Ok, I just want to say thank you to all of you. You guys are so sweet and supportive! I'm glad you like WOC so much. =) I'm still not feeling too well, and thank you to those who wished me well through comments and PM. All those story/author alerts and adding my story to your favorites list made me feel a lot better. =) Thank you times a thousand!

Disclaimer: Do we really have to do this?

Chapter Four

Previously on WOC:

For the first time in what felt like centuries—I still couldn't believe it was only yesterday afternoon that I was bawling my eyes out—I was truly happy with what had happened so far.

I was ecstatic, actually, until a small cow-print covered phone ruined everything.

*****

Chloe released me from the hug first, hugging at such an awkward angle becoming uncomfortable after a while. But, regardless, it was nice.

She took me by the wrist, and I could feel the excitement rolling off of her like a gravitational pull. Acting as if we'd been best friends forever, she shrieked, "Come on, Sonny! I'm going to show you my secret hiding place in the studio, somewhere I haven't shown anyone before. It's so much fun. Come on!"

Tugging me along, we passed several rooms I vaguely recognized from my last visit—the dressing rooms, the warm-up room, the rehearsal room—but I resisted her pull for a moment when we passed a specific room: Chad Dylan Cooper's dressing room.

I eyed her playfully, daring her with my eyes. Her sudden optimism blackened, as she stared at the door with a face carved from sheer terror. I looked back and forth from the door to Chloe, but when I looked at her quizzically, she just shook her head violently.

"Nope. Nuh-uh. Not a good idea." She persisted in pulling my wrist, but I was stronger than her slender fingers could handle. Eventually she gave up, throwing both hands up in the air with a huff, knowing she couldn't stop me.

Learning a trick or two from Zora, I jumped and jumped until I was tall enough to reach the drawstring on the ceiling that led to the vents. Begging Chloe to hoist me up, I crawled through eagerly. She just waited impatiently at the bottom, muttering nonsense to herself, until I surprised her by yanking her up by her wrists.

"Sonny…" she said, her voice trembling, "I don't know if this is such a good idea!"

I rolled my eyes, but knowing she couldn't see it in the dark, she continued, "You can't even begin to imagine what he'll do to you if he finds out, or worse, walks in on you! Please Sonny, don't sneak in through the vent!"

Not caring enough to pay attention, my curiosity taking over all of my senses—and my sense itself, I might add—I saw a light up ahead. It was coming from the direction of his dressing room.

Proceeding to cautiously jerk open the vent, I slipped one leg through first. Then, slowly, my other. But before I could fully jump down and intrude, Chloe grabbed my wrist, and I glimpsed her face in the dim light. It was wild and frightened.

"Please, Sonny, you don't know what kind of things he has in there, but I do. Please, I'm sparing your life, here. Don't do it!" Her voice was pained, as if she were a schoolchild trying to tell a boy she liked him, but not wanting to give too much away. I was immediately suspicious.

Shaking my head, I jumped down, landing softly on his leather couch. My mouth dropped in awe as I took in the room.

It was enormous, larger than even Tawni's and my old dressing room! It was possibly larger than my apartment, at most! Everywhere you turned was the most high-tech, desirable things, all looking as if they were brand new and unused. Though, of course, that would be just like him; just like girlfriends, he used them once and tossed them away.

Running my hand over such structures as a soda fountain bar to a mini hot tub, I made my way over to his mirror, generally the most private part of any actor's room. It usually contained photos of loved ones, money, and maybe makeup, in some cases, or even scripts or personal writings. I noticed Chad's was almost completely bare—no photos, no wallet—except for one small, flat, leather-bound book with a felt pen sticking out the top. I noticed it was holding a place in the book.

I was just about to open it, when I heard the metallic rustling of keys in a lock. With a shot of terror-induced adrenaline, I snatched up the book and sprinted as quietly as I could towards the vent.

Looking almost as terrified as I was, Chloe was absentmindedly ushering me over to it, pulling me up just in time to fix the vent before the door opened.

