A/N: (Yes!) Another new story that I actually had been working on in silence without announcing it. I wanted to see how it would turn out first before I started posting it. The summary and title to this story says it all (I hope), and I hope you all enjoy it. Now, to all of my followers that have seen the film. We all know how it ends... BEFORE PANIC SETS IN- let me just say that I will end it better! SwanQueen is endgame, so you have nothing to worry about. :) As always, I will follow as close to the film as I possibly can, but my version of this story will have my own dialogue and changes. More updates are on the way, but first, be sure to drop a review. I'd kindly appreciate it. Happy reading!

*This story will have an alternate ending*

*All musical parts will be skipped*

Morning traffic was the worst. Especially on a hot day like today, in a busy city like Boston. This isn't the city Regina envisioned herself living in, driving her best friend's shitty, pale blue Prius to get to and from places. Sometimes, she had to take a cab. But today, Kathryn was kind enough to let her borrow her car for a big audition that awaited Regina. It could be where she is discovered. Her big break! Eh. Who was she kidding? The script was bad, and the movie sounded horrible, but from small to no part; Regina wasn't about to turn this opportunity down.

There would be fifty other actresses auditioning for this small role in this shitty movie, and Regina wasn't going to miss out on the chance of finally getting noticed.

If only this damn traffic would speed up! Regina rolled her eyes, looking back down at her script. The windows were rolled down as Kathryn's A/C has been busted for nearly a decade without the possibility of ever knowing what a repair looked like or felt like. Her left elbow was propped up along the edge of the door, her hand resting along her temple, rolled up in an aggravated fist. Her hair had been brushed over, hanging loosely a little over her shoulders. She could hear cars honking in the distance, but she had no time to mind that.

"Alright," Regina drew in a calm breath, focusing on her script and muting the honking happening around her until her ears were numb to the aggravating sound. You got this! She mentally cheered herself on. The corners of her lips pulling upward into a grin that flashed before her script. "What do you mean you have to go? Why? Go, where?" She read aloud, trying to sound as dramatically professional as she knew she could be. Her eyes were already producing tears as if she had rehearsed this small part even in her sleep. Because she had. "But, you can't go!" She blinked, fighting back the queued tears.

Emma's fingers softly danced along the top of her steering wheel while she replayed a piano piece she had recorded herself playing at home over and over, until she got that damn note right. Only when it came to playing in front of her family during a family BBQ the other day, for some reason, her fingers had freaked like Emma never did while sitting in front of a piano. She loved the piano. Ever since she was a small kid, ever since her father introduced her to jazz and gifted her her first keyboard for her sixth-birthday. Emma knew what she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

She wanted to play. Play all the jazz melodies people had forgotten about and own her very own jazz club where everyone would be welcomed. She wanted to make a name for herself. But, first she needed the money.

And if this damn traffic could move sometime in the next year, she wouldn't be late for her job at Charlie's Lounge. "Shit!" Emma slammed her palm in frustration along her steering wheel before she pulled on the sleeve of her red leather jacket and checked the time on her watch. Surely Charlie would understand if she was a few minutes late. After all, where else would he find another great pianist willing to play for his customers for such shitty pay.

"Come on," Emma muttered under her breath, her fingers dancing along her steering wheel. Her leg was shaking rapidly up and down with angst. "Thank Christ!" Switching gears, she straightened up in her seat, ready and waiting to drive on. If only the person in front of her would move. "What the sh- come on." Her hand waved in the air. The palm of her hand drummed along her horn a few times, until she left it pressed down hard, muting the other honks that were happening behind her from other people in this world that were growing increasingly frustrating.

The traffic was finally moving, and whoever was still stopped in front of her seemed to believe that in this world, nobody else existed but them. Emma thought about cutting into the lane to her left, but too many cars were already passing her, honking at her in the process as if this small jam was her doing. "Come on! Ugh!" Emma pressed her hand harder along her horn as if that would make it grow louder.

"Because you have to know…" Regina paused. "You have to know that I am in love-" A groan escaped her as some idiot stuck right behind her proceeded to leave their hand pressed along their horn that it distracted her and her tears from playing out the scene in the privacy of the Prius.

