Chapter 3: Things Are Looking Up

A/n: Okay, I have a new rule for you all to try and remember: it applies to when they are reading their lines or are singing. When you read something like this "'La la la'" that means they are singing, but if it's like this: "'La la la'" that means they're talking. Got it? Italics with extra quote singing; plain with extra quote reading lines.

Bitter was my cup, but no more will I be the mourner, for I've certainly turned the corner... Oh things are looking up!

– – – – – – –

Sleep came surprisingly easily to Sydney that night, even after the difficult decision for a getting-over-Vaughn attempt. It was a deep, dreamless sleep, and she woke feeling rested nonetheless. Hurriedly she dressed appropriately for a dance class and headed out the door, turning to the right to the end of the hall; she pushed open the door and found herself in a teacher lounge type room. There was a large, rectangular table in the center and cabinets and counters surrounded it along the walls. Upon the counters were trays of food, a toaster, and a microwave, and at the end of the counters was a large off-white refrigerator.

Eric Weiss was the only other person in the room, and he sat in the first available seat with his back to the door. He munched slowly on his cereal, what looked to be frosted flakes, and turned his head slightly at hearing the door open. "Happy Tuesday," he greeted, still chewing.

Sydney greeted him back and headed over to the counter. She inspected the choices in front of her – consisting of cereal, bagels, bread, and various fruits – and settled on toast. She popped two pieces into the toaster and turned around, leaning back on the linoleum counter to talk to Weiss. "Last night I decided that you were right," she started, immediately regretting her choice of words.

"Well, I am always right, aren't I?"

"Shut-up. I mean I decided I'd try to get over Vaughn. I really want to focus on this mission, that's exactly what I plan to do. Once we're in New York, I'll be Sophia, he'll be Chris, and we'll be complete strangers."

He lifted his bowl to slurp the milk. "That's good. I'm proud of you," he said sincerely. As he slurped up his milk, her bread finished toasting, and she proceeded to spread on strawberry jam, her favorite. "So already I'm pumped for my apartment in New York. I was bored out of my mind last night in that stupid room after the meeting."

"You could have come over and hung out with me," she countered, sitting down next to him.

"I thought about it... But I was afraid Jack would catch me or something. He's scary." Sydney laughed at him. "I'm ready for some night life, and some real furniture, and some beer... But of course, that's probably why my wife left me in the first place." Sydney set her toast back onto the paper plate and eyed him curiously. "Sorry, just getting into my alias."

She nodded. "Oh, right, I forgot Nicolas Chesaning was divorced. Aren't you supposed to have a kid, too? How's that going to work?"

Weiss stood with his bowl and raised his eyebrows high into his forehead. "One weekend a month I "fly to Syracuse" to visit my seven-year-old son because the ex has custody. They're really just going to drive me to some other apartment a few miles outside the city. Don't miss me too much while I'm gone."

"I'm sure I won't." She bit off the last bit of jellied toast before the black, crispy crust. She watched Weiss carry his bowl to a sink previously hidden behind the gigantic fridge. It was moments like these that gave her happiness these days; just when she and her friend could talk of nothing and still manage to have a good time. She sighed in content. "Well, I have to go my dance lesson now. I shall see you later, Mr. Chesaning."

"Adieu, Miss Smith."

She tossed her plate into the garbage as Weiss ventured through the plate of bagels, most likely in search of the cinnamon sugar kind. She got into the elevator and ascended to the fourth floor where the dance studios were located. There were two, one on each side of the hallway, and she headed into room 1A as her schedule assigned.

She opened the door and stepped inside. The floors were a polished wood of light color, and the walls that weren't mirrored were white as was the ceiling. Parts of the mirrors were covered with posters from musicals, and others with regular family photographs, which she thought was a sweet touch.

"You must be Sydney!" a cheery voice spoke from behind her. She quickly spun around and discovered a thin bald man, possibly in his twenties, wearing black pants and tight black t-shirt. "I'm Gabriel, I'll be your instructor for these three weeks," he added, protruding his hand for Sydney to shake. "Have you ever tap-danced before?"

"Yeah. I remember some basic stuff from when I was younger; I used to take classes."

"Great! Well, I guess we'll start with some more advanced moves, and then I'll start showing you the choreography on Finale." He then leaned in and whispered, "We kind of spied on the choreographer, and now we can give you agents a jump-start on learning the dances for auditions."

They worked for nearly two hours. The first hour was spent remembering old moves and learning new ones, and the second hour was spent learning the steps for the Finale of the musical.

Sydney enjoyed her time with Gabriel as he was funny and kind, but soon it was time for lunch and Sydney rushed back to her room for a quick shower before grabbing a sandwich from the empty teacher-lounge-room. All the breakfast food had seemed to disappear over that two hour course and was replaced by lunch items. Sydney guessed the CIA provided the food for them and it was brought up to their floor.

She quickly braided her wet hair and went back to the elevator to the fifth floor for her singing lessons. She walked into her assigned room and found an older woman playing absent-mindedly at the piano. She didn't seem like she was paying much attention to anything, her eyes wandering the room and her head not bobbing in tempo, but the music was phenomenal.

