Chapter 24

To say this wasn't fascinating would be the biggest lie of her life. Jude sat with narrowed eyes, peaked interest, and perked ears on the big couch in G-Major's lobby, hoping not to get noticed as she spied on Tommy. Yesterday's issue of the New York Times which she'd filched from the accountant's office served as a handy prop. Nearby, at the reception, Tommy, whom she had barely talked to since he had stayed the night at her place, which as of today was four weeks ago, was having an animated discussion – to put it nicely – with one of his artists.

Aaron, the bassist, dumb enough to dare and show up late for work, had underlined his own stupidity by arguing that Tommy showed up late all the time. Mr. Vice President didn't care if for anybody else's schedule, held Aaron. "Because Mr. Vice President is too important to give a shit!"

Once those words had been spoken, the whole studio had fallen into an eerie silence. Everyone wanted to know if Aaron would live to tell his tale of how he'd challenged Tommy Q. Secretaries put ringers on silent, assistants hovered mute in earshot, and Jude feigned great interest in the stock market as she had her ears trained on her former producer.

Thus far, Tommy was winning by a landslide, turning the five-foot eight tall bassist into a lilliputian ant. And he would have walked away with a mic-drop moment had it not been for Anna, who just in that moment dropped by. Not knowing what she was interrupting, she sashayed up to Tommy, hugged him from the side, chastely kissed him, and then – not as low-keyed as she might have wanted to – told him that she had spoken with Darius that morning, and that Big D had assured it was absolutely no problem for Tommy to drop out early today so they could attend an art fair.

So many things in that sentence baffled Jude, art fair being the top-ranking item on that list! No less unsettling, however, was the fact that Anna and Darius had developed some sort of relationship that included conversations. It bothered Jude, albeit she couldn't specify why, that her boss had taken a liking to the new girl, one significant enough to grant her favors. For as long as she worked for Darius, she'd always considered theirs a connection of a special kind. Something very hierarchical, sure. And scary at times, no doubt. But special, no less. As of right now, she was D's favorite and most important artist, and with that his favorite female person, his sister not counting. If D decided to be kind to Anna, who was a person of absolutely no interest to him, it could only mean one thing: Anna had become a person of interest to him!

And that in return meant competition. What if – God forbid! – D would offer Anna a contract? That woman would stay around for at least a year! The mere idea of it caused Jude to suffer a justified panic attack. It was complicated enough as it was! With Sadie, Portia, and the million and one models Tommy for some reason constantly ran into at industry events, the last thing Jude needed was another chick that drooled over Quincy. One who not only looked like her, but now also sang!

How was life fair? She'd like to return this year and trade it in for a new one.

Back at the reception, Aaron, the daring, yet suicidal artist who had upped the ante and called Tommy more or less a teacher's pet, felt proven right by Anna's entry remark, and now reveled in his win by taunting Quincy with a grin so smug it bordered on lunacy. Eyes self-assured, Aaron crossed his arms and boasted, "Just what I was saying!" With that he walked out, leaving Anna confused and Tommy pissed off. As always after being called out, Tommy's ire mushroomed, and it was at this point that her ex-producer remembered a need for privacy. He guided Anna off to his office.

"Damnit!" Jude put the paper down and watched as Tommy closed his office door behind him. She missed the days when she was the girl inside there, with him, being the first to find out what was on his mind. Then again, she truly didn't want to trade with Anna right now.

"Hey there, little sis'."

"Drama took place. I knew you couldn't be far."

Sadie took off her coat. "Hid in the hallway. Good position to catch everything." Freshly decorated nails tapped the paper in Jude's lap. "Are we broadening our field of interest? If you care about financial advice, may I suggest the Wall Street Journal? A bit dry at first, but very market-savvy."

Jude was busy checking out her own nails, bitten short and far from neat. From there, her focus wandered to her outfit. Torn jeans with a butter stain, courtesy of a hasty breakfast, an ill-fitting sweater that had seen better days, and dirty sneakers. Sadie wore a tailored dress and heels. Anna wore skinny jeans and her pleather jacket. Fake leather or not, it looked good. "What do you know about Anna?"

Sadie's eyes slinked into that mischievous expression Jude had always envied her for, the one that said, 'I know what you're up to.' If only Sadie knew. Maybe she could tell Jude! "I have come to learn some things about Anna that could be of interest to you. She's the youngest in her family, with two elder brothers. Both her parents, and her mother's parents still live at her hometown, which happens to be some little nest near Los Angeles. She's a bar singer, and a good one. Darius offered her two contracts, and the reason I know all this is because he asked me to make sure Anna signs with him. No matter what, he insisted! Whatever she wants, I'm supposed to get it for her."

"I doubt that includes feeding me intel," Jude murmured, embarrassed she needed her sister's help in the first place.

"No, you're right. But sisters rank above most else. And, Tommy doesn't want her. He wants you."

Eyes wide, Jude squirmed in her seat, ears burning. "He told you?"

"No," said Sadie, sympathetic. "Look, he doesn't have to. I know it from the way he acts around you. You two belong together. Even I get it now. So, here's my plan. I was thinking we get her an offer from an LA record label, near her family, since she misses them. I think she'd leave Toronto, and Tommy too, for a chance to return home and be successful."

It made sense, yes. And it wasn't the 'Let's be mean to her and scare her off', which had been the best her own mind had come up with. Jude nodded, however wary. "Where's the catch? What do you want?" With great reservation, she scrutinized her sister. "You're never that nice without wanting something in return. You like Anna. You wouldn't do this for nothing."

