Scenes from the past and present with impact on the future, a wedding dress is worn, and Keith get's his old job back, in a manner of speaking.

My Mom threw me out for being Desdemona, a Goth rocker. I am a legally emancipated 16 year old, and living at my girlfriends house. The rest of my Mom's family supports me. We uploaded a song and video to iTunes, but due to a mix-up we ended owing more money than we made. Luckily a video uploaded to the same place saved us from having to pay over thirty thousand dollars out of pocket.

Summer time! Ok, so in my rush to finish last time, I neglected to mention that my nemesis now has a #1 hit single. Ok, so she's not really my nemesis, especially since she has no idea that I exist, but I always wondered what it would be like to have one. A nemesis that is.

I finished up with school and figured that it would be a great time to get back to my job at the Hot Topic. They'd said that i always had a job there when I wanted it, so I'd planned to head up on Thursday morning to make sure that the offer still held. When you're a rock star, plans change.

My phone rang just as I was about to head out the door.

"Desi? How soon can you meet me in Salt Lake?"

"Um, a couple of hours, why?"

"Well, specifically I need you to meet me at the airport."

Ok, what's going on?

"We need Jake and Bobby as well?"

"Not necessary, but definitely useful. A label contacted me this morning about you."

"Um."

"Ok, it was about the band, but you specifically. They want to see you yesterday, but will settle for this afternoon."

"And we're meeting at the airport, because. . .?"

"Their office is in Nashville."

"They realize I'm not even a little bit country?"

A chuckle over the phone and then Richard continued, "Yes, they know that. They want to see you."

"Ok, well, since I need to get ready I don't have enough time, so could you give the boys a call? Thanks."

Crap, a long plane flight, humid environment, looks like I get to take a purse with me. Oh goody. . .but how else do I take all my makeup with me without looking out of place. I was definitely going to need a touchup or two before this was over.

Gretchen was at her therapists again, so I raided her makeup table and then closet. Have I mentioned before that being the same size as my girlfriend creeps me out a bit? After picking an outfit, it was back to the bathroom to shave again, face for once, and other places. I got dressed in a simple black dress, took a moment to adjust the false breasts, touched up my makeup and ran out the door. And then ran back in, as I was missing two items: The pink wig and the boots.

Then I thought to go into Tom's study.

"Tom, I have a flight to Nashville I have to be on. Do you still want me to just drive your car, or could I get a ride to the airport?"

"I'll drive you. I take it you're ready to go now?"

"Yep."

We went out and got into his Aston, this time I had the passenger seat.

"This brings back memories. Last time I saw that wig it was on my daughter. Of course then I simply thought it was a phase."

"Well, I'm not like your daughter, you know that, right?"

"I know. It's just a little nostalgia on my part. You don't act the way that Gretchen did, even back then. I'm not saying you're a Neanderthal, or a burly football player or something. You're just masculine. I don't know how to describe it better than that."

"I know a big burly Football player, and she's a lot less masculine than I am."

"She? How did that happen?"

"Apparently she's had problems since she was a little girl, only her father saw her as she physically was, a boy. He pushed her into sports and such."

"How did you meet her?"

"One of those random series of events that seem to plague my life right now."

Tom chuckled a bit at that. "Why are you off to Nashville?"

"Apparently a label out there wants to do a demo tape with Up in Flames."

"I hope that works out for you, Keith. I want you to be able to support my little girl when you guys get married."

Ok, so I deserved that. I'd been the first one to suggest it to him after all.

"Yeah, I care enough for your daughter to wear a dress."

We both laughed at this. I really liked Tom. I think he would have fit well into my family. Family, oh crap.

"Hey Tom? I made a promise before we found out your wife died, and I just haven't thought about it until now."

My nervousness got his attention, "don't worry about it, Keith. It's not like you killed her or anything."

"Jordan wants you to take her on a date, and wanted me to pass on the information. It was more of a joke and such before, since you weren't divorced or anything. . ."

"Actually, Keith, I'll let you in on a little secret. My divorce was finalized about two years ago. Jordan and I have been dating pretty much steadily since then."

Ok, sometimes learning that the entire world doesn't revolve around you is a bit of a shock. I mean, people having entire lives outside of your sight or understanding? Crazy talk.

"Is it serious?"

"Yes, it is. A lot of the joking she was doing was for Gretchen's benefit to sound her out. I've asked her to marry me, and I just don't know how to bring it up to Gretchen. She didn't even know her Mom and I got divorced."

"If it's not too personal, could you tell me why?"

"Her Mom wanted to prevent Gretchen from becoming the woman she's always been. When I got a court order preventing her from doing anything about it she stopped taking her medication and had a psychotic break."

"When was she diagnosed?"

"With Schizophrenia? She started having hallucinations when she was pregnant with Gretchen. She was convinced that a parasite was inside her and she even tried to cut her out. I called an ambulance and they were rushed to the hospital. They had to deliver her immediately, since the cut had entered the uterus and pierced the amniotic sac. Gretchen was just barely able to breathe on her own. Her mom was hospitalized for two years that time."

He was a little choked up thinking about the past. He looked intently at me. "Did I ever tell you how grateful I was that you befriended Gretchen so quickly after we moved here?"

"Why would you be grateful?"

"Did Gretchen ever tell you why we moved here?"

"She mentioned something about making a fresh start, and I always assumed, when she told me, that it had to do with her condition."

"That's only partially true. I know she always meant to tell you the whole truth, but I think she was always a bit embarrassed about her past."

"But why?"

"Because she wasn't always the person you know now."

"I can handle the fact that people thought she was a boy."

"No, that's not what I meant. I'll just tell you about it."
***
Thane looked into his closet. He had a division in it. On the left were the few male clothes that he had to hang up: a couple of button shirts for church, a couple of pants for the same. On the right were his dresses and skirts and button blouses. He would have loved to go shopping with his mom, since that's what mothers and daughters were supposed to do.

