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. Language and very slight sexual-ish reference in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush or other bands vaguely referenced in this chapter. I own no people. OCs are mine. Full credit for the poem "Door of Opportunity" goes to poet Walterrean Salley.

When Emily Greene slid silently through the front door to her home the following morning, she had not been expecting the sight that greeted her. In the formal living room hanging off of the foyer sat mother, father, Alex, Mark and Jacob. Unprepared to face her entire family (especially considering each of her three brothers had already moved out), the chocolate haired teen ceased her steps, hand on the doorknob as she stared.

"Is this some sort of weird intervention?" Emily asked. "Or am I missing something? Oh god. Grammy isn't dead, is she?" Grandma West, 'affectionately' referred to as Grammy, was well into her eighties and was swiftly slipping off the slope of sanity. Having had a serious scare a few years prior, she had been shipped into an old folk's home. It felt like forever since Em and her senile mother's mother had seen each other. And frankly? The sixteen year old was quite okay with that. As much as she loved her Grammy, Grammy was difficult to deal with these days and like Mrs. Greene, she liked her granddaughter to be girlier than she was and had a fascination for arts and crafts.

"Oh, heaven forbid," Mrs. Greene said, quickly crossing herself (though the family had no real religion). "Though, it is interesting that you bring up Grammy…"

Something was going on, something more than just her mother being awkward (which under the dark blue glare Emily set upon her, awkwardness was to be expected). The frustrated teen wanted to know what. So, after stepping fully into the room, she set her hands on her shapely hips, raising both eyebrows, pursing her pink lips. Her stance demanded answers. The continued glare demanded answers from her mom.

"Emily Grace Greene. Do not look at your mother like that. Especially not if you want to go to Los Angeles," her father warned. Immediately, the youngest changed her position, respecting the man that spoke to her (undoubtedly a daddy's girl). Glare shifted into confusion once more. Her arms crossed over her chest instead, generally less intimidating than she had been.

"Hey, Egg," Alex said, pulling up a despised childhood, big brothers teasing her only, nickname spawned by her unfortunate initials. "Since you're going to LA, can I have your car?"

"Why would you even think that A, I would give you my car? And B, calling me Egg? That's more likely to get you a fist to the face than my Accord. And, C, we're all in agreement now that I'm going to LA? Because if I recall, last night, Mom didn't think I was capable of even receiving the internship that's sending me there." There was a bitter stain to Emily's tone, rightfully so. Although a night with the guys had wound her down and lightened her up, the hurt at being underestimated by her own mother, the person who was supposed to be genetically bred to believe in her, that hurt was still there. Judging by the look on her mother's face? She felt guilty, as well as she should.

"Emily," the woman sighed, "Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I should have been a mature adult and not said what I did… I know that I hurt your feelings. So, your father and I, we talked last night and we've decided to let you go to Los Angeles. Although I don't want you to go, your father thinks that this will be a good opportunity for you and that you deserve it. But you can't live without an adult."

"Mrs. Knight'll be in the same tow-" Emily started to say, but a held up hand from her dad silenced her long enough for her mother to continue.

"And my mother, Grammy, according to late night call, she's being kicked out of her retirement home. So, we were thinking that it would be beneficial for the two of you to live together."

"Woah," Emily held up a hand, asking for a moment to absorb the information she had just been given. "Woah. Live with Grammy? I love her but isn't she a little insane? Can't I just check in with Jade and her parents? And Mrs. Knight?" Jade was a cousin very dear to Emily's heart. Although they rarely saw one another, they exchanged frequent texts. Fairly similar in personality, they got along well, though Em was certain she was more normal than her mother's brother's daughter. "And text you every day? And, hold up. Grammy's getting kicked out of her retirement home? How the heck did this happen?" She paused. "What could an eighty something year old woman do to get kicked out? Actually, I don't want to know. Is it even safe for me to live with her?"

"Emily, I understand that this is an emotional time for you," her mother had a bit of bite to her tone, patience wearing thin.

"Maybe she's on her period," Jacob jested, nudging the two brothers seated beside him with his elbows. Alex chuckled along, though Mark merely rolled his eyes. Twenty-four and settled with a serious girlfriend of two years (as well as a job and various responsibilities), Mark was an adult, through and through. And he knew very well that whether a woman was PMSing, on her period or not, one was not to mention it, lest they suffer. Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn. Of course, twenty-one year old Jacob and nineteen year old Alexander were irresponsible and immature. They lived in apartments with friends and with girls they were destined to end things with. They attended college (Jacob at a university on athletic scholarship, Alex attending a community school). They partied. They had yet to learn that teasing a girl about her natural bodily functions and hormones was literally asking for some sort of pain.

"Jacob, I swear to God that I will hit you," Emily warned, lifting one hand for show, fingers curling slowly into a fist.

"Emily," her mother tried to warn, but it was too late. Jacob was already smirking, flipping his messy brown mop of hair out of his eyes.

"Really? I'd like to see you try, Egg," he challenged. And this was one of the big why's that had turned the sixteen year old into the tomboy she was. Years and years of living with older brothers, all who were high in testosterone, who played sports and who wrestled and rough housed with their little sister. The four ignored gender unless it bettered teasing and insults. "Think your little girly self has a chance against me? My physical prowess has me on a full ride in college."

"My little girly self?" Emily repeated, jaw falling at the statement. Her brows lowered and she stared at her brother. He knew what he was getting himself into. Immediately, she was launching herself onto the male. Thus began a fight. The two wrestled, Jacob obviously with the upper hand (half a foot taller and close to seventy pounds heavier), though the girl fared well. Her determination nearly made up for her lesser muscle. Until Alex decided he would join in.

"You ain't never gonna beat a man, Eggy," he drawled in a poor hick accent.

"I don't need to beat any men," the teen shot back, wiggling out of Jacob's hold. "I just need to beat you two losers!"

It became a full on war between the three, wrestling on the couch. On the edge Mark sat, arms crossed over his chest. He refused to be a part of the immaturity that was his little siblings. Though, as an elbow caught him in the chest? Things changed.

"Alright, that's it!" he shouted, immediately getting involved. Mr. and Mrs. Greene watched their children, most of which were supposed to be grown men. Although Mr. Greene had little trouble with it (truth be told, he was almost itching to get in the fight), the Mrs. was quite unhappy with the turn of events. Her children were misbehaving and encouraging her daughter to act so unbecoming. Rising to her feet, the frustrated woman pulled out an ill used move taught to her by friend Jennifer Knight.

"That is enough!" Mrs. Greene shouted, throwing her arms out as she did so. She hardly ever raised her voice. All fighting ceased. Alexander and Mark had each other by the shoulders, frozen in their battle of pushing and throwing weight (though it looked like Mark would have been a clear victor). Jacob had Emily, who was inches away from punching him in the stomach, in a solid headlock. All looked like deer caught in headlights, staring in awe at their mother.

"Alex. Mark. Let go of each other. Jacob, do not let your sister go," the woman stated, crossing her arms over her chest. Emily continued to stare.

"What? Mom! That's so not fair!" the teen complained, trying to cross her arms awkwardly over her own chest. It was a difficult thing to do, still bent over in the headlock.

"Emily Grace," Mrs. Greene frowned, drawing on the influence from both Brooke and Jennifer. Mrs. Diamond had Emily's fear, Mrs. Knight her respect. "If you want to be allowed to take this internship and move to Los Angeles, you are going to hear me out and you are going to follow every condition that your father and I have agreed upon."

Her mother so rarely took her authoritative role that the teen was shocked into obedience. At least, her brothers took that as the reason. Emily had simply decided that this was one of those moments where fake respect would go a long way in landing her what she wanted. And maybe there was an ounce of actual respect tucked away in the excuse because her mother had actually had the balls to keep her daughter held in a headlock.

"Okay," the teen agreed with a nod. "I will sit down, cross my legs like I know you want me to and listen like a good girl. May I please be released from Jacob's arms?" The calm sincerity Emily spoke with stunned the entire family. It was so completely out of character to give in so easily and so nicely. For a few short seconds, Mrs. Greene almost felt a flash of happy pride. Until her daughter had to ruin it. "His pits are rank and if I don't get out, I will throw up on this rug." Despite every tough inch of Emily, she had a weak gag reflex and it did not take a lot of provocation to bring her to puking. Nearly every rare sickness had her retching in a toilet. The moment ruined, Mrs. Greene gave a nod and met her son's eyes. The male released her.

"Thank you!" Emily threw up her arms in gratitude. Expectant stares came her way. "What?" It clicked. "Oh." Fighting a very serious eye roll, the talented little liar threw on a disgustingly convincing smile. With grace, she eased her body onto the couch, posture perfect. Her legs were set slightly to the side, ankles crossed, one hand rested lightly on top the other which perched on her knee. This perfect pose earned another moment of surprised silence.

"Dearest mother, I would be honored if you would please kindly explain the conditions," Emily said, as innocently as could be. With the wide eyed big blues? She almost could have passed. But her family knew better.

Following a deep breath, so began the immense list of rules Emily was to follow, the majority of which she was certain she would break. Who would blame her if she didn't call every day? Texting should be good enough. Who could blame her if she went somewhere alone in LA? Like the bathroom? There. The perfect flaw to her mother's rule. Mrs. Greene certainly wouldn't want her daughter stalked into the stall. So it was only right that Emily broke that one. And the "law" that she was not supposed to date? That one she was pretty sure her father had added. He had been against her dating anyone ever. She did not plan on going six months without a boyfriend. The Minnesota flavor of boys had become quite dull. Weren't those California boys supposed to be hot? Yes. She certainly would not be wasting her man opportunity. She would not be wasting the most of the opportunities her parents were trying to deprive her of. Instead, she was going to take hold of them and go big time! Just like Kendall had said. She just had to lie and pretend that she was going to be a good girl (when had her parents become deluded enough to believe that?).

"Do we have an understanding?" Mrs. Greene asked. It was like that moment at the Knight's when Gustavo had made his offer. Everyone was looking at her, unconsciously leaning in as they awaited.

"Yes, ma'am," Emily responded with a polite smile. It looked awkward on her face, far different from the usual mischievous smile or the crazy grin or the easy happy look. This was professional.

"Alright then," Mr. Greene said, slapping his hands to his knees. An awkward silence. Emily broke it.

"Hey, Jacob. You know, there's this not so new thing called deodorant. Might help with the horrible odor problem." Jacob rose both eyebrows.

"Are you trying to start things again, Egg? Because last time I was beating your ass-"

"Jacob! Language!"

"Sorry, Ma. Last time I was beating your butt. But I can do it again."