"There's no catch!" Sadie looked affronted, betraying her expression, though, by the theatric gesture of clutching her heart. "I'm just trying to be nice and help those I care for."

"I don't believe you." She knew her sister well enough to know there was some hidden agenda waiting to get exposed. If only Jude didn't lack alternatives. After all, she did want Tommy back. Sending his girlfriend off to LA and to an awaiting contract would probably be something Tommy found conniving and immature. Which was why Jude depended on Sadie, who had far more experience in keeping the real deal hidden and protected. "Okay. But I need you to know I'm not a bad person. I just really want Tommy back. We can't mess with Anna. It's her choice."

"Don't tell me. I care more for her than you do," Sadie assured. "But you might want to come up with something more elaborate and gripping than 'it's her choice' if Tommy ever finds out!"

True words, Jude knew.

#

Jude felt like one of those fabled philosophers. Kant and Plato and that French guy, Longchamp. No wait, that was a handbag. What was his name? Damnit, they'd discussed him in class just last week! Something–champ. Ugh, whatever! Eyes rolling, she continued to wander the busy lobby of G-Major from corner to corner and wall to wall, mulling over her conundrum: To break up Tommy and Anna or not to break up Tommy and Anna. Was it morally reprehensible to split a couple up? Did the fact that her tongue had been inside Tommy's mouth first mean that she had dibs on him? Well, technically her sister would have the bigger dibs on him, guessed Jude, and sighed dramatically. Sadie had denounced on claims on Tommy. So, going by the law of…something…it meant Tommy was hers, now. She was next in line. Anna had practically pushed in.

Okay, maybe Jude had made it easy for her and maybe she'd given Tommy every reason to let himself get snatched up by some mediocre bar singer. And she had to be mediocre, because Anna was older than Jude and if she were a good singer, she'd already have a contract. Right?

All this thinking was giving her a headache. Gruesome activity, this one.

"Kwest, listen to me, he wouldn't do it! Tommy is dumb be he ain't that dumb!"

Jude full-stopped in front of studio A's barely ajar door. Chaz was in there, evidently talking to Kwest. Eavesdropping, she knew, was about as awful as undoing Cupid's work, but what was one more sin on her already extensive list! She put her ear to the door.

"Chaz, trust me. Tommy told me himself. Jude screwed up and to get Darius to help her, he had to put his name on the dotted line. You know D, he's savvy like that."

Her heart hammered faster with each word she caught. Could it be? Had Darius saved the day and not Shay? And had it come at a steep price for Tommy? Dotted line…dotted line… She gasped. Tommy signed a contract with Darius? A record-deal? No way! Where was Tommy? She needed to ask him. She needed to pummel some sense into him and figure out why Tommy had been dumb enough to sign his life away to Darius just so…she wouldn't get into trouble.

He'd done it for her? But…why would he do such a stupid thing? Shit, she couldn't even ask him because they scarcely talked let alone discussed private details of their lives.

Ooh, it was all so very frustrating!

Nothing made sense anymore. He'd stayed the night with her but continued to date Anna. He got back in business with Darius for her, but, again, continued to date Anna. Why was he still dating Anna if his loyalty lay with her?

Jude drew a hand through her hair and cursed halfway through. Bloody hell, she'd forgotten to detangle it this morning and gone with a messy knot. The knot had captured her hand. "Geez Louise," she muttered, annoyed. "Ouch!"

"Careful," admonished Portia, walking up to her. "Bold spots don't look good on covers!"

"If I could headbang with short hair, I'd have cut if off by now!"

Portia raised her hands in surrender, taking a pointed step back. "You're in a mood!"

"You have no idea." She needed to get answers and she needed to get them from somebody who was not Tommy but knew as much about the state of his heart as possible. Anna. She couldn't ask her here, not that she was here. For obvious reasons: witnesses. She couldn't call her since she didn't have her number. She didn't want Sadie to know. Jude raised her head, managed to free her hand, and adjusted her surly face into angelic innocence. "Portia…?"

"No."

"I haven't asked yet."

"Don't bother. I know that look. No."

"But—"

"What part of no don't you get? I don't want any trouble."

Jude flung her arm around Portia's shoulders, giving her a squeeze. "Portia. Porsh. Porshi!"

"I dare you to call me that again."

Gulping, continuing to smile, she tried again. "Portia. All I need is a bit of a style upgrade."

"A bit won't get you anywhere. You need the whole nine yards."

"Do with me as you please. As long as I look grown-up and ready for a night out, you have my permission!"

"No complaints?"

"Not one. Swear!"

Because she'd sworn, she'd kept her word. Jude glanced down at her feet, aching and no doubt with bloody blisters. Who wore four-inch heels when walking, huh? The skinny black jeans did look fabulous and made her legs look far longer than they actually wore. The skintight tank that had been foisted on her was a nice match, no argument there, but she wasn't sure what to do with all the extra boob the push-up had left her with.

In lieu of better options, she hid her chest under loose curls and kept the sleek black blazer on. It did little to fight off the lusty stares of the other guests inside the bar, most of them male. Some even female.

It was only when a person stepped between her and the dim, flickering light that she looked up. At once, her hands dampened. Her nerves flared up. All night as she'd sat here, waiting for this very moment, she'd congratulated herself on her stellar idea. Now, she wished she'd gone home. Even to bed early. Clearing her throat, constricted as it was, she forced herself to smile politely. "Anna."

