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Editor Note: The images used for this story were purchased and used under royalty-free license* from Istockphoto.com . ~Sephrena
Author Note: Please email me at AngelJediGirl (at) gmail (dot) com before posting this story to any other site. Posting to a pay site is prohibited.

Comments and suggestions are also welcome at the above email address.

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Chapter 28 - Shh! It's a Secret!

The first thing that I did after getting home from my appointment with Mary was to go over to Emily's house. I had about an hour before I had to be at the studio, and I wasn't going to go without talking to her.

I rang her doorbell, and after a moment the door opened. Emily was standing there.

"Oh, it's you," she said solemnly. "Don't you have to be at the studio, or something?"

"Yes," I unhappily answered. "But I don't want to go if it means our friendship suffers!"

She stood there, looking at me for a few seconds, thinking over what I had said. Without another word she opened the door all the way and stepped aside to let me in. I stepped inside and she closed the door before motioning toward the sitting room. I was a bit surprised to see Ethan sitting there, but it certainly made talking to them easier since I wouldn't have to find him later.

I walked into the room and took a seat on the couch. Emily's family kept a TV in the room, and it looked like they had been watching something. Ethan looked up at my entrance and gave me a sour look. How had I let this rift in our friendship get so wide? I never should have listened to my dad!

"Look," I said after Emily had taken a seat and both of them looked at me. It was obvious that I was the one who needed to do the explaining. "I'm sorry about not letting you guys be involved in my music. I wouldn't even have a career without you two."

I heard Ethan sigh, and Emily looked upset. Obviously they seemed to be regretting their decision to take me to the party at the Crawford's.

"I can't do this without you guys," I told them. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I tried my best to keep them from spilling out. But it was a losing battle. "I don't want to do this without you!"

"It's one thing to say that," Emily stated angrily. "But it's another thing to do something about it!"

"I know," I replied. "I talked to my dad last night. I told him that I wasn't going to sing if you guys weren't involved! Your friendship means more to me than singing!"

"What did he say?" Ethan asked. They both looked intrigued, but wary. It was obvious that they didn't want to lose this friendship either, but something had to change.

"He said some really stupid things," I told them. "He's been thinking about this as my agent, and not as my dad. When I pointed that out, he seemed to back down."

"Does that mean we can come with you to the studio today?" Emily asked with a hint of excitement. Why, oh why, did she have to ask that right then?

"No," I said forlornly. They both scowled and the tension in the room increased. I knew it was the last thing they wanted to hear. "I had to compromise with him. He agreed that you guys can be involved, but not until after next Saturday."

They seemed slightly happier at that announcement, but it was obvious that they didn't want to wait, either.

"Why next Saturday?" Emily asked warily. It sounded like I was offering a peace branch, but the branch might already be halfway in the wood chipper.

I sighed. "This is a big week for me. It's a week that you two should be involved in. But I promised him that I wouldn't tell you guys. I so badly want to, but I can't."

"Then why should we believe you?" Emily asked unhappily. This wasn't going well.

"Because we've been friends for so long," I told her. "You guys mean everything to me. My dad's reasons are stupid, but I have to honor them if I want to do this. I promise that after next week, there will be no more secrets, no more leaving you behind. But I can't do anything about it until then. I'm sorry."

The tears were flowing down my cheeks now. I didn't know what else I could do to convince them of my sincerity.

"Okay," Emily finally said. "I believe you. But you should have let us in earlier. We miss you, Megan. We hardly ever see you anymore."

"I know!" I cried. "I should have questioned my dad's reasons earlier! I should have realized that he wasn't thinking about this as my dad! If I'd done that, we might not be in this position! I'm really sorry!"

Emily leaned over and gave me a hug. I knew then that our friendship was safe. No matter what happened, we would get through this.

"Are you doing anything tonight?" Ethan interrupted our bonding moment. I knew that he was a part of this friendship too, but it was different between Emily and me. We'd known each other longer. Also, I couldn't give him a hug to make it better, not anymore.

