A/N - In case anyone was wondering; I already have the night Nina and Fabian met pre-written, so I didn't make the flashbacks up on the spot. You guys will read the night they met once chapter 25 is published; that's a whole 18 chapters away! :o

Whew, I'm actually writing this chapter early; it's Monday evening right now. Despite what you may think, writing two multi-chapters at the same time is actually kind of exhausting. I have a whole notebook dedicated to Don't Be Afraid and Lost & Found.

All right, let's begin Chapter 7! In total, Lost & Found is going to have 26 chapters (27 if I have an epilogue.) If I update every week from now on, Lost & Found should end on September 13th, 2013. This chapter focuses a little more on Fabian's fame c:

DISCLAIMER: I don't own House of Anubis; all rights go to Nickelodeon. And even if I changed my name to Nickelodeon, it still wouldn't be mine. Jerome, however, is trying to smuggle me the papers so I can own it. Let's see how it goes...

I do hope you enjoy this chapter, and I hope you have a sparkling day~
~Julianna

Fabian
Chapter 7: "The Interview"

The dreaded day finally arrived.

Aaron had told me many, many weeks ago that he scheduled an interview for me, but I brushed it aside. I completely forgot about the interview that was supposed to be on September 16th, so I was rudely awakened by the one and only Isabelle, the oldest of the Rutter siblings.

Being famous was exhausting.

Isabelle had no sympathy for me as she shook me wake, making me fall out of my bed. Instead of helping me up, she laughed at me from above and muttered as she walked out of the room, "Get dressed. Mum is making me drive you to the interview. And in the car, maybe you can tell me why you made everyone evacuate the house the other day."

So I made myself get up off the floor after many minutes of debating, brushed my teeth and combed the mop that I called my hair, pulled on some appealing clothes, and trudged downstairs, a throw blanket still around my shoulders.

"Where is everyone?" I yawned, plopping down on the couch inside the common room. I closed my eyes, trying to fall back asleep, but someone slapped my cheek to bring me back to Earth.

"Stay awake," Isabelle commanded as she placed a bowl of cereal on my lap, knocking milk all over my jeans. "If we don't show up to this interview, Aaron will track you down and slaughter you in your sleep."

I rolled my eyes, picking up the spoon and shoving some cereal into my mouth. Aaron was a good guy, don't get me wrong; he just annoyed me sometimes to the point where I wanted to strangle him, then bring him back to life, just so I could kill him in a different way. Today was one of those days; I really didn't feel like getting up and going to an interview, considering it was a Sunday.

"You never answered my question," I complained loudly, so Isabelle could hear me over the hair dryer. "Where is everyone else?"

Turning off the machine, Isabelle came into the common room and sat down next to me. "They're already at the station," she answered, combing her hair back with her hands. "Some people want to be on time. Oh, and Mick and Jerome said they'd meet you there as well."

Isabelle glanced at her watch, and her eyes grew to the size of tennis balls. "Fabian! Are you ready?"

"Almost..." I mused, glancing over my body and checking if there were any flaws in my choice of clothing. "Why?"

"Because we literally only have twenty minutes to get to the station before the interview starts! What are you stalling for? Go, go, go!" she pushed me into my room to make myself look more presentable than before. With only fifteen minutes to spare, we sprinted to the car and sped towards the station.

When we were cruising down the highway, Isabelle sighed with relief. "We're going to make it," she breathed, checking me over one last time for confirmation. "Eh," was all she said in response to her scan.

I opened my book and got lost in it; living in a world other than one where Isabelle was screaming at me to get ready for an interview I didn't even want to give. I loved what I did more than anything else in the world, but sometimes all I wanted was some time to myself.

"All right," Isabelle began, clapping her hands together. She didn't move her gaze from the road as she asked me, "Why did you ask me to evacuate the house with everyone a few days ago? No lies, please, Fabian."

I pursed my lips, trying to think of a way to word it. I couldn't just come out and say it...Isabelle would think I'm lying...or she'd tell Mum...

"If I tell you," I said, cautiously, "You have to promise me that you will tell no one."

"Why, is it really that bad?" she chuckled, her eyes glued to the road in front of her. At least she wasn't seeing how red my face was turning.

"Well...yeah, it kind of it is," I admitted, scratching the back of my neck. I never wanted anyone to know, and now five people knew: Mick, Jerome, Alfie, Chloe, and Isabelle would as soon as I stopped being a coward. "Well, you see...when I was sixteen...I, well, um..."

"Spit it out, kid!"

"When I was sixteen, I met someone in a coffee shop. She was an amazing person, and I wanted to know more about her. I asked her to come home with me, and, well...something happened."

