Princess for Hire

By Melanie Ezell

Daniel Henderson has managed to beat the odds and been accepted into Kingston Academy, one of the best private high schools in the country. However, when Daniel is invited to take part in a special program, he learns that there's more to the school than he had thought...

NOTE: This story is loosely -- as in VERY loosely -- based on the manga/anime "Princess Princess." After the initial concept, any similarities are mostly coincidental, unless they aren't. (Puzzle that out why don't ya.)

Part 2: The Birth of a Princess

-4-

Back in my room, I took a look at myself in the mirror as I contemplated what I had just volunteered to do. It wouldn't be all that hard, would it? Wear a skirt once in a while, maybe do some cheering at the sports games -- would they want me to wear a cheerleader uniform? I shivered at the thought, but steeled myself. I had volunteered for this after all, and even though Mr. Uchiha had told me I could quit at any time if it became too much, I was determined not to fail.

Of course, I knew it wouldn't be that easy. If I wanted to do this right, there would be a lot more to it than just wearing a skirt and prancing around the campus. But then again, I knew I had a secret weapon as well.

Students weren't allowed to have their own phones in their rooms, and as of yet I hadn't been assigned a laptop, so my only options were the phones in the lobby of the dorms. I crossed my fingers before leaving my room, hoping nobody would hear what I had to say.

Luckily, there was no one at the phones, and I was free to talk without disturbance or distraction. I dialed the number, and after only two or three rings I heard the click of the receiver being picked up.

"Henderson speaking, can I help you?"

"Hi, dad."

"Danny! Calling so soon? Do I need to come get you?"

"No, dad," I laughed. "Things are fine. I just wanted to ask you some advice."

"Sure thing, what's up?"

"Well..." I hesitated. "I need some advice on being a girl."

"What?!" This time it was his turn to laugh, and I felt myself blush again as he cackled. "I appreciate that you want to follow in my footsteps, but really, school isn't-"

"Dad! It's not that! It's just..." I sighed, and began to explain the entire story to him. Occasionally he would "hmm" or chuckle softly, but not once did he stop me until the end. "And that's why I need your help, since you're, you know."

"A drag queen," he finished for me, with a sigh of his own. "Danny, I wish I could help you, but I don't think it'd do you much good."

"Why not?"

"Because what you're asking me is nothing like what I do."

"It isn't?"

"No, not at all. You're wanting to know how to pass as a girl, and all I would be able to tell you is how to play act as one."

"What's the difference?" I asked, confused.

My dad laughed again. "The difference is that I don't try to be a woman when I dress up. I'm a man, and even when I'm dressed as a woman I look like a man. That doesn't bother me, because that's what I want. I dress up in exaggerated makeup and flashy clothes as a parody of the over the top femininity of glamor models and actresses, then I perform on stage. It's all camp, and it's all in fun, but nobody expects me to actually pass as a woman." He paused for a moment, and I felt myself slump as I realized my dad, who even after he came out as gay and divorced my mom had always been my hero, might not be able to help me.

"Alright dad, sorry to bother you."

"That's okay, Dan, call me any time. I dunno about this school you're at, though; that's a pretty odd thing to ask students to do. But, if you wanna do it, I'll agree to let you. I'll tell you what, I'll check around with the other girls and see if any of them can help you, okay? Some of them can pass quite well, and might have a few tips."

"Yeah, thanks. Bye, dad."

"Bye, Danny."

I hung up the phone and headed back upstairs, much less sure of myself than I had been before. I don't know what I had thought my dad could do for me, it's not like he could give me some kind of mystic advice that would make things perfect from the word "go," but I had been sure that he would have something that would have helped me.

Back in my room, I flopped on my bed and closed my eyes as I thought. The more I thought about it, the more what my dad said made sense. He could tell me a lot about how to be a drag queen, but neither he nor many of the "girls" he worked with really tried to pass as women. It reminded me of the conversation we'd had the last time I had been up to see him.

"Dad, why do you dress up in girl's clothes?"

"Well, I guess because I enjoy it. It's a lot of fun to get on the stage and sing along to the music, and have everyone in the crowd cheering me on."

"Do you want... to be a girl, dad?"

"Heheh, no, Danny, I'm perfectly happy being a guy. I'm a drag queen, not a transsexual."

"What's a transsexual?"

"That's someone who isn't happy with the body they were born with, and wants to be the opposite sex."

"So there ARE guys who wish they were girls?"

"Uh huh, and the other way around too. You see a few of them at the club; when you're old enough I'll take you there and you can ask some people questions, just promise me you'll be polite, and not bring it up if they don't want to."

"Okay, dad."

That had been a little over three years ago, and since then I had only seen my dad in photos and talked to him on the phone. Even after the custody transfer, I had stayed with my mom until school started because it was cheaper to get to the Academy from there than if I were to travel the two states over to stay with my dad for that time.

