Another chapter of fun before the intense comes back... I've have the last four chapters resting on the back burners for you all while I type up Chapter Thirty-Seven. And to answer your questions, no, I don't sleep. please send help in the form of sleepy time tea and ASMR rain videos haha -Mercy

Chapter Thirty-Six

The Spotlight Beckons

The night winds down slowly, the cozy atmosphere in Rachel and Jasmine's home wrapping around all of us like a warm blanket. Meadow has drifted off in Rachel's arms, and even Alex looks more relaxed than usual as she sips on a mug of tea. Jade and I exchange a glance, both of us knowing it's time to head home but reluctant to leave the warmth of family.

Missy yawns, stretching her arms over her head. "Alright, you two. Drive safe, okay? And don't forget to text when you get home."

Jade rolls her eyes but nods. "Yes, Mom."

Rachel chuckles softly as she stands to give us hugs. "She's not wrong. Let us know you made it back, and give Jack some love for me."

"Will do," I promise, pulling my coat on as Jade grabs the car keys.

The drive home is quiet, the streets bathed in soft, amber light from the streetlamps. Jade has one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the console between us. I slide my fingers over hers, giving her a small squeeze. She glances over at me, a gentle smile curving her lips.

"Still buzzing from earlier?" she asks, her voice low and teasing.

"A little," I admit, laughing softly. "But I'm more tired than anything. It's been a long day."

Jade hums in agreement, turning into our driveway. "Let's get you to bed, superstar."

When we step through the door, Jack is already padding down the hallway to greet us, his tail wagging lazily. He lets out a soft huff and follows us upstairs, clearly ready to settle in for the night. Once in our room, he circles his bed twice before plopping down with a satisfied sigh.

Jade chuckles as she watches him. "He's got it all figured out, doesn't he?"

"Definitely," I agree, kicking off my shoes.

We move through our nighttime routine easily, slipping into our usual rhythm. I change into my comfiest pajamas—soft plaid pants and an oversized shirt—and Jade opts for tank top and shorts. She tosses her hair into a loose ponytail before climbing into bed, stretching out.

As we settle into bed, I shift closer to Jade, resting my head on her shoulder. The room is calm and quiet, with only the soft sound of Jack's snoring from his bed.

"Thanks for helping me keep it together today," I murmur, tracing patterns on Jade's arm with my fingers. "I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been there to calm me down earlier."

Jade chuckles softly, her voice low and warm. "You'd have figured it out. You always do." She pauses for a moment, then adds, "But I didn't mind being there. You've done the same for me plenty of times."

I smile, nudging her gently. "Still, I appreciate it. You knew exactly what I needed, even when I didn't."

Jade tilts her head down, brushing a kiss against my forehead. "I just remembered what you said yesterday—about breathing. That's all I did, Tori. I reminded you to breathe. You already had it in you to calm down. I just… gave you a little push."

Her words make my chest ache in the best way, and I wrap my arms around her, hugging her tightly. "You make it sound so simple, but it means everything to me."

Jade lets out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling in her chest. "You're so sappy, Vega."

"Only with you." I roll my eyes, laughing quietly. "Beside, you can be sappy too."

"First of all, that is totally not true," Jade replies, grinning. "And second, shut up."

I giggle as she tries to push me away and make her stay close to me. "Alright, alright." I lean over to kiss her cheek before settle back under the blanket.

We fall into an easy silence, the weight of the day slowly melting away. Jade's hand finds mine under the blanket, and she squeezes it gently.

"Today was a good day," she says softly.

"It really was," I agree, my voice barely above a whisper.

(Later that week)

Jade and I drive in relative silence, the hum of the car and the occasional turn of the GPS the only sounds filling the space. My hands grip the steering wheel tightly, and Jade notices. She places a reassuring hand on my thigh, her touch grounding me.

"Relax, Vega," she says, her tone light but steady. "Mason's just a guy. If he gives you any trouble, I'll handle him."

I laugh softly, her confidence breaking through the tension in my chest. "I don't think it'll come to that, but thanks for the offer."

"Anytime," she replies with a smirk.

Rachel is meeting us at the office downtown where Mason arranged to have the meeting. Having her there is a relief, not just because she's a lawyer, but because she knows me well enough to catch anything I might miss. And let's face it—when it comes to business deals, I wouldn't know a loophole if it smacked me in the face.

As we pull into the parking garage, I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. Jade's hand is still on my leg, her thumb moving in slow, calming circles.

"You've got this," she says as I park the car.

"You really think so?" I ask, turning to look at her.

She meets my gaze, her expression serious but kind. "Tori, I know so. You're insanely talented. Mason sees it, too, or we wouldn't even be here. Now, let's go in there and show him why you're the best thing to happen to music since auto-tune."

I laugh, her humor easing my nerves a little. "Thanks, Jade. I needed that."

We step out of the car and make our way to the elevators. Rachel is already waiting for us in the lobby, dressed sharply as always. Her presence is both comforting and commanding, and I feel a little more confident with her by my side.

"There's my superstar," Rachel greets me with a warm smile as we approach.

"Hi, Rachel," I reply, smiling back. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course," she says, adjusting the folder in her hand. "You're family, Tori. And this is a big deal. How did your family take the news?"

"Oh, they wanted to throw me a huge party, but I told them I just wanted to have a chill night. Didn't stop Shelby from getting me a congratulatory gift." I chuckle and picture her beaming face when she gave me a cheesy shirt that says famous popstar on it. Still, it was really nice of her.

Jade exchanges a quick hug with Rachel before the three of us head up to Mason's office. My heart pounds in my chest as the elevator climbs, but I remind myself that I'm not alone.

