A song on the radio causes sparks to fly, rude fans cause conflict, and someone knocks on the door of whom we have heard nothing in quite a while.

I'd recently appeared on SNL, and things were beginning to look up. I had recorded my first single, 'Daddy's Little Princess' and I had a new image consultant. I was engaged to Gretchen, had a one-of-a-kind engagement ring made by Madam Zeela, and I was finally seventeen. Life was good.

Richard stopped me as I was about to leave his office building. "Keith, I know we decided we would stop around noon, but I had something I really needed to tell you. I got a call from the America's Freedom Festival committee and they want Up in Flames to play the pre-show at Stadium of Fire this year."

"The Stadium of Fire doesn't have a pre-show."

"That's supposed to be changing this year. They will be opening up the gates at four in the afternoon on Saturday. They'll need you to play for a couple of hours until about six."

"A couple of hours?"

"Yeah, a couple of hours. So, we'll be going over the line up tomorrow."

"Couldn't you have told them no?"

"Sure, but I figured it was a great opportunity."

I sighed. So much for relaxing for a bit.

What am I saying? I'm a ROCK STAR!

And they picked me to perform.

I smiled at this, "Richard, I'd be happy to perform. What do the other guys think?"

"Haven't told them yet, but I'm sure they'll be ecstatic."

"Ok, thanks for the heads up, Richard."

"Happy Birthday, Desi."

"Let Linda know the whole deal, would you, Richard? I want to make sure I never end up on stage in the next best thing to lingerie."

Richard chuckled at me and I drove Gretchen's car home.

I had to park a block away. Alright, it was only a couple of houses down. Extended family, remember? I put the wig back on and walked past the tables that had been set along the road. It was a fairly quiet street, and we left room for cars to get past. I greeted Nathan and my other cousins, I got the normal ribbing for my look, and the girl cousins and my aunts commented at my makeup skills. I smiled and sought out Gretchen. She was showing off her ring. When I got there she handed me mine, and I put it on.

"Keith, that ring is so beautiful. Is it true that you had it custom made? How did you ever get the idea for it?"

"The design was all Zeela's idea. I let her design whatever she wanted. I find that is the best way to get really pretty jewelry from her."

My grandmother looked sad for a moment, and then brightened. "Looks like my grandmother's ring misses another wedding."

"What?"

"Didn't know that you were descended from royalty, did you?"

"Gran?"

She pulled a lacquered box out of her purse and opened it. Inside, sitting on black velvet, was the most pretty ring I'd ever seen. Its center stone was an opal, and it was surrounded by a variety of other stones. I could almost say a rainbow. The metal was primarily gold, but some of the accents were silver.

Several of my aunts and cousins gasped.

"How many of the boys have you offered this to?"

"All of them," she said with a sad smile.

Gretchen put her hand upon my grandmother's arm. "Gran, the ring I'm wearing is more a symbol of my bond than a true engagement ring. It is a ring I can wear at any time. If you wouldn't be opposed to it, I'm sure that Keith would be fine with me wearing this ring."

My grandmother looked at me expectantly, and I smiled.

I gently removed the eternity ring from her finger and laid it upon the velvet in the case. I slipped the antique ring onto her proffered finger. It fit perfectly.

Gran threw her arms around Gretchen in a hug and whispered something in her ear. Gran then kissed her on the cheek a couple of times.

"Keith, I love this girl of yours." There were general noises of assent. I noticed my mom talking with Nathan to one side. I decided to walk over to them.

"I'm so glad you're here, Mom."

I could see a smile in her eyes, and she mouthed a 'thank you' at me.

"I'm sorry I treated you like I did, Tracy. I had to be sure. This is Keith's day after all."

"My day? What are you talking about? My mom deserves all the credit. She's the one who was pregnant and then had to deliver me into this world."

"Keith!?" Mom blushed at the praise I'd given her.

"I hear that!" My grandmother shouted from the other side of the gathering.

There was general chuckling and giggling and we got down to the serious business of partying.

***
Later that evening, I watched as Gretchen looked at her ring for the umpteenth time.

"Are you happy you agreed to wear the ring, Etch?"

"More than happy. They accept me as a woman, Keith. This ring is proof that they accept me."

I just smiled at her self-revelation, and watched as she preened with the ring. I was glad that she was happy. Her happiness completed me for the moment.

I lay down in my bed, and she finally came to join me. We quietly talked about nothing in particular. Talking became soft, but insistent kissing. I felt myself getting into it, and slowly pushed myself away.

"I can't do this to you, Gretchen."

She looked sad, but she nodded assent. "I know. It's just I want so bad to be this for you, Keith. I feel complete. And I want you to share in my completeness."

I put my hand to the side of her face, and she nuzzled into my hand.

"You complete me, Etch. Always and forever. I don't need to penetrate you to prove that. We are one."

She giggled at me for a moment and then threw her arms around me and kissed my chest a couple of times. She talked into my chest, "I love you so much, Keith. I really do."

I just held her. We spent another hour or so talking about inconsequential things, before I began to hear her quietly snoring into my chest.

I smiled into her hair and just held onto her.

I must have fallen asleep shortly after that, because the next thing I remembered was her kissing me awake. I smiled into her kisses. "Good morning, Etch." Well, that's what I said, but it came out more like "Gubmormm,emmf."

Talking through kisses does that.