"If that fight had gone another few seconds, you wouldn't have looked so good."

"Oh? You really think so?""I know so."

"Let's put that to the test."

A brawl began again. Mark didn't bother fighting with himself this time. All four Greene children threw themselves into it, going at each other, wrestling on the couch, wrestling until they fell off of the couch.

"You all better stop if you want breakfast," Mr. Greene drawled lackadaisically. Despite the bored, average volume at which he spoke, what he had said was the magic word. Immediately, everything stopped and the four looked up at the man.

"Breakfast?" they asked all together. At the nod given in reply, there was immediate clambering and climbing over each other in a mad dash to the breakfast table. Dad made amazing pancakes. The meal went smoother than the rest of the morning. During the time all six were seated at the table, Emily made a few inquiries, wondering why her parents couldn't move with her instead, why Grammy couldn't live elsewhere, why her three brothers had been called over. As it turned out, Mr. Greene was up for a promotion too delicious to pass up for something that may or may not pan out (and, if it did, was temporary anyway). Mrs. Greene couldn't last six months without her husband. Grammy couldn't live elsewhere because her son was a dick (something Emily had always known about her uncle) and although he lived in LA near her, he refused to take her in. Additionally, with some sort of condition the old woman had, flying was advised against, taking away the possibility of her moving to Minnesota. As for her brothers, Mr. and Mrs. Greene had decided to get the entire family together for a few days before six months of separation. That and Alex desperately wanted to try and convince her to give him her car which she supposedly wouldn't need in Los Angeles, to which Emily vehemently protested. She had been saving birthday, Christmas and odd job money for years (well aware that with three brothers ahead of her, she would need to pay for a lot of her own college education). And that money could easily be used to ship her car from Minnesota to Los Angeles. In the end, it was decided that although the car would not be shipped, Alex would not be given ownership. He would be given use, however. Though that arrangement did not satisfy Emily, the arrangement allowing her to go to Los Angeles was satisfactory enough.

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"Does anyone else find it incredibly odd that not only am I on the exact same flight as you guys, but that my seat is immediately next to Kendall's?" Emily Greene asked, buckling herself into her middle airplane seat.

The remainder of the week had passed in a flash. The teen had spent time with her brothers, her dad, her mother (who had helped with packing against the young Greene's will- there were too many girly things stuffed in the suitcases now). She had broken it to her hockey team that she was leaving them during the season. Most of them viewed it as abandonment and were pretty angry, certain that the absence of their second most aggressive player would be a huge detriment. Honestly, Emily worried. Leaving them was the thing she felt guiltiest about. A select few girls, however, eased that guilt, wishing her the best with fewer ill feelings than the rest. Pulled from the advanced dance courses she attended, her teachers lamented. Other students were quite happy to see her go. The gruff girl had never quite fit into the slim, anorexic and graceful picture perfect image of a dancer, thin, but muscled and (something that really irked a few of the flat girls) bore a fair set of breasts. And although Emily had the ability of grace, she didn't carry it constantly, preferring to walk around like a hockey playing guy. The four who influenced that? She hadn't seen much of them the past week as they all dealt with their own parents and their own goodbyes. But a week had come and gone and they all found themselves on an airplane to Los Angeles, aboard the same flight in seats grouped together. As Emily had pointed out, her seat was next to Kendall's.

"Not really," Carlos shrugged from the other side of the aisle, on the outside seat. Of course the Latino would not find anything odd in that. He took every cool happening like this at face value, rarely looking deep.

"I don't care because not only do I have the window seat, but I'm gonna be famous!" James cheered, singing a little bit.

"Oh come on! What are the chances of this?" Emily asked, loudly enough to earn a glare from the stern businessman on her left.

"I'm just glad that you're coming with us, Emily," Kendall said, giving her a smile. "Now I get to go to LA with all my best buds."

"Yes. Lovely, Kendall, but Logan, come on. You're the brain, the smart. Be my voice of reason. This is a really weird coincidence, right?" the girl persisted.

"I will admit that the likelihood of this is low," the flattered smart boy conceded, finally giving her an answer she wanted. "Whoever ordered your tickets and our tickets must have done it pretty close together."

"Thank you," Em said pointedly. "This is a weird coincidence!"

"It's a great coincidence and we should just take it as it is and be content." Kendall would be in a good mood. His plan had worked (like many of them did). Was that a hint of smugness on his lips? If it was, the tomboy was pretty sure he deserved it. However, that did not prevent the teen from scoffing.

"Hey Emily!" Carlos suddenly called. The teen turned in her seat to see the Latino. And he was making a face at her, thumbs hanging off of his temples, fingers wiggling as he stuck his tongue out, as he went "nyeh-nyeh!"

"Garcia! Are you making fun of me?" Emily practically shouted, earning yet another glare from Mr. Suit beside her (which for the moment, she was ignoring). The helmet headed boy's response was another "nyeh!" With a bit of a growl, the brunette practically leaped forward, only to be stopped by belt tightening around her gut.

"Oof!" she groaned and the boys seated near her couldn't help but laugh. Kendall, being the closest, received a sharp, but weak kick to the shin. "Just because you're across the aisle doesn't mean I can't get you, Garcia," she warned, turning in her seat properly now. Throwing up the arm rest separating her and the blond, Em leaned forward across Kendall's lap, body brushing against his legs as she reached as best as she could. The Latino tried to lean away, but Logan wasn't about to help to A, be crushed and B, stand in the way of something Emily was trying to do. So her fist collided with the boy's leg, weaker than he was used to.

"Ha-ha!" Carlos taunted (stupidly; it was no surprise that he and Emily physically got into it fairly often). That taunting quit when a small, but stern hand smacked him in the face from an awkward angle. "Ouch! Katie! What the heck was that for?" he pouted, turning to look at the offender who sat behind him.

"I was paid ten bucks to hit you on cue," the doe eyed girl said with a shrug, then returned to her DS.

"Emily Greene," Mrs. Knight spoke up, a disapproving stare set upon the teen. "Do not pay my daughter to be violent."

"Yes, Mama Knight. Won't happen again. I promise," Em agreed. It was hard to not listen to what Mrs. K said. That woman deserved respect. She went through a lot with her husband. Despite his absence, she reared her children and did a damn good job of it. Kendall and Katie were amazing people, smart and strong, just like their mother who had worked her butt off as a waitress to take care of everything. And, on top of that, she had definite authority, but was fair. When it came to Emily, she didn't judge. In fact, the teen had gone to the older woman a few times for advice, or simply to discuss a some things she did not feel comfortable talking to her own mother about. Needless to say, Em tended to obey when Mrs. Knight said something.

Deciding that her legs were longer and a better weapon, Emily shifted in her seat again, ignoring the way the belt dug into her hip enough to leave a mark. She swung her legs onto Kendall's lap. Carlos was glaring at her, still pouting, too. He should have known better. Although the plane was getting ready to move, she aimed a kick. A falsely perky flight attendant approached. It was clear that, like a few uptight women, she did not approve of the sixteen year old girl. Said sixteen year old girl did not care (maybe she did a little…). The lady could suck her imaginary male parts (something that would have absolutely made her mother die if she even heard her daughter thinking).

"Excuse me," the suited woman said, that false cheer ever present. It was kind of annoying. Reminded Emily of when Gustavo had had a weird tone and she'd wanted to punch him. Yeah. This was the same feeling. "Please keep your hands and feet to yourself or you may need to be removed from the flight. I am certain that none of us desires that."

Emily raised an eyebrow. Really? I'm pretty certain that by the look on your face that you desire I be removed from the flight. "I will try to behave." The man next to her scoffed and the brunette twisted her torso awkwardly to glare. After he was silent again, the teen turned back to the flight attendant and removed her legs from Kendall's lap (who was currently trying not to laugh). Politely, Em smiled up at the attendant, fluttering her eyes with more fake innocence. True to her job, the attendant simply smiled back before turning away. To be honest, Emily was the slightest embarrassed. She was not usually as argumentative and temperamental in public (unless something really set her off). To be called out before the flight even started because of poor behavior? She felt like she had failed Mrs. Knight. The woman might not have been the one who was acting as official guardian in LA for her, she would be the teen's guardian in so many ways. And so Em offered an apologetic look. Mama K smiled softly. It was okay. She wasn't in trouble. Before any more embarrassing moments could break into the ride so quickly, the pilot's voice took over the audio waves. Once that was complete, they began their descent. Heights was no fear of Emily's.

"So, Em, what is this intern thing?" Kendall asked. She had been vague on the details, too ticked when they had all stayed the night to explain and following that, there hadn't been time.

"It is an exclusive, competitive internship awarded by RCM CBT Globalnet Sanyoid," she simply said.

"Is that that technology company?" Logan asked.

"Yup," Emily popped the p.

"But aren't you, like, really bad with that stuff?" Carlos asked, completely over the miniscule fight the two had gone through moments prior. Neither of them ever took it or meant it personally.

"Yeah! Like that time you broke my iPod!" James complained. Em groaned in frustration.

"I told you that I was sorry about that. I still don't know what the frick happened. All I did was touch it and it went black. Forever dead. I feel like an even worse version of King Midas when it comes to technology… Why are you complaining anyway? Your mom bought you the newest model!"

"Oh yeah. I forgot about that," the pretty boy said with a smile. As if to make some point, a point no one knew quite what it was, he pulled out his pretty music player. "But I still had to put my music on it again!"

"I did that for you, genius," Logan rolled his eyes.

"Anyway," Kendall said, trying to return to the question at hand. "Why would a technology company want a technology killer?"

"Shut it, Knight," Emily glared. "RCM CBT Globalnet Sanyoid isn't just a tech company. It's a massive corporation that parents so many companies, I have to wonder if it's legal. They own a Styrofoam cup company, fish sticks-" Carlos interjected a "yum" here "-uh… video games. A lot of tech stuff. A missile defense thing. And this music company. There's more, too, but I didn't read them all."

"So, what do you get from this?" Logan asked curiously. "Is there a scholarship guaranteed?"

Emily shook her head regretfully. "Not guaranteed. But! If I last a minimum of six months, I get recognition for my work on my transcript. I assume I'll be able to get a killer letter of rec. And if I do extremely well, then I can be awarded a scholarship. Amount of money wasn't specified, but a few past receivers got a lot. There was this one guy four years ago that interned for two years and ended up with enough money to get through all four years of college."