We step out onto the designated floor and are greeted by a receptionist. Mason is also already there, a confident smile on his face.

"Tori Vega," Mason says warmly, his eyes sparkling with recognition. "The star who pulled off the Platinum Music Awards switcheroo. And Jade West," he adds, his grin widening as he nods at her. "The co-conspirator."

Jade smirks, crossing her arms as she leans casually against the table. "What can I say? Sometimes you've got to play the game."

Mason laughs, shaking his head. "It was clever. I'll give you that. At the time, I wasn't thrilled, but looking back, I have to respect it. And in hindsight, it worked out. That performance was one of the most talked-about moments of the show."

"I'm glad," I reply, smiling nervously. "It's nice to see you again, Mr. Thornesmith."

"Mason, please," he insists, gesturing for us to follow him. "And you must be Rachel West," he says, turning his attention to Rachel. "Tori mentioned you'd be joining us."

Rachel shakes his hand firmly. "That's right. I'm here to ensure everything is above board."

Mason nods appreciatively. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Let's get started."

Mason's office is just as impressive as I remember—sleek, modern, and humming with quiet energy. Sunlight streams through the glass walls, casting long shadows across the pristine furniture. Jade, Rachel, and I settle into the comfortable chairs facing Mason's desk, where he sits with an easy confidence, his ever-present hat slightly tilted.

"First of all," Mason begins, his tone warm, "thank you all for coming in. Tori, after our conversation the other day, I took some time to ask Mrs. Dubois about your talents. I have to say, your performances at school? They're impressive. You're clearly not just a one-hit wonder."

I blink in surprise, and Jade smirks beside me. "Told you," she mutters, just loud enough for me to hear.

Mason continues, "What really struck me was the versatility. You can go from emotional ballads to high-energy dance numbers without missing a beat. That's not something everyone can do."

"Uh, thanks," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up. It's not every day that someone like Mason Thornesmith compliments me.

Rachel, sitting to my left, gives me a reassuring nod. "It's good to hear that, Mason. Tori's worked hard to get to where she is."

"And it shows," Mason says sincerely. He pushes a sleek folder across the desk toward Rachel. "This contract outlines the terms for the project we discussed. Tori, this would put you front and center in a new music series showcasing fresh talent. Think of it as a mix of live performances and behind-the-scenes storytelling, with you as the face of it all."

Rachel opens the folder and begins reading, her lawyer instincts kicking in. Meanwhile, Jade leans back in her chair, clearly at ease but still alert, and I hold her hand, using her touch to keep me calm. Rachel flips through the pages of the contract, occasionally making small notes with a pen she brought. After a while, she sets the folder down and looks at Mason.

"This is a well-written contract," Rachel begins, her voice professional. "There are a few clauses I'd recommend adjusting, but nothing major. Overall, it's solid."

Mason nods. "I'm open to suggestions. My goal is to make this a win-win for everyone."

Rachel outlines her recommended changes—minor adjustments to payment schedules, clarification on creative control, and a slightly shorter initial term. Mason listens attentively, nodding along as she speaks.

"That all sounds reasonable," he says when she finishes. "I'll have my legal team make the revisions and send them over by tomorrow."

I glance at Jade, who gives me a small, encouraging smile. Her hand finds mine under the table, and she squeezes it gently.

"Tori," Mason says, his tone earnest, "I really believe in this project, and I believe in you. If you're ready to move forward, we'll get started as soon as the paperwork is finalized."

I take a deep breath, feeling both exhilarated and overwhelmed. "Thank you, Mason. I appreciate the opportunity." We shake hands and agree to talk again very soon. As we leave Mason's office, the sun is starting to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. Jade walks beside me, her hand brushing against mine.

"You okay?" she asks, her voice soft.

"Yeah," I reply, glancing at her with a smile. "Thanks for being here. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Jade smirks. "Probably panic in a janitor's closet."

I laugh, nudging her playfully. "You're not wrong."

Rachel holds the contract folder under one arm and glances between Jade and me with a thoughtful smile.

"You know," Rachel starts, her tone light but suggestive, "we should go out for dinner. Just the three of us. A little celebration for getting through the meeting."

I pause, caught off guard. "A celebration? Isn't it a little early for that? I mean, I haven't even signed the contract yet."

Rachel waves her hand dismissively, her expression firm but kind. "Tori, you've already taken a huge step forward just by having this meeting and hearing Mason out. You should give yourself credit for that. Even the little victories are worth celebrating."

Before I can respond, Jade cuts in with a smirk. "Translation: Rachel's hungry and looking for an excuse to eat."

Rachel raises an eyebrow at her stepdaughter, though the hint of amusement in her expression softens the mock sternness. "I am not just looking for an excuse. But now that you mention it, I haven't had anything substantial since lunch."

Jade snorts. "Called it."

I laugh, shaking my head. "You two are too much."

Rachel grins at me, unbothered. "So, dinner? My treat."

Jade shrugs casually but gives me a quick nudge. "Come on, Vega. You know you want to. Let's go."

After a brief internal debate, I relent. "Okay, fine. But nothing too fancy."

"Noted," Rachel says, already leading the way to her car. "There's a great little Italian place a few blocks away. Quiet, cozy, and the food's amazing."

Jade slides into the back seat with me, shooting me a teasing grin. "See? Totally about the food."

Rachel pretends not to hear her, though I catch the faintest smile tugging at her lips as she starts the car.

Jade flips the menu back and forth, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Okay, I'm stuck. Should I get the carbonara or the chicken piccata? Both sound amazing."

I glance up from my own menu, smirking. "You're really asking me to decide for you? You know how indecisive I get."