"Jude." The other woman didn't wait for an invite before sitting down. "Surprised to see you here. I was told you wanted to talk to me. Took me a minute to find you. You look very…"

"Adult?" It was a bar. She'd wanted to dress the part.

"Out of place, but sure, let's go with that. What do you want? No wait, let me guess. It's about Tommy? What else would you possibly want to discuss with me other than your fixation on my boyfriend?"

Boyfriend. Jude bit back a snort. That was a big word.

"Last I heard, you hated him."

She traced the edge of the table with her finger. Blood red. Portia had painted them. Chipped already thanks to a quick interlude on the acoustic. This was the reason she didn't do fancy. Fancy didn't mix well with music-making. "Lots happened since then. Tommy must have forgotten to fill you in. You know he signed a record deal with Darius, right?"

"Yes."

She knew? Why the hell did she know? Why did everyone but her know? It took everything she had in her not to huff. But adults didn't huff and puff. They reacted with poise and virtue. "Good. Then I don't have to fill in the details. You also know he hates Darius."

"That's a stretch, but what if that's the case? Tommy makes his own decisions."

Tommy made dumb decisions. There was a difference.

"I know he spent the night with you when he was supposed to be at his surprise birthday party."

She knew that, too? Jude didn't reply, nor react.

"You're not as subtle as you think you are. You're into him. You want him. But you don't know how to get a man that's way out of your league so you fumble around and poke your nose into shit that's none of your business and hope that eventually, he'll just fall into your lap like all things in your life must have done. By luck."

"Hey!"

Anna stood up. "I don't care to discuss my relationship with you. I trust you will see yourself out of my club."

"A club," Jude shot back. "Not your club. You only work here."

"And right now, my shift is over. I'm going home. To my boyfriend. You can imagine what we'll do when I get there. Night, Jude."

"You need help."

Jude looked up from her journal, brows plucked up into a quizzical shape. "Chaz. Help with what? This song?" She glanced back at her scribbled lines. "I think not." And back up. "Go away."

He remained put. "Help with Tommy. I think you should be with him and not that bar singer he's all too keen about showing off these days."

Interesting development. She closed the journal, paying him an ounce more attention. "Do continue."

Taking a seat at the kitchenette's counter, he filched the cup of tea from in front of her and sipped. "First things first. How do you think about strippers?"

"Are you contemplating a career change?" Tilting her head, with a grin, she took the mug back from his grabby fingers. "Don't drink this. If you want to make money, you need to cut back on the sugar."

A slow smile grew larger in size on Chaz's face, as though she'd surprised him. "You're feisty."

She liked that she'd caught him off guard by it. "Only on odd days. Would you like to come back tomorrow?"

"Strippers, Harrison. Well-shaped, sexy, naked-at-the-end-of-a-performance strippers. Like 'em or not?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Wanted to book 'em for Quincy's surprise birthday bash, the one you kept him away from. Anna turfed my plan, said women don't deserve to be treated like that."

Interesting. Jude contemplated her next words. She'd personally not consider a job in such a field of work, but everyone had a right to do what they wanted. If not, she'd be studying for a career in medicine right about now and nobody deserved that. "Would you have paid them a fair price?"

"Plus extras."

"Then I think strippers are a vital part of our society and deserve our utmost respect and admiration."

"We'll be great friends, you and I."

"How can you be of service to me?"

He laughed out loud. "The greatest friends."

He was aware that she was speaking. It registered in his head that words came from her mouth. The words, however, sailed right by him. Too distracting was the sight up front. Scarcely inside G-Major, and already he was greeted by a scene straight out of a nightmare. Jude, laughing merrily, hand against Chaz' chest, whilst the latter had his arm slung around her so far he could strangle her should he want it. They looked like lovers sharing a private joke. An intimate conversation. Or worse, a chuckle over him.

Tommy stopped walking, unprepared for the jealousy that attacked him like a hailstorm hitting out of nowhere. It hurt to see her like this. Not with Chaz, necessarily. But smiling. In the arms of another man. Carefree, happy, fearless and brash. She was the Jude he'd first fallen for, the girl he'd not seen in too long. Who'd have guessed she'd return at the arm of another man.

It seemed ludicrous to do as much and imagine her being in love with Chaz. She wasn't. She wouldn't be. She couldn't be! Could she? The thought scared him as much as its possibility confounded him.

The picture reminded him of the last time he had seen her this close with another guy, last year, in that club whose name he no longer recalled. She'd been encircled in a tight embrace of not only David, but also Shay. Both men's lips had been too close to her skin for there to not have been contact at one point. They had danced a slow one. The dark, lusting gazes David and Shay had worn had burnt itself into Tommy's memory. He'd never seen anyone look at Jude with raw want. Nobody man had ever longed for her in such a way. At least, that's what he had believed until then. It had been a teaching moment.

One that had undone him. Anger had broken free at that time. Frustrated over her reluctance to open up to him, he'd been disappointed to see she had no troubles inviting other people into her life. Seeing her now brought all those emotions back. Then, he had blocked her from his life, unwilling to risk anymore pain at her hand. Because it wasn't a feeling he was familiar with. Not anymore. He'd pushed it from his memory, had banished it from his thoughts, and had purposely forgot about it in the wake of his last great heartbreak. Who'd have thought a temperamental teenager could free the heart he'd locked away in a block of ice years ago.

