A/N: Hello once again! First the thank you's: to Bookish, for continuing the feedback, FearMe, for the Favorite add, and to Elle Sparrow, FantasyGirl, Iridessa (I love your name and immediately after I got the email that you added me, I saw a commercial for a fairie who had your name; so yeah, thought that was cool), Starlight, and Calisweet for adding me to their alerts. Sorry if you don't like me shortening your names, but that's just how lazy I am.

Okay, now that that's over with. I'm not really happy with this chapter, definitely not one of my bests, but I still hope you enjoy it all the same. I tried my best to portray each character fully and right and I still feel that I hadn't achieved that. I'm sorry in advance. But if you do happen to like this chapter, woohoo and yay! Drop me a review and I'll luv ya foreva'! And I know it's really long and I cut it off in a weird place, but the next one is gonna be (slightly) better, promise. So here's the story, have fun.

My Belle
Chapter Four
Close Encounters
"We must take our friends as they are."-James Boswell

It had been two whole days since the grocery encounter and Max was on pins and needles. It was like high school all over again. How much time should pass before calling that girl up again? One day? Two days? Not calling at all? He had never understood the rules of dating, because in Max's book rules were meant to be broken and relationships never lasted longer than needed. Technically it wasn't a date, but he did want to see her again. As he had dropped her off in front of her building, she left him her number saying he might need it, "just in case". He read this as girl code for "call me soon". But was two days soon enough?

He paced in front of the telephone, at times picking it up, and then hanging up again. What would he say? What would he tell her? Was it a call to just say hello or one that had initiative and a plan? He had run through several possible scenarios in his head on the conversation, but none seemed to work out. Maybe it was best that he just break her off completely. But that wouldn't be right, would it? If he really didn't want anything to do with her, then he wouldn't have trailed her down in the grocery store. Obviously he had wanted something.

Suddenly the phone rang, causing him to jump in shock. He raised his eyes as it rang a second time. On the third one, he picked it up.

"Michelle?" he asked cautiously.

"Michelle? Who the hell is that?" the familiar voice slurred on the other end.

Max rubbed his sweaty forehead. "Sorry, Sadie."

"I'm recording tonight, you wanna come over?"

Being a taxi driver really didn't fill up his schedule so he didn't have to think twice to know that he was free.

"Yeah, sure I'll be there."

"Oh, and bring Jude and Lucy too, 'kay?"

"Yup, got it."

"See ya there, hun."

Max nodded, then suddenly an idea popped into his head.

"Sadie, wait!"

"Hmmm?"

"Can I, uh, bring a guest?"

"Depends. Who is it?"

"Just an old friend of mine."

"I s'pose you could, as long as they ain't some spy from one of my enemy labels."

"I promise, they aren't."

"Okay. Fine."

"Thank you! Thank you so much, Sadie!"

"No prob, Max."

And the call was over.

"You don't think I'm overdressed do you?" Michelle asked, straightening out her thin red empire-waisted dress. She had on a red yarn paperboy hat and old beaten up brown boots.

Max glanced over, catching a glimpse at her cleavage before turning back to the road.

Bad, Max. No.

"No, you look fine," he replied a little breathless.

"I mean, I didn't know what to do," she continued. "What exactly do you where to a recording?"

Max shrugged. "Anything is fine really."

Michelle nodded. "Oh, okay."

They drove on quietly for a few moments until Max broke the silence.

"I'm sorry about calling you on such short notice."

"Oh, it wasn't a big deal," she replied. "Just had to push a few things around, but I'm happy I'm able to go."

"Why, do you work nights?" he asked.

She bit her lip. "I guess you can say that," she said vaguely.

Max felt that she was avoiding the question, but he didn't press on.

Another silence.

"Oh, so you shaved the 'stache," Michelle pointed out.

Max rubbed his upper lip and felt its smoothness.

"I like it," she said.

"Thanks."