"Just kiss me for a moment, Keith. That's all I ask."

We did that.

Looking back over everything I've written, I realize for the first time that I've never once mentioned my alarm. I mention it here, because it pertains directly to what I need to relate.

I have a radio alarm. When it clicks on, it starts silent and slowly increases in volume. It allows me to slowly become aware of my surroundings and wake up more normally, even if it is to my alarm.

Well, as Gretchen and I kissed, something on the radio caught my attention.

"Desdemona, folks. You heard me. We have an advance copy of her new single and are proud to be able to play it for you now. You requested it, and here it is, 'Daddy's Little Princess'."

For about two minutes I was in ecstasy. They were playing my song on the local pop station. My song. And then. . .

"What in the world?"

"Keith?"

What was he doing to me? This was my song. Sure it was over seven minutes long, but the whole thing told a specific story. For them to do this. . .this. . .

"It's so short," Gretchen said as soon as the song ended.

"It's too short.

I had not been this angry, well, ever. I was up and pacing the room. I was opening and closing my fists. I wanted to hit something. I wanted to hit someone. I needed. . .release.

"Gah!!!" I screamed into the air, and Gretchen got up and put her arms around me from behind. I struggled with myself not to pull out of her arms.

"Keith, honey, calm down. You can fix this." She was frantic, and I sat down on the bed with her. She was scared for me, and of me a little I think, so I calmed myself. I couldn't do this to her.

My phone began to ring. Desdemona. I answered in my sweetest voice, "you've reached the ninth ring of hell, Demona speaking. How can I rend your soul today?"

"Desi?"

"Oh, Richard, how nice of you to join me in the fiery pit today. Should I be tearing you a new one, or Mr. Praetor."

"Over what?"

"My song. Please tell me it wasn't your idea. Please tell me I don't have to shorten your life. I don't think Etch would ever forgive me."

"What are you talking about, Desdemona?"

"Who was the one who thought it would be a good idea to chop my song in half and play the beginning and the ending without any of the middle?"

"Desi. . ."

"Don't you dare 'Desi' me, Richard. Don't even start. That song is about reality. It is a song of a fall from grace followed by redemption. I introduce the main characters in the first 45 seconds of the song. They kept those intact, thankfully.

"The end of the song, 2:20 in length, is the redemption from the fall. Total between the two is 3:35. That is what I just heard on the radio. They destroyed the meaning, Richard."

"They felt that removing the harder rock portion of the song would help it to appeal to a wider audience."

"I don't want to appeal to a broader audience if the meaning of the song is missing. They want me to write a complete bubble gum song with edgy lyrics, fine, I will do that. They DON'T get the option to screw with this song that way."

"Keith, you have to understand. . ."

"No, Richard, I don't. I have to understand nothing. Before this, people were tuning in because of my music as it was. If they can't handle the songs the way I created them, then we're done. We break ties with Spotlight and we move on."

"Is that wise, Keith. Think before you. . ."

"I am thinking about this, Richard. I really am. I will sing pop songs until I'm blue. I will pander to my audience as far as they want. However, if I write a song, and we record it, it gets played as is, or not at all. That is what my contract said. So, who authorized this butchery?"

"Desi, I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't think. . . "

I took a deep breath, and then another, "I'm sorry, Uncle Richard."

I heard him sigh on the other end of the phone. "Let me give Ashley a call. I'll see if I can fix this."

"Thank you, Uncle Richard."

"Uncle?"

"Well, you did say I was your niece-in-law at one point."

"Not yet you aren't, you little minx." There was a smile in his voice, though, and we parted on better terms.

"Kisses."

"Bye, Desi."

I went out to the garage and phoned the guys. They were already on their way over to Gretchen's house. I warmed up a bit and then went through a couple of arpeggios on my 12-string.

Eventually the guys arrived, and we really began to jam. After about thirty minutes we took a break.

"So, you guys hear what's up tomorrow?"

"Yep, boss-lady. We get to play a two hour concert."

"With only 37 minutes worth of music? How we pulling this one off, Keith?"

"Well, we could easily double the length of 'My Own Person' with more battling at the beginning and general fun."

"That only gets us to 42 minutes."

"We need more songs, boss-lady."

I played idly on my guitar and thought of what we could do. Two hours was a daunting amount of time to take up with the limited music that we had here. Talking between songs would probably add between ten seconds and thirty seconds between each song.

That was between one minute thirty seconds and four minutes. Figure two minutes and that got me to 44 minutes total.

What if. . ?

"Ok, we'll run two sets. The first we start when we get in there. We run through our music in sort of a warm up, playing to what little audience there is. We jam for the next 30 minutes. We then play our second set. That will leave us two minutes for wrap up and getting off the stage."

"Now we just have to decide the order."

"If I may make a suggestion, boss-lady?"

"Go ahead, Davey."

"We make a 'Daddy's Little Princess' sandwich. Start and end with our new single. Speaking of the single, have you heard what they're playing on the. . ."

At my glare the smile left his face and he swallowed.

"I guess you have."

"I'm not pleased, to say the least. I talked to Richard this morning and he's trying to get it resolved."

I paused for a cleansing breath and tried a tentative smile, "We're here to practice guys. This is the fun part of our job. . .well that and performing." My smile became genuine at this point.

"Hell, yeah." Guthrie yelled, and then blushed bright red. "I mean, let's do this?"

