Integrating Blake Belladonna into vocals was the easiest part of adding her to QotC, and even that was no fucking picnic.

Choreography had to be almost completely redone from scratch, and it wasn't just Blake who had to learn it. With new positions and movements, Nora, Yang, and Ruby did as well. Vocal parts changed, though the harmonies were all the sweeter now with four. Glynda had to get a rush order for another LED light up dress to compliment the Shine number (though was pleased to find that Blake hated them as much as she did).

Other things were difficult, too. Ice cream runs cost a little bit more. Yang was a little more distracted. Weiss Schnee was taking summer classes, but when her schedule allowed, she would sit in on rehearsals next to Velvet and criticize, criticize, criticize. Glynda began to plan QotC business specifically during the small woman's school hours.

The girls were up at six and working by seven, with enough breaks to keep them happy and healthy, but more than anything, constant run-throughs of the set list. Mirror Mirror, Shine, Boop, Caffeine, I Burn, each different song hitting a different part of what it meant to be a pop group. Ballads and love songs, declarations of independence, fun crush anthems. Songs that Glynda wrote, songs Velvet wrote, and a couple written as a group as the original five women spread out on the floor and brainstormed rhymes and rhythms.

Glynda had promised four weeks to ready her girls. One, two, three, four… a month passed all too quickly, and she was pleased, though not surprised, to find she had estimated right. Twenty-eight days after Blake Belladonna joined, two and a half weeks before the tour began, the girls did a perfect run. Glynda couldn't help a small smile, breaking her stern exterior for a brief minute. Still, despite the minuteness of it, each girl managed to pick up on it. "Yeeee, we did it!" exclaimed Ruby, hugging Nora close.

"You pick stuff up fast," Yang said to Blake with a grin, raising both hands for a high five. "We made a good choice."

"Now, now, ladies, don't celebrate yet," Glynda interjected. Blake's face fell immediately at the words. "We're not going to slack off. The worst is yet to come. I expect nothing less of you than complete competence. Now anyway, let's call the rehearsal quits for the day and have a team meet."

Ruby grinned. "You heard her! Velvet, get over here!"

"You too, Weiss, you're in this whether you like it or not," Yang hollered, a sly smile playing on her face.

The two girls, sitting by the piano initially, quickly made their way over to the forming circle. They sat, knees to knees on the floor, and for a moment, everyone was still, content in the silence. Glynda was loath to break it, but that was, after all, her job. "We have less than a month before we start out on the tour. There's a lot that Remnant Records is taking care of so we don't have to, but there's still things we need to be thinking about. Velvet, Weiss, are you going?"

Velvet nodded once, a confirmation. "It's my job, of course. I'm your publicity agent for real now."

Weiss, on the other hand, seemed unsure. "I signed up for summer classes."

"Oh, too bad…" began Glynda, but found herself interrupted.

"However, if you truly consider me part of this... little outsider's club…" A glance at Glynda, a glance at Velvet. "I insist that I withdraw and accompany you. It won't be a financial problem. I can pay my own way."

Glynda was simultaneously amused at the term "little outsider's club" (if anyone was an outsider, it was only Weiss herself) and annoyed. She didn't need Blake getting distracted by a girlfriend always willing to stir up arguments, as Weiss seemed to be especially good at. However, there was no way to argue it. Weiss was paying for herself, she'd already been promised team status, and… well, Glynda had trouble admitting it even to herself, but she was a good leader, a talented director. She could pick out the minutest issues with a performance and gave criticisms that were often constructive, clever, and tended to address things that Glynda herself couldn't quite voice.

"Very well," Glynda allowed. "Then for room arrangements. There are seven of us now, and Remnant Records has deemed it necessary that we have slightly more palatial accommodations… or rather, apparently it was less expensive to put us all into a suite rather than to get two separate hotel rooms. There are three beds and two rooms in the majority of the rooms. I thought that our obvious pairings could alternate."

"Mom, where will you sleep?"

"The couch. I'm not particularly picky." This was a lie. She was picky. But Glynda Goodwitch was also a manager, and she was more than capable of a few sacrifices. From the look in Ruby's eyes, the girl knew exactly what was going on, but chose not to say anything… perhaps to not call her mother out, perhaps to protect a few coveted nights alone with Velvet.

Glynda continued smoothly. "We'd been planned to be on tour for a month, going all across the west coast of the United States and Canada. However, it's been extended by a week, as Remnant Records is sponsoring a music festival in Vytal and is asking all of its groups with a teen target demographic to make an appearance. That's us, Cinderblock, the Malachites, a few others. It's about three days long, and there is a theme, so we have to learn a new song, and quick."

