"This will never work," Philby breathed, staring up at his private jet. Little Sarah grabbed on to his royal sash and tugged on it.

"Let's go, let's go!" she squealed excitedly.

"It'll be fine," Finn said. "The grown-ups will be too busy with their boring work to notice that we're even gone."

"I don't know..." Philby was still unsure. "Uncle Walt would be really mad if he found us sneaking with him-"

He didn't even get to finish his sentence before Sarah and Finn were rushing into the jet. "NO!" Philby held out his hands, but they ignored him and disappeared into the plane. Philby groaned, took a quick, cautious look around, before running after them.

"WOW!" Sarah jumped and danced around in her poofy purple dress. Philby stood at the entrance of the plane, watching calmly as the two hooligans danced around. He stood regally, as a prince should, with his hands clasped behind his back. He couldn't hold back the tiny, amused smirk that tugged at his lips.

"I assume it's to your liking?"

"This is so cool!" Finn gushed. "I wish the president could get stuff like this!"

"A throne! On a plane!" Sarah rushed over to a giant, red velvet chair.

"Sarah, don't sit on that!" Finn scolded as the little girl struggled to climb up onto it. Philby chuckled.

"That's quite alright. Uncle Walt doesn't mind people sitting on his throne. Besides, it's not like that's the real one. It's just a transportation throne."

"You royals get everything!" Finn said, rubbing the velvet on the throne.

"I would assume it's the same with you?" Philby questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"We don't get thrones!" Finn laughed, helping his little sister up into the chair. "And our jet is hardly as nice as this one."

Meanwhile, the assistant Kelly from chapter one watched from outside of the plane, arms crossed. Her lips tightened into a straight line.

"Oh dear," she sighed. "The young miss Sarah is going to get her dress all dirty." She shook her head with disdain. "Who would I alert for a situation like this?" Her eyes snapped open. "Oh. I didn't realize I would have to use that so soon. Oh well, I suppose I don't have a choice." She looked back at the plane. "Have a nice trip, your highness, young master and mistress."

The red head sprinted forward suddenly, pushing a rattling cart filled with drums.

"It's on, Muppet!" Ryan laughed, running after him with guitar case in tow.

Animal knew he had the disadvantage of the heavy instruments, but he was also the most athletic of the group. He pushed forward with everything he had, crashing through the door to the rehearsal room. He released the cart and it went rolling into a wall. SMASH! CRASH!

He winced. "Whoops." Probably shouldn't be treating instruments so poorly.

"Didja see that, Snowy?" he chuckled with pride, instantly forgetting about the drums. He hoped the girl saw his victory. He turned around to face her, but stepped on something that rolled from underneath him and sent him falling to the ground.

"OOF!" he grunted, picking up what he slipped on. "Snow, don't just leave bitten apples lying around!" he scolded, looking up at the girl. His breath hitched, getting caught in his throat as his eyes widened.

Ryan came in second, panting and doubling over, hands on his knees. "I just don't get it," he chuckled breathlessly. "You're inhumanly fast, Animal! No wonder that's your nickname!"

Animal was speechless. "Ah...uh..."

"Where did you get that apple?" Naveen entered, sauntering in without a care, not bothering with the race. Ryan raised an eyebrow and followed the gaze of Animal's dark eyes to see why his best friend was so stricken. His jaw dropped.

Eric, not one for competition, walked in last, setting his flute down on the table. "What's going o-"

"SNOW!" Ryan screeched, rock-star sliding on his knees next to the body of the girl. He rolled her so she was laying on her back, her lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling. Her bright red lips were parted, no air flowing through them.

"Eric, call 911!" Naveen snapped to attention. He wasn't lazy when the situation depended on it, in fact he was quite the opposite. Eric scrambled to his cell.

"Snow!" Ryan shook the girl's shoulders, and she limply rolled with the action. "Snow! Snow White, dammit, answer me!"

"Yes, hello? We found my friend, collapsed!" Eric yelled into the phone. He turned to his friends. "Is she breathing?"

Naveen held his hand above Snow's parted lips, then under her nose. "Doesn't seem like it!"

"No, she's not," Eric answered the receiver on the other end. "I DON'T KNOW THE ADRESS!" he yelled uncharacteristically, stressed out of his mind. "It's studio 3 at Hollywood. Rehearsal room A? Is this making any sense?"

"SNOW!" Ryan yelled into the girl's face.

Animal's grip tightened on the apple, still motionless and unable to speak. His breath came out in ragged gasps.

"They're on their way," Eric informed. "Yeah, I can stay connected," he directed to the 911 receiver.