"Why didn't I hear about this internship?" Logan inquired. The smart boy, like the girl, avidly looked into opportunities to earn cash for college. Although his mother's profession had earned a lot of money, with the not quite stable real estate market, Logan couldn't expect that that effort, combined with his father's take home, would be enough. Besides, he didn't want his parents to pay all of his years of after high school schooling, especially considering that med school was extremely expensive. His best bet, like Emily's, was to try and apply for free money (or internships).

"Because you usually look into sciency, doctory scholarships and internships. I don't. Besides, I'm not stupid, Logan. You're smarter than I am. I didn't tell you because I wanted it and I didn't need even more competition," the girl reasoned.

"Smart," the brain agreed, probably flattered again by the open recognition.

"So how'd you even get this thing?" Kendall asked. Emily let out something that may have been a groan or a sigh.

"It took three months. First you had to send in a general application. The usual stuff. Fill out these forms and send us a transcript. But the forms were pretty extensive. Took me days to fill out. After you send those in, a few weeks passed before more instructions were given. Essay. Spent weeks on that. After that was sent in, there was a few more weeks before there was an over the phone interview. Two weeks after that, an actual interview. The day after? I was called with the 'congratulations'. Got the internship."

"I thought your grades were bad this year?" Kendall questioned, recalling complaints.

"Bad for me. In math. Do you guys think I'm stupid or something?"

"You're in the same class as me," James pointed out. "And Carlos."

"I'm bad at math," Emily frowned. "And science. Other than that, I'm kind of smart. You guys just don't realize it because Logan's like a genius. We all have our roles in this group. Kendall Knight, fearless leader. James Diamond, the Face. Logan Mitchell, the brain. Carlos Garcia, the insane daredevil that everyone loves anyway. And me, Emily Greene, the girl." There was a moment of silence.

"We don't think of you as the girl," Kendall said, raising an eyebrow with an amused smirk.

"You're like… the tough, angry one," Carlos nodded.

"Who fights a lot," James added.

"But is still good," Logan amended, pacifying as usual.

"I don't know whether to be offended or flattered," Em said, drawing her eyebrows briefly together. It was nice to not be defined by her gender, but it was unpleasant to be defined as the angry, tough violent one. There was more to her than that. Shrugging, she brushed it away. "Regardless, I am, too, smart! Logan and I are in the same AP Language and APUSH classes. And I'm taking AP Psych this year. And I have A's in everything except for math with you guys and physics." There was a silence.

"Since when did you get smart?" Carlos asked.

There was that businessman scoffing again, glaring at the teen in the seat beside him. Emily was just about done with this guy's attitude. With a short scowl, she shifted in her seat to give him her attention.

"Excuse me. Is something wrong, sir?" she asked, that unnatural, polite smile forced to her lips again. The man was quiet for a moment, choosing to ignore Emily. As soon as she was turning away, he returned his attention to the girl and uttered "stupid teenagers" beneath his breath. Instantly, Em had turned back to him.

"Look, Mr. Business-Man, clearly something is wrong. And I think that if you think you're going to continue glaring at me, listening to my conversations and scoffing at them, you need to tell me your problem."

The man flustered, unprepared for the call out. For a moment, he stared, blinking wildly, mouth opening and closing. Eventually, he rose above the pressure and spoke. "You and your friends are extremely obnoxious!" he nearly shouted.

"And your face is obnoxious, but I refrained from commenting," Emily shot back, completely calm. After her earlier trouble, she was going to keep it relaxed, or as relaxed as she could be when dealing with yet another adult who disapproved of her behavior. "Look, Mr. Suit," she switched to another nickname, "I'm not an unreasonable girl. If you wanted me to be quieter, all you had to do was ask nicely. You know, as a business man, you should know how important words are. Words like please. Please goes a long way. A lot longer than glaring and scoffing and under the breath muttering. How about we try again? You ask nicely and my friends and I will try to keep our voices down. And you stop staring."

The man was currently doing just that, staring. And it was completely awkward. Eventually, the still quite red in the face suit cleared his throat and coughed, in the abnormal order. "Excuse me, Miss, can you and your friends please be quieter?"

"I don't know. Can we?" Emily asked with an amused smirk. The man blinked more than normal again, as if the fluttering of his eyelids would help clarify. After an embarrassingly long silence, he finally caught on.

"Will you and your friends please be quieter?" It was good enough for the brunette and she nodded.

"Yes we will, since you asked so nicely. Now, you're still kind of staring at me. So, how about you take advantage of your window seat and stare out of it? Or, hey! You know what? Dude, we should become friends. My name's Emily. Nice to meet you!" she stuck her hand out at him. There was that fast blinking again. It was kind of annoying. Was it bad that she wanted to physically stop him? Hold those eyelids open so he couldn't continue? As if reading her mind, he paled and faked a smile.

"I think I'll look at those clouds, now," he said and quickly turned away.

"That sounds like fun, Rick. I like your choice." She couldn't help but smirk at the tension that rose in his shoulders upon her statement of his name. Poor guy probably didn't realize that it was stickered to the bag beneath his feet. Oh well. He deserved it for being so rude. And for being so disapproving of Emily. She may not have been the perfect person, but no one was. Just because she had a few slip ups here and there and was unashamed (largely) of her obvious flaws didn't mean that she was a terrible person. Or maybe it did. Em would be the first to acknowledge herself as being horrible. But she still had feelings and pride. Messing with either was never a good idea.

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"Does anyone else find it incredibly, completely odd and really hard to claim coincidental that the guy who has a sign for all of you guys is holding a sign with my name on it, too?" Emily asked, pointing at the obvious driver with a fair sized white sign in each hand. One listed the names of her four best friends. The second sign held simply her name. Though, she daren't raise her hopes yet.

"Maybe it's a cab or something," Kendall suggested.

"Maybe our places of occupation are near each other?" Logan added.

"Or maybe we're going to live near each other?" Emily brought up herself. Either of the latter two would make her incredibly happy. Luggage in hand, the teen took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Yes. The Emily Greene was nervous, a feeling she hated and a feeling she felt only on rare occasions, such as facing Mrs. Diamond, during interviews and when there was a spider (though that was more terror than nervousness). This was the start of a life change. Even if the internship wasn't successful, it was different now. Not that it mattered because Emily was certain she would be successful.

As they reached the man, he glanced at her. "Emily Greene?" he presumed. "Yessir!" the teen nodded and a thick, one inch packet of paper between the folds of a manila envelope was offered her. A frown overtook her face. More reading. Lovely. As much as she loved reading, this was ridiculous.

"Kendall, Carlos, James, Logan? Jennifer Knight?" Each responded respectively (Katie seemed a little annoyed her name wasn't listed). The driver began to lead them to their ride, whatever it was. As she stomped along, awkwardly hooking her suitcases to her so that she may properly hold the folder, Emily began to read. It was about halfway through the page when she realized the name of the company adorning the top of the page.

"Oh my god!" Her cry was drowned out by the matching cries of her four best friends, their excitement a little more jovial than her own. Emily was currently teeming with wild energy. Was she right? Did it mean as she thought? Was chance that amazing? As one of the guys went to high five her, she shook her head.

"Oh my god, you guys," she said, and all grinning ignorantly, they agreed.

"I know! A limo!" James cheered.

"No."

"No? But it looks like a limo." Carlos was quite confused.

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure this is a limo," James argued.

"No! I mean, yes, it's a limo, but that's not what I'm 'oh my god'ing about. Look at this! Read it and tell me if it says what I think it says. Please." With something as major as this, she couldn't just believe what her own eyes interpreted. Maybe she was projecting her subconscious desires onto the paper. The brain was a powerful thing. It could easily be lying to her. Shoving the packet to Kendall, the other three boys crowded around her.

"What are we supposed to be looking at?" the blond asked. Emily rose up to her tip toes and leaned over to glance at the sheets. Her finger traced the name lining the top. There was silence as she eased back onto her feet.

"Does that say Rocque Records?" Kendall asked incredulously.

"As in Gustavo Rocque?" Logan continued, in as much disbelief as two other two who understood.

"So that is what it says?" Emily prompted, blue eyes open wide. Was she really going to be working for Gustavo? The same man that her four best friends were working for? Had something gone so wonderfully right that she would be able to be with Kendall, James, Carlos and Logan as often as always?

"Wait, so, that means you work for Gustavo?" Carlos asked. Still completely blown away by the idea that was actually real, Emily stared at Kendall for confirmation, breath moving too quickly through her nose.

"Looks like it. The Emily Greene is going to intern for the Gustavo Rocque," Kendall stated, eyes meeting Em's. He smiled. That was when she finally allowed herself to feel it, to believe it. Kendall wouldn't lie to her, wouldn't make something like this up. Her own senses weren't tricking her. This was real. Elation surged through her and a carefree laugh bubbled past her happy lips.

"This is perfect!" she exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace her four friends. The teen was practically bouncing with excitement. Every negative feeling she'd felt in the past week was erased. This beat getting the internship by miles.

With as much fervor, the hug was returned. Everyone was all smiles, including the other two Knights standing off to the side. Even the limo driver had something tugging the corners of his lips upward. Unfortunately, there was a schedule to keep and the man cleared his throat. Parting from her friends, Em shrugged with a spoken "sorry?" really too happy to be bothered at the moment. The five hockey heads threw their luggage into the surprisingly spacious trunk.

"Let's get in the limooo!" James's voice rose quite happily. He was the first to dive into the stretch car, following closely by Carlos (who had failed at his mission to be first). Polite, Kendall, Logan and Emily waved Mrs. Knight and Katie in next.

"Ladies first," Kendall offered the brunette girl who rolled her eyes.

"So Logan goes next?" she teased. Said smart boy glared.

"Hey!"

"Just kidding, Loges. Genetically, you're more of a man than I could ever be," Emily continued to wisecrack, though the never ending grin radiated nothing but good feelings for all. The thick packet Kendall handed her as she climbed into the car becoming forgotten at the excitement. The leader and the brain climbed in. The door shut. This was it. They were in a limousine. In Los Angeles. In California. In Hollywood!

"This is it, baby!" James cheered. Although Emily was in one of the best moods of her life, the pretty boy had to be in pure euphoria because this was his dream. "When you're famous, you can take a limo anywhere and everywhere!"

The ride was simply amazing. Four boys crammed in the back seat row, Emily unsafely taking perch on the laps of her friends, shifting whenever it was convenient. They were in a limo! Who needed seat belts? On the side, Katie and Mrs. Knight contented themselves in very much the same way the five teens did: sight seeing. They passed a beach, Bel Air, Beverly Hills, Rodeo Drive, awesome cars. They drove passed the Pantages, a beautiful theater, passed stars of the stars on the sidewalk. They danced in their seats, peered out of the moon roof. They leaned out of the windows as they drove (Carlos being yanked back in by Emily the moment he tried- they didn't need another plate in his head). They also screwed around with seat belts and took a plethora of pictures. Eventually, they came to a stop at the Palm Woods, Kelly standing, waiting to greet them. After grabbing the luggage, so officially began their time in Hollywood.

