In which serenity is gained in the desert, Keith drives Gretchen's car without her permission, and videos are posted on YouTube.

So, I'd met Desdemona, or become her temporarily. And I was helping to create her mythos by purchasing $5400 earrings that Angelina said were too gaudy. We had met Richard Fields, who signed the band, well all except me. My Mom threw me out, so the chances of her actually signing the papers were negligible. Gretchen and I had gone on an epic all day date for our first official one, and I think we were about to get into our first fight.

We arrived home and Gretchen had still not said a word to me. I handed the keys back to her dad, and as soon as we were out of sight of him, she pulled me upstairs. "Five thousand dollars?"

"Um, well, they're actually fifty-four hundred." She gave me a 'not helping' look. "Etch, I have the money to cover it, and I wanted something for Desdemona that people would remember."

"Oh, they'll remember those alright. Have you considered that you can't take those out for a few weeks?"

"Oh shit."

"Yeah, exactly. You have to go to school the next three weeks with those earrings."

"I can't do this. People will connect me with Desdemona, and then all of this is pointless."

"No, it just becomes a little bit more difficult." She got a little smile on her face.

"Ok, you're creeping me out, Etch."

"How about we start rumors about Desdemona."

"Huh?"

"You and I were gone yesterday, right? Well, you say you went to a concert in. . .Denver? for a new singer called Desdemona. Say she's the one who inspired your. . .hand gear, and you decided to get some knockoffs of her earrings. Let people know she's going to be performing at Gothplosion."

"How is that going to work? I never went to Denver yesterday."

"Look, if you don't think it would be a good idea, then talk to Richard about it."

I did. He thought about it a moment, and then thought a moment longer. I almost thought we had been disconnected when he spoke again. "Ok, Keith, I agree with the plan overall, but we need to tweak it a bit. And, I need to look into merchandising now, since apparently she has knockoff earrings available when she does a show. Hmm, you have the original jewelers number?"

I gave it to him.

"Ok, then lastly, you met Desdemona after the show. She was losing her band, and needed a short term replacement so you offered that your friends play for her at Gothplosion. I assume no one there knows you are in a band? Good, keep it that way. From now on, Desdemona is the lead singer for Up in Flames, and always has been."

Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive. Sir Walter Scott sure knew what he was talking about. I'm going to need to start writing this all down so that I can remember what 'truths' belong to Desdemona.

"Oh, one last thing, Keith. I have a friend at a club in Denver. He owes me a big favor. As far as anyone will know, Desdemona played there. The name of the place is 'Hole in the Wall' and they have been known to let indie bands play there. For reasons I will not discuss, I have a hand stamp for the place. I will be by in twenty, since we have to make it real."

This guy was good.

"Um, Gretchen, how did you meet this guy?"

"He's my uncle."

"Your mother's brother? And he still talks to you?"

"He's the only one. Most of the family blame me for my Mom's mental breakdown."

I shouldn't have brought it up. Gretchen is afraid enough as it is. Schizophrenia is a genetic disorder after all, and she is so afraid of developing it herself. Yeah, I know. Talk about the poster children for the improbable made flesh.

We went downstairs. Such a simple phrase, and a simple act. Ok, I really am rambling now.

"Daddy, Keith can't sign with Uncle Rich because his Mom threw him out."

Thanks, Gretchen, for summing my crappy life up in a single sentence.

"Well, Keith, we have grounds to fast track an order of emancipation because of abandonment."

"Wait, what?"

"You knew I was a lawyer, Keith. Even if I'm not currently practicing."

"Well, I knew that, but you were a defense attorney."

"Just because I practiced a different sort of law, doesn't mean I don't have a good general understanding of it. I won't be representing you, however. I will get one of my old contacts in family law. You can meet Jordan tomorrow after school. The sooner we get this filed, the more likely we can get it in front of a judge."

Ok, so I had no hopes that this would work. When my father was being taken to court by the ORS for back child support, it had been months before we saw the judge the first time. I couldn't see how this would be any different.

"Aren't there other things we could do? Adoption or Fostering or something here?"

"Those would take a lot longer. We have a time limit. This is the best option. My friend will explain everything we need to get this put through."

Things just got better and better.

Richard stopped by and stamped my hand. I went up to my room and went to sleep. It was going to be another busy day tomorrow. I had just fallen asleep when someone jumped on my bed, and by someone I mean a bouncy Gretchen.

"Etch!"

"Do I need to call the Waambulance?"

I groaned. It was too late in the evening for bad jokes.

"I'm not done talking about those earrings, Mister."

"I'm trying to sleep, Etch."

"Don't think your conversation with Zeela went over my head, Keith. You were fully prepared to pay fifty-four hundred dollars for those."

"I needed. . ."

"Don't give me that. She knew you wanted them. You were looking for an excuse. Can you even afford them?"

"Yeah...barely."

"You need to be smarter about your money, Keith."

"You're not my Mom, Etch."

"I'm your girlfriend, which is more important in some ways, Keith."

Ok, she has a point. I mean, Moms have to live with your decisions. They might disapprove of your life choices, but ultimately you are a separate individual and not beholden to their choices for you. Girlfriends on the other hand need to be appeased, or you never see them again. Well, I suppose a parent can disown you, but that's more a case of self mutilation than anything else.

"Look, Etch, you know that my Mom had all of my dad's child support direct deposit to my account. That and my wages tend to keep me flush. I really want Desdemona to work out."

"We would have spent less on an image consultant."

"Ok, you're right. I'm sorry." Feeling a little impish, I flopped out of bed into a full prostration. "Can you ever forgive me, my Liege?"

She put her foot on my head. "I kind of like this look on you."

"Hey!" I twisted and pulled her down on top of me where we ended up in a tangle of limbs.

"Keep it down up there."

"Sorry, Daddy."

I disentangled myself before things got any more out of hand. "We really need some sleep, Etch, and you should probably go to your own bed."