Thane didn't think of himself as male. When he thought about it at all, he saw himself as female. He hadn't told anyone but his Daddy about it, and he wasn't sure his Daddy really understood. He had some makeup that he'd spent a long time gathering. Not the over-the-top Goth makeup he had all over the place on his makeup table. These were more muted colors, fit to his coloration. The Goth thing had let him hide in a crowd, yet be himself. He was finally ready to show his family who he really was.

They'd sent him upstairs to get changed so that the three of them could go out to dinner and a movie. They'd been planning this for months for his birthday. He was turning fifteen today.

He decided that fifteen was enough years for his boy self to have lived. He'd been planning this almost as long as the three of them planned the party. His parents had asked him a number of times if he wouldn't prefer to have some of his friends join him for the festivities.

The Goth crowd weren't really his friends. They were all alone in a group of people. His only real friends were his cousins. The four of them went to the same school. He wasn't ready to show his cousins who he felt he was yet. They still thought that the Goth thing was a bit weird.

"Thane, you coming down?"

"I'll be there in a minute, Dad." He only called his dad 'Daddy' in the safety of his own thoughts. He grabbed a white blouse and a blue skirt. He'd shaved his legs earlier in the day in preparation, and made sure to wear pants, even thought the summer was warm for LA.

He put on a pair of blue flats he'd gotten to match the skirt and sat down at the makeup table. He'd been letting his hair grow out, and it barely fit into the high pony tail. He didn't dare do anything with his eyebrows in the limited time that he had, so he put on his makeup with a practiced hand, slapped on some lip gloss, and went downstairs.

"Mom, Dad?"

"So, is Desdemona coming with us tonight," her dad asked with a little smile.

"No, this is just me. This is the real me. Oh, I don't know how to say it. I don't feel like a boy."

"Thane Ethan Anderson, you march back upstairs this minute and put on some real clothing. I did not raise my boy to be a cross-dressing faggot."

"Amy, language!"

"Well, it's true, isn't it, Tom? Our boy isn't going to go around kissing other boys dressed like a trollop."

"First off, I think what she said is she thinks she's our daughter. Second, she looks very presentable, and could go to church dressed like that."

When her Daddy said this last part, she got a big smile on her face. The thought of showing the world who she really was made her heart flutter. She needed to do this.

"Church? What would our friends say?"

"That we have a beautiful daughter."

"They know we have a son."

"Well, they'll get used to it. So, my dear," Tom said turning to her, "did you know that we planned on calling you Gretchen Marie if you'd been born looking like a girl? Think you could live with that name?"

Gretchen made a bit of a face at the name, but Tom only laughed. "What, you thought you'd get to pick your own name? That's a parents prerogative. So, girls, are we ready to go out?"

"I refuse to be seen in public with my son in a dress."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Amy. Guess it's just you and me tonight, Gretchen. Our first father/daughter date."

Tom looked sadly at the retreating back of his wife for a moment, but then turned a beaming smile to his new daughter.
***
"You certainly seemed very understanding of Gretchen."

"It's the storyteller's prerogative to make themselves seem better than they actually are."

"You are certainly using that word a lot today."

He looked at me strangely for a moment, and then continued, "I didn't even know what it meant to be transgendered at that point. I still mostly thought this was a sort of phase. I wanted to be supportive, though, so I was willing to let it slide.

"Gretchen had a fairly normal summer, except she was dressed as a girl for all of it. We had her talk to a number of psychologists before we found one who even understood what was going on. When we finally figured it out, Gretchen's mom flipped. She started legal proceedings to prevent me from having any choice in our daughter's life.

Nothing had been resolved before she went back to school. I'd already informed the school of her decision to go back as a girl, and the principal had agreed to allow it. Of course, he had no real choice."
***
She took a couple of deep breaths to steady her nerves. The butterflies in her stomach seemed to be multiplying at an alarming rate. She'd worn a pair of hip hugger jeans and a tee-shirt in a feminine color and style. She wanted to fit in and disappear more than stand out. She'd been very careful with her makeup and hair this morning. Everything was as perfect as she could make it.

"Here, let me get that for you. New girl?"

She looked at the boy who'd stepped around her to open the door and nearly died right there. It was Larry Garcia. She'd had a crush on him for about a year.

"Not exactly new. Not exactly old."

"Ah, cryptic are we. Let's see. . .hm. Old person with a new look?"

She mutely nodded.

"Ah, so someone who blossomed over the summer. You didn't have pimples and greasy hair last year did you?"

She shook her head.

"Braces? Glasses? New hair color?"

Three successive shakes.

"This is a hard one. I really can't place you."

"We had lots of classes together. English, Geometry, History, and Gy. . ."

She shut up, but he puzzled what she'd been about to say through.

"We were in Gym together? But that would mean you were a boy, and there's no way you would look this good. . .wait, Thane!?"

She was on the verge of tears. She'd been found out before she even entered the school. How was she going to last the day.

"Wow. You look good. Wait, don't cry." He put his arm around her shoulders. "Look, I'm sure you didn't know this, but I'm the head of the LGTB club on campus. I only say that because you never came to any of our meetings."

"There's an LGTB club?"

Larry laughed. "Yeah. There were only four students in it, and I think the only reason that Sarah and Julie came was to make out in a safe environment."

"Sarah Genaro, the head cheerleader?"

"Yep, her and Julie Harkham. So, I assume that you are transgendered?"

"Yeah." She said in a quiet voice.

"Well, what's your new name, since I can't keep calling you Thane."

"Gretchen."

"So, if you don't want to answer, that's fine, but are you a lesbian or are you straight. Look, never mind. None of my business. I should be more tolerant of others."

She boggled at him a moment, but then blushed and looked at the ground when it dawned on her what he was asking.

"I'm straight."

"That's excellent! Would you mind going on a date with me on Friday?"

She looked at him in surprise. "But. . ."

"Oh, no, I started the club to show solidarity with my Dads. I still have trouble understanding it all, but I'm trying and that's what counts."

He reached out his hand toward her, "Shall we?"

She grabbed his hand and they entered the school.
***
She was sitting in her afternoon English class when she felt someone touching her hair. She spun around, but the person behind her was trying to look innocent. She turned back forward and he yanked on her hair.

"Ow!"

"Well, at least that's real."

