Hey guys, I just wanted to say thanks for all of the reviews and support! It means a lot so I'm ever so grateful. :D Also, just to tell y'all: No. I have not given up on Unseen Future or Time Machine. It's just on hiatus until I get my own lap top back which should be in June. So sorry about that... :(Thanks again! And this one I'm planning on making LONG, so you can all throw bouquets and little chocolates at me and my kindness ;)

Chapter Ten

Cammie Morgan~Magnet Studios~

"Cameron Morgan," I never heard my name sound so icy, dripping with distaste off this woman's lips. Her office was dull, no evidence of vibrant colors or certain interests. The walls were colored a depressing burgundy with black painted wooden floors. I noticed several empty Starbucks coffee cups in the trash can beside the door. She must've been a strong coffee drinker; working until late hours in the night with all of that caffeine.

I steadied my breathing as I stalked over to the empty chair on the opposite side of her desk. She watched me like I was her prey, walking so easily onto enemy territory.

"I was expecting your mother," Marissa Goode commented with a smirk that reminded me so much of her 'son'. Her dark red hair was pulled back into a tight bun, loose wisps of hair hung loosely by her cheeks, making her look distressed. She wore a pinstripe suit, arms crossed on her desk. I guess she was in no mood for Bull Crap. Too bad. Cause' that's what I'm giving her.

"Learning the ropes, and all that," I said simply. I surprised myself at sounding very stoic with the briefcase in my hand.

"It figures. I can never rely on that woman. So, she send me her prostitute daughter to talk business," she laughs breathlessly, no humor in the tone, as if it was forced.

I bit my tongue to keep from saying something I might regret and pulled up the suitcase to sit in between us on the desk. "Just sign these documents for the insurance company," I handed her a packet that I thought might explode, it was so thick.

"Very well," she said and began to read through the papers. I thought about something witty I could say, to keep a conversation going to distract her from noticing the ruckus caused by Phase Two of the plan. I so desperately wanted to run out of this office and make sure everyone was okay, seeing as I couldn't communicate with them until later. I wanted to feel Zach's warm hand in mine, creating shivers from where we touched. I wanted to intoxicate myself with his musky scent of shampoo and soap. I just wanted everything to be uncomplicated. I wish all the time that we were a normal couple that fell in love at first sight (even though I never believed in 'love at first sight' until I experienced it myself). I wish that our parents weren't enemies, I wish our father's were alive.

As Marissa Goode looked through the large packet, my thoughts drifted off into a fantasy.

I wore a white gown, a veil covering my face. I had purple flowers in my hair, purple flowers in the bouquet, an amethyst stone shaped into a heart hanging around my neck by a silver chain. I felt so elegant with the long white train flowing behind me as I walked down the empty aisle, my godfather taking my hand. All of the pews were vacant, my heart was pounding. Macey and Bex stood around the alter, grinning at me. Petite Liz carried my train. Grant and Derek stood by another figure, too blurry to see who it was, though I had an idea.

I turned to see Jonas playing soft notes as the piano vibrated to life. Uncle Joe squeezed my hand tired, not wanting to let me go as a priest gestured his cue to leave me beside the blurry figure.

I glanced at Macey and Bex. Bex gave me an adoring smile, mouthing 'Good Luck' to me. Macey gave a small wave and I noticed the big rock on her finger, the $45,000, customized ring that Derek said he would propose to her with. I guess that went well. But today wasn't about them. It wasn't about a rivalry between our disputing families. The only ones who knew the truth were present, and that's all that mattered.

The blurry figure started to become clearer and clearer as the priest went on, reciting vows. But his voice shattered the non-existent smeared wall between us and I looked into Zachary Goode's eyes as he said, "I do."

Everything else in my life became insignificant. Everything that mattered before was obsolete compared to the love I saw so clearly in his eyes. My one love's eyes. "I do." I vowed when it was my turn. Zach took my hand, sending my whole body into overdrive by his lingering touch as he slid the most gorgeous ring onto my finger.

He took the ends of the veil in his hands and threw it behind me so it traveled all the way down my back. "I love you Zach," the words came out of my mouth before he could kiss me, as the priest said we could.

"I love you too," Zach whispered into my ear and kissed me soundly, cheers erupting behind us. The kiss felt real, even for a fantasy. His scent wafted through my nose, making my want and desires thirst for more.

When Zach pulled away, he opened his mouth to speak, but a different voice spoke, "You look lovely today, Mrs. Goode."