"What's the theme?" Blake was asking, her voice calm and curious, undaunted by the chore of another number.

"Decades. An overdone theme and a poor excuse Junior concocted to get us to perform a Summer Storm song, no doubt," Glynda muttered. "We've been asked to do nineties."

Ruby tilted her head. "Are we doing a Summer Storm song?"

When Glynda opened her mouth, it was to say no. No, she didn't want to teach her girls how to run through the cheery independent songs that had been burned into her very core so many years ago. No, she didn't want to instruct Ruby to move just like Summer, to sing just like Summer, to be Summer. She didn't want Yang to be Cinder, seductive and cool, or Nora to be in the background, always dancing.

Then Glynda looked to Blake. Blake was talented, and hard-working, and completely unparalleled. Blake had no counterpart; there was nobody who could be compared to her. Blake was the symbol of all the reasons Queens of the Castle weren't Summer Storm.

There were four. The harmonies were different, the dances were different, and the dynamic was different. Glynda gave a slow, sure nod. "Yes. Yes, I believe we are."

She gave the girls a day off and went to see Ozpin. Now that it was summer, the ice cream shop was almost always bustling, but the man always made time for her, if only a couple minutes. Today, he seemed to have a little bit more than that available; Sun had all but finished training Jaune, Blake's replacement, and they and a couple other employees had everything running smoothly.

Ozpin sat across from Glynda and listened to her as she ran over the plan for the coming tour. "It's coming together more smoothly than I ever would have expected," she admitted. "I always looked at Oobleck and Junior and the others when I was in Summer Storm and I didn't envy them. They were busy, they were hectic, they never seemed to catch a break. That's true, I'm sure, but I have it so much easier than I ever thought I would. My girls are great, though."

"I'm sure you, Summer and Cinder were too," Ozpin commented with a smile. "So, you'll be gone for a month?"

Glynda nodded. "A little more than that. We'll be going to a lot of cities, though, many that Summer Storm never got a chance to visit. It's exciting."

"I'll miss you."

"Mm, I'll miss you too," Glynda said, then abruptly froze. Did I say that? Did I mean it? Oh, yes, that was out loud, considering the pleased look on Ozpin's face. Oh, yes, did she mean it, considering the little twinge in her heart when she considered not seeing him for five weeks.

Ozpin laughed. "You don't have to say that just to be nice," he noted.

"I'm not." If I'm going to be up front about what I'm feeling, I'm not going to do it halfway. Still, she couldn't help but look away sheepishly. "I consider you a very good friend, Ozpin, and one of the few people I look forward to seeing. It'll be nice to see you again when we return."

"A very good friend, huh?" He steepled his fingers and leaned towards her. "So much for 'What the fuck do you want from me.'"

Glynda blushed. "That was a very long time ago… hmm, I just realized. I don't know your full name." She had been going for mock angry, but that seemed to be ruined. She mentally facepalmed. She'd been friends with him for over two months now, and she only knew him as Ozpin. She'd never thought to ask for another name.

He smiled. "Most people don't. Anyway, I'm just glad I convinced you that maybe I actually just wanted to get to know you, as normal people do."

The blush on Glynda's face grew even hotter. "I have my reasons for being guarded. Assets, fame, Ruby…"

"I don't doubt it." Ozpin's agreement was amiable and immediate. "However, it didn't work out in my favor, and I'm glad to be done with it."

For a moment, there was a silence that fell over the table, and both listened to the indecipherable din of the customers for a moment. Then, Glynda decided something, the promise tumbling from her lips before she had half a chance to think about it. "I'll call you," she said.

Ozpin blinked. "Are you leaving?"

"No! Not yet! I meant that I'd call you when I'm on tour. I'm sure with bustling from city to city and hotel and hotel it would be nice to be able to touch base with someone from home. Besides, your voice has a singularly unique calming effect."

She couldn't look at him as she said those things; what was wrong with her? Yes, she trusted Ozpin, yes, she liked him. Perhaps he knew that… especially after their rocky start, the man was good with knowing what to say and when to say it. He moved their friendship along at her pace, making her laugh, think, and share in just the right measure. He knew how she felt about him and his friendship. How could he not? He responded to it so perfectly.

Yet, saying it was different. It was a different kind of closeness than she was used to, the one that she used to share with Summer and Cinder, back in the day. Perhaps even Lisa had once held a part of that side of Glynda, but that had even worn off a little in recent years. Getting back into the habit of open communication and heartfelt confessions was odd, and the young woman felt her stomach twist and turn in nervous protest.