There was general laughter from the class. She slapped him. "How dare you!."

"That's enough from you, Mr. Anderson."

"But, he. . ."

"I don't care. I consider your dress and appearance enough cause for anyone."

She got up and ran from the classroom in tears.
***
"How could a teacher even consider doing something like that?"

"He didn't for long. I made a call that afternoon to the school board, informing them that this behavior was unacceptable. They saw my side of things and they moved the teacher to a menial job in the district office."

"Why didn't they just fire him?"

"You can't fire a teacher with tenure, well, without a criminal act."
***
She was walking down the hall when she was pushed violently from behind. She picked herself up off the ground, straightened her skirt and tried to brush herself off. She heard the sound of fist on flesh and turned around. Larry had decked one of the football players.

"Hey, jerk, you don't hit girls."

"That's no girl."

Larry punched him in the gut. "Don't insult the lady."

"Screw you, fag!"

Larry laughed at him, "See, you can actually attack someone of your gender."

The football player threw a punch at him, but Larry sidestepped and tripped him. One of the other football players decided to step in, and was going to punch Larry from behind.

"Behind you!"

Larry stepped to the side and kicked out to the side. He caught the second guy in the gut as well. The coach walked up. "Break this up, Boys!"

"Larry started it."

"That's not true, Coach Nelson. Joe pushed Gretchen, and so Larry decked Joe. Then Mike attacked Larry from behind."

The coach looked at the other student, and then all the people involved.

"Joe, Mike, Larry. You get to go with me to the principal's office. You know there's no fighting in school, even if it is after school hours. Joe, by the way. You're off the football and wrestling teams, and I expect a transfer form in my office tomorrow morning because you're no longer welcome in weightlifting. You don't attack girls, period."

The coach looked at Gretchen with a slight smile on his face, "Don't you have a club to get to?"
***
"Wait, didn't she wear pants that first day?"

"Yes, but this event didn't even happen that same month. I'm giving you an overview."

"Ok, a little warning would have been good."

"Sorry. I expected you to ask me about the coach."

"Why would I have done that. It didn't seem noteworthy."

"Well, I guess it just did to me. I'd cleared his brother's name of a murder rap, and so when he found out about Gretchen he told me he'd keep an eye out."

Keith looked out the window for a bit, watching the buildings on the side of the road go by.

"She had it hard?"

"It was a mix. Her Mom stopped talking to her after the first month or so."

"What happened after the court told her that she couldn't stop Gretchen?"
***
All of the lights in the house were off, and the blinds were drawn.

"Thane, is that you, Baby?"

Gretchen moved quietly into their living room. Her mother was at the front blinds looking through a crack.

"They want to take you away from me, Thane, but I won't let them. They want to turn you into a girl, isn't that funny? Like you could ever be the changeling. I cut the germ out before you were born. I saved you, Thane."

Amy walked over to her and pulled her to the ground next to the wall. "I couldn't find all the cameras, so I turned off the power to the house. They might have some night vision cameras on battery. Didn't think of that. What do I do about night vision cameras, Thane? You'll help your Mommy, right, Baby? You'll tell me where they put the cameras?"

"There aren't any cameras."

"No, no no no no! That's what they want you to tell me. Tell me the truth, sweetheart. Mommy won't be mad."

Her mother was still holding onto her wrist, and gripping it tighter and tighter.

"You're hurting me, Mommy."

"There there, sweetie, don't worry. Mommy's going to make it all better as soon as you tell me where the cameras are."

Gretchen tried to get free and struggled a bit. Amy stopped. "What's that smell. Is that perfume? Have you been with a girl, my little man? Are you growing up already? Do you have a hickey? Let's get a look at you."

Amy pulled apart the curtains a bit and a beam of light fell on Gretchen. "Wait, you're not my Thane. You lied to me. The changeling tricked me all those years ago. You let me think you were dead, and you killed my son. You've taken my son away from me. Well, I know how to kill a changeling."

When Amy took the knife in both hands to strike, Gretchen pulled away, tripping, and got to the door. She ran into the arms of her Daddy, who'd just come through the door.

"Hey, baby. Is there something wrong with the power?"

"Mom's trying to kill me."

"You foul creature. Get away from my husband. You can't have him, Harlot. He's mine."

She lunged at them, but Tom reacted fast enough to get them out into the garage. He got her into the passenger seat, and then got behind the wheel. Amy finally managed to open the door and rushed into the garage before he could get it in gear. She used the knife to break the window and grabbed onto Gretchen's shirt. The force of the car taking off tore it from her grasp. "Call the police, Gretchen." He tossed her his phone.
***
"That's why you moved here?"

"Almost. One more part to tell."
***
The graffiti on her locker was even worse today. Most of it was unintelligible, but fag and queer were there amongst the others. Her cousins were behind the resurgence in hate.

"So, now you have Daddy all to yourself like you wanted. Has he made you a woman yet?"

"You know it isn't a real woman, Carly. It has to take it up the ass."

"Maybe if we cut its balls off it would feel better about itself, Lisa"
***
"Wait, those are Gretchen's cousins."

Tom just nodded sadly and continued with his story.
***
"Carly, Lisa, need some help here?" Joe had conveniently walked up at that moment.

"This thing wants to be a woman, can you help it?"

Gretchen was in shock and could only stare at her cousins like this had to be a dream. She didn't know what to do, and couldn't act at all.

"I have just the tool here." Joe pulled out a four inch knife with a hooked tip. "It's used for gutting fish, but I think we could use it here. Should be about the same thing."

Time seemed to slow down as he walked toward her. Larry came out of nowhere. Big, strong Larry. She smiled before she realized he was charging at Joe. Joe put up his hand to block Larry. They tumbled to the ground and struggled for a moment before Larry went still. Joe pushed him off and then realized he was covered in blood. "Larry? This isn't funny, dude. Get up man."

Gretchen began to scream. She couldn't stop. She collapsed to the ground and screamed and cried until she had no voice left to scream and no tears left to cry. She wouldn't allow anyone to touch her until her father came to get her. He carried her out to the car and took her home. He removed her from school the next day.