"No," I answered. "I'm supposed to be in the studio until 5 or 6, but I'm free after that."

"Good," he said. "We're going to go out tonight. We need to reconnect this friendship, and tonight is a perfect opportunity."

I nodded. I couldn't agree more.

*  *  *

"Sarah Carerra, meet Peter Rheinholdt," Scott said. We'd just arrived at the studio to find a tall, skinny man in his early fifties waiting for us.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Carerra," Peter told me before taking my hand and kissing the back of my palm.

I blushed. Nobody had ever done this to me before, let alone someone older than my father. I wasn't sure if hiring Peter to produce my album was a good thing or a bad thing based on his actions.

Peter did seem to sense my discomfort, and let go of my hand with a quirky smile. The only positive was that it looked less lecherous than I would have suspected if he really meant something by that kiss.

"Peter is an accomplished producer, and he'll do good things for the album," Scott continued.

Dad was excited to have Peter on board when he had heard the name of the producer Scott was hoping to have us work with. I really didn't know the first thing about producing an album, so I was following his lead.

"I've got some good ideas for your music," Peter said. "There are a couple of things that I would like to change on the songs you've already recorded, but we will wait until after the concert to do anything more on them. We've also got a seventh song for you, a cover that we'd like you to sing at the concert instead of one of the others. We'll probably drop 'Open Your Eyes'. Today, I'd like to lay down the vocals for the one remaining song and the cover. That sound okay with you?"

I nodded my head before replying, "Okay."

"Good," he said. "I've heard that you're really easy to work with, and I'm looking forward to producing another great album."

If that didn't sound slightly self-promoting, I didn't know what would.

"Here, take a look at these songs for a bit," he said while handing me some papers. "I want to bounce some ideas off your agent."

"Okay," I said while taking the papers from him. What kind of ideas? If it was related to the music I would be singing, shouldn't I be involved? I glanced briefly at the sheets, but I stood there hoping to hear some of what he wanted to talk to Dad about.

Peter looked at me expectantly for a moment before he realized that I wasn't leaving. "Run along," he finally said and gave me a shooing gesture. That just made me start to dislike him. It seemed like his idea of “easy to work with” meant "easy to order around." He'd be in for a surprise if he tried that.

I took my papers and moved over to the couch that was in the control room. I hoped it was still close enough to hear what they were saying, but far enough that he felt willing to speak. Unfortunately, I seemed to be slightly too far away as he started whispering with my dad. I couldn't hear anything they were saying.

Giving up for the moment, I turned toward the songs.

The first song was entitled ‘I Just Wanna Have Fun'. It was a fast moving, pop-sounding number that looked like it would be fun to sing. The lyrics talked about all the pressures that were placed on young girls, and how as a young woman I wanted to throw those pressures away and enjoy my teenage years my own way. I really liked the song, and the chords that I could hear in my head, if correct, led me to believe that it would sound really good too.

The second song was the cover. It was entitled ‘Rock Star'. It was literally a Hannah Montana song. The song was about a girl who is trying to get a guy to notice her, but she can't really mention to him that she is a secret Rock Star. It was one of the many Hannah Montana songs that spoke of a dual identity, but it did seem to fit well into my current situation too. The last few words of "I am a Rock Star" certainly spoke of a new truth in my life.

I was worried about doing a cover of a song from someone whom I was competing against in my target market. I figured that the record studio knew what they were doing, but it did seem somewhat odd to me.

I was about to pull out my guitar and play through the songs to give me a tune to practice against when I realized that Peter and my dad were arguing. It started as a low rumble, but quickly grew until they were yelling at each other.

"I think that is a really bad idea, Peter," Dad yelled. "It's her music, not yours."

"That isn't the point, Don," Peter yelled back. "I've been in this industry a long time, I know what sells. If we just change the message and sound slightly, I think we can pull in a whole new range of fans."

"I don't care," Dad yelled back. "That is not the type of fans that we are trying to appeal to."

Scott opened his mouth to say something, and it looked like he was going to agree with my dad. But before he got the chance, Peter was yelling back.

