A new character comes out of left field, or is that the football field, a birthday is celebrated poorly, and concerts are sung.

My life so far: My Mom threw me out of the house for dressing like Desdemona. I signed my papers of Emancipation making me a legal adult at 16, for the next six months at least. I have ID showing me as Desdemona. Gretchen and I are dating, but that's no surprise to the people who know us. Richard Fields is the manager for Up in Flames, and he got us fair use rights to 'Bodies' by Drowning Pool. We made a video, and I flirted with my fans online.

The bodies of students lay everywhere in the quad. Here and there smoke curled from gaping holes torn in the masonry. The banners for the opposing armies lay strewn around. Some bore the flame emblem of Desdemona. Some bore the stylized script of Sarah Carerra.

Here and there a crippled student was helped from the field of battle by a compatriot. Cries for sports drinks or bottled water could be heard amidst the cries for mother or the wordless keening of lost souls.

I stood there alone, unharmed, in the midst of it all. There was a quiet beeping sound that drew my attention downward. I looked at the bomb at my feet, and knew it would be over soon. 5. . .4. . .3. . .2. . .beep, beep, beep.

So it was all a dream, but it felt real. I dreaded going to school today, hoping that nothing untoward happened. I just had a feeling that I wouldn't get out of this thing intact. I carefully chose my most masculine looking clothing, making sure I had jeans without holes or tears. I still had shaved legs after all. My jeans felt weird on my hairless legs. Neither good, nor bad, just different. Ok, I admit, they actually felt kinda good.

Hey, I know what you're thinking, but you'd be wrong. Guys shave their legs. You know, like Olympic swimmers and cyclists and things. Reduces drag or some such.

So, I'd be the first drag increasing leg shaver in this example, but still, there are guys who don't want to be girls who. . .oh shut up.

From now on I will only try to explain myself once every thousand or so words. Maybe.

Whatever, so I was going to school, to see the fallout from last night's video.

Well, it wasn't my dream, but it was. . .I'll just describe it, shall I?

The quad is a large open indoor space at the north end of the school The southwest corner of the quad connects to the north and east halls of the two storey "old wing" of the school. The west side goes past the office out the west door. North west of the quad is the auditorium and the fine arts section of the school, you know, my domain. North is the outside quad area. South is a single classroom accessible from the quad, and through the wall is the library, which is accessible from the east hallway next to the old wing.

East off the quad is the cafeteria. Northeast is the old gym, and further east is the new gym.

These are just the connected parts of the school. There's the whole new wing, the garage, the football field, the baseball field the tennis courts. . .the place could double as a community college.

Oh, you didn't want me to describe my school? Well, I thought it was funny.

Back to the quad. Bootleg copies of Intuition were playing from speakers connected to MP3 players. Laptops were playing 'Bodies'. Each group vying for as much of the airspace as possible. Everyone trying to stay there as long as possible before rushing to class, and then coming out and doing it again in the next five minute break between classes.

I felt myself torn. Sure, I loved that Desdemona was popular again, but hated, again that it wasn't me, and kicked myself for my ambivalence. Also, how could I inspire this warfare when Sarah Carerra was the real artist.

At lunch, people had branched out into Miley Cyrus, Pink, Blink 182, Train, Cake, Five for Fighting, Katy Perry, Evanescence and many more groups than I have the time, or ability, to name. I think I even heard Ozzy somewhere.

On my way to pick up my food, I even heard a couple of people who had synched 'Bodies' by myself and Drowning Pool so they were running in a duet. Since I had kept about the same timing as the original, and since I had done a straight octave transposition, it didn't sound half bad. The Behemoth and my 12 string certainly added something to the song that had been missing before.

The video caused me another problem

"Hey Keith, how's it feel to impersonate a girl!"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me! You're wearing a girls earrings. That and your pretty princess nails, maybe you should start wearing a dress to school."

Ok, so Lionel "Brock" Hansen wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, and could even be considered slightly less intelligent than warm Jell-O. I'd never considered that he might be, to quote Quigley, half a bubble off plumb.

It was Susanne Hansen that stood up for me, well, stood up to Brock. "Would he be able to borrow one from you, Brock? You seem to be his size."

Susanne hadn't ever struck me as the type to stand up to anyone. She was one of the Tech Crew, and tended to stay out of the spotlight as much as possible. Occupational hazard.

She was exaggerating when saying that we could wear the same dress size. First off, I think I was half as big around the torso as he was. His shoulders were quite a bit broader. And he probably weighed about fifty to a hundred pounds more than I did.

I expected him to pound her or something, anything, other than what he did. He blushed. "Maybe you could lend him your plum colored strapless gown."

Ok, what the hell. . .

Everyone was looking at Brock. Big football player Brock. . .As he began to cry and ran from the quad.

Susanne had a bit of an ohshit look on her face. I'm not sure if Gretchen, Susanne, or I were the first to react and follow him. . .into the girls bathroom?

What was going on? I gave Gretchen a look, but she just shrugged at me. I know that gender issues are supposed to be rare, but this was a little strange to say the least.

"Look, I know I wasn't supposed to say anything, Buffy, I'm sorry. It just slipped out. You of all people shouldn't have been getting into that though."

I heard crying coming from one of the stalls, "but it's not fair, Suzi. Desdemona is so good looking, and people are saying she could be related to Keith, and when Steve said she looked a bit like Keith, it made me so mad. I have to try so hard to even halfway pass and here Keith looks feminine without doing anything"

"Buffy?"

"What are you doing here, Gretchen? I can't face anyone right now."

"Hey, look there's now something we have in common."

The latch opened and Brock peered out of the stall, his eyes wide. "You? But, you're beautiful." Gretchen smiled and blushed.

"You too, Keith?"

"Oh, no. Not me. I love being a guy."

"Oh." He seemed a bit disappointed.

"Look, Gretchen and I are dating."

"You're gay?"

Susanne slapped him across the face. "Brock, do you really want to go there? Really?" He blushed and she turned to us. "I'm sorry about this, guys, he's kinda new to all of this."

