It had been over two days since the disastrous recording session, and Bell hadn't left her room for anything other than brief breaks. Her mind was consumed with perfecting Vivica's songs, pushing herself past exhaustion. Sheet music covered every inch of the floor surface, and the steady loop of Vivica's tracks filled the room like an unrelenting echo, playing endlessly in the background. Her throat was sore, and her fingers felt numb, but she couldn't stop. If she was going to survive in Vivica Winters' body, she had to master every note, every melody—no matter what it took.
Bell was determined to master Vivica's voice, every nuance, every pitch—though it seemed impossible. Her fingers trembled over the piano keys, but she kept pushing. The strain in her body only fueled her need to get it right. She barely noticed time passing.
Downstairs, the housekeeper grew increasingly worried. She had been leaving meals at Bell's door, but none of the plates had been touched. With no response to her knocks, she finally decided to call Lisa.
"I'm worried about Ms. Winters," the housekeeper said. "It's been over two days, and she hasn't come down for meals. She's barely left her room and I haven't heard her leave the room."
Lisa's stomach dropped, and she immediately called Jacen. When the two arrived at Vivica's home, they were met by the anxious housekeeper.
"She's punishing herself for that recording session," Lisa muttered, shaking her head. "She's been at it non-stop. Two days straight is insane, even for her."
Jacen frowned, knocking on Bell's door. "Vivica? It's Jacen. Open up."
Inside, Bell wiped the sweat from her forehead, her voice hoarse from days of practicing. The knock pulled her back to reality.
"I'm fine!" she called out, though she sounded exhausted.
"Two days straight of this isn't fine," Jacen replied, glancing at Lisa. "You haven't eaten, Vivica."
Lisa knocked softly again. "Come on, just take a break and eat something. You're not doing yourself any favors like this."
Bell felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She hadn't meant to worry them. But every time she considered stopping, the fear of failure gripped her. She didn't want to let them down. She didn't want to let herself down. She needed to prove she could live up to Vivica's name.
"I'll come down soon," she lied, her voice strained.
"Vivica, please," Lisa insisted gently. "You can't work yourself to death over one bad day. We'll postpone the next session if you need more time."
Bell's chest tightened. Postpone? No. She couldn't afford to delay. She needed to be ready.
"I'm fine," she repeated softly. "I just need… a little more time."
Unable to wait any longer, Lisa grabbed the spare key from the housekeeper and unlocked Bell's door. What she saw inside made her freeze in shock. Music sheets were scattered everywhere, and a disheveled Bell—still in Vivica's body—sat hunched over the piano, her hair a tangled mess and her face pale from exhaustion.
"Oh my God," Lisa breathed, her mouth widening. "Vivica, what the hell?"
Jacen couldn't take it anymore. He marched into the room, his expression firm. "Alright, that's enough." He crossed his arms. "You're either coming downstairs on your own, or I'm dragging you."
Bell's hoarse voice broke through the room. "I'll be down in a sec. Just give me a few more minutes."
"Can you even hear yourself?" Lisa said, moving closer and pulling Bell's hands away from the piano. "If you keep this up, you're going to lose your voice completely."
Bell wanted to argue, but she knew they were right. Her throat was already burning, and she could barely hit the notes anymore.
"I get it, you guys, but it's just that—" Bell started to explain, but Jacen had had enough.
"Vica, downstairs. Now," Jacen ordered, stepping forward with his arms outstretched, ready to lift her.
"I'm coming!" she said hastily. But before she could even move, Jacen swooped her up effortlessly and carried her towards the door.
"Then we go the hard way," Jacen said, determined.
Bell struggled lightly in his arms. "Guys, seriously, it's not like I haven't eaten. I had some oats bars and a few things from the mini-fridge."
"We don't care about that," Lisa said firmly, following them out of the room. "You need a proper meal and rest. You're pushing yourself too hard."
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the housekeeper nodded. "Miss Winters, I'll prepare a tea for your throat and voice. You need something soothing."
Bell sighed, finally accepting defeat. As Jacen set her down, she couldn't help but feel guilty. She hadn't realized how much her obsession with practicing had worried them. "Fine," she muttered. "I'll take a break."
Lisa gave her a concerned but relieved smile. "Good. Now let's get you something to eat before you collapse."
After eating and resting for a while Bell went into her room and sat at the edge of her bed, staring at the scattered music sheets around the room. The sounds of Lisa's hurried footsteps and Jacen's irritated voice still echoed in her ears, but the silence after their departure felt deafening. She wasn't punishing herself, at least that's what she kept telling them. She was just... trying to survive.
She leaned back against the headboard and let out a long sigh, closing her eyes. Two days had passed since that disastrous recording session. She had tried—really tried—but when the music started, her voice had betrayed her. Her lack of control was glaringly obvious, and no amount of willpower seemed to bridge the gap between her and Vivica's vocal prowess. "I guess everything doesn't come with the body," she muttered, rolling over on the bed and hugging a pillow.
Her mind swirled. She wasn't Vivica Winters, but for now, she had to be. Bell couldn't afford to mess this up—not Vivica's life, not her own second chance. The pressure was mounting, and she felt it tightening around her chest like a vice.
"I can't go on like this," she whispered.
The door creaked open, and Lisa poked her head in cautiously. "You okay in here?"
Bell offered a weak smile. "As okay as I can be."
Lisa walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. "You know, Jacen's worried about you. Heck, we both are. You've been cooped up in here for days."
"I know," Bell admitted, sitting up. "I'm sorry if I worried you both. I just... I don't know how to do this, Lisa. I've been practicing, but no matter what I try, I'm not Vivica."
Lisa frowned. "You don't have to be perfect, Viv."
Bell shook her head. "But that's the thing. People expect Vivica to be perfect. I'm just… I'm not sure how to get there."
The room fell silent for a moment, and then Lisa glanced at the door. "Maybe you need a mentor. Someone who helped you get to where you are today."
Bell looked up, intrigued. "A mentor? My mentor? who is that?"
"The person you used to work with back in the day—before you made it big. The vocal coach, actually. His name's Brian Kayson . If anyone can help you find your footing, it's him. Have you forgotten him?"
Bell's heart skipped a beat. "No it just skipped my mind. You think he'd be willing to help me again?"
Lisa nodded. "You trusted him. He's got a reputation for being tough but fair. And if you're serious about this, he might just be the push you need again."
Bell swallowed the lump in her throat. A mentor... someone who actually knew Vivica before the fame. "Okay," she said, determination settling in her chest. "Let's reach out to him."
Lisa smiled, relieved. "I'll make the call. In the meantime, rest. You've done more than enough for now."
As Lisa left the room, Bell stood and moved toward the window, the city lights flickering in the distance. She had a long way to go, but she wasn't giving up. Not now. Not after everything.
"I'll figure this out," she whispered, staring at the horizon. "One step at a time."