I was shaken out of my too-good fantasy to see Zach's cousin, Archie (Zach said his real name is Archibald), kissing up to his aunt. She grunted a thank you, continuing to read through the packet.

Archie eyed me, looking me up and down, making me squirm uncomfortably in my seat. "Hey, I'm Archie. I don't think we were properly introduced at that last meeting," he held out a hand. When I didn't take it he yanked his arm back to his side. His floppy black hair was gelled back. Sunglasses that looked a little too feminine for any guy, was hanging half-in half-out of his V-Neck muscle shirt.

I remembered my mother's saying, "If they wear collared shirts, they're straight. If they wear a V-Neck that shows a bare chest instead of chest hair, they're gay." I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

Then, I remembered my fantasy of Zach, remembering that I fantasized purple flowers, purple almost everything, besides my white gown. Then I remembered why.

I wore a purple tank top on one of the hottest days in Los Angeles for this year, Spring was finally coming.

Zach saw me arrive at the top of the dome where we decided to meet that day, engulfing me in a hug.

"Well hey, you," I laughed and he just held me closer. "Is something wrong?" I asked after he didn't let go of his strong hold on me.

He finally pulled away slightly, looking me in the eyes, "You look so beautiful," he gave a sheepish, sexy grin that melted my heart.

"Oh really? Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Goode," I wrapped my arms around his neck, playing with the soft brown hair that curled slightly in the back.

His hands around my waist tightened as he leaned his forehead against mine, "You're wearing purple again."

I gave a confused look so he elaborated, "You wore that purple dress the first night we met. You looked so beautiful and sexy," he grinned.

I laughed a bit with him, although the words filled me with joy. No one ever called me beautiful. I knew my mother was beautiful but no one ever thought of me as anythign but plain.

"Really?" I asked stupidly.

"Cammie, you are the most beautiful girl I've ever met," my heart fluttered at his words, his fingers circling the exposed skin at the hem of my shirt. He leaned in closer, "And I love you in purple. I'll never forget the day we met because of that purple dress," he said and buried his face into the crook of my neck, breathing in my own scent as he did.

"Then I'm glad I'm glad I didn't go with the skanky blue dress."

"All is clear," Mrs. Goode suddenly said, breaking me from the memory, as if it was yesterday instead of a mere two weeks ago. "I will sign everything that is listed."

I nodded, watching her sign the various dotted lines. I noticed Archie must have left while I was in my daze, since he was no longer in sight.

Suddenly, a walkie-talkie on the desk started to fill the room with static as frantic calls back and forth erupted. I made out one single line that was my cue, "Send in reinforcements, there has been a fight in the lounge."

Mrs. Goode looked up from her papers and was reaching for it.

Maybe it was too bold. Maybe it wasn't the smartest thing to do. But I asked her anyways, "How is your son?"

She froze midway from the walkie-talkie and looked over at me. "What son?"

I had the urge to cringe, to defend my boyfriend but resisted. "Um, Zach, I think. I heard he was disinherited after he destroyed my company," I hope there was disgust and rage in my voice.

"You heard correct, but it is none of your business," she said and I grinned.

"Oh, but it is. Like I said, he destroyed my company," she frowned, narrowing her eyes in defeat, "So tell me, how is he?"

I just wanted to see what she would say, if there was a sense of loss that she felt without Zach, her only son. If she still loved him, though I doubted it.

"That boy is no longer a son of mine, therefore his whereabouts do not concern me," she smirked, "He's just another loose end that can be ignored."

I wanted to punch her, kick her in the gut, stab her boob. SOMETHING! How could she say that? How could she not even be willing to believe her own son that he didn't commit any crime. How could she not defend him? She was too willing to kick him out on the street, as far as I know.

I was about to grab the pepper-spray from my briefcase when a gunshot echoed throughout the glass building. We froze, listening to the wlakie-talkie as a voice said, "Man down! Man down! Call 911, get the paramedics her NOW!"

That's when I knew the darkest day of my life would begin.

I sat in the ICU's waiting area. Macey was sobbing into my shoulder, Bex and Grant sat together, staring off into space at the turn of events. Liz and Jonas took the van after dropping us off, going to tell Uncle Joe how our plan failed. Miserably. The safe, the last piece of evidence we had, was now being demolished in Zach's old office. But the worst part of the plan failing? Derek getting shot in the back, dangerously close to his spinal cord since he jumped in front of Macey, back turned, to hold her and protect her one last time.

