Disclaimer: Refer to the first chapter…and I do not own any published titles that may appear in this story

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and also, to those who have story on alert and are reading. Please, feel free to drop a comment/review/msg in any time! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Also just know, this story is a relaxed, less-serious style of my writing…I mean, you're not silly, you can see that! But I just thought I'd put it out there. And, two little moments in this story were inspired by African-Titan and Wings of Corrugated Irony (also known as the 'Ruby' in rubies'n'diamonds) although I don't know if they'll pick up where they inspired it (well, Ruby might…her's is obvious!) Also, the lyrics (if you can call them that!) are made up in this, I own them.

Recap:

"Oh, darling…don't be discouraged! It's nothing against you, really, but seeing as you cannot stand Shakespeare and you're standing in her way, it would be much simpler for you to step down, no?" the voice rang again. It was a beautiful voice, feminine and lilting. For a moment all Archie could do was count the echoes as they faded. Shaking his head in realization, agitation reentered his hands. Forming clenched fists, Archie jumped on to the table.

"I mean it…show yourself." He commanded. The voice sighed, resounding beautifully even with the library's poor acoustics.

"Alright," she said, her voice soothing and melodious "I will."

Chapter 3:

Archie waited for the owner of the voice to magically materialize in front of him. As he waited, he heard a rhythmic beat, a smooth jazz beat combined with blues notes, played on a…harp? His untrained ear was struggling to truly identify the instruments, but there was no denying the hypnotic effect of the music. For a short while, he forgot he was waiting for anything.

"On second thought," the voice chimed "perhaps it's best you wait…I'm not sure now is the best time to come forward…"

"What?" Archie blurted, exasperation inflaming his voice "That is NOT on…you show yourself now. I mean it's rude enough that you were watching our rehearsals without permission, but now you're backing out on what you said you would do?"

The music continued to play, flowing beautifully from an unknown source within the library. In fact, it seemed to grow louder. The syncopated jazz beat suddenly turned fierce, into a street-style bass drop, while the harp was amplified, synthesised and increased in tempo. Just then, Archie felt unsteady, shifting his feet to restore some strength to his pose. It didn't work. Glancing at the ground, Archie realised the problem. The very floor of the library began to tremor in time to the hip-hop bass. Well that's unusual… Archie thought nervously. Attempting to stand straight, Archie clutched the head of a chair, which then proceeded to buckle under the pressure of the deafening bass. Falling in pieces to the ground, the chair let a single handle in Archie's hand and a stunned expression on his face.

Immediately, he jumped on the table, hoping the mesmerizing music wouldn't extend to the rest of the furniture.

"What are you doing?" Archie yelled, unable to hear his own voice

"Oh, this?" the voice taunted, as the bookshelves began to sway in time to the quavering notes of the harp. There seemed to be a magnetic thread between each shelf, with a force just strong enough to avoid the collision a million books and scrolls, performed like an interpretive dance.

"Stop that!" Archie cried out, covering his ears.

Then everything came to a halt.

"How dare you!" the voice burst "Telling me that I'm the rude one, after the way you treated her and her wish to rehearse! Then, to further your ignorance, I never PROMISED I would show myself…I considered it and conceded, and then I decided to change my mind for the better. I was going to help you…but perhaps you could take some of that overly inflated macho bravado and find a way to do it yourself, oh superior one!"

Her voice echoed again, this time, Archie was unsure whether it was in his mind or in the air, but he certainly felt more than nervous after library's musical behaviour, it was definitely the first time that it had attempted to rival a hollywood nightclub. But all sound had faded, all shelves were still. It was dead calm.

Archie's eyes shifted slowly from side to side, the dim library seemed lifeless now. Unsure of whether he was truly alone, Archie poked the air around him, wondering whether he'd set off some invisible jukebox earlier. Not a sound was made. Although Archie's ego was vaguely wounded, he despised the idea of dwelling on the voice's comments, even if her voice managed to make an insult sound like the most captivating aria.

Without another thought on the matter, Archie grabbed his script, leapt off the table and left the library. There was no way he was staying in there now.