As though to prove everything that had flashed through her head in those couple of seconds, Ozpin gave a reassuring smile. "You don't have to explain yourself if you don't want to. I know that doing so isn't always the easiest thing to do, for anyone, let alone you."

"You deserve to know. I wasn't lying. I do consider you a good friend." She laughed, an abrupt and almost forced snort. "There. Let's change the subject now."

Ozpin glanced at his watch and frowned. "I honestly would love to, but I have a lunch date planned with another friend of mine in about five minutes. Can I get a raincheck? How's tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow's fine. I'll let you be, then." Glynda rose, choosing not to ask who he was meeting, if this lunch engagement was a friend date or a real date… the first question's answer would more than likely be someone she didn't know, and the second one seemed uncomfortable even to her. She wouldn't pry into Ozpin's life unless and until he invited her to do so.

As she passed, a firm grip grabbed her wrist and made her stop. Still sitting, Ozpin looked up at her and grinned. "Don't I get an actual goodbye?"

"Oh." She hadn't even said the word, had she? "Goodbye."

"No, no, no." He rose, still clutching her arm, though it was now with a gentle hand. Then, his hands went to her shoulders and gripped them with careful and comforting force. "I'll see you later, Glynda," he said in his amazingly calm tone, his eyes looking into hers with some sort of… something... that she couldn't quite place. "I'll see you tomorrow. Noon?"

"Noon is good," she agreed. "I'll see you then."

He hesitated. Then… "May I hug you?"

She snorted, and felt the corner of her mouth lift up. "Most people don't ask."

"To be honest, you seem untouchable. I'm kind of afraid of what would have happened if I hadn't asked you first."

Glynda Goodwitch didn't answer. Instead, she initiated.

A single moment of surprise on Ozpin's end, then he reciprocated. The hug was quick, less than two seconds… there was no linger to it. Still, Glynda was observant. This wasn't one of her romance books, and she didn't smell musk or leather or even vanilla and coffee beans (and she probably couldn't have identified them even if she did smell them). She did, however, note that whatever Ozpin smelled like, it smelled good. She noticed he was stronger than he looked, that he had some amount of careful force to his hug. When they pulled away from each other, she noticed he was smiling.

"That," he said, "is a proper goodbye between friends."

"I'll keep that in mind," she noted, trying to sound her normal dry self, but the words tumbled out much too quickly. "Anyway, your friend will be here any moment, and…"

"You could stay for a moment longer. She'd be happy to see you, you know."

"Another fan?"

Behind her, the bell that signaled the entrance or exit of a customer chimed, and perhaps out of habit, Ozpin looked over. His smile grew. "See for yourself."

Glynda turned just in time to see Cinder Fall remove her expensive designer sunglasses and stick them into an equally luxurious purse. She was the pinnacle of summer in a hat, tank top, and the shortest shorts Glynda would count as something other than simply a pair of denim panties. Despite the small amount of initial judgment, Glynda had to concede to herself that one, Cinder was a big girl and could decide what to wear for herself, and two, they definitely made her legs look phenomenal.

Cinder sauntered up to the two friends and gave a quick, appraising glance. "Is this a date for three?" she quipped.

It was a quip, right? It didn't hold any of her normal sarcasm, but something like that could only be a joke. Cinder, after all, had said only weeks ago that she was gay, done with boys. This was a friend meetup, and Cinder was making light of it after seeing Glynda there. It all made sense.

"I'm just leaving. Good to see you, Cinder."

"Wait." Cinder's smile was small, but genuine. "I have a couple questions for you, Goodwitch."

That couldn't be good.

"I promise they're not about whatever ridiculous embrace you and Ozpin just concluded," Cinder added, waving her hand dismissively.

"How did you know about–"

"There is a big, glass thing called a window that allows you to see into the shop from the street, and vice versa." Cinder flipped her long, dark ponytail and smirked. "Anyway, I was just wondering what you're doing for your part of the music festival. I know they're pushing a Summer Storm song on you. Are you kowtowing?"

Glynda nodded. "I think the best way to get Junior off my back about recreating our legacy is to show him once and for all in a very public position that my girls are different."

"What song?"

"I was toying with Gold, but I think Ruby might do better with… well…"

Cinder's eyes flickered with comprehension. "She has to know that song."

