Chapter Three

A Little Trouble In Big Westopolis

A large, travel sized van was stuck in traffic. The vehicle was painted in ludicrous greens and black cameo prints, stopping sharp at a printed stick on of the four celebrities that it was carting around. A chicken, pill-like in shape with large sunglasses and a spiked comb. A smirking red rabbit with his arms crossed and drumsticks hanging loosely from his fingers, back to back with a smug looking monkey that held a guitar. And in the stark middle of all three of them, a burst of purple and yellow against the green and black of the van, was their main singer—Mina Mongoose, the songstress who had taken the world by storm with the Forget me Knots band.

The Mina on the outside of the van was certainly more cheerful than the one inside it, at the very least.

She lay limp against the red cushions inside, staring bored at the ceiling as her guitarist plucked out the tune to one of their songs. His instrument certainly wasn't in tune, that was for sure—it has been giving him trouble the entire ride to Westopolis. Mina was pretty sure that either his tuner was broken, or his instrument was in need of repair. Frankly she was hoping it was the former. Max was very picky about his instruments and they didn't need to be stranding themselves for a whole week while the monkey tried to find the 'ideal guitar' again.

At her side sat the drummer rabbit—completely asleep and nearly falling onto her chest. With a slight shrug, Mina shifted him from the cliff edge of falling to the back of her shoulder and sighed. The heat seemed to be getting to all of them except Sharps. While sweat did seem to be speckling the chicken's white feathers, he still seemed as awake and alert as ever. It was the Sharps way to be as sharp as he could, even if that meant sacrificing comfort. He knew his 'coolness' meant a lot to his fans and he wasn't about to sacrifice it.

It was really easy to be tempted in a van without air conditioning on a hot as hell day while stuck in traffic, though…

Mina groaned and let her head fall back again. She loved being a singer, she really did. It let her get out what she needed to get out. But she'd be damned if the last few weeks hadn't worn her out. Every night had been a show, and sometimes each show was in a completely different city. They'd spend hours in traffic, perform, sleep for maybe five hours, and hit the road again. Rinse and repeat. She knew it was needed but boy it was easy to get tired doing it.

Her eyes were sliding closed quickly, painted purple lids falling listlessly over green eyes. She was so tempted to just catch up on some sleep right now. In the back of her mind, she remembered that if she fell asleep then she'd wake up a mess right before the concert and the makeup and styling team would be all over here for an hour, pulling at her face and hair while actively scolding her. But it was a thought that was quickly being buried by the monotony and the heat of the van. Mina couldn't help it—she hadn't gotten a good day's sleep in weeks.

Just as she was about to phase out from the waking world, the van jerked sharply and began to speed forward. All four of the band members groaned in annoyance; Mach bounced off Mina's shoulder in shock, looking around wildly and muttering to himself in confusion. The other two rolled their eyes in exasperation and settled back into their seats, Max's fingers returning to his instrument to practice. Mina sighed and limply rose to her feet to bang her fist against the tinted window in the front of the van. A crackling intercom sprung to life above them.

"How can I help you, ma'am?"

The driver. Of course the driver, she groaned internally. "Can I talk to Ash real quick?"

"Certainly. Just let me wake him up."

The intercom fell out to a buzzing sound, but after a few seconds Mina could clearly hear her manager and ex-boyfriend swearing in irritation at the driver. She couldn't blame him. None of them really wanted to be jolted awake right now. With this heat she wasn't surprised that he had passed out as soon as possible—Mina couldn't say she wouldn't do exactly the same. The intercom crackling again brought her attention away from her own thoughts.

"What's going on, Mina? Is there a problem back there?"

"I'd say there is. We can't skimp on funds anymore! WHY are we skimping on funds anymore?" Mina leaned against the intercom side of the van, sliding down with her arms crossed over her knees. "We need to either get a new van, or get a van with air conditioning and heating. Especially if we're spending so much time inside it! We have the money!"

