Author retains all rights to this original work of fiction.

Tuesday, March 27th 6:11 PM
"Hey Brea... How's it going?"

As much as I wanted to really speak my mind, needed too for my own sanity and to keep from spiraling into a dark place, I decided it was probably best to go with a generic answer since I didn't know Blake all that well, "It's going pretty good." I hoped I sounded like I believed my own answer.

Blake raised an eyebrow, "You sure? You don't sound very convincing."

Am I really that much of an open book? Can people see that easily through me? I felt a bolt of panic twang my gut, "Yeah... OK, well... It's been a pretty stressful day and everything feels a little rushed... I'm just trying to deal with my nerves though, so I'm good - I guess..." That was a more honest assessment of my state of mind right now without laying too much of a dark cloud over this quick meet in the hotel lobby.

"You're going to do fine tomorrow night. I've heard you sing and I'm told the odds makers have you down as a favorite."

What?! Odds makers? Were people really going to be betting on this competition? "Are you serious," I asked with more concern than I expected to share.

He smiled, "No, just trying to lighten the mood..."

Thank God! If people were betting on this competition that would really suck and I don't want to see where I am at with the odds makers! "Ah... OK, well good to hear that we're not being bet on like horses or some sporting event..."

"You have a chance to look around the hotel?"

"No, pretty much stuck on the hamster wheel that is getting ready for the competition...," I replied sounding a little more exasperated than I meant too sound. What is my problem?! Jesus you Debbie Downer! Get a grip!

"You want the dime tour? I mean if you're not busy and are curious about the operation..."

"I should really... I need to practice and get ready for the contestants dinner tonight..." A flash of disappointment on Blake's face caught me off guard.

"Yeah... No, I totally understand. Well, if you change your mind just have someone page me and I'll show you around..."

I could hear just the slightest hint of disappointment in his voice. It matched that look he had for a fraction of a second, before being replaced with a smile. Augh! I had the time... Crap! Screw it, "On second thought... Sure, I'd like the nickel tour..."

"Oh no, I'm offering you an exclusive 'dime' tour...," he quipped with a grin, "The 'nickel' tour is for the general public and seeing as how you saved the show - I'd be happy to show you the inner workings of this place, the 'dime' tour."

"I doubt I saved the show Blake, seriously...," I complained.

"Well, you joining saved me a bunch of headaches, so in my book you saved the show. We won't tell anyone that though..."

Sure, let's not tell people how you stalked me... Augh! Get over yourself, Brea! Smile and be appreciative to have helped him out and that he's not some upper management jerk and is even talking to you right now. FUCK! Why can't anything around me right now just be normal?!

Tuesday, March 27th 6:35 PM
The 'dime' tour started with a walk around the complex maze of conference and banquet rooms - which I'd already gotten to experience earlier. We got to peek into the room our contestants dinner was being held in later. It looked very nice and had tables setup for at least fifty people. There looked to be an open bar area along the back wall - I wouldn't be doing any drinking, at least not before performing tomorrow. I wondered - was there really going to be that many people in here tonight? I felt a little panicked - so much for an intimate contestants only dinner. After the peek, we walked through the massive kitchen area used for serving those banquet and conference rooms.

Blake explained that the three restaurants on-site had their own kitchens and just in cooking staffs there were roughly ninety cooks between them. It was certainly impressive and there were lots of kitchen and wait staff behind the scenes the general public had no idea existed. An interesting trend I noticed when we started the tour - nearly everyone we saw who spoke to Blake addressed him as 'Mr. Schultz'. I jokingly asked if I should follow suit with the 'Mr. Schultz' bandwagon. He told me if I did that the tour was over. I couldn't help but laugh and appreciated how relaxed he seemed, even though he was someone of importance around here. That didn't help alleviate my panicky sense of doom about the dinner gathering, but it did feel good to at least laugh a little - even if it was strained...

