"Anna! Anna, where is she?" Paul rushed at the sobbing, hysterical girl. She was bawling on the shoulder of the cop who had grabbed her away from the door.

"She's still inside," she sobbed. "She saved me. She got me out."

"What do you mean?" Paul demanded, shaking her. Sandy pulled him off, in shock.

"Paul stop! You're not helping anything, least of all Lilia, by doing this. Lilia's still inside, Anna can't change that. You have to calm down," she tried to soothe him. The shrill ring of his cell phone save her from continuing any longer, which was a relief because she was about to break down herself.

"What the hell do you mean? Do you have any idea what's going on right now? Then find someone else. No matter what happens, I am not leaving. I don't care. Jordan, this is me not caring!" he exploded. Sandy grabbed the phone from Paul, as he stormed off in rage.

"Jordan?" she asked.

"Sandy, thank god. You have to talk some sense into him. You have an interview set up for noon tomorrow morning," Jordan informed her. Sandy could tell now why Paul was so upset.

"Cancel it."

"I can't. Someone has got to do it."

"Find someone else. Why not the god damned Backstreet Boys? After all, we're only the opening act, wouldn't they want the real thing?" she burst out, her patience dissipating.

"They have the day off. If you can convince them, then by all means. Call them and get back to me," was his stony response.

* * * *

"That was a very stupid thing to do," he yelled, the perfect image of complete rage.

"Could you keep it down, my head hurts," Lilia answered back, groaning as she sat up and touched her hand to her forehead, wincing in pain. She pulled her hand back and sighed as she observed that it was covered in blood.

"You don't realise…Shit! You…I can't believe that you…" he yelled brokenly, his rage clouding his ability to articulate.

"Believe it buddy. I told you she was leaving, no matter what. But thanks for not shooting me," she mumbled, trying to ignore her spinning head as she tried to stand up.

"Give me your phone. They have an hour and then you die," he declared. Her throbbing head clouded her sensibility.

"Get the phone yourself asshole. You know where it is," she retorted. She saw pure anger flash in his eyes, he came a her and gave her a reeling kick to the chest. She fell back, and gasped for air as she felt the heat of pain. She grabbed her side where he struck, and tried to calm herself down so she could breath. She had a feeling that he ribs were cracked or broken, so she controlled her breathing as much as possible. Calling on long forgotten breathing exercises that she had used when in Premiere before performing, she controlled her breathing and held back the wave of pain from completely overwhelming her. It took all of her discipline to keep from losing control.

"You heard me shit heads! One hour and she dies!" he yelled then slammed the phone down.

"Will you really kill me?" she gasped.

"I won't have to," he answered.

"They won't care. I know they won't!"

"You'd better pray they do!" he answered simply. Lilia felt all of her fly away, unreachable. He was dead serious.

* * * *

"Shit. Okay, so who tells Nick?" Brian asked. Three other faces stared at him expectantly.

"No, don't even assume that. Nuh-uh. Find yourself someone else. Draw straws or something," Brian said.

"How do you think he'll take this?" asked Howie.

"I have no idea. Just think of how would you take it if you were in his position right now," Brian said.

"Wow. I can't believe this. I hope she'll be okay. Shit, this is…like something out of a movie, only it's life," AJ commented.

"Perceptive, Bone. Okay, so we're drawing right? Loser tells him," Howie said.

They all picked and Kevin was the victim. He left the room reluctantly and returned a few minutes later, looking confused.

"What did he do?" they all pounced.

"He wasn't there," he answered.