They moved the next week. There was a month left of school.
***
"What happened to Joe?"

"Because of his taunting and being suspended for fighting with Larry in the past, Joe was tried as an adult for murder in the second degree. His father actually thought he could pay me enough money to represent his son. He ended up getting a part time ambulance chaser, since none of my colleagues would take the case either. He doesn't get up for parole the first time for another year. Gretchen and I plan on being there to put a face on the victim."

"I'm sorry."

"You've done nothing wrong, Keith. Or should I call you Desi when you look like this?"

I looked at him a bit surprised.

"Yeah, Rick let me know the nickname he gave you."

We were just pulling into the airport at this point. "So, let me know if, and when, you need a ride home."

"Thanks for the ride, Tom. Just for the record? I think you should marry Jordan, and the sooner the better. Two years is long enough."

Tom chuckled as he drove off. I walked into the airport, and realized I only had a general idea of where to go from here. "Desi, over here!"

Jake and Bobby stood with Richard.

"Glad to see you could make it." Richard looked pleased.

"Yeah, finally. Took you long enough, Desi"

"I had to break my third date with Buffy, so I hope this is worth it."

We made our way up the escalator and through security. We were at the end of the concourse, so we hurried to do our final check in. And then we waited.

We were flying business class, so it seemed like everyone else got to load before us. Finally we were on the plane and on our way. Have I mentioned that I've never flown before?

Well, that was my first time. It was cool. I loved every minute of it. . .right up till we went above the cloud cover and hit our cruising altitude. Nothing to see, and a steady cabin make for a boring flight. Especially when the movie is "Hot Tub Time Machine". I listened to the Jazz station and tried to go to sleep.

I was half asleep as I passed through the airport. The label had hired a car service for us, and we got our first limo ride out of it.

"Hey, a mini bar!" Jake said.

"Leave it alone, Jake."

"Come on, Desi. We're rock stars. We need to live a little."

"No, Jake. Desi is right. I need all three of you clear headed for this, and besides, I'd be criminally culpable if any of you got drunk in my presence." He said this with a smile, but I didn't think that this was the main reason he didn't want Jake to drink. I'm thinking it was because he was one of his niece's friends.

The rest of the drive was uneventful.
***
We got out of the limo in front of a nondescript building on the waterfront. We walked inside. There was a receptionist behind the desk who was kind of pretty in a vague sort of way.

"May I help you?"

"Up in Flames," Richard said, "Where here to meet with a Mr. Kondie?"

"Let me check." While that's what she said, mostly she seemed to be chewing her gum like a cow in the field. Eventually she looked back in our direction.

"Yep, I have you here. If you'll just take a seat someone will be down to collect you."

We waited for about half an hour. It was really starting to feel like someone was trying to impress upon us his own self importance. Spotlight Studios had taken us right in, and we hadn't even released a song at that point. I started to get lost in thought, a thought specifically. Paper. I needed paper. "I need paper now."

I could feel the words coming to me. I had to get them down before it drove me insane. I felt a piece of paper thrust into my hands. I wrote myself our before they came down to get us. I had no title for it yet, because it felt incomplete, as if there was more of this story to come.

We were escorted up to the studio. "Hello, people. Nice to meet you." Every word he said rang false to me. "I'm Greg Kondie, and I'm the owner of Riverside Records. So, let's get down to business. Got something new for me? I've heard your cover of 'Bodies' and that song you did for Gothplosion, what was it?"

"'My life with you is Hell'?"

Mr. Kondie choked on that, "Is that the name? Quite a mouthful. Anyway, I've heard that one already, why don't you treat me to something new."

We moved into the sound booth, and I realized they didn't have a 12 string. I walked over to the microphone. "Mr. Kondie? I'm going to need a 12 string to play this song."

"Can you do without it? We have a tight schedule to keep."

Ok, he pissed me off. I picked up the six, since I'd learned the tabs for that before converting it to a 12 string arrangement. You don't piss on me. I turned to Bobby and Jake. "U + UR hand."

I knew that they'd expected to do Black Flag, but their smirks told me that they'd had enough of this prick as well.

The bounce of the beat took me over and I was dancing all over that room. It was really fun taunting the fat man on the other side of the glass. He was getting a bit hot under the collar, and so I milked it for all it was worth. There was no way that I would sign a contract with this guy, but I'd definitely get a demo out of this. I saw the recording light on the wall.

When it was done, I asked, "Could I get a playback of that?" This pissed the suit off, but the sound tech played it back for us. Mr. Kondie walked out of the room shortly after the playback started. It was as perfect as I could have hoped. We'd practiced it enough that we got it in one. It was a little raw, but I think it was good enough for what I wanted,

"Could we get a copy of that, please?"

The tech looked around the booth. Seeing that his boss wasn't in the room, he popped the maser out and walked it in to us.

"Look, for what it's worth, I think what my boss did was pretty rotten. He gets you all to fly out here under false pretenses, and then pulls this stunt."

"Wait what?"

"Crap, I shouldn't have said anything. Just watch yourself."

We all went into the control booth with the tech. I handed the master to Richard just as Mr. Kondie came back in.

"Desdemona, could I have a word with you for a moment?"

He walked ahead of me into the sound booth, and I pointed at the board in front of the tech. He shook his head and I looked at Richard. He gave me a slight nod as I quickly followed Mr. Kondie.

He'd dropped the blinds over the window to the control booth, and when I entered the room he closed and locked the door.

"That wasn't a very nice trick you pulled, Desdemona." He loosened his tie.

"What's going on here, Mr. Kondie?" I had a feeling that I knew exactly what was going on.

"Oh, I think you know. Sexy girl like you."

"I'm only sixteen."

"Even better. You see, this country is looking for people your age right now. I can make you a star, Desdemona. Your talent is obvious."

"Really?" Thank you acting lessons.

"Yes, really." He chuckled at me. It was a really throaty chuckle, and it made me uncomfortable.

"How much do you want this, Desdemona?"

"I want to be a star more than anything, Mr. Kondie."

"That can be arranged then. I just need to see. . .how sexy you can be. Can you show that to me?"