She pouted a bit, but she got up and went back to her room. I remembered to lock the door this time. Not that I wouldn't have loved to spend some more quality time with her, it's just that with us getting closer and closer like this, I was afraid of something happening. I really didn't want to disappoint Tom. That and while I did love Gretchen, thinking about her dangly bits kinda turned me off.

Ok, so I'm a bad person, but at least I try to be honest with myself.

I slept fitfully that night, plagued by dreams of black curtains and shards of glass. I wonder why that was.

School was fun. I talked about Desdemona a lot. Told everyone she was my inspiration in a couple of things, including my nails. I'd never played the 12-string at school, so I didn't need to explain that. People asked me about the club stamp, and I told them about the concert. Their eyes started glazing over when I described hand positioning and such.

I had a wonderful day.

It was even better for me when I heard a couple of girls talking as I passed:

"Did you hear that Desdemona's playing at Gothplosion this year?"

"Isn't that a Goth thing?"

"Yeah, and MTV's showing it this year."

"I'm so gonna watch then."

"She also bought Angelina's earrings. You know, the ones she was going to wear for that movie?"

"She bought THOSE? I thought Angelina said no one would ever wear them?"

"Well, Keith is wearing a pair of knockoffs."

"That's so cool."

There were a couple of other overheard conversations, but that was probably the best. Two people talking about someone as if they were in the know. I smiled, realizing that the rumor mill was working for me.

I wondered where the rumor about the earrings had started, before I heard Jake talking to a couple of his friends. Ok, before you go off the deep end, I called Bobby and Jake before school to tell them the deal.

Apparently there were four of us fueling the Desdemona frenzy.

Yeah, I heard someone using Gretchen as a source.

The pinnacle of my day was when someone I'd never spoken to before in my life stopped me in the hall.

"I hear you went to the Up in Flames concert and spoke with Desdemona last night."

"Yep."

"Kewl. What's she like in person?"

I extracted myself as quickly as I could after passing some generic phrases his way. I didn't know how I felt about some guy having a crush on me. It was something I was going to have to get used to. I shuddered.

Ok, so that wasn't the highlight of my day. That came shortly after. "You ready to go?" Gretchen had glomped onto my arm as I was walking down the hall. Last period had just ended and I was on my way to my locker.

"Hey, Etch. Aren't you worried about what your friends will think?"

"Nah, you're the man of the hour. You actually met Desdemona."

"This is so insane."

"No, what's insane is that Desdemona already has a website."

"What?!"

"Yeah, someone told me at lunch. They knew that you and I talked, and they wanted to know if you had any pictures for it. I gave them some, telling them that they were before she got the 'Angelina Earrings'"

This was insane. Desdemona was the most popular girl in school. What in the world had I done to get myself into this?

After stopping by my locker, and dropping off the book I wouldn't need to finish my already completed homework, we headed out to Gretchen's car.

Tom's associate worked in Salt Lake, so we had a nice long drive ahead of us. We held hands while Gretchen drove. Well, when she didn't need to shift gears. No we didn't do the 'cute' little passenger shifting gears thing.

We found a parking garage a couple of blocks away from his office and got out to walk. Sure, Salt Lake has wide streets, but there is almost nowhere to park. Especially since they brought the tram system in.

Well, walking is good for you.

I had assumed that his associate was male. Look at the budding misogynist. Jordan Cox was anything but male. If I hadn't had Gretchen there on my arm, I probably would have made a fool of myself, and I wasn't that articulate as it was.

"I got the particulars from Tom, I just need to know some specific details."

We went over my bank accounts, and how much was in them. We covered my job and other plans. She said I would have to be evaluated by a psychiatrist regarding my understanding of the situation. I would be able to use Gretchen and Tom as witnesses to my Mom's behavior. I paid a retainer, and we were off to the races, so to speak.

"Before you leave, Keith, I would like to try and call your mother to see if she will voluntarily allow emancipation. If that is the case, we could be done very quickly."

I gave her my mother's work phone, and she called her up, "Dr. Loftgren's office, Tracy Robison speaking."

"Hello, Tracy, I'm Jordan Cox. I've been hired by your son to initiate a temporary order of emancipation so he can take care of legal issues of consent while he is not residing with you. We would be revisiting this in six months time, so it would just be for the next half a year."

"That ungrateful little punk really thinks he can live on his own? Fine. Where do I sign?"

Ok, so that's not the response that I expected. We made an appointment to meet to sign the papers on Friday.

We scheduled an appointment with the child psychologist for tomorrow. That was Thursday. Two days to take care of the paperwork so I could sign with my manager.

We went home, enjoying each other's company as she drove. The truck came out of nowhere. It was one of those oversize loads carrying those huge sections of pipe. It broke free, tumbling onto the road. I saw it rolling toward us as Gretchen tried futilely to stop. I heard the sound of tortured metal before I jerked awake with a start. Apparently I'd fallen asleep.

We'd just gotten home, and the car stopping had influenced my dream.

"You're cute when you sleep."

What guy wants to be called cute? Ok, I admit, I kind of liked it coming from her.

We lay down on my bed and just talked. You know, the natural easy conversation of friends. It was like a million other conversations going on in that moment, and completely unique to itself. As it continued, her responses got further and further apart. Eventually she just stopped responding. I turned over to see what was going on, and realized that she was asleep.

I lay there and simply watched her sleeping. I was still amazed that she'd let me catch her. At some point I must have nodded off myself, since the next thing I knew I was looking into her eyes and the morning sun was streaming in through my window.

"Mornin' Handsome."

"Mornin' Beautiful."

"But my hair's a mess, and. . ."

"You're always beautiful to me."

That earned me a quick kiss before Gretchen got up to get ready for the day.

School was school, and Desdemona Fever was rampant. It was suddenly as if Desdemona had always existed. I overheard someone telling their friend that they'd purchased tickets for the Up in Flames concert last summer, but hadn't been able to go.

What in the hell?!

I couldn't have been this popular on my own if I had tried. I mean, who did Desdemona think she was, mooching in on my audience? This was supposed to be my moment. What right did she have? She'd brought the entire school behind her, not just the half that I could relate to.