Jade narrows her eyes at me playfully. "I'm not asking you to decide for me, fiancée. I'm asking you to pick one so I can order the other and we can share."

"Ah," I say, feigning realization, "so this is less about my preference and more about you wanting to eat both."

"Exactly," Jade replies without a hint of shame. "This is strategy, babe."

Rachel, sitting across from us, raises an eyebrow and leans back in her chair. "Jade, you could just order two entrees. No one's stopping you."

Jade scoffs. "And let Tori miss out on the joy of culinary compromise? What kind of fiancée would I be?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "Alright, fine. I'll get the chicken piccata, and you can have your carbonara. But if you hog the pasta, I'm switching plates."

Jade beams triumphantly. "Deal. See? This is why we're perfect for each other."

Rachel watches us with an amused smile. "You two are something else. I'm just over here trying to decide if I want lasagna or ravioli, and you're turning dinner into a negotiation."

"It's called partnership," Jade says, her voice dripping with mock seriousness. "It's the foundation of a good marriage."

I roll my eyes but can't help the grin spreading across my face. "You're making your own marriage rules now? Would they even work?"

"You said yes, so yeah," Jade retorts, her tone teasing but affectionate.

The server comes by, and we place our orders—Jade's carbonara, my chicken piccata, and Rachel's lasagna. Once the menus are collected, Rachel leans in, resting her chin on her hand.

"How're you feeling about today, honey? Still buzzing from the meeting?"

I nod, the memory of Mason's enthusiasm flashing through my mind. "Yeah, it feels surreal. I mean, I know nothing's set in stone yet, but it's exciting—and terrifying."

Rachel smiles warmly. "That's normal. Big steps always feel that way. But you handled yourself really well back there. I'm proud of you."

Jade nods, reaching for my hand under the table. "She's right. You were awesome, Tori. Even if you were ready to bolt out of there before we went in."

"Hey!" I protest, though I can't help laughing. "You're supposed to keep that between us."

Jade smirks. "What can I say? I like reminding you how far you've come. Besides, I'm your biggest fan. It's my job."

Rachel chuckles, raising her water glass. "To new beginnings, then."

I smile, clinking my glass with hers and Jade's. "To new beginnings."

The server sets down the breadbasket and a plate of bruschetta in the middle of the table, the rich aroma of roasted garlic and fresh basil wafting up. I eagerly grab a slice of bread, spreading butter on it as it melts into the warm surface. Jade, of course, eyes the bruschetta first and claims the biggest piece with a satisfied smirk.

Rachel leans back in her chair, picking up her fork but not making any moves toward the food yet. "Alright, I have a confession. This dinner wasn't just to celebrate the meeting going well."

Jade raises an eyebrow, mid-chew. "I mean, we already knew taht."

"Oh shush," Rachel smirks. "Yes, I was also starving, but this really is a celebration. This seemed like the perfect excuse to kill two birds with one stone."

Jade stares at her for a beat before laughing, setting her bruschetta back down. "You're unreal, Rachel. I thought this was some grand gesture for Tori, and it's just you wanting carbs."

Rachel shrugs, completely unapologetic. "Can't it be both? I'm an excellent multitasker."

I shake my head, trying not to laugh with my mouth full of bread. "Honestly, I don't care what the reason is. I'm just glad we're here. And eating."

Jade turns her attention to me, her teasing grin softening. "That's because you didn't eat anything this morning. You were too busy freaking out."

"I wasn't freaking out!" I protest, though we both know it's not true.

Jade leans back in her chair, looking smug. "Sure, sure. That's why you didn't even touch the toast I made you. And my toast is perfect."

"It is not," I argue, laughing. "You just think everything you cook is amazing."

"Because it is," she fires back, lifting her chin dramatically. "Unlike your, uh… creative attempts in the kitchen."

Rachel snickers, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. "You've got to give Tori some credit, though. She does have a few dishes she does well."

Jade nods, smirking. "Yeah, like pancakes. But only because I gave her step-by-step instructions the first five times she made them."

"Hey!" I protest, though I can't help but laugh. "My pancakes are amazing, thank you very much. And so are my grilled cheese sandwiches."

Rachel laughs softly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Tori, grilled cheese doesn't count. That's a universal beginner meal."

"It does when I make it!" I retort, leaning over to poke Jade's arm. "You're just jealous."

"Jealous of what?" Jade quips, stealing another piece of bruschetta. "That I don't set off the smoke alarm every time I try to boil water?"

"I don't—okay, that happened once," I admit, covering my face with my hands as both Jade and Rachel dissolve into laughter.

As the teasing dies down, the conversation shifts into easier territory. Rachel tells us about a particularly bizarre client interaction she had earlier in the week, and Jade recounts a ridiculous moment during her drama class rehearsal. I mostly listen, content to soak in the warmth of the moment, though I chime in here and there with my own observations or one-liners.

By the time the server clears the appetizer plates and promises our entrees will be out soon, I'm feeling good and relaxed. Between the humor, the bread, and the sheer comfort of being around Jade and Rachel, the worry from earlier has completely faded.

Jade nudges me under the table, a quiet smile tugging at her lips. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah," I admit, taking a sip of my water. "A lot better. Thanks."

She just smirks and leans back in her chair. "Good. Because I wasn't about to let you ruin dinner with your anxiety. Especially not when there's pasta involved."

Rachel chuckles, shaking her head. "You two are impossible. But hey, if the food's good, maybe we'll even order dessert."

Jade raises an eyebrow. "Oh, come on, Rachel. We all know you're already planning to get tiramisu."