Unprepared to handle the wild emotional ride she'd taken him on, by accident no less, he'd hidden himself away in a relationship he hardly cared about. He'd lied to himself, he'd told himself it was a good partnership, one of two people who saw eye to eye.

As though hearts cared for wise decision-making…

"…Tommy?!" Anna tugged on his arm, yanking him out of his thoughts.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said, Darius offered me the deal again this morning. With improved conditions. It's pretty flattering. Having a guy like him go out of his way to get me? I don't know what to make of it. What do you think?"

"About what?"

The was a pause in her step, a tiny one, but one he caught. Her voice, rarely ever frazzled, climbed half a note. "An opinion from you would help. Do you think I should sign with him? Who'd be my producer if I did? You? Would that be okay?"

"I won't be your producer," he declared matter-of-factly. D had issued new rules about the strict separation between business and personal. That aside, he cared little for the job. For one thing, he'd implemented a no-mixing-business-and-pleasure rule long before D gave his orders. That aside, nothing about Anna's music drew him in. There was no new direction to follow, no new challenges to conquer. Her songs were good but average. They had commercial appeal and would no doubt be successful, though they would be that because they fit the pattern of acoustic, coffee-shop slash bar musician music. It was the kind of nameless, easy to remember, easy to forget soft singing that didn't bother anyone.

Not that he was in the midst of discovering a new music genre with any of his other artists. Even Jude was, for better or worse, average pop with a hint of rock and her music fit the bill. With his other artists, he wouldn't have to hold himself back, though. He could finetune their songs, milk their voices, and walk away with no hard feelings if the success stayed away or drew them elsewhere. And Jude…he'd never much cared for the songs she brought to him, good ones notwithstanding. It was working with her that had lured him into staying. Her passion, her feistiness, her unwavering will to not bend unless it suited her own goals.

Coincidentally, she was also the reason he refused to draw a straight line from the booth to the bedroom. "No more blurring lines," he explained to Anna, whose eyes narrowed at his words. "And you're a new artist and—"

She cut him off at that. "I understand that you don't want to produce Jude. Not to risk sounding arrogant, but I like to think I can hold my own in a studio and professionally speaking, my music doesn't have to hide behind some teenager's idea of a love song. Everyone says you're the best producer around. Are you telling me I'm not worth working with?"

Nearby, Jude spun out of Chaz's arm, laughed when Speid walked up and told her something, only to vanish with him and the rest of her band. "Not to downgrade your talent," returned Tommy, mirroring her salvo, ending this discussion before it began, "but why I refuse to produce Jude is none of your business. And I won't be your producer because I don't to want to. It's as simple as that. As for Jude's idea of a love song…" He sucked in a deep breath, exasperated with this moment, before exhaling all of it. "She's seventeen, she's got her head full of nonsense, and she thinks she's God's gift to music on some days. But that teenager has more talent in her vocal cords than you have in your whole body. That's my professional opinion. Personally, I think she could write you into the ground. Half asleep. On a bad day. With the flu. It's up to you to sign with Darius or not." He'd not make that decision for her.

Chapter 25:

"Lame ass punk," fumed Tommy, throwing up his hands in anger. Turning to Kwest, he continued to blow off steam. "When I told him to work on his voice, did the asshole think I was fucking joking? Stupid prick's been out partying all night, I bet. His voice is fried, his eyes are bloodshot. We won't get shit done today!" Incensed enough to throw his precious, worth-a-car-and-a-half custom headphones onto the equally worshipped soundboard, Tommy shoved himself away from the board and growled. "There goes my night off. Stupid me for thinking I could get this down fast and leave early!" Tearing his hands through his hair, ruining the half hour of work he'd no doubt put into it this morning, he shook his head.

It was at this point that Jude regretted having snuck into the studio ten minutes ago to sit in the back, next to her sister, who'd arrived an hour ago to watch Kwest work his magic on the nobs and buttons. She needed a car and since Sadie refused to part from her VW, she also needed Sadie. Damn her Mustang for acting up. That car had it out for her!

As quietly as possible, Jude leaned into Sadie, whispering, "I'll wait in the lobby."

Sadie, not understanding Jude's desire to leave unnoticed, asked for everyone to hear, "why?"

Arrrgh! The seethed, "shhh!" she shot Sadie's way did little to help. Startled by Sadie's words, Tommy spun around, spotted her, and immediately spiraled into a second wave of infuriation. "What are you doing here?"

"Leaving," assured Jude, already up and grabbing her bag. She wasn't exactly sure why Tommy was miffed at her, but what with his current mood swings it was hard to tell why he was anything these days! "Forget you even saw me."

"Too late."

It was so very tempting to bark back and snap and bitch and rip him a new one for he veritably begged to have a new one torn, but she bit her tongue and stuck to honesty. "Came to ask Sadie to drive me home. Sadie wants to stay. I'll wait in the lobby."

"Why do you need a driver?"

"Oh, you don't know? Scotty's got his day off. No one to beam me," she felt just sly enough to retort. "Gee, Quincy, why do people need drivers, huh? To get from A to B!"

That vein on Tommy's neck became visible. Not a good sign. She gulped.

"I meant," reiterated her former producer, his patience hanging by a thread, "you have your own car."

"Mustang's on strike," supplied Sadie, annoyed.

Like she was happy about that! Jude sighed. "Car trouble, yes. Can I go?"

"Take the fucking Ferrari."