We scampered through the vents like frantic prey trying to escape a hunter, and didn't breathe until we were safely on the firm, carpeted ground of the hallway. Then we burst into laughter, marveling at our mini adventure.

Without missing a beat, she resumed her optimistic state from before I decided to intrude on Chad's belongings, as if none of it had ever happened. She tugged my wrist again, and I willingly obliged to her persistence. I carefully slipped Chad's little leather book into my jacket.

She pulled me into the Meditation Room. I looked at her like she was the insane one this time.

"And why are you so excited to show me the Meditation Room? All you do is sit there and try to fall asleep."

She laughed her bubbly laugh. She was bubblier than even I was—and that was saying something.

"Not this, silly," she exclaimed, "That!" She pointed to a small cupboard under the slanted roof.

Still confused, I let her lead me inside. She flicked on a light, and I realized what she was talking about.

It was like a small—ok, really small, cramped, you might say—hangout. It was decked out in festive lights, and was even complete with a few board games jammed in the corner and a small table of stacked books.

I had to say, I was impressed. I didn't think someone in a show so dull could be so creative and sly as to build a somewhat nifty hangout in such a boring place.

We spent the next few hours in there, playing games and chatting it up like we were old friends reunited. I was surprised nobody went looking for us, or couldn't hear us from all the laughing we did. I really did like Chloe. She made being on 'Mackenzie Falls' something to actually look forward to every day.

Still laughing from a joke we'd just shared, she said, "Ok, Sonny, I have got to get your number. I don't think nine hours a day is enough to talk with you."

Smiling, I rummaged through my pockets as she took out her phone, prepared to swap so we could punch in each other's contacts.

"Oh, shoot," I muttered when all my pockets turned up empty. Well, with the exclusion of Chad's book in my jacket. "I must've left it at home."

"Way to break rule #1 of 'Mackenzie Falls' on your first day, Sonny," she said, smiling teasingly, "We always need to have our cell phones on us. I still don't know why, but I'm sure the reason is stupid. Everything here is stupid."

I shrugged, chuckling absently, wondering where I left it. Oh, that's right, I remembered, I forgot to pick it up again when I was rushing out of the house. I repeated my most recent thought, thinking she'd be disappointed.

But her face lit up, and I knew she was thinking up a plan by that thoughtful look in her eyes. "You know what? Let's prank call Chad into getting your phone for you. Now, what's something he really loves—besides himself, I mean. Let's blackmail him." Her tongue was licking her lips deviously at the delight of a new scheme. Chloe was starting to remind me a little of Zora. A twinge of leftover heartache made itself known in my chest.

Ignoring it, I thought. "His hair?" I tried.

"Mmm, a little sketchy, but it just might work." I watched her in the dimly lit hideout as she hit several buttons at once, her hand almost a blur. I couldn't even text that fast.

After sending it, she held up the phone for me to examine her latest idea. It read:

Go pick up Sonny Monroe's phone from her apartment, or you'll never see your thousand dollar hair product imported from Brazil again.

It wasn't long before we heard the frantic footsteps of what we could only assume to be Chad fly out the door. Faintly we heard the sound of a car engine revving, and the squeal of tires against cement as he sped off.

"Great idea, Sonny, it actually worked!" She started cracking up, and with her infectious laughter, I couldn't help but laugh either.

But the forced feeling with laughing came back, so foreign from the easy laughter I'd shared with Chloe the past few hours. I couldn't quite place it, but I didn't like it, and a queasy feeling enveloped my stomach.

Then suddenly it hit me. Chad would be invading my room like I'd invaded his. Only this time, there were worse items in my room that could easily expose all my secrets to him if he found the right one.

My laughter died abruptly as my face hardened to unresponsive, traumatized stone.

Ok, I've never really done a sort of end-of-chapter-question before, so here it goes: What do you think the 'specific item' is that Sonny was thinking about? Click that pretty little green button below and state your thoughts! =)