"And you'll probably eat half of it," Rachel counters, smiling slyly.

I laugh, leaning back in my chair. "You two can share if you want, but I'm getting a slice of cheesecake all for myself if we get dessert."

"You say that, but you'll still share it with me." Jade grins as she reaches over and squeezes my hand briefly before the server approaches with our entrees, the smell of rich sauces and herbs making my mouth water.

Jade takes a bite of her carbonara, her eyes briefly lighting up as the creamy sauce coats the pasta perfectly. I dig into my chicken piccata, savoring the tender chicken and the zesty lemon sauce. The flavors are rich but fresh, and I'm already feeling satisfied.

I glance over at Jade, who's quietly enjoying her meal, and without a word, I swap plates with her. She raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by how quickly I make the switch, but doesn't say anything. We continue eating, the comforting hum of the restaurant in the background as we savor our respective dishes.

Jade grins at me between bites. "See, I told you it was a good idea."

I nod, taking another bite of her pasta. "You were right," I agree, my voice full of contentment. "This is amazing."

She chuckles softly, clearly pleased with herself. We continue to eat in comfortable silence, occasionally exchanging glances or a small smile, but mostly lost in our food. We swap back eventually and Rachel is quietly enjoying her lasagna across from us, seeming just as content as we are.

We both finish the last bites of our dishes at the same time, and Jade looks at me, her eyes soft and affectionate. She doesn't say anything, but the way she looks at me tells me everything I need to know. I smile back, my heart light, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

The waiter clears our plates, and as he asks about dessert, I glance at the menu. My eyes immediately land on the chocolate cheesecake, and I don't bother looking at anything else. Jade catches my expression and smirks knowingly.

"Tiramisu for me," she says, handing the waiter her menu. "And a coffee."

Rachel nods. "Same here. Tiramisu and coffee."

I hand my menu over, trying not to look too guilty. "I'll have the chocolate cheesecake. And, um, hot cocoa instead of coffee, please."

Jade raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. "You and chocolate," she teases as the waiter leaves. "It's like a love affair. You sure you're not going to turn diabetic one day with the way you hoard it?"

I give her a suspicious look. "Hoard it? What are you talking about?"

She leans back in her chair, a sly grin spreading across her face. "Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Your secret stash of fancy chocolates? The ones you keep in that little decorative box in the closet, like it's some kind of treasure chest?"

My eyes widen. "You found that?!"

Rachel starts laughing, clearly intrigued. "Tori, you have a stash of expensive chocolates? And you don't share?"

"It's not like that!" I protest, my cheeks heating up. "It's just... special. You know, for emergencies."

Jade snorts. "Emergencies, huh? Like, what, a craving you can't resist? Or when you need a pick-me-up after I beat you at Mario Kart?"

I cross my arms and try to look offended, but the corner of my mouth betrays me with a smile. "That stash is private. And for the record, I've beaten you before, so don't get cocky."

Rachel shakes her head, still laughing. "I don't think I've ever seen you this defensive, Tori. It's kind of adorable."

"Adorable," Jade echoes with a grin, leaning closer. "But seriously, Tori, it's not much of a secret if I can find it."

Before I can reply, the desserts arrive. Jade and Rachel dig into their tiramisu, while I take my first bite of cheesecake, savoring the creamy chocolatey goodness.

Jade nudges my foot under the table. "At least I know what to bribe you with if I ever need to get out of trouble."

"Nice try," I say, taking another bite. "But I'm not sharing my cheesecake, either."

We laugh, and the teasing continues as we sip on our drinks, the warm cocoa a perfect comfort for me.

After we finish our desserts, the last bits of tiramisu and cheesecake vanishing from our plates, Rachel reaches for the check with a grin.

"I told you, tonight's on me," she says, her tone firm but warm. "We're celebrating, after all."

I look at her, blushing. "Rachel, you really don't have to—"

"I know I don't have to," she interrupts with a wink, "but I want to. This is a big step for you, Tori. You deserve to be celebrated."

I glance at Jade, who's looking at me with a proud smile, her eyes soft. "She's right, you know. You've earned this. Let her treat you."

I can't help but grin, feeling a little overwhelmed by the support. "Okay, okay. I'll accept, but only because you're both so persistent."

Rachel chuckles as she handles the payment, her eyes twinkling. "That's what I thought."

Soon enough, we're standing up from the table, jackets on and ready to go. The air outside is cool, the night sky clear and full of stars. Rachel hugs me before we head out, pulling me close for a brief, tight embrace.

"I'm really proud of you, Tori," she says softly. "This opportunity with Mason? It's huge. You've got this."

I hug her back, trying to ignore the little flutter in my chest. "Thanks, Rachel. It still feels surreal. But... I think I'm ready for it."

She smiles, her expression warm and encouraging. "I have no doubt. And don't forget—you've got a whole team behind you. Jade, me, Jasmine, everyone… we're all here."

Her words hit deeper than I expect, and for a moment, I'm speechless. I nod, feeling more grounded than I had earlier. "I'll try not to."

"Good," she replies, giving me a final squeeze before stepping back. "Now, go home and get some rest. You've got a big week ahead of you."

Jade is already by the door, waiting patiently. I walk toward her, my hand reaching for hers. "Thanks again, Rachel. For everything."

Rachel waves us off as we head out. Jade smiles at me as we walk side by side down the sidewalk.

"Celebratory dinner was a success," Jade says, her voice light.

"Definitely," I agree, smiling at her. "It feels good. Like everything's finally starting to come together."

Jade's expression softens as she looks at me taking my hand. "I'm really proud of you, Tor." I lean in for a kiss and we walk hand in hand to the car. The excitement of the day left me ready to hit the bed and sleep for the next 3 days.

