A/N: Thanks for the reviews/comments/faves/follows and I apologize if I've made any mistakes in this chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Chapter 3: New Digs
Scarlett stood in front of the mirror in the restroom of Rocque Records, holding onto the sides of one of the many porcelain sinks. She couldn't breathe or move. She was mortified.
She swallowed back another wave of nausea, raising her head to view her reflection. Before the boys had stepped into the room, she'd been so confident. She'd worn a professional-yet-sexy outfit approved by Mercedes: a leather jacket (the bad girl staple), a Miss Sixty miniskirt, and a borrowed pair of Christian Louboutin ankle boots with black stockings. She'd been ready for anything.
The audition had been so easy for her, so effortless. One look in Logan's eyes and her insides were sent into a frenzy. She sighed at her reflection, fogging up the mirror. Her head jerked around when she registered another face in the mirror.
"Scarlett, what on earth happened back there?" Scarlett whirled, startled by the voice. A girl who looked exactly like herself faced her. The girl's arms were crossed and she looked impatient. She had the same haircut and style Scarlett had sported just a year ago. Her blue eyes blinked innocently.
"A-are you...me?" Scarlett stammered, backing into the wall. The girl rolled her eyes and smirked.
"As if. I'm the old you. Your alter ego." She was dressed in a getup Scarlett had worn on tour. "I'm here to help you." She put her hands on her hips, smiling proudly.
Scarlett frowned in confusion. "Help me what? I've already blown the audition." Her back slid down the wall and she landed helplessly on the marble tile. It was freezing on her bare thighs. "You know, maybe this wasn't meant to be. Maybe I don't deserve another chance-"
"God, who you shut up?! When did you start being such a Debbie Downer?" Alter-ego Scarlett crouched down in her stilettos so she was level with her real-life reflection. "Scarlett, you need to get back in there and take charge of the room. A little upchucking never hurt anyone. And you've got a secret weapon on your side: Mercedes."
"This isn't just your chance to make the music you want to make," Alter-ego Scarlett continued, "It's your chance to tell the world your side of the story. What working with Meredith was like. So go make Griffin and Gustavo change their minds, honey. Don't disappoint me or you'll just be disappointing yourself."
Real-life Scarlett removed her glasses to rubbed her eyes and when she reopened them, her alter ego was gone. She pressed the back of her hand to forehead to check for warmth. "I must be going crazy. Better lay off the oatmeal." Just then, the bathroom door was kicked open.
"Scarlett, you should've told me if you were sick," Nova scolded, scurrying into the restroom. She got down on her knees and felt the side of Scarlett's neck. Scarlett pushed her aunt's hand away from her, slowly standing. Mercedes walked in, grabbing a fistful of paper towels.
"I'm not sick. It was the nerves again," Scarlett huffed, brushing off her skirt. The worry lines in Nova's face disappeared as she sighed in relief. Scarlett glanced to the left at her friend who was trying to salvage what was left of her shoes. She sighed, biting her bottom lip. "I'm really sorry about your shoes, Merce."
Mercedes just shrugged. "No use crying over spilled milk, right? Daddy'll get me a new pair. And don't worry, he loved your song."
Scarlett stared at her in disbelief. "He what?"
"He loved it, Scarlett. He said it was almost better than a pair of warm pants." Nova eyebrows furrowed. What did that even mean?
"I'm gonna to assume that's a good thing," Scarlett said slowly. Mercedes nodded enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear. Scarlett's expression was soon the same as hers. Then the grin faded. "But I'm still not sure about this. I mean, where am I gonna live?"
Nova had sold the house she'd had in California not long after she'd relocated to New York with her niece, so staying there was out of the question.
"You could live with me!" Mercedes cried out suddenly, scaring the crap out of both Nova and Scarlett. "Daddy wouldn't mind."
Scarlett's aunt shook her head, her pretty features contorting into a frown. "Sweetie, I'm not sure me living with you guys there would be the best arrangement."
"Yeah, I guess that's true," Mercedes agreed, sighing. Then she snapped her fingers. "Stay in my beach house! It's just sitting in Malibu all empty, going to waste."
"Mercedes, we couldn't-"
"We'll take it!" Scarlett interrupted. Before Nova could argue, the bathroom door screeched open and Kelly's head poked inside.
"Scarlett, if you're feeling well enough, there are a few things I'd like to discuss with you about the job. I presume Mercedes told you Griffin liked your sound," she announced. "If your still feeling sick, I can schedule you in for another day."
Scarlett stepped away from her friend, crossing the room to the door. "No, I'm okay. Let's do it. By the way, I'm really sorry about the, well, you know. I normally don't get nervous. Like, ever." Kelly nodded in understanding.