Max would've liked to think that he had made the huge decision on his own, but honestly after Michelle's comment on it, he felt that it had to go. It didn't make it any less hard for him, though. He had stood for ten full minutes in front of the bathroom mirror, his razor in one hand, and a swirl of shaving cream in the other, debating on whether or not he should take the plunge and do it. Despite its short life, he had grown attached to his mustache. Though it hadn't done him any good, it was a part of him and it was always difficult to say goodbye to something like that. Then the dawning realization of the allusion between shaving away his mustache and that of breaking up with Michelle overcame him. If it had been so easy (well, technically it wasn't, but he didn't feel like getting into another fight with himself) to let Michelle go, then why was it any different for his mustache? In the end, he had reasoned to himself that getting rid of it was in his best interest if he wanted Michelle back. And before he could contradict himself, it was gone. It felt a little refreshing and Michelle's noticing of it made it all the more sweeter.

In no time at all they had arrived in front of Strawberry Jamz headquarters. After Max parked the car, the two got out. Michelle stopped and surveyed the vastness of the entire structure, slowly taking it all in at once. It was a little overwhelming, so overwhelming in fact, that Max noticed the discomfort shown on her face.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied, her eyes still scanning the building's brick façade. "It's just that, not in a million years would I imagine myself being in this place." She turned to Max. "This is where Sadie performed her rooftop concert, isn't it?"

Max nodded. "I was there."

Michelle smiled. "Wow, that is so crazy. I still can't get over the fact that you know Sadie! She's so big and popular and she used to be your landlord! And I'm such a big fan, what if I fuck up in front of her?"

"You won't," he reassured her, rubbing her arm awkwardly. "Sadie's more down to earth than you'd think."

Michelle swallowed loudly. "Do you think she'll get annoyed if I ask for an autograph?"

"Sadie? I doubt it."

Max advanced towards the entrance. As he reached out his hand to grab the knob, he turned to see Michelle still petrified on the city street. "Are you coming?"

She took one last deep breath before following.

Michelle's nerves still hadn't died down even as they approached the recording studio door up on the third floor. She had wobbled up the flight of stairs cautiously, following Max's figure. She looked incredibly pained and doubtful, as if it had been a big mistake coming. And she didn't hesitate on mouthing her opinion.

"What if they don't like me?"
"What if I trip over my shoes?"
"Do you think this outfit is over doing it?"
"Should I ditch the hat?"
"How about my hair?"
"Is Sadie really that down to earth?"
"Are Lucy and Jude there?"
"Will there be food?"
"Is a bathroom close by?"
"Is it one or two ply?"
"Maybe I should just go home."

"No!" Max said firmly. His overpowering voice even surprised him. He blinked a couple of times before recovering. "I mean, we're almost there, don't leave now."

Michelle's shoulders loosened up and she took one last look down the stair well, before joining Max in front of the door.

"Open it up before I chicken out," she said.

And he did.

The studios lights hit them head on, causing a temporary blurriness, but once their eyes became adjusted, they entered. Michelle stared around the room and was shocked to see how roomy and comfortable it was. They were currently in a sort of living room, a hang out of sorts. Two maroon couches were placed opposite each other against the wall and were adorned with multicolored shawls draping over their sides. Bean bag poofs dotted the carpeted floor for those who wanted a different perspective than the norm. Low lying lamps were situated on hard mahogany tables casting shadows against the white walls where Sadie's many awards hung framed and uniformed. Michelle couldn't help but smile at it all. Okay, not as bad as she thought.

"C'mon, I think they're through here," Max said, leading her through a doorway.

They were then in a brightly lit kitchen like area. A group of people had already settled themselves contentedly at the table's seats and were enjoying a healthy round of conversation. Finger food was set out in deep bowls for anyone who wanted a snack and bottles of beer were just an arm reach away. Smoke wafted from cigarettes and the happy resonance of laughter filled the air. Jude and Lucy were there, smiles planted permanently on their faces as they joined in on the current topic and others Michelle did not recognize were among the group.

"Hey, guys," Max greeted them, waving a hand.

They sung his name in unison as they turned towards him. They stood from their spots and each greeted him in their own unique way. As they did this, Max introduced them to Michelle, who he noted seemed to be easing up.

"Everyone, this is Michelle," Max introduced, indicating her.

Immediately everyone advanced towards her. Lucy welcomed her as if they were the best of friends, giving her a warm smile and a tight hug. Jude then came forward, not far from Lucy's side and exchanged a few words with her. Then, two people she didn't know at all walked up.