Regina adjusted the rear view mirror until it focused on the asshole who was the owner of the- she focused the mirror a little more upward- hideous yellow bug that looked like it had seen better days. The horn's loud whaling stopped, only to be honked surprisingly louder, three repeated times. "Alright!" Just as Regina was about to drive on, she heard a loud screech from the tires of the yellow bug behind her. She could tell through her rear view mirror that whoever was driving it had cut over into the left lane and was driving up beside her.

Once Emma drove up beside the owner of this Prius, she stopped momentarily only to provide the woman behind the wheel with a high definition view of her middle finger.

Regina gasped, her eyes ablaze as her only response in the moment was to flip this blonde woman a bird of her own.

Emma shook her head, an angry crease formed in between her brow as she slammed her foot on the gas and heard her tires screech along the pavement as she sped off.

"Asshole," Regina murmured, slamming on the gas and speeding her way through the open traffic. Good thing was she had plenty of time to get over her anger that this mad woman had caused her before her audition.

Emma's keys jingle as she unlocks and turns the knob to the front door of her apartment, rushing down the small hallway. She needed to change quickly and race off to work or she was so fired. Her heart nearly dropped to the floor as she came to an automatic halt at the sight of Ruby. How the fuck does she always come in without a key? Of course, Emma knew that better than anyone, both growing up in the same foster home and learning to break into any locked door. Emma's lock picking days were left behind her once her and Ruby were both adopted into the family they had always wanted. But, that didn't give her the right to break into Emma's own apartment and eat her cereal. That was just wrong.

"Can you please stop breaking into my apartment?" Emma asks, rushing into the kitchen where Ruby chewed her spoonful down.

"Old habits die hard. Where have you been? Like I need to ask," Ruby chuckles, delivering another spoonful of fruit loops into her mouth.

To Ruby, Emma had become pretty predictable over the years. She woke up early every morning, got dressed, drove over for a hot cup of coffee at Joe's Diner. Shitty coffee, in Ruby's opinion, but Emma seemed to enjoy it. Despite the fact that she always ordered a small cup with a bear claw donut, took small sips of her coffee while her eyes studied the dance club just across the street that used to be their father's favorite jazz club, but ever since a new owner had purchased the location, it had morphed into something entirely not jazz.

"What are you doing sitting on that?" Emma stood with her hands glued to her hips, filling up with annoyance as Ruby sat on an antique, hand carved, circular, made out of all-wood-bench that took Emma three centuries to find on eBay. "Wha- get up, please." Emma's hands held onto the bench, ready to remove it from underneath Ruby. "Please."

"What?" Ruby looked down at the bench, throwing a look of annoyance of her own to Emma. "Are you kidding me?"

"No, I am not kidding you, Ruby- please, don't sit on that. Please. Please. Hoagy Carmichael sat on that. It's authentic!"

"Oh, my God," Ruby rolled her eyes as she stood off the bench, which Emma was quick to place on top of her kitchen counter, but not before checking it for any scratches that Ruby might have left behind simply by sitting on it.

"It's very valuable, Ruby. Come on." Said Emma, marching straight through a few stacked up boxes to get to her living room area. "What are you doing in my home anyway?" She asks.

"Do you honestly think mom and dad would call this a 'home'?" Ruby snorts, stepping into the claustrophobic, too-crowded-for-words-living room. If she could call this a living room. Emma has lived here for two years and she has collected thousands upon thousands of old jazz records; it was beginning to smell like an old record store rather than what an apartment should smell like. "I brought you a rug I found at a garage sale!" Ruby grinned, a rolled up rug perched along her left arm.

"I don't need a rug." Emma shook her head, scrunching up her nose.

"It can't smell worse than this apartment." Ruby allows the rug to unfold and lays it along the middle of the living room where she imagined a coffee table would go. If Emma would own one. But there was a single couch, so she considered that a small win for now.