"But I'm only sixteen, Mr. Kondie."

"Girls mature faster than boys, did you know that Desdemona? It's a silly law that treats them both the same. Only a mature woman is ready to be a star. Can you show me you're a woman?"

"I really don't understand what you want, My. Kondie?'

He walked up to me and kissed me. Ok, that was about the sickest thing that ever happened to me. "I want to have sex with you, Desdemona. We can work out your career afterward."

Ok, I was wrong. THAT was the sickest thing that ever happened to me. "You guys have that," I asked, talking into the mic.

Richard came over the studio speakers, "We got that. Ryan has a key to the studio and is unlocking. . .now."

The door clicked and the tech opened the door. As I stepped out, he locked the door again and half turned the key. "Unless you can remove the key, you can't unlock the door from the inside. Mr. Kondie told me about it a couple of months ago. I really didn't know you were underage. All of his other clients have been older. I'm so sorry about that."

"Are you sure they were older?" I asked him. He'd been nice about the master tape, but he did work for that walking pile of puss.

"Oh crap. What am I going to do? I really didn't know. I can't go to jail. I didn't know." I hate to see a grown man cry.

"The police are on their way."

We waited for them to arrive. "He's in here, officers." Ryan unlocked the door. One of the cops stepped closer to Ryan, "We could bring you in for wrongful imprisonment you know?"

"Oh crap. I didn't mean it."

"Officers, give the kid a break. He just found out that he's working for a pedophile."

"Wait, what?"

Richard played back the tape for them. I made it to the point where I heard myself being kissed and dry heaved.

"This is the young lady on the tape then?"

"Ryan warned me that something might be fishy about Mr. Kondie, so I suggested that they record the conversation when he walked voluntarily into the studio."

"I don't know how admissible that tape is, since he had some reasonable expectation of privacy. . ."

"Are you a moron? This is his recording studio!"

The cop glared at me. "Missy, one more outburst like that, and we're going to throw you in jail. We're sorry about the inconvenience, Mr. Kondie."

"Hold it right there, you two. I think that you might want to talk to the person on this phone."

The cop looked at him quizzically, and then barked into the phone, "I don't know who you think you are, but you're inter. . ." His posture changed suddenly, "no, Sir. . .no, Sir. . .no, I mean yes, Sir. . .just a minute, Sir. You're now on speakerphone."

"Since knucklehead A didn't tell knucklehead B who he was talking to, This is Chief Terrell. You two screw ups have the misfortune to have tried to screw with the clients of one of my old college buddies. I owe this man my life, and if he tells me that something happened, you better damn well believe that we're going to investigate, DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!!!!! Oh, and Richard, next time you're in town, bring Daisy by and we can catch up."

One of the officers took the second master, the one with Mr. Kondie on it, while the other handcuffed him. Before leaving the bigger one said, "Since the Chief of Police says you're alright, and has your agents number, you can go."

We headed downstairs. The receptionist was missing. There was no limo waiting for us this time, so we called a cab. More money down the tubes. This would probably be the most expensive demo ever. "Richard, see if we can get some sort of use rights for that song."

Apparently Pink, AKA Alecia Beth Moore, isn't as easy to get in touch with as Drowning Pool was. Sitting in the back of the cab, watching the miles go by, I felt the need to write again. I felt more words of the song coming at me, this time with a bit darker feel to them. One last verse, and an alteration of the chorus and I am done. I put a title on the song: My Own Person (You're Not For Me). Richard was still getting the run around. I called Tom and told him when we would be home.

He said he'd be there to pick me up.

Ok, this has to be a record for poor taste. Same movie on the way back. More Jazz to listen to. When I got out to the loading zone, Gretchen was there to meet me.

I was so happy to see her after my ordeal. It felt like I hadn't seen her in a week. I took her into a hug and kissed her. She blushed at looked around, "Desi!"

Oh, yeah, Utah and I look like a female. I blushed as well. We got in her car and started driving home.

"So, before you tell me about your trip, I have some good news. I got the final green light for Monday. I'm going to have my surgery."

"I'm so happy for you, Etch."

"Is that all you have to say about it?"

"Yes. I'm not old enough to marry you yet."

"Keith!"

"What? You know I want to make you my wife."

"You never even asked me."

"Gretchen, when the time is right, I will definitely ask you."

She blushed at that and I took her hand in mine. Well, at least I didn't scare her off with that.

"Etch, talking of weddings. . ."

"What about them?"

"Um, well, I wanted to talk to you about Jordan and your Dad."

"You mean how they think they are so secretive, but have been dating for a couple of years now?"

"That and. . ."

"How my dad asked her to marry him about four months ago, but they're both too scared to talk to me about it, and I'm letting them both stew?"

"You're cruel, Etch."

"Yes, I am. Very cruel."

"So, can I tell them you're fine with it, and want them both happiness together?"

"Of course you can. Since they are trying to use an intermediary. . ."

"What are you thinking?"

"Tell them I will only agree on the condition that both you and I get to be bride's maids."

"Oh no. No way am I doing that."

"It'll be fun, Desi. Besides, you'll get to see me change. The new me. . ."

Damn, she broke my mind with that one. I kept picturing the Gretchen from my dreams getting slowly undressed. . .

I'd break out of the loop only to see the Gretchen from my dreams getting slowly undressed. . .

"ETCH!!!"

She giggled at me. "Agree to it, or I won't let you tell them."

"You just want to see me in a bride's maid dress, don't you?"

"Of course I do. You wouldn't believe how sexy you look in drag. Especially that outfit. Keith is something wrong?"

I told her about my trip, and what had happened. I included which song I'd performed. She chuckled at that. She was horrified with what came after.

"I'm so sorry about that. If I'd known what had happened I wouldn't have joked with you like that. I never meant to make you relive that, even a little bit. I withdraw my request about being a bride's maid."

"No, Etch. I'm ok. It might be fun to have Desdemona part of a more private event like this."

"Private? My dad has over a thousand family and friends who will likely come, and Jordan has at least that many."

"Um. . ."

"Don't chicken out now, lover boy."

