This chapter will be a tad important, so I suggest you focus on the details closely if you really want more of a dramatic side of the plotline this time.

October 17th 2013

Christine's Pov

Well my life was just a freaking soap opera, now wasn't it? Not only was a new Barbie trying to walk all over me, but now I had a close, not-willing-to-lose friend lying around with a bunch of God-knows-what pumping through her from a bunch of wires and machines. And that wasn't even because of a hospital—where she should be in her condition. But all hell would break loose if I was to have said something, and I knew when to keep my mouth shut.

Not only that, but it was only three weeks before opening night. The plan was the have two shows each day for three days—that Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. That sounded pretty basic and like a simple plan, but it was hard to keep a play from slipping (even in rehearsals) when the main gears of the operation was sick with a virus no one except a handful of people knew about.

Suffice to say, Rachel and the girls didn't take the news likely upon finding out about Bree's condition. They knew enough about our talents to know "sickness" and "mental maintenance" were never good phrases to have come up about a bionic teenager.

There was a lot screaming and complaining and whining and then more screaming, while Ashley, Sammie, and Janelle just seemed to let Rachel do all the talking. Believe me, she did enough of it for an entire meeting of people.

"Why do I have to come with you?" Ashley whined as I dragged her along to the drama office. It was small, basically a walk-in closet smashed against the auditorium, but it was enough storage room to keep Alissa satisfied.

"Oh, quit your whining."

"But it's waffle Wednesday!"

"Like you'd eat anything anyway."

Judging by her silence, Ashley was pouting, but she knew I was right. She couldn't use syrup and sugary waffles to get her out of this; we were already on the other side of the school.

"Hey, Alissa?" I knocked on her open door, letting go of Ashley's wrist and gave the woman a sheepish smile. "I have some information on the condition of Bree Davenport?"

Alissa looked a bit frazzled today. Her hair was sloppy in its drooping bun; she had heavy bags under her eyes; certainly a sight to see.

"Oh." She looked up at me, startled by my presence and my partner in crime. "Yes, of course. Come in, girls."

We stepped further into her mess of an office. She had Bree's infamous clipboard in front of her, along with several other papers with different topics on all of them. I never thought a drama teacher's assistant could ever be this busy.

Alissa sipped at some coffee. Black—no sugar or cream or anything. Yuck. "The office ladies were vague with what they told me," she informed us as she drank away. "Just saying Bree would be out for an indefinite amount of time due to personal issues on her and her family's part."

I didn't bother explaining that the office ladies were only vague with information because that's only type of information they had.

"Well, yes, that mostly covers it…" I began, only to be cut off by Alissa holding up a hand.

"You girls aren't pulling something are you? Drama students can be really persistent with what rumors they want you to believe."

I sat up straighter in my chair. Could I really call myself a drama student when I haven't even had a performance yet? Whatever, I wasn't going dwell on it at the moment.

"No, no, it's nothing like that," I assured her. "As you might know, our families are super close. Bree's absence is due to nothing too major, except she has come down with a sudden illness that is currently being taken into great care." I nodded, approved by my words. "The longest she should be out is three to four weeks."

"Weeks?" Alissa repeated, sound skeptical. "And what was the illness Bree is suffering from again?" She knew I hadn't said anything about the type of sickness it was. I could tell by the pointed look she was shooting me from over her mug. The stench of black coffee was strong and stirred my stomach.

"Oh, they're saying her symptoms lead to a horrid case of stomach flu, miss," Ashley jumped in, saving my lying ass. "But the doctors were very uptight, let's say, with the information they let our parents inform us with. But yeah, they say stomach flu."

Alissa took a long drink of her coffee before responding. I shuddered, the stench of her plain, black coffee hitting Ashley and I like a tidal wave as she let out a large breath. "Okay, I suppose I'll believe you for now." She pointed a stern finger at us, wagging it between us threateningly like it was a dagger. I guess to a teacher, it was like one. "But if I hear more coming from you two than what you told me, there will be words."

Oh. Words, how frightening.

Really, she practically had me shaking.

Lunch past by quite suspiciously, but blandly uneventful. I didn't know what it was, but something about the way Tina kept pointing and snickering at our group with her soon to be cronies, I didn't get as much of a stir out of it today. Having a best friend in a practical coma could do that to you I suppose.