"Please, don't do that-" Emma groans, biting the inside of her cheek. She wasn't sure what she hated more- Ruby breaking into her apartment or bringing a new household addition with her every single time she did to add it to Emma's apartment.

I mean, sure, you would think that after two years, Emma would make time to finish decorating her apartment. But there was no time for that when all she could think about was that club. Her father's favorite club. The one she's been dreaming about owning since she was a little girl, but hasn't been able to afford. What could be more important than that?

"And when are you going to unpack these boxes, Em?" Ruby looks around the stack of boxes that find themselves around what would be the living room.

"I'll unpack them when I finally own that club." Emma replied, standing before Ruby.

Ruby held a 5x7 photograph of little Emma and their dad playing the piano together, framed inside a black thick frame. "Cute picture," she smiles, holding the photo before Emma. "I don't remember ever seeing it. Did dad give this to you?"

"Yes." Emma removed her leather jacket a sleeve at a time while heading into the direction of what would be her bedroom to change. She was so fucking late.

Ruby took that chance to place the picture frame along a single side table Emma kept beside her couch. She moved along to one of the many boxes, helping herself to look through a pile of old records. "So, how is the old place looking nowadays?" She asks.

Shortly after, Emma is marching out of her bedroom, dressed in a pair of black pressed pants, a pair of converse- simply because Emma wouldn't be caught dead wearing heels- and they were her favorite shoes to wear. And tucking in her white crisp shirt to the waistline of her pants, buttoning up every single button but the last two that exposed her long neck. Her hair was picked up in a neat ponytail without a strand of hair out of place.

"Can you believe they turned it into a fucking Samba-Tapas type of… Place-thing." Emma's eyes as well as the furrow along her brow burned with fury.

"You are obsessing way too much over this place, Em-" Ruby's words are covered by Emma's own interjection.

"A Samba-Tapas, Ruby." Emma echoes. "It's like, pick one, you know? Get it right."

"You know something? I have someone you should meet." Ruby smirks.

"What?"

"Yeah."

"No." Emma shakes her head, moving along the living room.

"Yes- Emma-!" Ruby follows.

"I don't want to meet anyone, Ruby." Said Emma, picking up the neglected bowl of cereal from her breakfast table.

"I promise you, she's very cute. I think you're going to like her." Ruby replied, snatching back the bowl of cereal from Emma's hand. "Come on, Em. Look at yourself! Look around you!" Ruby swings her hands along the apartment. "You are completely lost in a dream that is never going to happen-"

"You don't know that-" Emma places a single hand along her waist.

"You are living like a freaking hermit, okay? This place is a disaster area waiting to tumble over! You are driving around in a lemon without insurance that you got a shitty deal on and were ripped off." Ruby's hand smacks along her thigh as it comes down from motioning around the apartment again.

"I like my life." Emma replies matter-of-factly.

"Just meet her. Just once." Ruby holds up a single digit. "I think if you talk to her, you will find that you have a lot in common with her."

"What could we possibly have to talk about? What? Does she like jazz?" Emma asks.

"No." Ruby shakes her head.

"Then, what the hell would we have to talk about?"

"I don't know! Stuff! It doesn't matter, Em!." Said Ruby, walking over to the breakfast table, reaching for a pen and an envelope out of Emma's mail pile.

"It doesn't matter?" Emma follows close behind.

"No, it doesn't matter. Look," Ruby rubs away at her temple. "I know that you had some sort of plan in your life. I know that you spent an obscene, ridiculous amount of money on an old piano and all this crap, in hopes of a better future, okay? But it didn't happen. I mean- look at where it's left you?" Ruby holds up the envelope. "And what you get paid at that Lounge, it's not even enough to cover your bills."

Emma rips the envelope away from Ruby's hand. "I have a strategy, okay? I know I got screwed over, okay? But it's my life. I am letting it punch me until it can no longer punch back and then I will strike. I'm- I'm like a phoenix rising through the ashes."

Ruby snatches back the envelope from Emma's hand and finishes scribbling down her friend's name and phone number on the back of the envelope, who she realized was Emma's water bill before holding it against Emma's chest. "Her name is Diane. Call her."

