Cat Valentine sat curled up on the sofa of her Brooklyn apartment, her phone resting on the arm of the couch as she accepted her decision to go. The RSVP had been something she'd battled in her mind since she first got the notifcation. If it wasn't for the fact the old account was still linked to her spam email - she would have never even gotten it. Hollywood Arts had been her sanctuary once, and those people, her people, had been her lifeline. But those memories were now carefully tucked away.

Her eyes drifted to the window, where the New York skyline stretched out before her. Broadway had always been the dream. It had taken years of clawing her way through auditions and late-night shifts to make it here, but she'd done it. The applause, the stage lights, the thrill of transforming into someone else—it was everything she'd ever wanted. Yet there were moments, late at night when the city went quiet, that she'd think of California and wonder if she'd made the right choice.

She picked up her phone again, scrolling through the event page and the list of attendees. Tori had really gone all out. Or Victoria was it now? Thats at least what Cat had seen of her, Victoria Vega the pop-star. The listed address was a rooftop bar in Los Angeles, a red carpet, a DJ…it was so Hollywood. Cat smiled softly. It was just like Tori to make it feel like a production. But even with all the glitz and glamour, Cat knew why she was going. It wasn't for the venue or the playlist—it was for them. The six of them.

Her gaze wandered to the shelf above her television, where a single photo sat in a simple silver frame. It was from their senior year, taken in the Blackbox Theater. They were all there, arms around each other, smiling like the world couldn't touch them. Cat's smile faded as she thought back to that year.

Her senior year at Hollywood Arts had started like any other. Performances, rehearsals, homework she barely touched. She'd always been a little scattered, a little lost in her own world, but that year had knocked her off her axis. Her Nonna—her rock, her only family in LA—had died a month into the school year. It had been sudden, a heart attack that no one saw coming. One minute she was there, fussing over Cat's hair and making her favorite biscotti, and the next, she was gone.

Cat had been numb at the funeral, barely registering the condolences from family and friends. But when the will was read and her Nonna's apartment was left to her, something shifted. Her parents, already distant and preoccupied, didn't bother to fight it- they were already busy with her brother in Idaho.

Cat had stood in the middle of the apartment, the deed clutched in her hand, and made a decision. She was seventeen, but she didn't care. She hired a lawyer, got herself properly emancipated and made a plan. For the first time in her life, she was on her own.

If it hadn't been for her friends, she'd have instantly sold the flat and used the money to leave. But there was something about those people, about Hollywood Arts, that made her stay. She stuck it out, going through the motions as everyone else talked about college and futures she couldn't relate to. They'd ask her where she was applying, and she'd just shrug. She'd told them she'd failed her SATs. Only Jade knew the truth: Cat had never even sat for them. College was never part of the equation.

Broadway was. She'd known it since she was a little girl, standing on her Nonna's coffee table, belting out show tunes. She didn't care about backup plans or practicality. Performing was all she had ever wanted, and she'd die trying if she had to.

The hardest part had been saying goodbye. On the last day of school, when everyone else was crying over yearbooks and promising to stay in touch, Cat had stayed quiet. She hugged them all tightly, whispered that she'd miss them, and then went home to pack. By the time the graduation caps had been tossed, she was already on a plane to New York.

New York had been hard at first, but it had become home. Still, the thought of going back to California stirred something in her. Excitement, yes, but also fear. What if she didn't belong there anymore? What if she'd never really belonged?

She picked up her phone again. The event page was still open, the RSVP list growing. She scrolled down, Jade hadn't replied either. Jade. The only one she'd kept in touch with, but even that was off and on. She sent her gothic friend a message.

'Decided to go. Make it easier for me will you?'

She sent.

'No'

A reply equally as quick. Jade West, the screenwriter who knew exactly how to say everything with very little.

'Pleeeeeeeease'

'No!'

'Don't you want to show off how hot you are now?' Cat teased, flattery always worked on her.

'I was always hot.' The first message came, followed slowly by another. 'I'll think about it. No promises.'

Cat smiled. For Jade, that was practically a yes.