Those four words had Jude fuming. Did he not know what that damn car stood for? Did he not know that she refused to accept that idiotic thing out of principle? Cause if she did accept it as what it was, it'd be the symbol for the end of their friendship. No, she would not drive that car, no matter how freaking awesome it was. Even less than wanting to drive the car did Jude want to continue this conversation which was rapidly spiraling into an argument. Hadn't they left behind that awful phase of hating each other? She had believed they'd reunite as friends soon, no matter how little he talked to her. She'd worked so hard for that.

She'd spent hours with Chaz, learning about Tommy's and Anna's relationship, coming to the conclusion that love was not a factor between them. She'd drilled Chaz with questions about Tommy's motivations because she wanted to know why he'd sign a contract with Darius just to get her out of trouble when he claimed to care very little about her. She'd masterplanned with Sadie, figuring out what people they knew and how those connections could help her set Anna up with a record deal in Los Angeles a.k.a. away from Tommy. She'd behaved admirably, not getting into trouble, demonstrating she could be grown up if she wanted to be.

There really was no reason for Tommy to be treating her with ire. Was it about the car? Quietly, Kwest and Sadie slipped out of the room. Cowards! "It's your car, not mine. Take it back and let's move on, alright?"

Tommy spun his chair back around, resetting the board. "It's yours and you know why."

"No," insisted Jude, "it's not mine."

"Then get rid of it."

"I'm trying to return it to the sender!" She grabbed his chair's back and made him face her. His knee bumped hers and at once she regretted what she'd done. Suddenly, there was contact. Actual, physical contact. The temperature in the room shot up. Her thoughts got scrambled when their gazes locked.

Jude hastily retreated to the couch behind her, sat down, crossed her legs, and took a moment to presort her next words. "You know I won't drive that car as much as I know you won't take it back. So, until we have a solution for our problem, it will remain in my garage, untouched."

"Even if that means having to rely on your sister for transportation?" He rolled his eyes, clearly finding her plan stupid.

So be it. Jude was set on it. Stubbornly so! Dropping her head, avoiding direct eye-contact, she could sense the air grow thicker in the room as time ticked by in silence. This was the first time in weeks she was alone in a room with Tommy. Weird though it felt, it also was an opportunity she ought to grasp and milk for all it was worth. "Why did you sign with Darius?"

Tommy flung one leg over the other, shrugging. "Why did you visit Anna at work?"

"She told you?!" Ooh, that woman!

"Not right away, but yes. There's more I'd like to know so hear me out before he start spitting out your excuses. You asked Chaz about me? And no, he didn't tell me. I overheard you. You spread a rumor that Anna was interested in a record deal in Los Angeles. A friend of mine called me and asked me if it was true and if he should make her an offer."

Jude's ears perked up. There was an offer from LA on the table?

"Stop smiling."

She stopped.

"Let me see if I figured out your great plan: You want to get rid of Anna by sending her off to LA? Why? That's what I can't uncover. Makes no sense to me!"

"Really?" It had all been above the line until this moment. Every emotion was true, every sarcastic remark intended, but no barbs had landed below the belt. Nor had they skimmed dangerous waters. But his last statement landed dead-center in her bruised heart. "You can't imagine why I want her gone?"

He sharpened his stare. Refused to let go of her eyes. "No."

"You don't love her!"

"How would you know?"

"I just do!" Suddenly a lot shyer, Jude focused on the ground and on her shoes and mumbled, "I'm not saying you love somebody else instead." God beware she went out on that limb! "But I know you, and I've seen the two of you together. Sadie told me that Anna would resembles me, and that maybe that is the reason you started dating her. Anna is not like me."

"She's nothing like you," agreed Tommy with an eerie calm.

It didn't sound like he minded. She swallowed the hurt and fought through the urge to run and hide and maybe shed a tear or two. "She's Sadie. She's the girl that can't break your heart. And I think you deserve more."

In this very moment, just as Tommy's lips twitched with a response, the door opened. Sadie poked her head in. "Ready to leave if you want."

"Hell of a timing," muttered Tommy.

With a nod, Jude got up. "I did it for you," she wanted him to know.

Tommy snorted. "Keep telling yourself."

Jude walked at a brisker pace than Sadie did. And it took her sister a moment to catch up and reach her side. "Are you mad at me or something?"

"No."

"Of course you are. I can tell you are!"

"I'm not. Let it go."

"You know I won't," said Sadie and grabbed Jude's arm to make her stop.

Jude reared around. "I'm not mad at you!" Not exclusively at her at any rate. She was mad at everyone and everything. Yes, she'd been selfish when she'd wanted Anna gone but she'd not pushed her onto the tracks in front of an incoming train, for crying out loud. She'd given her an option! That was all. She'd given her the option to choose where her future was. With Tommy, or in Los Angeles. If anyone wanted to get technical, then she'd been incredibly selfless in that moment! How dare Tommy claim she'd only looked out for herself?!

And why had Sadie interrupted them in exactly that second, huh? "You couldn't wait another minute before barging in like that?"

"You told me you wanted to leave!"

"You saw I was talking to Tommy!"

"I saw you two on the verge of another fight. I did you a favor!"

"Stop doing that! I can handle my own shit!"

"Can you?"

"What's that supposed to mean, huh?"

Sadie walked on. "Nothing."

This time, it was Jude who held her back. "Nu-uh! Tell me! You got a problem with me, say it!"

