It had not dawned on George that it was Christmas Eve. Nor was there any part of her brain aware of the fact that it was her twenty-third birthday. Sure, at some point during the day, a half-second there, a milli-second somewhere else, she was sure to have remembered that it was December 24th and she was, in fact, turning twenty-three. But standing at the edge of her mother's lawn, her back to the cityscape below, her eyes staring unseeing out onto a mingling crowd of party-goers, all of them seemingly enjoying Vivian Burns' legendary annual Christmas party, George had no idea about the date nor the double significance of it. Her brain didn't have room to worry about such trivial things such as major holidays and birthdays.

If George had been able to look at the evening rationally, to recount the event that was the current cause of her mental haze and confusion, to look back over the year and see what had transpired, what pieces had fallen into place to end her up at her mother's party, standing on the edges of society, looking in, she still wouldn't have been able to see coming what did.

It had been a big year for George. The biggest maybe ever. And Concept was planning on celebrating that fact. Last year, at the annual Concept holiday party, George had won Rookie of the Year. She wasn't there to accept it so Julien had accepted it for her. This year, she won Producer of the Year! A big deal and on Concept's fifteenth anniversary.

Looking back over the year, looking back at what she had accomplished for the company, George was ready to walk up onto that little stage set up in the Concept Headquarters's lobby and accept that gold plaque that meant nothing outside of that building. She was ready to take her spot in front of the microphone and look out onto the sea of faces she had come to know over the last year and a half, the secretaries, the assistants, the board members, the sound engineers, the legal staff, the accounting department, the people that made up her peers, her colleagues, her coworkers. Even with an unusual bout of stage fright lurking in the shadows of George's mind, even with the bank of reporters and photographers in attendance to chronicle Concept's big anniversary event, George was ready to take the spotlight.

But George never got the chance.

Concept owed a lot to George that year. If all she had done was produce Felix's album two years ago, they still would have owed her a great debt of gratitude. Felix was on a rocket ship that seemed to only go up. He was Concept's top-selling new artist and his tour had sold out in a matter of days, unheard of for someone so new to the industry. He was big in the States, he was even bigger overseas and his album had gained him, and Concept, major accolades. Concept had George to thank for the album.

But that wasn't all George had done for the company. Other than taking every job Concept handed her, especially the ones the other freelance producers didn't want, (touring with a trio of brothers who were in the midst of major infighting and on the verge of breaking up didn't sound very appealing, even to George) George also signed them one of Concept's newest stars. She had stumbled across Rosie Mulligan in a small pub back in New York during her one week off while out to dinner with Sydney. George was the only one paying attention as Rosie sang out from a small, make-shift stage, her only instruments her voice and a guitar that seemed like it was a part of her. George sent her music to Julien and Rosie was signed the following month, hitting the top of the charts by the end of the year with her debut album.

George was fully aware of the decisions Concept made that she wasn't 100% behind. She might have been signed to them, unlike their other producers, but George saw herself more as a freelance consultant than a permanent part of the staff at Concept. It helped when decisions like passing Rosie on to one of their older, more experienced producers were made. The fact that George was the one to discover Rosie went completely overlooked.

This was where having Julien in her corner helped George out big time. It evened the playing field (in her mind at least). When she was at a disadvantage because of something as trivial as her age or gender, Julien did his best to fill in the gap. He got her two weeks with Rosie at Anton's studio in Brooklyn. George and Rosie wasted no time those two weeks, working as hard and as long as they physically could. Out of the ten songs they wrote during that time, eight of them made it onto Rosie's debut album, making up more than half of the final tracklist.

What George would have considered her first big break happened that year, as well. Again, to the benefit of Concept Records. For the first time that year, someone on Concept's roster sought George out, asking specifically for George Briggs to produce their next album. The person? Concept's heaviest hitter, the pop diva herself, Clara Kemp.

George was nervous beyond belief when Sydney slowed the car to a stop in front of the big black gates that bordered Clara's Nashville estate. George and Clara had never meant, Clara didn't know George was young or female. Or maybe she did and that was why she had sought George out to produce her first record since becoming a mom. There were too many unknowns. Clara brushed all of them aside when she opened the front door and stood with arms wide open, a wide smile on her face ready to greet George. Her words of welcome threw George for a loop and she knew, from that moment on, she had a friend in Clara Kemp.

"You're a girl!" she said. "Thank goodness."

Clara Kemp's big return had done big numbers for the company. With three heavy hitters in just one year, no one else who worked for the company was in the running for the Producer of the Year recognition plaque as far as George knew. And so she stood, with Rosie on one side of her, Jayden on the other, the three of them laughing, cracking jokes, enjoying the company Christmas party just like everyone else around them, in the lobby of Concept Records. She was ready to be recognized for her hard work.