"Sorry, Brock, but I'm a bit confused. You're kind of a big guy, and I know that up until last year you lifted a lot of weights. . ."

"I thought this is what my Dad wanted for me. The football career and everything. I even took steroids to speed my growth, since I wasn't developing fast enough."

I looked at Gretchen and we shared a glance. I figured that this was probably a girl talk, and made to leave. "Wait, Keith. I'm sorry for my comment. I'm still confused about who I am, or even what I am. I didn't mean to insult you."

"Look, Brock, or Buffy, I don't know you as well as Gretchen or Susanne. Frankly, I'm not into this whole girl-talk thing. . ."

Brock interrupted me, "Keith I have to tell someone else. I need to. The other girls are fine, but I want to tell a guy. I need to know. . ."

"How I react?"

"Well, yeah." He looked at his feet and blushed bright red.

"Dude, I'm flattered. . ."

"No, a sort of dry run. Not you."

"I'd have had to kill you." Gretchen was smiling as she said this, so I knew she was kidding. . .wasn't she.

"Look, you three might be comfortable in here, but. . ."

Brock looked around him for the first time since we'd come in. "Oh, crap."

We all skipped our afternoon classes. Personally I knew that I could pass the tests for those in my sleep, and Gretchen would be doing all night cram sessions. She always did. She's a bit of an over achiever and has a 4.0 GPA

We convoyed over to the Hansen's house, and Gretchen and I sat in his front room while he and Susanne went to change. Apparently Susanne was his sister. I should have twigged to their last names being the same, but Hansen isn't that rare a last name, and they were definitely in different social circles at school.

Gretchen and I simply relaxed in each other's company, waiting for the other two to get done. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't that. Buffy had opted for jeans and a tank top. It was obvious that she had breasts. They were real as far as I could tell. Her makeup was impeccable. I'd never exactly call her pretty, but she looked at least somewhat female.

I'd seen genetic females who looked more masculine.

Her mannerisms were believable at least.

"Spill, Buffy. What's up?"

"I used to have tea parties with Suzi. When we were both really young. It wasn't about male or female. We were just sisters and so we dressed up, and played with her dolls. I always wondered why Suzi got the pretty dolls and dresses, and I got stuck with the trucks and stuff. My Dad thought I was a collector, because they all sat on my shelf, perfectly arranged, so he started getting me the rare expensive ones. They sat on the shelf as well.

"Sometimes I would imagine Suzi's dolls in the cars, but they were too small, the cars I mean. One day, my Dad caught us playing dress up. He took us both aside and explained that girls wore dresses and boys didn't. I was confused by this, since I didn't think about myself as a boy. Sure, we looked a bit different, but Suzi and I were sisters. We both knew it.

"About a week later, Dad caught us again. He took me aside and yelled at me. 'Didn't you understand before that boys don't wear dresses?' I was upset and confused. I didn't know why my Daddy was so angry at me. I said the only thing I could think of, 'Do you want me to be a boy Daddy?'

"I simply didn't understand at the time. I was five years old. My Dad spent a long time explaining things to me, and finally I realized that I was supposed to be a boy." Buffy stopped, as if unable to continue.

Suzi held her hand and started speaking, "She was in tears when she told me that we couldn't play together anymore. I still remember what she said that day, 'Daddy thinks I'm a boy, so we can't play dress up or tea party anymore.' I cried too. I was losing my best friend."

"I tried living up to Daddy's expectations after that. But I was small, and never big enough for most sports that Daddy thought I should play. I started taking Steroids when I was twelve. It was off and on. I started to develop breasts when I was fourteen. I hid them, but it was one of the happiest moments of my life. I bound my chest, and I would explain it away as bruised ribs."

Ok, a guy with breasts? Suzi saw my confusion and spoke up again, "It's a condition called gynecomastia. It's a common side effect of the steroids that he was taking."

"I kept taking them for another year, but it was getting to be too much for me. The more I became the boy that my Dad wanted, the less I wanted to live. I took forty-three sleeping pills to try to end it all."

"I found him in time, but the doctors found out about his. . .peculiarities. So did Mom and Dad. They made him go see Dr. Allen."

Gretchen and I shared a knowing look. Buffy continued, "I'd damaged my gonads through my continued steroid use. They wanted to put me on testosterone shots, but I refused. I'd already done enough damage to myself. After talking to Dr. Allen, I was prescribed estrogen instead."

"I was losing muscle mass, and was dropped from first string, but I had never been happier. Daddy still doesn't know what to make of it all, but he realizes now why I was so confused as a child with his 'man talks' as he calls them."

"Don't be modest, Buffy. You already have Dad wrapped around your little finger. He offered to get you plastic surgery this summer after all."

"I never said I was going to take it."

"Um, you know that it's not a good idea for a teen to. . ."

"Yes, I know that. Dad wanted to get it for me so I would have an easier time passing next year at school."

Ok, that explained quite a bit. So, Buffy would be coming to school next year. Gretchen leaned forward, as I leaned back into the couch. "So. . .who was it that you had a crush on."

Buffy blushed, and Suzi began to fidget. She spoke in a really quiet voice while looking at a spot on the carpet, "Robert Lewis."

I couldn't help it. I laughed. "You've. . .got a crush. . .on Bobby!"

"Be nice, Keith." Seeing Buffy's discomfort I laughed harder. I was getting a bit hysterical. I just couldn't stop. This had to be another dream. Like the quad battlefield or me naked on stage as a girl. I couldn't stop laughing.

"DESI!!!"

That did it. I looked at Gretchen shocked. Suzi and Buffy looked at me questioningly. I could think of nothing to say. She reached into my pocket and showed them my ID. My other ID.

"Keith plays Desdemona on stage."

"Then. . ."

"Yeah, Bobby is one of my best friends."

"Buffy, why don't you come with us to Jake's house. Keith and the band need to practice a bit, I'm sure, and you could meet them all out of costume, so to speak."