(2 Weeks Later)

The steady thud of my fists hitting the heavy bag fills the gym as Shelby leans against the ropes of the nearby boxing ring, watching me with her usual sharp gaze. The sound of gloves smacking leather is oddly soothing, giving me a rhythm to focus on while my mind wrestles with all the thoughts swirling around.

"Keep your guard up, sis," Shelby calls out, her tone somewhere between teasing and firm. "You're dropping your left after every jab."

"Got it," I reply, adjusting my stance. I throw another jab-cross combo, focusing on snapping my left hand back faster.

Shelby grins. "Better. Now, pivot your back foot more when you throw that cross. You'll get more power."

I nod, throwing another punch and feeling the difference. "Like that?"

"Exactly," she says, folding her arms. "Look at you, taking notes. Who says popstars can't throw hands?"

I laugh, rolling my eyes as I reset my stance. "Yeah, well, I've got a lot to work out right now. Punching helps."

Shelby raises an eyebrow, her expression turning curious. "What's got you all wound up? Don't tell me it's the whole record deal thing. Didn't Rachel already go over the contract for you?"

"She did," I say, stepping back from the bag to grab my water bottle. "She made a ton of revisions, and Mason agreed to all of them. The new contract's perfect. Everything's ready to go—I just need to sign it."

"Then what's the holdup?" Shelby asks, tilting her head. "If the deal's solid, what's stopping you?"

I take a deep breath, unscrewing the cap of my water bottle but not drinking right away. "It's not the deal. It's me. What if I sign this, and no one cares about my music? What if I put myself out there and it all just... flops?"

Shelby straightens up, her arms still crossed. "Tori, stop right there. First of all, Mason wouldn't back you if he didn't see something in you. Second, you've got talent. You've got heart. That's already more than half the battle."

I sigh, sitting on the edge of a nearby bench and resting the water bottle between my hands. "But what if that's not enough? What if I put everything into this, and no one listens? What if I fail?"

Shelby walks over, dropping down onto the bench next to me. She rests an elbow on her knee and looks at me with the kind of seriousness that's rare for her. "Listen, Tori. I'm sure every artist feels like this at some point. Hell, every fighter, too. You step into that ring—or onto that stage—and you're putting yourself out there for everyone to see. It's terrifying. But you've got to do it anyway."

I glance at her, still uncertain. "And what if I fall flat on my face?"

"Then you get back up," she says simply, shrugging. "That's what makes you different. You've already been through stuff most people couldn't handle, and you're still standing. This? This is nothing compared to that."

Her words hit me harder than any punch ever could. I let them sink in for a moment before nodding slowly. "You really think I can do this?"

Shelby grins, nudging me with her shoulder. "I know you can, Popstar. Now stop doubting yourself and get ready to crush it."

I can't help but smile, the knot of anxiety in my chest loosening just a little. "Thanks, Shelby. I needed that."

"Anytime," she says, standing and stretching. "Now, I think it's time for you to see how far you've come with your fighting. How about a light spar?"

I freeze, staring at her like she's grown a second head. "A spar? With you? Shelby, you're literally a professional! I'm not."

"And that's exactly why I'm offering," she says, smirking. "You've been putting in the work, Popstar. It's time you got some first-hand experience. Who better to give it to you than me?"

"Someone less likely to knock me out?" I suggest, half-joking but also very serious. "Shelby, you could flatten me in your sleep."

She laughs, shaking her head. "I'm not gonna knock you out. It's a light spar, Tori. No full power, no crazy moves. Just enough to give you a feel for it."

I bite my lip, glancing toward the ring like it might swallow me whole. "I don't know... I mean, I've never actually fought anyone. What if I mess up? Or get hurt?"

Shelby steps closer, her expression softening just a bit. "You're not gonna mess up, and I'm not gonna let you get hurt. That's the whole point of this—to teach you, not to beat you. You've been doing great on the bag, but it's a different ball game when you've got someone hitting back. Trust me, you'll learn a lot."

I hesitate, my nerves tangling into a tight knot in my stomach. "I don't want to embarrass myself."

Shelby places a hand on my shoulder, her smile encouraging. "You won't. And even if you do, who cares? This is just between us. No one's here to judge you. Come on, Sis—don't let fear stop you from leveling up."

I take a deep breath, weighing her words. She's right—I've been working hard, and a part of me does want to see how far I've come. And if there's anyone I can trust to push me without breaking me, it's Shelby.

"Alright," I say, nodding reluctantly. "But you promise to go easy on me?"

She grins, holding up three fingers in a mock scout's honor. "I swear."

Standing in the ring, I feel my pulse hammering in my ears. Shelby looks calm, loose, and utterly in her element. Her grin is confident, but not in a way that feels patronizing. She's been teaching me for months, but this is the first time she's suggested we spar. I'm trying not to panic at the idea.

"You ready?" she asks, bouncing on her toes.

"Not really," I admit, adjusting my gloves.

"That's alright," Shelby says, her voice teasing but encouraging. "First rule: stop hesitating. You've got decent form, but all the technique in the world means nothing if you don't commit. Let's go. Hit me."

I blink. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," she says, motioning for me to come at her. "And don't pull your punches too much. I'm trained to take hits. I'll let you get the first few in."

I hesitate, glancing at her like this is some kind of trap. But she doesn't move, her stance relaxed but steady, her confidence unshaken. Taking a deep breath, I step forward, feint with a jab, then throw a right cross. My glove makes contact with her shoulder, and she barely flinches.

"Not bad," she says, nodding. "Again. This time, aim higher."

