A/N: This fic contains potentially triggering subject matter including but not limited to: suicidal references, gun violence, sexual trauma, homelessness, drug abuse, depression, homophobia, and cancer. It may contain inaccuracies. No copyright infringement intended. Thanks for reading!

BOOK TWO - PART THREE - CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

"Follow me."

Sam looked around anxiously. She was currently backstage at the Pacific Amphitheatre for Jimmy Fallon's talk show, and it was crowded and chaotic. The moment that they'd arrived, Cat had been whisked away by the producers. Robbie was then pulled aside by the hair and makeup team. Now Sam was alone except for the very large man in a business suit and shades standing next to her. "Where are we going?" she asked him.

"Let's go," the man grunted out, ignoring her question. He led her through the crowd of people and eventually made it to a corridor lined with rooms with closed doors. Then he directed Sam to one near the end—it had her name tacked on the door. "Your dressing room," he explained in response to Sam's confused look. He unlocked it and pushed the door open. "Go ahead in."

Shocked, Sam stepped inside the room and looked around. It wasn't a very big space, but it was full of fancy clothes and accessories and mirrors. There was also a large platter of fruit near the door. Sam immediately devoured a kiwi slice. "This is all for me?"

"Are you pleased with your accommodations?" the man asked in an overly formal tone.

"Uh, yeah! This is actually pretty cool, man," Sam answered. She'd had to share one dressing room with all the others when they'd made their iCarly appearance. This was much, much different. She looked around again, then awkwardly asked, "So… what am I supposed to do?"

Just then, the hair and makeup team filed into the room and began poking and prodding at her. Sam hated it, but she let them—she was desperate for anything that might help her appearance. She went along with their decisions without complaint. Then, before she could even check her reflection, the stylists came in and started trying different outfits on her. Two and a half hours later, they all stepped back, looking pleased with themselves.

"We're finished. Go take a look," the lead stylist told Sam.

Terrified of what she might see, Sam squeezed her eyes shut and cautiously approached a full-length mirror. Then she opened them. She saw that she now had side-swept bangs, and her hair hung in wavy blonde rivulets that fell evenly around her shoulders. Her makeup was very subtle, but still appropriately formal. She was dressed in a gray plaid shirt and dark blue jeans, and it was just as casual as she'd hoped it would be, while still looking surprisingly classy. She could hardly believe it—she looked… hot, somehow. She couldn't wait for Cat to see her like this.

"So… what do you think? Good? Bad?" the lead stylist asked.

"It's perfect. Thank you so much," Sam said seriously—this had already majorly boosted her self-confidence. She no longer felt ashamed to go on camera. "Do you guys know if Cat and Robbie are done too?"

"They're getting set up—Catarina's performing a track from her new album live for the first time, and then Jimmy will talk with her alone. Then they'll lead into your interview," one woman answered. "Just follow the stage cues."

"Oh, man." Sam took a deep breath. "Should I go… out there, then?"

"Yes. It's this way," the man in the suit and shades spoke up. He led Sam through the throngs of people until finally she spotted Cat from far away.

"Cat!" Sam called to her, hurrying to catch up with her.

"Sam?" Cat turned around just as Sam was skidding to a stop in front of her.

Sam's jaw dropped. "Oh… wow." Cat was beautiful. She was always beautiful, but right now she was even more beautiful than ever. Her hair was styled up; her makeup done perfectly, and she wore a red, form-fitting dress with matching heels. Sam had seen her dressed this way, on TV and magazine covers, but never in person. The sight of her completely took her breath away. "Wow. You look… wow." She stood there gaping like an idiot.

Cat giggled and took both of Sam's hands. "That's a good thing, I hope?"

"Yes," Sam responded a little too quickly, then continued, "I mean… yeah. You look… nice."

Cat's eyebrows dipped. "Nice?"

Sam bit her lip. She looked around, then leaned in close to Cat's ear and whispered, "Well, I'd say fucking sexy, but I'm not sure that would be appropriate."

Cat turned her head to peck her lips, then gave her a small smile and looked at her with desire. "I think you're sexy too, Sam."

"Am I sexy?" Robbie asked jokingly as he wandered up next to them. The navy blue suit he wore made him look more beefy than he actually was.

"You look great, Robbie," Cat replied kindly. "I like that color of blue on you."

Sam leaned over and just barely peeked around the curtain. The audience was packed with rich and famous people. She quickly pulled back. "Fuck. That's a lot of people."

Cat took her hand. "Are you nervous?"

"No," Sam lied, glancing at Robbie. Then she sighed. "Yeah. Do we know what kinds of questions they're gonna ask?"

"We didn't really have time to go over that, actually," Cat admitted. "But I'm sure it'll be fine. I'll take over if you have trouble answering." She gave Sam's hand a reassuring squeeze. "It'll be okay."

"What if they bring up something really personal?" Sam worried.

"Just let me handle it. I've done lots and lots of interviews. It's usually pretty okay," Cat responded. "And Jimmy's a friend of mine. He's one of the least gossipy talk shows I've been on."

That made Sam feel a little better. "Okay," she exhaled, then repeated, more firmly, "Okay. I'm ready."

Just then, Jimmy Fallon himself walked up to them, grinning. "Catarina! Thank you so much for coming. That whole thing with Peezy-B was really last-minute. How have you been?"

"Oh, I'm alright," Cat replied. "You?"

"I'm great. I'm excited for our interview—your EP is absolutely genius," Jimmy gushed. "I'll save it for the show, but…" He turned to Robbie. "You must be Rob." He turned to Sam. "And Sam. It's nice to meet you guys. Well… re-meet you, Sam; but you know what I mean."

"Never expected to see me again twelve years later, huh?" Sam chuckled.

"Not at all, but you look great," Jimmy smiled. "I can definitely see why Catarina likes you so much."

Sam felt awkward and was unsure what to say. She was saved by a man rushing up to them with a PearPad in his hand. "We need Catarina on stage in sixty."

"Well, that's my cue," Cat took a deep breath. She pecked Sam on the lips. "I'll see you out there, okay?" Then she rushed away to where she would be performing her song. Jimmy trailed behind her.

"You ever done a talk show?" Sam asked Robbie, trying to keep herself distracted so the nerves wouldn't get the better of her.

"Nah. Screenwriters don't get much publicity," Robbie shrugged modestly. "It's fine. I actually prefer it that way. I've seen what Cat has to go through, and it can be pretty tough sometimes."

Just then, the sound of a catchy electronic beat started up, and they heard Cat begin singing. "Man, you can't even tell it's live," Sam remarked. Suddenly, she felt herself being pushed over to stand in front of the closed curtain. Robbie stood by her side. As the song went on, Sam got more and more nervous about what was about to happen. Before she knew it, the performance ended and the people in the audience started chatting.

"We've got 45 seconds," a man called.

"Commercial break," Robbie explained in response to Sam's confused look. "You ready?"

"No," Sam mumbled.

"And we're back! I'm here with Catarina Valentine…"