"Ok, Odie, are you ready?" Atlanta asked nervously, as she grinned into the face of the African-American boy. Given Archie's ridiculous display in the library, Atlanta couldn't care less as to whether Odie was ready, as long as he read his lines agreeably.

Odie scratched his head and peered at his script, avoiding Atlanta's wide and hopeful eyes. The young genius studied the lines momentarily, and then glanced at Atlanta over the top of his grin-tinted glasses.

"You want me to read…all these lines?" he asked, his voice flat.

Atlanta nodded buoyantly, forcing a friendly smile on her face. Odie swallowed the pillow of spit sitting unpleasantly on his tongue and attempted to match Atlanta's smile, involuntarily thumbing the buttons of his Xbox controller. He had only agreed because he knew how important grades were to Atlanta, but drama king, he was not. Sitting on the couch of the brownstone living room, Odie paused the Xbox and turned his body to face his reading partner. Ruffling the sleeve of Odie's shirt, Atlanta laughed.

"Chill, Odie, you're just reading the lines…You don't need to worry about dramatic expression or anything…I just need someone to practice with…" she paused, as a dark cloud passed over her face, her voice lowering "because someone is too immature to rehearse properly…"

Snapping back to attention, Atlanta noted Odie's bewildered face and decidedly ignored it.

"So are you ready?" Atlanta repeated, veiling the impatience in her voice.

Odie nodded solemnly, and wore a face that suggested he'd just been sentenced to twenty years hard time, without the chance of any computer or internet access. An audible sigh floated in his direction. Turning to face Atlanta, Odie returned the sigh.

"I'm ready…ok, here I go," Odie said, breathing deeply. Opening his mouth widely, the words barely escaped Odie's lips before the slid rapidly back down his throat. That was interesting…like swallowing straight vodka, only this burn was pleasant…Odie mused, recalling the one time his brother and a bunch of his brother's friends virtually forced it down his throat at the only party he'd every been to. He never touched the stuff after that.

"I'm sorry, Atlanta," Odie began, looking at the controller lying on the table "I-I have issues with lines…and plays…bad memories."

"It's ok Odie," Atlanta replied softly, feeling to sorry for the boy once she noticed his face, the unadulterated fear plastered like a death mask "I guess I'll go ask Jay, tear his mind away from Cronus and British accents, aye?"

Odie nodded "Yeah, try him…and again, I'm sorry."

"No problem." Atlanta answered honestly. At least he had the decency to stop the rehearsal…and apologise…unlike SOME people! Her inner voice growled. Leaping up the staircase four steps at a time, Atlanta went in search of Jay.

"Ooh baby, your lovin' is like sugar and spice, you gotta suh'n naughty and nice…" Theresa sang into her hairbrush, flipping her tangerine locks with incredible panache. Strutting over to her stereo, Theresa turned up the volume on her iPod dock, and resumed her hair-flipping, body-rolling dance.

"…and baby when you sing so sweet, it's the like the sweetest sound of sin, so I'mma lock yo' lovin' in, here and now, you knooooooow I. Love. Yo'. Lovin' and that's Why-eee-aaiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIII…," unselfconsciously, Theresa belted out the pre-chorus, her vague attempt at sounding like a girl from 'da hood' barely mattered when there was no one around to witness her failure.

"Um, what?" rang a curiously arrogant voice.

Theresa spun around, her hair whipping her face like a possessed flag. Staring at her, for who knew how long, was Archie. Judging from his expression, it was long enough for him to see…well…enough.

Crossing her arms, Theresa raised a single eyebrow. "Heard of 'KNOCKING'?"

"Heard of…'the door was actually open, and the sound pollution that was coming from your room pretty much warranted an entry'?" Archie retorted, crossing his arms as he leant into the doorway, unable to wipe off the smirk as he stared at a squirming Theresa.

"I don't CARE, what you think warranted an entry…ALWAYS knock, you hear me!" she screamed, striding forward, preparing to shove the purple-haired adolescent into the hallway.

"Aye! Aye! Hold on? Where's the rush, Beyoncé?" Archie asked, as he burst into a bout of uncontrollable laughter. A feminine growl resounded behind him, as two hands shoved his unwilling body from the doorway.