Next up on the tour were the two nightclubs, which were his domain. Even at this early hour and it being a Tuesday night, the clubs were roughly half-full. Blake leaned into me and over the thumping bass of a DJ Khaled song said, "By seven this place will be packed. By eight there will be a line of fifty or more people waiting to get in... In less than a year we've become one of the strips premier clubs. The capacity is two-hundred and twenty-three - we try not to stuff it to the brim, but we've been over that capacity a lot more than I care to admit..."

It was impressive, but loud as hell in here. Blake put a hand at my waist and guided me through the crowd toward the back of the club. Once through a door near the back of the club, the sound - while not totally gone, was nearly gone. "Wow...," I said in the quiet of the back of the house, "You can barely hear the music back here..."

"Yeah, the insulation for sound proofing the clubs cost over one-hundred grand and the sound system was five times that in each of the clubs..."

He was speaking with just a hint of pride in his voice and why not - the place was impressive and I told him so, "Very impressive..."

"Thanks, I feel blessed to be a part of the Grand Cayman's family," he pointed toward a door, "Let's take a look in here..." He opened the door and inside was row after row of liquor bottles hanging on the walls - attached to pumps and hoses. A couple of rack systems filled up the space between the walls and had soda syrup boxes taking up every inch. It was noisy and that meant people were drinking out in the club. The room itself was easily the size of your standard three-car garage. "We'll switch out bottles hourly on a weekend. I have to staff someone in this room on Friday and Saturday nights to keep up with replacing empty bottles if you can believe that... Both clubs have their own rooms like this, over there is the storage area for boxes of alcohol, champagne, beer, soda, and the like... The cooler for kegs is back over there."

I looked toward where he was pointing, "Whoa... That's an insane amount of booze being served. There must be a lot of drunks in this town..."

"Yup... And we have no less than four bartenders, fifteen cocktail waitresses, and ten bouncers working seven nights a week in each of the clubs. It does get a little crazy... When we have our weekend pool parties I have to double shift those wanting the hours or hire temps. A moderately proficient cocktail waitress can make a grand in tips on a good night - more at the pool with the right crowd. Did I mention we get liquor deliveries daily?"

"Yikes! I'm in the wrong line of business. How late are the clubs open?"

"We open at 5:00 PM and close it down at 4:00 AM... Pool parties generally start at 9:00 AM, just because getting people in tends to be such a pain. We shut those down by 10:00 PM usually... Noise ordinances prohibit us from staying open later. By 10:00 PM we're done with the idiots, so it's nice we shut that down early."

"Jesh... And you have a wait starting at 8:00 PM to get in the clubs?"

"I know, right? Crazy busy and one crazy business, for sure..."

I was certainly naive about just how much money ran through a major Las Vegas casino - just the club portion of the casino must make a mint daily! While I was in the service industry - finance officer for a car dealership - this service industry looked to be a fast pace and high stress endeavor. No, my quality of life, in my simple career, with my simple salary, was good enough for me. Vegas was just too intense...

"What are you thinking?"

"Ah, I was just thinking that this place is a 24x7 mad house. It would be too much stress for me... I don't know how you can even get a minute away from this place..."

"Yeah, it's a little stressful - but I've got some great people working with me, so it's not as bad as it might seem... I was in San Diego looking for you for a week and the place didn't burn down..."

"Umhuh... And how many times a day did you get called while you were out there," I asked with a knowing grin.

"OK, so it wasn't exactly the vacation I had planned, so yes - I did work a bit from afar. I also found you, so my time away was a success. My mom didn't seem to mind..."

"She was cute on the phone," and as soon as I said that I wondered if I should have said anything. I mean, we didn't really have a long conversation or anything, but she seemed so nice on the phone. A caring mother for sure...

"Yeah, about that... What did you two talk about? She's said a couple of times that she really liked you..."

Huh? We didn't talk about anything... "We didn't really have a conversation or anything, I was just trying to get a hold of you. She just seemed so nice and given my first impressions of you, well it was refreshing...," I said with a smile that said I was razzing him.

