the corner, I immediately sat down and tried playing it.

It took a lot more work on your fingers than playing an electric keyboard, that's for sure, but it had such a rich and real sound that I absolutely loved. I played the song "Viva La Vada" by Coldplay and Andre applauded me.

The second floor was much less interesting. We found a closet full of Beats headphones. BEATS. This school sure had a lot of money…

The third floor was when it got interesting.

At first we just came across our normal classrooms, and we went all the way down a hallway that seemed to get darker as we went. I was about to turn around and head back to the main third floor hallway when Andre tapped my shoulder.

I followed his finger to what, at first glance, just looked like the wall. But upon closer inspection, I realized that there was a door there. It was dark, the same color of the wall itself, and it was one that you could push open but you needed the force of your shoulder to get it open. I know this because that's what it took for Andre to get the mysterious door to swing forward.

I was excited. I had never thought Hollywood Arts to be the type of school with some secret area, but it was.

I felt around on the wall until I found a light switch. I flipped it on.

The room lit up, and it was filled with all sorts of things. An art easel with papers crumpled up around it sat in the corner, a paintbrush and cans of black paint nearby. There were stacks of paper everywhere, and one wall was covered in pictures and newspaper clippings. There was a desk with notebooks and pencils scattered messily on it.

I turned to Andre, who raised his eyebrow.

He picked up a piece of paper, read it, and then picked up another piece.

"They're a bunch of student files. From like, years ago," he said, a very confused look on his face.

Student files? For what? Shouldn't those be in Helen's office? Then again, they're from years ago. And what's up with that anyway?

Andre raised his eyebrow at me again and we walked over to the wall of newspaper clippings.

They were all about students from this school, WAYY way back, and I began to notice a pattern. They were all guys, and they all looked somewhat similar. They all had this weird crook of the nose, spiky black hair. They were all singers who were actually in the paper for how good they were.

I told Andre what I was noticing and he nodded.

I went over to the art easel next, picking up a piece of paper tucked behind the canvas.

"Description:

Spiky black hair

Weird crook of a nose

Edgy, bold voice

Deep gray eyes

Stocky build," I read aloud. The handwriting looked like our old principal's.

I wondered how long this room had been here, and what in the world it was all about.

Andre bent down and picked up a piece of paper on the ground that was crumpled up and undid it. It was a painting, and it fit the description pretty well. There were some obvious mistakes in it, though.

Andre had what I would call a thinking face on, and I waited for him to come up with his "answer" or find a way to divulge his thoughts to me.

I took a moment to observe the room even more. The walls were wood panels, and there were crates stacked up. I went and opened them, finding that they were empty. I noticed that the wood itself looked pretty worn and old, and the single light bulb hanging from the ceiling seemed to new, too bright for this ancient room.

I mean, this place has gotta be at least thirty years old. And that's ANCIENT.

Andre tapped my shoulder, making me jump a little. I sighed when I saw it was just him.

"This place is obviously some sort of…shrine. No that's not it…I think that someone is trying to find someone from the past. Maybe…they know a bit about the person, a description of them, and….and they're trying to find out who it is. A long lost relative? An old family friend?" he suggested, and I considered his thoughts. They made perfect sense to me.

"Okay, so the person-" I began.

Suddenly the door opened, and I shrieked, because this place was creeping me out and every little sound scared me. Yes, yes, I know, I'm being a baby, shut up about it already.

I jumped behind Andre and hid, and he laughed.

"Chillax Jade, it's Helen," he said, and I peeked out from behind him.

Helen raised an eyebrow at us.

"Why are you in this room?" she asked, sounding not angry but simply curious.

"We were just looking around and found it. We're sorry, we didn't mean to pry," I said, coming fully into her view. She nodded.

"So…what is this?" asked Andre, and Helen sighed.

She pulled three crates out and sat on one.

"Take a seat," she said, and we did as she asked us to.

"Has anyone told you about the Ghost of Hollywood Arts?"

I glanced at Andre, and my heartbeat picked up. We shook our heads, obviously confused.

Helen took a breath and began her story.

"Students have, for years, complained of a ghost haunting this school. Your old principal asked for a description from the kids, and over time he eventually got a pretty good idea of what this guy was supposed to look like," Helen began, and I watched her like this was my favorite horror movie. Andre's eyes were fixed on her as if his life depended on it.

"Then, someone said they heard him singing. They explained his voice perfectly, said it was crystal clear," Helen continued.

"So your principal started a shrine. He wanted to find out who this ghost was, and why he was here. He's been searching for every newspaper clipping, every student file he could find that fit the description," explained Helen. "And I've started in on it."

"Have you figured it out yet?" I asked. I'd never been this interested in a story being told verbally by someone before in my life. It always bores me, but this is my kind of thing.

Helen smiled ear to ear excitedly.

"I think I have," she said, going to the easel.

She flipped the canvas around, where a very beautiful, lifelike painting awaited viewing. None of the other paintings we uncrumpled looked as real and…well, correct as this one did.

"It's beautiful," Andre whispered, his artsy side coming out of him momentarily. He shook his head.

"So, have you found a picture that matches?" he then asked.

Helen's smile broke a bit.

"Well, no…but I have a few close ones," she said.

As she showed them to Andre, I drifted off to the newspaper clippings. I searched for that face, that exact face, because I swore I knew it somewhere.

That face. I'd seen it in a picture before, I knew I had.

I closed my eyes and tried to think.

I remembered someone showing it to me. It was a clipping of this man, shaking someone's hand and accepting an award. It was in the shape of a microphone. I recognized the room he was in immediately, and it was the Black Box theater, but from years and years ago.