I was in a horrible mood by the end of the school day, which was only somewhat improved by Gretchen. Ok, so it was a lot improved by Gretchen. I think it's physically impossible for me to be upset in her presence.

We drove over to my appointment with the psychologist. We had a decent conversation about a number of things. I think she was trying to get my general understanding of how the world worked. I talked with my lawyer later that evening, and she told me that we had everything I needed for tomorrow.

"Jordan, I have another question. I need to establish a legal alias."

"That shouldn't be too difficult."

"My alias needs to be female."

"Why?"

"Ok, so I am going to be signing a contract with a talent manager. I will be singing as a girl."

"There aren't many guys I know of who could pull that off."

"Toss me on speaker phone, I know the quality will suck, but you'll get the idea."

"Ok, ready."

I sang the chorus to 'Black Flag'. It is a sort of show case of my range. It starts at an A above middle C and goes up from there.

"Ok, if that wasn't a recording, then I'm convinced. Legally, however, you're male. You don't have plans otherwise, do you?"

"Oh, no. I'm perfectly happy with who I am."

"Ok, let me look into it. I'm not sure what we're going to be able to do in that regard, and probably we are just going to have to create it as a stage persona."

"Ok, well, thanks for the effort."

"Not so fast. Hmmmm. Ok, I'll get back in touch with you. I'm not sure how it would stand up in a court of law, but I have a way we could potentially take care of it. You leave it to me. I should be able to get this done before Monday."

My lawyer talking about skirting the law for me was a little much, and I was glad, for once, that I actually had homework to do. Like I said: I finish it in class usually.

I finished my homework and Gretchen and I went swimming. No skinny dipping this time. We started getting a little too into it, so I decided a cold shower was in order. For me at least. She laughed at me when I got out.

"I guess you really do like me."

"Oh, shut up."

I lay on top of my covers, thinking about the past week. Tomorrow was Friday. Jazz concert in the evening, after signing papers at two places. Yes, I'd called Richard and told him that I should be emancipated tomorrow afternoon. We had a grand total of fifteen songs that we'd practiced off and on during the past five years we'd been playing at being a band. Of those, only 'My Life with You is Hell' really struck me as something worthy of an album. 'Black Flag' would probably work as well. We'd need more songs. I toyed for a moment with the idea of doing covers of songs for other artists. When I thought about singing 'U + Ur Hand' by Pink, I really lost it. I laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Me singing 'U + Ur Hand.'"

She giggled at that. "How 'bout, 'Just a Girl?'" I only hope No Doubt won't kill me for that one.

Well, we had two more songs for the album, since I think the irony of both of those songs would be delicious. That left me to write, or steal, another eight to twelve more songs. For an album that would probably never happen.

We kissed goodnight.

With no new information, or concrete evidence, Desdemona Fever was cooling a bit, and Sarah Carerra was starting to be a new topic of conversation, at least with the sophomore and junior girls. The freshman class went to the junior high school in our district so I'm not sure who they were talking about. Sure, Sarah Carerra was cute, and she had a great voice, but she was a little too much teen pop for my tastes. To each his, or her, own. Yes, I'd finally heard 'Intuition.' Some girls were playing it in the quad today.

Classes over for the day, and another week done, we drove up to Salt Lake to sign the first of the documents. My mother glared at me the entire time. She signed first, and then I signed. The notary dated and stamped it.

And just like that, I was an adult for the next six months.

It was really anticlimactic.

We called Richard and made a stop by his office. I showed him my copy of the paperwork, and signed my name on the line. That was a lot more important to me than a piece of paper telling me what I'd known for the past couple of years: I was raising myself.

The contract with Richard was a part of my future. Provided anything went right, I would soon be a living breathing rock star. Just a female one. Every time I thought about that, it creeped me out. I was male. I knew I was male. No, I'm not just trying to convince myself.

I mean, come on. Who wouldn't wonder with a friend like Gretchen? That's one of the things that we talked about. A lot. It was so interesting to me, the path her life had taken her on. I just knew that it wasn't my path. I could wear Desdemona's clothes, but she was me, not I her. Ok, that was about the most grammatically convoluted sentence that I have ever written. At dawn, the author will be drug out into the street and shot. No last minute commutation of sentence allowed.

We drove home, and I changed into the clothing for the concert. Tom had purchased a new shirt and pants for me today, since my old ones were now torn. I should have done it for myself, but with all the trips hither, thither, and yon I hadn't had the time I needed. Ok, that's an excuse. I just didn't do it. I need to take better care of myself.

Jazz is fun. I had a couple of solos in the concert. The first one, since it was in the right key, I did as variations on the chorus from 'My Life with You is Hell.' The second I weaved back and forth between 'Black Flag' and the verse from 'My Life with You is Hell.' Standing O, thank you very much. It was only after the concert that I worried that I might be giving too much of Desdemona away.

Saturday we practiced. I gave them what I had figured out for 'Black Flag,' and they gave me a bass and percussion line. When we were done, we had two songs in our repertoire. I mentioned that we might want to do some covers of other bands music, and Bobby was the first to mention 'Just a Girl,' and Jake wholeheartedly agreed. I'd already printed off the tabs for myself and Jake. Bobby thought that was the most hilarious thing he had ever seen, and it took us half an hour to get him calmed down enough to come up with a percussion line. We had 'Just a Girl' ready in another thirty minutes.

I hammed it up a bit, and Jake and Bobby said that if we ever do a show, and play that song, that I need to bring those moves into it. I said I'd think about it.

I didn't need to think about it. There was no way in heck I was going to act that girly on stage. I'm embarrassed I acted that girly in Jake's garage.

Sunday, I went to church with Gretchen. She and her father were members of a different faith than my mother and I, but I just couldn't bring myself to go alone to my previous place of worship. Talk about a culture shock. It was almost as if we didn't believe in the same God. Did I even want to believe in a God that didn't accept Gretchen for who she was?