"That's a good thought, Mina, and it would be real nice if it wouldn't cut into our gas budget and into our budget to replace the instruments that Max keeps breaking. AND wasting WEEKS of our time getting new ones so we can miss a show and have to refund MILLIONS in tickets." Ash replied dryly; Mina burrowed her head in her arms as Max's plucking abruptly cut off. A sheepish smile stretched across his face as he dropped his guitar to the side. "Stop putting in this request. Its just not top priority right now, Mina. I'm sorry. Really, I am."

"I know, I know." She groaned, banging the back of her head against the wall in irritation—her purple hair was sticking to her yellow fur and tangling together. "…Once we make the money back for the concerts…"

"…I'll think about it. Now let it go for now, okay?"

Mina sighed and ran a hand through her sweaty hair as the intercom clicked off. Ash had never been an easy person, not really. It was his defensiveness and controlling attitude that had led to their relationship ending. Such personality traits DID truly make him an effective and precise manager, but in interpersonal relationships, Ash did poorly. He tried his best to be nice, especially to his ex-girlfriend's friends, but eventually his defensiveness had caused a gap between the two.

She was fine with it. It had taken her so many romances to realize it, but she had been too reliant on her loves. Mina had found motivation not in herself but in what might impress and please the men that she loved. Of course, she still looked to make the people around her happy, but by now the singer had realized that she had her own strength and she had to use it. The strengths of others were great but they would never be as motiving as her own personal strengths.

She was just glad Ash could understand and that he could still be her manager and friend. Even if he wasn't too good at being all that friendly.

She smiled wistfully into her hand, resting her cheek in her palm and closing her eyes in contemplative thought. Maybe it wasn't too bad, this crazy life they led…it may have them practically having a stroke in a van. Sometimes she admitted she missed supporting the Freedom Fighters and that cause to work for but Mina lived a happy life, now. She was happy with herself. She believed in her own strength.

…She was sure of that.

...For the most part.

Before she could let her thoughts take a more ugly direction, the entire van shook violently; Mina heard tires screeching loudly. Max hugged his guitar protectively as they all flew to slam against the back doors. Their cased up instruments flew everywhere around the back of the van. Mina cringed when she saw the bass fall out of its case to smash against the metal floor with a sickening crack—she could tell from the sound that it was going to need a replacement. But before she could even react, the van vaulted them forward as the brakes pulled them to a complete stop. Mina's face smashed unceremoniously against the intercom before she slid to the floor with a pained groan.

Slowly she hauled herself to her knees to press the intercom button. "Ash," she coughed, licking a bit of blood off her muzzle. "What the heck was THAT?"

No answer for a moment, then the other side crackled to life.

"You all okay back there?"

"Yeah, we're fine. What HAPPENED, Ash?" She pressed.

"We almost hit a kid. She just…ran out in front of the van, it isn't even a crosswalk! She just ran right in front of us!"

"WHAT?!" Mina cried, jumping up and rushing to the back doors of the van to throw them open and hop out onto the pavement. The fresh air was honestly refreshing against her sweat-laced fur, but she ignored it as she rushed to the front of the now still van. Her bandmates hurried after her.

In front of the hissing grill of the van sat a small white fox child, sunken to her knees with her face buried in her hands. Choked sobs came out of her periodically as she slumped further and further down to the ground. Between her legs sat a red rubber ball, now deflated. Mina crouched down carefully by the little girl, hair falling around them as if a shield from the world. She slid one hand around the little girl's shoulder to attract her attention and gave her a comforting smile when her green eyes met icy blue ones.

"Are you alright, miss?" She said softly. The girl nodded slowly, unable to say anything through her hiccups. Her shoulders were still shaking; hell, her entire body seemed to be laced with shivers. "It's okay. You don't have to cry. I bet you were just trying to get your ball, weren't you?"

The little fox nodded uncertainly.

"That's okay! We can get you a new one." Behind her, Mina heard Ash groan as he got out of the front of the van. She ignored it. "It'll be brand new, and nice and bouncy. Our way of saying sorry for almost hitting you."

"C-can I get you on it?" The girl sniffled. Mina cocked her head to the side and laughed. The child must've been a fan.

"Do you mean my signature?" She asked.

"Nah. We just mean YOU."