"Ok, just let me go get changed."

"No." I'm not sure which of the three of us said it first, but it was pretty much synchronized at the end.

"This is who you are, honey. You're going to be doing this next year anyway, so you might as well let the important people know now."

We got up to leave, and Buffy grabbed my arm. "Um, Keith, do you know if Rob. . .Bobby is dating anyone right now?"

"Bobby spends too much time on homework and his baby to date."

"His baby?"

"You'll see."

I called Jake and told him we were on our way over. Sure enough, he and Bobby had just arrived and were practicing their parts for Black Flag. We'd switch to My life with you is Hell as soon as I got there.

When we arrived, I went in first, and the girls came in a mass behind me. "You guys mind if we have a couple of groupies this time?"

Jake's eyes were sort of glued to Buffy's chest and he didn't even notice who she was. He nodded. Bobby on the other hand was staring at her face. He could almost place her, but not quite.

"I have a class with you at school, don't I?"

She blushed and nodded. He still couldn't place her. It was eating at him. I opened my mouth to speak, but Gretchen shushed me.

"Look, I know it's a little weird, but this is the real me."

Jake's and Bobby's eyes widened in surprise. "Brock?"

"It's Buffy, but yeah."

"Wow. I mean, wow." Jake's powers of conversation never cease to amaze.

"Those aren't fake, are they." Bobby said to her while looking at me.

"No, they're all me. You can touch them if you want."

"Buffy!?" Suzi said with a shocked tone in her voice.

"I'll take your word for that, at least for now," Was that a grin on his face?

"Look, I know it's sudden, and that you probably don't think of me as anything but Brock, but I. . .this really is me. I haven't been able to tell you in person, but. . ."

"You left those notes?"

She nodded. Wait, notes? What...? What's going on here?

"When they stopped I thought someone was playing a prank on me."

"I stopped because I needed to tell you the truth, but I couldn't"

"Look, Buffy? There's no way the person who wrote those to me was a guy. Period. If that was you, then I think I can accept at least dating you."

"Dude, Bobby, you had a secret admirer and didn't tell us?" Jake beat me to the punch.

"I thought you two put some girl up to playing a trick on me. There was no way I was giving you the satisfaction."

He walked over to her and kissed her on the lips. And it wasn't just a peck either. "Nope, you don't kiss like a guy either."

We stared at him while he turned and went over to the Behemoth. "So, we practicing or what?"

We played through 'My life with you is Hell' a couple of times, and then worked on trouble spots for about an hour. We played through again, and figured that it was as good as it was going to get at this point. Gretchen and I were just pulling up at her place when my phone rang.

"Keith?"

"Yes, Mom?" Great, what did she want now?

"You remember that your cousin's birthday is tomorrow?"

"No, you never told me."

"I'm sure I told you on Monday."

"Mom, last time we spoke was Friday, remember? Look, Mom, I assume it's at their house in Bountiful, right?"

"Yes, just make sure you don't bring that freak with you."

I hung up before I could respond in a way that I would regret. Before last week, Mom had treated Gretchen well. There were no issues between them, and I even assumed that she accepted her. Then, last week, she had completely blown a gasket.

"Hey, Etch? Wanna go to my cousin's birthday party? It's sort of a command performance, and I need a ride."

"Nathan?"

"Yep."

"Ok, should be fun."
***
Bountiful is about a half hour north of Salt Lake. After school we headed out. School was more of the same from yesterday at lunch, just more subdued than it had been. It seems it only took a week for the new girls on the block to be relegated to the same status as everyone else.

"Hey, guys. You remember Gretchen, right?"

"Yep. Welcome Gretchen." My cousin Nathan look a little quizzically at us.

"I needed a ride to get here, and Gretchen offered."

"Still don't have your own wheels?"

"Nah, I still spend too much on clothing and jewelry."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think. . ."

"Probably not a good idea to go there right now."

"Huh?"

"Drama you don't want to be a part of if possible."

"Okay."

My cousin and his wife had no children of their own, and he was a bit older than me. My Mom was the youngest of eight children, and Nathan was the oldest son of her oldest sibling. He was actually older than my Mom by a couple of years. Welcome to Utah, everyone.

Have you ever heard the joke that goes: You're probably in Utah if it's the mother of the bride who's pregnant?

Yep, that's my Mom's family.

"Need help setting up?"

"Sure, Send Gretchen into the kitchen with Stacey, and you and I can set up tables."

Eight kids, remember? Add spouses for most of them and the average of 4 kids, and you get a lot of people to be in one spot. Most of them were still in Utah. When we got together for something like this it took up the entire block, at least it seemed. It's been more than twenty years since the whole clan could fit inside a house. Sometimes I wonder if we shouldn't just hire a convention center when we want to get together.

We finished putting up all of the tables as the rest of my family started to arrive. I won't give you thirty plus names that you're going to forget the moment you read them.

"So, Keith, you and Gretchen?"

"There's a possibility there. We'll see."

"What's with the hardware?" Said another cousin pointing at the earrings.

"Long story. Short answer is I need it for stage."

"Still acting are you?" One of my uncles.

"In a manner of speaking. This has more to do with my band." You've got to realize, that I'm not the center of attention here. There are a lot of conversations going on at once. I'm just relating the ones that are about me.

"You still playing around with that? What are you up to now, fifty some odd rejections?" Thank you Grandpa Keith. They named me after him.

"No, only forty-seven." I say this with a smile, to let him know I don't take offense. I like my Grandpa.

I looked across the gathering and saw Gretchen the center of a group of my younger female cousins. By younger, I mean our age.

She fit in well with my family. I was having a happy moment, so of course that's when I saw my Mom arguing with a couple of my uncles and Nathan. Ok, so that's not the best thing that I could see. I rushed over to try and do damage control, only to hear the end of the conversation.

"If you can't be civil to a guest of my house, then I have to ask you to leave."

"I'm family Nathan. You can't kick me out."

"Tracy, you need to calm down. You're upsetting people."

"It's not people. It's an abomination before God."