The crowd cheered as CEO Lionel Richardson took the stage, a microphone set up in front of the jazz band that had been brought in for the evening. The sound of feedback as Lionel stepped too close to the microphone still rang in George's ear, even as she stood on the other side of town, on her mother's lawn, at a different Christmas party, two hours later. That sound haunted her.

The crowd cheered as Lionel got ready to speak and George did, too. She was nervous. She knew she was going to have to go up on stage at some point. She was going to have to stand in front of people, friends, colleagues, strangers, reporters, and photographers. The thought made her want to throw up but she stood straight and kept her eyes focused, not letting what she was feeling on the inside be seen on the outside.

Vivian had stepped up in the wardrobe department for the event. She had a rack of velvet suits and silk blouses waiting for George when she woke up that morning, along with two hair and makeup stylists. She was there to make sure George looked the part of Producer of the Year. George's deep maroon velvet suit was a far cry from her usual uniform of band tee-shirts and jeans.

Lionel made some speech, something about the legacy of the company, the vision he'd had when he had first set out to create Concept Records, the concept he'd had (that one got a hollow laugh from the crowd and yet George found herself laughing along with them, he was the boss after all). The awards came next. Only a handful, apparently. It was the same routine for every one of them. A name was called, the crowd clapped while someone climbed up on stage, shook Lionel's hand, paused to let the photographers at the foot of the stage take their picture and then they left, their moment over.

George mentally ran through all the steps it would take to get her to the stage, the route she would take through the crowd, the side of the stage she would ascend from, all of it to prepare for her moment. She could feel it coming. Rosie shaking her arm and whispering encouragement into her ear didn't help. Jayden nudging her shoulder and giving her what could only be described as a nod of approval didn't help either. Neither did the glances she felt coming from the other side of the room.

Felix was there that night. It was the first time George had seen him in a long time. She hadn't gotten the chance to make her way over to him yet, too many people were crowding around him. Benjamina held on tight to his arm like she was his date, doing her job as his manager well as she kept him from running off and hiding in a corner. She was making him network, meet people, and interact with the people who ran his career. George tried not to look over too often but as Lionel started to introduce the last award of the night, she couldn't help herself. Felix was one of the reasons she was getting this award.

There was a huge smile on his face when they locked eyes. He held both thumbs up, the goofiest thing George had ever seen him do. That helped. His lack of cool helped break up just a fraction of the tidal wave of nerves currently breaking across George's entire body.

George started taking deep breaths and looking for a path through the crowd as Lionel spoke. But she didn't even get to take a step forward before someone grabbed her arm to keep her in place. George looked up at Jayden. He was shaking his head no and then nodding towards the stage.

Lionel wasn't the only executive up on the stage. As the head artist manager, Julien was there as well. And he was staring hard at George, trying to make her see him, trying to communicate something. George met his eyes just as Lionel read out, "And the award, for Producer of the Year, goes to..."

Julien shook his head. Not a wide, sweeping motion but short and tense, his eyes dark and angry. George had never seen him so furious. The look froze her in her tracks as her name was read out over the loudspeakers.

"George Briggs!"

The crowd cheered, just as loud as they had for the other winners. Maybe even a little bit louder. Rosie and Felix were to blame for that. Jayden hadn't let go of George's arm nor had Julien stopped shaking his head, staring down his daughter, both of them trying to keep George in her place.

George missed Sydney in that moment. That was the moment when the confusion was born, the haze that would take over the rest of the night. If Sydney was there, George would have been able to look over at her and ask her a silent million and one questions. She would have gotten all of them answered with just one look, just one look from Sydney and George would have known what was going on.

But Sydney wasn't there that night. She had gone home for the holidays and George had never felt so alone in that moment, surrounded by so many people who knew her and how hard she had worked.

A fraction of George's unspeakable questions were answered when Lionel stepped back up to the microphone after the crowd's cheers had died down due to confusion when no one took the stage. Lionel didn't let the moment of confusion live longer than half a second as he was already speaking when people started looking in George's direction.

"Unfortunately, George couldn't make it tonight but he sends his best and wishes everyone a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Thank you all for coming! Please, enjoy the food and drinks."

Lionel's words were mostly spoken to the reporters and photographers. The rest of the crowd halfheartedly clapped him off stage as the ceremony ended.