I thought about that for the rest of the service. I tried to put on a happy face for Gretchen, but I knew she wasn't buying it. I decided it was high time for a hike. Nature calms me. I get out into the scrub, beyond sight of the town, and just feel the vastness of all creation. It's the first place where I truly knew that a God existed. I know that it doesn't work that way for everyone, and maybe I just have an impressionable nature, but I see God in the world around me, and the desert is my place of communion. Unfortunately, I wasn't in the mood to be calmed today.

I have to say that I yelled at Him. I told him off for creating issues like what Gretchen lives through. I berated him for allowing bigotry and hatred. I questioned how a loving father could ever truly allow mankind to exist. In that moment I almost felt that another flood would serve us right. I hated myself as much as I hated God. I won't relate even the tenth of what I said to God. I will relate what I felt afterward.

I felt peace. I don't know why, but I did. I think that God wants us to choose our path in this life, and loves us no matter what choices we make. If only we could learn a bit from Him.

Sure, he has the choices that he would prefer that we make, but it is up to each of us to come to terms with him about it.

I walked out of the desert changed. Not in any overt way, but in minor ways. I was ready, I hoped, for anything that this world had to throw at me in the next few weeks. I'm sure that I would need it.

Gretchen was already in the pool when I got back, and so I jumped in, with all my clothing still on.

"Keith!"

"What?"

"You got me wet!"

"You were in the pool." Big cake-eating smile.

"But I didn't want to get my hair wet. Now I have to wash it."

I'd love to help. No, I didn't say that aloud, afraid I wouldn't be able to resist if she invited me along. Afraid that she would invite me to help. I really need to control my fantasies. I think my eyes glazed over a bit thinking about it.

She splashed me in the face.

We splashed back and forth a bit, and then I picked her up and dunked her. She came up, having held her breath, and kissed me.

She won. She usually does. Girls have unfair advantages.

I let her have the shower first, and I changed rather than drip onto their carpeting. I'd gotten my good clothes wet, but after wearing them for the concert, and to church, and out in the desert, I figured they needed a good washing. Not wanting the chlorine to eat at them any more than it already had, I rinsed them out in the sink in the laundry room before tossing them, along with the rest of a load, into the washing machine.

I'm not a total slob, after all.

Have you ever actually looked at a ceiling before? We tend to ignore them, assuming that there just there. I was staring at the ceiling, thinking strange thoughts when a human missile attacked me. I must have closed my eyes because I hadn't even noticed Gretchen stalking me, like some blonde jungle cat looking for dinner. It wasn't until I grabbed her to try and save myself that I realized she was naked. Well, almost naked. She was wearing her underwear.

"Um, Etch? This probably isn't a good idea."

"I locked your door."

"Babe, you know I love you, right?"

"Well, part of you loves me," she said with a knowing smirk.

"Hon, I know you think you want this. Heck, I think I want this. This just isn't the right time."

"I knew you were lying to me."

"Gretchen, stop."

She'd gotten up and moved over to the door. I jumped from the bed, and hugged her from behind as she tried to open the lock.

"Etch, stop for a moment."

"Let me go." She was getting louder, and I'm sure her dad heard us. I unlocked the door for her. She ran for her room and slammed the door.

I went and sat down next to it and tried to talk to her through the door. "Your father took me in, Etch. He allowed me to stay here with his beautiful daughter in the next room. I couldn't betray that trust. I won't betray that trust.

"Etch, I love you. I love you more than breath, or music, or anything. I would give up almost anything to be with you forever. Just not this. Don't ask this of me, please? I just about wasn't strong enough to refuse you."

"If you loved me, you would have accepted me." Gretchen had thrown on some clothing and was rushing for the door.

I tried to make a grab for her, but she avoided me. I shouted for her Dad, "Tom! Help me!"

I ran outside and stood behind her car. She revved her engine and yelled out the window at me, "If you don't get out of my way, I'll drive over you."

This was insane. What had caused this. "Gretchen? Keith? What's going on?"

I hated having this discussion in the road, but I couldn't move for fear that Gretchen would leave. In her current state I had no idea what would happen. "Gretchen threw herself at me, literally, and when I said no, she flew off the handle."

"You're only pretending to love me. Neither of you really want me around. I can do better on my own." She began to move the car, and I braced for the impact, but it never came. I opened my eyes and saw Tom standing between me and the car.

"Gretchen, honey, turn off the car please."

She broke down and cried. I walked to the car door, opened it up, and took her into my arms. "It's ok, Etch. Everything's going to be ok."

"I'm ugly, and bloated, and no one really loves me as I am. How is that ok?"

I kissed her. I just kissed her until she relaxed, and then I kissed her some more. Ok, so maybe girls don't have all of the advantages.

When I finally stopped using my cruel and unusual punishment, she had a goofy grin on her face and threw her arms around my neck. I think she even squealed, but I'm not sure because of the pounding in my ears.

"Gretchen, you may want to let your boyfriend go before you kill him."

We walked back inside, and into the front room. Gretchen cuddled next to me on the couch. "I don't know why I did that. I've been feeling weird all week."

"Your doctor told us that there might be some side effects from stopping the hormone treatments."

I looked quizzically at Gretchen.

"I had to for my surgery." She looked embarrassed to be admitting this.

"Not going to get any worse, is it?"

"Oh god, I hope not."

Gretchen didn't want me to leave her, again, so we ended up lying on her bed. We fell asleep together again. Waking up beside her was something I could get used to. She was so beautiful lying there. I woke up first this time, and got to see her open her eyes and realize I was still there.

It was a beautiful moment.

"Good morning, Beautiful."

"Morning, Handsome."

She kissed me and then made a face, "Blech, morning breath."

I smiled at her, "You were the one who kissed me, remember?"

"And I want to do it again, so go brush your teeth."

I got up and performed my morning rites. Gretchen was in the bathroom in a flash after I shut off the water. We kissed and she seemed a lot more satisfied with the results this time. "Now, get out so I can shower and change."

"Right away, Miss Bossy Pants."

She hit me playfully on the arm as I left the room.