"Believe it or not, it's happened more than once," Kelly assured. "So if you'll just follow me to Gustavo's office-"
"I'm coming with," Nova interjected, pulling the strap of her bulging purse up her arm. "This concerns me also." Scarlett didn't object. She said goodbye to Mercedes before following Kelly out.
All three girls settled in Gustavo's snug little office. Fortunately, Gustavo had been banished to another room, along with the members of BTR.
"First, I need to know if you've decided to take this job," Kelly read, holding a clipboard in front of her eyes. Scarlett sat in a seat about a foot across from her. Her aunt was being swallowed by a bean bag next to her. "If you'd like, you can see what working here is like for a week. At the end of the week, you'd have to choose."
Scarlett fiddled with the side of her rectangle-framed glasses. "Will I have the same hours as...your other clients? Because I'd rather work alone."
Kelly bit down on the end of the ball-point pen in her hand. "Well, it would be a lot more convenient, since you'd both be staying at the Palm Woods. The driver wouldn't have to go there twice-"
"Oh, I'm not staying at the Palm Woods," Scarlett said. "I've already been offered a place in Malibu."
Nova tried sitting up, but the bean bag sucked her back in. "Will this be an issue?" she asked. Kelly bit on a french-manicured thumbnail.
"Um, actually, yeah. Unless you can drive to Rocque Records." Scarlett and Nova glanced at each other, than back at Kelly.
Scarlett looked desperate. "I don't drive. But Nova can drive me.
Nova scoffed. "With what car? It's still back in New York."
"But I don't want to stay at the Palm Woods!"
Scarlett fisted a clump of her blond hair, frustrated. Why did her past have to keep getting in the way of her future. Why couldn't she escape it?
Kelly reached over and squeezed Scarlett's knee. "Honey, if you want to work here, you have to put our feeling aside. The Palm Woods is the closest and most convenient option."
After a few moments, Scarlett nodded. "You're right. I'm being unprofessional and I'm sorry. I'd really like to try the week-long trial thing." Kelly smiled, jotting something down on her clipboard.
"That's great. Now I have to read you a list of rules." Kelly paused to look up at the two women in front of her before going on. "Okay, here we go. No drinking-slash-being intoxicated during work hours. Or, in your case, ever." Kelly gave Scarlett a look.
Scarlett felt heat crawling up her neck and looked away. That reputation would never go away. "Um, rule two: No relationships between clients. Gustavo insists that feeling are the enemy of efficiency."
No need to worry about that one, Scarlett thought. After Kelly had read off the whole list, Nova asked some questions.
"Would it be okay if I managed her? Just to make sure all the choices made go through me , being the legal guardian," Nova said.
Kelly nodded. "I'll speak to Griffin about it. Scarlett, is there anything you'd like to add?"
Scarlett twisted a stick-straight strand of blond hair in her fingers. "I'd like to be able to co-write and independently write my own songs. I'd also like to use my own instruments." Kelly quickly added this to the sheet on her clipboard.
"I'll see what Gustavo thinks about it," Kelly promised. "Next week, we'll start figuring out how we're going to repair your image. We'll also discuss what you want your image to be, your sound, et cetera, et cetera. You won't be doing any actual recording for some time."
"Okay," Scarlett replied, rising from her chair. She knew she should feel more excited, but she didn't for some reason. "I'll check into the Palm Woods. Soon. I promise."
"Awesome. I'll send you your schedule on Saturday." Kelly thrust out her arm, offering a handshake. Scarlett felt something catch in her throat. She was briefly reminded of her first recording contract. The one with the record company that claimed that they owned her.
Scarlett met Kelly's gaze. It was reassuring, genuinely nice. So Scarlett took the leap. She grabbed her hand and gave it a firm shake. It was warm and soft. Not legally binding. It was decided. Rocque Records was a friendly place. Hopefully, the Palm Woods Hotel was the same.
Early on Saturday morning, James took a shower, got dressed, and left 2J to wait by the Palm Woods entrance. It was abnormal for him to ever wake up before noon his day off, but today was special. Rocque Record's new client was moving in.
James slid a pair of aviators onto his face and crossed his muscle-riddled arms. A smile spread across his face when he heard a suitcase rolling across the gravel. Scarlett rounded the corner, revealing herself. She was wearing an faded purple hoodie and shredded cutoffs, trying not to draw attention.
She didn't notice James until he let out a low whistle. Scarlett flinched, knocking over one of her suitcases. Her emerald eyes widened as James sauntered over, hoisting one of her bags over his shoulder.
"I heard you before I saw you," James said with a smirk on his face. "I think the wheels on your suitcases may be defective."
"What are you doing here?" Scarlett asked bluntly. James' smile didn't fade.
"I live here."
"Don't play dumb, Diamond." Scarlett put her hands on her hips.