"Can't believe you thought I was stalking you...," he poked back in fun, smiling.

"You do realize that being Trans rubs a lot of people the wrong way. And if they aren't rubbed wrong they tend to be perverts with some kind of bullshit fetish...," I was getting hot and tried to dial it back, "I am very guarded with my, with being myself, who I am. I hate that I have to be on the defensive all the time. I've missed out on a lot of things most women wouldn't think twice about doing..." I needed to stop, I was preaching and Blake wasn't a problem like so many in society were, I felt bad and looked away.

He reach out and put a hand on my shoulder, "It's OK... I understand, believe me I understand... I'm sure there are some real shit heads out there, I'm sorry you have to deal with that...," he pulled his hand back and looked concern as a tear rolled down my cheek.

What the fuck is wrong with me! Why the water works?! Before I could wipe my cheek Blake stepped toward me and hugged me. That caring gesture was more than I could handle and the tears and slow sobbing began in earnest...

"Easy now...," he cooed, "You're perfect the way you are... I'm sure plenty of people think that Brea, you gotta believe it and own it...," he said softly.

I couldn't speak and just buried my face in his chest while trying to control the uncontrollable sobs. I hadn't cried like this in at least a month. My heart ached and all the pressures from work to performing to coming here for this singing competition just overflowed my ability to cope... I tried to apologize, but only got out a raspy, "I'm sorry...," after about a minute.

"There's nothing you need to apologize for... Here, let's go to my office. I've got some Kleenex in there...," he said while wrapping his arm around my shoulder and guiding me toward his office just down the hall.

In his office he had me sit and handed me a couple tissues. "Thank you..." I dabbed at my eyes and wiped my nose. "I don't know what's gotten into me...," I whispered.

"It's totally understandable Brea... Don't let being outside your comfort zone consume what you're here to accomplish. You have an amazing voice, you're going to be a force to reckon with. I'm excited to see you perfrom."

Sure, I'm away from my support network. Away from my safe little bubble that is work; singing; friends; and my mom - but I can't lose my shit like this when I feel the least bit vulnerable or outside of my 'comfort zone' as Blake simply put it... I looked at Blake standing behind his... Oh Crap! A panicked look spread across my face, "Is that the time?"

He turned to look at the clock behind him, "Yeah, but I set it five-minutes fast so I'm not..."

I interrupted him midsentence, "I need to get ready for the dinner... I had no idea it was that late."

"Oh, OK... If you want to skip dinner I could talk to Karen, tell her you're not feeling up to..."

"No!" That came out with more emphasis than I wanted, "I don't want to be seen as someone who can't hold their own... I'm sorry, I really need to go. I really, really appreciate you giving me the 'dime' tour." I stood and turned toward the office door behind me. Shit! Where did the time go? It was 7:15 PM, 7:20 PM on Blake's clock, and by the time I figured out an outfit, hair, makeup... Fuck!

Blake followed me and at the door said to go left. We exited the backside of the club to a hallway not far from the lobby and elevators. I thanked him again, but it was rushed. My focus was on getting ready for the contestant dinner and I hoped he didn't think I was being a bitch. I'd have to figure out a way to make it up to him... What the hell does that mean? Augh!!! I'm a freak'n basket case right now and truth - I'm hating myself so much...

Tuesday, March 27th 8:05 PM
I was late to the dinner and being late was one of biggest pet peeves. It annoyed me when others were late, but I couldn't control that and all I cared about was whether I was on time or not. Augh! The banquet room looked much as it did when Blake and I popped in earlier, only now there were about thirty people talking in small groups either around tables or by the open bar. There were also PBS cameras and microphone booms - two of them - milling about. Augh times two to the tenth power I thought... I could feel my chest tightening and wondered if I was under dressed yet again and dreading getting filmed. Breathe... This is a safe place... Just ignore the cameras.

