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Chapter Forty

"You've been a wonderful audience tonight, Tampa!" I screamed into the microphone. It seemed like a thousand hands waved back.

My hair was clinging to the back of my neck and beads of sweat rolled down my slender shoulders. I ran backstage to the deafening cheers. Mom had my last costume change ready.

There was only one song left.

"Are we having fun?" a very loud, very male voice screamed. The crowd cheered.

The guy was Lew Stevenston, head of Fundamental Records. He was obviously spearheading the plaque ceremony.

"Who's ready to see Brooke Carter again?" Lew asked. Another scream rose through the air. I took a deep breath.

"You okay sweetheart?" mom asked.

"I don't know what to say."

Mom smiled. "If you freeze, just sing it."

I laughed. I could just see me singing my thank you speech. It would be like I was on an episode of Sesame Street or something.

Dad gave me a squeeze and I headed back onstage. I waved out to the crowd. I tried my best not to directly look at Trevor. He was front row center.

I walked up to Lew. He was smiling and holding something under a big black cloth. I stood to his side, rocking on my heels. I felt like I was back in fifth grade and waiting for my next word in the Spelling Bee.

Except the audience was much bigger. Lew coughed and began speaking in that overly loud voice again.

"Brooke, on behalf of Fundamental Records, we want to just say how pleased we are to learn that your new single, Chaotic has gone to number one so fast. We learned three days ago that it is also currently the fastest-selling digital download in history. We would like to present to you and to the songwriter a plaque recognizing this amazing accomplishment."

I looked around. I had never met the songwriter. I just knew his name was Regan C. Oheneart.

Needless to say, I was beyond surprised when Noah walked out onstage. He didn't like to be front and center. He was happier in the back or at least behind a drum set. What the hell?

Before I could ask him what he was doing hogging my moment, Lew flipped off the black cloth. He was holding two shiny gold plaques underneath.

"Brooke, we're excited to be a part of your music career. Your second CD is even better than the first, and that's saying a lot."

I shook his hand and took the plaque. I glanced back at Noah. He was giving me one of those annoying brotherly grins again.

"And Noah, we look forward to recording more of your amazing songs with other artists on our label. It is an amazing feat for a writer's first sold song to become a hit. Congratulations."

Noah shook Lew's hand and took his plaque.

"Wait. What?" I said. My voice rang out throughout the whole venue.

"Surprise," Noah said quietly.

My mouth flapped like a fish. "You wrote Chaotic?"

He laughed and nodded.

"Then who's Regan C. Oheneart?"

"That's an anagram of Noah Gene Carter," he said proudly.

What I did next will probably go down in the history books under 'stupid things artists do in front of an audience.'

I took my plaque and started hitting him in the arm.

"OW! STOP! WAIT!"

"You are a dirty sneak!" I yelled. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted--oomph! it to be --hey! a surprise!"

Dad ended up coming onstage and stopping me from beating Noah to a pulp with my brand new shiny plaque. Lew was looking at me like I had lost my mind. I spit a huge hunk of hair out of my mouth. Noah waved to the crowd and ran backstage. Dad took Lew's microphone.

"Who's ready to hear this number one song?" dad yelled.

The screams replaced the laughter that was floating through the crowd.

Dad took my plaque and he followed Lew off the stage. My band started to play the intro to Chaotic. I quickly tried to pull myself together.

Even though I was totally distracted, I managed to keep the crowd on its feet. As I ran off, I heard my name shouted loudly.

"That was awesome," Peyton said the moment I walked backstage. "I want to beat up Noah."

Dad looked like he was trying not to laugh. I put my hands on my hips.

"Did you know?" I asked.

"Not until about forty five minutes ago," dad said with a chuckle. He saw me face. "I promise. Your mom was holding out on us."

I looked around. "Where is that booger? I swear--"

"Great show. Is it always so entertaining?"

I whirled around. Trevor was standing behind me smiling.

I had completely forgotten that he had witnessed the whole event.

"Oh," I said. My face flamed.

"She doesn't usually beat anyone up," Peyton said. Dad wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Let's go this way Pey," he said.

"But---!"

He led her away whistling. Trevor and I were, for the most part, alone.

"I'm not usually so violent," I said awkwardly.

"Remind me not to mess with you," Trevor said with a grin.

"My sister's the one that's the black belt," I said.

Trevor ran a hand through his hair. It floated back down perfectly in place. I had never noticed how lopsided his grin was. It made him look mischievious and hot at the same time.

"I was wondering if I could give you a congratulatory kiss," he said lightly. "But I don't want to get hit or anything."

I totally wished I could stop blushing, but if anything it got worse.

"I won't hit you," I promised.

He stepped closer to me. I started to freak out a little. Not because of him, but because I had just gotten off stage after almost two hours. I was sweating everyplace a girl shouldn't sweat. I was pretty sure my upper lip was soggy and--

I closed my eyes. In the time it took me to worry about all that, he kissed me. It wasn't one of those macho 'how do you like me now?' kisses like Garrett had pulled all too often. It was just a sweet 'first kiss' type of kiss.

Sweat and all.

After another few seconds he pulled away. We looked at each other and smiled.

"I should...go take a shower," I said. I kicked my leg up nervously.

"I need to get home," Trevor said reluctantly.

"So soon?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. He looked down. When he looked back up he was smiling again.

"But I'll see you in a few weeks, right?"

I smiled. "Absolutely. I'll call you once I know all about the flight and stuff," I promised. He nodded.

"Excellent. Well...good night."

He gave me another quick kiss. Before I could say anything else he turned and ran down the stairs. I lifted my hand.

"Good night," I whispered.

"Good night, sweet prince."

I whirled around. Noah was peeking around the corner.

"YOU!" I screamed.

He took off and I raced after him.

He was going to be sorry when I caught up with him. First, I would thank him for writing an awesome song. Secondly, I was going to hit him again for not telling me sooner. And last, I was going to kill him for ruining my nice moment with Trevor.

Noah Gene Carter was going to be lucky if he lived long enough to write a second hit.

And if he did, it sure as hell better be another hit for me.