The doctors said he might become paralyzed, but they won't know for sure until he gets out of surgery. That is, if he makes it out of surgery.

Tears poured down my cheek. My brother figure, my best guy friend could be dead in a couple of hours. When the doctors cut open his clothes, they found the ring. When they gave it to Macey. She lied before, telling them that she was his fiance, just so she could sit beside him as they prepped him before surgery. But when they gave her the velvet box with the engagement ring inside, telling her they found it in his jean pocket, she broke down.

I've never seen my cousin as sad and crippled as she was now, even when my dad died. Then it dawned on me.

Today is the same day my father died. It could very well be the same day we would mourn for Derek.

I held my cousin tighter, letting each other grieve together. For my dad, and Derek.

It was two hours later and Derek was still in surgery. The tears had dried up, becoming sudden intakes of breaths or sniffles.

Macey sat quietly beside me, looking down at the ring between her thumb and index finger, her other thumb tracing the engraved words, "Love you wherever we are," on the silver band. The words felt way too appropriate for the situation, too grave. I wanted to scream at the irony in this world.

"I would've said yes," Macey whispered that I almost didn't hear it.

"What?" I asked.

"When he would have proposed, I would've said yes," her voice cracked and a single tear rolled down her cheek and rolled off her nose as she looked down at the words.

"Macey-"

"We could have had a family, Cam," she cut me off. I stayed silent, letting her words process in my mind. "I never wanted to admit this but...I always wanted to start a family. And he was the only one I could picture that family with. I wanted him to be the father of my kids, ya know?" she laughed but I sensed no humor. The sound was dead.

"That can still happen, Mace. Once he gets through this-"

"No! Stop. I know he won't make it. You don't have to tell me he will, getting my hopes up. It's too much heartbreak," she said covering her once beautiful, flawless face. She was now flushed, blood-shot eyes. But that didn't matter.

There was no way to comfort her, to make her feel better. The only one who could do that was Derek.

So I said, "Derek, you douche bag, you better get through this unless if you want Hell from the Morgan women."

Zach had been waiting outside in the limo for the past five hours since we arrived at the hospital. I told everyone that I would go check on him since he couldn't really leave, just in case he was noticed.

Down the hall with beeping heart monitors for the sickest of patience. Down the elevator. Down, down, down, it went until it arrived at the garage. It seemed like my whole life was taking a downward plunge. Down to a filthy, stained, dark, garage.

I spotted the limo a few aisles down. Car after car. The limo was already open when I reached it, opening the door by the cold handle instead of waiting for the chauffeur to realize I was there. I made myself comfortable on the leather seat, wiping at my eyes before looking up at the artificially-blond haired boy.

We were silent for God knows how long. Just thinking to ourselves, or rather communicating with each other through unspoken words. It was so easy to talk and say things like 'I'm sorry' or 'Hope he gets better', because hoping doesn't create results. Sure, it's nice to have faith, it's nice to keep the spirit alive to lessen the blow. But if you want a miracle as bad as I wanted, you don't just sit on your butt and do nothing but think of all the good memories you shared with your almost-brother.

So that's why we sat in silence, trying to plan our next move. Should we tell our mothers about the plan? Should we tell them that Zach is innocent? Should we tell them about us? We both thought that we could get away with being with each other until the time was right, which would've been soon, and move as far as possible from Los Angeles. Create new lives and be with each other in ease. No one had to know. No one needed to know. But that plan ended right when I saw my mother cry for the first time since my father died. And, in a way, he died again that night of the incident. Not physically, but in our memories.

We could build Magnet Studios over and over again until we're broke, but the memories that the old studio had of my father, burned away into ash. Despite popular belief, it wasn't just Zach that I was trying to save by finding out the real perpetrator, even though it's a big part of it, but also because I wanted closure. I needed closure. Now Derek's life hung on the line because of it. And maybe that's why Zach said, "It's my fault he's dying."

I blinked, my chest hurting with every breath, "It was never your fault...None of it."

He stared at me from the seat across from me in the leather, decked out (It was Bex's) limo. "I should've done this alone. It might have been a better plan just for me to go. Go unseen."

It was hard for me, even with his fake blond hair, to see Zach going unseen. I was the one who could disappear from sight. It was me who could pass for plain and go by unnoticed. Ruggedly handsome Zach could never. "You know that wouldn't have worked. You were nearly spotted."

I remembered as I ran down the stairs instead of the elevators of Golden Studios after the gunshot was fired.