"You got a problem, alright? You sprayed a wall, Jude! You got into trouble with the police. Then you made Shay take care of it. Shay? Mister Problem Child himself? How bloody dumb can you be? Do you even get what this could have done to your career?"

"I sprayed a wall, Sadie!" Yes, she'd done wrong. And yes, she'd panicked at first. But weeks of introspection had done wonders to her troubled thoughts. "I didn't kill anyone. I didn't collect DUIs like Tommy did. I didn't overspend like Georgia did. I don't fuck with taxes, like Darius does. I don't speed, like Kwest loves to do. I fucking sprayed a wall, Miss I-Secretly-Play-Poker-With-My-Tuition-Money-Online! Go talk to a mirror! How do you even know about it? Did you steal my letter?" It had been missing. She'd tried to recall where she'd lost it. Maybe she hadn't lost it.

"You lost it at G-Major. Tommy found it. He told Kwest, and Kwest told me."

That explained it, then. "Well, I'm glad the lot of you value my privacy this much." Shouldering her bag, she marched off toward the car. "Are you coming or not?"

Sadie came. "I'm sorry. We were worried about you!"

"For spraying a wall," drawled Jude one more time, bothered Sadie considered it a crime against mankind. "I get it. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

###

He walked into G-Major that night, wanting to record as he regularly did these days. After hours, with nobody left to see him, he found enough solitude to focus solemnly on his music, instead of the buzz that he would create once it'd be discovered he was singing again. For the last month and a half, he had laid down two tracks for his album, so far pleased with them. Tonight, he'd start on the third one, with the song written in his head already. At least, so he had planned.

Already when he entered, he knew he wouldn't be alone that night. With both acoustic and electric in his hands, he kicked the door to studio A's booth open, placed the instruments there, and was about to go looking for the other person that was around –bright lights in the lobby that had welcomed him – but the person in question wasn't far. Cowering in the corner of the room, unaware to him, with her back facing the sliding glass door, she sat right beneath a big microphone, strumming her electric with unfamiliar anger. Heavy headphones caused her head to droop forward every. Her voice, strained from overuse, didn't sound bad, just different. In a way, more mature.

Not willing to interrupt the song, thus far loving it without having heard much more than two or three lines, he leaned against the door and listened.

Ten miles long, nothing's going on

We closed the book, words unspoken

All we shared were the rainclouds and the storms

I crossed the water to the other side

Fell in deep then waved you goodbye

Now all I have are the places I can't find

Was I too late in leaving?

Did you stop believing?

Why is silence still screaming out your name?

Doubtlessly, and he was that cocky, the song was about him. He didn't know what to make of the lyrics, however, since they didn't quite fit into the picture of her feelings that he had painted himself during the last months.

Another Mirror breaks

Can't touch, can't feel

It's 7 years too late

And I'm standing still

You're somebody I used to know

I'm Somebody that let you go away

Don't say, it's 7 years too late

Head up high as you pass me by

You ripped the words from my lullaby

All I have are the shreds, there's nothing left

The thunders beating, can't get no rest

Heartbeat's kicking in my chest

Now I all I hear are the things I should have said

Why do I keep on dreaming?

Without you I'm not breathing

With every tear I'm drowning, I'm to blame

Don't say, it's 7 years too late

Was I too late in leaving?

Did you stop believing?

Why is silence still screaming out your name?

Another Mirror breaks

Can't touch, can't feel

It's 7 years too late

And I'm standing still

You're somebody I used to know

I'm Somebody that let you go away

Don't say, it's 7 years too late

As he stood there, he couldn't help but enjoy her song even though it was one of great pain. He had missed hearing her when she created music. That was the moment he was allowed a glimpse into her state of mind. He missed knowing her, knowing how she felt, what she thought, and how she was holding up in life. She used to be his closest friend, and the most important one, and now she was merely a person he once knew.

Expecting another stanza, he was startled when she broke into tears all of sudden. Not just some drops. No. Really, heavy, heart-wrenching sobs. Not thinking, he just acted, rushed into the studio, and crouched down next to her. "Jude, hey, it's alright."

Her eyes widened at the sight of him, then blinked with confusion when he tugged her into his arms. But a fresh wave of tears overcame her; it knocked her over, sending her into his arms. Soon, she buried her head in his chest, wetting his shirt with her tears. It took her minutes to collect enough breath to speak. And when she finally did, her voice was hoarse and devoid of strength. "I'm not crying over you."

He blurted out a chuckle. "I didn't think you were." Sitting down more comfortably, Tommy stretched his legs out and Jude adjusted to his arms by shifting between them. Her back faced him, her head rolled back, and she relaxed against his shoulder. To keep her close, he wrapped both arms around her. The kiss he placed onto her cheek came naturally and happened before his head had a chance to stop it. "What's wrong? Want to tell me?"

It felt as if they had been together for a lifetime, knowing better than anyone else what the other one needed just then.

For a while she said nothing. Her breathing evened out and her tears began to dry. She cleared her throat, getting rid of the lump in it. "I'm crying because my family sucks, my friends think every problem can be solved by playing strip poker and getting piss drunk, and because everything is not the way it's supposed to be like. I don't know what's going on, Tommy. Everything is a mess. You and I — What I did? What we did? I'm exhausted. I can't do this anymore. I want my old life back. I want to come to G-Major and make music and not worry about whether I accidentally make a new enemy or piss you off by saying the wrong thing. Sadie's mad at me for breaking the law. She thinks I'm on the verge of becoming a serial killer or something. Dad thinks Shay and David are a bad influence. I screwed up our friendship. I can't even fix our friendship!"