It took forever to bring down the puffy criers eyes and mask that with makeup, blush, and eye shadow. My makeup was not exactly professional quality, but it would do, and people wouldn't know I was a mess just about fifty minutes ago. My hair, which usually has a mind of its own, played nice and looked decent. I choose a nice blouse, knee-high black skirt, and a pair of peek-toe black boot heels. After a quick look around - I was dressed well within the range of the other attendees. Mission accomplished!

I could see Michelle and Janet at a table closest to the entry door for the kitchen area - I only knew this because of the 'dime' tour Blake had given me. I smiled about that and looked around, seeing Wyatt heading for the table to join Michelle and Janet. He had a couple glasses of wine and a beer bottle of some type. Cool, my group was hanging together - my stress level dropped a notch. Wyatt saw me and waved me over.

"Hey Breanna..."

"Hi Wyatt... Michelle, Janet - you both look amazing..."

That got me a round of the same compliment from them, and Wyatt. I added that Wyatt looked very handsome, which got me a hug and an offer to get me something to drink. I asked for water. The table was set for eight, so we were either going to gain some guests or...

A sharply dressed man approached the table, put a hand on Michelle's shoulder. She smiled, "Brea, this is Danny. Danny, Breanna..."

Introductions complete both Danny and I sat. Janet began talking about her interview with Leza Howell to Michelle, obviously in the middle of some portion of the story that was sharing prior to my arrival. I half-listened while looking around the room. There were people from the band, the makeup and hair people, and a few others I didn't recognize - maybe they were invited guests of those in attendance. It dawned on me that this dinner was for all those involved with the contest. Pretty cool, I liked that we were all together - even though we were all competing - well, some of us.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I jumped a little, "Excuse me... I'm looking for my wife..."

I turned to see Dana standing behind me. Of course that comment caught the attention of everyone at the table and I could feel the stares. "Yeah, yeah... I'm going to have to have a talk with your brother..."

"You're married Dana," Janet asked.

"No, but someone," he put a hand on my shoulder, "Was trying to get into my room claiming her husband was in there...," he replied with a chuckle.

"Brea, you're married," Wyatt chimed in while setting a tall glass of water down in front of me.

Augh! I explained what happened to those around the table. The story got me a couple good natured laughs and a few comments from the ladies that they should be paying more attention to their surroundings. That lead to a conversation about leaving the property and dealing with the protestors outside of the hotel. Danny had went to see some of the strip and said some in the crowd were spewing some pretty venomous crap - while professing their God would be judging us. Hypocrites...

During that tangent a woman joined the table, acknowledging everyone with a slight wave and then sat next to Janet. Janet made the introduction of Cynthia, her wife, to those who hadn't already been introduced. She seemed shy, which was the opposite of my perception of Janet. Opposites attract I thought - they looked cute together. I had the same thought about Michelle and Danny. That left Wyatt and I as the 'singles' at the table.

Clinking of something against a glass repeatedly hushed those gathered in the room. I could see Karen Cole with a glass of wine in one hand and a butter knife in the other as she stood at her table surveying those in attendance. Her calling the room to attention prompted those milling around to take their seats and the room got very quiet. I recognized a few of the people sitting at her table, but other than Blake and Leza Howell – I was drawing a blank as to their names. Seriously?! How do I even function with virtually no memory facilities? Grrr…

“Good evening… Welcome contestants, Cayman's staff, and PBS representatives. I would like to thank everyone for pulling together today and making it through arguably a very busy day of coordinating all those elements that will make up an amazing show for the Transgender Day of Visibility Singing Competition... I’m very impressed with everyone’s efforts and wanted you to know how much I appreciate your involvement, understanding, patience, and flexibility,” she raised her glass, “Here’s to a great show…” Everyone raised some form of beverage and a few spoke out their thanks in return.

“I don’t have much else to say, other than we would hope you will enjoy dinner and of course beverages. Tomorrow the fun begins in earnest,” she paused for a few people clapping and hooting, “Contestants will need to report to the theater by 5:00 PM and the show will start promptly at 7:00 PM. So, enjoy tonight, eat, drink, and Thank you all for being here…” There was more clapping, then the room reverted to people talking amongst themselves and got loud again.