So, my dad couldn't help me, but he said that he would see if he knew someone who could. It wasn't great, but it was about the best I could hope for.

I was interrupted in my thoughts by a knock at the door. "Who is it?" I called as I sat up, wiping my eyes.

"It's Leslie, can I come in?"

"The door's open."

The door creaked as she pushed it open and peeked around the frame, grinning. "You okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah, come on in."

She pushed the door the rest of the way in and walked in, looking for a place to sit among my things that I had strewn about the room. "Nice job on the unpacking," she commented. "I didn't know that your desk chair could double as a dresser."

"Oh, ha ha, real funny," I scowled, "I was in the middle of unpacking but I had to take care of something first."

"Oh." She lowered her head and scratched her neck, embarrassed. "Sorry." She gave me a worried look. "Listen, I just wanted to make sure you're really okay with everything that happened earlier. I mean, I kinda ran you into it a bit fast, and-"

I held my hand up to silence her. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry so much."

"Really?" She asked quietly.

"Really really," I agreed, quoting one of my favorite movies.

She looked up and smiled, obviously nervous. "Good. Then... I've got one more favor to ask you."

"Yes, I'll wear the skirt tomorrow. Might as well get it over with."

"No! I mean, that's a good idea, but that's not what I was going to say. I...." She scratched her neck again and pulled down her skirt, fiddling with the hem. "I was wondering if you would... that is, if you would let me... uh-"

I coughed. "Hey, ah, I appreciate it, but I'm not really-"

"Be your big sister?"

"I'm not ready for -- wait, what?"

"Can I be your big sister? All it means is I'm kind of your mentor in the Princess program and stuff. If you say no that's okay."

"Oh. Oh! Yeah! Thanks! That would be great."

Her face brightened as she looked up and smiled. "Awesome! We can start right after dinner." A bell rang at that moment, startling both of us. "Well, speak of the devil! Come on, the cafeteria's great."

With a flounce that was unlike anything I had seen her do so far, she turned around and left my room, pausing just outside the door. "Well, aren't you coming?" She asked impatiently.

"Yeah," I mumbled, and followed her out, locking the door behind me.

-5-

She had most definitely not been lying when she had told me that the food in the cafeteria was great. As a special welcoming meal they had prepared steaks with baked potatoes and a salad bar, and even with so many of us in there at once there was plenty of room and food to go around. We grabbed our trays, and I was about to go searching for a table when Leslie nudged me with her elbow.

"The princesses have our own table over there. Since you're officially one of us now you should join me. Come on!"

It wasn't hard to find the princess table, being the only table with girls in the entire room, but what surprised me was how many girls there were. Girls? Well, Mr. Uchiha had said that the princesses were supposed to be called girls when dressed as such. There were six girls at the table, all laughing and talking to one another, but as Leslie and I approached the table went silent as everyone turned to watch us.

"Everybody, this is our newest Princess, Becky Henderson," Leslie said as she waved her free hand towards me.

Wait a minute! "Becky?"

"Uh, yeah, we all have girl's names we use when we're dressed, and we've already got another Danielle, so since you told me to call you Beck I just figured... is it okay?" She bit her lip as she shrunk away from me.

I gave a sigh of resignation. "I guess. Yeah, it's okay." The tension drained from her face. I turned to the rest of the table and waved nervously. "Hi. I'm Beck... err, Becky."

"Is that short for Rebecca?" One of the girls, dark haired with Asian features, asked with a titter that passed around the table after her..

I shrugged. "Sure, why not."

Another girl, tall and blonde, stood and took the group's attention. "Let's all give a warm welcome to our newest member, girls." She led the others in a short round of applause, leaving me blushing I'm sure a very bright red. She gave me a brilliant smile. "I'm Julie. So, you're the one my brother was telling me about earlier. He said that he thought you'd end up being one of us."

"Brother?"

She nodded. "I'm Andrew's big brother. Well, sister for now, but in our group being someone's big sister has a bit of a different meaning."

"That's what Leslie was telling me earlier," I said, taking a cleared seat between the Asian girl and a girl with short brown hair pulled back by a headband. "She said it's something like a mentor?"

"You could say that," she agreed. "Big sisters help their little sisters to learn everything they need to know to do their best in the Princess program, everything from makeup on up. I'm guessing she already asked if she could be your big sister?" I nodded. "Good. Leslie was one of the first Princesses the school had, so she should be able to teach you a lot of useful things. Since you're the first freshman to be chosen as a Princess this year, we'll all try and help out too until we get our own little sisters."

I looked around the table. "So there's gonna be like six more of us?"