Finally, reaching the lounge I saw police holding back a crowd. Paramedics swarming all over, shouting orders as they went back and forth from the lounge to the drop off in front where the ambulance was parked. Macey was fighting paramedics, telling them she wouldn't leave his side. Bex was crying into Grant's arm who later took off his employee uniform and disguise as a janiter. And through it all, I saw Uncle Joe-Joe Solomon-leaning against a pillar, watching the scene play out.

I heard the buzzing sounds of a walkie talkie with Liz and Jonas yelling into it, trying to get someone to answer. I turned and there was Zach, blue eyes and blond hair, looking horror struck. Usually I was the emotional one and he was stoic. But our positions switched as he filled the space between us a nuzzled his face into my neck. I felt hot tears streak down my face when I realized Derek's critical state. Soon, I was the one who was being comforted.

"Zach...w-what happened? What went wrong?" I asked quietly to never get an answer.

"Cameron..." I heard a voice behind me and twisted in Zach's arms to face Archie.

"Archie?" I asked and Zach looked up, his whole body tensing, his arms still wrapped around my waist.

"I just wanted to say that we're sorry for what happened to your clients bodyguard while you were in Golden Studios. The man is being arrested," he said politely. He must not know about Derek and my cousin.

"It's fine..." I trailed off, remembering how unimportant Zach was to his mom, how important was he to Archie?

"Is this your boyfriend?" Archie asked suspiciously, squinting his eyes at Zach.

"Huh? Oh, no, this is my brother," I said hastily. My brother? Brother? Really, now?

Zach glanced at me from the corner of his eye.

"Oh, okay. Well here's my number. Call me tomorrow," he said and handing me a piece of paper and glancing suspiciously at Zach again. How inconsiderate was he?

I stormed toward the closest trash can and disposed of the little piece of paper with the number on it, saying 'call me babe'. I collapsed onto one of the chairs in the lounge as they tried to get Derek onto a stretcher, and cried along with everyone else. Silent tears compared to the commotion of bystanders.

Zach rubbed my back, standing beside me. I glanced up at him a moment to see him staring out at the scene. He was looking across the lounge at his mother who was asking the Head of Security at Golden Studios about the status, when she met his gaze. Then mine.

"I'll go get the car so we can follow the ambulance to the hospital," Zach whispered and I nodded, heading over to Macey within the midst of the crowd.

I was pulled out of the memory to hear Zach reply, "I should've gotten there first. Derek deserves life more than I do."

The anger boiled up inside of me at his words. "Don't dare say that, Zach. Don't you freaking dare."

He clenched and unclenched his fists, grinding his teeth and said, "I'm going to be locked up in a jail cell after this anyways, might as well die," he was closer than I thought. Close enough to me anyways.

So, I slapped him across the face, leaving a red mark on his cheek as he turned his face back to face me, "What the HELL WAS THAT?"

"I don't need you saying crap like that when everything else is screwed up!" I yelled and lowered my voice, "if you go to prison, I go to prison. You get the death penalty, I swear I'd rather join you in death than live without you. Knowing you weren't supposed to die." I didn't realize I started crying again. I guess after hours of sobbing, you fell numb and lose the feel of it. All of the uncertainty that comes with it too.

Zach's glare softened into one that twisted in pain, taking hold of one of my hands firmly, but ever so gentle. "Don't die for me Cammie. It's not worth it. You're too-"

"Don't say I'm too good for you," I interrupted him, "Because I'm not. I love you Zach and that's all that matters to me," he looked back up at me, communicating to me with his eyes, even if I couldn't see their natural color. "Don't blame yourself for what happened to Derek..." my breath caught in my throat, making that last sentence crack.

"Runaway with me, Cammie," Zach said after a period of silence.

"Zach..." I said shaking my head, running a hand through his blond hair, parting it a bit so I could see the dark brown roots.

"Please, Cammie. We don't have to die. We could get away and stay away. Derek will get out of this, I know it. And once we're gone, everything will go back to normal. Everyone would be safe. Sure there would still be the rivalry, but we won't be a part of that feud," his eyes pleaded with me, his hand pulled the loose wisps of hair from my face.

"I...I can't," I wanted to throw up. I was suddenly so dizzy, the limo swerving, everything spinning around me.

Zach looked so broken, his hand trembling in mine. I would never know what Zach would have done next, but then, my godfather knocked on the limo door, waiting for us to unlock it since the limo driver fell asleep in the front.

I broke Zach's intense gaze, unlatching the lock on the door for Solomon to slide into the empty seat beside me.