"Well," he started, rubbing his thumbs up and down her bare arms, "I'd probably be able to help you if you just explained to me what tipped the needle. What brought you here tonight?"

Jude looked at the ceiling, blowing out a breath. "Mom moved to Europe without leaving anything but an email. Sadie gambled away her tuition money with online Poker. Dad has tried to buy our house from Mom, which is a joke, since he has already bought it once – for her! I was shopping with David and his new girlfriend. He told me to come, to take my mind of stuff, you know? But then I overheard her saying I was a pathetic slut who stalks her ex. He didn't defend me. Just laughed. Some friend, huh? I guess you think it's all small potatoes. But right now, there are so many small potatoes, and I don't even like potatoes!"

"I know." Her kissed her cheek again.

She closed her eyes, sinking further into his arms. "I'll be fine. Don't worry. I just needed to vent."

"Vent as much as you want. You can do anything you want." He couldn't believe Victoria had just left the country. But he also didn't want to ask Jude about details. "Tell me what you need."

"I don't even know what I need."

Tommy laughed and gently touched her face, making her face him. "Some wisdom from someone who has been where you are, before: Life keeps going. Tomorrow, there'll be new problems, new people, new drama. Everyone will disappoint you at one point. But just like that, people will surprise you in a good way at another point. You just have to wait for it. And as for the money – just ask." He wasn't even surprised he'd offered to help. Nothing he did around her truly surprised him anymore.

"Thanks for offering," she told him gratefully. "I already paid her debts. I'm the youngest!"

Tommy looked at her, not understanding right away.

"I mean I should be the one screwing up. Not them! Not that I'm not doing it already," she murmured self-chidingly. When her eyes met his, she smiled wistfully. "I miss kindergarten. Playing all day, never worrying about anything, always a friend around, parents that never fought in front of me!"

"Kindergarten, huh?" He let go and stood up, holding out his hand. "Come on."

She looked at him, puzzled. "What? Tommy, where are we going?"

"Kindergarten."

Jude laughed as hard as she could as Tommy pushed the swing again. "Higher," she yelled with the widest smile on her face. "Higher!"

"You're five foot six and have heavy bones. You want to go higher, you have to help!" He tried anyway, laughing just as hard, only to wince. Jude nearly fell off the swing when trying to go for the kill.

"Did you just call me fat?" Jude stuck her tongue at him, recklessly turning around and loosening her grip. "At least I don't have a sticky hair!"

"Don't go there," he warned playfully, "And you know it's not sticky! Hold on, will ya?"

They weren't far from G-Major, at a nearby kindergarten. Tommy, to Jude's utter surprise, had no troubles at all picking the fence's lock, baring the way to the playground. Bad influence, he had called it, and Jude had for the first time realized that there was a whole lot she didn't know about him. He knew close to everything about her.

It was exciting and saddening at once. To know she could still discover new sides to him had something intriguing, but it was devastating to see he made no effort in volunteering opening himself up to her.

Right now, she pushed these thoughts aside. This was about forgetting everything, and not about building up more worry and sorrow. "Maybe you're just not strong enough to swing me higher," she teased.

He arched his brows. "Better hold tight, Harrison!" Then he gave her a firm push.

With her feet wide in the air, she felt incredible. "AHHHH!" It was a happy scream. She hadn't felt this free in an eternity. She loved it. To be weightless, fearless, and not holding back. "Again! This is awesome. I'm so going to repair the swing in our backyard!"

"Love to see you try! You wouldn't know a hammer if it hit your thumb!"

"That's a lie!"

The next time he pushed her, Jude moved in sync with the swing. She envisioned a great finale, got ready, and jumped. "Woooooooohooooo!"

"Ouchouchouchouchouchouch…"

"Shouldn't have jumped," quipped Tommy, sitting in the chair next to the hospital bed, lips curled upward in teasing smile. Leaning back, he swung his legs up and rested them on the edge of her bed, crossed. So were the arms behind his head. "Now, what's that lesson we learned today?"

"Playgrounds," bit Jude through clenched teeth, "are a danger to society!" Damn her own stupidity. She should have known this would happen. It was exactly the same thing that had happened the last time she'd done it. When she'd still visited Kindergarten, coincidentally. She'd injured her ankle. Jude moved her foot. Excruciating pain shot through her body, up her leg, all the way into every nook and corner. "OOOOOOUW!"

"Distract me."

"I always do," stated Tommy with a dashing smile. A pulse-quickening mixture of arrogance and reassurance. "What would you like me to do? Joke? Tell you a tale of great entertainment? A foot rub, by chance?"

"Stop teasing me."

"You make it so easy."

Was he flirting with her? If only she knew. It would be nice to know. That way, she could return the favor or avoid its pitfalls. How at ease he looked, lounging like an emperor in that confining, old hospital chair, waiting for her doctor to drop by and deliver the final news. Jude shifted to her side, as carefully as possible, and propped her head up her hand. "Tell me something I don't know about you."

"My shirt size?"

"Extra large?"

"That's the other size," he said and winked. "But you know that already."

She swore he was flirting with her. She was ninety-nine percent sure. Her cheeks flushed with heat nonetheless.

Tommy grinned, pleased with the result. "Alright, alright. What do you want to know?"

"I can ask anything I want?"