"Fine." I dialed a number on my phone.

"Who are you calling?"

I just looked at her and waited for the person to pick up.

"Hi, this is Keith. So, I talked to Tom. Yes he told me. Yes, he told me that too. So yeah, Gretchen would like to say something to you."

I handed the phone to Gretchen. She pulled over to the side of the road. "Hello?"

"This is Jordan. What's up?"

"Um, when you and my father get married, can Desi and I be bride's maids?"

"Of course you can, but Desi. . ."

"I kinda roped Keith into it. He agreed. I think he is starting to like dressing up."

"Don't believe a word she says, Jordan." I yelled from the other seat.

She laughed at that, and quickly finished talking to Jordan.

She pulled back out into traffic, and I held her hand again. "Did you really mean what you said before, Keith? About marrying me?"

"Of course I did, Etch."

She kissed my hand and said, "Thanks"

"What for?"

"For loving me in spite of my flaws."

"You're practically perfect."

We both laughed a bit at that. We rode the rest of the way to her house in silence. I simply projected my love for her, and soaked in her love for me.
***
Ok, first day of summer, take two. This time I was half tempted to just get into my Desdemona clothes preemptively. I got showered and shaved. Yes, I mean my body hair. I know I'd shaved yesterday, but I wanted to be perfectly smooth just in case. Tom had already given me the keys to his Aston, and this time Gretchen would be coming with me.

And again, just as I was walking out the door, Richard phoned me. Talk about bad timing.

"Hey, Keith. I was finally able to get in touch with Alecia. She's seen the contest footage, and the video, and says that at the present time she doesn't intend to allow us any use. Something about not having the proper image she is looking for."

"Can't we just do a standard royalties thing through ASCAP?"

"That only works for playing a recording of their music. Any time we want to re-record it, we need permission from the owner of the music. That reminds me of something. . ."

"What?"

"We have been fined by ASCAP for our playing Bodies at the venue, as has the owner of the establishment. Jordan is working with them to get it sorted out, since we signed a use contract with the publisher. It might mean we get some money out of the whole thing. I signed you up as a writer on ASCAP, and registered the band as a Performer. We need a copy of 'My life with you is Hell" to submit to them."

Why can't this all be easier? I'm sure that music labels do most of this work for you. I sighed. "Anything else I need to do?"

"No, that's about it. In the future, we need to make sure that all of our use contracts are filed with the proper agencies, but that was a failure on my part. You're the first independent band I've ever managed."

"Wouldn't you normally have someone else manage us? I mean, you seem to be, I don't know, well known. . ."

"I have a lot of talent in my stable, and normally I do have someone else do management. However, there's no way I'd let someone else handle my future niece-in-law."

I groaned at both the phrase, and him casting me as a girl. Gretchen got a call on her phone and answered while I continued bantering with her uncle.

"Is that even a real term? Niece-in-law?"

"It is now, because I said it, and I'm never wrong."

"Um. . ."

"Truthfully, Keith, have you ever known me to be wrong?"

"Well, you forgot to submit our license to the proper people."

"That was forgot, not mistaken. If I'd submitted it to an incorrect agency. . ." We both laughed.

Gretchen was trying to get my attention. She had a huge smile on her face. I suddenly felt like I had a ball of ice in my stomach. What now?

"Hey, Richard? I've got to go. Gretchen has something for me, and I'm sure you've got other things to worry about."

"Later, Keith."

"Bye"

Gretchen was just hanging up as well, "Ok, Jordan, I will."

"Ok, so what am I about to regret?"

"Well, since I am going to be recovering for about eight weeks after my surgery, at least if we want to be safe, and since they really want to get married soon, they chose August 9^th for their wedding." Gretchen was literally bouncing.

"Ok, so what does that have to do with us today?"

"Well, we have to get fitted for our dresses today, since I would miss out on your fitting later, and I have to do it today or tomorrow."

"Ok, I guess I should go get changed."

I tried to sound put upon, but I was kind of excited. It would be interesting to see what this experience was like. I'd never looked for it, but I might as well embrace it now that it was here. You only ruin things for yourself and others when you don't enjoy the things you have to do.

I dressed myself as Desdemona again. Gretchen gave me a strapless bra that covered my breast forms. A bit of them poked out no matter what we did, so we mixed up some concealer, and adjusted the shade a bit. I'd need to get some of this in my skin tone. Heck, I'd probably need to get some breast forms in my skin tone as well. That was a worry for another day.

I'd shaved already, lucky me, so I tossed on an airy dress, in purple and blue, tossed on my wig and began to look at footwear.

"Etch. . .We need more Desdemona shoes."

She squealed and then giggled and threw me into a hug, "My little girl is growing up so fast."

"No, it's just that all I have is a choice of knee high stiletto boots or combat boots. Flats would look better with this dress."

She looked at me a little shocked. "Since when are you into fashion?"

"You're basically wearing the same style as I am, yet you have flats. I like the way they look better than either of my choices."

She blushed and looked down, "Oh, sorry."

"Look, I don't mind wearing clothing that is similar to yours. I think it's kind of cute like Desdemona is your sister or something." Gretchen brightened at this. "I just want some more comfortable shoes for when I am out as Desdemona."

"Ok, then, we are going shopping today."

Oh crap. What did I just get myself into?
***
We went to the University Mall, since neither of us thought that we could find what we were looking for at the Towne Center.

A word about the Provo/Orem area. The two towns are smashed up against each other. Provo is mainly in the river bottom area around the Provo river. Up the hill on the north side of the river is Orem.

Now, for some reason, they decided that each city needed its own mall. So, the teen crowd tends to go to the Towne Center, and the Tween crowd tends to go to the University Mall. This is more anecdotal than anything, but the stores seem to support this idea.

Strangely enough, there's a Hot Topic in each one. Course I worked at the University Mall location the last couple of years.

That wasn't our destination. Gretchen took me shopping. I mean really shopping. After I got over the whole, "Oh crap, I'm a guy in a dress," thing, I actually kind of enjoyed it. I got to see how a number of different styles looked on me, and started to branch out my wardrobe a bit. I was probably going to spend a lot of time playing Desdemona, so I might as well be comfortable doing it.