Davey and I had a chuckle at his expense and we got down to it. We practiced, and practiced, and practiced. I went through what felt like a gallon of water.

We took a break at 2 pm for some lunch, more water, and a little break from our playing. I got some cuddle time. Then it was back into the fray.

God, I love my job.

We practiced until about six and then decided to call it quits for the day. It was one of the better days that I'd had in about two weeks.

We relaxed and watched some TV, joking around like a group of friends.

"You know, it'd be more fun if you guys had girls of your own. Then the three girlfriends could all hang together and swap stories while the three of you practiced."

Davey blushed, and Guthrie looked away.

"What?"

"Well, I didn't think that my girlfriend was invited."

I looked at Guthrie, and realized I'd made a stupid comment. I didn't know if they had girlfriends or not before I opened my big mouth.

"What about you, Davey?"

"Um. . ." It has his turn to blush. He closed his mouth and refused to open it.

"What? What is it?"

"I'm embarrassed, okay?"

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm sure that she'll be just as cute. . .I mean," Gretchen blushed at what she was about to say.

"She might be a he, Etch."

"No, I like girls, Gretchen. Women. Tall. . ." Davey's eyes glazed over a bit.

"So you like average sized women. There's nothing wrong with that, Davey."

Davey's blush deepened. "Gloria is 6'5" tall."

"Go, Davey!"

"Yeah, Davey!"

Davey visibly relaxed. "You're not shocked?"

"Davey, I'm engaged to a woman who was born a man, my Dad is married to a man who used to be a woman. I dress as a woman on stage. Where in this do you think there would be a problem with you dating someone almost twice your size?"

"Keith!" Gretchen punched me in the arm.

"I still see you as a woman, Etch."

"You didn't have to be that blunt about it."

"Fine, our next practice session we'll invite our girls. Okay with you Davey."

Davey flushed a bit, but nodded.

"Great, guys!" Gretchen was bouncy for the rest of the evening. I'd always preferred my Gretchens bouncy.

We got a good night's sleep and I was up early to get ready. I was looking through my clothing when there was a ring at the front door. I went down and opened the door. Linda breezed by me.

"Keith, so great to see you. We've got a lot to do, and so much time to do it in."

"Morning, Linda." I chuckled at her. She was so full of energy for seven in the morning.

"Ok, so here is what we're doing today. Today, we introduce Goth-next-door to the public. I'm going with a little bit eighties here, and a little bit nineties. I figure that it will give people the impression we are looking for."

"Eighties?"

"You already went there a bit with the tulle skirt for your first costume. Sure, they still use that a lot in Japan, but they've always been following us in certain aspects of fashion. And then again, we follow them in others. It's sort of a cycle. One country invents something, it gets passed around, changed, and then the originating country picks it up in an altered form.

"Anyway, I figured that we would simplify your wardrobe a bit for today, and possibly add some complexity later on.

"We're going with acid washed black jeans, minor slashing in the front. We'll give you a white peasant top over a black long sleeved shirt with a scooped neckline. Exaggerated eye liner in an 'Egyptian' style. Black blush today, to heighten the contrast with your pale skin. Peach lipstick. . .no, that won't work with the blush. Grey lips I think. Let's keep it a little monotone there. Make sure to wear the skulls today.

"And I think. . .pink ballet flats as your shoes."

She brought the outfit into my room, and left while I changed. I hadn't really gotten that much of an opportunity to wear the ballet flats since I'd purchased them, and they were as comfortable as I'd thought they'd be. They outfit was light, and mostly airy. The jeans were tight, but not overly so. I know I'd never worn anything like them as Keith before. The outfit did say Desdemona, especially with the skull earrings and pink hair.

I tried the makeup as suggested, but it ended up making my face look a little washed out. Not everyone can be perfect I guess. I removed the 'blush' and lipstick and began to play a little with my stage makeup. I mixed a bit of black in with my pink. I had to adjust it a bit a couple of times, but I ended up with a sort of grey with a pink tinge to it. I applied it to my cheeks and lips, but I still wasn't quite satisfied. I added a touch of pink as another layer on my cheeks, fading from the bottom up.

It was perfect. I went out into the hall to show off for Linda, and Gretchen wolf whistled. "While not what I wanted on the cheeks, I think you hit the overall style perfectly."

"The black on the cheeks and grey on the lips made me look washed out."

"I can see that. Sorry, I wasn't used to your complexion yet. You really are pale for a guy." I blushed at this.

"Well, we have a couple of hours, so I thought we'd go through your wardrobe for Desi and see what options you have in there that fit the image."

Linda breezed into my room and began making notes and examining my girl clothes. I think she really liked the black with pink hearts motif that I'd picked up in LA. Her eyes sparkled as she made some notes in her book about it anyway.

We hugged before she left, and the house seemed somehow less without her.

"She is a character," Gretchen said as I closed the door behind the retreating figure of Linda.

I sighed in agreement. One thing was for sure. It would never be dull when Linda was around. Sure, she only talked a little more than the other people I'd tried out for the image consultant spot, but when taken cold you could see that she always ran a mile a minute.

We drove the hour to Provo so that we'd be ready to go when they needed us. As it was we arrived at the LaVell Edward's Stadium shortly after one. I wished that I'd remembered how crazy Provo gets on the fourth of July, because we would have stayed there over night.