"Welcome to the Palm Woods, home of the future famous," the pretty woman stated. When Mrs. Knight suddenly stopped her steps, so did the rest. Her hand stretched out and she placed it flat against the base of a tree.

"That's the first palm tree I've ever touched," she sounded positively dreaming.

"Every year, kids and parents from all over the world come here looking for fame in TV, movies and music," Kelly continued.

"Oh hey!" Kendall pointed with a smile. "There's that funny kid from the juice box commercials."

As the kid was dragged by, yelling at his mother, the smiles fell slightly. "What a punk," Emily murmured, rolling her eyes.

"Okay! You guys are gonna love it here. The rooms are clean. You're close to the studio and there is an amazing pool." That was all Kelly needed to say for the teens to literally drop everything and race out to see the blue beauty. Minnesota had a lack of swimming places with all of the snow that came during winters. But this California winter was as sunny as summer. And the entire pool area was amazing. Everyone looked so chill. The five rested back on lined up pool chairs, Emily and Logan sharing (being the thinnest two).

"We are so not in Minnesota anymore," James said, voice slow and soothing.

"Uh, Minne who now?" Logan replied, earning a few chuckles.

"What can I say?" Kendall asked, sitting up to look at his friends. "You guys were right."

A sudden hand took his arm. And as he turned to look? A hand struck him across the face.

"How dare you!" this new girl shouted, wearing a very distracting outfit that Emily absolutely loved. Anything sparkly, glittery or shiny was a very secret love of hers. It was likely the dress that saved this girl from getting an immediate beat down for slapping her best friend. "What we had was real! But you threw it all away for Trish! Trish! My sworn enemy! I never want to see you again, Troy!" And that was another reason Em didn't jump up to tackle the purple dress wearing crazy girl. There was obviously a mix up. Or the girl really was insane. That seemed fairly plausible. "Never!" And she ran away, crying with awkward shrieks. Confusion wrote itself across the five faces as they watched her make an exit.

"What just happened?" Kendall asked.

"You new guys just met Camille," a young voice sounded from somewhere unidentifiably near. "The Palm Woods method actress queen."

"What the heck?" Emily muttered, the shifting and staring not finding them any answers. Until Kendall hesitantly lifted the lid of the trash can.

"The name's Tyler," a little red headed boy appeared. He reminded the tomboy of a younger, chubbier version of Alex. "You may have seen me acting on various juice box commercials. Only I don't want to be an actor, I want to be a kid." Kendall had a stupid grin on his face, as if to say 'I'm talking to a kid that was on a commercial'. It was a little endearing.

"Tyler!" a woman's voice sang.

"Oh! Hide me!" the little ginger dived back into the trash can and just in time, Kendall hid him from the eccentric, large woman running up.

"Have you seen my son?" she panted, pausing to ask the quintet. "Red hair. Adorable. Born to be a star! We've got an audition!" Her voice went so shrill and so high that Emily grimaced.

"He went that way," the five agreed simultaneously, pointing in the same direction. By now, the utter synchronization that was common with her friends had lost its wonder in Em. But she still loved it. The woman raced away.

"She's gone." More complete togetherness. The kid reappeared.

"Thanks."

"So," Logan asked, "Is everyone here an actor?"

Emily wanted to point out the obvious flaw in the boy's question. He was supposed to be the smart one. Of course not everyone was an actor. The boys weren't actors and they were moving in. And Emily wasn't an actress, but it sounded like she was taking up residence at the Palm Woods as well. But the mood was still too good for her to bother.

"No," the kid said, and maybe Em allowed herself a smug smirk. "There's Guitar Dude. He's a 'song writer'."

"What's up?" the long haired male greeted. He was fairly attractive and definitely different than what Emily had seen in Minnesota. Maybe he was potential boyfriend material (not that she was avidly searching, but looking was always okay). As Guitar Dude stood up as if inspired, strummed a few chords and sang the lame verse of "what's up? What's up? What's up?" the tomboy changed her mind. That much simplicity? Probably not boyfriend material…

Now there was barking and Emily's attention was drawn to a shaggy dog. Was it wearing sunglasses? That was new.

"Oh, that's Lightning, the TV wonder dog," Tyler announced. Lightning lifted his paw and waved in an all too human manner.

"Did that dog just…?" Emily did not bother finishing her question. It was obvious enough.

"He's good," Kendall agreed, as well as Carlos with his nod and awed smile.

"Oh, and then there's the Jennifers. Three girls of the same name who sing, dance and act." The girls strolled through the open double doors, three of them. A blond and two brunettes, one with curly ringlets. Each wore a dress and seemed to glide. Emily couldn't help but think as Tyler worked a fan that blew their hair back in a model-esque manner, that these girls were a type her mother would like. At the realization, she decided that she didn't like these Jennifers. She didn't like them at all. She especially didn't like the way the girls managed to drop the jaws of her four idiot best friends. It was as if they hadn't seen an attractive girl before in their lives! And in Emily's opinion, the girls weren't that attractive. The blond in the center had an annoying face. The mocha girl on the left had a dress that was horribly short. The tan girl to the right looked more smug than the rest.

"Hey!" James called them to attention. The three turned back to the five, expressions blank. "We're in a band." Emily bit back a snort of laughter. What kind of line was that?

"Really?" the Jennifers suddenly seemed so excited. "Oh my gosh!" There was no way that it was genuine. As if Emily's thoughts directed the world, the façade was dropped.

"And we're actresses who don't care," said the one on the right. The boys' spirits drooped, all but Carlos who had a hard time taking a hint.

"Want to go to the movies tonight?" he asked, a broad, innocent smile adorning his lips.

"Are you guys starring in the movie?" shot back the one in the middle.

"No." Carlos still wasn't getting it.

"Then no," came from the Jennifer on the left before the right one began speaking again.

"If that seems harsh? That's because it is. Just like this town."

Emily hated these girls. They were definitely stuck up dogs of the female variety. Em didn't care if the town was harsh. She didn't care that she was harsh. These Jennifers were being harsh to the wrong people. Immediately, she was on her feet, stepping before the three girls, crossing her arms threateningly over her chest. But apparently, the glare wasn't intimidating, not when given by someone wearing a pair of rolled up gray sweat pants and a white graphic tee.

"How about you shut up and go?" Emily threatened. The three merely scoffed, giggled and put their sunglasses back on, making an exit with a "later!" The tomboy felt very much like the businessman that she harassed on the flight. Flustered and blinking more than usual. "Did they just laugh at me?" she asked, beyond incredulous. No one ever laughed at a Greene threat. You just didn't do it. Had she already lost her touch after a few minutes in LA?

"I'm so in love," Carlos sighed, sliding down on the seat.

"Okay, reality check," Kendall swung himself in his seat to stare at his friends. Wanting to hear whatever it was the blond had to say, Emily shoved Carlos's feet off of his seat to set herself on the edge. "We have to promise ourselves now. That we're not going to let this singing thing or this town change us. We are five hockey players from Minnesota and we can never forget that. Do we all agree?"

"Yes," the other four said, Emily adding a "sir" to the end. Kendall rose an eyebrow.

"More fake respect to get what you want?" he asked with a hint of confusion.

"Nah," Em responded with a smile. "Real respect." That earned her a grin as the boy settled back down in his seat.

Ten minutes later, she almost considered taking that statement back. After a few more minutes of sitting, she recalled instructions to read her entire packet upon receiving. Having already failed her first task as intern, the teen decided to pull herself away from relaxing to gather her things. When she returned with the packet, she found her four best friends in different outfits, floating on things in pools, drinking some drink. So much for not changing. Good job, guys.

"Once you've sipped from a real coconut, there's no going back," Kendall said.

"So true," the other three agreed again.

Emily was pretty sure that her eye was twitching.

"If you four don't get up and out right now, I might just have to do some hurti-iiing," she trailed off, catching sight of a very attractive male. He looked like boyfriend material. Very delicious and shirtless.

"Really, Em? That guy?" Kendall asked, suddenly behind the tomboy. Apparently, the four had heard the warning and got out of the pool. "You can do better than that."

"Yeah," James agreed. "He doesn't have anything like The Face."

"Diamond, Knight, shut it. You were just fawning over those stupid Jennifers a few minutes ago. Like that's any better?"

"At least we didn't just stare," Kendall argued.

"Oh? And what you did was better?" she shot back.

"We are going to show you how's it done."

"Go right ahead, Knight," Em accepted the challenge, gesturing to the girls seated with smoothies and scripts. With a nod, the four boys took a few steps closer to the dogs of a female variety. And then they stopped.

"Okay," Kendall said, about to start what Emily assumed was his usual speech. "We do realize there are three of them and four of us."

"And they blew us off," Logan pointed out. The tough girl listened in amusement. There was the smart boy being smart again while the rest were stupid and about to have a fail attempt. Maybe when they were done, she would show them how getting a date really worked. Despite her lack of femininity and her abundance of what many described as too much testosterone (which really was extremely inaccurate), Emily had never had too much trouble with guys. A girl on her team had said it was the confidence. Another one had said it was her looks. Either way, things worked for her.

"No. They said later," James said, which cued Carlos to come in with, "And it's later."

"Okay!" Kelly returned. "Mom's all checked in. Emily, you're checked in but your stuff is with Mom. Kendall, your sister complained again about not having any friends so your mom let her watch Shark Cage on Fox and…," she slowed her speech, the boys having turned away to stare at the Jennifers again. They were being incredibly rude, something which Emily nearly slapped them on the back of the head for. "Now it's time to start Gustavo's boy band boot camp."

"Kelly, we're a little busy here," Kendall said. Em took a step forward, about to put her slapping plan in action, but the talent scout was quick with a quip. "So am I and they won't go for you until you're famous. So let's roll."

James chuckled, almost condescending. If he wasn't the face? Emily probably would have hurt it. "Oh, Kelly, Kelly. Clearly you don't understand the power of the-" He wiggled his fingers around his face, ironically enough. Kendall pointed for emphasis. Kelly merely quieted herself, taking a stance very much the same as Emily. The two females would simply have to watch the crash and burn of four overly cocky boys.