I looked at Wyatt and before I could ask, he asked, “How did it go for you today?”

“I was just about to ask you that… It went OK. The arrangement for my first song took a little work to get ironed out, but it should be fine,” I replied, “How was it for you?”

“Good, I’ll have a little accompaniment from the band on my first song – I’ll be playing an acoustic guitar. I’m using the original track for my second,” he paused, “If I make it to the finale… Don’t want to get ahead of myself.”

“Seriously, need to make it past the first round of this thing. I’m a little nervous…”

“A little, huh? You hide it well,” he said smiling.

Tuesday, March 27th 9:38 PM
Dinner was delicious, either that or I was starving. Probably a little of both was the case. Wyatt and I ended up talking pretty much non-stop about some of the commonalities between our two paths - HRT, dysphoria, and the like. It was interesting to get his prospective coming at it from the FTM route. He seemed genuinely interested in my story as well from the MTF grind. He said he started his transition five years ago at the age of 32. It meant coming out to his wife - he was divorced now and not very amicably, though he didn't divulge much about that. My story wasn't as complex - when I came out it was just to my mom and there wasn't much drama during that event. All said and done - it was refreshing to hear his story and to have someone truly understand the gravity and weight of some of the tougher parts of my journey.

Janet added a few stories to our discussion, while Cynthia just smiled a lot and nodded knowingly when any of us spoke about issues making our journeys a pain in the ass. Michelle and Danny, well they were pretty engrossed in one another and didn't really participate at all in our round table discussions. They ended up leaving right after finishing their dinners, opting to skip dessert for what we all jokingly said would be a dessert of their own making. Good for them...

I caught Tyler looking my way a few times as he went back and forth to the open bar. I think he mouthed, "I'm sorry..." during one of those trips. I rolled my eyes and nodded my head ever so slightly. I had hoped that story about me at Dana's room wouldn't have gotten out, but it had, and truth be told I was no worse for wear because of it - but I wasn't going to let him know that.

"We're going to go to the casino... You two want to come," Janet asked.

Wyatt deferred to me to answer first, "I'd like to, but I've got to get some better sleep tonight. I didn't get here until late last night and it was an early morning... Tomorrow night?" I hoped I didn't sound lame, but I needed desperately to recharge my batteries.

"Sure, but I think after the show they intend on making us available for our 'fans' in the audience. We'd like to get into the club, but if you don't get there early you can't get in...," Janet replied.

I'd forgotten about the 'Meet the Star's' of the show requirement after each of the shows, but remembered the mention of a pool party. Were they going to be one in the same? No, the pool party was on Thursday, the finale day, and started at noon. Augh... "I might be able to get us into the club, tomorrow night or Thursday night. No guarantees, but I might have an in..." I hoped that would take the focus off of me not wanting to go gamble and just wanting to see the backs of my eyelids.

"Ooo... I'm up for that," Wyatt said, "I'm also good for leaving a few coins in the casino with you lovely ladies..."

There were smiles all around and in unison we all pushed back from the table to go our separate ways - after a few hugs of course. As a group we made our exit, but before reaching the door to the banquet room I noticed Tyler trying to catch up to us...

"Brea...," he called out a few feet behind me.

"I'll see you tomorrow, have fun...," I told Janet, Cynthia, and Wyatt.

"Oh, you too...," Wyatt said quietly with a wolfish grin.

"Nah... I'm going to going to bed," I assured him.

"Mmmugh... Good luck with that," he quipped before following the ladies out into the hallway.

I stood at the door and gave Tyler 'the look', which he had better get and fully understand the weight of the displeasure I was trying to convey. I wasn't going to be letting him off the hook so easily.