Let me explain something about The Freedom Festival for everyone who may not have had the opportunity to participate.

Provo begins celebrating the 4^th about midway through June. There are balloon races and breakfasts and. . .well lots of stuff. I don't know exactly anymore since it has been years since I was into that "kid stuff."

Anyway, this is all just precursor to what they do on the fourth, or in this case third, of July: the Parade.

People will camp out the night before so that they can get a curbside seat, waiting as the sun slowly rises so that they can watch the three to four hour spectacle that begins at about nine am.

For a good period before and after this parade, they shut down a number of major connecting streets. It becomes impossible to get to or from certain parts of Provo while this is going on.

Then, the parade ends and people try to get home. All of them at the same time. Through congested city streets. At the same time, people begin to gather at the stadium for the biggest fireworks show/concert in the valley, if not the state.

As you could probably imagine, it is faster to walk. That's what we began doing at ten. Walking. And people wanted my autograph. And so I signed autographs. And walked. And talked with my fans a little.

They even made some suggestions for some songs I should do covers of.

Some were kind of cool, and some were stupid, but I smiled and nodded all the same.

All in all it was a great opportunity to see what people thought about me.

"So, you going to watch the Stadium of Fire as well?"

A little girl with what once used to be blonde hair asked me. She was definitely a little below my normal demographic, or so I assumed. Ok, so she wasn't really a little girl. She was maybe ten or eleven.

Oh, and her hair? It looked as though she'd tried to color it pink, and her Mom, or someone, had tried to wash it all out.

"Nope, I'm not going to watch the show. I get to play while everyone is getting seated, or at least for the last couple of hours of it."

"Will you play 'Daddy's Little Princess'? It's my favorite song in the world, especially the long version."

I smiled at this. "Of course I will, princess. I love that song too."

"Is it your favorite?"

"Want to know a secret?" I asked her in a conspiratorial whisper.

She nodded her head at me, and her eyes lit up, "All my songs are my favorites."

We giggled a bit at that. She turned to her parents. "Can Desdemona sign my tee shirt?"

"I don't know, sweetie. . ." She looked over at me, obviously embarrassed to ask.

"It's perfectly fine. I'll just sign the back of it, as long as it is really okay with your parents."

"Please?"

"Okay," her mother said with a resigned sigh. The girl hopped up and down a bit. As soon as she calmed down a bit I signed the back of her shirt. ^#92Everyone deserves to be a princess at least some of the time. Princess Desi

"What does it say, Mommy?"

Her mom read it to her, and when I looked up at her she mouthed a thank you at me. I even thought I saw a tear or two in her eyes.

I smiled at her, and we all continued to work our way to the stadium. By the time we got there I was very glad for the simplicity of the costume I was wearing. Sure, I was only a little more Goth than the other people walking in the crowd, but that little bit counted.

Guthrie and Davey were there waiting for me, and they'd brought their girlfriends with them this time.

Gloria was literally 6'5". I expected her to be tall, but I think I thought that he was exaggerating a bit. Nope. She was taller than all of the rest of us, and taller than some of us combined. She was pretty in a blonde Amazon sort of way. She had eyes for Davey alone, though, so I was happy for them.

Guthrie's girl was quiet. I mean really quiet. She almost seemed to be looking for a mouse hole to go hide in. I felt a little sorry for her to be thrust into public like this.

Gretchen noticed her discomfort I think, because she walked over to her and began talking quietly, as Guthrie, Davey and I all started our initial prep for the show.

"Desi, I'm going to take Gloria and Farah and we're going to go find the green room." We kissed and they walked off. I'm pretty sure that Farah's jaw dropped to the floor when I kissed Gretchen because there was an audible snap from that direction which I assume was her closing it.

We still had a couple of hours before the concert started, and we hung around under the south stands of the stadium. I caught some glimpse of Carrie Underwood, who was performing that evening, but Guthrie, Davey, and I pretty much stuck by ourselves.

About twenty minutes before they wanted us to do a sound check, which we did. Some random noise and a couple of notes from me. Yes we goofed off.

We were bored, what can I say. There isn't much you can see from where we were, even though most of it is fairly open. We could see into the practice field where they had the fireworks set up. All in all it was a kind of interesting experience.

Then we were on stage, and everything was suddenly. . .better.

When we started, the seats were only about a quarter full. It really felt like we were playing to an empty amphitheater. Well, that is except for the "cougar thunder" every time we finished a song.

If you've never been to LaVell Edwards stadium, then let me describe it a bit for you. They built the north and south stand out of structural steel, and everything above about halfway on the east and west sides is made out of structural steel as well. There is a historical reason for this, but I never really cared to learn.

The area under the stands acts as a reverberating chamber. You end up with four huge drums, and the mallets are the feet of the fans. Yes, it makes a rumble like thunder and can be heard for miles in every direction.

Now, I'm sure that there are other stadiums that have the same effect, but the sound of that stadium has a special nostalgia for people who grew up in the surrounding area.

To have that noise generated for me and my band?

I almost choked up there on stage.

Needless to say, it took about three times my projected time between songs to get my fans quieted down. Every third song, a yell went up for 'Daddy's Little Princess'.

And so we ended up playing it every third song or so. We played right through the central thirty minutes that I'd figured we would have, and even cut a little into our next set before we finished every song in our repertoire. And still they called out for 'Daddy's Little Princess'.