"You're injured. I'm feeling party responsible. I'm the one who let you onto the playground. Go for it."

Jude went for all or nothing. "Did you sign your record deal with Darius because I sprayed a wall? If that's the case, it's stupid, I got to tell you. It's a wall, Tommy. They're not gonna send me to jail for that. Meanwhile, you're serving life at G-Major." Eventually, every jailbird regretted the deeds that landed him behind bars. One day, Tommy would hate her for getting him into this mess.

He sputtered a chuckle, shaking his head. "Dramatic as always. He made me an offer and…you know, to be honest? Maybe a part of me wanted to sign with him. I couldn't tell you. It's not a life sentence. It's one album. He didn't put a gun to my head and forced my hand. At the end of the day, it was my decision. And I get that you only sprayed a wall, but that's out of character for you." He shrugged. "Anyway, I'm recording again. I'm not putting out anything just for the sake of fulfilling my duty. Whatever comes from this, it wears my name. I want it to be good. And Darius assured me I got his full support on that. Just to be safe, I had him put it in writing."

She smiled. But her concerns were hardly placated. If anything, they were roused for a different reason. "You think me spraying a wall shows a lack of character on my part?"

"No, I don't. I'm saying, you're not known to do that shit."

"It was one wall. It wasn't even a wall. It was a stupid poster! People forget that. I'm not flawless. I'm not perfect. I'm not a little kid anymore, somebody in need of protection!"

Skepticism colored Tommy's features bleak. "You asked Shay for help!"

"I panicked! I wouldn't do it again. I learned my lesson. Next time the police comes looking for me and needs me to make a statement, I'll call my criminal defense attorney and have him work out a deal."

Tommy glanced skeptically at her, his worries persisting. "That's not a joke!"

"It is! The world didn't end. You always look at me as some sort of golden child that never does wrong. I'll screw up again, I can promise you that." And she refused to act like a poster child for good behavior. She was determined to life live as life deserved to be lived. One mistake at a time! "I'll survive."

"Quite agree," said the doctor, stepping into the room. "It's just a sprained ankle. A few days of rest will work wonders. Considering it's late and you're already in one of our beds, I suggest you stay the night, get some sleep, and have your father pick you up in the morning. I already talked to him on the phone. Stuart will be here first thing tomorrow."

"Stuart," mouthed Tommy, frowning.

Jude sighed. "Golf-buddies." There went flying under the parental radar… "Yes, Doctor Hayes. Thanks for everything."

"Nothing to thank me for. Jude, goodnight. Mister Quincy, visitation hours have come to an end, I'm afraid."

Tommy rose to his feet. "Alright." He leaned over and kissed Jude's head. "Sleep tight. See you soon."

The doctor left but Jude acted fast and gripped Tommy's arm. If he thought she'd let him leave, he was in for a shock. "Wait, he's gone. He's not coming back!"

Eyes darted toward the door. "You don't think he's waiting in the hallway, making sure I leave?"

"A doctor? No," assured Jude. "A nurse, maybe. Not him!" Instead of indulging Tommy's reluctance, she curled her fingers into his leather jacket. It was soft and well-worn. She'd seem him wear it often and been meaning to run a hand over its material. The opportunity had never presented itself. Sometimes, a sprained ankle had its perks. "Nice jacket."

Tommy, naturally, knew her too well and immediately shook his head. "Forget it. It's Armani. Vintage. Expensive."

She'd perfected the quivering lower lip and unleashed it on him "I'm injured, Tommy. In pain. I'm suffering. I'm barely hanging on. Pretty pweeease?"

"It's imported leather. It's my favorite."

"I know. That's why I want to wear it. It'll always remind me of my very best friend Tommy." She batted her lashes, falling back into that long-lost playfulness that used to define their friendship. Raising her hand, she pointed a finger at him and smiled. "That's you."

He laughed hard. "Oh please!"

"Tommy," she whined. "I might as well have died earlier!"

A beat. "I get something for that in return," he bargained.

"Deal!" Not longer pointing at him, her fingers now made a gimme!-gesture. "Take it off," said Jude and tugged on his sleeve again. "What's the favor? Me, playing lead guitar in your band? I don't come cheap!"

"Like I couldn't find better than you," he jested, earning a pinch in his hand for that.

More softly speaking, she leaned forward as she finally put on his jacket, snuggling into it, and sniffing at its material. It smelled of Tommy. She loved it. "So, what'cha want from me?"

"Make mistakes, alright. I can't keep you from that. But consider the consequences. Some stuff comes at a price, and it happens faster than you think. I was worried earlier."

Her heart beat faster. "When I fell?"

"When you cried."

That got the brightest smile from her. Maybe it was her painkillers that slowly started to kick in, her fatigue – the day had worn her out – or just all of that mixed together, but she sat up, scooted towards him, cupped his head, and placed a sweet, lasting kiss on his adorably startled lips, amazed by her own bravery. "Will do. Promise. Will you stay here tonight?" She settled back into her pillow, tugged the sheet on top of her, and curled into her new jacket. Eyes fluttered close.

"Of course," he said, sounding bemused, and settled back into the chair.

"Not the chair," murmured Jude, sleepy and on the cusp of falling asleep. "Here. Bed. I'm in pain," she said, struggling to meet his gaze a final time. That heavy were her eyes. "Please? Hold me? Tommy?"

Wordlessly, he got up, settled against her, and held her when she curled up.

"Thank you, Tommy. Love ya."