Isabelle cocked an eyebrow.

Fuck it. I'll just spit it out. "I got a fifteen-year-old girl pregnant in the summer of 2009."

Isabelle was so shocked she almost slammed her head into the steering wheel. She didn't say anything until we were stopped at the traffic light; and then all she did was look at me with an appalled look. "Oh my God, Fabian. OH MY GOD! You bastard! You had the balls to get a girl pregnant at fifteen? Wait, no, don't tell me. Don't tell me. You're a father?!"

"Yes," was my answer to all of her questions. "I had the balls to get a poor fifteen-year-old pregnant. I know that I'm a bastard. I have addressed that. I'm a father...I'm a dad."

"Fabian," Isabelle breathed, not daring to look at me. She was shaking her head and muttering to herself, but I couldn't catch any of the words. I could tell she was having a hard time letting the information sink in; I understood, of course. I could still remember how I felt when I read Nina's name on the photograph all those weeks ago.

"I know," I said guiltily, scratching the back of my head. I didn't see the need to continue the conversation, so I remained silent, but Isabelle thought differently.

She mumbled, "Does Mum know?" and I shook my head in response to her question. She threw her head back in exasperation, and I knew I was in deep trouble. "Mum doesn't know she's a grandmother? You're in for it now, kiddo...wait, if my brother is a dad, does that mean...I'm an aunt? I have a niece?"

"Yeah, I guess you do."

"Cool!" she cheered, almost as if she had completely forgot about how distressed she was two seconds ago. "What's my niece's name?"

"Emma," I answered, still not used to saying the name myself. I had probably said the name 'Emma' about a million times, but I'd never get used to saying it. Emma was my daughter.

Isabelle smiled, muttering to herself, "Aunt Isabelle. I could get used to that."

xXx

Eventually, we arrived at the station, sprinting inside the building. When Rosie, one of my older sisters, caught my eye, she rushed me into the room where the person was supposed to interview me. In the corner of the room, nine people were standing there: my mother, my father, Rosie, Chloe, Olivia, Isabelle, Aaron (my manager), Jerome, Mick, and Amber. The sight of my friends and family gave me more confidence, but it also made me more nervous than I was before.

With only twenty seconds to spare, I sat down in the chair, leaning back, trying to catch my breath. The man in the other chair touched my arm, trying to bring my attention back to Earth and the interview at hand. He handed me the microphone, counted down from five, and the interview began.

"Hello, and welcome to Steve's Dip with the one and only Steve Dutton!" the man announced into the microphone, so I presumed his name was Steve. He continued, "We're here today with Fabian Rutter, one of the most popular and well-known singers of this year! So tell me, Fabian, how's fame like for you?"

I didn't expect a question to come so quickly, so I was caught off guard for a minute. Unfortunately, though, Aaron had prepped me for interviews; I'd only given a few in my entire career. I knew when to answer and how to answer.

"Fame is okay," I answered the interviewer (Steve's) question. A smile from Aaron told me that I was doing my job correctly. "I like it. It's what I always dreamed of. And now that I have it...I love it."

"Well, that's great, Fabian," Steve smiled, reaching over to pat me on the shoulders. The movement was awkward between us both, and we both knew that, so he released his grip and continued talking. "Do you think you have some competition with One Direction, there, mate? I mean...they're known worldwide and you're still in the Liverpool area!"

"Yes, I know," I answered nonchalantly, as if the question didn't faze me at all; which, in all honesty, it didn't. "But it's not like I'm going to be jealous. Sure, my youngest sister may love them, even though she tries to act like she doesn't-" I caught Olivia's gaze from the other side of the room, and she giggled. I continued, "but I'm my own person. I have an amazing band, amazing songs to sing, and an amazing cast of family and friends. I love what I do and I love my life right now. Sure, maybe I'm working on going worldwide, but right now, if I'm limited to the Liverpool area, that's what it is and I'm thankful for everything."

From the corner of my eye, I could see my mum hold her hand to her heart. Aaron gave me a thumbs up, and I knew I was saying the right thing. Steve said something else, but I wasn't listening very intently. I figured he was just saying something to the audience that was listening (Well, if there actually was an audience.), so it wasn't necessary that I listen.

I wasn't lying about what I said; sure, One Direction, The Beatles, and so many other artists from Britain were more popular than Fabian Rutter, but I didn't care. I had fans, and that was all that mattered to me. According to Aaron, I was 'climbing the charts and my popularity was growing by the day'. Soon enough, more people would know the name Fabian Rutter.