I swallow hard, adjusting my stance. My left hand darts out in a quick jab, glancing off her guard, and before I can second-guess myself, I follow up with a right hook. Shelby shifts just enough to take the punch on her glove, nodding approvingly.

"Better," she says. "Now, stop worrying about hurting me. You're not gonna break me, Tori. Go harder."

"Easier said than done," I mutter, shaking out my hands.

Shelby smirks. "Fine. If you need more motivation…" She darts forward, her fist snapping out in a mock jab that doesn't land but sends a jolt through me. I stumble back, wide-eyed.

"See? That's how fast I could come at you," she says. "If you don't make me respect your punches, I won't have to hold back as much. Got it?"

Gritting my teeth, I nod. I shuffle forward again, focusing on the target. This time, I throw a combination—jab, cross, hook—and Shelby lets me land them. The gloves connect with her arms and torso, and though she doesn't budge, her grin widens.

"Good! Now, mix it up!" she calls out. "Don't be predictable!"

I nod, focusing on my footwork as I shuffle forward. I fake a jab, then pivot for a body shot. Shelby dodges with ease but nods approvingly.

"Nice try," she says, adjusting her stance.

Shelby's patient with me, guiding me through each move, but it's starting to feel like I'm just going through the motions. I'm trying to push myself, but I can't seem to make any real impact.

And then, just as I'm about to throw another combination, something shifts. I stop thinking about it. I stop trying to be perfect, trying to land the "right" punch. My body just moves—quick and fluid, instinct taking over. For a split second, I can hear Shelby's voice in my head, reminding me not to hold back too much. So, I don't.

I feint a jab, a quick little movement to get her to react. She shifts to the side, anticipating the hit, but I don't let her control the pace. I follow with a hook—fast and hard, aiming for her side. She shifts again, but I'm already in motion, pivoting and throwing my right cross before she can fully adjust.

It lands.

I feel the impact as my fist connects with her, and I see her stumble back. It's just a little, but enough to catch my breath. Her eyes widen in surprise, and I can see the flicker of admiration in them before she regains her balance.

She takes a step back, looking at me for a moment like she's sizing me up, as if trying to process what just happened. I stand there, frozen, my heart racing in my chest. Did I just—did I really catch her off guard?

Then, Shelby lets out a low chuckle, and I realize it's not just surprise. It's respect. She grins, the kind of grin that tells me I've impressed her, even if just a little.

"Okay," she says, laughing softly. "I didn't see that coming. You caught me there, Tori. Nice one."

I feel a rush of pride flood through me, but I try to keep it from showing too much. I can't help the grin that pulls at my lips, though. I actually caught her. Shelby, the undefeated champion, the woman who's literally trained to take hits, just got knocked back by a punch from me.

She raises her hands, not in surrender, but in acknowledgment. "I see you, Sis. That was a solid hit. You're not just flailing around in there anymore. You're thinking, you're reacting."

I try to brush it off, though I can't hide the pride in my chest. "Thanks."

Shelby nods, not missing a beat. "Keep that up. You're starting to really feel the rhythm. But don't let it go to your head though. I'm not about to let you win that easily." Her tone is playful, but there's a fire in her eyes, the same intensity I've seen every time she steps into the ring.

I chuckle, lifting my hands again, a little lighter now, a little more confident. "Wouldn't dream of it."

She laughs and shakes her head. "Good. Let's see what else you got."

We continue to spar, and every time I throw a punch, I feel more sure of myself. The doubt starts to fade. I stop second-guessing my movements and just let my body react. Each punch lands a little sharper, a little more precise. And though I know I'm still no match for her, it feels like I'm getting better. I'm learning from the best.

Shelby's not holding back anymore. She's pushing me—letting me test my limits, but not going easy on me anymore. Her counters are quick, her dodges precise, but every now and then, I see her give a little ground.

By the time we take a break, I'm out of breath, sweat is dripping down my face, and my muscles are aching. I've pushed past that barrier of doubt, at least for today. And I know there's a lot more to go, but I feel great.

"So," she says, her voice light, but with a hint of curiosity. "You ever think about doing this professionally? You've got the heart for it, and the skill's coming along fast. You could fight like me, if you wanted."

I laugh, the sound coming easier than I expect. "No way," I reply quickly, wiping some sweat from my forehead. "This is just good therapy for me. I'm not looking to get punched for a living."

Shelby smirks, climbing out of the ring with me and stretching her arms over her head. "Yeah, I get it. It's a tough gig. But you're a fast learner, you know. I'm not saying you're ready for the cage yet, but you've got the drive. That's the first step. And honestly, a lot of people just fight for the adrenaline. The thrill of it."

I shake my head, smiling, though the thought of stepping into a professional ring feels so far from where I am right now. "I don't think I could handle the pressure. Plus, it's not about the thrill for me. This is more about just being able to clear my head and focus. I'm not trying to be a fighter, Shelby. I'm just trying to get better—at everything."

She raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but then nods slowly as if she understands. "Fair enough. I just thought, with how much you're improving, you might've had that itch." She chuckles. "Guess I'll have to keep that title of 'champ' for myself, huh?"

I laugh. "I'm happy to leave the punching to you, champ. I'll stick to using my fists to defend my music career, if that's alright."

Shelby smirks again, an almost proud look in her eyes. "Can't argue with that. But don't be surprised if you end up with more than just a punch or two under your belt after this."

I roll my eyes but can't hide the smile spreading across my face. "I'm not looking to start any fights outside the studio, but I appreciate the vote of confidence."