"Our last piece of evidence is gone, Zach," my godfather said with a heavy sigh.

"I know," Zach said, his elbows resting on his knees, covering his face with his calloused hands.

"And what are you lovers gonna to about it?" he asked with an eyebrow raised. Any other time I would've blushed at the word 'lovers' because technically, we weren't 'lovers', yet.

"What can we do, Solomon? Plead not guilty? What if the story never even goes out to the media? Life could still go on," Zach said through raging eyes. I flinched a bit, as if the fire in his eyes was directed at me. It probably was.

"Do you want to take that chance, Zach?" Uncle Joe asked with his arms crossed.

He looked directly at me when he said, "I've got nothing to lose."

Derek was out of surgery. He was hooked up to different monitors, a variety of medications, locked up in a big room in the ICU (Intensive Care Unit) with a big one-way see through window.

Bex and Grant left once he came out of surgery a little over thirty minutes ago, going to meet Jonas and Liz to fill them in. So, I was alone. Looking through the glass from the other side as my cousin tugged at the blanket that covered Derek. She would adjust his pillow every few minutes, wiping away silent tears. I saw her lips moving slightly, I guess she was trying to talk to him, seeing if he could hear her. She held his hand with her own, the other gripping onto the velvet box. She stared at it as she talked, a small glitter of hope showing through her crystal blue eyes.

I heard footsteps coming up behind me, but didn't care to see who it was.

"He's a tough Marine. He'll get through this," a strong voice said. I turned around to see a man in a uniform, hands behind his back, staring expectantly at me, as if he wanted me to say 'oh yeah! Of course he'll come out of his coma in NO time!'. "I'm General Sanders. Trained that boy myself since day one."

I nodded, hardly registering his words. It didn't even matter to me that he was a Two-Star General of the U.S. Marine Corps.

"He survived my boot camp, like hell he can survive this," he said with a slight laugh in his voice.

"The doctors say it's a fat chance," I muttered bitterly.

"They didn't know the boy personally. Did that kid tell you he was getting the Medal of Honor for his service in Afghan?"

I snapped my head back to face him, "No. He never did. He was only hear for two days before this happened."

The General snorted, "It confuses me why that boy could save his entire platoon with out a single scratch and get home safely from a Hell-ish war zone, then end up getting shot by some stupid gang member from Los Angeles," he shook his head as if something was hillarious. None of it humored me.

"Damn irony," I spat under my breath and he erupted in a fit of laughter.

"Just what I thought. So how are you related to kid?" General Sanders asked leaning against the glass. Somehow that gesture didn't seem all that 'General of top quality manners' like.

"He's my cousin's fiance. I've known him for eight years. He's practically my brother," I said, willingly giving this man information. It surprised me too.

"Ah, so he is a ladies man, just like I suspected from the kid," he laughed again. "He kept telling the other men that there was a special girl in his life. At first I thought that might be you. Until I saw your cousin-I assume-right in there."

I followed his gaze to catch a glimpse of Macey adjusting his pillow again, bringing his limp hand to her lips.

"Why are you here? Don't you have important 'general' stuff to do?" I asked, realizing I kind of sounded bitchy.

"Well, yes, but the kid is one of the best we have, and I was notified about what happened earlier this evening," That's when I realized that the memorial already started for my father, "Tell the kid when he gets up that he's still getting the medal. Just meet the President of the United States at 3PM on April 25th in Wshington D.C. at the White House. Can you remember that?" but he didn't wait for my answer as he saluted towards Derek and disappeared out of the ICU double doors.

I thought about everything. I thought about it when I left the hospital at midnight last night, leaving Macey there to call us if anything happened.

i thought about how General Sanders saluted to a lower rank. I thought about how nobility wasn't a factor in life, just if you've lived life well. I thought about how, if Derek died, he would've gone out in honor, as a person who lived to his full potential.

Here, in L.A, I wasn't living my potential. Maybe I was waiting for an excuse like this to get away. But, it was so much more than that.

I thought about how much I love Zachary Ex-Goode. I thought about how he might've said that he had nothing to lose, but I do. I have a whole lot to lose. And I needed to cut those ties loose. I needed to do the right thing to keep my friends safe. I need to keep the rest of my studio, my father's memory, safe.

So that's why, I've decided.

"Zach...I want to runaway with you."

This chapter was...iffy to me. Leave a review anyways? TAKE THE POLL PLEASE! I'm closing it...I think today, right? Hmm...okay. Thanks again!

~Akira