Unlike me, Rachel had no problem finding something messed up about it. "She really just needs to screw off," she thought aloud. While her words were wise, they were obvious in their form as well. "I shouldn't have to put up with my own drama then her drama all stacked together like at an all you can pancake buffet. That's just too much, even for high school."

I couldn't help but agree. We each individually had our own messes to solve, and layering whatever the Walters Barbie was trying to stir up on top of it was a real distress her.

"Purple llamas smoke cotton candy."

Chase just nodded, not even hearing the gasp of surprise coming from the girls and the quiet, "I knew it!" flying out of Adam's mouth excitedly.

"Sure, babe. That sounds awesome."

"I knew it!" I cried in an accusing tone. "You're not listening to me. What's so important on that thing anyway?" I stuck a finger in front of his eyes that were glued onto the screen of his iPad.

He finally looked up, bleary eyed and everything. He looked like a drowned raccoon, and that was a pretty generous description, to put it shortly.

"Up all night again?" I asked, knowing I was right. Ever since we'd discovered what we had about Bree, Chase had been pouring himself over everything possibility of what it could possibly be. The weight of something being out of his control was sitting heavy on him; his shoulders slumped as if they carried it alone.

I couldn't imagine what it was like to watch this happen to a sibling. I already felt helpless enough as a friend, but to be really related to her? It must be twice as worse. Maybe even more so.

Chase looked back to the screen, tap, tap, tapping away at the keyboard. I tried to process what the image was, but it looked like nothing except a complex blueprint to me; it felt so weird to have an intelligent, superior boyfriend that made you feel like a moron sometimes.

"I'm measuring the possibilities of all the interactions Bree had over the few months that could have developed the virus." His teeth practically gnawed each other apart as he grinded out the word "virus."

"I'm sure she'll be fine," I tried to assure him and myself as well. "Didn't you say she broke an arm and a leg once when you sparred with her?"

That got some questioning looks and suspiciously raised eyebrows amongst the table.

"That was different," Chase protested defensively. "That was Spike's fault; I wasn't even conscious until after she was properly given her casts."

I'd heard several stories on Spike rearing his egotistical head at surprising moments. Apparently more than jealously and anger could make him appear when they were younger. The aforementioned incident of Bree's broken limbs happened when they were twelve and thirteen, doing a late night practice training session. I've heard of other times happening around the same ages, earliest being ten and the oldest being last year.

But this was different—he was right about that. Chase could deal with apologizing to Bree about his freaky split persona breaking a couple bones her bionics could heal in a week or two. The virus however was way deeper than shattered arms and legs could ever go, believe it or not. And it was tearing it up inside.

So now, as the girlfriend, I dealt with the guilt of seeing two people in pain: my boyfriend and my best friend. (Well, more than that I guess, but the others had resorted to sulking amongst themselves, so I couldn't really count that, now could I?)

"Hey, Chase. Sorry to hear about Brylee." Oh God, here we go.

Chase swung around to a stand from his seat, facing Tina was a fierce scowl set deep into his handsome features. His eyes were darkened into a painful glare. "Hey name is Bree," my boyfriend spat out in a growl.

"Whatever," was all Tina said impassively, batting her eyelashes and sticking out her chest as her tight tube top slipped down ever further over her booty shorts. Wrong move, Barbie.

To her great disadvantage, Rachel and the others had now risen from their seats, including me. When it came to each other, it was just natural to act as a pack, a trait that hadn't worn off from when we saved each other's asses helping Chase and I sneak around. It came in handy for moments like these.

"Screw off Barbie," Sammie barked. Her friendly eyes were hungry for a fight and ready for war, steeled and guarded. It was the fiercest I've ever seen her, and I couldn't be more proud. "No one asked for your ugly face around here anyway."

Tina went by unfazed by our group defenses. "It would be such a shame if anything else happened to her, wouldn't it?" she continued. She just didn't know when to stop.

Chase stepped even closer, his breath becoming angry pants as he growled, "What do you know? Tell me now!"

Their faces were mere inches apart and despite the circumstances, something switched on in my person somewhere and I stepped closer as well; Tina was close enough to do something dangerous like touching him.

"You can't prove I did anything."

"You're playing a risky game, Barbie," I countered, stepping up. Tina turned her attention to me, sneering like I was a fly caught in her web.

She smacked her gum loudly, making spit fly into my face. "And what exactly do you think I'm play?" she drawled it out so casually, like mentioning something as normal as a party, that it peaked my anger.