I was already sure there was one person who would always know that name, even if she didn't want to.

"Well, we know that there are already plenty of people who love you, Fabian," Steve told me, awkwardly placing his hand on my shoulder. He removed it quickly, trying to diminish the awkwardness by saying, "Well, then. Tell the people listening: How do you spend your day when you're not working?"

"How do I spend my day?" I asked, repeating his question. "Well...I usually hang out with my friends, Jerome and Mick. This other guy, Alfie, comes in sometimes, but I don't see him all that often. He may be annoying, but he's a good kid. And there's Amber, who's probably the most obsessed fangirl anyone will ever meet, and she's eighteen. She's convinced that she's going to marry David Beckham, yet she still has extreme respect for Victoria Beckham. As Amber would like to say: WWVBD. What Would Victoria Beckham do?

"I like to hang out with my friends, take a ride or two, you know. Just hang out like a normal nineteen-year-old man would do. Fame can be exhausting, but it doesn't take away my love that I have towards my friends."

Aaron winked; yet another signal that I was doing my job correctly. Amber had her face buried in her hands, but when she lifted her head, she was laughing. Mick was smirking, and all of my sisters were pretending to gag.

"I have a few more questions for you, Fabian, so don't think you're leaving now!" Steve smiled, pushing me back down in my seat in front of the microphone. I wasn't planning on leaving; I actually just wanted to check what the time was.

"Ask away," I told the interviewer, ready to answer any question that was thrown at me. If Nina could answer my question about her being a virgin so easily, I could answer questions about my fame.

"How did you become a singer slash song-writer?" he asked, and my eyes widened.

"Well, that's actually a long story," I breathed, trying to think of a different way to word it than it really was. I couldn't say the real story while I was on the air; I'd most likely get slaughtered in my sleep from the person who gave me the courage to do it. "Well, I was in a performing arts school for a while, but I was struggling with writing a song...but many people pushed me into finishing it, and I gave it to a producer, and they loved it. They signed me onto their record deal after hearing me sing, and now here I am, on this radio broadcast with you!"

That was the truth. Not the whole truth; but the truth.

"Ah, very good, very good," he murmured, almost as if he was trying to remember my answer for later. "Yes," Steve said, dragging the e. "All right, another question for the eager fans out there: your team. What do you think about everyone on it?"

I explained, even though it probably took up like half of our time. I told Steve about the guitarist, James; the dummer, Matthew; and other instrumentalists in my band, including Colin, Marcus, Zach, and Christopher. Then came Aaron, which I probably scared half the audience away with, because I stated what I wanted to do to him (Strangle him, then bring him back to life, just so I could kill him in a different way).

There were more questions, even though I barely remember them. But there was one question that stuck in my head; it was the last question Steve asked before the interview ended.

"Now, tell me, Fabian," he began, tapping his pencil on the desk. "I'm sure there are plenty of girls that want to be your girlfriend...are you single? Or are you taken, a handsome man like you?"

Shit.

Shit.

I couldn't just come out and say that I got a fifteen-year-old girl pregnant when I was sixteen, and now we're trying to make things work as a family. That wouldn't work. Rumors would start about me and I'd be shunned from everyone I'd ever know. I'd be on the cover of magazines everywhere; I could already see the headlines.

In a panic, I looked to Aaron for help. He met my eyes and formed three letters with his fingers: L. I. E.

LIE.

He wanted me to make up a lie. To say that yes, I was happy and single, living a carefree life with my friends, without a thought about a girl in the world.

As much as I wanted to do that, I couldn't. I was a father now; I had to take responsibility. I wasn't just going to come out and say it, of course; but I couldn't lie completely.

My sisters were motioning for me to lie too; Chloe and Isabelle were the ones that were doing it the most. Mum and Dad looked confused, but I couldn't blame them. Even with my sisters and Aaron telling me to stretch the truth, I had to take responsibility.

"Well...you see, I was reunited with an old friend of mine a few weeks ago," I stated, scratching the back of my head. "We've been talking by email since then. I haven't seen her in a while, so it's nice to talk to her. So...I don't even know where we're going yet, but I hope it's a positive climb instead of negative."

Steve smiled, and he said something else, but I was too obsessed with watching Isabelle and Chloe hold their arms up in exasperation and argue with each other. Soon enough, Steve ended the interview, and I was driving home with my sisters.

The ride home was a blur of yells and screams from Isabelle and Chloe. Rosie and Olivia were confused about why the two were screaming at me, but I ignored them. I was thinking about all that happened; how I answered, and what people would say. I knew that I couldn't say the whole truth; I knew that I would be called out for it, and I couldn't let that happen to Nina also. She was only seventeen, and she was struggling with a two-year-old daughter; she didn't need more shit to deal with.