"Of course. It's her song, after all. Even if she hasn't heard it sung in fourteen years, I think she'll know the moment she gets the lyric sheet." Glynda closed her eyes, thinking. "There would be no better way for them to do a Summer Storm song that separates us from the girls now then for them to do an unreleased song."

"There's plenty of those."

"But this is the one the public knows exists, and have seen lyrics from, even if only in part."

Cinder tilted her head, and the expression on her face was a mixture of admiration and confusion. "Could you bear to teach it?"

An interjection, from Ozpin, who had been quietly listening. "Are you talking about the lullaby Summer wrote?"

Glynda nodded. "Yes," she said. "I am."

Summer's belly made it hard for her to reach the piano keys easily, and Glynda Goodwitch, age sixteen, looked over the woman's shoulder warily. "I can play the music, Summer," she offered. "All you have to do is dictate."

For a moment, Glynda thought the seventeen year old was going to decline. Instead, she gracefully slid over. "That would be wonderful. The music's already written, though, but I want to be able to sing it. Figure out the words." She slid two hands over the baby bump. "I want them to hear me," she whispered conspiratorially.

"They hear you every time we go into the studio to record," Glynda noted.

Summer stuck out her tongue. "This is special! I'm going to sing it for them every day. Though writing the song without knowing the pronouns yet is hard."

"Have you decided on names?"

"For a boy, I'm thinking Roy. For a girl, Ruby."

Not bad names, though alliteration had never been Glynda's thing (she'd been on the receiving end of too many comments for her to ever inflict it on a child of her own). "I like them," she said, surprising herself with honesty, feeling like the names would grow on her.

Summer smiled. She had a glow to her, but it didn't overwrite the uncertainty in her eyes. Summer would never say as much, but Glynda knew that she was frightened. They were both kids, and they were kids who were living on their own after Mr. Rose had all but abandoned them. They were known, and they were both openly bisexual. There were so many things to worry about. Would they be able to care for this child? Protect them from the world that would like to see them hurt? Would Summer and Glynda accidentally be the ones doing the hurting?

No wonder Summer wanted to write her baby a song. She wanted to sing the coming child a promise.

Glynda glanced to the music, and her hands began to move across the piano keys. After a moment, Summer's voice wove into the song. "Long ago, before we met, I dreamed about you…"

"The song was never finished. It's only a couple verses and a chorus."

Glynda hesitated. "I… I wrote more. I finished the song. Summer and I originally wrote it together anyway. I think it's only fitting that I added to it."

Cinder's face was unreadable. "I won't tell you no," she said finally. "It's your thing. Now anyway, Ozpin, don't we have a date?"

That was enough to pique Glynda's curiosity in an unavoidable way… her desire to change the subject didn't hurt much either. "Are you two exclusive?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light.

"Well, I wouldn't say exclusive…" Cinder purred. "This is more of a test drive."

Ozpin deserves better than her. The thought came quick and hard, followed up immediately by another: And why does she want to date him? He's not her type! She needs someone more her speed.

None of your business, Glynda. Stay out of this, she warned herself, and then attempted a smile. "Have fun on your date then, you two. Ozpin, I'll see you tomorrow." Then, after a brief second to contemplate what an abso-fucking-lutely horrible idea this was, she added, "Cinder, we should meet for coffee one day soon. It's been a while since we've been able to talk one on one."

What are your plans? Grill her about her date like you're still best friends, and then ask her not to be mad at you for ruining All Our Days? Sure, that's probably reasonable.

Before she could take it back, Cinder smirked again. "This Sunday, here, ten in the morning. Don't be late, or you're paying for me."

"I won't be late. You two have fun. Now, really. Goodbye."

She managed to keep her composure until she was out the door, then her emotions dropped on her full force. As she fiddled with the keys to her car, she went over everything she'd learned. Ozpin and Cinder were dating? Only they weren't so much dating as going on a date. That was still uncomfortably strange.

Glynda had pegged Ozpin as someone who didn't date, for some reason. She thought he might be like Nora, aromantic and/or asexual. He didn't talk about anyone in a romantic sense; he never had, not in the months of friendship. He'd never made any obvious advances towards her, and he'd definitely never stared at her in all the wrong ways, as many professed "fans" of her did. Somewhere along the line, she assumed he just had no interest in it. It was a crappy assumption to make, and one she did only barely consciously, but somehow it had happened anyway. She made a mental note to fix that, and finally managed to unlock her car.

There was still a sinking feeling in her chest, as though there was something else she should be thinking about, but was missing.

Instead of digging for it, Glynda Goodwitch turned on the radio to a 90's throwback station and began to drive.