"Ladies," James said smoothly as they reached the Jennifers. "I don't think we properly introduced-" Three pink smoothies were thrown in their faces. From her spot next to Kelly, Emily burst into laughter. That was so deserved and so perfect. "Ourselves," James lamely finished.

"Okay," Kendall said. "Let's go to boot camp."

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As the group of six entered the large building, a group of three exited, though none paid attention to it. The posters on the walls, the furniture, the well designed walls and colored glass. That had their attention. As did the 'tour guide'.

"Welcome to Rocque Records," Kelly smiled. "Where you are gonna sing, dance and sweat your butts off. If you wanna end up on these walls."

That all sounded fine and dandy to Emily, but literally, none of that applied to her. She was an intern. That was all. Though, seeing a rather hideous Boyquake poster, it made her glad for a few seconds.

"Do we want to end up on these walls?" Kendall asked. James's response was immediate.

"Yes."

"Guys," Kelly spoke again, "Say hello to Nicole Scherzinger from the Pussycat Dolls."

Unimpressed, Emily turned to her while the boys double taked. Internship had started. Cordial and polite was an immediate must.

"Hey guys. What's up?" the Pussycat Doll leader laughed.

"Miss Scherzinger," Em smiled politely and offered a greeting hand. "It is an honor to meet you. You have quite the talent."

"Thanks," the slim woman replied, shaking the teen's hand briefly while the boys did their in awe staring.

"He's gonna marry you!" Carlos suddenly threw out, pointing to James.

"Where's my ring?" the music star asked, playing along. James merely stared, wide eyed, repeating that same unintelligible syllables over and over again. Emily had to admit it. It was funny to see James Diamond at a loss for words with the ladies. She would have let the pretty boy suffer awhile longer, but Kendall, being a good friend and normal person, spoke up.

"We're recording some demos with Gustavo."

"Gustavo," Nicole repeated, attitude different.

"Yeah. Have you worked with him?" Kendall asked. The four boys had clearly not picked up on the change.

"Yes, actually, on my first album. Let's just say that we had some… creative differences."

"Nicole. Baby!" Gustavo's generally loud voice suddenly appeared along with the man as he tried to step out of his office. The Pussycat Doll swung around and grabbed the nearest object, chucking it violently at the man. The door saved his face. Emily had to give the woman props. And she had to bite back an unprofessional giggle.

"Good luck, guys," Nicole said with a strained smile before stalking out of the building, the boys looking after her like lovesick puppies, Carlos going as far as to say her name after her.

"All clear," Kelly announced as Gustavo edged his way out of the office once more.

"Okay," the big man cleared his throat. "You guys ready to be stars?"

"Yeah," the four boys stated.

"Good! Then prove to me- …who are you?" the music producer took notice of the teenage girl standing beside the boys.

"My name is Emily Greene, sir. It is a pleasure to formally meet you, Mr. Rocque. I am your new intern," she said with more professional politeness. With the lying skill, it seemed genuine enough. The big man stared at her for a moment, then glanced between her and Kendall, drawing some familiarity.

"Were you in Minnesota with these four?" he questioned.

"Yes, sir," Emily answered.

"Are you that crazy girl that ripped out a chunk of hair from one of the security guards?" Gustavo asked.

She was a little more hesitant to respond this time. "Yes."

"Then, you're fired!" There was a heavy silence after the words had hit the air.

"Excuse me?" Oh. There was Emily's pissed off tone. The four boys took a step back and away from their friend. "No. No no no. Do you know how long I worked to get this friggin' internship? I spent three months on it! Three months! And I am committed to six months working here, being your intern! If I can suck it up and work for you for six months, you can suck it up and take advantage of my free labor for six months. You are not firing me."

More silence. Gustavo had not been expecting a response like that, one that pointed out the so obvious reason he had ever agreed to have some annoying teenager follow him around in the first place. Free labor. Kelly placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Gustavo, give her a chance."

"Fine! You have three days to prove to me that I should keep you. And you," he returned his attention to his latest project, "We have three days. Three days to prove to the record company that there is something, anything, here."

"Three days?" Kendall asked. "What happened to three months?"

"Uh, the CEO of all of our butts wants to see you guys on Friday."

"We have to be a band in three days?" The disbelief was written on Logan's face.

"No. You have to be a great band in three days! Unless you don't think you can do it, Mr. Make Us a Pop Group."

"We can do it. No problem. Bring it," Kendall challenged, stepping forward. Emily believed him. If there was any four people in the world that could do this, it was her four best friends. Despite all of their faults, they could do it. She knew they could.

"Oh I will bring it. I'll bring everything I got," Gustavo countered, stepping closer to the blond.

"This is a little too close for me," Kendall stated.

"Yeah, me too."

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A few minutes later, the large group found themselves standing in another room, the boys of the band dressed in army patterned cargos and army green tops. Gustavo, for some reason that Emily suspected she did not want to know, had an outfit that completed the idea that this was boot camp and that he was boss. For the most part, the still normally clothed teenage girl felt awkward. Thus far, she simply followed in silence, reading her packet as she went.

"To be a great pop group, you need four things: great dancing, a great look, a great song and great singing," Gustavo instructed. Kelly blew an airhorn. Three of the four things Emily had faith in. The four boys were each attractive, some more than others, but all were good looking. A great song was something that Gustavo was in charge of and great singing was clearly within their realm of capability. Great dancing? That was another story. None of them were really good and that time Mrs. Diamond had forced them into ballet as a group (despite the fact that Emily was leagues ahead of the level she put them in)? The class had been a disaster. Fun, but a disaster.

As groups of people entered, each with their own flair, Emily took in everything. If she just so happened to end up in the music producing business, which was very unlikely but she was keeping her options open, she wanted to know all that she could. This was meant to be a learning experience and boy was she going to learn.

"And by the end of today," Gustavo said, "me and my team will transform the four dogs from Minnesota into Gustavo Rocque's new pop explosion!" The style group and the choreographer posed, as if on cue. The final group of uptight suits stood awkwardly.

"We're the marketing team," the woman said. "We don't really have a move."

"Well, we could try something," the man suggested and shrugging, both attempted the robot. It was pretty sloppy.

"Stop it. Stop it, now," Gustavo commanded, and Emily was grateful to see the squeaky moves cease. "Thank you. First up at boot camp! Great dancing."

Minutes later, the group transitioned to the dance studio and into different clothes.

"Mr. X has choreographed for BoyQuake, Boyz in the Attic," Gustavo started to list. At every musical group named, the flaming choreographer gave an example dance move. Emily had to admit it. The man was good. He had a flow to his body. "Madonna. Beyonce." He also had a lot of confidence. "And Yo Gabba Gabba."

Mr. X approached the boys. "And now, I will make you eXplode with the dance." Worry crossed Carlos's face at the declaration and he donned his helmet. "They will start with an eXamination. Cross leg, spin, pose," Mr. X directed and gave a quick example. Emily's toes twitched in her Converse to repeat the motion. It was natural to feel an urge to repeat any and all dance instruction. After shared glances, the boys attempted to show the moves back, Logan's arm smacking Carlos in the face. Emily laughed.

"He's okay," she assured Kelly, who seemed a little worried as Logan and James helped the Latino back to his feet. "That's why he wears the helmet." Or, at least it was one benefit to having it. Mr. X approached the four 'dogs' to critique their tries.

He stopped before Kendall, "He is great, but not serious." James, "He is serious, but not great." Carlos, "He lost a pet when he was young and he is still sad." The Latino's face fell. "Sparky," he stated the name of the poor pet that had died much before his time. This Mr. X now put Emily on edge. How in the world did he knew about the long dead animal? The teen was going to look out for this guy. From her knowledge? You could not much trust a dancer. The business was competitive and behind your back. Next, it was Logan's turn. "And he is just plain awful." Emily decided that she did not like this man's accent, though she did like Logan's response, the simple inhalation and agreement. The smart boy wasn't letting the criticism get to him and there was another respect point added under Logan's name. Mr. X returned to Gustavo.

"They are eXcrutiating and cannot be ready by Friday." He had his arms crossed in the shape of an X.

"I'll X-double your salary," the music producer stated.

"X-done."

If the X in every sentence continued, Emily considered the possibility of her breaking something. Following that, she considered the likelihood of being fired and sent back to Minnesota were she to act on the possibility. The outcome was the decision that it wasn't worth it. Better to be annoyed than to be stuck at home.

"Alright. I'm gonna be back in one hour and I wanna see dancers, not dogs. Intern, follow," Gustavo commanded. Shooting her four friends an encouraging smile, Emily did as she was told. On their way to wherever she was being led to, her boss asked, "So, intern, person, thing, what makes you useful?"

"Well, sir, I am extre- moderately intelligent. I can follow direction. I have had dance training since I was four, as well as hockey. I can play the piano. Uh… I know a bit of psychology and I'm kind of a poetry buff which NO ONE should ever know about, but might be beneficial lyrically. And… oh! The guys. They aren't easy to control, but they usually listen to me under threat of pain. So, if you need help with that. I also have a driver's license," Emily listed. As much as her mother drove her insane, the teen had to be grateful for a few of the things she had forced her into. Although hockey beat dance, she really did enjoy moving her body successfully to a beat. Although playing piano was not a large joy, it was a convenient skill. Without the pressure of her mom, she never would have gotten her license, nor would she have fallen in love with poetry so early in life (though she kept this love a secret because it was girly and embarrassing).

As they entered a room with a piano, Emily stood awkwardly waiting for instruction as Gustavo took a seat before the instrument.

"It's time to write a song. I'm gonna write a song now. And it is going to rock!" the music producer said, as if psyching himself up for it.

"No doubt about it, sir," Emily agreed. Another lie. She wasn't much a fan of his music, though she only knew the songs Kendall had sang (although Kendall made all music sound good). Then again, Em really didn't like pop. She listened to mostly rock and older rock at that. Queen, Guns N Roses, Aerosmith. Those she liked.

"Intern!" Gustavo bellowed. "Be quiet. Go sharpen my pencils!" Ah, the grunt work of an intern. She should have expected something as lame as this.

"But don't you use pens?" Kelly asked.

"Ah! No one asked you! Now be quiet! I need silence to create my masterpiece."

Masterpiece my butt! Now. Pencil sharpening. I'm gonna sharpen those pencils like a boss. Wherever the heck the pencils and sharpener were. Silently, Emily loped around the room, gaze smoothly roved the room in search. As Kelly came into the line of sight, the teen gave a sheepish smile. Despite the rocky start where the older woman had ignored her will, Em found that Kelly was quite alright in her book. And she became even more so when she gestured to where the pencils were hiding.