Julie laughed. "Nope! They decided when they started this whole thing that there would be no more than five princesses in each grade. Actually, the first year they only let there be five princesses all together, and they only let freshmen join -- that's why Leslie was one of the first." She gestured towards Leslie, who shrugged and grinned. "So was Sarah, but she's a bit of a special case." This time she waved her hand towards the Asian girl next to me, who began to blush. "The other three from their year have quit."

"I wasn't asked, I volunteered," she told me, I guess seeing the curiosity in my face. "I always wanted to be a girl, so... uh, yeah."

"Oh," I stammered, a little surprised. "Do all of you want to be girls? Er, real girls? You know what I mean."

Both Julie and Leslie began to laugh, but Leslie recovered first. "Nah. Don't get me wrong, it's a lot of fun doing all the dressing up and stuff, but I like being a guy."

"Me, too," Julie said. "It's just a job for me, though it is one I enjoy. But, at the end of the day most of us are more than happy to change into our normal clothes, with one or two exceptions."

"I just wasn't sure," I said. "You all seem so girly, no offense."

"It took a while to learn," Leslie explained, "but it really is all a part of the job. Now I actually have to watch myself sometimes when I'm in my normal clothes to make sure I'm not using my Princess mannerisms." She sounded less than happy about it.

"But enough talking," Julie interrupted with a clap, "there's plenty of time for that after lunch."

The rest of the table heartily agreed, and most conversation ceased as we ate our meals. In addition to Leslie, Julie, and Sarah, I also met Danielle (the brown haired girl with the headband,) Kylie (another blonde with short shaggy hair and a longish nose) and Amanda, a very tall African American who talked as little as possible, mostly because she had a very deep bass voice that contrasted harshly with her appearance. I couldn't remember the other girl's name, but I was sure I would learn it eventually.

I listened throughout the meal as the girls around me talked. I still don't know exactly what I had been expecting, but it was interesting to hear the conversations around me. There was the normal talk of games and classes, and in addition there were the discussions on clothes and makeup. After a while, I began to tell by listening to the conversations exactly who around me were really into the girl thing and who saw it more as a job. Those who enjoyed it shared constant tips with me on how to dress or act, and their enjoyment of being a girl was evident in their voices, while the ones who were just doing it for the money stared on with bored looks, only chipping in when asked a direct question before going back to their own discussions. Leslie seemed to lie somewhere in the middle, really enjoying some elements of the girl lessons I was receiving while looking bored during others.

The hour the school had set aside for dinner was gone in a flash for me, and before I knew what was going on Leslie had grabbed my arm and began to drag me towards the exit, barely taking the time to drop off our trays and dishes on the way out.

"Come on," she said, "we need to get as much time training you in tonight as we can so you'll be ready for classes tomorrow."

"You mean I'll be starting so soon?" I asked, surprised. In truth, I guess I had been expecting it, but I had hoped I would at least have an hour or two to prepare myself before being dumped right in the thick of it.

"Of course! All the Princesses dress up every day for the first week to help get the rest of the students used to us being here. Normally no new freshman Princesses would join us until after the first week was up and they had been given a chance to warm to the idea, but you're a special case."

"Yay for me."

She stopped and spun around, giving me a hard look. "Alright, that's enough. If you're gonna do this, do it, but if all you're gonna do is complain or mope about, then--"

"Okay! Sorry!" I backed off, raising my hands in defense. "I'm sorry, okay? Today's just been kind of stressful."

She nodded. "I gotcha. Now come on," she said with a grin, "let's make you beautiful!"

I couldn't help but whimper in reply.

-6-

"So, what do ya think?"

I looked at myself in the mirror, studying my face carefully.

"Well?"

"They never let the girls at my old school wear half this much makeup." I gave myself another glance, and cringed again. "I look like a hooker."

"Hmm," Leslie hummed to herself as she studied her work, turning my head from side to side. "Maybe you're right. I might have overdid it a bit. I'm just so used to doing my own face I just assumed you'd need the same kind of treatment."

This time I looked carefully at her face, trying to see what she was talking about. "You don't look like you're wearing this much makeup," I said jealously, wanting nothing more than to run to the bathroom and wash the heavy gunk off my face.

Leslie snorted. "That's because I know how to do my face right. Beard cover, blusher, foundation, everything I have I bought to improve the illusion, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't work right on your face because I don't have the right colors, and, uh..."

"What?"

She blushed. "Well, don't take this the wrong way, but I only know how to do makeup to make a guy look like a girl. I don't know how to do normal makeup, and you don't need as much as I do." She shrugged when she saw the outrage on my face. "I'm sorry, but it's the truth!"

"Bruise my ego a little more, why don't you," I sneered, glaring at her.

She seemed about ready to explode herself, when her eyes grew wide. "I know! Sarah might be able to help you out! She does this stuff all the time, I'm sure she would know what to do." She rushed out of the room, yelling "I'll be right back!" just as she slammed the door behind her, leaving me alone with my overly done up reflection.

