Seventy-eight thousand listeners.

A small smile flitted onto Chloe Leighton's face. 128. She bit her lip to stop the grin threatening to take over her face as a box popped up on her laptop screen.

Chloe moved the cursor over the blue yes box and clicked. Her best friend, Josh, took over the screen. "Hey Josh." She released the grin. So what if it was too wide? Too cheery? Right now her heart felt lighter than air and she was absolutely, positively drunk on excitement. "What's up?"

The bright glow of Josh's laptop screen traced along his blond hair and soft jaw. It was after 10 p.m., but he hardly looked ready for bed.

He sat at the computer desk in his room, the blinds closed tight behind him. Vaguely, she saw the outline of his bed and the dark posters of his favorite Ace band, Mark My Lyrics, on his wall.

"Heard my little Chlo made the top 200. Congrats."

Heard? Her grin faded. "Who told you?"

"I got a notification on my Musetunes page."

Chloe released a breath. "Don't scare me like that."

Josh brushed his blonde hair out of his face and gave a crooked smile. "Relax. Your secret is still safe, Anonymous."

She nervously glanced over her shoulder toward the door. "Keep it down," she whisper-hissed, "what if your Mom heard?"

He rolled his eyes. "Paranoia is not a cute quality on you."

"Shut up."

"Does Danika know yet?"

Chloe snorted humorlessly. "Danika and I aren't like that. And if she did, she would tell my father and he would murder me in my sleep if he found out."

Josh furrowed his eyebrows and hesitated a moment before saying, "He's fine with Danika. I don't see why he shouldn't be proud of you."

She picked at her chipping nails and glanced over at the window. The moon was bright and full. A beautiful night indeed. "It's complicated. Besides, it's not about fame—I'm not Danika. It's about the music."

"Fine," he grumbled, crossing his arms over the gray t-shirt he wore.

"Hey," Chloe waited for him to look up to continue, "congratulations on 239. That's a great number."

Josh broke out into a boyish grin. "Thanks."

"Your Mom must be ecstatic."

"She's beyond excited. Wants to throw a party and everything."

"I better be invited."

Josh ran a hand over his face. His eyes drooped in that way they did when he was beyond exhausted. How many hours had he sat in his room in the dark today working on another song? "Your presence is mandatory. I can only handle my Aunt Krissy for so long before I'm ready to jump into a pit of acid."

She chuckled. "Well then, I'll make sure to be there so you don't have to do anything reckless."

"Cool."

"Chloe!" a voice yelled from downstairs. "CHLOE!"

Chloe swore under her breath. "Sorry, gotta go. The evil stepsister is beckoning. Text me?"

"Yeah, whatever. Give her a nice kick in the ass for me, will you?"

"Ha, sure thing."

"Bye, Chlo." Josh signed off.

"CHLOE!" the voice yelled again.

"I'm coming!"

She shut her laptop and headed downstairs. After a bit of wandering the rooms of their larger house, she found Danika in the den.

Chloe's household wasn't the most normal. It was built a few years ago when her sister's career boomed and her second album went platinum. Her father had it carefully and uniquely crafted to be as modern as possible. Millions of dollars put in along with a lot of sweat and hard work to make each room fit her father's architectural vision.

Impeccably kept dark wood bookshelves lined the west wall of the den. The windows covered the entire north wall that overlooked their in-ground pool in the backyard. The best part of the room, the part Chloe adored, was the large gray sofa bed inset in the floor.

Danika rested on the gray sofa bed, her arm raised only so she could scroll through options on the flat screen with the remote.

Chloe's feet slapped against the cold floor. "What?"

Her stepsister's focus never left the TV. "Did you record something over my Music Entertainment shows?"

She came all the way down here for this? "No."

"You had to have. My recording isn't here."

"That sucks."

Danika's long dark hair shimmered in the light as she turned around. "How am I supposed to keep up with the latest news if you always record over it?"

"I never record anything, Danika." Chloe curled her now freezing toes for warmth. "It's not like you need to know everything about everyone anyway. Those stupid gossip shows should be banned from TV."

"I need to know what's happening in the world."

"Then watch the news."

"I mean the important stuff."

Chloe flicked her eyes upward. Why Creator? "Don't you have a tour to be on?"

"Don't you have a social life? Oh, wait..." Danika turned back to her TV.

Chloe spun on her heel and marched towards the kitchen.

"Leave my recordings alone!" Danika called out as she left the room.

The kitchen was cold and empty. Chloe dragged her feet over to the fridge, tapping a beat against the metal door as she gazed inside. She wrinkled her nose at its contents. All-natural coconut butter, gluten-free bread, oranges, rejuvenating water. Where was a soda when you needed one?

She checked the pantry. Still nothing good. She wanted real food. She wanted sugar. Of course, none of that could be in the house when precious Danika was home. If she found the smallest bit of fatty food she'd throw a fit. Chloe didn't see how that was fair. She's not the one who decided to go on tour and be constantly in the spotlight. She didn't have to watch her figure.

Dejected, Chloe sat down at the table. The top of her Acemark peeked out from beneath the long sleeve of her shirt. She stared down at the birthmark.

