Down the street was London Boarding School, known for being the "Good school gone bad." It's pretty much the school equivalent of Rihanna. But there was nothing crazy going down in one of the empty rooms today. Instead, my sister, Mariah, was ending her dance class, filled with girls 16-19. Jada and Emmani just chilled on the side

"Alright, everybody did real good today, we still gotta work on those leg extensions, but we gon get there. Come on, y'all".

They all got into a huddle together, and Mariah cheered, "One, two, three..."

"Dance squad!" they all shouted in perfect unison.

The class packed up their bags and got ready to leave. One girl pulled out a giant jar of cheeseballs.

"Gimme some," another girl asked.

"Maybe in your dreams," she dismissed her quick. She passed the jar to Mariah.

"This is for you, thanks for everything you do. I really appreciate it."

"Aww, thanks." They had a quick hug, and she twirled out of the room.

"Who the hell is that," Emmani asked.

"That's Stacy," Mariah said, "I don't like picking favorites, but she's on the best ones in here."

"You just said that cause she gave you some cheeseballs," Azyrea chimed in.

"Nah," Mariah kicked back in the seat, "Well, yeah. But it's like she gets everything real quick, she don't complain about stuff, and she kinda fine too."

"Wow Mariah," Jada took a sip of some raspberry lemonade. Then the principal walked in.

"I gotta say, I've really been impressed with the progress this class has made lately. Say, on June 25th, I wanna do a dance tribute to Michael Jackson, can you..."

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" Mariah leaped out of her seat.

"Great, I'm sure you'll come up with something amazing." She smiled from ear to ear and started walking out of the room. "Have a great night, don't let the broke boys bite."

In the London Boardwalk apartments, Johnny and Kimberly were fooling around in their room. They were drinking some Apple Cider and Vinegar while watching lyric videos on YouTube.

"Hey baby," Johnny slurred, "Wanna do some karaoke?"

"Hell..hell yeah," Kimberly flung her bottle around, spilling it a bit, "Let's get it on, daddy."

The song they chose? Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give You Up. They held invisible microphones and sung the lyrics:

"We're no strangers to love

You know the rules, and so do I, hey!

A full commitment's what I'm thinkin' of

You wouldn't get this from any other guy

I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling

Gotta make you understand."

The hook came, and they sang that shit at the top of their lungs:

"NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP, NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN, NEVER GONNA RUN AROUND AND DESERT YOU, NEVER GONNA MAKE YOU CRY, NEVER GONNA SAY GOODBYE, NEVER GONNA TELL A LIE, AND HURT YOU"

They were off-key, off-sync, and woke up the whole damn apartment. The door had burst open, and all four members of One Direction had came in.

"Jumpin' Jellybeans!" Kimberly zoomed over in a flash, leaving Johnny with a dumb look on his face

"What, what the hell is this?" he threw his arms out.

"Oh my God, I love you guys!". She shook Niall's hand, Liam's hand, and Louis' hand. She reached for Harry's, but he told her, "Bug off." His solid abs, wholly drowned in tattoos, distracted her from his comment.

"One Direction? Oh, man!" Johnny crept up with a guitar, "I could be your next Zayn." He strummed random, mashed up notes on his guitar while singing, "Girl, I wanna love you sidewaaaays, and up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down."

All four members covered their ears.

"Issa no from me dawg," Liam put on his best Simon Cowell impression.

"What, what are you guys doing here?" Kimberly asked.

"I heard your singing, and I was blown away," Louis told her, "Would you like to join our group?"

"Oh my God, yes, yes, yes!"

"Why are we letting this annoying little brat join the group? She can't even hold a note," Harry had his eyes low and was clearly out of it.

"Why are you such a jerk?" Kimberly's voice cracked. He looked at her and said nothing. He just smirked and laughed a bit.

"You are so cute, Harry."

"You too, Kimberly."

They looked at each other in the eyes, and they shared a long, fiery kiss.

"Get off my girl!" Johnny yelled, running up and ready to rumble.

"Johnny, you okay?"

Kimberly woke out her sleep to see just what the hell was going on. He was on the floor, beating up the lamp, and screaming, "You talentless monster!"

"What the hell, dude?". She scratched her head.

"Sorry I had a nightmare." He got up and climbed back in the bed.

"You wouldn't leave me for Harry Styles, would you?"

"The hell?" Kimberly raised an eyebrow and began to explain. "I don't even listen to One Direction like that."

"Thank God," he wiped some sweat off his forehead, "It was just a dream."

"You need to stop reading Wattpad at night," she told him, before going back to sleep.

While all this was happening, Kenyelle, Monica, Thomas, and Grady were chilling and smoking weed in the local production studio. Grady changed a lot in the past year. He hit a marvelous growth spurt that sent him from 4'11 to 6'1, had a small mustache, and his squeaker turned into a voice that rivaled Barry White's. Monica took note of all this and stared at him for a while.