The day passed quickly, and the number one topic of conversation? Of course, Sarah Carerra and her #8 single. I still heard things here and there about Desdemona, but it seemed that without anything to feed it, Desdemona Fever was going the way of the dinosaur. For a moment I felt panicked, and needed to do something about it. But did I really? The only reason we'd started the rumor mill was to explain away the earrings if anyone connected them to me through the contest on Friday.

I wonder what 'Bodies' would sound like sung by Desdemona. I wonder what sort of arrangement I would need to make with Drowning Pool to actually get it. It sort of really fit my mood, if not her style, in that moment. What am I talking about? We were the final arbiters on what was, and was not, our style. Sure, we were a Goth band, but we were also Metal, and Experimental.

In between classes, I called Richard. "Does fair use cover producing a video of us singing 'Bodies' and putting it on YouTube?"

"Where did this come from, Keith?"

"Well, I don't know, I guess it's just that Desdemona seems to be losing ground to this Sarah Carerra person at my school. I know, the rumors were only for the concert for pre-damage control, but I kind of liked the second hand popularity, well a bit at least."

"Isn't the lead singer of Drowning Pool male?"

"Well, yeah. . .wait you know 'Bodies?'"

"No, but Google is a wonderful thing."

I chuckled a bit at this.

"Let me get back to you on this one, Keith. We may have some out of pocket for this one, but let me get the information before we make any decisions."

I finished the rest of the day, and was driving home with Gretchen, when the phone rang. "How soon can you be up here, Keith?"

"Hello, Jordan. What's the big rush?"

"We found a, barely, legal way for you to get an ID with your alias as female. Don't ask me to go into particulars, and chances are if we are taken to court it won't hold up, but let's just say that until something is specifically proscribed, in this case it's legal. Since it isn't a separate identity, and is legally still you, nothing says that your alternate identity can't present as female."

"Um...are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be. Trust me on this one, kid. Oh, and can you come up here as Desdemona? I have a friend at the DMV who will get us in and get you a license."

Well, at least she knew a good criminal defense attorney if this all blew up in our faces.

"Etch, change of plans. Desdemona needs to go to Salt Lake."

She giggled and squealed. I wasn't even sure that was possible with the human larynx. We got to Gretchen's house, and she pulled me upstairs. She spend a couple of minutes searching through her drawers and then pulled out a couple of. . .breasts?

"What are. . .?"

"Breast forms, silly. They will give you a bit of padding up front."

I suddenly realized what she wanted to do.

"Um, can we talk about this?"

"Desdemona needs to be female, Keith. That means sometimes, she needs to have breasts. We can explain it away with costumes like the corset, but other times, it will just be too weird."

"This whole thing is too weird."

"Do it for me?" Game, set, match, puppy dog eyes and pouty lips.

Within minutes, Gretchen was putting the final touches on the girliest makeup I've ever worn. Ok, I had to admit it didn't look half bad on me.

She wanted to pluck my eyebrows a bit, but I drew the line there. Desdemona was supposed to be a little androgynous after all and my eyebrows had never been all that thick.

A pair of jeans, and a black tee-shirt. The pink boots and hair. And the bra and panties. I wondered if I'd ever get used to them. Part of me hoped I wouldn't.

I looked in the mirror, and had to admit I didn't look that bad.

"Let's get this over with."

She kissed me for luck, and we were out the door and on our way to Salt Lake. We met Jordan outside the DMV, and she handed me some papers to sign.

"What are these?"

"It is a legal establishment of alternate identity."

"Ok, I trust you Jordan."

I signed the papers, after reading through them quickly. We went inside through the employee entrance. He wasn't what I expected. He was a bit like Santa Claus is supposed to be: Fat, jolly, and white bearded.

"So, you actually want a license with the single name Desdemona on it, huh? Trying to be a bit like Madonna are we? Well, not to worry. We'll have you all fixed up in no time."

I filled out the paper work, and then came to the signature line. I thought for a moment, and then scrawled something that looked vaguely like Desdemona. It would look good on a poster anyway. The big D was recognizable, and the word became more indistinct as it went on.

We took the picture, me smiling like a maniac. "Um, could you take the earrings out?" I looked at the picture and saw what he meant. They caused a bit of a flash and washed the sides of the photo out.

"I just got my ears pierced, and need to keep them in."

"Pretty girl like you? I'd think you would have gotten them pierced long ago. Oh well. We work with what we've got."

He took a couple of more shots, adjusting my head minutely each time. We ended up with an almost professional looking glamour shot. For my ID. Well, it would definitely be interesting to flash that, to say the least.

"So, what do you think?" I asked, showing Gretchen my new ID. Apparently it paid to come to where they were made to get your work done.

"I only wish that my ID looked that good."

My phone rang. "Desdemona, speaking."

"Keith?"

"Sorry, Richard. Having a bit of fun. Jordan got the alias thing taken care of and we just got my new ID."

"That was fast. I have some information for you. According to their agent, we can pay a onetime fee for the song, since we are an indie band, and we can use it how we see fit, as long as all recordings we use are 100% our own, nothing of theirs."

"Ok, so how much."

"There's the problem. He said it would be a thousand."

"I have the money for it, Richard, but there's someone I want to discuss it with first. Can I call you back?"

"Sure thing, Desi."

"Desi?"

"There's no way you're going to get me to keep referring to your character by the full name. It's a mouthful."

I laughed and ended the call. Did I really want to do this? Should I even do this? It wasn't my music, but it really touched me on a certain level right now. And we would have permanent use rights to it.

"You still with us, Desdemona?"

"Desi," I answered automatically, not really paying attention to what was going on around me.

"What?"

"Oh, sorry, Jordan. Richard, my agent, suggested that as a short form. You know, for informal situations. What were you saying?"

"I was asking you if there was anything else you needed?"

"What is all of this costing?" I'd suddenly realized I might not have as much money as I'd thought.

"Tom covered it. Just let him know that he owes me that date he's been promising for the past ten years."

I was a bit shocked, but Gretchen giggled, "I'll let him know. Thanks Jordan."