An Acemark was a skin mark received at birth. While no two Aces shared the exact same mark, families were known to share similar elements and designs. When your mate was found, it supposedly glowed if they sang to you.

Each family had relatively the same mark, like a family crest. The main part of the mark was always the same, but the surrounding design was special and different for each individual.

Chloe's design began at the underside of her right wrist and spanned down four inches to her mid-forearm. In the center was a green-tinted star, and where the points intersected in the top left corner and the bottom right corner, slow curving lines flowed outward. They overlapped and crawled down her forearm and up toward her wrist like beautiful ivy.

She liked her Acemark. It was a nice, easy design. Not too glamorous and all over the place.

Not that it mattered much. Showing an Acemark before one found their mate was like bearing one's soul. Unless an Ace had the misfortune of having it on their face, no one but their mate or family saw it. Some families didn't even reveal theirs. Chloe'd never seen Danika's or her father's. She didn't remember much about her mom—not enough to remember seeing it—and her stepmom left, so that ruled her out too.

Chloe pulled her sleeve back down and went back to her room to start her homework.

***

Prince Ethan Alexander's foot tapped to the steady beat pumping through his headphones. His voice sounded smooth and easy, perfectly in tune with the music.

It was a nice song, snappy with pop undertones and a lot of bass. The only thing that could make it better would be to add another voice to the tune.

Only one voice could make it perfect.

His fingers drummed the table to the beat until they shook uncontrollably. He clasped his fingers tight in his lap to stop the tremors.

The music continued to blast through the headphones. And then all at once, he couldn't take it. He slammed a few buttons on the studio's master control board, yanked the ear set off, and raked a sweaty hand through his black hair.

If she was here right now... If she was here he'd not get these random out-of-control withdrawal attacks. What if he never saw her again? What if—?

The door to the control room clicked open. A dark-skinned individual waltzed in and stopped right in front of Ethan, but for the life of him, he couldn't get his gaze to focus.

"Whoa, you okay?" a familiar voice questioned.

Ethan muttered something incoherent.

"It's one of those things again?" Unable to do anything else, Ethan nodded.

The figure set something down on the table and grabbed at whatever was set down.

Ethan flinched as freezing cold water splashed him in the face. The liquid seeped through his sweater and the tank top he had underneath. He clutched a fist of the material and pulled it away from his body. "What the hell?"

His friend Jason grinned down at him. "Didn't think that would actually work."

"Did you have to do that?" he asked angrily.

"You yelled at me last time when I slapped you."

"Because it hurt!"

Jason rolled his eyes.

"Next time, how about a gentle shaking?"

Jason scrunched his eyebrows and rubbed his chin in mock concentration. "Gentle? What's that?"

"You're an ass," Ethan declared.

"A sexy ass."

"Whatever," Ethan grumbled. "Got any napkins to go with that water?"

His friend shrugged. "Forgot to ask. Sorry." He held up his pointer finger. "But I do have a warm cup of black coffee with your name on it."

Ethan stared at him flatly. "Thanks."

"No, it seriously has your name on it." Jason went to the table and pulled a to-go cup out of the cardboard holder. He squinted at the side and cleared his throat. "Prince Ethan Alexander," he said in a high squeaky voice, "call me—"

Ethan jerked the cup out of his hand, spilling a bit of hot coffee onto his finger which he lapped up. "Thanks," he said. "You're the best."

"I've heard that once or twice."

Ethan turned the control board on again, picked up the headphones, and placed them on his ears. The song blasted through the speakers, though he didn't hear any of the words. His mind was busy conjuring a set of lyrics to the next song he'd write.

The leather-covered notebook he always used sat at the edge of the table. He scrambled for the pen and then sat down to write. His hand struggled to keep up with his brain as it spit out the words.

Jason put on the other set of earbuds and snapped his fingers to the beat. "It's pretty good, Eth."

Ethan stared hard at the words he'd written down on the paper. Slow, emotional lyrics. They weren't his style. Too much feeling put behind them. He turned off the music. "It could be better."

"So could my relationship history." Jason still snapped his fingers even though the song was long gone.

"It needs another tone of voice."

"I could try a couple of bars if you want," he offered.

Ethan chuckled down at his paper. "I'd rather keep my listeners alive, thanks."

Jason gaped. "I'm all the way up to five!"

He shrugged. "That's by popularity, not talent."

"Just because you're number one here, doesn't mean—"

"What if she's still alive?" he whispered at his written words. He looked up at his best friend hopefully. "She has to be, right?"

The question sobered Jason. "I don't know," he said.

His fist clenched around the pen he held in his left hand. "She is. I know she is," Ethan said. "You don't have a connection like that without feeling if something happens."

For once, Jason stayed quiet.

"Maybe I'm not trying hard enough." Ethan stepped up and out of his chair, moving about the room.

"You already have the Guard watching out for anything."

Ethan rubbed his chin. "But that's all Jack's contribution."

"Because she's his sister," Jason stated as if it was supposed to be obvious.

Something itched at the back of his mind. His brain clicked ideas together. "We need something different." He stood in front of Jason and rested his hands on his shoulders. "We've been spending all our time looking at photos, staring at databases. What if we've been going about it all wrong? What if...what if we make her come to us?"

"Um," Jason said slowly, confused. "How do we do that?"