James kept to his act. His innocent, slightly stupid expression helped pull it off. "I just wanted to help out our new coworker." He began walking down the path, so Scarlett trailed behind him with the rest of her stuff. "I heard you got the job." He paused. "So...are you feeling okay?"
Scarlett rolled her eyes. "That was probably the most embarrassing thing that I've ever done." James shrugged his shoulders, as if ralphing at an audition wasn't a big deal.
"You were nervous," James said. "It's understandable."
If only that was it, Scarlett thought. "So where is everyone? Was their an alien abduction or something?" The pool area was completely deserted. Thank God. She couldn't deal with people at such an early hour.
"Not exactly," James answered, chuckling. "Most of us don't get up this early, but if anyone is up, they're just waking up or at an audition for something." He pushed open the lobby doors, holding them open for Scarlett. She gave him an incredulous look from over her glasses.
"Since we're talking and all..." Scarlett began. She turned to James and cracked a half-smile. "You've gotten so tall! And tan. California has been good to you." James smiled back at her. He'd cracked through her shell.
He put his hand on her shoulder. "You're the one who's gotten tall. Freakishly tall, for that matter. What are you, five-ten?" Scarlett shoved him to the side playfully. "Hey, it's a good thing. I mean you were a midget when I last saw you."
"Five-six is not even close to midgetness," Scarlett argued, giggling. "Maybe compared the Jolly Green Giant..."
Before Scarlett knew what was happening, James pulled her glasses off her face. "So what's with these things. Just so you, the nerd glasses fad is over." James held them out of her reach, laughing.
"James, seriously, I'm blind without those," Scarlett complained, grabbing at the air. "I've had them for years, but I had to wear contacts." James reluctantly handed them back, watching her slide the back up the bridge of her nose. "And puh-lease, I started that fad."
"Well, they fit you well. Very sexy librarian." Scarlett rolled her eyes, fighting off the urge to be flattered.
"Let's just get me checked in, you flirt," she instructed, leading him to the front desk. She wrinkled her nose when she realized that the man behind the desk was asleep. James, being used to this, slammed his palm down on the desk bell. Mr. Bitters' head popped up in surprise.
"Bitters, my friend here needs to check in." James propped his arms up on the desk, holding, his chin pressed against his knuckles. Bitters looked from James to Scarlett wearily.
"Don't I know you from somewhere?" he asked. James clamped a hand over his mouth yo hold in his chuckles. Scarlett elbowed him, trying not to smile. "Ugh, never mind. I wouldn't want to know anyone who's friends with a hockey-head. Do you have reservation?"
"Should be under the name Spade." Scarlett tapped her fingers against her thigh impatiently. Bitters searched his the computerized check-in for her name. When he found, he smile insincerely and handed her a keycard.
"Room 3B. Have a Palm Woods day!" He went back to his computer almost immediately, clearly uninterested in the two teens. James showed Scarlett to the elevator, getting in after her and her luggage.
He pressed the third floor button before peering down at Scarlett's long legs. "Whoa, I just noticed the tattoo. Nice!" The tattoo went all the way up the side of her left leg, making it seem miles longer.
Scarlett's pink lips twitched, forming the smallest of grins. "I'll show you my other tattoos later. Unfortunately for you, none of them are in obscene places." James smiled, revealing a two very dazzling rows of teeth.
"Aw, that's too bad," James said, feigning sadness. "What's your room number again?" Scarlett reached into her back pocket and glared at the front of the card.
"Uh, 3B. Why do you ask? Planning some sort of hazing? "
"No, it's just so I know. It sounds really familiar for some reason." There was a loud ding, and the doors parted. Scarlett dragged her suitcases out of the cramped area and into the third floor hall. She glanced around, taking in her new digs.
"Need any help unpacking?" James asked. "You might need a strong, buff guy like me to help fold those tank tops." This got another giggle out of Scarlett, who shook her head no. James pressed the level two button in the elevator. "I'm gonna go tell the guys you're here." Scarlett stopped in her tracks and James cringed. "I mean...if you don't want-"
"No, tell 'em," Scarlett insisted, nodding. "They'd find out eventually, anyways." The elevator doors started to close, so she waved goodbye. James waved back until the doors shut. "Now where are you 3B?" She spotted it at the end of the hall. The number and letter was painted in bronze on the door.
She slid the card down the scanner and the red blinking light turned green. She turned the doorknob, pushing the door open with her shoulder.
Scarlett was surprised to see a messy, cramped little apartment room filled with overflowing cardboard boxes and stacks of magazines. Even more shocking, there was a teenage girl sitting on a sunken couch with her feet up on a low coffee table, glowering at her.
She slowly stood up from her comfy position, clomping up to Scarlett in her signature combat boots. Her expression resembled Scarlett's when she first witnessed Logan for the first time in a year. Completely flabbergasted.
"Oh, hell no."
A/N: Lucy Stone, meet Scarlett Browning.