As Shelby stretches and works the stiffness out of her shoulders, her assistant, Skye, approaches quietly. She's carrying fresh towels and two bottles of water, her movements careful and deliberate. Skye is always so composed, yet there's a visible shyness in the way she glances at Shelby, her cheeks faintly pink as she steps closer.

"Here," Skye says softly, giving Shelby and I one of each. "Thought you might need this."

"Thanks, Skye," Shelby replies with an easy smile, taking the water and uncapping it to drink. She tilts her head toward her hands. "Mind helping me get these wraps off? My fingers are like jelly after sparring with this one." She nods at me, her grin playful.

I laugh and wave a hand. "Yeah, sure. Blame me for all your troubles."

Skye gives me a small smile before focusing on Shelby's hands. She works deftly but gently, unwinding the wraps with care. Her focus is intense, and I can't help but notice the way she steals quick glances at Shelby, her expression a mix of admiration and nervous energy. Shelby, of course, seems oblivious, chatting casually with me as Skye finishes up.

"You know," Shelby says, tossing the empty water bottle into a nearby bin, "some of the guys are throwing a little party at our place in a little while. You should come, Tori. It'll give me a chance to introduce you to some of my friends."

I pause, a little surprised. "Really? You want to introduce me to your fighter crew?"

Shelby smirks, rolling her shoulders as Skye finishes removing the wraps and steps back. "Yeah, why not? You've been putting in the work here, and I think they'd get a kick out of meeting you. Plus, it's a good way to relax a little. You've been wound up about this contract stuff—might do you some good."

I hesitate, biting my lip. I'm not exactly the party type, especially not in a room full of fighters who probably train harder than I can imagine. But Shelby's grin is infectious, and the idea of seeing a different side of her world is intriguing.

"Alright," I say finally, nodding. "I'll come. But if anyone tries to challenge me to an arm-wrestling match or something, I'm running."

Shelby laughs, clapping me on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Sis. I'll protect you."

Behind her, Skye is folding the wraps neatly, her eyes darting between us as if she wants to say something but isn't sure if she should. Shelby seems to sense her hesitation and turns back to her with a grin.

"You're coming too, right, Skye? Wouldn't be the same without you."

Skye's face turns a deeper shade of pink, and she looks down at the wraps in her hands. "Oh, um... if you want me to, sure."

"Of course I want you to," Shelby says warmly, slinging an arm over her shoulder in a casual, friendly way that makes Skye freeze for a moment before relaxing. "You work hard, Skye. You deserve to have a little fun too."

I watch the interaction with a small smile. It's clear how much Shelby values her assistant, even if she's totally oblivious to the way Skye looks at her like she's the sun.

"Alright, Tori. Shower time before we both start smelling like a gym bag."

I laugh and grab my own towel from my bag. "Fair point. But I'm going on record saying I was nowhere near as sweaty as you."

Shelby chuckles, shaking her head. "Keep telling yourself that, popstar."

We head toward the locker rooms, and I find an empty shower stall to clean up. The hot water feels like heaven on my sore muscles, washing away not just the sweat but the tension lingering from the day. By the time I finish, I'm feeling refreshed and a lot more relaxed.

I step out of the shower, dry off quickly, and slip into a pair of dark jeans and a comfortable button up. Pulling my damp hair into a loose ponytail, I gather my things and head out to the main area of the gym.

Shelby is already there, dressed in a casual outfit of joggers and a fitted hoodie, her hair still damp but combed back. She's leaning casually against a bench, chatting briefly with Skye, who is holding a clipboard and nodding along.

"Finally!" Shelby exclaims when she sees me, grinning. "Thought you got lost in there."

"Relax," I say, rolling my eyes. "Not all of us can shower in under two minutes like you."

"Efficiency, Sis," Shelby retorts, tapping the side of her head. "It's a lifestyle. Now, ready to go?

I think so, yeah. But I'm still not sure what I'm walking into tonight."

Shelby raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. "It's not that wild. Just a few of the other fighters hanging out. A little bit of pool, music, and some drinks, no alcohol for us though. Skye's the only one here who can touch it."

I laugh, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling up. "Sounds fun."

Skye gives me another shy smile, almost as if she's hesitant to say anything, but then she quickly speaks up. "If you need anything, I'll be right there, for both of you."

I nod at her, giving her a smile. "Thanks, Skye."

Shelby gives her a playful side-eye, smirking. "Tori's a big girl, Skye. She can handle herself. But I know you're just looking for an excuse to keep an eye on me and make sure I don't get too rowdy."

Skye blushes at the teasing, her cheeks turning pink as she quickly looks away, making me chuckle. Shelby pats Skye on the back, grinning. "Relax, Skye. It's gonna be fun."

Turning to me, Shelby says, "Alright, let's go. It's already getting late, and I wanna make sure we get there before everyone starts getting too wild."

The moment we step out of the gym, the flash of cameras blinds me. A group of paparazzi lingers outside, and while it's not a massive swarm, it's enough to make me freeze. Their voices cut through the air, calling out questions as they snap photo after photo.

"Shelby! How are you feeling about your next fight?"

"Any plans to go for another title defense soon?"

Then some of the attention shifts to me, their curiosity obvious.

"Tori Vega, are the rumors true about Platinum Records?"

"Are you working on an album?"

It's disorienting. I blink, my mind racing as I try to figure out what to do. Shelby is already moving, used to this kind of chaos. She tugs her hoodie up a little higher and gives a short wave to the crowd without slowing her pace.

Before I can figure out how to follow her, Skye is at my side. Her hand rests lightly on my arm, her voice calm but firm. "Tori, don't stop. Just stay close to me, okay?"