It really wasn't that bad a job, to be honest -- it was simply too much for my face. Dark blue eyeshadow, with lots of rouge on my cheeks, and a ton of eyeliner added up to give me a very dramatic look, but not one that would ever be considered appropriate for school, and even with my almost complete lack of experience in makeup I could tell by the feel that it was caked on very thick over my entire face.

I was almost ready to give up and begin looking for something to begin the removal process when the door to my room opened and in walked Leslie again, followed closely by Sarah, who took one look at my face and began to laugh hysterically.

"I didn't think I did THAT badly," Leslie pouted as she crossed her arms, obviously upset by Sarah's reaction.

Sarah gave my face a closer examination, touching it here and there occasionally while making "tsk tsk" noises. "This is all wrong for her face. There's too much here, and it's the wrong colors too. Does she look like a Barbie doll to you?"

Leslie shrank back, shaking her head in the negative.

"Of course not." Finally, Sarah's frown began to ease, and with a look of determination she reached for Leslie's makeup case. "Let's see what I can do."

It was the better part of an hour later when Sarah gave a final flourish of her lip gloss brush and pronounced me done. I could tell by the satisfied look on her face and the expression of shock on Leslie's that I must have looked better, but nothing could have prepared me for when she spun me around to face the mirror.

"Wow," I heard myself whisper as I stared on in wonder at Sarah's work. Gone was the thick layer of goop and gunk and the overdone coloring, and in its place was, well, ME, only better. Well, better if I were a girl, anyhow. I reached up and felt my face, amazed.

"Now THAT is how makeup's supposed to be done," Sarah said proudly as she packed the various brushes and pots away. "You can thank me later; I'm going to bed, and I suggest you two do too. It's a big day tomorrow!"

"We will, as soon as Becky gets cleaned up," Leslie said, shaking Sarah's hand. "Thanks."

"No problem. She should be able to do it herself tomorrow, but as soon as she gets her town pass she needs to get her own makeup. I can give her some of my extras for now, but it really isn't good to use other people's makeup."

"Town pass?" I asked, but Sarah was already out the door. "Town pass?" I repeated, this time directing the question at Leslie, who had a bit of a far away look in her eyes.

"Hmm? Oh, all the students can schedule a pass into town once a month to pick up anything they need that isn't available at the on campus store. One of the perks of being a Princess is that you get priority when it comes to trips into town over most of the other students, except for seniors and those with medical needs."

"That makes sense," I said, pondering her answer as I admired my face some more in the mirror. "You know, this Princess thing seems to be awful expensive for the school to do. How did Mr. Uchiha convince them to let him do it?"

Leslie sat on the edge of my bed and thought for a moment before answering. "Well, if I remember right then the sports teams have all done a lot better ever since the Princess program started, and from what I hear all the guys on the teams say it's because having pretty girls cheer for them motivates them to win. And even though the school is boys only, it's been a tradition of the school for as long as anybody can remember to try and promote equality and acceptance, and I think they are using this as a way to do that as well. After all, you definitely can't judge someone for something like being a woman trapped in a man's body when your alma mater is an all boys school where part of the campus is in skirts," she laughed as she picked at the hem of said garment. "Not only that, but the headmaster already told you about how big he is into anime and all that stuff. From the way I've heard it, it was either this or he was going to ask them to build a martial arts dojo on campus and hire senseis to train us in a few different arts, and the school council decided that so long as it was a student's choice this would require less permits and less liability. Of course, since his father owns the school grounds that made it a lot easier for him to get his way."

"I would imagine," I said, grinning as I wiped the last of the grime from my face. Even without it, though, there was something different about my appearance. The slightest touch of mascara had remained, and that was more than enough to shift my looks from the boy I had always seen myself as to "Becky," the school princess, and I found myself confused, scared, and a little excited all at the same time. "Still, it's a lot of money to throw into something so, so...."

"Stupid? Weird? Abnormal?"

"Experimental," I said, with a shrug.

"Maybe," she said, thoughtful, "but if they wanna give me money for doing it I'll take it over scrubbing toilets or trimming the hedges any day of the week."

"Amen to that!" I agreed heartily.

"Well, I'm going to bed. I'll come by in the morning to help you with things, alright?"

"Sure thing. Good night," I said, offering Leslie my hand for a shake.

"Good night," she said, grinning, "and have fun being a princess!"

Despite my nervousness, I was sure I would.

(end of part 2)

END NOTE: I know that in my blog entry I said I'd post this on Mondays and other stuff most likely on Thursdays, but a fit of sanity made me realize that I am always far too busy on Mondays to post ANYTHING, little lone a chapter of a story every week! So, I figured y'all would prefer a day early over a day late. However, be forewarned, the next part WILL NOT be out until next Sunday.

Again, if you comment, more will come. IF YOU COMMENT, MORE WILL COME.