The haze descended like a storm. George's mind went completely blank. Before she knew what was happening, Rosie and Jayden were whispering about something, something to do with Vivian and her Christmas party. George didn't know what they were referring to until she found herself standing at the edge of her mother's lawn, looking out at a party that continued to happen despite everything that had happened that evening. The party partied on as if it didn't know the world had ended, as if it didn't care that the worst thing that could have happened happened. Even Jayden and Rosie were only sympathetic to a point. They might have tried to talk to George, to get her to talk, kept her company on the outskirts of the party for a while, George wouldn't know.

All she knew was that moment, playing over and over and over and over again in her head. Jayden's hand on her arm, the look on Julien's face, the slick smile on Lionel's, the absence of Sydney, the overwhelming feeling of loneliness and embarrassment, all of it running rampant in George's head.

Mindlessly watching a crowd of people mingle and converse, a stray thought slipped into George's brain, its subject matter the only thing strong enough to penetrate the fog she was drowning in. She hadn't gotten the chance to see Felix. They had been in the same place, at the same time, for the first time in over a year and a half. She had seen him, in the flesh. He had stood only a few yards away from her and she had missed her chance.

Somehow that one thought felt heavier than all the rest battling it out in George's brain and she couldn't take the sight of the party anymore. She turned her back to it and rested her entire weight against the iron railing of her mother's fence. The cold, hard, painful sensation of the railing digging into her arm was a welcomed change to the pain currently cramping up her insides. Even the sight of the cold, unfeeling city was a warm welcome in comparison to everything that had happened that evening.

What a way to spend a birthday, George thought, the fact that it was her birthday crawling across her consciousness for the first time all evening.

There was nothing that could make her feel better. Nothing in the world. George just wanted to hide, to be somewhere else, anywhere else. She wanted to be enveloped in the warm, heavy blankets of her bed back in New York. She wanted to be racing down empty highways in the middle of some far-off country on a tour bus, the hum of the engine lulling her to sleep. She wanted to be somewhere warm and welcoming, someplace she knew, someplace she felt safe. But there was no place like that in LA.

"GEORGIE!"

And then there was that one word, from that one voice. George was wrong. There was somewhere in LA where she felt safe, where she felt at home. But it wasn't a place.

Felix was racing through the crowd, collecting stares as he went, his declaration of her nickname yelled out from the edge of Vivian's patio now a topic of amusement among the party-goers as he pushed through them to get to George. Felix ignored their stares. He barely stopped to catch his breath when he finally reached George and he didn't hesitate as he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her in for a hug.

It was a huge hug, the biggest George had ever known. It was warm, comforting, and all-encompassing. The last eighteen months of distance and minimal communication, all of it melted away in that hug. George held on tight to Felix's suit just as he held on tight to hers. She didn't let go and neither did he. Her face was wet with tears when he finally gave her room to breathe and there were tear marks on his jacket coat.

George couldn't look up at him, only at those tear marks. She could feel his eyes searching her face, willing her to meet his. She took a deep breath and then did. She saw only compassion, affection, and understanding at the forefront of his eyes, lighting them up a warm green. But she knew Felix too well. She could see it, just a hint of it, the anger, the indignation, hiding behind the concern. That anger made her feel better than all the compassion in the world could have. Someone else was just as furious as she was.

Felix didn't say anything, just pulled her back in for another hug. George buried her face in his chest. There, she was safe. There, she was loved, seen. Felix didn't need to say it. George knew she deserved that award, she knew she deserved the recognition. But still, it was nice to hear it from someone, especially Felix as he whispered it in her ear.

"Congratulations, kid," he said in her hair. "You earned it."

A/N:

Anyone recognize a few familiar faces??? No?? Just me? And that's only because I am the writer and creator of this little cinematic universe??

Well, if you didn't recognize anyone, don't worry about it! I'm here to explain all my little Easter eggs. That's the fun part of being a writer.

Jayden is from my book, Five Years of Fame. So is Anton, now that I think about it! I probably should have mentioned that in chapter two. Oh well!

Rosie is from my collection of short stories called Love Like the Movies. George is in one of those! She's in the story titled 'Party in Hamptons.'

(If you go read 'Party in the Hamptons', if I've successfully piqued your interest, please forgive my timeline indiscretions in regards to George. Building a cinematic universe is harder than it looks.)

George is also in my other Christmas story, Holidays in the Hamptons! She makes a cameo in one of the last chapters so if you wanna just read the last three or so chapters to find her, you are more than welcome to!

Anyway, Rosie and Jayden aren't the only cameos that are going to show up this book. If you have nothing else to do before the next week, maybe go catch up on my other works so you're fully informed when the next cameo shows up!

Or don't! That's fine too!

Hope your having fun reading!

Okay, Maria, that's enough exclamation points.