"Take care of yourself, Gretchen." They hugged and Jordan turned to me, "If I ever convince that man to marry me, I'm going to be Gretchen's step-mom. So, you better take good care of her for me until I do."

Ok. Now I have reached confusion level five. It must have showed on my face.

"Jordan's had a crush on my Dad since law school. She knows he's married, but she never gives up."

"Divorce isn't a four letter word, you know, Gretchen."

"No, it's a seven letter one." Gretchen stuck her tongue out as she was saying this.

"Take care you two."

I was about to broach the subject of purchasing the use rights when Gretchen picked up her phone. "Hello? Oh, Hi Daddy." After this she listened for a moment, and then the blood drained out of her face. I saw her swaying a bit, and rushed over to catch her. I lowered her carefully to the ground and picked up her phone.

"Hello? Hello?! Gretchen!?"

"Tom, It's me. She fainted."

I heard the pain in his voice as he spoke, "Her mother is dead. Suicide. Apparently the medication they had her on wasn't dosed right and she suffered a depressive episode."

"I'll get her home, Sir." I hung up the phone, and searched her purse for keys. I got them and then got Gretchen into the passenger seat. I helped her into her seat and got her belted in, then got myself into the driver's seat. As usual, I only had to make minor adjustments.

We were off and flying. Apparently it was a bit too fast. I was not really paying attention to anything but getting Gretchen home when I saw flashing lights in my rear view mirror. I looked at the speedometer, and had one of those moments. I was doing a hundred miles an hour.

I pulled over quickly and put the car in park.

"What's going on? Keith?"

"It's Desi right now, remember?"

"What's wrong, Desi? Why are we pulled over."

"I was kinda not paying attention, and was speeding."

Gretchen reached into her glove box and pulled out her insurance information and her registration.

I heard a knock on the window. I looked up. And up. And up. I rolled down my window. The giant of an officer spoke to us in a rolling baritone. "Evening, ladies. Do you know how fast you were going?"

"Not until I saw your flashing lights. It was about a hundred at that point, but I might have pulled my foot off the accelerator when they startled me."

"That's pretty close to what I clocked you at. What was the big rush?"

"Gretchen's Mom just died. I was trying to get her home to her father."

"Could I get your license and registration please?"

I handed my new license over with Gretchen's paper work.

"Wait, are you that Desdemona that my son's been raving about for the past week? If so, I have to say you look a lot different without your stage makeup. Same pink hair."

"Wanna see my combat boots?" I lifted my foot a bit so that he could see the pink thing.

"Ok, I believe you. Tell you what. You give me an autograph for my son, and I'll let you off with a warning."

He handed me a blank sheet of paper. "What's your son's name?"

"William. He usually goes by Buddy though."

I wrote out on the paper. 'To Buddy, for a great first impression,' and then the sprawling signature I'd devised.

"Will that work?"

"Yes, that'll be fine. Just make sure you slow down, Ok ladies?"

"Yes, Officer," Gretchen and I chimed together.

After I'd put up the window and begun to drive again, Gretchen spoke, "You are a natural. You're really getting into this character, aren't you?"

"It's still just a role, Gretchen. I have to constantly think about what I'm going to do, or what I'm going to say. Acting. I've done a lot of it over the years."

"It didn't look like acting to me."

"Well, when you do it right, it's not supposed to."

Ok, this could be a problem It's not like I was trying to alienate my girlfriend, and I didn't even know why this was so important to her. I'd always known I was a boy.

Well, that's not quite true. Before I'd turned seven or eight, I just didn't realize there was a difference. There were people who were adults and people who were kids and that was the only distinction I made. I accidentally saw my Mom in the shower at that time, and realized that she wasn't the same as me under her clothing.

Yeah, I was a bit oblivious as a kid. I was lost in thought, when Gretchen tried to get my attention again. "You haven't been giving me a problem, at all, with dressing in girl's clothing."

"Etch. . ."

"How do you feel in that clothing?"

"Normal. It's clothing."

"But, you have long nails. . ."

"On one hand to make playing my guitar easier."

"But. . ."

"You know how bad I am with kids."

"That doesn't necessarily mean anything. . ."

"Etch. . ."

"No, Desi. You are dismissing this out of hand. I love you no matter what, you know that?"

I'd started the car and we were moving forward already, at a much slower pace than before. Was she right? Had I just not given it any thought? Clothing felt like clothing to me. Even when we'd done Hamlet in Reverse and I'd gotten the role of Ophelia and worn the flowing skirts envisioned my (by) the director. Men in Scotland wore skirts, and called them kilts. It didn't really make a difference to me either way. Could that be because I was secretly a girl?

"I don't think of myself as a girl, Etch, but I don't think of myself as a guy either. I don't really think about my gender much. I am."

"Desi. . ."

"Etch, really. I don't think that way. I love you, and respect your chosen path. I know, I know. You feel like it is necessary for you."

"Desi, but, you seem to shine as Desdemona. You are so. . .behind the scenes as Keith."

"I am King of the Geeks as Keith, Etch. Haven't you ever noticed that there are two societies at our school? One in which you run, and the other where I am? I was as popular in my crowd, as you were in yours. I have lots of friends at school, but they are school friends. We don't hang outside of school, just like you hang with me and not your school friends."

Her expression fell a bit. It was as if she was realizing something about herself that she wasn't ready to admit.

"You really like the way I look in girl's clothing, don't you?"

She nodded silently. She opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it again. I gave her a moment to collect her thoughts, comfortable in the silence between us.

"I liked you a lot before you first dressed as Desdemona. You were always there for me, and I wanted you to get over yourself and just ask me out or something. When you first dressed as Desdemona, something clicked inside me. It was as if I was seeing you for the first time, and I needed you to. . .be with me."

"I saw that in your eyes. That's why I kissed you."

"But you were so much more alive in that moment."

"I was myself. I'd been wanting to kiss you since the moment I first saw you, but I always felt that I would lose your friendship if I did. When I saw your need, I figured it was now or never."

"So, you didn't feel a sort of release dressing up?"

"No," I chuckled at the thought. "Look, Etch, you still see me as a boy, even in these clothes, right?"