Mina froze as she felt a cold barrel up against the side of her sweating brow; in the back of her mind, she realized that the child in her arms had stopped shivering. In fact, all the fear and tears in the fox girl's eyes had disappeared. She now just looked up to Mina with a small smile on her face. One of her gloved hands was drawn in front of her muzzle, her pointer finger extended upwards in a silencing gesture.

Slowly Mina rose to her feet, the barrel of the gun against her head never leaving her head. Looking to the side, she saw that her bandmates were already wrapped up and captured—all of them had been trapped in the sturdy grip of a yellow polar bear. She could hear Ash yelling indigently as he was shoved back into the van; a familiar shrill cackling rang out as the door slammed shut. She knew that laugh, unfortunately, though she had yet to deal with either of HIS meat shields personally.

She turned her head to face the weasel with the gun pointed to the temple of her head. Her light green eyes steeled up into a stare; it didn't seem to threaten the mercenary. If anything, it seemed to amuse him. The cigar latched between his teeth pour smoke out, blowing into her green eyes and crushing her tough exterior—Mina winced and coughed roughly at the bitter smell. The weasel hitman simply laughed. What an ugly sound.

She had run in with this man before. He had tried to kill her. Well, more politely put, he had been HIRED to kill her. So many years before, Nack the Weasel had tried to lodge a bullet in her skull at the request of none other than the man responsible for killing her parents—Dr. Eggman. Not that the weasel probably knew that. Mina wouldn't give him credit for knowing much of anything. After all, his ill borne attempt to cap her hadn't even been successful. He had missed and subsequently gotten himself caught, threatened, and interrogated.

Though it looked like it hadn't mattered in the long run anyways. Here he was, free and roaming, and once again point a gun at her head.

"Been a while, hasn't it, Songoose?" He chuckled. "What'cha been up? Oh, don't tell me. Singing sickly sweet love songs?"

"Oh yes. I just wrote a lovely serenade about the love between my fist and your face." Mina spat through grit teeth. Nack just laughed. He saw through her thinly veiled barbs—the popstar was scared. She had a gun at her head, who wouldn't be? She was just still able to be angry as hell because she had fallen into his trap. "What do you want from me, you sleazy freak?!"

"Ooh, sleazy freak! That's a good one. Points for originality, I usually just get something like bastard or prick." Nack chuckled. He motioned at Bark; the bear stuffed the other band members through the window of the van to squeeze in with Ash. The black haired mongoose squeaked, his hand torn away from his cellphone as it was smashed against the window. Probably calling the cops. Nack paused for a minute to look at the gathering crowd—whether the manager had called them or not, they needed to get out of the area.

"Hey, Miss Mina, don't feel bad!" Mina nearly jumped as small arms wrapped around her middle, the same icy blue eyes that had been filled with tears now looking at her with gleaming admiration. "I've always wanted to meet you! My name is Stella. We're gonna get to hang out with each other for a little while. I think its gonna be really, really fun!"

"Hang out with each other for a little while…?" Mina said uneasily. It was already unsettling that Nack seemed to have a little girl on his team, but her words made her flat out nervous. "What do you mean by that, honey….?"

"Nope, I'm not Honey, I'm Stella!" The girl chirped mindlessly, ignoring Mina's question as Nack whistled loudly. The popstar was nearly knock to her feet as a massive motorbike—the Marvelous Queen, she recognized it, that was Nack's stupid bike—stopped nearly short of her stomach. One feathered arm bolted out to drag her into the cockpit and she was met with the grinning face of Bean the Dynamite. Shivers ran down her spine.

"DAMMIT BEAN, SHE'S NO GOOD DEAD!" Mina heard Nack holler as he climbed in beside them to throw the duck to the sidecar. Bean snickered and scaled up Bark's back, Stella situating herself in the second sidecar. Mina barely had enough time to give the artic fox a wide eyed, incredulous look of shock before she was thrown backwards by the momentum of the bike starting and rushing forward.

The last thing she saw was the sight of her band and manager toppling out of the van screaming and chasing after then. Then, she faded into blackness when Nack slammed the butt of his gun down on the back of her head.