"Get out."

I think the anger in my cousin's eyes finally got through to her. My Mom threw a look in my direction that suggested this was far from over, and then left.

"What's this all about?" I asked as casually as I could, knowing that I probably already knew the answer.

"Your Mom is spreading some story that you're gay and living in sin with Gretchen, who was born a boy."

Wow, this was going to be a fun one to disarm. Where are the real bomb techs when you need them?

"Ok, um. Part of what she's saying is true."

"You're gay?"

Why does everyone accuse me of that?

"No, Nathan. I'm not now, nor have I ever been."

"Look, I understand if you've had thoughts in that direction. Heck, we always liked your dad better than your mom."

"Nathan!" This was my Grandpa having come over to see what the commotion was.

"It's true, Grandpa."

"Yes, but it's not nice to say." There was a twinkle in his clear blue eyes.

"Ok, let's start with the short version, and go for clarification from there. Gretchen was born male, but always felt she was female, and she is going in for surgery to correct that after school gets out. I am a legally emancipated minor because Mom threw me out last week over Gretchen. Gretchen and I are not in any sort of a physical relationship, and since she will be female in the eyes of the law before we start anything, IF we start anything, I will still consider myself heterosexual. If there's a problem with either of us being here, then we can leave. And while yes, I am currently staying at her house, I have my own bedroom, with a lock on the door, and her Dad would kill me if I did anything like my Mom is suggesting."

One of my female cousins piped up at this point, "That's the short version?"

"Yeah, the long version is about fifty pages, where that was a paragraph."

I got chuckles over that.

One of my more conservative aunts came up to me, and I figured that I was about to get it now.

"Everyone is entitled to make their own choices, and their own mistakes, young man. Without evidence I won't believe, personally, that Gretchen ever was more or less than the female she seems to be. Heck, she's prettier than I am." This got general chuckles.

"You're mother is in need of serious help, I mean throwing a helpless sixteen year old into the arms of the very person she claims to be trying to save him from? Disgraceful." She had a twinkle in her eye like Grandpa's. "No, how are you set for money, Keith, since you're an adult now?"

I smiled at her. This is definitely not the response I expected. I expected something a little closer to my Mom's response actually.

"I'm good as far as money goes. I have right around five thousand in my checking account."

"Keith!" Oh crap. I never told Gretchen about how much the use rights for the song cost.

"Gretchen, I was going to tell you that the use rights for 'Bodies' cost one thousand, and discuss it with you before purchasing it, but with everything happening and so little time before the contest. . ."

"You're in for it now, Keith."

"Yeah, never make your woman mad, Man."

"Looks like you two were trying to keep your very real relationship low key, huh?" This last was my Grandpa. "Tell you what, Etch, isn't that what I hear him call you? We'll hold him for you so he can't run, and you can get it out with him. . .or beat some sense into him, whichever you prefer. I mean, a thousand dollars for a song?"

"The band bought the rights to the song. As long as we don't make any professional recordings of it, you know in a studio with someone else footing the bill, we can make, and distribute, recordings of the song as we see fit."

"Keith, we had a deal. And that was your money, not the bands."

"Etch, that's why I wanted to discuss this with you. It's an unlimited license."

"But, you lost money on it."

A light bulb went off in my head. Why didn't I think about this before? "Hold that thought, please? I need to call your uncle."

I had a thought. A really good thought.

Everyone was staring at me now. Ok, so now I AM the center of attention. Better get used to it, Keith ol' bean.

"Hey, Richard? Yeah, Keith. What limitations on distribution do we have for that license? So, we could say, I don't know, offer up the high quality version of the video on iTunes? That and provide an mp3? Do we take care of that, or do you? You're the best, thanks."

I turned back to Gretchen and she was trying not to smile. "Babe, ok, so I was hasty, and I should have discussed it with you. I should have made arrangements before hand for getting the video distributed. I didn't think and you were right. Will you forgive me?"

"Kiss him!" One of my cousins yelled, and Gretchen blushed. Yeah, we're a boisterous bunch.

"I need you to promise that you won't spend any more money on your band without discussing it with me and the band first, ok?"

"Yes, Etch. I promise."

She kissed me. There was general cheering. I had to explain the band, and why Mom threw me out over it. I think I managed to convince them that Desdemona was only a stage persona, like Ziggy Stardust. I'm not sure they bought it before Grandpa made a declaration.

"Family, for Keith to succeed in his career, people need to think he's a woman. You all know what a sweet, high, voice he has. He tells us all it's an act, and until he changes his mind we believe him. I want you all to get into family groups, and discuss this. I want a promise from every head of household that you will keep Keith's secret, and we won't discuss this with anyone, even ourselves. Desdemona is a distant relation. We don't know her if we should ever meet her. We don't do this to snub Keith, but to protect him. What say you all?"

Some of the discussions of families got heated. None came to blows. In the end every family disavowed all knowledge of Desdemona until formally introduced. In return I promised never to bring up my band at family gatherings until Desdemona had been introduced to them all, and then only while in my Desdemona persona.

Long way of saying that they would keep my secret for me. I'd seen enough of my family in action to know that I could trust all of them. Some of them would probably, secretly, buy up copies of 'Bodies' to help me out on occasion.

I made a quick call to Bobby's house.

"Lewis household, Robert Lewis speaking."

Since his dad used the phone for business, they had to be a bit formal when answering.

"Hey, Bobby. Is your Dad home? We're trying to get the video uploaded to iTunes so we can make some money."

"Yeah, Richard already called. It's taken care of, and we have the mp3 and video already up there."

And that's why agents made the big bucks. . .at a small percent of each transaction. Hopefully Desdemona started getting some hits.

"Oh, and we added a link from the info on YouTube to the files on iTunes."

Yep, I love my agent.

"Ok, well thanks."

In the half an hour, or there about, it took the family to have a council and come to an agreement, Richard had already brokered a deal with iTunes and gotten our music in uploaded. He must have had some contacts already in place.