Emma places her entire palm along the envelope, holding onto it for dear life once Ruby releases it; even if she had no intention of calling this Diane.

"Now, go. Be romantic. Give those people hell with your skilled pianist hands." Said Ruby.

"Why do you say 'romantic' like it's a bad thing?" Asks Emma.

Ruby snorts, "Because romance is dead."

"That's not true." Emma shakes her head.

"It is. It died along with chivalry." Ruby nods.

"Well, I choose not to believe that."

Ruby cups a hand along Emma's chin, gripping her fingers tightly along her jaw and presses her ruby red lips along her cheek. "Mwah! I love you." Her thumb wipes away the smudge of lipstick along her cheek before she is walking toward the front door. "Call her."

Emma walks to her front door, "Hey, Ruby," she waits for Ruby to come back, poking her head in, through the door. "You know, I have a guy you could meet, covered in tattoos, heart of gold."

Ruby's blue eyes glare hard. "That's a low blow."

Emma grins proudly.

"Pay your bills." Said Ruby before shutting the door in place.

Emma sighs, staring down at the envelope in her hand, or more like the name and number scribbled along it. Reaching for her cellphone out of her back pocket, she began dialing the number. She managed to get halfway through until she stopped, shutting off her screen. "No." After tucking her phone back into her back pocket, Emma glanced down at her watch to check the time. "Shit." She muttered, rushing over to where she had left her leather jacket and racing out of the door.

'Thank you. We'll call you.' If Regina could have a nickel for every time she heard that phrase throughout every audition she was ever called for. She would be filthy rich with more money than she would know what to do with by now. Another struck out audition to add to her endless list. She didn't get it. What was she doing wrong? She was a good actress, damn it! That's all Regina aspired to be. She belonged in the spotlight. It terribly saddened her how her father's name didn't even seem to mean anything in the film business anymore.

Although, Regina never aspired to get jobs simply because her father was a famous writer once and did some Broadway back in his day. But the man was brilliant in his time and he would always cheer Regina on when she would share her dreams with him of her being the biggest movie star in Hollywood. 'You can do anything you set your mind to, Regina! You want to be a star? You will be one. And I believe you will shine brighter than all of the stars in the sky!'

Regina lived by that. She believed it with all of her heart. And she would get there. Even if she had to keep serving coffee and getting threatened daily to have some spilled on her- she would get there!

Regina's keys jingle as she enters her apartment, sighing dreadfully to herself, not paying any mind to her two roommates.

"Hey, you're back!" Kathryn grins happily, too happy for Regina to deal with right now. "How did the audition go?"

"What audition?" Regina grumbles, marching right into her bedroom and slamming the door shut. Her body flopping face first, like a stiff plank along her bed.

Kathryn and Belle share a mutual look in silence.

"Looks like a job for the tub." Kathryn said.

"I'll get the ice cream." Belle tosses her book along their coffee table and marches straight for the freezer along their kitchen pulling out a big tub of ice cream, while Kathryn pulls out one of the drawers, reaching for three spoons.

Kathryn brings her fist along the door to Regina's bedroom as both roommates stand outside. She knocks, "Regina… We're coming in." Twisting the knob, both enter, taking their usual spots along the end of the bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Belle asks, pulling off the lid of the tub of ice cream, reaching for the spoon Kathryn hands to her.

"No." Regina's response comes out muffled as she continues to lay along her bed.

"Well, how about some ice cream? It'll make you feel better." Said Kathryn, holding out another spoon which Regina takes once she sits up right with a heavy sigh to her. Soon, all three roommates dig into the tub of rocky road ice cream.

"I just don't understand it," Regina breathes. Her shoulders deflate as she scoops up more ice cream with her spoon. "I mean, what is wrong with me? Why don't people like me? I mean, is my acting that bad?" Her brown eyes look to Belle and Kathryn, back and forth like a ping-pong ball.

"Of course not, sweetie!" Kathryn places her free hand along Regina's shoulder. "Hey, you are a much better actress than any of those other clones in that room just waiting to audition. I promise you that."