"Damn, boy," she took a long drag. "I ain't seen you in a year, and you got all fine. You grew up."

"Thanks." Grady smiled and got up.

"Something else grew too." He started to unbuckle his pants, but Kenyelle popped up

"Bruh, chill." He put his hand out in a stopping motion.

"You ready to do this?" he asked Monica.

"Hell yeah!". Monica pumped her fist in the air.

"Alright, when we record, I want you to sing the hell outta that song!". He started to move a bit frantically. "Pull your soul in that! Don't hold nothin' back! I want people outside the studio to feel it! You got me?"

Monica giggled a little.

"I got you, man," She cleared her throat, walked into the recording booth, and looked at the mic with a fire in her eyes.

"You ready?" he asked her.

"I was born ready!" she snatched the headphones and locked them around her ear.

"1, 2, 3, Go!"

A dark, cloudy trap beat with a tinge of R&B flavor began playing, and Monica lightly bounced around. Once the bass drop, she came in with:

"He tried to shoot his shot like he can't miss

I warned that lil boy that I'm dangerous

If he ain't loyal, he can't claim this

I told him watch out cause my shoe game heinous."

Kenyelle cut the track and hopped up out his seat.

"Ay, that was lit," he told her.

"Thanks, man," she said, walking out the studio. "You got your verse yet?"

"Man, I'm not gon' lie," He started scratching his head, "I ain't even start on that it yet."

Monica folded her arms and shook her head while smirking a little.

"You said you was gonna have it today."

"I was tryna get the beat right," he tried to explain, pointing at the equipment.

"Ay, time to lock up," a voice called from outside the studio. He dangled the keys.

"I promise, I'mma have the verse tomorrow," he claimed. All four of them began walking out.

"And if you don't?" Monica asked. She looked at him, menacingly with her hand slightly outstretched.

"Then I just don't have it," he said.

Monica rolled her eyes and said, "Whatever."

Back at the movies, the movie Closed was coming to a close. In the final scene, three of the four kids were walking away from the amusement park.

"I love this place, man," one of them told the other, still a bit jumpy. "Halloween Horror Nights don't stand a chance to this"

"Well, at least all those creeps are dead, we can go back to riding like we want."

"This place might be haunted!" the third kid flung his arms, "Again!"

"I doubt it," the first kid said. But behind them, something was rising from the dirt — a hand with a rainbow knife.

The end was punctuated with a standing ovation in the crowd. One guy pulled out a gun.

"This movie's so good, I gotta bust a cap!" He shot one in the air. Half the moviegoers scattered towards the exit. Marina turned to Bell.

"You can take the popcorn bucket off your head now."

"Is it over?"

"Yes"

"Good." He took the bucket off and wiped the sweat off his forehead. "That movie was scary as hell! I almost peed myself"

Marina looked at his pants. They were soaked and dripping wet.

"I think you actually did."

"Aw, man!" he cried, "I got these from Gretchen. I'm gonna die!"

"Relax babe," she put her hand on his chest, "We'll just wash it when we get home, okay?"

"Okay." He used his infamous pout face.

They left the theater and walked to her shiny black Nissan. She pushed the button, and they took off.

"Baby, put something good on the radio for me, " She smiled and looked at him, still thinking about what just happened.

"We bout to get gangsta up in here." He pumped his shoulders, then turned the knob.

"This is Gangsta rap radio. Tonight we got a classic for ya, so kick back, grab a six pack, and relax..."

The beat began playing, and Marina's eyes perked up.

"Bell, change it!"

"Why?"

"Because..."

It was too late — the infamous police song by N.W.A began playing. After the first two bars, Marina clicked it off and wiped her forehead.

"Whew!"

Bell reached out to the radio.

"Turn it back on," he begged.

"You wanna get in trouble?" she asked him

"No." He shook his head like a child.

"Then don't play it," she told him and shook her head. They finally arrived at Jonny and Gretchen's house, got out the car, and walked in.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Jonny ran up to them, "How was y'all little date?"

Gretchen scoffed and looked at him.

"Eww, you quoted Bill Cosby."

"Buzz off, slimy!" he yelled, fanning his arms

"Anyways," Marina started to tell them, "It was amazing. Bell is such a sweetheart. First, we..."

"What's all that orange and blue crud outside," Gretchen cut her off.

Bell peaked out the door and yelled, "Hey Jonny, we got some visitors!"

"Oh really," he said while walking up. He opened the door, only to see some white men in white hoods with torches, the local police, and the H&M manager at Chinga Tu Madre Mall.

"Ahh!" he let out a high-pitched squeak and slammed the door shut.

"Who the hell was that?" Gretchen said.

"Nobody." He hid his face in shame and cried, "Whyyyyyyyyy?"