I stepped closer. "Listen here," My words were nothing but a hiss, "if you think we're going to let you get away with your big games, that's you problem. But after we get to the bottom of this, everyone will see what a cheater you are."

"Not likely." Barbie gave me her biggest plastic smile, spit a little more in face with that stupid gum smacking thing. Then she strutted away, taking such long and dramatic steps that I hoped she fell straight on her ass.

Play practice was less ugly than everyone thought it would be. Sure, Tina was still a brat, prancing around like she owned the freaking place, but that was per the norm. But what happened at lunch still hung heavy, creating very obvious tension between many of the cast players.

Ashley and Janelle were looking down the clipboard in the west wing, eyebrows furrowed. They looked at me as I sat near the middle of the stage with my script and granola bar. What the hell? They seemed to ask. I shrugged and gave them a preppy smile; if they couldn't handle it, they shouldn't have signed up for the gig.

Because of Bree's absence, Alissa had asked for a temporary assistant. Ashley signed up for the job, claiming that it would make for a wonderful mark on her college applications, and Janelle joined her because no one else. Alissa was grateful for the extra sets of hands because "if she had to do any more work than what she had, she was going to scream and throw herself off stage."

Her words, not mine.

But in a weird sense, I could understand where she was going from. If Tina did more than what she was pushing already, and if fate decided it was time to throw in yet another curve ball, it could possible lead me to pulling out all my hair in frustration and living out the rest of my years as a bald, ticked off lunatic.

Like my fourth grade teacher.

"Hey, wanna work on some lines?"

I looked up to the shadow blocking all my script light. Callan stood there in all his school jersey and beach blond glory, acting like the God he knew everyone saw him as. Despite what I may have thought at the beginning of the year, he was actually the least source of drama I've had to deal with since the school year began. Either way, the weird, seducing looks he was slyly doing sometimes was creeping me out just a little bit.

I decided to ignore them for now.

"Sure, that'd be great." I jumped from my position on the stage and stretched my limbs, grabbing my script from my feet swiftly. "Where you wanna start?"

"I dunno—page six, scene two?" I didn't know the scenes straight off the top of my head, but I knew it was a lovey dovey scene. No kissing, that had been earlier in the play (stupid student writers putting in more lip action than necessary.)

Page six was maybe one of the worst sections of the entire script. While I had warmed up to the high school play material a bit, it was still rubbish compared to what other schools did for Romeo and Juliet. My cousin's school's version in New York was like a Broadway performance compared to this. I mean, really, the entire page was basically the two main characters having eye sex on the balcony until they throw themselves at each other in a kissing session.

That was just disgracing Shakespeare and his entire purpose of the play entirely.

"You start," I said to Callan, still looking down at my script. I knew what the page was going to say, and I knew how to devote myself to character for this scene, but I wasn't going to start. Juliet's opening line was a bit…tipsy? Was that the word I'm looking for? Maybe even ditzy would cover it, which was pretty offensive.

"You know," Callan said instead of his line. What he was supposed to say was, "my darling, the night's beauty be shame in thy's light." (Possibly the best line in the entire scene, no joke.) "I've been having trouble with my play memorization. Do you think you could come over tonight and help me study them?"

I tore my gaze away from his hopeful face to look at Chase, who was talking happily with Gemma as she chattered on about God-knows-what. We were supposed to have a little group session that night and ditching it for extra play practice—no matter how much it was needed—didn't seem right.

"I'm actually kinda busy tonight," I tried to say gently, purposely avoiding the deflated look that overpowered Callan's hopeful one. I felt bad about it, even though he wasn't exactly my top priority at the moment—not with a bunch of other stressful drama was erupting around me.

"But, if you really need the practice, how about I come to your place this weekend? Saturday around noon?" But I trying not to explode didn't mean I had to completely crush a guy, right? Plus it wouldn't hurt to take an hour or so to focus on something calm for a change.

Callan beamed at me. He looked like an orphan kid being adopted on Christmas. "Yes, that's perfect! See you then." He gave me one of those boyishly annoying wink-smiles before going over to a clump of extras and backstage peoples.

I was about to focus on the end of my script (the few pages I've been forgetting to study, sue me) when a pair of soft lips kissed my neck. I leaned into his broad chest as he wrapped an arm around my waist.