"Except one of those clones gets the part." Regina pops her spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

"So what?" Belle chirps in. "You said so yourself, you hated the part they were giving you."

"Well, yeah," Regina sighs. "But at least I would have gotten a start, had my foot in the door."

"Doors close and open all the time, Regina," Kathryn waves a hand dismissively. "I promise you, a greater one will open for you someday and you will blow them all away. They will practically beg you to star in their series and/or film." She scoops up some ice cream which goes into her mouth after.

Regina gives off a sad smile, "Do you really think so?"

Belle grins, "Regina, before you know it, you are going to be so big and famous, you will forget all about Kathryn and I."

Regina shakes her head, "I am never going to forget about you two. You're my best friends." She wraps an arm around each of them and pulls them each into a tight, group hug. "Besides, who else will be my dates to premiers and award shows?"

"Mm!" Kathryn pops the spoon out of her mouth in excitement, her eyes light up. "I have the perfect dress already for such occasions!" She grins proudly.

Regina chuckles. What would she do without her friends, who were practically the only family she had left? Regina could and never wanted to imagine a life without them.

"Hey, you know what will help you cheer up?" Belle perks up, holding up her spoon in the process. "Some music, drinks and some serious dancing!"

Kathryn gasps quite dramatically, "Yes! I'm in!" She raises her hand holding the spoon.

"No." Regina, on the other hand, doesn't feel like going out tonight. Until that door of hers opens, she rather swim in her self-pity. At least for tonight.

"Yes!" Kathryn and Belle reply in unison.

"Oh, come on, Regina!" Belle stands from the bed along with Kathryn as they both drag Regina up, forcing her to stand to her feet.

"No, really, I don't feel like going dancing tonight. You two go. Have fun on my account." Regina takes her hands back, reaching for the tub of ice cream.

"Oh, no!" Kathryn reaches for the tub, snatching it away from Regina while she hands it back to Belle. "We will have none of that. You are coming with us. Come on, we'll dress in really sexy dresses, get all dolled up, we'll smell so good, guys will be lining up to dance with us-! Uh- girls for you." She quickly chimes.

"Yes! Come on," Belle tugs harder, forcing Regina's legs to move her across the room. "Let's see what sexy dress you have inside this closet that is sure to turn some heads."

Regina did enjoy a few- three- apple martini's that night. She danced but not with anyone she liked or that liked her. She settled for Belle and Kathryn as dancing partners until Belle managed to find herself a good looking guy to dance with, then it was just Kathryn and Regina as dance partners. She could always count on her friends. And Regina loved them dearly. How could she ever forget about them, even when she became the most famous person alive?

It was safe to say that Belle was the only one who left with someone that night. Kathryn drove on home, while Regina… It was a nice night out for a peaceful walk. A walk was exactly what Regina needed in order for her to clear her head, her jumbled thoughts centered on future fame, and a chance to wear off this buzz she had placed herself under after those three apple martini's.

The night was peaceful. There was a small chill in the air but not to the point where she was in desperate need of a jacket to shelter her from it.

A soft piano melody played in the distance. A melody that mysteriously called out to Regina and pulled her- like an imaginary force that she couldn't see but feel- directly inside Charlie's Lounge. Grabbing onto the cold steel handle of the dreadfully heavy wooden door, Regina tugged it with all her might, following the sound of the unknown melody. Her eyes slowly exploring along the dim-light room.

That's when she spotted her. The most beautiful blonde woman she had ever seen in her life, who was clearly dressed to impress. Regina couldn't help but think that the woman looked vaguely familiar, but that was a quick thought in passing that did exactly that as it vanished. All that mattered right now was the beautiful melody that said woman's hands were creating with such carefree elegance and professionalism. It made Regina almost a little jealous of just how carefree and professional- how so sure of herself- this woman appeared to be as she sat in front of that grand black, shiny piano.