"I see you as Keith, yes."

"Ok, I still feel like Keith in these clothes, even with these breasts you gave me. No, don't think I'm starting any hormones to get my own. I know these breasts are part of my clothing. I can take them off. But, if you would like me to dress this way at home, I am happy to do so. I won't do it all the time, but it's not something I am opposed to."

"What does this mean?"

"It means that I am still Keith, but Desdemona can come out to play occasionally."

The squeal of delight from Gretchen told me that I'd said something right. She kissed me on the cheek. "Careful, Etch. I'm driving here."

"You didn't even take your eyes of the road."

We made it home without any further incidents. Gretchen and I talked about inconsequential things. I pulled into her driveway and turned off the car. "Thank you, Keith."

"For what?"

"For taking my mind off my Mom."

She kissed me on the cheek and walked inside. I could really get used to this.

There was a lot of crying, and some reminiscing of better times. I only realized when I lay in bed with a sleeping Gretchen in my arms, that I hadn't gotten the chance to tell her about the song.

Because of the problem on Sunday, Tom had already scheduled Gretchen for an appointment with her counselor, so she dropped me off at school the next day, and went off to her appointment. She'd be arriving later in the day. Since we were preparing for finals she couldn't miss any more days.

"Hey, Bobby, guess what?"

"Um, you're going full time as Desdemona?"

"No. I have something of hers, though." I showed him the ID.

"Wow, man, you're smokin' in this picture."

"Thanks I think."

"What's going on?" Jake asked as he came up.

"Desdemona's hot."

"Sure, but what made you think of that?"

Bobby snatched the ID from my hand and showed it to Jake. "Damn, Keith, if I didn't know better, there's no way I'd think this was you in drag. Wait, when did you get the wig back?"

"Gretchen had three pairs of the boots and two wigs. I wore the second one yesterday when I got this taken. Oh, before I forget, there's a possibility of us getting a use license for 'Bodies.'"

Jake just gaped at me. Bobby found his voice first, "You're shittin' me. As in Drowning Pool."

"Yep."

Jake looked at me strangely, "Is being Desdemona changing you? First Pink and No Doubt, now you're willing to shill for Drowning Pool. You used to say that we'd only ever do our own songs.."

That stopped me. Was I changing? Sure, the two 'girl' songs I was only doing because of Desdemona. . .ok so 'Bodies' was a cry against Desdemona as well, but it was Keith fighting back. When did I get to be so complicated?

"Ok, so maybe I want to do 'Bodies' because it's what I feel, and I don't have to write my own song when it expresses it so perfectly."

"Chill a bit, Keith. Jake didn't mean anything by it, right Jake?"

"Yeah, man, I was just making a comment."

"Sorry, guys, girl drama, and by that I mean Gretchen."

"What, she doesn't like you as Desdemona? I mean if it's a choice between Gretchen and the band, you choose the band right?"

"If it was a choice, Gretchen wins and you know it. No, she likes me a little too much as Desdemona. . ."

"Oh. . ." Bobby responded, but I think the image of Gretchen and I going at it, both of us looking like girls, broke Jake's mind.

"Snap out of it, bro."

Jake shook himself, and wiped his chin, to make sure there wasn't any drool there.

"Ok, that was an image that I wouldn't mind seeing again. . ."

"Jake. . ." I said with a warning tone in my voice.

"What image?" sometimes innuendo went right over Bobby's head. For a smart guy, he was kinda dense sometimes.

"Desdemona and Gretchen."

Ok, this time Bobby glazed over. "I'm standing right here, guys."

"Have you seen that picture? I mean seriously Keith. Don't think of it as yourself. Just look at it."

I looked at my ID again. Ok, it was really for the first time. One thing you don't want to get in tight jeans is aroused.

"Crap, I see your point." I tried to adjust myself inconspicuously while Bobby and Jake snickered at me. Apparently I was showing pretty clearly because one of the girls passing by in the hall went beet red after looking at me. She looked like she wanted to die after I noticed her looking.

I turned back to my two friends, and they were smirking at me.

"There's a reason that the fanboys are still hot on her tail."

"So, the license for 'Bodies' would be a thousand."

Jake and Bobby looked a bit stunned. "Well, there goes that idea. I know that I've only got about a hundred to my name," Bobby said when he regained his voice.

"Yeah, I've got about thirty cents."

"Guys, money's not the issue. I can afford to pay the fee."

Both of them looked at me strangely. "Keith, how much money do you have?"

"Enough. I don't really want to go into it."

"Spill. You know our finances."

I quietly said, "Six thousand in checking."

"Um, do you have a savings account?"

"Yeah, don't you guys?"

They looked at each other, then back at me, "You are the most adult teenager we know. We don't have savings accounts."

"Yeah, man, we have nothing."

"Um." I blushed and couldn't think what to say. "Well. . .I have almost a hundred thousand in savings. It is supposed to be my college fund. My parents and I have been putting into it since I was born, and it is a long term, high yield, account."

"Dude, you're rich. Why don't you hire a lawyer to resolve the issue with your Mom so you can sign?" Bobby just nodded his assent.

"Oh, yeah, about that. I'm emancipated for the next six months and I already signed."

"You are an adult." We all laughed at that.

"Let's do it. Let's film us doing 'Bodies' and post it to YouTube. You know my Dad has a professional digital video camera." Bobby's Dad was a wedding photographer, who did both stills and video.

We still had some time left on lunch, so I called up Richard. "Hello? Keith?"

"Yeah, the band wants to pick up 'Bodies,' if it's still on offer."

"It should be. So, you can cover the fee?"

"Yes. Can you take it from a credit card, or what?"

"Yeah, give me your card number."

I trusted him only because he was family, well Gretchen's family. Crap.

"I'm sorry to make you work today. I completely spaced what happened."

"I like working through things like this, Keith. Don't worry about it. I'd long ago resigned myself to the fact that she was dead to us. This just made it real. Thanks for your concern."

I hung up with and at my friends questioning looks, I said, "Gretchen's Mom died last night. Richard is Gretchen's uncle."