"Hey." My boyfriend grinned against my skin, swinging me around to face him. I smiled and daringly risked a ten second lip-smashing kiss with him. Luckily, Alissa had been cornered by Ashley and Janelle, still flipping out about how they had no clue what they were doing. "I was thinking we should do something."

"Talking is something," I pointed out. Because, even though he's "engineered to be the most intelligent being to walk Earth," a girlfriend needed to have her moments. Chase gave me look but kept his mouth shut. Smart boy.

"I was hinting that we go out this weekend," Chase replied, pulling me closer so that our breath mingled with each other's. "Because if I have to hang around for one more Hurricane Rachel tantrum, I'm going to die."

"Eh, don't worry." I patted his shoulder sympathetically. "I'll hose you off the walls."

"How kind of you to offer."

"Just doing my job."

He laughed, gorgeous brown eyes sparkling as he looked down on me. "Movies, this weekend. I know you've been killing to see that Oz one."

My eyes widened as I gripped his arm tightly, squeezing it with insane strength. "Oh my God! I've wanted to see that for months!"

"I know."

"Don't be cocky; when're we going?" I asked excitedly, beginning to jump around and clap my hands. I couldn't help my blooming excitement—Disney movies (or anything, seriously) always had a way of boosting my happiness. The thought of their always being a happy ending was so naïve and hopeful, it was hard not to love the concept.

"Saturday, 12 o'clock showing?" Chase grinned down at me, so happy and glittery eyed, that it made my heart pang as it my giddiness instantly deflated.

I couldn't do two things at once when they were across town. And ditching Callan wouldn't be fair after I already rain checked him for today.

"I…can't make it," I said meekly, looking down to the navy blue toes of my Nikes.

"What? I thought you said you've been dying to see this movie?" Fortunately Chase sounded more puzzled than angry…for now.

"I have a play practice that time—with Callan." I tried to say the last part as quietly as possible. I didn't need Chase going off or Spike making a sudden appearance to wreck everything that had been rocky in the first place. Why must teenagers make their high school lives so complicated? Especially the "highly confidential" and "bionic based" ones?

I looked up from my shoes, my free hand not nursing my script messing with the strings to my cropped sweats. Chase was strangely quiet, his face blank; I hated when he blocked himself out like that. I could hardly read him when he wasn't doing it. Sometimes it was difficult to tell if he was doing it on purpose or not—this was not one of those times.

"I see," Chase said finally, as sharp and emotionless as I expected. It still made me cringe. "I hope you guys have fun on your little date."

My eyes widened. "It's not a date!" I cried after him, grabbing at his arm as I hurry after him across the stage. By now our little lover's quarrel was caught by several other cast mates, including Gemma and Damon.

Chase swung back around. I took a step back in surprise at his quick movements. "It sure seems like it, with how much time you rather spend with him than me." His eyes weren't sparking any more; they just stormed sadly and angrily. He was hurt.

"He asked for help first," I tried to protest softly. "I didn't mean to—"

"That's just it," Chase interrupted. This time he sounded more exhausted than anything. "You never mean to, Chris, but someone always takes the blow from the mess. And I'm really tired of it always being me."

Words clung and stuck to my throat, my mouth as tasteless and dry as cotton as I watch my boyfriend walk away with every possible worst emotion washing over me.

Maybe I was truly learning the tragedy to my part now, thanks to my own mess screwing up everything else I held close to me in my life.

I'm gonna leave it there, because the chapter's getting a little bit too lengthy.

First off, who loves the cover? I made it myself, but was inspired by a cover made from Beta from AlphaBetaSoup. (I'm not really sure if there's two of them or not, but I'm just gonna go along with it.) I made another one for Forbidden Love as well, so go to my profile and click on the story if you're interested in seeing it.

Secondly, I really love this chapter. Well, not love, but really satisfied with it I should say. I think it will definitely raise some questions out of you, some of which I hope you guys leave in a review for us.

Sorry for leaving you with a cliff-hanger, but it wouldn't be much of a dramatic love story if some of those weren't thrown in there. And I also apologize for the little Disney paragraph there; I just saw the new Oz movie they came out with that opening weekend and loved it. Totally recommending it.

Another important note, I will be coming out with a couple new stories throughout March-May, maybe even going into June. Two of them will be Lab Rats, one Austin & Ally, and one Wizards Of Waverly Place. If those categories/shows interest you, I suggest you keep a look-out for them.

I think that's it for now. Love you guys, and please continue to look for new chapters as they come along. Later!