She didn't recognize this melody to be a part of any song Regina has ever heard, but it was indeed beautiful. Did she write it? Suddenly, the lounge which had appeared to be filled with people silently eating their meals and enjoying their beverages no longer existed. It was as if they had been swallowed by a dark, shadowy background while an entire spotlight was centered on this beautiful blonde as her playing went from a slow melody to a more sped-up jazzy/bluesy type of melody. Her hair which had been slicked back into a neat ponytail had revealed a few strands of blonde hair that shined underneath the spotlight. Her back was hunched over as her heart and soul traveled through her veins as thick as her blood, reaching the very end of her fingertips that danced with grace and speed along the keys of the piano.

Emma played her heart out without a care in the world. Charlie had warned her that he didn't want her playing any jazz on the piano before she sat down. 'You play the set list! I don't want to hear any Jazz. No free-playing of any kind!' He had told her. But Jazz was all Emma was born to play. It's what she loved, and it broke her heart that people had seemed to forget all about what was good Jazz. She wanted people to hear it again.

Playing jazz, allowing herself to get lost in her music felt as if she was the only person in this room. It was a passion.

As her fingers danced along the keys in fast speed, her legs rose up, her back hunched over, body over the piano before her piece ended. And then- the spotlight she had envisioned herself under faded- and she was in a silent room which wasn't bursting with applause at all. People weren't smiling, and their eyes weren't shining with joy at such a wonderful melody. They were gawking, judging her, wide eyes looked at her as if she had become possessed and had grown two heads. And as Emma's eyes searched for a single smile along that room, her eyes fell on a beautiful brunette, dressed in a blue dress that ended just a little above her knees. Neckline exposed just the beginning of a little cleavage. Her lipstick is just the right amount of red. Eyes were wide and the most beautiful color of brown Emma had ever seen.

"Emma." Charlie's voice made Emma's head whip around to him. His eyes glaring, burning into her own even from afar. He hooked his finger at her in a come here motion.

Emma had no choice but to move along to where Charlie was standing, simply to hear, "You're fired." She couldn't speak. "Do you understand what I'm telling you?" Charlie asks.

Emma blinks, her brow furrowed, "I do," she nods. "But I don't really think that's what you mean."

"No, it is. Understand what I'm telling you. You're fired." Charlie replied.

Emma's brow furrow turns deeper, "See, I hear what you're saying, but I don't think that's what you mean. What you mean is… 'Play the set-list.'"

"No, that's not what I mean." Charlie shakes his head. "I told you no jazz. Stick to what I told you to play- you didn't, so- goodbye."

Emma shakes her head, "Don't fire me, Charlie." She keeps her voice down.

"I'm sorry, Emma. You're done."

Emma draws in a slow but sharp breath, allowing it to escape through her nostrils slowly. "Let me finish at least the last hour I have left. Please."

"Don't let the door hit you on your way out." Charlie motions toward the door before he walks away.

Emma's heart was beating fast, her pulse was rising. She had half a mind to cuss Charlie out and create havoc in his fancy shmancy lounge, but that would only land her in jail and Emma didn't have enough to pay for bail if that happened. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed her anger, her green eyes looked over to the same beautiful brunette who did nothing but gawk at her since she walked through those doors, like a deer gawked at an incoming pair of headlights. Well, if she didn't want to get run over, she needed to get out of her way.

Emma reached for the two dollars inside of the tip jar, stuffing them inside of her pocket in anger before marching toward the exit. Those two dollars had come from her own wallet, so she had every right to them.

Regina hurried through the free pathway between tables, seeing the blonde nearing closer and closer. She looked angry, but Regina could guarantee that if she let her know that unlike every zombie sitting in this room- she was listening- that would bring back some of the joy Regina witnessed sparkling through her while she played just a few minutes ago.

"I just wanted to say that I heard you playing, and-" Regina's words are caught in her throat as she the blonde simply brushes past her, bumping into her shoulder with such force it takes Regina aback. Her head whips around, following the trail of fire the blonde leaves with her hurried steps along the floor as she exits the door of the lounge. Regina scoffs, and whatever buzzed, tranquil mood she had found herself in was suddenly replaced by the same annoyance that had been radiating off of that woman that was clearly too angry to even take a fucking compliment. What an asshole!