I was surprised at how many pairs of shoes I was able to find in varying shades of hot pink. It seemed that in every store I went to, all I had to do was ask if they had anything in hot pink, and then next thing I knew I was buried in dusty boxes. I think I'm starting to develop a shoe fetish. The feel of a new shoe sliding on is a wonder in itself.

It's a good thing that this is, mainly, for the band, since I spent more than a thousand dollars on shoes. I tried on a lot of outfits, but I bought only a few of them that I really had to have. I found a perfect pair of bright pink ballet flats that I wore out of the store. They even fit the shades of blue and purple in my dress.

Did I mention it was strapless?

I got a lot of looks wandering around the mall in my bright pink hair and my pink flats.

I thought it was just my outfit for a while until. . .

"Desdemona!!!!"

Ok, guys apparently occasionally squeal.

"Hi."

"Can I have your autograph?"

"I don't. . ." I began to tell him I didn't have a pen. Gretchen tapped me on the shoulder with a nice fat tip black marker.

"What would you like me to sign?" No promotional shots, no posters.

"Could you sign my shirt?" It had a logo on the back, but the front was basically bare and white.

Why not. . ."What's your name?"

"Francis."

"I take it you usually go by Frank?" He nodded.

I put a small #2 on his pec and started into the shirt. For Frank, Because you asked so nicely, Desdemona. Then, on impulse, I put my hand underneath the shirt just below my signature and left a kiss on his shirt.

When I looked up, Frank was beet red. I finished him off with a kiss on the cheek. "Be good now."

Gretchen and I cackled as we left him still standing there. No, it's not the same thing as giggling. A guy can cackle. . .I think.

We ended up at Allyse's Bridal and Formal, after a couple more autographs. I numbered each one. I hope I can keep track of which number I'm on. The last one I did was #5.

"So, how can I help you ladies?"

"We're here to be fitted for the Anderson/Cox wedding."

"Let's see, that would make you Desdemona and Gretchen Anderson then?"

"Yep, this is Desdemona, I'm Gretchen."

"If you ladies will follow me?"

We'd carefully tucked and taped me at home, using medical tape of course, so hopefully I could pass. My career for the moment depended on it.

"Ok, Hannah will be fitting you, Gretchen, and I'll handle you myself, Desdemona." She lead us into a back area which was completely screened from any of the entrances. The inside of the shop seemed bigger than it could possibly be. When I looked out the other side I realized that it was a big L and connected two shop fronts.

"Ok, ladies, if you'd please strip so we can get accurate measurements?"

We both got down to our underwear. Gretchen was bouncy.

"Ms. Anderson, I need to you stand still please." It sounded like Hannah was getting a little frustrated.

"Etch, honey, you need to calm down."

Looking at me being measured for a bride's maid dress stopped Gretchen in her tracks. She just smiled at me. I just shook my head and snorted.

"I take it you're not as exited for this as your friend?"

"She kinda roped me into it."

"I like your hair. Did you have to dye the shoes yourself?"

"If you can believe it, they were on back stock and clearance."

"Are all of your shoes pink?"

"Most of them, yeah. It's a sort of image thing."

"You're THAT Desdemona?" Hannah was staring at me.

"It's what my license says, yep."

"How did you think of the words for that song you did on MTV. It sort of talked to me."

I looked at Gretchen, asking permission with my eyes. She nodded almost imperceptibly.

"You mean, 'My life with you is Hell'? I wrote it about the life of one of my closest girl friends. She was going through some difficult times in school, and we spent a lot of time talking. I wrote out her feelings to get a better handle on them so I could help her."

"It's about you, isn't it," Hannah said turning to Gretchen

Well, there go my good intentions out the window.

"Yes, It's a bit of my life."

"It actually gave me the courage to ask my boyfriend to marry me. We're getting married on August 9^th."

Gretchen and I laughed at this. "My dad is marrying his girlfriend on the 9^th as well."

"Would you mind signing my wedding dress for me, Desdemona?"

"Friends get to call me Desi. Won't that kind of ruin the dress?"

"Not the outside. The inside."

I laughed at this. Of course. "Sure."

"Ok, let me go get it."

While she was gone, Linda, the one measuring me, finished up. "Let me go get the dress closest to your size and we'll pin it for adjustments. Do you know if you're wearing heels or flats?"

We'd gotten a beautiful pair of four inch heels which Gretchen pulled out of her bag of a purse. "Those actually."

"You weren't kidding about the pink."

"Well, like I said: It's a bit of a signature."

She chuckled as she moved out of the room. Hannah came back in a white confection of a dress, and sat down in front of me. "You're fiancé is lucky."

"If he only knew. I was planning on leaving him before we watched that concert together."

I flipped back the top layer of the dress, and signed the first petticoat. ^#6 For courage in the rest of your life, Desdemona (Desi).

I let it dry a moment, and then dropped the sheath back in place. She hugged us just as Linda came back.

The dress was a beautiful deep burgundy color. I actually fell in love with it before I ever put it on. It felt even better than it looked. I think I might have teared up a bit, because the next thing I knew, Gretchen was dabbing my eyes with a handkerchief. I took it from her, "Thanks, Etch."

"No worries, Desi."

"Lift your leg please," Linda said touching my right leg briefly. I complied with the request, and she slipped my flat off and the heel on.

"Other leg." That was done and there I was in four inch pink shoes in a burgundy off the shoulder dress. Somehow, it was as if that dress was made for me. It fit almost perfectly without being taken in at all. The style gave the impression of hips, and made me simply gorgeous. I was completely shocked, looking at my reflection.

"That's me?"

"That dress would make just about anyone look good. On you. . .well, I just hope the bride is a goddess, because otherwise no one will be looking at her."

I suddenly realized the import of her words, and looked frantically at Gretchen, "Etch. . ."

"Don't worry about it, Desi. She will look better, I'm sure." Gretchen pulled her digital frame out of her purse and paged through the images until she got to one of Jordan. "This is the Bride."