Twenty four more hours more hours to the concert. So short a time. Gretchen and I drove home. We talked about many things and fell asleep lying next to each other.
***
School was hell. Or was it just the waiting and wanting the final bell to ring.

I was surprised to see Buffy there.

"Buffy? I thought you'd decided to wait til next year to come out, so to speak."

She blushed, but looked at Bobby who stood protectively next to her. Sure, Buffy was a big girl, but at 6'6" they don't get much bigger than Bobby. Sometimes I wonder if he didn't make his Behemoth so that he had a Bobby sized instrument for once. She was wearing heals and she was still shorter than him. Not by much, though.

"Bobby's acceptance of me made my decision easy."

"Watch where you're going, fa..oof."

Someone had walked up behind Buffy and was preparing to push her, when Bobby pushed first. Ok, so what he did couldn't be considered a push. More like a gut punch. He whispered something in the guys ear, and we watched as the blood drained from his face. Bobby kept speaking. The guy started trembling. When Bobby let him up, the guy turned to Buffy.

"I'm sorry for my mistake, Mistress Buffy. I will do my best to fix it by being your personal protector whenever Bobby can't."

"Thank you, Sir, but I think that I can do without your services. You are free to leave."

"But. . ." He looked really scared now.

"The lady asked you to leave." There was a menace in Bobby's voice that I'd never heard before. I never wanted to make him angry at me, that's for sure.

After the guy left, a sheepish Buffy turned to look my direction. "I never properly thanked you for yesterday, Keith. I'd also like to apologize. I shouldn't have acted that way. I should have been more grateful for what I did have. I almost lost any possibility at meeting Bobby properly because of my behavior."

Bobby was a bit confused and looked between us. "What happened yesterday? I know you disappeared from school. . ."

Suzi spoke up from behind Bobby, where apparently she'd been standing invisibly. "Brock made a last ditch effort to screw things up for Buffy, so Keith flushed him down the girls toilet."

Gretchen, Suzi, Buffy, and I laughed, and Bobby looked confused. "Don't worry about it, bro. It's all in the past."

I received a text message on my phone: Urgent. Call me. Richard.

Isn't auto-complete a wonderful tool. I called Richard. He told me the news. I dropped the phone. I distantly heard the bell ring to go to class, but I didn't recognize it for what it was. I kept having the same thing run through my head. One hundred thousand.

I couldn't even really understand it. How popular WAS Desdemona. How did so many people know who she was. Sure, that was just downloads, but my word. One hundred thousand people had downloaded her song alone. The video was a little more expensive, so I'm sure that it wasn't downloaded as much. Someone kissed me. One hun. . .Oh, Gretchen.

"Keith, are you alright?" Gretchen was talking to me. They were all looking at me a bit weird. I picked my phone off the ground. It still worked, luckily, and was still connected to Richard.

"How many sales of the video was that?"

A slight chuckle from Richard, "Only about fifty thousand of the video, but we make almost a buck and a half on that one. Total, before my cut, Up in Flames has made just over two hundred thousand dollars in less than twenty four hours."

"Thanks, Richard. Gotta get to class."

I hung up the phone, still a bit shocked. They all looked at me a bit expectantly. Realizing that Jake wasn't with us, I decided to keep them in the dark a bit longer. "Get Jake and find me at lunch. You're going to need time to process."

Gretchen looked at me, as if she was planning a course of attack to get it out of me, but I rushed off in the direction of my last class of the morning. "Meet me at lunch!"

I was such a stinker.

The class, Algebra, seemed to take almost no time at all to complete. Next thing I knew, we were south of the cafeteria at the top of a set of stairs. They lead to the upper bleachers on the west side of the old gym. No one came up here usually, and it was one of the places I would go to think. I'd gotten the latest numbers from Richard before coming to meet with everyone.

"So, Keith, Spill. What's wrong? What's happened?" Gretchen would kill me when she found out. . .probably.

"Well, we sold a couple of songs and some videos on iTunes last night and this morning."

"Oh, is that all." Jake said nonchalantly.

"Yeah, there was an initial rush, but it seems to have petered off a bit."

"So," Bobby said, "How many we sell? A hundred?"

I smiled.

"A thousand?"

"Five thousand?" This one was from Buffy. I smiled even bigger.

"You can't tell me we sold more than five thousand in a single day, did we?" Jake added his two cents.
"What if I told you guys that flying first class wasn't outside our price range?"

They all looked at me, the surprise evident on their faces.

"After the fees for the publishing agency and iTunes, after Richard's fee, Up in Flames has already made about two hundred fifty thousand dollars."

Jake fainted dead away. We took a couple of minutes to revive him. "Guys, I had the weirdest dream. I dreamt that we had a video on iTunes and we sold enough copies to make over two hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

"That's no dream, Jake. That was reality."

"Up in Flames now has two hundred fifty thousand dollars?"

"A little over that, yeah."

"It's not supposed to happen this way. It's supposed to be harder than that."

"Look, it might be a fluke. People might have downloaded by mistake, thinking they were getting something else. Who knows? For right now, let's just enjoy the moment. . .and not spend any of our money until we're sure."

"Way to kill the party, Keith. But hey, it's a cool thought for a moment or two. We might, possibly, almost, be rich."

"Guys, unless we spend frugally, all it means is we don't need summer jobs. We are middle class, for about three years, if we manage our money well."

Everyone laughed at this. "What?"

"You really are an adult, aren't you, Keith." This was from Gretchen of all places. We laughed at that, and headed down to the quad to participate in the general craziness that is high school.
***
We drove Jake's van across the desert to the oasis that is Las Vegas. Four hours in any vehicle is a bit boring. While there are a few twisting canyon portions of the trip, most of the trip from home to lost wages is monotonous. Scrub and mountains. Scrub and valleys. Scrub and flat as far as the eye can see. Mainly, it is a lot of scrub brush.

We arrived at the venue shortly after six thirty.

"Name?"