When she finally noticed Sydney staring at her, she abruptly stopped, catching Sydney's attention. "Well, come in, child, don't be shy." Sydney gave her a small smile and stepped forward towards to piano. The woman drew in her breath slowly and stared at Sydney's eyes for a while. "You're the one they tell me can already sing well." Sydney opened her mouth to protest, but something about the expression on her face told her not to say anything; she instead nodded sheepishly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. Take pride in the things you do well. I am Rose, Rose Callaway."

Rose's gray hair pulled back loosely into a bun on the top of her head, a few wisps sticking out comfortably. She had deep crow's feet beside her eyes and shallow bags under her eyes. There was something about this woman that Sydney found oddly captivating, perhaps her brisk, raspy voice or the way she looked like she owned the room. But Sydney either felt completely under her control or completely terrified of her.

"Stand here," she demanded before coughing, striking a simple G chord on the piano after pointing to the music stand next to her. Sydney moved to the spot and peered through the sheets of music in front of her. She read titles like "Could You Use Me," "Someone to Watch Over Me," "I Got Rhythm," and "Naughty Baby."

Rose cleared her throat. "You are to study and practice all these pieces, are we clear? This week is voice exercises only. When I am not here you will work with Mr. Davidson, and you will obey him as you would obey me." Sydney nodded curtly, unsure of this peculiar woman in front of her.

They proceeded to warm up Sydney's voice and perform several scales. Rose seemed as impressed with Sydney's hardly off-key singing as she would be with a talking three-month-old elephant. And as Sydney gathered her music to leave, she knew she'd have a tough three weeks with Rose Callaway. But there was always hope of this Mr. Davidson.

– – – – – – –

She grew to learn that she was wrong over the three weeks: Mr. Davidson was worse. It wasn't his strict style of teaching, because he wasn't strict at all, nor was it his strong tone of voice, because he hardly spoke. He was, however, the most boring teacher Sydney could possibly have met in her life. The occasional days with Mr. Davidson were far and few, but the moment she would see his round fleshy face and his short red hair she would immediately dread the coming two hour lesson. She didn't understand how they managed to accomplish anything during their time together, seeing as Sydney practically fell asleep.

Her mornings were her favorite part of the day. Gabriel was by far her favorite of the three teachers, always happy and cheerful and dancing even when music wasn't playing. At times during their tapping he would sing along with the music always creating a smile on Sydney's face. The dancing was simply fun.

She specifically enjoyed the mornings of dance when she would walk in during Vaughn's time and see him sweating away at a difficult tap step in his black suit pants and a white undershirt. But no, she would remind herself as she stretched out, I'm getting over him. He's just another actor. Though she had to admit he looked exceptionally yummy in his undershirt.

Although she did remember one singing lesson with Mr. Davidson that was rather enjoyable. She and Weiss had shared time together and they just happened to have Mr. Boring as their instructor. They worked on the song 'Nice Work If You Can Get It' and found ways to amuse each other when they weren't singing. They had played many rounds of tic-tac-toe and several profane games of Hangman to pass the time, all of which went unnoticed by the teacher.

This morning in particular, her last day of training in Detroit, she walked slowly towards the dance studio 1A as she had every morning before for the past three weeks with the exception of Sundays. She reveled in how she would be getting her apartment in New York soon. She would be moving in tomorrow, as would Weiss in his complex. She learned at the meeting that had been held last night that Lauren and Vaughn would be moving in there today as to not cause suspicion. It would be weird if they all moved into the same complex on the same day.

She would miss her breakfasts and evenings with Weiss, she knew, a routine she had fallen into even though they didn't do much but complain about the singing instructors and check out random websites on the internet. Sydney kept mostly to herself apart from that over the course of their training. But it was part of her assignment to befriend her coworkers, and her new apartment would be decked out with more electronics, so she would be soon entertained and busy.

Right before her hand clasped around the doorknob to open the studio door, it pulled back away from her and she and Lauren Reed nearly collided. The women stood awkwardly blinking for a moment before Lauren whispered, "Excuse me," and Sydney stepped aside, her lips pursed tightly. She glared at Lauren's back as she traipsed down the hall to the elevator, finally making her way into the studio.

"That was an ugly confrontation," Gabriel noted as he spied Sydney's clenched fists and tight cheeks. He scratched his newly shaved head. "Care to share, honey?" he asked, patting the ground next to him as he stretched out.

Sydney settled down cross-legged and spilled her views on the events of the past weeks prior to training. He listened intently and showed full emotion upon hearing of her disappearance and how the man she had loved had married when she returned. She finished by telling him that she, however, no longer cared and that he was just history. She even added an arm crossing and pointed her nose into the air.

"That's the sprit! As my boyfriend always says, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em."

Sydney grinned at him, and they proceeded to work on the choreography for 'Naughty Baby.' When they sadly finished their session before lunch, he gave her a bear hug and kissed her on the cheek, exclaiming that he'd come see her in the show, that he'd miss talking with her everyday, and that she'd have to keep in touch with him.