"Ok, I stand corrected. Even with the hair, I doubt anyone will give you a second look, Desi. Heck, I'm a bit in lust, and she's wearing a business suit. . .that and I am completely into guys." Linda was a bit flushed looking. I think she might have been a little in denial about her sexual preferences. Course, everyone says I'm a bit in denial about my gender, so I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Ok, let's see where we are." She tugged a bit here, and pulled a bit there. In the end, she only marked a single adjustment, and that was to the bust. Apparently I didn't have enough up there to fill it properly. Then she marked the hem, which was still dragging on the ground a bit with my four inch heels, and we stripped it off. I was sad to see it go. "So, how are you going to pay for the dress?"

At that moment, I realized something. . .my personal card was in my name. Keith. Only my band account had a card with Desdemona on it.

"I've got this one, Desi. Seeing the look on your face, and seeing you in that dress, was worth the cost to me."

"Thank you, Etch." We kissed, a little more than a chaste kiss. It made Hannah a bit uncomfortable, but Linda looked a bit dazed.

"Sorry about that."

Linda shook herself, "Don't worry about it, Ladies. We're not ones to judge here. We even had a drag queen buy a dress here last month. Big football player looking girl if there ever was one."

Gretchen and I looked at each other and laughed. "Her name didn't happen to be Buffy, did it?"

"Yes, actually," Linda said looking a bit amazed.

"She goes to our school."

Hannah had finished measuring Gretchen at this point, and went to get her a dress. It looked good on Gretchen, and the two of us would look stunning next to anyone but Jordan. I still think I looked better in the dress.

They needed to make more adjustments to Gretchen's dress than to mine. "Ok, ladies. We will need you in here for the final fitting on the 2nd of august. That will give us barely enough time to make any adjustments that might be necessary. See you then."

We got dressed back in our street clothes, and I put the flats back on. Since we were done, I decided to stop into the Hot Topic. It was only after we entered that I remembered how I was dressed.

"Omigawd. It's Desdemona."

"Hey, Stacy, is Yancey in the back?" Stacey numbly nodded at me. I'm sure that she was wondering how Desdemona knew her.

I walked into the back of the store, and into the office. "So, Yance, you still willing to offer me the job I had last year?"

She looked at me a moment, "Who. . .Keith?! You're Desdemona?"

"Yeah, we decided if we couldn't beat them, we might as well join them."

"I will give you a job on one condition. . ."

Oh crap she's going to want me to. . . "I want you to dress as Desdemona. It'll be great for business."

I rolled my eyes at her, "Well, Etch and I just bought way too many pink shoes, so I might as well have some place to wear them. If I'm here working as Desdemona, I want my checked to say it."

"Well, that might be a difficulty with taxes. . ."

I produced my ID, "Legal alias."

"Well, in that case, Welcome to the Hot Topic family, Desdemona."

"Call me Desi."

Apparently, I had been employed all winter here, without any scheduled time. Yancey changed the names on the forms, and I was employed as Desdemona.

It was probably time for me to get a beater of a car to get myself to work. I'd used my Mom's car last year, since she usually walked to work during the summer.

"Hey, Etch, let's catch a movie while were here." I said as we walked back to the front of the store.

"Desdemona, will you sign my shirt?"

"Isn't that your uniform, Stacey?"

"Yes. . ."

"Go ahead, Desi, I don't mind," Yancey grinned while she said this.

I signed the shirt, ^#7 For someone who doesn't know she knows me, Desdemona (K)

I left her to puzzle on that one.

"What do you want to see?"

"No idea. I'm flying by the seat of my pant's here."

We walked out past the food court and into the east parking lot. A short hike past the bus depot and we were at the theater.

"So, we have A-Team and Karate Kid out this weekend."

"I am so not in the mood for a mindless action flick."

"But the A-Team is a classic. They are bringing an old TV show to life for a new audience."

"Karate Kid has Jackie Chan, and it was a cool classic movie as well. I want to see it. It looks heartwarming."

In the end, I lost out to Gretchen on that one. We'd have to come back later for the A-Team.

I sat there thinking about Gretchen's life for most of the movie, and missed a lot of the action. She seemed so well adjusted most of the time, but there were dark shadows lurking in her soul waiting to consume her. I wondered if we'd be able to make it through the long haul. I knew I loved her, and had loved her for three years. I had stuck by her through everything. To some extent, however, I'd never really known her. She'd kept this dark portion back, trying to let me only see the light.

It worried me about our future. Would she keep things like this from me then as well? What if she started having symptoms of schizophrenia? Would she hide that away? I didn't know, and my lack of knowledge scared me.

I held her hand through the movie, and looked at her rapt face. She seemed so innocent sitting there, and I wondered how much of that was real, and how much a front to hide herself away.

After Monday, Gretchen would be a captive audience for at least four weeks, and more likely eight. I hoped that I could spend some quality time with her, and we could get to know each other without all of the masks and acting.

A thought popped into my head: How was I going to convince Pink to allow me to distribute the recording of U + UR Hand we'd already made?

We got out of the movie and I turned my phone back on. There was a message from Richard to call him.

"Desi, I've got some great news."

"Great news?"

"Who is it," asked Gretchen. I mouthed Richard at her.

"Apparently, the information got out that iTunes was penalizing you for the name of your song being wrong. We've already had a hundred thousand downloads of your song, and the iTunes download server crashed for a moment. They are getting it back up, and more people are downloading."

"Wait. . .what?"

"It seems that your fans took offense at iTunes' policy and they are buying multiple copies of your song."

I stood there open mouthed. Gretchen took the phone out of my hand. "Hi, Uncle Rich. Yeah, she's in shock. Oh, really? That's great news. Love you, bye."

Gretchen kissed me full on the lips and I broke out of my catatonic stupor. "Well, looks like things are looking up for you again."

So, the song is selling on iTunes again. I have a job at Hot Topic again, just in time to be told I don't need my job. Well, it was fun working there last year, but we'll have to see what the future holds. Getting Gretchen through her surgery safe and sound is my next goal, and I need to find out what Jake and Bobby are up to, since I've heard nary a word from them in over twenty-four hours.