When Isabelle pulled up the long road to the house, I jumped out of the car and ran up the stairs to my room. I grabbed my laptop from under the bed and started to type a message to Nina; she responded rather quickly.

Fabian Rutter: Hey there. Did you listen to my radio broadcast today? Oh, wait; you're Nina Martin, the obsessed fan.
Nina Martin: You learn quickly.
Fabian Rutter: Do you think I embarrassed myself too badly?
Nina Martin: Nah - you handled it well. I don't think I learned anything new about you, though.
Fabian Rutter: Thanks, I guess...I'm just lucky that Aaron didn't give me a Confidence Lesson before the interview though...
Nina Martin: "Confidence Lesson"?
Fabian Rutter: Yeah; my manager has given me these things called "Confidence Lessons" ever since 2010, when I was first starting out as an artist. I was really shy back then, so Aaron, being the annoying man he is, decided to intervene by trying to make me more confident. I'm supposed to have one tomorrow. Fun.
Nina Martin: Oh my God haha. I have to tell someone; that's priceless.
Fabian Rutter: You sound like Jerome.
Nina Martin: Ah, Jerome would be your friend.
Fabian Rutter: Nina Martin, if you're stalking me, please retreat from my window. Thank you.
Nina Martin: By the way, you're out of milk.
Fabian Rutter: Haha, you're so funny. Hey...I gotta go. I'll talk to you later.
Nina Martin: Okay. Tell me when you're free.

After that, I logged off and closed the laptop. I wouldn't have said goodbye if I didn't want to; I heard the door slam and I knew that Mick, Jerome, and Amber were here; with my luck, Alfie would be here, too.

I jumped down the stairs and Mick bro-hugged me. I hadn't seen him in a week, other than when I glimpsed him throughout the interview. Jerome and I linked hands; he may back-stab me a lot, but he was still my friend. Amber was different, though; she hugged me with all her might, and I hugged back. Amber was really sweet, and I loved hanging out with her, even though I never saw her anymore.

Alfie was there, just as I expected. We said an awkward hello, but it was quickly diminished as I ushered everyone into the den. My sisters and my parents were seated in the common room, so our group had the room to ourselves.

"Okay," Jerome started, clapping his hands together. "Raise your hand if you know Fabian's secret."

Three out of the four people raised their hands; Jerome, Mick, and Alfie. Amber was the only one left; she was looking from one person to the other, trying to decipher their actions. She moved closer to me on the couch and whispered in my ear: "What's your secret?"

Chuckling, Alfie ripped a piece of paper from my song notebook and wrote something on it. After he handed it to Amber, she took five seconds to read it, and she gasped. "Fabian!" she breathed, and I knew I was in for a scolding. "You're a fath-"

"Shh!" I scolded, placing a finger on Amber's lips. I whispered, "I don't want Mum or Dad to know. God, Dad would probably disown me if he knew..."

"Wow," she mumbled, looking at me with her eyes the size of tennis balls. "I can't believe that you're a father...do you have a son or a daughter?"

"A daughter," I answered, and I was surprised that Amber didn't squeal. She loved kids; little girls in general. Now that she knew I had a daughter, she'd probably pester me until I caved and said she could see her.

Much to my surprise, all Amber asked me was, "What's her name?"

I smiled. "Emma."

And for the rest of the day, we all hung out together. Alfie told his ideas about how the "asteroid" that killed the dinosaurs was really a UFO and we're all aliens; Jerome was ignoring us by playing a game on his handheld; Amber wouldn't stop asking me questions; and Mick was kicking a football up into the air. None of us were bothered by the silence; we liked each others company.

It was noon. What I didn't know was that the mother of my child was on the edge of a breakdown, all because I was downstairs hanging out with my friends; therefore unable to answer her messages.

A/N - Well...I guess you could call that a cliffhanger. I have no talent for writing cliffies; if you want a good cliffhanger, go consult Rick Riordan. I swear, that man sits in his chair thinking of ways to torture us while stroking his invisible beard. I'm warning you; never, EVER read his books. His writing is phenomenal and his stories are too; the only bad thing about his books are the FUCKING CLIFFHANGERS. OH MY GODS. HE'S RUINING MY LIFE.

Okay, so rant over. The next chapter, "The Bully" will be up next week, May 3rd. It's in Nina's POV, and also contains a little Neddie friendship! c: (As you can see, I'm obsessed with Neddie.) Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope you have a sparkling day!~
~Julianna