"Hey, guys," I said looking at my band mates as I spoke into the microphone, "it sounds like they want us to play 'Daddy's Little Princess' again. What say you, Davey?"

He played a riff on his drums, and so I turned to the crowd and said, "Translated that means, 'Sounds like a good idea, boss-lady.' What about you, Guthrie."

Guthrie played a long whine on his bass that could only be translated as, 'Do we hafta?'

"Yes, Guthrie, we have to. Our fans want it."

He played the opening to 'Black Flag'.

"He says he'd prefer to play 'Black Flag'. Can we do that?"

The 'no' from the crowd was resounding.

"You heard them, Guthrie. They don't want 'Black Flag'."

The crowd began to sing the chorus to 'Daddy's Little Princess'. Guthrie played a sour note and then mocked the crowd a bit by playing the song slightly off key.

"Come on, Guthrie. The fans love it. Do it for me?"

I batted my eyes at him.

He made an exaggerated sigh and then began playing along with the crowd. I joined in signing with them till we got done with the chorus, and then went back to the beginning of the song and we played our hearts out for them.

The crowd sang along with me on the chorus, and pockets kept with me through the whole song.

I was about to look to see how much time I had left when someone stepped up next to me on stage.

"Let's hear it for Desdemona and Up in Flames."

The crowd cheered as we left the stage.

I looked at the clock and realized that I'd gone about fifteen minutes over.

"Oh, Shit."

"Don't worry about it. You really played that crowd like they were your 12-String."

Carrie was standing there, ready to go on stage. She had a smile on her face.

"I don't know if I'd go that far," I said, but I was smiling none the less.

"No, you perform well, live. I hadn't had the opportunity to listen to your music before."

"Yeah, we just don't run in the same circles."

They called Carrie out to perform her first set of the night, but when she got on stage, the crowd started calling my name, and they were unable to get them quieted down.

I walked out on stage, and they cheered, but I put a hand up.

"Ms. Underwood, could I borrow your mic please?"

"Certainly," she said. She looked a bit worried at what I was going to say.

"I know you loved me being up on stage, but this is Ms. Underwood's time. I wasn't even scheduled to be here until late this week, and I have to imagine that none of you actually bought tickets expecting to see me, right?"

There was general assent from the crowd, but there was some confusion as well.

"Look, I love that people enjoy my music, but I would feel really betrayed if my fans were to ever be rude to another performer. Think you can all be polite for Ms. Underwood? Please?"

There was cheering from the crowd so loud that it drowned out the sound system. People started chanting Carrie, Carrie, Carrie.

I smiled and handed the mic to Carrie and made to leave the stage. "Sorry about that."

"No worries, Desdemona. It happens occasionally to everyone. I haven't had it happen to me before. . ."

We both had a light giggle at this.

"Desdemona, would you like to perform with me?"

"I don't know any of your songs."

"Well, I know one of yours. 'Daddy's Little Princess'?"

I laughed, but nodded my assent.

"Good evening, Utah. It seems that my first number for the evening will be one that you've heard a lot, and will likely hear quite a bit more in the coming months. Performing her new single with me, I give you Desdemona and 'Daddy's Little Princess'."

It was a slightly new experience hearing the tune with a decided country twang to it, but I adjusted before the first verse, and I sang an impromptu duet with Carrie Underwood.

Not something I ever dreamed about, but I definitely enjoyed it.

I went and found the rest of the band in the green room assigned to us, and as soon as I entered I was accosted by Farah.

"Desi, look, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Some things I've been thinking about you. I knew that Guthrie had a thing for you before he started working with you, and that made me jealous. You are so much more talented than I could ever be, and that's something that I could never share with him.

"On top of that you're gorgeous."

"Listen, Farah, I'm sure that Guthrie thinks you are better looking that I am."

"He probably undresses you with his eyes while he's on stage. I know how he is."

I laughed at this, and Guthrie made gagging noises.

"Farah, you've got the wrong idea about Keith."

I cocked an eyebrow at her, but she just shrugged.

"Don't you mean. . ." it suddenly dawned on her what Gretchen had said.

"You're. . .a. . .BOY?!" She began laughing and just couldn't stop. She was borderline hysterical, but not quite over that edge.

"No WONDER I never got that lesbian vibe from Gretchen or you. Sure you kissed with enough passion, but neither of you act like ANY of my lesbian or gay friends."

She giggled a little bit. "I was sure the two of you were heterosexual all the way. It seems I was right."

We all had a bit of a laugh at this, until Gloria spoke up. "Wait, Desdemona is a guy?" She was speaking with a heavy Swedish accent.

I looked at Davey, and just stared at him for a moment. "Ok, could you get any more stereotypical blonde goddess? Swedish?"

"Desi, I'm kidding." They all began laughing, and eventually I joined in.

We watched the show on the CCTV until it began to get dark, and then went up to an area assigned for us to be able to see the fireworks. All in all it was a pretty spectacular day, and I loved almost every minute of it.

We said goodbye to my band-mates and their mates and made our way to the car. We walked with tons of fans, both of myself and Carrie Underwood.

"Desdemona, wait up a moment."

An older woman touched my arm and I turned to look at her. I smiled because she acted a bit nervous.

"Desdemona. . ."

"Call me Desi, it's easier."

"Desi, um, I'd like to apologize."

"What for?"