After her usual quick shower and sandwich, she groaned as she dreadfully made her way to the fifth floor. She had a feeling in her gut that Mr. Davidson would be her final instructor, so she was genuinely surprised to find Rose pounding away at the piano. Each time Sydney walked in and was serenaded by Rose's melodies, she forgot how this woman was to the point, abrasive, and at times, downright rude. Her music would make Sydney calm and at ease constantly, drowning her in Bach, Mozart, Tchaikovsky, or her own improvisations. The spectacular perfection of her beautiful tunes left Sydney simply speechless.

Rose didn't quit after she noticed Sydney in the room this time. She kept playing, and perhaps let a minute grin escape from her lips before closing her eyes and getting lost in the piece. When she struck the final chords, shivers trickled down Sydney's legs and she couldn't help but applaud. That was when Rose snapped back to her usual self and stared at Sydney in her manner of reading, causing Sydney to stop. She stepped forward to the music stand with more confidence than usual despite the fact that they had long ago ditched the music sheets. "'I Got Rhythm,'" Rose stated in a sigh. "From the top."

Sydney stood up to her full height and quickly cleared her throat. "'Days can be sunny, with never a sigh/'"

"Watch that flat in there!"

"'Don't need what money can buy/'"

"Louder!"

"'Birds in the trees sing their day full of song / Why shouldn't we sing along?'"

"Slower..."

Sydney grew happy when she noticed only ten minutes left in their frustrating session. Rose, on the contrary, seemed to want to stay and work with Sydney until the wee hours of the morn.

"Project, Sydney, project!" she continued to demand from her song. "You're going to need to be louder when you're on stage, for goodness sake!" Sydney sighed and relaxed her back muscles. It was useless, she'd never please the almighty ruler. "They won't believe you're an actress if you don't sing like an actress."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And if you won't sing like you're an actress then why am I even bothering with you?" Sydney's face dropped. She had worked as hard as she possibly could to improve for this... this awful witch only to get yelled at! And she had such a great morning with Gabriel, she should have known Rose would ruin her day. Finally, she lifted her head and found Rose waiting expectantly. "That wasn't a rhetorical question, child."

Why was she bothering working with Sydney? Because the CIA hired her to and if she didn't she'd suffer major consequences? "Why then? Why are you bothering with me?" she asked in exasperation.

"Because you have the talent." Sydney blinked. Did Rose just compliment me? she asked herself, quite sure she heard Rose wrong. She looked back at her inquisitively, her brow furrowed, noticing that Rose seemed serious. She had just complimented Sydney, something she had never expected from such a harsh woman. "Back in my prime I was starring in Broadway hits left and right. And do you know how I got there? I acted like I belonged there even I knew damn well I didn't. I may be a great singer, but I was born to play piano; my passion. But my point is if you don't act like a diva in Milan when you're on stage then you certainly shouldn't be up there in the first place."

Sydney stared back at her in shock. Wow. She was not expecting that at all. Rose continued despite Sydney's near cardiac arrest. "Remember that, and to watch those few accidentals in 'I Got Rhythm' and 'Embraceable You' and you should be ready for the spotlight. I believe we're done."

Sydney swallowed hard and nodded, still in awe. She stood up in a daze and slowly approached the door. But no! She couldn't just exit after that huge spiel! She turned in the doorway and watched as Rose idly gazed upon the pictures beside her along the wall. Sydney had noticed them before, but she had never thought to study them. She silently crept closer, squinting to see them in full detail, and she stopped when the piano would allow her no nearer.

The pictures were old looking, faded in slight, but otherwise well preserved. They were of an actress, it was that type of picture, but the actress was someone she vaguely recognized. Not someone that she had seen in an old movie, but someone that she had absolutely seen before... "That's you?" Sydney asked.

Rose nodded slowly, as if reminiscing. "Yes."

"And that one on the stage... That's you on Broadway?"

She smiled immediately this time. "Yes. I loved the stage, and it loved me back. But singing wasn't for me. It was the piano that called."

Sydney leaned in, amused to have a civil conversation with this woman. "And who are those other girls with you? You're cast mates?"

"No, my sisters. I'm in the middle, and my older sister, Lily, is on the left, and my younger sister, Daisy, is on the right." She sighed. "But what I wouldn't give to be back on the stage with them again." She smiled, closing her eyes, and Sydney wanted to feel her current memory. But she opened her eyes again, turning away from the picture to cough heavily. "But things change. You can't always go back to the way things used to be."

Rose promised her that she'd succeed in New York, and Sydney finally left. But it suddenly wasn't her speech about singing that she pondered, it was her last explanation of the pictures...

"... But things change. You can't always go back to the way things used to be..."

How well Sydney knew these words, Rose would never know. But all things aside, Sydney had a better attitude towards the mission, and she grew anxious for moving tomorrow. New York City, here I come.

A/n: Hmm, that chapter turned out much better than I thought it would. I'm quite please with it, and I hope you are the same. Please review and tell me what you thought!