Ryan leaned over, laying his head on Snow's chest. "I can't find a heartbeat!"

"Ashi dansa...ashi dansa..." Naveen mumbled under his breath in his native Maldonian.

"Where's Willa?" Ryan looked up and around. "Where is she?!"

"She went to go unpack at the hotel next door, I'm sure she's fine," Naveen said, going back to English. "Snow was fine when we saw her, right?"

"Animal was the last to see her," Ryan glanced back at his terror-stricken friend.

Animal stared at the apple in his hand. "Ah..." he still couldn't speak. He could barely breath.

The door smashed open, and Charlene jumped as policemen ran in. A dark skinned woman in a uniform, probably leading the group, approached the director.

"Cut!" he called, and the cameras stopped rolling, the actors stopped acting, and all the attention turned to them.

"This isn't rehearsal room A, is it?" the woman asked as a gurney was pushed in by emergency technicians.

"Next door," the director said, a worried look deepening in his wrinkles. "To the left."

That was the room Willa was in! Charlene realized. "W-What's wrong?" she asked.

She was ignored as everyone left the room. "Okay, everyone!" the director clapped his hands. "Let's all collect our bearings and reset from the top of the scene! Prop crew, reset! Actors in beginning places!"

Charlene blinked at the door.

"Linda!" the director called her character's name. "Linda! CHARLENE TURNER!"

Charlene snapped to attention. "Y-Yes sir! Sorry!" she rushed back to the desk, her starting position for the scene. She took a deep breath in, then out, pushing the thought of the gurney, policemen, and Willa out of her mind and once again becoming Linda.

Willa was in the middle of unpacking, placing her shirts into the dresser drawers, when her cell buzzed from the bedside table. She grunted, pushing herself from her knees to her feet, and walked over, checking the caller id.

On the screen were the words King Naveen the Great (she had let him type out his contact name) and a picture of Naveen smirking and dancing with his ukelele. She unlocked the phone and answered the call. "Hey, Naveen," she said, smiling. "How's the rehearsal room?"

Rapid yelling came from the other side of the phone. Willa quickly pulled the cell away from her ear, wincing. "Naveen, you're speaking in Maldonian again, what's going on?!"

Naveen apologized, his voice as stressed as before, and spoke in English. Willa's eyes slowly widened as the story spilled through the phone.

"Oh my god," she breathed, speechless. She quickly regained her bearings, shaking her head and squeezing her eyes open and shut. "I'm on my way! Stay on the phone, I'm leaving the hotel now!"

She grabbed her hotel key and shoved it into her pocket, fleeing out of the door without a second thought.

"Look at that, Manda," Jess said as the two walked out of the hotel. They were headed to their first meeting with Maleficent when a bunch of police cars and ambulances cut off their path, driving straight towards the studio.

"I hope everything's all right," Amanda said worriedly, eyebrows furrowing at the chaos.

"I'm on my way now!" a voice behind them said. A girl was running out of the hotel, on her phone, eyes wide and worried. "I-I can see the ambulances, they're on their way!"

Amanda watched the dark skinned girl, presumably their age, rush past them. "HEY! Do you know what's going on?!" she called out. The girl didn't answer, just ran across the street to the studio and followed the officers in. Jess and Amanda traded looks before running after them.

"It's chaos down there, Aunt Jelly," Maybeck commented, staring down at the studio from the hotel room's window. His Aunt was busy unpacking her clothes and shoving them into drawers.

"That's Hollywood for you, Terry," she said absentmindedly.

"I wonder what's going on that warrants all this," Maybeck continued, watching three girls run across the street. "H-Hey! Those are those two girl's from the elevator!"

"Oh, they were sweet," Jelly chuckled, only half-listening to what Maybeck was saying.

"What are they up to?" he mumbled as the two sisters followed another girl to the ambulances. "It doesn't look like a fire...I think someone got hurt."

"Hm?" Jelly finally looked up from her busywork. "What on Earth are you doing over there, Terry? Why don't you stare at a TV like a normal teenager?"

"Maleficent."

The pale woman turned around when she heard the knock and call at her dressing room door. "Enter," she said, knowing who it was.

Cruella walked in, but stayed in the doorway. "The basket was sent over. I sent over some nice soaps, flowers, mints. Apples."

"Nicely done, Cruella," Maleficent praised. Cruella couldn't help but grin. One doesn't get complimented by her very often.

"And I do believe I hear sirens," Cruella said. "I wonder what that could be for?"

Maleficent's eyes never left the reflection of herself in the mirror as her lips pulled back into a twisted grin.

And thus the intensity ensues. What do you guys think? I love to hear your opinions!