"Michelle, this is Jojo," Max said as a tall, black man with kind eyes and a strong handshake came up to her. "And this is Prudence." Beside him was a girl just about her height that shook her hand excitedly up and down with a huge grin on her face.

"So how do you know Max?" Prudence asked, swinging her beer along her side.

"We were friends back in college," Michelle replied.

"Oh, wow, and you just met up now?"

"Yeah, just pure coincidence."

"That's so cool," Prudence drawled, beaming.

"And how about you?" for Michelle was genuinely interested in this girl's relationship with Max.

"I used to live with him back when we were all livin' with Sadie," she said. She leaned in and lowered her voice. "Don't worry, we weren't serious. We just had a little fun sometimes."

Michelle nodded her head in understanding. What had she expected? For Max to stay chaste forever? Doubt it. But inside she felt a little disappointed, though she knew it was childish of her to feel so.

Michelle joined them at the table. She listened to them ease into another discussion easily realizing how relaxed they were with each other. She watched them speak, hearing their take on issues, sometimes getting heated about something political, then revert back to laughing and joking. She would sometimes offer her opinion when the right time came around and they would listen fully, and she would feel whole and proud of herself.

"So where's Sadie?" Michelle whispered to Max after about three quarters of an hour passed.

"Knowing Sadie, she's probably takin' her sweet time getting here," he replied.

Michelle checked her wrist watch nervously.

"Why? Is there some place you have to be?" he asked concerned.

"No, it's just that," she didn't finish her sentence because just then Sadie decided to make her entrance.

"Hey, ya'll," she crooned in her calm, signature voice.

Michelle froze upon seeing her idol in person.

Sadie came around; pecking everyone on the cheek, stopping momentarily to kiss Jojo fully, then abruptly came to a halt in front of Michelle. She gave her a peculiar look before realization dawned on her face. "Are you Max's guest?"

Michelle nodded, fidgeting with her hat which was now in her two hands.

Sadie's mouth turned up with a trace of a smile and suddenly she flung an arm across Michelle's shoulders. "Well, welcome to Strawberry Jamz Studio! It had totally slipped my mind that Max'd brought someone. If I had remembered, I would've came sooner. Never the best at first impressions." She then cackled lively, throwing her head back, her thick curls flying and bouncing up and down. Once she had recovered, she noticed that Michelle seemed to have remained still. She turned to Max. "She deaf or something?"

"No, no, no," he said. "She's just nervous. Think an autograph'll help."

"Then why didn't you say so?" Sadie bellowed letting go of Michelle and grabbing one of her albums. She whipped out her handy dandy black marker and scribbled her sig on the cover. She blew over her mark to dry it off a bit, then handed it to Michelle. "There ya go love. All you had to was ask."

Michelle took it gratefully. "Thanks," she breathed softly.

Sadie beamed then led the group into the actual recording studio. More couches were placed in the room and everyone took their spots. Michelle took a seat between Max and Prudence, still staring awestruck at her new album. Sadie entered the recording booth, followed by Jojo and they did what they did best.

Sing.

"You've been so quiet," Prudence said over Sadie's powerful voice blaring through the speakers. "We've all spoken, I wanna know about you."

"What is there to say exactly?" Michelle replied.

Prudence placed a thin finger over her mouth in thought. "Well, how were you in Max back in college?"

Max turned his head pretending not to listen.

"We were just really good friends," Michelle started. "He went to Princeton and I went to Evelyn across town."

"How'd you meet?" Prudence continued.

"Well we didn't start off on the best of terms," Michelle began.

"Why am I not surprised?" Prudence smirked.

"But I guess it all began back in our freshman year there."

Clarissa was bragging about some guy. I wasn't really paying attention. Whenever she started talking about all the men she's bagged, I've just learned to tune her out. To be honest, I never really liked hearing her stories. She was so free with her sexuality whereas I was still a virgin and was thoroughly planning on staying that way. I still wonder why I was friends with her. Maybe it was because she was the first person to introduce herself to me, or because we were roommates, or because I was just incredibly stupid at the time. Whatever the reason, I was stuck with her, so I might as well get used to it.

"Where does he go?" Joyce, another one of our dorm buddies asked.