"Up in Flames." We were in costume already, since there really was nowhere to change here. I'd shaved before putting on the leggings, the second time, since they were really uncomfortable with the stubble that had grown back since I'd shaved them on Tuesday.

"So, you're Desdemona, huh? If I didn't know better, I'd say you were the one being promoted here tonight. I'd say good luck, but we both know it's fixed."

Wait, he already knew who I was. . .at least by reputation? We entered the place, and I got my first clue as to why he knew who I was. We had a swag table. There was a cute blond in an Up in Flames fitted tee sitting behind the table. Her eyes got big as I approached. "It's an honor to finally meet you, Desi. My Dad's told me sooo much about you. I bought your song on iTunes, and am soo looking forward to hearing some of your own music. This is like so cool."

Ah, Gretchen's cousin.

I fingered the knockoff earrings. We had them in two sizes. Small and Life-size. "How much are these?"

"The small ones are twenty, and the big ones are a hundred."

"Is your Dad around?"

"Last I saw him, he was schmoozing with MTV."

"Thanks."

We walked around the place. We had about an hour before the doors opened at eight. I saw a lot of hopefuls, as well as the 'Belle of the Ball' otherwise known as Meaningless Death Imagery, corporate tools. Their real name isn't important to anyone but themselves and their agent.

Finally, we found Richard as he was giving a business card to a guy in a collared shirt. "Make sure you get some good footage of my girl, ok?"

"If she looks anything like this chick, I'll be glad to."

Richard turned around, and somehow, on the spur of the moment, we air kissed. "Hi, Richard. Spreading my fame abroad, I see?"

"Desi, this is Noah Brandt, executive producer. Noah, Desdemona of Up in Flames."

I took his hand with just the gingers of mine. "Pleased to meet you, Noah." I said with a big smile.

"You wouldn't happen to want to get a drink before the show, would you?"

"I am way too young for you and drinking, Mr. Brandt, as I'm only sixteen. And I think my girlfriend would have a problem with it as well."

Yep, I broke his brain. I could see how playing a girl could be fun. Course, that's all I wanted it to be. Playing. I wanted to be able to take off the girl and still be myself when I was done.

Noah shook himself, and smiled at me. "Well, you're right about the too young thing. There are going to be a lot of upset fanboys when they find out. If you were twenty-one, which is my lower limit by the way, I'd take you for that drink, girlfriend be damned."

"I'll have to tell her you said that. She'll enjoy it." Would she ever. I had a chuckle at myself as I walked away.

Bobby and Jake carried our instruments for us. Too many horror stories of lost, stolen, and ruined instruments at events like this for any of us to relax. At quarter to eight, they ushered us into the small greenroom, made smaller by the number of people in there.

"Ok, ladies and gentlemen. The order is going to be. . ." ten faceless, possibly talentless, hopeful groups followed by, "Up in Flames, and finally Meaningless Death Imagery, corporate tools." See, everyone is getting into the spirit of things. Or that's just the power of the narrator to edit anything as they see fit.

We waited through the horrendous wailing, badly tuned instruments, and occasional brilliance of the other ten bands to play. The tenth got done, and there was some applause, possibly because they finally stopped playing.

I'd gotten my 12 String out of the case while they were 'playing' and made sure my tuning was correct. Then we made sure that the Base and 12 String were in tune with each other. We were the only ones other than Meaningless Death Imagery, corporate tools, who were left in the green room, since apparently they had us go elsewhere after we performed. Didn't matter to me.

We went out to the stage, and Jake and I plugged in. There was a slight double pop from the speakers when we did it. Almost in synch. Bobby sat down at his drum. I walked to the front of the stage and waited.

The lights went out in the bar, leaving a single white spotlight on my face. I looked down at the mic, not in fear of the audience, but preparing myself for the emotion of the song. I dropped my right hand to my side, holding first one finger up, then two and finally three.

I brought my hand quickly to the strings and started the screaming fall from near the bottom of the neck all the way till I was running an open E double. Jake and I wove the bass line back and forth for a moment or two, as if fighting for the spotlight. I screamed my guitar, and he snarled his bass, but then he took up the incessant bass line. It was a low rumble like a thunderstorm over the horizon.

I started in on the mid range melody, and began to sing, my voice forming a sort of descant above the pounding surf of the music:

Outside of my mind lives the darkness
it takes me from myself and consumes me completely
Inside of my mind all reside in loneliness
and I live within myself pushing, running, turning you away

I ran a short bridge and a key change into a more Major key from the Minor key harmonies of the main verse and launched into the chorus with a screaming tenor line almost drowning out the bass and drums. I lived the words for the moment, giving my soul into them:

I feel all that you cut me
and I know that you don't own me
but you will not live without me
and it isn't that you want me
but I sing this all about the hell that is my life with you.

I dropped back down a bit to the original melody as I sang the second verse:

I don't know if what I feel is what you want
and I know that you're here to make all of it stop
I lose myself within the voice, of your sick taunt
And I sit and say that all I want is for you to go away.

I ran a second key change, this time dropping into a different minor key, plucking out the sepulchral tones that the chorus could produce. We slowed from the pounding rhythm we had used from the start, and I sang each word as if it gave me physical pain to let it go into the world.:

I feel all that you cut me
and I know that you don't own me
but you will not live without me
and it isn't that you want me
but I sing this all about the hell that is my life with you.

Almost before I finish the end of the chorus, the drums start beating a steady rhythm. A heartbeat. Filling the words I have to sing next with life. The original melody picks up again in its original key The music ran the same length, but each line stopped early, letting the music run alone:

You killed me went I went away
My feeling for you flew away
My life with you is gone away

The last line of this verse was spoken instead of sung. I started quietly and low, slowly speeding up and getting louder The music ended before I did, so my band went silent leaving me to finish alone:

I damn you to the hell you live and know that all my life I live and you will not rule my love of life so get yourself away!