I tried to see past the newspaper clipping, into who I was with and where I was.

I suddenly remembered. My mother showed it to me. I was only five, but she showed it to me and said "That man is your grandfather. He was the best singer Hollywood Arts ever saw," she told me. then she smiled, and said, "You're going to be the best too one day, Jadey."

I smiled a little, remembering her encouraging words.

"That's my grandfather! My grandfather died during college in a car accident. He went here in the early 1920's and was deemed the best singer in Hollywood Arts. He got an award!" I said, as I searched frantically through the clippings for the exact one my mother showed me.

And I finally found it.

I tore it off the wall as Andre and Helen surrounded me.

Helen read the caption below the picture.

"Alfredo West, shown above, receives Singer of the Century from Hollywood Arts Principal David Wayward," I read. I was smiling from ear to ear.

I looked up at Andre who smiled down in fascination.

"Your grandfather is haunting Hollywood Arts," he said, trying to process it.

Helen seemed mesmerized by this newfound information. Suddenly, a thought came to me.

"But why?" I asked. "When someone stays behind, there's usually a reason."

Suddenly I heard the door creak open, and my heart jumped. I looked up with wide eyes that only got wider as I saw what had caused the door to open.

He looked exactly as he did in the picture. Well, okay, maybe a little bit older since he died in college, not high school. But the longer I stared at him, the more I saw…well, me, in him.

His eyes. I definitely had my grandfather's eyes.

And it was so weird, to see him for the first time. It was weird but it also stirred something up inside me, and it was…it sort of hurt. Because I knew that I'd never get to do the things most kids do with their grandpas, never get to hear his war stories or in his case, his memories of his singing career. And I hurt for him, too. Because he could've been another Elvis Presley, changing music forever, but he never got the chance.

"Oh my god," Helen whispered under her breath, and I turned to Andre, who's eyes were wide. His breathing was fast.

Alfredo looked at the three of us, and he brought his arm up to wave. It left an eerie trail that disappeared moments later.

His eyes focused on me, and I swallowed hard.

"Hello Jadelynn," he said, his voice reverberating deep within my ears. Or at least that's how it felt.

His voice was smooth when he talked, calming.

"H-hi," I said, annoyed that I was stuttering. I hate showing weakness of any kind.

Alfredo walked closer to us, and I had the urge to move away. This was scarier than anything I've ever experienced, but at the same time I wanted to move closer and learn more.

He brought his hand up as though to touch me, and his fingers brushed against my face. I couldn't physically feel it, but I could still…feel it. Does that even make sense?

"You're so beautiful," he said with a smile. "Like your mother."

A smile crept onto my lips.

"Thank you," I whispered, and my voice shook ever so slightly.

"Your mother," he said. "She must be getting older now, hmm?"

This was so creepy and surreal, and it was almost too much to handle. But I forced myself to answer.

"Yeah, she is," I said. I cleared my throat.

"Um, Grandma's doing fine. She's really old now, and – and stuff, but…she's happy. And that's good," I said, blabbing away.

Alfredo – Grandpa? – chuckled.

"That's wonderful. And Jadelynn, you don't need to be nervous," he said, his voice smooth as silk. And as soon as he said that, all tension I felt was diminished.

"S-sir?" asked Andre, and I turned to him.

I turned back and found my grandfather's eyes trained on Andre. A pleasant smile appeared on his face.

"Mr. Harris. You have a gift, son. Be sure to use it well," he said, and Andre smiled. "Now what can I do for you?"

My grandfather was such a nice man. Why was I so cruel all the time? Why couldn't I be so sweet like he was?

"How come you're haunting Hollywood Arts?" asked Andre timidly.

My grandfather sighed. Well, as much as a dead person could sigh.

"I've been wanting to see you, Jadelynn," he told me, glancing back down at me. "I wanted to see you to see how beautiful you were, up close, to congratulate you for how far you've come."

I gulped down that lump rising in my throat.

"The students talk of you all the time. That one young lady, what's her name? Victoria? She says you are going to be the biggest singer Hollywood Arts has ever seen," Alfredo continued.

Tori said that?

"And I agree with her. Jadelynn, you have an amazing gift in singing. Don't ever give up on that," Grandpa told me. Tears welled up in my eyes.

"But you're the best this school's ever seen," I told him. He smiled.

"And you will be the one to change that," he said. "Take care Jadelynn. Tell your mother I love her."

And with that, and just that, he was gone.

I turned slowly to face Helen and Andre. Both of them looked mesmerized, like they were in a trance.

"Did that just happen?" asked Andre, a confused look coming across his face.

I nodded slowly, and I smiled a little.

"In all my years, that is the most unique thing I've ever seen," Helen said, and that seemed to loosen us all up a little. I chuckled and Andre laughed aloud.

Then Andre's face softened.

"I really think he's right though, Jade," he told me. "You're gonna be the best."

I smiled at him. Why is he being so nice to me like this? And why do I never want it to end?

I coughed, trying to ignore the feelings in my heart that threatened to appear on my face.

"I better go home. My mom'll want me for dinner, and – I – yeah. See you," I said, waving at Andre and Helen.

That night, I told my mother of what had happened. She seemed skeptic at first, but the more I told her the more she believed me.

It's still weird to think that my own grandfather haunted Hollywood Arts for years, just to see me. That's just not normal. But then again, Hollywood Arts, isn't the most normal school, is it?

A/N: I don't know if you can call this mystery. If "mushy lovey stuff" was a genre, I think that's where it'd better fit. Nevertheless, I hope Black-Rose Marley likes this and I hope everyone else does too! Will be starting Mockingjay Victorious Style soon. Until then, enjoy! :D