"Thank you," the tomboy mouthed and slunk over to the classic, yellow writing utensils. All were completely unsharpened, as new as when they had been purchased. Atop of a desk sat an electric sharpener. Emily was pretty sure that that constituted as a piece of technology. And noise. Considering the temper Gustavo had, it was almost certain that using the thing and breaking it would be very, very bad. Fortunately, in the top drawer of the desk, she found a small hand sharpener.

As the producer began to sing loud, horrible lyrics about it being 'girl time', Emily grimaced and literally bit her tongue to hold back a groan. An entire hour suffering through this? Maybe one of those pencils would find itself jabbed in her eye… Surely it was too early to tell her boss that this song was nothing short of disgusting. After about ten minutes of sharpening pencils, she was ready to snap all of the pencils in half. It was utterly boring. And listening to Girl Time didn't help the situation at all.

Entertain yourself, Greene. There's always something to do in everything. After a minute of thought, she decided that she was going to try and sharpen an entire pencil with one single, unbroken shaving. Ever so carefully, she twisted the thing, dark brows drawing together in utter concentration. When Em set her mind to something, she set her entire being to it. Which was how she had succeeded in getting the internship.

The pencil was doing well. Nearly half of it had been eaten away and the shaving was one long, weak spiral. So completely focused on this task, she was actually startled. She was actually, genuinely startled when Gustavo smacked down on some keys violently and suddenly shouted something that wasn't a word. It made her jump. And the flimsy little pencil shaving broke. Anger overtook Emily, flooding through her. She had been so close! With a sharp snap, the pencil between her fingers broke.

"Intern! Stop breaking my pencils and get over here! Write what I say!" Apparently, Gustavo was going to be referring to her by her temporary profession rather than any variation of her name. Lovely. The rest of the hour was going to pass slowly…

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"Okay! So, it's been an hour and…," Gustavo fell short. The four boys were on the floor, in various stages of tired and sweaty. To Emily, it looked like a good workout, albeit a short one for what she assumed would be in store. As she stared at the boys, though, those thoughts washed away. Something was off.

"What happened to Mr. X?" Kelly asked. Ah. That was what was off. The weird choreographer was missing.

"Well," Logan started, "first he banged his head into the wall a few times." I know the feeling.

"Then we got really dizzy," upside-down Carlos said. Don't know that feeling.

"Then he said a bunch of bad words that started with X," James continued. Bad words? Shame shame! You're not supposed to curse around minors! Even Emily knew that.

"Then he X-quit." The easy going look on Kendall's face may not have helped the situation as quaky, angry Gustavo Rocque listened, growing visibly worse.

"Oh no," Kelly immediately dropped her things and grabbed a pair of headphones. Emily was about to ask what was going on when the mouth nearest her bellowed the loudest angry exclamation the teen had ever heard. Her ears and her head hurt.

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They were in another room again, this one fair sized with a long table at which the quintet sat, the four boys holding papers. Emily was currently fiddling with her ears, tugging on the once pierced, but unearringed lobes, pressing and shaking with hopes that full hearing ability would return. This was ridiculous.

"Part two of my great pop band boot camp," Gustavo said, dramatically pausing as he thunked his hands on the table. "The great look."

"When do we sing?" James asked curiously.

"When I tell you to sing!" Gustavo shouted, drawing a wince from Emily. She definitely still had some hearing.

"Guys," the Asian marketing man addressed the boys. "We have some exciting looks that will literally transform you."

"Can't we just be ourselves?" Kendall asked, quite the common sense question. It was greeted with laughter ended with a "No."

The marketing woman flipped on a powerpoint. "Boys, we researched and electroshocked focus groups to determine the exact look and name that will sell millions of records. Then we turn you over to the stylists-" said stylists appeared, one model worthy woman to stand behind each boy, "to change all of your clothes and possibly shave your heads."

James let out a well deserved, high pitched noise of fear, hands protectively touching the hair he was so proud of.

"Now," the woman continued, "Griffin wants a tasty dish on Friday. That's why we're giving him…" The words were clearly the key statement that set the stylists off because they immediately began to harass the boys, tugging at their hair and their clothes. Although what the stylists did probably could have been considered sexual harassment, Emily had to give them props for being so quick. And she had to giggle when she saw the first style.

"Boy-Liscious!"

It was ridiculous. Undeniably ridiculous. Carlos wore a funky track suit. Kendall had no shirt and a pair of denim overalls. Awkwardly shiny pants adorned James's lower half and his upper half was barely covered with a weird blousy thing. And Logan looked more like a nerd than Emily had known was possible, with dorked out glasses, a piano scarf tie thing that Em couldn't identify as well as a yellow bowtie. It was pretty pathetic. And the blond clearly shared the negative sentiments.

"The beach. The girls. The shirtless overalls," he said.

"I think we look good," James smiled, popping what would have been a collar on a normal shirt.

"Not bad." Gustavo was using that grossly high pitch again. Emily decided that she preferred going deaf from his deep yelling to this annoying tone. "But I need options."

"You got that right. This isn't the nineties anymore," the teen uttered beneath her breath.

"What else you got?"

"Change it!"

After further molestation of her best friends, Emily was left laughing in disbelief at the latest development.

"Red, White and Boy," the two marketers saluted the now patriotic quartet. "This look tested great with war veterans who own Buicks."

"Woah, wait, what?" Emily asked, stifling her giggles. "That's ridiculous. Eleven to fifteen year old girls aren't war veterans and they aren't old enough to own Buicks. Besides, that is an incredibly limited target group and an completely asinine idea."

"We still look good," James grinned.

"We look like Uncle Sam threw up on us," Kendall complained.

"You," Gustavo pointed to Emily, "and you," he pointed to Kendall as well, "Silence. You," his finger found target at the marketers now, "More options."

"Change them."

More molestation of the poor boys. This time when Emily saw them, she literally rolled on the floor laughing. The were in the darkest, tightest get up that she had never thought possible. Make up and everything! They looked so uncomfortable!

"I give you Danger Boy. Danger Boy is danger and parents will forbid their kids to buy the dangerous music," the woman said. The man spoke next, "Which is exactly why they will." The pair knuckle touched, blew it up and booyah'd. It was very non deserved.

"Hold up. Hold up. I have got to get a picture of this!" Emily gasped, still laughing as she rose to her feet to snap a picture on her phone. For this action, she received a tired glare.

"I can't feel my legs," Logan worried.

"That's because the pants are dangerously tight," the woman commented to Gustavo. Logan let out a pained, high pitched cough. Poor boys' junk was probably being hugged a little too tightly for comfort. Even Emily refused to wear bottoms that tight and she had no sensitive male parts in danger.

"Pants that tight means limited dancing," Em spoke in Gustavo's other ear. Although she was absolutely tickled pink by the outfits, she would not allow her friends to endure that sort of torture.

"I hate it," Gustavo agreed.

"So do we." And those marketers had no spine.

"I need five new looks for tomorrow," the music producer decided. Carlos looked terrified at the prospect. Maybe Emily could swing her nonexistent weight around and hint at letting the boys pick their own clothes? Or at least pick something without a weird theme. Or, at the very, very least, pick a something with a theme that matched the music.

"Alright! Now follow me to hear your first hit single that's gonna put me back on top! Move out!"

Trailing behind her boss, Emily stayed back enough to watch her friends struggling, finding it hard to move, let alone stand up. Was it bad that she was kind of amused watching them? Though as they started "woah"ing and "going down", she let out a sigh. The boys crashed to the floor. "I think we look good," James had to add, words met by groans and eye rolls.

"Here. Let me help you guys," she said and individually hauled each boy up. "Conga line. I'll hold you all up." With Kendall immediately behind her, she grabbed his hands and set them firmly on her hips, a more stable place than her shoulders. The rest of the boys mimicked the action and with Emily serving as a steady base, they eventually successfully reached Gustavo.

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"Okay. Part three of the great pop group boot campapalooza: the great song," Gustavo announced and turned to his piano. Excitedly, Kelly held up the lyrics sheet Emily had handwritten and then typed.

"It's called Girl Time," the assistant said and passed out a sheet to each of the four.

"It sucks," the tomboy mouthed.

"It's a song about no matter what time of day it is, don't you know it's girl time," Gustavo sang the end and Kelly added a little flare with a point.

"It still sucks," Emily mouthed again. The song was incredibly shallow. As a teenage girl, she would not be impressed with it or empowered to buy it. As an English fan, she was disgusted by the lack of poetry with the music. At least the piano sounded good…

"Oh, I just woke up," Gustavo pretended to yawn, stretching as he approached the boys. "What time is it?" he asked, and immediately answered his own question. "It's girl time. Excuse me, sir. Do you know what time it is? Yeah. It's girl time."

"What if you have a sinus infection? Isn't that doctor time?" Logan asked and Emily couldn't help but laugh again. The best part was that the smart boy wasn't trying to be a smartass like Kendall. He was genuinely asking. Her friends were quite the amusing bunch.

"No!" Gustavo looked quite frustrated. "No, no, no! It's still girl time!"

"Ah. Right." There was Logan being sheepish again.

"Do any of your songs not have the word girl in them?" There was Kendall being that smartass again. Though Emily definitely did not blame him for that. The song really was terrible.

"Heh. Well, let's find out Mr. Question Everything I Do. Let's take a look at my wall of platinum records!" Gustavo liked to yell for emphasis, Emily noticed. She would have complained, but it was better than the high pitch.

Mr. Big Man pushed passed the two tall boys to reach the wall. "Let's see there's, uh, Girl Like You, Girl You Are My Girl, Hot Girl, Cold Girl, Girl to My Heart, Yard Squirrel Christmas. I forgot that one was there."

"I love that song," Emily whispered (though the rest sounded almost as bad as Girl Time).

"Uh, Girl Zone, Girl Zone Remix, Girl Cake, and Girl Girl Girl which sold three million copies and was number one for five weeks!" Once again, Gustavo slid up to Kendall in what looked like too close proximity for Emily. The blond had the ever present, unfazed smirk on his lips. "Any other questions, dog?" Condescendingly, he patted Kendall's cheek twice and the smirk fell, only to rise again a half a second later. Here comes another brilliant, but stupid comment from Kendall Knight. Gotta love him.

"Are any of those songs from this girllenium?" he quipped.

Emily had never realized it was possible to become as angry as Gustavo did. The man turned red, he vibrated, he shouted. He literally quaked and physically shook the earth in his explosion. It was nice to see that someone had a worse temper than her. It was also nice to know to cover her ears prior to the otherworldly bellow. It was not nice to know that she had to work for this guy for six months.