"More fans mean more sales!" he yelled. "We can all make a hefty profit off this! I believe that we can get her first album to go double platinum!"

"I believe we can too," my dad yelled back. "WITHOUT the changes! You underestimate this fan base."

They stared at each other for a moment. I didn't know what they were fighting about, but it didn't sound like something I would like. I stood up and approached them.

"What's going on?" I asked. My dad sighed, and turned toward me to give me an answer. Before he got the chance, Peter spoke up.

"Nothing you need to worry about, sweetie," he said in a dismissive tone. "The professionals are talking about a few things. Go back to the music."

"Excuse me?" I asked in a raised voice. "This is MY music we're talking about, and I think I have a say in it! Don't you?!"

The look on Peter's face showed me that he disagreed.

"I know you're new to this industry, Sarah," he said patronizingly. "But you need to learn that you aren't in charge of the music. You sing the songs we give you, and we all make money. It's that simple."

I was stunned at his statement! Did he really believe that? I may be new to this industry, but even I knew that I got a say in what I sang.

I turned to my dad and asked, "What does he want to change?"

My dad sighed again, indicating that it was something I wasn't going to want to hear.

"Peter thinks that we can tap into the hard rock crowd if we change the sound of ‘Ever After' a bit," he said. "He thinks we can make it harder sounding and change the message slightly to fit both your current fan base and this new crowd."

"What?!" I screamed incredulously. "No way! That would ruin the song!"

Peter looked at me like I just didn't understand. "It won't ruin the song," he said. "It will open it up to a whole new market."

"It's a nice, peaceful, up-tempo, fairy tale love song!" I yelled at him. "Think Disney, that's what I did. Making it 'hard' WILL ruin it!"

"It's not Disney!" Peter yelled back. "Fairy tales do not have to be Disney! I bet the author didn't have anything like that in mind. They'd probably be happy to have the song appeal to a broader fan base!"

"I wrote the song!" I screamed at him.

That got through to him. He took a slight step backward, and his face changed. It seemed likely that he realized he had just taken his argument a step too far. Changing other people's songs was one thing, but suggesting to an artist that she needed to change her own song was a different situation altogether. The grimace on his face proved that he realized he wasn't going to win this argument easily.

"Then you must see how advantageous it would be to modify it," he finally said, a bit more softly. "Think of the money it could make."

"This isn't about the money!" I yelled at him. "The song has a meaning! I won't change it to make more money!"

Peter immediately turned from me to Scott. "I can't work with her, Scott. She's unreasonable."

When Scott didn't immediately jump to Peter's defense, Peter just shook his head slightly and walked out of the control room. The rest of us stood there, stunned at his reaction.

"Is he for real?" Dad asked Scott.

Scott opened his mouth, but appeared to have no idea what to say. I don't think I'd ever seen him at a loss for words before.

"I..." He finally got out. "I don't know. I heard that he could be a little controlling, but that...I don't know."

The three of us stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Eventually, Scott realized that we were wasting precious studio time.

"Come on, Sarah," he said. "Let's get to work on those songs. If we can get these two tracks laid down, I think you'll know them well enough for next Saturday."

I couldn't agree more.

*  *  *

A few hours later Scott was playing back my latest attempt at ‘Rock Star'. I thought it sounded great. Once again Scott was able to talk me through what he wanted out of the music, and worked with me to get it right.

"It sounds amazing, like always," I told him. "Are you sure that I need a producer? You seem to be doing a good enough job to me."

The smile on Scott's face told me just how much he enjoyed doing this. "I don't know, Sarah, it isn't my job."

"But you want it to be," I said frankly, causing him to laugh.

"Maybe," he said. "But it isn't what they pay me for. I was only filling in because of the tight deadline."

"You could always do it just this once," I told him sweetly. He looked at me, and then started laughing.

"Sorry, Sarah," he said. "I've got a young girl of my own. I'm immune to that puppy dog look."

I continued looking at him, and eventually his expression changed.

"Alright, alright," he said with a soft chuckle. "I give up. I really do enjoy being in the studio. It's been a few years since I worked on an album like this. It'll be a fun experience."