"Oh, is Gretchen ok?"

"Her Mom's been away for a long time. It's more a case of her never coming back, than losing her in the first place."

"Someone talking about me?" I was glomped again. It was the second time this had happened at school, and I knew that this time It wasn't because of Desdemona, well not directly.

"Hey, Gretchen," Jake said in welcome, and Bobby gave her a small wave.

"Hey, Etch, how'd it go?"

She looked really happy, "Apparently I am adjusting well, and he puts my worries last week, and Sunday, to a hormone imbalance."

I wondered if she should be saying stuff about it right now, since Jake and Bobby didn't know everything about her. I wasn't even sure if they knew about her surgery, which was planned for after school let out this year.

Gretchen answered that question next, "I'm still scheduled for my surgery to resolve the problem the Monday after school gets out."

"Great," I said and kissed her. I'd planned it as a little peck, but she didn't let me go, and it got a little heavy. "Mr. Robison, Ms. Anderson. This is a school, not a bordello."

"Yes, Mrs. Leary," Gretchen and I chimed together. She glared at us, but we couldn't hold it and giggled. Crap, I giggled. What was up with that?

"Just see you remember it." Mrs. Leary was the principal, and was a bit of a stickler where public displays were concerned.

The bell rang and we headed off to class. The rest of the day went fairly quickly and I was once again in Gretchen's car on the way to her house.

"How you doing, Etch."

"It's a bit surreal. I know Mom's not coming back, but I think I already mourned her. I haven't seen her in over two years."

"I remember that trip."

"So, what are you going to wear for the video?"

"Um, the same thing as for the concert?"

"I don't think so, Keith. Desdemona is a girl. Girls like different clothing. She's going to wear something else for this video."

I thought of arguing a bit more over this, but the look in her eye changed my mind, "Yes, dear." She giggled, so I must have scored some points.

Jake and Bobby came over to our place, since they needed costumes for this video as well.

"Keith, I want you to shave your legs."

"Um. . ." I'd succeeded in getting this far without shaving my legs, why did that have to change now?

"Because I want you to wear a skirt."

"Um. . .I wore leggings with the last skirt."

"This one will look better with bare legs."

It wasn't worth the argument. I wore pants to school anyway.

While the guys worked with Gretchen on their costumes, I shaved my legs. Really new experience. I don't think I spent this much effort shaving my face in a given month.

Ok, I'll admit. Shaved legs are sexy, even if they're yours. I might just continue shaving them for the feel. I came back in the room, and Gretchen kicked the other two out. From somewhere Gretchen pulled a pair of pink stiletto boots. Of course they fit. It was a little disturbing to me that I wore the same clothing size as my girlfriend.

She pulled out the skirt she wanted me to wear. I'm not sure what the style is actually called, but it was interesting looking. There was an over skirt, with a point in front and back. The under skirt had a point on each side. It kind of looked like an upside down tulip. The underskirt was purple and the over skirt was a deep, almost navy, blue.

I had never felt so exposed, and at the same time covered as I did in that skirt. The way that Gretchen was appreciating the way it draped against my bare legs did it for me as well. Ok, I liked the skirt, a lot.

She arranged the false breasts in a bandeau, hiding them, and making some of my skin push out of the top. It was a fairly tight bandeau. She gave me a sort of poncho thing for the top, which covered me until I moved. We mixed up some white cake with a touch of blue and just a hint of red and went to town. When we finished, I was covered from my head to my waist in cake. We left my legs alone. We put a coat of purple on my nails, both hands. Some eye shadow, and a touch of black on my cheeks and lips and I was ready to go. After putting on the wig we let the boys back in, and they just stood there.

"Wow. Dude. You've got breasts."

"They're rubber."

"Still, you've got cleavage as well."

"Will you two just finish getting into costume so we can do this?"

I decided to practice in the stiletto heels while Gretchen worked on the makeovers for the other two. It was a lot easier to get the hang of than I thought it'd be. Not easy by any stretch, but not impossible. I was actually able to make some decent headway when Jake and Bobby came out. I'd never realized how ripped Bobby had gotten moving his Behemoth around. Without a shirt, and makeup designed to highlight it, he looked like a Greek god. He almost looked metallic. I don't know where Gretchen got the kilt from, but Jake was wearing one. He had a black tee-shirt on top. "We ready to do this, guys?"

Three hours from the moment we arrived until we had a complete music video. Repeating portions of the song, different camera positions, and a couple of complete run- throughs. I was dead tired after we were done, and happy to take a break. I'd never realized what a wizard Bobby's Dad was with editing software before. He took the raw footage, laid down the better of the complete run audio tracks, and then pieced together the video footage that fit each portion the best, added in a couple of post processing effects, and then it was done. Thirty minutes after he'd selected all of the shots he wanted he declared it done. Three hours of work for a three minute video.

He uploaded it under our new account name: DesdemonaUpInFlames. We logged into the chat room. I created a new account there, with the same name we'd used on YouTube.

SkepticInDenver: i cant find ne1 here who went to the show. fliers @ Hole in the Wall though
FirstFan: I know someone who drove all night to be there.
SkepticInDenver: its a hoax, d00d
I<3Desdemona: I have her autograph.
FirstFan: We KNOW!!!
SkepticInDenver: ur dad got you it.
DesdemonaUpInFlames: You boys love to bicker, huh?
SkepticInDenver: FrEsH mEaT!
FirstFan: Heya, welcome to the insanity.
I<3Desdemona whispers: want to private?
DesdemonaUpInFlames: Thought you'd want to know this.
DesdemonaUpInFlames: cu all in Las Vegas ;)

The link lead to the video. There were 43 people in the chat room before I posted the link. One remained after about thirty seconds. I logged out before any of them could log back in.

Tomorrow was Wednesday, so only two more days 'til the concert. Gretchen has another visit with her shrink on Thursday, and I just home that the rumor mill was enough to make a distance between myself and Desdemona, because ready or not, here I am.

Edited by the ever patient Julia Phillips.