Sorry guys for being absent for so so soooo long. :( I'm going to create a schedule I will try my absolute best to stick to for all my stories so that I will finally be able to finish more than two books. Thank you all for your patience with me.

Love,

hiccstrid_lover_98

You know how when you imagine something in your mind and you constantly have to remind yourself that life never works out in your favor, especially with stuff like record deals and actually having  really great friends for once in your life? Besides Ruff, of course. That's what walking into Great Hall Records was like. I kept having to force my arms to my sides to stop from pinching the inside of my elbow as I followed behind the rest of the band. I just couldn't find it in me to accept that this was real life, and neither could Merida.

"This has to be a dream," she says gripping on to Hiccup's arm.

"Believe it, girl!" Punzie squeals, shoving herself between the two of them.

"Why can't you guys get it through your heads that we are awesome?" Jack says, shaking Hiccup's shoulder. Hiccup's basically become the entire bands hero since the party where Mr. Summers agreed to sign us. That's the price you pay for being the front man.

I twist my braid around my finger, glancing around the white walls full of records and signed guitars and drum sticks and micro phones in glass cases. And if I close my eyes hard enough, I can picture my slick, black guitar hung on a metal post, my signature in silver sharpie held on that wall for eternity.

We take a seat on red velvet love seats, a table full of music magazines fanned out in front of us. Jack instantly picks up the one with the girl wearing a mohawk with drum sticks. I roll my eyes. Men.

"Um, excuse me, but this isn't a daycare," a woman calls out, leaning over the front desk. She has tattoos that curve around her neck and dip behind her ears.

"We have an appointment with Mr. Summers," Hiccup pipes up for us.

"Name," she says, bored.

"Haddock, ma'am."

She looks at a clipboard in front of her, and still not believing that a bunch of seventeen-year-olds are actually supposed to be here, she buzzes Mr. Summers directly. "There's some kids here for you, Mitchell." His response is muffled from this proximity, but the man himself appears in the hallway in less than thirty seconds.

"Come on back, guys. I wanna get this started. We have so much to talk about in so little time." We scramble to our feet, tripping over ourselves to follow after him.

"First off, your performance last week... killer. I already  have people calling asking where they can buy albums and when the next concert is. So, in order to keep up with the masses, we need to get you guys in the recording studio pronto. Everyday after school would be preferable. This is a job you are taking on. Not a hobby anymore. This will either kill you or make you the next big obsession. Got it?"

We nod in fear and excitement not truly knowing how else to respond to him laying it all out there like that. I lock eyes with Jack who has nervously stuffed his hands inside his blue sweatshirt. He bumps my shoulder reassuringly, even though I see right through him.

"Now, let me introduce you to my brand, spanking, new  sound booth guys. Figure you guys can grow in this business together since they will be traveling every where with you all." Mr. Summers whistles, leaning through the doorway of a sound booth.

"Mr. Summers, as much as we appreciate you doing this for us, I don't feel like we need anymore people in the band. We already have five, and Jack and I handle all of our sound stuff on our own. We know what sound we like and how our equipment works."

"Mr. Haddock. I'm all for listening to you kids, but I know what's best, and I don't need you questioning my ethics. I know how to make a band big. Am I wrong?"

"No, sir," Hiccup says, his face twisting in slight annoyance, being used to having all the say. I avoid Mr. Summers' gaze as he looks back at all of us.

I hear voices make their way out of the sound booth, as two teens our age step out of the room, bickering in hushed voices between the two of them, and my heart stops. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Ruff and Tuff Thorston," Mr. Summers says, and my mouth pops open.

"H! Long time no see, dude!" Tuff shouts, slinging his arms around Hiccup the instant he sees him. I scrunch up my brow in confusion. "Didn't know we would be working with my old neighbor H cubed. Haven't seen you since last summer when you visited your cousin."

"How is Snotlout?" Hiccup asks.

"Whoa whoa whoa, wait," I interrupt, pushing my way to the front. "Your cousin is Snotlout? Snotlout Jorgenson."

"Astrid!" Ruff shouts pulling me into a bone crushing hug. "You haven't called me in like a week. Best friends call each other."

I pat her on the back, wishing I could burst into tears right now in the hallway because I've missed her so freaking much it hurts, but know that's  probably ill advised.

"I'm sorry. I've been busy. What are you guys doing here?" I pull away, gripping her by the shoulders looking back and forth between both of them. "You know Hiccup?"

Ruff stares back at me like I've lost my mind. "Astrid. You knew that. Remember Snotlout's geeky, little cousin? How many Hiccup's do you think there are in the world? Him and Snotlout used to follow you around when we were five, because they both had major crushes on you." I glance at Hiccup, heat spreading over his face as it morphs into a crimson shade of red. "It used to drive you nuts, and you would climb into my tree house with me to hide from them because no boys besides Tuff were allowed."

I open my mouth to respond, but Mr. Summers ushers us into his office. "Well, I'm glad to hear you know each other. Now I don't have to worry about the chemistry between all of you." He sits down behind his desk, folding his hands,  taking a once over of the teens filling up his space. "So, every day at four is what I'm thinking. Work till closing at eight. We need to get all of your prewritten songs down and out of the way. I want those on the first album that we send out in two weeks for the fans you already have. Going to make it cheap. It doesn't matter. Just a jump start. We are basically scrapping all your previous stuff. Then, I need a brand new single ready to go so we can put together your new album. All new stuff.  We need it to really sell."

I nod along with the others, taking in all the work we are going to have to get done in such a short amount of time. Forget tests and school. This is an all new level of stress I don't know if I can handle it. And, I feel like my brain stalls as Mr. Summers continues unable to really comprehend what he's saying, worrying more on what in the world we got ourselves in to. 

***

"This is too much to take in. Before it was just an idea. A fantasy. Now.... Now it feels like we are plunging head first into a raging ocean with weights around our ankles." I flop down on to the couch in Hiccup's garage. 

We ended practice an hour ago, trying to come up with ideas for the new awesome single that's supposed to explode all over the music charts and break us into this business. I'm honestly surprised Mr. Summers didn't give us any guidelines or don'ts on the new song.  Jack thinks it needs to be an uplifting song about dreams and overcoming the odds, and that Hiccup needs to sing it. Which meant Hiccup thought I needed to sing it, but we all disagreed. He's the star. He calls the shots. Except on this one thing. 

"It'll be great. You'll see." He smiles reassuringly at me, sitting down. 

"You're just saying that, but I'm going to hold you to your word." He laughs, slouching into the couch back. I rest my head on his shoulder, sighing. "So, I guess we know each other?" 

He freezes, before chuckling nervously. "We are back to that huh?"

"Why didn't you tell me? You know, when we met? Like, 'hey remember me? We were friends when we were super little. I know I look completely different now since it's been eight years or so'."

"I don't know. You thought I was annoying and nerdy when we were younger. I wanted to start over with you. I'm a different person now."

"Not really, now that I know who you truly are." 

He scowls at me, irritated. "I'm surprised you didn't figure it out. I thought my last name would have sparked something." 

"We were little. I didn't have last names memorized," I argue feeling stupid. His face relaxes again, back at ease, and I feel my embarrassment subside. "I'm glad I have you back though. We weren't very close back then, but I'm happy we are now." 

He glances down at me, brushing my bangs out of my eyes, and I reach up to press my lips to his, his skin warm, my stomach constricting and heart bursting, a song forming in the back of my mind, realizing how nice it is to truly be this close to someone. 

Recording studio, here I come. The world will never know what hit them.