"For bad mouthing you to my friends and not allowing my daughters to listen to your music."

"Okay. . ."

"What you did tonight showed class. And you looked very pretty on stage. I wouldn't mind my daughters wearing clothing like you have on. . .as long as they don't go for pink hair."

"That's good. I like being a bit unique."

I giggled at that, and we said our goodbyes. Someone approached me in the dark, and I figured it might be a different fan, but then there Rachel was.

"Probably a good idea to keep moving, Desi."

"Rachel?"

"Yep, that's me. Moving?"

"Where have you been?" It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't seen much of her since I'd come back to Utah. Or was it that I was already ignoring her?

"I've been sticking to the shadows, you might say. Staying just out of sight. It was kind of hard to do with you walking to and from the stadium today, though."

"Where are you sleeping?"

"Tom's house. He has more than one guest bedroom you know."

"This is so weird. Do you have a super power or something?"

She snorted at that as we started moving again, "No, but I have a lot of training in blending in. I wanted to see what sort of threats you face on a daily basis, and I can tell that my work is cut out for me. You are entirely too people friendly. If that woman had meant to do you harm. . ."

"Rachel, if I have to stop interacting with my fans. . ."

"Nothing like that. I will just have to stick with you all the time. Well, from now on. Expect that I am nearby, even when you can't see me. I'll also be setting up a full surveillance team. I think it would work better than using a wall of flesh. People will assume you are unprotected, and so all of their plans will hinge on that."

"You're talking like you expect me to be attacked."

"Desi, that's my job. I plan for you being attacked at any minute of any day, so that you don't have to worry about it."

"Thinking like that would tend to make me paranoid."

"Yeah, that's sort of a hazard of the job. The best of us are one step away from being hospitalized in a mental institution."

We laughed, but I could hear the bitterness in her voice as she said this.

It took us until about three in the morning to get home, and even then the buzz of performing hadn't left me. I talked with Gretchen for about an hour before she decided she was too tired to continue. It was after six when I finally gave up looking at the clock and just stared at the ceiling.

The doorbell ringing woke me up around noon. I'd missed my ride to church, and was thinking of just rolling over and going back to bed. The doorbell rang again.

I stumbled out of bed and made my way downstairs.

"Hi, Keith."

"Jake?" He looked like crap. His beard was scraggly, and he didn't look like he was eating well. Could he really change this much in just three weeks?

"Hey, yeah it's me."

Something in his voice sounded broken. It was as if life no longer held value to him. I did the only thing I could. I invited him in.

"Sorry I bailed on you, man, but I had some thinking I needed to do."

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure your parents were happy to have you back."

"They don't know I'm here. I just wanted to see you once more, to explain, before. . .well, I wanted to see you."

"Jake, look, there's got to be. . ."

"Just let me talk, Keith, okay?"

I nodded mutely at him as he began to speak.

"Bobby raped me the first time when we were in junior high."

My jaw dropped open, I was speechless. I could not force sound past my vocal chords.

"I tried to convince myself that I enjoyed it, that I wanted it. Boys don't get raped. I had to keep hold of that."

He began to cry, and I wanted to comfort him, but guys didn't do that either. . .screw it. I got up and sat next to him in his chair. I put my hand on his back and he leaned into me.

"I thought he loved me Keith. I thought that it would all work out in the end as long as he loved me. I could live with his temper and. . .and. . .everything. I could handle it. It just made us gay, right?"

He tried to pull away a bit, so I let him. I didn't want to cause any more trauma, but I left my hand on his back.

"I thought he'd just found someone new when Brock came around in that getup. I thought it was another one of his games he'd play with me. I thought anything but what was really going on. He'd found a new victim."

Jake put his head in his hands, "It was my fault, Keith. All my fault. If only I'd told someone what was going on, if I'd DONE something. . .Buffy. . .it's all my fault."

He just cried like a baby after that and I put my arms around him. Sometimes boys needed to act more like girls in my opinion. Holding in your emotions, and refusing to comfort someone in pain never served any good I can think of.

"I tried to join up with the gay crowd, to bury my pain in someone else's arms, but it wasn't there. I wasn't attracted to any of them. That's why. . .I've been ruined, Keith. I'm ruined and I just want the pain to stop. I had to say goodbye. . ."

I waited for him to continue for a bit, but he just cried.

"Before you go, don't you think there are other people you need to say goodbye to?"

"Who?'

"Well, Buffy is home from the hospital."

"I couldn't, I just couldn't."

"Come on, if this is the last thing you do, you can do anything, right?"

"I guess."

"Let's take Gretchen's car and drive over there."

"Ok."

Since I didn't see Rachel anywhere, I decided to call out. "Rachel, I'm heading over to Buffy Hansen's house. You want to come with?"

"No, it should be fine."

I guided him to the car, hoping that I was able to think of something in the next few minutes to get him out of this funk. Even if I couldn't there was no way I was letting him out of my sight.

We rang the doorbell, and I heard Suzi's voice over the intercom. "Who is it?"

"Keith and Jake. We thought we'd stop by to see how Buffy is doing."

There was a buzz at the door, and Suzi's voice said, "Come in."

I led Jake to the room where Buffy was recuperating, and she smiled at us when we got there. Most of the bandages had been removed from her face, and I could see that she was a knockout. Seriously. There was still a little discoloration around her eyes, and a yellowed bruise or two on other parts of her face, but there were no traces of Brock left there.