"I'm serious, wait!" Archie protested, turning around, as Theresa jumped backwards.

"What?" she asked, her olive eyes flashed with a steely skepticism.

"Ooh baby boo, you gotta give me some of yo' honey, you know I ain't talkin bout yo' cards or money, just that kissin', I be missin'…"

Both teenagers paused as the music continued. Suddenly Archie's face paled several shades. Theresa studied his suddenly pallor complexion, and noted how wonderfully it was complemented by the purple flame of his hair, and then noticed the frozen position of his features. Snapping her fingers in front of his face, she waited for him to verbally snap at her.

"Would you quit with the snapping?" Archie burst, his voice underlined by flames.

Theresa rolled her eyes. "What's wrong with you? You're always weird, but seriously, what was with the porcelain doll face?"

Archie cringed, as Theresa smiled in self-satisfaction. He craned his neck to listen to the music wafting from Theresa's iPod speakers, a very smooth, very seductive R'n'B beat was virtually rolling out of her room…pimped up car and all.

"Ooh baby, you a jealous boy, you got that sexy thang, that envy thang, that 'I gotta have u thang', buh all I'm sa'ing…"

"Who is that?" Archie asked, as his larynx pole-vaulted to the top of his throat.

Theresa giggled inwardly, her thoughts momentarily on Archie's vocal instability.

"Who is who?" she questioned, smiling teasingly.

"That singer?" he urged, his voice decidedly remaining in it's new position. Arhice clutched his throat.

"That is Erika…she's only the hottest R'n'B singer...Ever." Theresa answered, when she noticed Archie's eyes fishing hers for more information "She writes all her own songs, seriously, her love ballads are AMAZING. I mean, so are her other songs, but wow…seriously, I've never heard anything like her lyrics—

"Yeah…" Archie interrupted "I'm gonna go now…your singing, by the way…waaaayyyy too white-girl, but not half-bad."

Theresa rolled her eyes upwards and tilted her head to the side. With that, Archie practically disappeared. Glancing over the stairway, Theresa paused. Did he just compliment me in an off-centre Archie kinda way? Wow, he must be more spun out than I thought…Theresa concluded, as she strutted back into her room.

"Holy. Mother. Of. Puh-rada. Is that Eriiiika?" shrieked a voice, whose larynx permanently resided in the vocal penthouse. Spinning around, Theresa noted Neil standing with an incredibly stunned look on his face.

Neil smiled pleadingly. "Can I join you? PLEASE…I've been dying to get her new album, but I got kind of distracted at the CD store, those disk cases are really shiny and well…"

"Come on, Neil!" Theresa said excitedly, grabbing the blond's arm as the two forgot the world, singing away into their hairbrushes.

Archie raced back to the library with a voice in his head. No, not his own, but Erika's. That girl had some voice. Even Theresa's pretty voice couldn't match it. But that wasn't what was bothering him, not at all.

Archie barely registered the anything on his way as he ran into the God's library. That's gotta be a record, Archie thought, as he stood on the velvety library carpet, where'd he'd stood just a few hours earlier. He paused, as he glanced around the immense room, waiting for the study tables to start krumping. Nothing happened.

He was sure of it. Erika. She had that voice. There couldn't be any two people with a voice like that.

"Ok, Erika…show yourself!" Archie yelled, his voice hardly gaining enough momentum to create an echo. Well, that was a let down…he thought, waiting for the library to welcome his voice as it did hers.

"Scared, Erika? Are you AFRAID? I know who you are now…it's no good hiding!" Archie bellowed loudly. Nothing happened.

Suddenly, the alluring jazz beat returned, stroking the very air of the library. Such a strange kind of music it was. It sounded like it belonged there, as though without it, the world would elapse into permanent silence, into a state of unnaturalness.

"Come on ERIKA. It's no use pretending." Archie urged, his eyes dancing in time to the music.

Suddenly a shadow appeared in the bookshelf, and an hourglass silhouette of a woman could be seen, heading slowly in his direction.

"It's not Erika…" she said, her soulful tones caressing Archie's ears "It's Erato."

Thoughts/comments/suggestions/constructive critique...all welcome :D No discrimination here!