"Princeton," Clarissa sighed. "So convenient since he's just across town."

"You could go over and sleep with him every week without having to miss class. It is perfect," Nancy mumbled, taking a long drag from her cigarette. She was also another one of the girls that stayed in our dorm. To be honest, I preferred her and Joyce's company over Clarissa's, but I never did get my way.

Joyce and I laughed at her comment while Clarissa merely scowled. "You're just jealous all the guys fall over me while you three are sitting by yourselves. I can't help the way I look, if they find me so attractive."

"You attractive, I don't think so," Nancy continued. "But those melons planted on your chest are what they're after."

Joyce and I giggled some more.

"If you didn't have them practically hanging out of your shirt, you wouldn't be sleeping with as many people as you've been," Nancy finished, blowing smoke into the air.

"A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do," Clarissa said defiantly.

Joyce rolled her eyes. "You are such a bitch sometimes, you know that?"

"And that's why you guys love me," she slurred, teetering a bit from having one too many drinks.

We were on our way back to school after a night out. Seeing as none of us had a car, we had to make the long journey home on foot. We didn't really mind, though. It was a nice time to just talk.

"I'm surprised you're not in someone's bed right now," I said, balancing against the street curb. The road was currently deserted so I wasn't worried about getting trampled by a passing car.

"That's because we have an exam in the morning," Clarissa yawned, leaning against Nancy's shoulder. "I can't afford to get kicked out."

All three of them were daughters of important faculty members at Evelyn. Most of the girls studying there were. I was among the few who wasn't which made me immediately different from the rest of them.

"Did I finish telling you about this guy?"

We all groaned. It didn't stop her from continuing.

"Well I met him at the town tavern a month ago when you guys were busy doing work and I was off by myself. He was with a bunch of his guy friends drinking and playing pool. Whenever he leaned over to hit one of those balls with his stick, I always managed to check his—"

"Okay, too much information," I stopped her, knowing where this was going.

"No thank you," Joyce added, shaking her head.

"Well, anyway. I started to talk him up and he had these really entrancing blue eyes and they hooked me. I'm telling you guys, he was something different."

"Different? What do you mean?" Nancy asked, lighting up again.

"Like," Clarissa started, trying to find the right words to explain. "he wasn't like the other guys I've been with. I don't know what it was about him, but he just gave me an incredible feeling inside."

"Then he bagged you," Nancy finished up the story quickly. "The end."

"No, it is not the end," Clarissa snapped. "We're still seeing each other, matter of fact."

"And what's this mystery guy's name?" I asked, still on the curb, my arms stretched out to keep myself from falling.

All of a sudden, the sound of an engine revving up cranked in the distance and soon headlights came upon us. Everyone else chose to turn around and investigate while I stupidly decided to continue on my balance beam. I could feel the light shining brighter upon my back, but I still faced forward, determined. Then Joyce shouted my name and yanked me away from the road, just as a convertible whizzed past, a car filled with drunken boys making cat calls and kissing noises at us. As it narrowly missed me, one of them reached out an arm and grabbed my beat up brown hat from its perch on my head, leaving my hair in a state of disrepair. I locked eyes with the culprit for a bit before the car had sped off. The blonde boy had a mischievous look on his face as he waved my hat to and fro. My mouth hung open in awe and rage.

How dare they?

"Ohmygawd, Max!" Clarissa squealed.

"What?" Nancy barked as she made her way towards me. "Sweetie, you okay?"

Joyce was holding me right arm while I was still staring off in the distance. "He took my hat."

Joyce and Nancy exchanged a look.

"That was him!" Clarissa said, jumping up and down, her D's bouncing along with her, a hand pointed in the direction of the speeding car. "That was him!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Nancy asked.

"That guy that took your hat, that's Max, the guy I was talking about!" she explained. She abruptly calmed down and let out an evil cackle. "He's insane."

I muttered, "Clarissa, you better call him up. I want to talk to him." Clarissa shot me a suspicious look and I rolled my eyes at her. "Oh, get over yourself. It isn't like that. I just want my hat back."

I stomped off in anger, not bothering to wait for the rest of them.

The bastard had a death wish and I was there to deliver.