"Looks like you came out of this looking like a model, " I said with a smile. She typed into her keyboard, and I read the response on the screen.

:I got the bandages off just a couple of days ago. I was surprised to say the least.:

"I'll say. You are very pretty, Buffy." Jake said. He was mesmerized. I'm pretty sure that he was expecting to see a scarred and depressed boy lying in this bed.

Buffy blushed. :Thank you, Jake.:

"Buffy, I wanted to apologize."

:What for?:

"I knew what kind of a monster that Bobby was, and I did nothing to protect you."

:How could you know? Nobody could have known that.:

"I knew. He raped me as well. I did nothing about it, and I could have. . .I could have."

Jake was crying and not looking at the screen, so he couldn't see what she was typing.

She began to talk through her wired jaw. I could tell that the effort was a little painful for her, but I could also see that she was finally relieved to say something. Anything. It was a little slurred, but completely understandable.

"Jake, this is not your fault. It never was. You were the victim too."

"I should have said something."

"You just did. Please, Jake. Trust me. We can get through this together, you and I."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I want to be friends."

"I need more friends." There was pain in his voice at this, and sarcasm as well.

"You can always use another friend, Jake."

"I'm damaged, Buffy. I'm soiled. I'm filthy and no girl will ever want anything to do with me."

A 5'3" bundle of fury and energy lit into Jake, pounding him on the arm and trying to get his attention.

"Jake, you self centered, narcissistic, idiot of a boy. You KNOW I've had a crush on you for years."

"Hi, Susanne."

"Hi, Susanne? Hi, Susanne?! You take off for three weeks, tell no one where you are going, not even your parents, and all you can say to me when you get back is 'Hi'? I ought to. . ." She stopped, realizing that he was just pulling further away into his shell, and so she hugged him.

"I ought to let you know that I missed you, and I don't want you to ever leave me again. I know you don't love me, but can you at least be friends with me? I couldn't bear to lose you completely from my life."

"I'm sorry, Susanne. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I've told you a million times, Jake. It's Suzi. I'm too small for a name like Susanne."

"I've always thought that Susanne was too small a name for you. You are one of the most intense people I've ever known."

Suzi blushed a deep crimson and tried to hide her face behind her hair. It doesn't work too well when your hair is only chin length, and you've got bangs at that.

Jake smiled. He actually smiled.

He reached up and brushed a few stray locks out of her face, and then tilted her chin up to look at him. "Susanne, I'm not sure if I'll ever feel worthy of even this, but I'll be your friend until you get sick of me. I'm sorry I left so suddenly."

Suzi threw her arms around his neck and gave him a hug.

"I'll wear you down eventually, you know? I haven't given up on you and me being a couple."

"I know, and I appreciate it. I need to make sure that I'm alright alone before I inflict my problems on anyone else."

I looked at the time on my cell, and realized that Gretchen would be home from church soon. "You ok if I leave you here, Jake? Gretchen will be home soon."

"Go on, Keith. I'll be okay."

"You sure?" I looked him in the eyes, trying to see if he was telling me the truth.

"I'm not saying goodbye for now, Keith. I'll see you later."

"Ok," I said with a smile, and then let myself out of the house.

The rest of the day I spent with Gretchen and her father. Jordan arrived a little after seven, and joined in the family time at that point. Looking at them, I realized that Tom and Jordan really were perfectly matched as few couples are. They complemented each other in all the right places.

Their personalities had large areas of commonality, and equally large differences.

No, I'm not saying that they were perfect, but they were trying, and I guess that's all anyone can ask.

The rest of us just have to work a little harder to get to where they naturally went.

The next day dawned clear, bright, and hot. I had nothing planned for most of the day, so I swam with Gretchen until I hear the doorbell ring. Not wanting to drip on the carpeting I went around the side of the house to see who it was.

Jake, happier than the last time I'd seen him on the porch, and Susanne. He was holding her hand.

I looked at that and raised an eyebrow.

Jake shrugged, "she insisted. It doesn't mean we're a couple, but you know. . .things like this sometimes happen."

"What, you hold your best friend's hand while she beams at the world and looks like the cat that ate the canary?"

"It's not like I kissed her."

"Yet."

"Whatever. Did you two bring swimsuits?"

In answer Susanne shifted her shirt aside to show the strap of her bikini. I let Jake through the gate, but I stopped Susanne to talk to her a moment.

"Sooz, I'm not sure if this is the best thing for him at the moment."

"What are you talking about, Keith?"

"Don't push this. He really needs some help. Look, while he's depressed like this it isn't a good idea for him to make any big life changing decisions. Neither you nor he will like where you end up because of it."

"But I love him, Keith. I really do."

"Then be there for him. Not for you."

"It hurts to see him like this, Keith. I want to fix it all. Make him better."

I brought her into a hug. I was more free with those since I started putting Desdemona on. "I know, Sooz. I know. Look, why don't I see if Dr. Allen has any spots to talk to Jake. If not, I'll get the name of a good therapist for him to talk to."

She nodded silently at me, and then wiped away the few tears she'd shed.

"Let's go swimming, huh?" I said as I started walking toward the back of the house.

"Susanne!"

"Gretchen!"

"Guess what?"

"Um...you're swimming?"

Gretchen, ever the tease, just held her left hand up next to her face and shook her head.

