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Chapter Forty-Nine
Point of View: Kayla

I took a cab to the rehearsal and got there a little early. Leon wasn't there yet, I had a feeling he was still pissed from last time, which was fine with me, it would only make it that much easier to break up with him if he was mad at me. I dropped my stuff in the front row, as usual, and climbed on stage to stand with some of the other girls. They were in a frenzy as I approached them, talking away animatedly.

"Hey guys," I said, "What's up?"

"Did you hear?" one of them, a girl named Jessica, asked pointedly, "About Krystal Armaletto?"

I nodded, "Yeah, I heard." The mention of the name made my head spin away from the conversation, thinking of Nick. I frowned, wondering how he was, if he was okay, if someone was there with him, making sure he didn't relapse...

"What an asshole, huh?" said another girl, Lauren, who was looking at herself in a compact mirror as she dabbed her nose with powder. "I couldn't believe it at first, but I mean he did just get out of rehab, and I never would've believed that at one time, either."

I bitterly wished that hadn't spaced for a second. "What?" I asked, feeling dumb.

Lauren closed the compact. "That Nick Carter - you know, the Backstreet Boy guy?" she asked.

I felt my cheeks flush at the mention of him, "What about him?" I demanded.

Lauren glanced at Claudia - another of the girls. "I just said -- there's rumors flying like crazy, Kayla. They're saying he killed her."

My heart nearly stopped and I felt clammy, "What?" I scoffed, shaking my head, "That's impossible."

Lauren shrugged, "That's what they're saying," she said. The other two girls nodded solemnly. "I mean the evidence is all there," Lauren continued after a brief pause. "He was the last one to have seen her, and he reported her to the police like the next morning, saying she trashed his house to oblivion during a quarrel. He didn't tell them she was driving drunk."

"Maybe she got drunk after she left his house," I replied, my voice sharp and defensive.

Lauren laughed, "What the hell?" she asked, "Why do you care? It's gossip, you usually get into this stuff."

"I just don't think it's right to accuse someone of murdering someone else unless you have real evidence," I replied. I rolled my eyes, "I mean you don't even know him."

"And you do?" demanded Lauren with a laugh.

"Yes, actually," I responded coldly, "I do."

At that moment, Leon and the director both walked through the door and I took their arrival as my excuse to jump out of the conversation, my muscles tensed, and head swimming.