I look at her, startled by how different she seems. Gone is the shy, quiet assistant I've come to know. In her place is someone who moves with confidence and purpose, shielding me from the cameras as she leads me forward.

She glances back, her tone reassuring. "Keep your head up, but don't make eye contact with the cameras. Just focus on getting to the car."

I nod, my body moving before my mind fully catches up. Shelby is a few steps ahead, answering one or two questions with quick, practiced ease.

"Yeah, I'm excited for what's next," she says, her tone casual but professional.

When one reporter calls out, "Shelby, is your sister joining the fight world, too?"

Shelby laughs. "Nah, she's got her own thing going on, actually."

The cameras swivel back to me, but Skye doesn't let them linger. She adjusts her stance slightly, blocking their view of me just enough to guide me along. Her calm confidence is contagious, and I feel myself breathing a little easier.

We reach the car in what feels like an eternity but is probably only a minute or two. Shelby's driver opens the door, and Skye gestures for me to get in first.

Once we're all inside and the door closes, the noise and flashes fade away. The car starts moving, and I exhale deeply, leaning back against the seat.

"You okay?" Skye asks, her tone softening now that we're out of the chaos.

I nod, though my voice comes out shaky. "Yeah. That was... intense."

Shelby smirks from across the car. "First time's always weird, huh? You'll get used to it. Just remember, they're vultures, but they're also harmless, more or less."

Skye chimes in, her earlier confidence still evident. "And if you don't want to answer, don't. Shelby's right—they're not going to do anything but talk. You don't owe them a single word if you're not feeling it."

Her words are surprisingly comforting, and I glance at her, grateful. "Thanks. I just... wasn't expecting it. I mean, they were asking about you, Shelby, but then they turned to me, and I didn't know what to do."

Skye shrugs, a small smile playing on her lips. "You did fine. Just keep your cool, and it'll get easier. You've got a lot going for you. People are bound to notice."

Shelby grins. "And, hey, if they don't, I'll just remind them why they should. Loudly."

The car rolls to a stop in front of a massive house. The big driveway is packed with cars, and even from outside, I can hear the hum of conversation and the bassline of music thudding inside. The sleek, modern design of the house is a far cry from the usual suburban parties I'm used to.

Shelby hops out first, her usual confident stride on full display as she adjusts her hoodie. Skye follows, her quiet confidence evident in the way she scans the area before stepping aside to let me out. I stare up at the house and have to fight to stop my jaw from dropping. Shelby lives here?

"You ready?" Shelby asks, grinning back at me.

"As I'll ever be," I reply, my voice not quite as steady as I want it to be.

"Relax," Shelby says, clapping me on the shoulder. "These guys are all cool. And, bonus, they already know about you. You're the mysterious twin I've been bragging about."

"That doesn't exactly make me less nervous," I mutter, earning a laugh from her.

Skye chimes in, her voice softer but no less reassuring. "They'll love you. Just be yourself."

With that, we head up the driveway, passing a few people lounging by the door. As soon as we step inside, the chatter grows louder. The house is just as impressive inside as it is outside, all clean lines and open spaces, with people scattered in small groups across the kitchen and living room.

Almost immediately, someone spots Shelby and calls her name.

"Shelby! Finally!" A tall, broad-shouldered guy with a shaved head makes his way over, a grin splitting his face. "I was starting to think you were gonna bail."

"Dante," Shelby greets him with a fist bump before he pulls her into a half hug, making her laugh and shove him away. "Like I'd miss this."

Dante steps back, his sharp eyes landing on me. "And this must be the twin. Tori, right?"

I nod, taken aback by how quickly he's singled me out. "Yeah, that's me."

He holds out a hand, his grin still easy. "Nice to meet you. Shelby's been talking you up nonstop. Glad to finally put a face to the name."

"Uh, thanks," I say, shaking his hand.

"And Skye," he says, turning to her with a nod. "Good to see you again."

"Hey, Dante," she replies, a small smile curving her lips.

It doesn't take long for others to start noticing Shelby and, by extension, me. People keep coming over to say hi to her, their familiarity making it clear she's well-liked here.

"You weren't kidding about them knowing you," I murmur as another fighter comes over to clap Shelby on the back.

"Told you," she says, flashing me a grin. "You're the mystery guest tonight. Enjoy it."

A few people nod at Skye as well, exchanging quick greetings with her. Despite her usual quiet demeanor, she seems completely at ease, her confidence showing through in the small, polite interactions.

I, on the other hand, feel like I have a spotlight on me.

Eventually, Dante returns with drinks—sodas for us, as promised. He hands me one with a smile. "So, Tori, Shelby says you're a singer."

"She does, does she?" I ask, glancing at Shelby.

"Of course I do," Shelby says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, yeah, I sing," I admit, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

"She also mentioned you might be signing with Platinum Records soon," Dante continues. "That's huge. Congrats."

"Thanks," I say, fiddling with the tab on my soda.

Shelby leans in, lowering her voice just enough for only me to hear. "Relax, they're just curious. No pressure."

I nod, taking a deep breath and sipping my soda. The party continues to buzz around us, but as time passes, I start to feel a little more comfortable. Even though I'm not used to this kind of attention, the people here are friendly enough.

I'm going to put a Starter-warning here. The following chapter is going to be intense, very intense, and much longer than any of my other chapters have been. I'm looking at about 15k words on it as I work. I thought about splitting that one into 2 chapters, but I couldn't bring myself to make you all wait a couple days to get the rest of it. The next chapter will have the following warnings on it: Violence, attempted assault, near-death, and blood. If you feel that you cannot continue due to these, I completely understand. I do not want you to read anything that may make you uncomfortable. -Mercy