"Look, I'm really sorry about... It just came out and Dana was all over me about what happened, details - he wanted details, and I told him not to say anything... Look, I apologize... I blew it, I get it, that was a dick move. Can I make it up to you somehow," he asked.

I looked over toward the table Dana was sitting at still, he was talking to someone I didn't recognize, "You wanna make it up to me? Go back in there and say, 'I'm a dick and I screwed up'."

Tyler stared at me for a moment, "Are you kidding," he asked.

"You asked how you can make it up to me, well, that's how. You know how embarrassing that whole thing was? How scared I was? Then to have Dana come over and play with me about being married... Go tell everyone you were a dick and see how that feels," I looked toward the twenty or so people still in the banquet room, "Oh, and don't bother telling them why - don't need that story spread around anymore..."

Tyler was still trying to gauge my resolve and I wasn't giving him any hints as to the cards I was holding - pure poker face. "OK, I deserve this...," he said and turned to go back into the banquet room.

I let him take a step before grabbing his arm, "I'm kidding... But, seriously you spilling your guts to Dana about our meeting kinda hurt my feelings..."

He looked surprised that I stopped him, "I'm really sorry Brea... It was an accident, stupid... You sure you don't want me to take a dose of my own medicine?"

"No, I'll forgive you eventually...," I said smiling.

"You've got a bit of an evil streak in you... You had me going there for a second."

"Yeah, well next time I won't be so nice..."

"There won't be a next time, I promise... You going to the casino?"

"No, I need to go to bed. I'm wiped..."

Tyler had a questioning look on his face, "Come on... It's early still, one drink - I owe you that. What do you say?"

"As good as that sounds and as much as you DO owe me, I just can't... Rain check?"

"Tomorrow night then, you, me, I'm buying...," he said all smiles, "Can I walk you to your room?"

"I guess...," I said all dramatic. We both chuckled and then made our way towards the lobby.

Tuesday, March 27th 9:53 PM
The walk to my room was full of laughs and an embarrassing story about Dana as a child. Tyler told me to use it, but there was no way I was going to bring it up. A story about a jock strap as a mask - gross and there was no easy way to bring that kind of thing up in a general conversation. Nah, think I'll keep that story to myself, thank you very much.

In the elevator it was obvious why the story about the jock strap had come up - Tyler was a bit tipsy... I hadn't smelled much alcohol on him down at the banquet room, but in the close quarters of the elevator - he'd definitely had a few stiff drinks in him. He was kind of cute inebriated, a little more relaxed, and certainly chatty - the funny kind of mildly drunk chatty. Of course he was kind of cute in general - no denying that. To say I didn't have a few wicked thoughts about seeing just how fit that body was would be a lie.

When we exited the elevator and made our way down the hall I was prepared to jump down his throat if he said anything as we passed by Dana's room. Fortunately, he was talking about their older sister who was a doctor in LA - pretty sure he said she was an orthopedic surgeon. The way he talked about her I'm was certain he was proud of the fact she'd done so well for herself. I learned that Dana was a guidance counselor at a high school in a suburb of Chicago. And finally he mentioned that he worked for an industrial paint company in Chicago. Loved his job, hated the winters, and wasn't a fan of the cities murder rate. Before that portion of the conversation got to heavy - the murder rate - we were at my door.

"Well, this is me...," I fished my rooms key card out of my clutch and unlocked my door pushing it open slightly.

"Yeah...," he said as if he were deep in thought about something.

"You OK," I asked.

"Yeah, yeah... I," he stopped speaking abruptly.

"You want me to deposit you in Dana's room?"

"No, I'm good... I just... I want to kiss you..."

What-the-fuck?! Not like I hadn't had similar thoughts a few times today and on the way up here, but talk about being shocked and not sure of what I just heard. I was frozen, speechless, not really sure how to answer or what I should say. Could I even answer? I watched him take a step towards me and everything began moving as if in slow motion. One of his hands moved to my waist, the other brushing past my cheek gently and gripping the back of my neck with authority, then his lips were on mine... OMG! OMG!