Everything fell silent for a breathless moment, even the audience seemed to wait in anticipation. We dragged the silence on for a couple more seconds, then Bobby struck the rim of his tom three times to give us the tempo, and then we picked up on the third strike with the words and music for the first chorus:

I feel all that you cut me
and I know that you don't own me
but you will not live without me
and it isn't that you want me
but I sing this all about the hell that is my life with you.

The other two dropped off leaving me for a solo on my 12 string. I played as if the rest of the song had just been a setup for this one moment. I varied all of the versions of the melody and chorus, playing my soul into the music. I shifted into the second to last line of the chorus to single bringing my solo to a close and at the right moment, the other two came in for the final line of our song:

I sing and play the hell of you away!

It no longer mattered to me if we won this contest. We had played better than we ever had in the past, and winning now almost felt like it would be anti-climax to emotion we had brought to the song. The crowd erupted into noise, but it was so loud I couldn't tell if it was positive or negative. We left the stage as we had entered it: silently with our heads held high.

There was no one to direct us as we left the stage, so we went back into the green room as Meaningless Death Imagery, corporate tools, left. I don't get tired of saying that.

Meaningless Death Imagery, corporate tools.

They weren't a bad band, and if we hadn't been there, there's no doubt that they'd have won a fair contest.

But, it wasn't a fair contest, and we were there.

There were boos when they were awarded the first prize.

I heard something from the crowd that slowly got louder. Chants of Up in Flames interspersed with Desdemona. They got together finally and it became a crashing call for us. We walked back out on stage and plugged in.

"Everyone having a good time?"

I saw cameras being hurriedly turned back on, and Richard stopping one of the suits from getting back on the stage.

"YEAH!" was the general consensus, with a smattering of "Hell(s) Yeah) and a late "I love you Desdemona! Have my babies"

There was some laughter at that.

"Silently, we released a song this week. We recorded it. We uploaded it. A lot of you downloaded it. This is a thank you for that."

I turned to Jake and Bobby and quietly spoke. "'Bodies'. Follow my lead."

Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the flooooooooooooor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
***
If anything they were louder this time. They even sang along, but that's what happens when you sing something a lot of people know. Maybe they will get that way with 'My life with you is Hell', and 'Black Flag' eventually.

"Good night, Las Vegas. You'll be with me in my dreams tonight."

We got home about five am.
***
The phone ringing woke me up at a little after nine o'clock

"Hello?"

"Keith? Richard. We have a problem, but I've taken care of it. Apparently when our production company uploaded your song, they listed it as Drowning Pool and not Up in Flames. Since the folks at Apple don't know which of the people wanted to buy the song, and which were simply trying to download the other, they've refunded everyone who downloaded your song. Good news is they caught it, and corrected the artist, before the contest last night. The worse news is they've assessed us a penalty because it happened."

Oh crap, "How much?"

"Ten cents per download. So it's only thirty thousand dollars."

"We don't have thirty thousand dollars."

"It was only the song that was screwed up. The video is up to seventy five thousand downloads. That means we have seventy eight thousand after paying off all of the fines."

"Thanks Richard."

I'd only gotten about four hours sleep at this point, but figured I might as well stay up now. I'd have a hell of a time getting back to sleep.

I went downstairs. Gretchen was already up, and reading the entertainment section of an online newspaper. She tried to browse away, but I stopped her. It was a critique of the contest last night.

"Meaningless Death Imagery, corporate tools, proved what it means to be a Goth band in today's world of pop princesses and teen idols. They provide a main stream sound, while at the same time giving the crowd what they're looking for. The five piece ensemble includes two Base guitars, the drummer, a backup singer on six string guitar, and the lead singer.

"They did a cover of Evanescence's 'Bring me to Life' giving it a new twist with a male lead singer.

"Their costumes were more of the same, with cubic yards of white cake on their faces, and enough black cloth to make a tents for an entire boy scout troop, should they opt for that color instead of their more normal olive green.

"On the other hand, 'Up in Flames' should have stuck with what was probably their first band name 'Down in Flames' and then never humiliated themselves here in the first place. From the strange harmonies of a 12-string guitar as lead, to the whiny sound of lead singer Desdemona's voice, this band could only be worse if stories about the drummers Leviathan instrument are true, and he chose to bring it.

"The words to the song were derivative and trite, and brought nothing new to the Goth genre.

"The only thing about this band that is truly memorable were the costumes that they wore, and I'm sure that many in the audience, like myself, wanted Desdemona's phone number. She makes a truly striking figure in her black corset to with burgundy flashes, black toule skirt, burgundy leggings and white and burgundy harlequin makeup. She could have worn something in a stiletto heel to complete the ensemble, but the pink combat boot, matching her pink hair, completed it well enough."

Of course he would try to destroy us in print. Only natural when we really won the contest, right?
***
Sometimes I really question Jake's sexuality. He watched the Tween awards. He had tickets to the Josh Holliday concert. I mean seriously. He had four tickets to the concert. Of course they were for Jake, Bobby, Gretchen, and Myself, right? Nope. Jake decided to give his ticket to Buffy. I figured that I needed to take some of the attention from Buffy, so I went in my 'Bodies' costume, minus the body covering white cake. It had taken me about two hours to clean it off Tuesday night.

I was glad for the warmer summer weather when we got out there. I heard a few mentions of my name, but this wasn't really my audience.

I didn't even know who my target audience was. Who was I really? We got out in the grass where our tickets put us, and Bobby lay down the blanket we would be sitting on. We waited as the crowd filled in, and finally the band came on stage. Then, before I knew it, there she was.

I tried to think of her as competition, but the moment she started to sing the opening bars of 'Rock Star' I knew I was outclassed. I was glad that I was in a completely different market, whatever it was, than she was.

"Good evening, Salt Lake City!"

From 'Rock Star' to 'Pop princess'. A burning rendition of 'Open your Eyes'.

I was lost. I had barely performed two songs last night. I thought I'd killed it. I was a hack. My one moment of fame, and here I was being shown up by this. . .

. . .perfect talent.

Gretchen and Buffy got up to dance for 'I Just Wanna Have Fun'. Luckily I could smile a bit at them and play the Goth princess, aloof and cold, on the blanket. I needed to think.