"You're. . ." her eyes grew large and a smile spread across her face when she saw the ring, "ENGAGED!!"

Gretchen nodded and the two of them began engaging in girl talk at the side of the pool.

Jake came over to me, subdued as I was beginning to realize was his new 'neutral'. "You?" he asked, gesturing with his head toward Gretchen.

"Yep."

"Congratulations," he said with a little half smile.

"Thanks," I said with a big one.

"So, the hair?"

"Yeah, pink."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. Like it."

"Um. . .this?"

"Guy time."

"Got it."

So, for those of you who don't speak adolescent male, let me translate:

Jake: So, you finally proposed to Gretchen, huh
Me: Yes. I figured it was the right time, and even if I'm a little young we can work things out.
Jake: Well, Congratulations, Man. You two make a perfect couple.
Me: Thanks. I really appreciate that
Jake: Changing the subject because I'm uncomfortable expressing my feelings, you actually went and altered your hair style?
Me: Yeah, as you noticed, it's pink just like Desdemona's.
Jake: Sorry you're inflicted with such girly hair.
Me: Don't worry about it. I kind of like it and it is so much easier than the wig I had before.
Jake: You don't mind that we're not delving into our emotions and only talking in short monosyllables and grunts?
Me: That's what guy time is for and the reason I will be a guy for many years to come.
Jake: I understand you completely and agree with you there. I love being a guy too.

We spend the rest of the afternoon in or around the pool. About twenty minutes after Jake and Susanne arrived, Rachel appeared out of nowhere, handed me a bottle of SPF 90 sunscreen, and then disappeared again.

I'm beginning to think she's part ninja or something. She is definitely good at her job, I think.

So, warmed and funned out, we got ready to go to my Mom's fourth of July concert on the fifth. Yeah, that's what they were calling it.

It was pretty standard fare as far as music goes. Some Sousa. Okay, a lot of Sousa. You know the ones, as they're always played and sung around the fourth of July.

And then the day was over.

Dr. Allen would be talking to Jake in the morning the next day, and I had no plans whatsoever for the next week. . .

That is until I realized I had a dual audition with Juilliard in one week.

I looked up the requirements for composition, and realized I had my work cut out for me. I had composed for multiple instruments before, but this? This would be really difficult.

Ok, so I started with voice, because if I was going to do it, I wanted to be able to sing it later.

Nothing would come to me. I would have moments when I couldn't get words out of my head, and now I couldn't even put two words together.

After ruining an entire legal pad with doggerel, I got out my sheet music, and began stringing notes together.

I could almost hear the music as I put it to paper. Piano, 12-String, Bass, Percussion. . .I worked my way through a small orchestra. 2 violins and a viola. Oboe. I could hear the sounds I wanted. I knew where they would come in and where they would leave. Alto and Tenor sax. Clarinet. Bamboo flute.

I had so much there, and I needed to hear it, not just imagine it.

I looked at the time and realized my Mom wouldn't be home for another hour or so, so I snuck in to my old house, and snagged one of the favorite computer programs I'd ever found. It was a little program called Noteworthy.

Primarily it is a program for writing, and printing, sheet music. It also included a midi converter, though.

Now, if you've never heard midi music, then you're not missing much. However, it would give me an idea of what it sounded like and I would be able to adjust the notes a lot more easily.

By the time I was done, I had fourteen instruments plus a voice line with no words. Total run time was just under fourteen minutes.

Now, this wasn't a single day's undertaking, let me tell you. I worked from the time I realized I needed to prepare on Tuesday morning, all the way until late Thursday night.

But it was perfect, or as perfect as I could make it.

It wasn't a complete symphony, but at least it was mine, and it was done.

I printed off the tabs for the songs I would need to practice for my guitar audition and went to bed.

I'm pretty sure that Gretchen was feeling neglected, because on Friday morning, when I started practicing, she came out and just hugged me from behind.

"Hey, babe."

"How much longer you going to be?"

"Well, I have my songs to work on for my audition on Tuesday with Juilliard. What did you have in mind?"

"You in mind."

She gently removed my guitar from my hands and placed it on the stand. Then she climbed into my lap. It started oh so slow, and we never removed any of our clothing, but it made her happy. No, there was no petting involved.

She just wanted to know I still considered her the center of my universe. When she was sure of that, she left me to my practicing.

She had a contented smile as she left me to my work. I think she'd noticed the state of my jeans since she had been sitting on them.

I did some breathing exercises and got back to my practicing.

Saturday was more of the same, without the interlude with Gretchen

I never listened to the American Top 40. It wasn't my scene, but that didn't stop me from tuning in this morning. It was the first full week since my single was recorded and distributed, and I wanted to hear how well it did.

I have to admit that I actually liked some of the songs that were there. Not all of them mind you, but enough that it wasn't torture.

I figured that I would be lucky to beat the thirty spot, so when that one came and went. I was seriously thinking about just turning it off at that point.

Stubbornness kept me listening though, and I finally heard my song not much later.

"With her first single, at number twenty-five, I give you Desdemona and 'Daddy's Little Princess'."

It was the full length version of the song, for which I was grateful. After the song finished I turned off the radio.

It had been a long road to this point. There was so much more in store for me, but the difficulties I'd overcome made it all worth it.

Now, if only I could pass one or both of my auditions with Juilliard.

Edited by the ever patient Julia Phillips.