"That's the spirit," I said with a smile of my own.

"Sarah Carerra," Scott said. "You're making this type of work fun again."

I laughed before moving the conversation to another topic I wanted to discuss.

"What's the schedule for next week?" I asked Scott and my dad. I knew it was going to be a crazy week, but it would be nice to be able to plan for it.

"Let's see," Scott said and reached for a folder containing some papers. He leafed through them for a moment before finding what he was looking for. "You have Monday and Tuesday off because of finals. On Wednesday afternoon you have an appointment with a choreographer we hope to use in the future. She'll help teach you what to do for the concert. We don't have time for any complex choreography on this one."

Choreography - I hadn't even thought about what I would be doing while on stage! Singing, obviously, but I'd been to more than one concert. I should have remembered it wasn't that simple. As if I wasn't scared enough to get on that stage, now I had even more to contend with.

"On Thursday," Scott continued, oblivious to the small panic he had caused me. "You'll meet with the band. We're going to use the band that laid down the instrument tracks for your songs for the concert. They're a good session band, and I hope that they can translate their work into a live show. We'll need to start looking for a band that you can work with if they don't work out on stage. Anyway, Thursday and Friday will be filled with practicing your songs with the band. Two days isn't a whole lot of time to develop the kind of relationship we'd hope to have on stage, but we're working with what we've got. At least you all know the songs, so we aren't starting from scratch."

"You also have an appointment with Julia on Friday morning," Dad informed me. "She has some ideas for what you should wear, and we'll pick something out."

"What about Saturday?" I asked. I knew we were flying out Saturday morning and coming back on Sunday, but I didn't know any details. Scott looked at my dad to answer that one. Dad opened the day planner that he always carried around and flipped through a few pages.

"The flight is at 12:30," Dad said. "We'll probably need to be at the airport by 11:00 at the latest."

"Does that mean that I have time to meet with Mary that morning?" I asked hopefully. Dad nodded before continuing.

"We lose an hour in the air," he informed me. "It'll be around 2:30 when we land. We'll be heading straight to the venue for a sound check. After that is completed we'll have most of the afternoon to check into the hotel and relax for a bit before the show, which starts at 7:30."

I laughed. Relax. Right. I was pretty sure that next Saturday was going to be the most stressful day of my life. Relaxing would not be on my schedule.

"Oh," Dad continued in a sly tone. "Did I mention that we'll be traveling with Josh Holliday?"

*  *  *

It had been a long day. Between the session with Mary in the morning, and the drama caused by Peter, followed by hard work in the studio, I was ready to climb into bed. But I only had about an hour before I was supposed to meet Emily and Ethan before going out somewhere.

This was one of the few times that I was glad I wasn't driving myself. I was able to lay my head back and rest for a bit while Dad drove us home. I had a slight scare when we passed Emily's house and I noticed that she was sitting on her porch. I had to duck down in the car to make sure she didn't see me, and stay there until Dad pulled into our garage. Life would be so much easier when she learned the truth!

We walked in the back door and I gave my mom a hug before heading to Sarah's room to change. Perhaps I'd have enough time to lie down for a bit before heading over to Emily's.

I typed in the code for the Armoire and opened it up. I reached up to take off the wig, before remembering that Mom had taken the time to pin it earlier that morning. I really felt too tired to find all the pins.

Stepping back out of Sarah's room, I headed for the front room, where I could hear my mom's voice.

"Mom?" I said as I entered. "Can you help me get this wig off?"

Mom's voice stopped speaking. Somebody gasped. Dad, who had been sitting in one of the soft chairs, bolted to his feet. His face looked frantic, and he glanced toward the front door.

A sudden burst of fear broke through my heart, and my gaze followed his. Mom had been talking to someone at the front door! I hadn't even heard the doorbell ring!

"Megan?" I heard someone ask. The voice sounded very familiar.

I'm sure the shock on Emily's face matched my own as she spoke again.

"You're Sarah Carerra!"

*  *  *