There had to be something I could do, right? Someway to compete? Did I need to compete at all?

Did I just find my niche and stay there? Her style was all over the place. Almost as hard to pin down as my own. Did I want to try to compete with her? Change my look?

Did I need to?

What I did was unique. I played to my strengths without giving an inch to other peoples preconceived notions of what I should be. Being Desdemona on stage was a part of that.

The song drew to a close, and like the other times, Sarah came to the microphone to speak.

"This next song is very special to me," she paused for a moment after saying this. "I wrote this song with my best friend. I've known her since I was two years old, and we've done everything together."

Her eyes glistened a bit with unshed tears

"This is the first concert I've ever performed. I wish with all of my heart that she could have been here tonight. But even if she isn't here in body, I know she's here in spirit. I'd like to dedicate this next song to her. 'Ever After', Chloe. Always."

Songwriter? Songwriter! That was supposed to be MY thing. The place I could shine on my own.

She began to sing, and I knew I had lost before I began. Where my work always felt derivative and trite to me, hers was simply perfect. I looked at Bobby and Gretchen and Buffy all enjoying themselves, and I simply couldn't stand another minute of it. How could they do this to me?

Then I sat back and enjoyed it. It really was a good song. There was just something so powerful about the emotion of it.

She of course finished the concert with 'Intuition'. It sounded better than the recording did. It was then I realized she actually sounded better live than on CD. Well, all I could hope was I sounded the same since I didn't use Perfect Pitch or any of the other similar software titles out there.
***
The rest of the concert wasn't bad. I knew what to expect from Josh Holliday. I got some cuddle time with Gretchen, and Bobby and Buffy got some of the same.

We walked back to the car, still experiencing the glow from the concert. My phone rang.

"Hey, Keith, can you guys come on over to my place after the concert?" It was Jake.

"Sure man, but you missed a once in a lifetime opportunity, man."

"It was just a Josh Holliday concert."

"Sarah Carerra opened for him."

"You're kidding."

"Nope, you missed a first."

"Crap. . .well, I didn't miss the other first."

"And what was that?"

"The first national broadcast of Up in Flames. Don't worry, I recorded it."

"Ok, see you in about three hours. Traffic looks like it's going to be bad."

"Ok, see you."

Gretchen obviously wanted to know what was up. "MTV has already played the contest. Jake recorded it."

We climbed into Gretchen's baby and drove home. I tried my best to ignore the two people in the back seat. "Can you keep the petting to a minimum please?"

"We were," said an indignant Bobby, while a very embarrassed Buffy adjusted her blouse. They toned it down after that. Shortly afterward Bobby leaned against the side and fell asleep. Buffy cuddled up against the snoring giant.

We got to Jakes, and he queued up our coming on stage the first time.

"Do we really come off as that aloof?"

"Wait a minute."

And then we began to play. It was transcendent. It was amazing.

"Wow, Keith, you're good," Buffy said looking at the screen in awe, "and this is a recording."

"I've seen you before, but never like this, Keith. You might even be better than Sarah Carerra."

"No way, guys. This is a fluke."

"Keith, have you actually taken a look at our video?"

I looked at Jake. "Yeah, I've seen it."

"No, I mean looked at it. When you put your heart into the music, it changes. It becomes yours for a moment, no matter who wrote it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just watch." He'd paused it while we were talking, and started it again. I watched as the person on stage felt every word of the song. There's no way it was me, and yet I remembered every moment of that experience.

I remembered the heat of the spot, and the feel of the strings and frets.

I remembered the hush of the crowd before we began to play, its expectant weight.

I just didn't remember it like this. She was bare on that stage, and no amount of clothing would cover her up. She made love to every member of that audience, and with us as well as we watched again.

I remembered my dream. I'd been naked on stage. This was the same as the dream, only this time no one laughed. I bared the entirety of my soul, and people loved me for it.

My phone rang.

"We have the receipts from the contest, Keith."

"Richard?"

"Who else? Anyway, we sold out completely. After costs, that nets us another thirty-three hundred dollars. "

Well, something had to go right eventually.

"Thanks Richard."

His call reminded me of what the earlier call had been about.

I told the guys. They were understandably disappointed, but the news about selling about ten thousand dollars in swag at a small contest was nothing to sneeze at, and the profits were more than ten times our entrance fee.
***
I sulked on Sunday. I did go to church with Gretchen again. We went swimming afterwards without the drama of last week

Monday and Tuesday we had finals. We turned in books at the beginning of each class, probably since the teachers wanted to be done as quickly as we did. That meant that we had Yearbooks on Wednesday. Thursday was officially our first day of summer.

But, we're still on the horror that met me when I got to school on Monday.

Someone had printed out a poster of a screen shot of Desdemona from the contest. It was done on individual sheets of paper, and then pieced together on the wall like a giant jigsaw puzzle.

It had then been laminated, somehow. The end result was a plastic covered poster of me ten feet tall and thirteen feet wide.

People were worshiping at the feet of it, or more specifically looking at it a bit in awe.

"What's up?" I asked one of the kids I knew from Jazz band.

"Didn't you hear? Desdemona entered a contest, and then when it was stolen from her, she gave an impromptu concert. The video has received over seven hundred thousand hits."

"What video?"

"The one on YouTube. Actually it's videos, not just video. There are a bunch. The raw footage MTV shot is the best quality though."

"Take this down this instant."

It was Mr. Forrest. The poster was blocking the door to his classroom.

The ups and downs of the music industry have already struck us hard. We were flush for a moment, and then lost most of it. Where would tomorrow take us. I aced my tests of course, so that's not interesting, but there is still a wild summer ahead of me and the rest of the crew. My circle of friends is sure growing. Gretchen and I grow closer. Of course, Gretchen has her surgery to look forward to. And we will be putting out feelers to studios to try to "break in" to the biz.

Sarah Carerra and images from her concert are  © Megan Campbell. All rights reserved.