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"Okay. Your heart rate is back to normal and your blood pressure is one twenty over eighty. You can produce now," Kelly told Gustavo. Following the insane outburst, the assistant had had to calm the lug down and physically make sure he was okay. The intern had been reduced to fetching water, setting pillows down in a little recording room and also gathering a large number of fruit water to set in said room. When she returned to the studio area, the big man had been hooked up to a few things.

"Is it normal for producers to have to have their heart rate and blood pressure checked in studio?" Emily asked, genuinely interested in the answer. For once, she was glad Logan had bored her one afternoon and taught her how to monitor the physical crap and what was normal.

"Surprisingly?" Kelly responded. "Yeah."

As Gustavo went to press some buttons, the woman grabbed his arm. "Ah, but remember, the boys haven't had a break all day. I think they're getting a little punchy."

"I am seriously surprised none of them have started beating on each other yet," Emily added.

"I don't care," the producer said and went about his business, hitting a button that filtered his voice into the small room the boys were contained in. Em took note of the button (she wanted to know eventually if music producing was even the slightest of interests for her). "Okay, and now it's time for the final phase of Gustavo Rocque's most awesomest pop group boot camp." Emily was pretty sure he changed the wording of the title every time. Not that she was keeping track. Just like she wasn't keeping track of the fact every other phase of the camp had failed thus far. "The singiiing," Gustavo sang, mic creating a high frequency noise briefly.

"What is this place?" Kendall asked.

"It's a sound booth, guys," Kelly answered. "It just isolates the vocals in case we need to edit or enhance them later."

"Why are there pillows on the floor?" Carlos questioned, lifting one fluffy rectangle up.

"Do you want us to nap? Cuz we will," James offered.

"They just absorb any extra echo or treble, just like those big foam mic covers," the dark skinned assistant explained. Kendall lifted one for examination and, Emily assumed bored, tapped the thing against his head. "And I had Emily put some fruit water in there in case your mouths get dry, okay?"

James and Logan offered an appreciative thumbs up.

"Okay, great," Gustavo took over the studio's microphone again, "and-" Another high noise crossed the airwaves and Kendall tapped Carlos's head with the foamy mic of the sound booth.

"Funny. Do it again," Carlos challenged, unamused.

"And this is where they start beating on each other," Emily whispered loudly to the man she worked under. Kendall only proved her point when he smacked the Latino's head harder.

"Not so tough without your helmet, are you?" he laughed.

In a flash, Carlos grasped a bottle of fruit water and with a battle cry, he pressed down on the plastic, squirting the blue liquid all over an unintended target. Logan. That amused the Latino and he laughed.

"Knock it off!" the very unhappy brain scowled. Carlos simply repeated the action and Logan couldn't fight a smile as he took the challenge offered. He picked up a red filled bottle and retaliated, only to pull a Carlos and hit the wrong person. James.

"Oh frick. Yup. Fight. That was James's lucky white V neck…," Emily frowned.

"You just ruined my lucky white V neck!" James shouted. And so began a war.

"Maybe the fruit water was a bad idea," Kelly admitted.

"Intern! Make your stupid friends stop," Gustavo ordered.

"Yes sir," Emily agreed, quite happy to do this job. Calmly, she handed her cell to Kelly and made her way to the sound booth. Softly, but surely, she knocked on the door to announce her presence. And the she slammed it open. "Stop it right now!" she shouted. Of course, Kendall, Carlos, James and Logan were a little more concerned with having fun than paying attention to consequences and all four turned to Emily, their current weapons of choice painting her shirt shades of colors.

"Oh, it's on!" she said, picking up a pillow. Immediately, she began a violent, but light hearted assault on her friends and what was a fruit water fight became a feather filled pillow war. White fluttered down, mixing in with the laughter and 'oofs' in the air. One particularly hard smack from Emily threw Carlos into the window. Everything was a mess.

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Emily was pretty positive that this was one of those moments where being grouped with the guys was a bad thing. Standing in a line before Gustavo, she took the first place on the left beside her favorite crazy person.

"You!" Gustavo pointed at her, starting his negative tirade. "Lied and didn't do your job!" Well, now I feel great. Good job, Greene. Way to make him want to keep you around for six months.

He moved onto Carlos. "You! Can't sing." That's a lie.

Onto Logan. "You! Can't sing or dance." Not entirely true.

"But I can backflip," the brain offered hopefully.

"Stop it."

"Okay."

"Forever."

"Mmhm," Logan dropped his head dejectedly. Emily didn't like that. She didn't like that at all. It was like when Gustavo had initially crushed James's dreams and when he'd crushed them the second time. Speaking of the pretty boy…

He offered a smile and Gustavo merely moved on, clearly hurting the boy. Now Mr. Big Man stood before Kendall.

"And worst of all, you don't even seem to want this!" The blond merely coughed out a mouthful of feathers.

"W-what about me?" James spoke up. "I can sing, dance and I want this."

"You remind me a lot of Matthew McConaughey," the music producer said. James took this as a compliment.

"Awesome," he smiled. That man does have a nice body.

"I can't stand Matthew McConaughey." The smile fell. That man also can't act…

"This group can't sing, can't dance. You don't have a song or a look and they're covered in feathers! And I would rather quit right now than commit pop suicide on Friday in front of the record company. However, there is one song I would love to play for you." Gustavo crossed to the piano and sat down. A frown crossed Emily's lips. Was this what it sounded like? He began to play.

"Ooh, now that I'm through bangin' my head, this band of dogs, is officially dead!" He topped off the terrible tune with some elegant piano playing.

"Wait," Emily raised a hand. "Am I fired, too?"

The room was silent for a full ten seconds. The teen counted.

"I haven't decided! Check back tomorrow."

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Returning to the Palm Woods was replete with melancholy. Laying by the poolside failed to fix the mood, light, lilting guitar drifted past. A devastated James paced back and forth, irritably lifting his hands to his hair sporadically.

"He's a really good piano player," Logan eventually stated, the first to break the silence that had grown.

"Really good," Emily agreed, a tight grip on her knees. She could have learned from that man. She could have learned a lot and gained a lot and now? Now it was all unsure and on the line. And this time? She couldn't argue if he chose to fire her. Fighting with her friends had been stupid and immature and although very Emily, it was far from professional.

"And I am so depressed," Carlos said monotonously. To see the constantly chipper, hyper Latino so down worsened the atmosphere.

"It's the music," Kendall sighed. "Guitar Dude. Please?"

The long haired male lifted his head and his hands, pulling away from the instrument. "Oh. Sorry," he whispered.

As the five teens continued to wallow in their somber moods, Katie approached, bag slung over her shoulder.

"So," she stopped, hands on her hips. "has Gustavo Dork make you guys famous yet?"

"We had some creative differences," Kendall answered, using the same line Nicole Scherzinger had.

"You got fired, didn't you?" the unnaturally intelligent preteen shot back.

"All he did was yell and scream at us. And make us wear dangerously tight pants."

"Yeah, you're right. All he wanted was to turn us into rich and famous pop stars! What an idiot!" James was taking this rejection worse than he had before. This time Emily saw anger in him on top of every other crushing blow. He had put effort into everything, then girl realized, and it still hadn't worked for him. Again.

"He wanted to turn us into his trained, dancing dogs," Kendall argued.

"Rich and famous dancing dogs!" James replied, clearly desperate by the dramatic, emphasizing jumps.

"He's got a point," Logan agreed.

"Oh? You're siding with James now?" the blond leader questioned.

"No. No, I do-, maybe? Kinda," he cleared his throat, as indecisive and spine weak as always. "Yes?"

"You guys blew it. You blew my shot. You could have tried harder, but you didn't!"

"Look, James, chill. I'm not entirely fired yet. If I still have the internship tomorrow, I'll talk to Gustavo. Maybe I can convince him that you guys are worth it. Because you are worth it," Emily said, trying to be helpful. The boys couldn't just give up. It was like a poem she had memorized once written by a guy with a weird name she could never recall. An opened door is before you. You only have to walk in, and discover your potentials- all success to win. An opened door is before you, which no one else can close. Only you can shut it- despite the hindrance posed. An opened door is before you, so pick up your stride. Arise and go forward. Don't stop till you're inside. They had what it took. All of them did. And despite the fact that Gustavo was difficult and there was so much against them, like a crazy time limit, the only thing that could stop them was them. As long as they picked their heads up and worked harder, it would work out. Right?

"Ha! You think you'll still have a job?" James laughed bitterly. "He fired you first! Why would he keep you when he wouldn't keep us?"

That was not the right thing to say. Immediately, Emily was on her feet, a genuine growl emanating from deep within her. After her inspirational thoughts and what she considered a nice offer, she had not expected such a harsh slam. And she wasn't going to take it. A moment later, Carlos was up and getting between the two flaring teens.

"Okay," he said, with that usual good nature back, arms swinging out. "Let's just all calm down and think nice happy thoughts about kittens." It was such a happily delivered suggestion and a smile came with it. Emily almost considered trying to consider the fluffy animals (even if she only had iffy thoughts about cats). But James had to continue to be a jerk.

"You think about kittens with your bad singing and that stupid helmet!" He shoved the Latino down back onto one of the beach chairs.

"What the heck, James? Carlos didn't do anything," Emily glared and she shoved the pretty boy. After all of his attitude, her sympathy for the situation was eliminated and any thoughts that would have brought the feelings back were clouded by anger.

James was about to shove the tomboy back. When it came to the four boys, Emily's gender meant nothing. She was just as much of a guy as the rest of them. That no hitting girls rule? It had never applied to her.

"Guys, guys," Logan stood up, trying to pacify. "Remember our pact about not letting this town tear us apart?"

The words went ignored as James lunged towards Emily. Carlos launched himself at the pretty boy, another battle cry leaving his lips. A three-way wrestling match began.

"Great!" Kendall threw up his arms. "Now we're all fighting!" He was on his feet. "I didn't even want to do this!" Yet of course he wrapped arms around Emily's waist, trying hard to pull her away from Carlos and James. Logan took the pretty boy on the other side. Limbs tangled with limbs and shouted mingled with one another, cries becoming nothing more than cries, few words clear enough to understand. Before any of them knew it, they were falling head first into the water, a rush of cool liquid drenching their bodies and drenching the heat of the argument. As they came up, selves slick with water and gasping to catch surprised breath, Katie stood over them, smug and arms crossed.

"Katie! What was that for?" Kendall shouted.

"Looked like you guys needed to cool off," she retorted calmly.

"She's right," James sighed. "I'm sorry."

Although they forgave, they still splashed and dunked.

