A/N:Here's chapter two for y'all. Actually...i sorta combined chapters 2 and 3, but only because they didn't seem right alone. Hope you like it!

Disclaimer:I only own the plot, the name Davies, and Greg. The song 'Before He Cheats' belongs to the talented Carrie Underwood.

Christine grumbled as Greg pulled her on stage. Meg was so dead. "I didn't put my name in, Greg. I'm a dancer, not a singer," she said, her pleas falling on deaf ears

Greg chuckled. "I'll be sure to have a dance contest sometime, princess," he replied, shoving a mic into her hand. "Go show them how it's done," he said, knowing that she could be a pretty phenomenal singer...when she wanted to be. "Okay, folks. Christine here says she can't sing; that she's only a simple dancer from Juliard. Let us be the judge of that, huh?" he pushed a button and the familiar song started.

Christine sighed and lifted her mic.

-Right now

He's probably slow dancing with some bleach-blonde tramp and she's probably getting frisky

Right now

He's probably buying her some fruity little drink cause she can't shoot the whiskey

Right now

He's probably up behind her with a pool stick showing her how to shoot a combo

And he don't know...

That I dug my key into the side

Of his pretty little souped up four-wheel drive

Carved my name into his leather seats

Took a Louisville Slugger to both headlights

Slashed a hole in all four tires

Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats-

Meg watched Christine's transformation as the song went on. She went from dull to electrifying, as she moved around the stage with her ballet grace. "Go, Christine!" she yelled, as the song reached its climax.

-I might have saved a little trouble for the next girl

Cause the next time that he cheats

Oh you know it won't be on me

end -

The song ended and Christine wiped the sweat from her forehead. Her breathing heavy, she handed her mic back to Greg. "That was amazing," she breathed, as applause deafened her ears.

He smiled and handed her a folder. "It's not thought on our part, Chris. You most defiantly are the winner. Meg was right."

Her brows shot up. "Meg?" Now it was all starting to fall into place.

"Yeah. She told Erik that you would never pursue a singing career, so we set up this contest."

"Erik...? You set it up...?Greg, what's going on?" She was confused, to say the least.

Greg grabbed her arm and steered towards the VIP lounge stairs. "Erik Roberts is the founder of Phantom Records. He agreed to come out tonight and hear you. We staged this contest and knew you wouldn't resist."

Christine stopped walking. "You think I came here to join the contest? I came to get Meg."

Greg chuckled. "Of course, you did; It was all part of the plan. We knew that you'd come and get Meg, if she didn't show up by curfew." He continued to pull her up the stairs, only pausing when they reached their destination. "If you wanna but someone's balls, bust hers. She was the mastermind behind this," he said and shoved Christine through the open door.

Fuming, Christine waited till the door shut to give her friend an earful. "Meg-" she started, but was cut off by her friend.

"I know you're probably mad, Chris, but Erik really is interested," she said, handing her friend a bottle of water.

Christine took a swig and wiped the remaining sweat from her brow. "Meg...I'm not a singer. Dancing is my life; always has been. It's the same with you. We'll dance till we're too old, then we'll spend the rest of our days-"

"Teaching other young hopefuls," finished Meg, a roll to her eyes. "I know, Chris," she paused to fiddle with the hem of her tank top, "but I don't want to end up like my mother," she stated, her blue eyes laughing. "Dancing isn't the path your father wanted you to take," she murmured, instantly regretting her words.

Christine's chocolate eyes blinked back tears as she took a deep breath. "My fathers not around, now is he?" She turned to leave, only to walk into a firm, strong body. As she fell to the ground, many expletives left her mouth.

"Meg...you never told me how vulgar she was," the figure stated, offering the cursing teen a hand.

Christine grumbled as she was pulled to her feet. "I don't know who you think you are, but I'd rather not stick around to find out." She reached for the doorknob, only to have a strong hand cover hers.

"My name is Erik Roberts, Ms. Davies, and I'm quite sure I'd like to find out more about you."

The room was silent for a minute, then Christine wrenched her hand away from his. "Mr. Roberts...I don't care to be hit upon by complete strangers, especially mask wearing ones," she replied, elbowing him, slightly harder than she needed to, out from infront of the door. "I'll see you back at school, Meg," she threw over her shoulder and exited the room.

Meg suppressed a laugh, as she handed Erik a bottle of water. "Good show, brother dear. She doesn't get physical, unless she likes the guy."

Erik took the bottle, glaring at the blonde. "You never told me that she took defense lessons, " he mumbled, zipping up his jacket.

Meg let her laugh free. "You never asked." Linking her arm in his, she inquired, "Walk me back to school?" At his raised brow, she quickly answered, "Mama would like to see you."

Erik nodded, putting aside any of Meg's matchmaking notions. "You just want to tell her I got beat up by a girl."

Meg flashed him her innocent face. "Who, me?"

As they walked through the crowd, Erik reminded the girl of something," Remember...I'm not the one who called Antoinette an old maid."

Meg rounded on him. "I never said that, you brute," her eyes twinkling though.

Erik smiled; his first one since he had heard Christine sing. "But she doesn't know that, know does she?"