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Still wet and still a little sad, the quintet sat around a small fire pit near the pool.

"I could stay here and be a model," James tried to console himself. "I'm still great looking. Or the star of a reality show."

At least James had another option. Emily had no idea how to salvage her own situation were she actually fired. She had no dream to aspire towards. This would likely end up on some record somewhere (she irrationally believed) and if that were true, everyone everywhere would see that she was let go in one day. One day. That immediately suggested that she was bad beyond belief. And then there was the issue of her grandmother who was due to arrive any day. Where was she supposed to go? A nursing home, now? Did insurance even cover that? Thoughts were swirling in her mind, darting around so quickly that they all passed before someone could respond to James's proclamation.

"Which one?" Carlos said, quite snarky. "Project Idiot?"

"That's just your jealousy talking." And that was James being normal, being secure. At least he was finally pulling it together.

"You know what's funny?" Kendall stated his question. "We didn't even get a chance to sing together."

Another unfair thing about the entire situation. The guys hadn't even been given a full shot.

"At least you didn't have to sing that stupid Girl Time song. I thought I was going to have to kill myself when I was copying it down for Mr. Big Man," Emily sighed. Despite the fact that she absolutely loathed the guy, she had to admit, the torture had been a little fun. Or maybe she was a little masochistic and had yet to realize it until now. Or maybe, just maybe, the idea of working for a music producer was actually pretty damn exciting.

"How about your favorite song?" Kendall offered with a small smirk. The other four peered at him curiously. "Oh, you're such a turd," he began alone, Carlos quick to join in. "Oh yeah, a giant turd. And you look like a turd and you smell like a turd." Far from a singer, Emily began to bob her head to the small, unheard beat. Logan joined in now and James added a layer to the music. The five rose to their feet, the boys starting another round of the song. Em created a few nonsense dance moves to go along. The third repetition and Logan began to beat box, giving the tomboy a tune to spin to. "And you sme-e-ell like a tuuurd," James's vocals decorated the final few notes. The small song had produced some sort of a miracle, the quintet laughing now instead of grieving, a marvelous change. And as they fell back into their seats, applause rose up around them, a beautiful approval. Even the Jennifers rose to their feet to commend the group. With a smile, James bowed.

"We should do this," Kendall said to the boys and brought himself to his feet again. "You guys are right. I really think we should do this."

"How? We got fired, remember?" Logan logically responded.

"We didn't get fired."

The look Logan shot the blond had him retracting his statement. "I mean, we got fired, but the problem is we didn't try our best."

James rose his hand. "I tried my best."

"We know, James," Kendall nodded. "We know. Guitar Dude." He turned to the addressed. "I need some music. Something inspirational." Here came a world famous Knight speech. This was the leader Emily knew and loved. The guitar player began to elicit soft sounds from his acoustic.

"We are hockey players," the blond began. "Brothers of the ice and we do not quit. Now, are we gonna dump the puck and scramble back to the bench? Or are we gonna grab that puck, pull the goalie and rush the net big time?" Put it in hockey terms and they all understood. Put it in words spoken by Kendall Knight and they all believed.

"You really think we can make it as a boy band?" Carlos asked and James beside him was starting to grow excited.

"No," Kendall said.

"I," Emily interrupted, "think that you guys can do it. You can do anything you set your mind to, 'despite the hindrance posed'." The end of her sentence earned fairly confused glances, but lips curled upwards. However, her word was not as strong as the leader's. They needed to hear it from him. And they were going to.

"I've realized three things since I've come here. One, I love singing. Two, I love singing with you guys and opportunities like this come once in a life time, for all of us."

"What's the third thing?" Logan asked.

"It's minus eight in Minnesota right now… and I'm in love with this pool." Each of them chuckled.

"So what's the play? Dump the puck? Or big time rush?"

James roes to his feet. "Big time rush."

Carlos stood next. "Big time rush."

Third came Logan. "Big time rush."

As Emily stood, she was heavily tempted to say something along the lines of "work for Rocque Records" or "work for Mr. Shouts-a-Lot" but the two or any variations of would have been out of place and with the atmosphere Guitar Dude provided, saying anything but the right three words would have been wrong. So her lips parted and the easy fragment rolled off of her tongue.

"Big time rush."

Kendall grinned and cocked his head.

"Big time rush."

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After a call and a ride, the quintet walked into Rocque Records with a purpose. It was silent. On the opposing end of the hall stood Gustavo and the employees who had tried and failed to create a band out of the boys. Each group stepped forward and forward until the centers met, both leaders staring each other down. For the third time that day, Kendall and Gustavo faced one another. Gustavo was the first to speak.

"Well?"

"Okay," Kendall smiled. "We'll do it your way. No goofing off. No pillow fights. And no questions for the next two days."

Every gaze turned to the music producer who had final say.

"Okay," he agreed. "Girl Time. From the top."

"Wait!" the blond reached to stop him. "Except for that. We really don't want to sing Girl Time."

"Okay. Let me guess! You have a better idea. Well let's, let's hear it! Let's hear the dogs' better song title!"

Emily smirked. The 'dogs' definitely had a better song title. In fact, they had a little more than a simple title. During the short ride (and the grabbing of sweatshirts), she had jotted down a few random lyrics and she was certain that they would rock.

"Big Time. Rush," the five spoke in sync.

"It's a song about four hockey players from Minnesota who have an amazing opportunity in front of 'em," Kendall explained. "And they're gonna take their best shot."

It was selfish of Emily, that she wished the song was about five hockey players from Minnesota, but she knew well enough. She knew that this song had to be about the band, about the four. That did not estrange her from her friends. She played her own part in the friendship and a big part of that was being a not so sensitive person. So, she was going to be not so sensitive and simply be happy, as long as she and the boys had their jobs.

"I like it," Kelly said when Gustavo had been silent too long. "And you've got to stop using the word girl in all of your song titles."

"IIIIIIII," Gustavo drew the word out, drawing out anticipation. "like it, also. We're gonna be working all night because Friday is two days away and we are in a big! Time! Rush!"

"Yes!" the quintet cheered, high fiving, hugging, knuckle touching. Until Emily realized something.

"Do I still have my internship?" she asked.

"I could still use some free labor."

"Yes!"

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The next few days were spent with more hours at the studio than was probably healthy, but it all passed in a frenzied flash. Immediately following the agreement to continue working together, Gustavo had gotten down to business and impressed everyone with the speed in which he created a new, non-girl based song (pleasing Emily as he did so by taking two of the few lyrics she had come up with). Soon after, they were in the studio, recording.

"Okay," Gustavo had said. "Big Time Rush from the top, only this time let's try not to make me wanna choke you."

They four had started to sing and although initially it was rough, the voices rising from the bodies of Emily's four best friends melded into beautiful notes, verses, harmonies, layers. The sound of their singing washed over her, warmed her, made her proud. Emily had hardly been more proud of them during their years together.

The recording started and ended. The dancing started and ended (with Em's help and hockey comparisons, things going smoother). The look was created and finished. Friday arrived and all that was left was a pinch of hope and a handful of nerves. CEO Arthur Griffin arrived. It was time to show what Big Time Rush could be.

Everyone dressed professionally, Gustavo trading his usually baggy attire for a suit. Kelly went a little less casual, a skirt, a jacket, a blouse. Even Mr. X had gone for something a more serious.

Behind the seated CEO they anxiously watched, Emily swelling with pride and sweating with nerves. As if her seriousness would make a difference, the teen wore what she had on interview day, though this time she had had the opportunity to look presentable, to shower, to put on a few dashes of make-up (although she hated it). Long locks were left down, but tucked behind ears so that nothing would hinder her sight. And nothing did. Her stare was focused and everywhere, taking in every movement her best friends made as they danced and sang, as they performed as an amazing band. And they were amazing. Though the routine was riddled with little errors, it was perfect. It was real and it was the only pop song she could say she genuinely loved. The energy. The passion. The let go. The intensity. She saw it and she fed off of it. If Big Time Rush didn't get the pass? There was no predicting what her reaction would be, but it would not be good. Potentially prison worthy.

As the final pose settled and the music drifted away from everything but memory and adrenaline pulse, everyone tore their gaze away from the catching boys and diverted everything to Arthur Griffin awaiting his verdict. He turned in his seat and gave such a simple, calm response.

"I like 'em. And the board's gonna love 'em." He stood. Emily stared, heart stopped, breathing ceased. Was it time for her to run into the other room now and shout her cheers and congratulations to her friends? "You got three months to make your demos. I told you the boy band was back." The man lightly slapped Gustavo's face twice. "I have to go. My pants are cold." He and his two assistants made their exit. Now that they were gone? Emily darted to the door, pausing only at Gustavo's voice.

"Guess who's staying in LA?" he said, and she was off running, darting around a corner and through another door. The boys were cheering, just as they deserved to be. "Stop cheering," Gustavo stopped them again. "If you thought the last three days were hard, wait 'til you see the next three months. Carlos still can't sing. Logan still can't dance. And I still can't stand James."

"We'll work on it!" Kendall smiled.

"Okay. Now you can celebrate."

Choruses of yes and 'woohoo's radiated from five mouths while pure, happy energy radiated from every pore.

"You guys were amazing!" Emily shouted, pouncing on the jumping, hugging, high fiving band, tugging them all into a group embrace. "You four are now officially my favorite, most loved, genuine sirs. I knew you could do it!"

Elation. This was here. This was real. This was going to be a big time rush.

A/N: Hello readers! Firstly, I want to give my thanks. Thanks to one anonymous for being first to review. I want to thank BabyBullet Proof and oheyyitzang for favoriting this fic. Thank you Carlee Davis for adding to your alert list. And super mega thanks to ImprecantesStellam for adding to your alert list as well as the amazing reviews that not only made my day but made me a little bit more secure in my feelings about this fan fiction (this chapter is now kind of sort of dedicated to you). Apologies to people for this being late (I wanted under two weeks), but, if you've made it this far, I think you can see what took me so long? The chapter's about forty-one pages in word… Anyway! I really hope you guys liked this chapter and please please please reviews? I would love them! Additionally, this will hopefully be the longest chapter. And, next chapter I will introduce Grammy. Let me warn you now, lady is crazy because I find it fun. And, for those of you who watch Victorious, I have clearly toyed with the idea of Emily and Jade being cousins. If any of you are absolutely opposed to the idea, go ahead and say so. I'd probably be opposed to it if I wasn't entertained by the idea. XD Thank you all for reading! I was so excited by the amount of people who clicked on the story last chapter. Keep keeping interested and keep keeping reading (anything)! : )