Dusty Rose - 2

 

Chris has to decide on potential gender counseling and surgery as the group starts getting their act together.

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Author's Note: This is one of my earliest works and a fun one to follow. I would like to thank all of you for kind reviews and emails that I have received here regarding my writing. Please, let me know what you think about my story, both good and bad.
I honestly read my reviews and am always willing to learn! ~Clara.
 
This version of Dusty Rose - 2 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
 
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.

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Chapter 1
 

"Will you two, please get a move on!? I want you to have some breakfast before you go!" Terry and Chris' mother was shouting towards the living room from the stove where she was making French toast for the twins. Today was the day! Her babies were leaving and it had all happened so quickly. So unexpectedly.

"I'm right here, mom." Terry said, coming into the kitchen. "I've got everything packed and in the hallway. The girls won't be here for another forty-five minutes or so. There's plenty of time."

It didn't matter. Their mom was way too emotional to think clearly today. "Well, where is he? What is he doing?"

"She, mom. You have to remember that you don't have a son. You have two daughters. Where is SHE? What is SHE doing?"

"Alright! Where is SHE and what is SHE doing!?"

"Ironing."

"WHAT!?"

"She's ironing. After she packed up all of her clothes for Nashville, she needed something to wear today. She looked through my closet and found a box of clothes that I wore in junior and senior years of high school. She took it to her room and, this morning she tells me that she found something she liked, but it was wrinkled, so... she's ironing it."

"Does she even know HOW to iron?"

"I guess so. She asked me where the spray starch was."

"Spray starch?" Mom let out a little, surprised laugh. "I should have put that boy in dresses years ago! I hate ironing."

It was Monday morning. Five days since the girls had signed their recording contracts. It had been a whirlwind five days, too! Setting up new business accounts for the girls. Shopping for everything they'd need - especially for Chrissie who had nothing appropriate to start with. Then the hard working schedule that the girls had set up for themselves; four to six hours of rehearsal every day, at least a few hours of writing for Margo, Terry and Chrissie. Chrissie had down loaded some recording software and read and watched tutorials on line to learn how to work in a studio. The resulting files were very good - not professional quality, but very good. They all felt good about their ability to do well in the studios in Nashville.

Above and beyond all this, Chrissie had been practicing how to do his makeup and hair so that he wouldn't have to rely solely on the other girls. He was surprisingly good at it, now. Today he was insisting on picking out his own outfit - that was a first. For the last ten days, Terry had handed his daily attire to him every morning.

Terry came up behind her mom at the stove and wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging her back. "I know it's hard to face, but our little girl is all grown up, now, and she's leaving the nest."

Mom laughed and turned to hug Terry correctly. "Oooooo. Both my babies are leaving my nest." She hugged her harder. "I am going to miss you both so, so, so much! Call me everyday. Ok!?"

"Of course we will. And you can come down anytime you want. We may be back soon, if things don't go well!"

"Nonsense. You girls are amazing and they know that. You're going to take them by storm!"

They hugged again. Then, they heard a quiet cough from the doorway. They remained in the hug, but turned to see Chris. His hair was brushed and shining with a couple of bobby-pins on each side pulling it back off of his face. His make-up was understated and beautiful. He was wearing a short, simple string of pearls with matching ear rings and his shoes were two-inched-heeled sandals with very thin, white straps surrounding his pink-painted toenails.

The most startling thing though was his choice of dress. It was a little, navy-blue shirt dress with little white polka-dots and tiny cap-sleeves. The feminine lapels dove down to a modestly-sexy bust-line, then three little, white buttons held the garment tightly around his slender abdomen and, just above the hips, it skirted out into a softly draped, pleated skirt that just touched his knees. He was the picture of a pretty girl and, since the dress was actually a hand-me-down from Terry, it was just the tiniest bit too big on him, making him look just slightly younger than usual.

Both Terry and her mom smiled and let out a quiet, maternal, "Oh."

"Do I look ok?" He spun around so that they could see the back of the dress. "I don't look stupid, do I?"

"Oh, baby," Mom said with great pride as she crossed to him and turned him so she could tighten the bow in the back of the dress a little and thereby pull the dress a little tighter around his form. "You look absolutely perfect." Then she turned him around again to face her, hugged his face in her hands and kissed him firmly on his forehead.

Mom indicated to Terry to come join them in a group hug. As she kissed Terry's cheek and then leaned down a little to kiss Chris, she said, "I love you both, so much! Now, you two take care of each other. There is no one in the world more important to a girl than her sister. I am so glad that you each have one to rely on." She released them and ushered them to the table. "And, now - eat your French toast before you have to go."

Terry laughed a little. "Well, this will probably be the last French toast we eat in a while. According to Evan, we're going to be "in training" starting tomorrow. Strict diets and a personal trainer to get us ready for pictures when the album is done."

"Mmm," Chris mumbled through his nibble of food, "Sounds like fun. I can't wait."

The rented van was in the driveway and the instruments and suitcases were inside as 9:00 rolled around. There were hugs and kisses and tears and promises to call and then they were on their way to Tennessee. Fourteen hours later, five very tired members of Dusty Rose walked into the beautiful, four bedroom suite of their hotel, called dibs on which room belonged to which and, as quickly as possible crawled under the covers. Terry and Chris took the master bedroom with the king sized bed, which they shared, and the lights went out. The last thing that Chris heard before drifting off to sleep was Terry whispering, "So, this is life in the fast lane..."
 
Chapter 2
 

There was a knocking on the door on Tuesday morning. All the girls tried to ignore it, hoping that someone else would answer it. Finally, Chris rolled out of bed and headed out towards the door. He was still wearing the little polka-dot dress. It was wrinkled. He was bare foot and his hair was a mess and his makeup wasn't looking very fresh.

"What!?" he said a little more tersely than he intended.

There was a very pretty and obviously very fit woman at the door with a shopping cart full of yoga mats and exercise equipment. "Good morning, sleepy-head. Time to get to work!!!" The voice was way too cheery for this time of the morning. "Which one are you and where are the others?" And she pushed past Chris into the suite.

"I'm Chris. They're asleep. Who are you and what time is it?"

"I'm Denise" She smiled at Chris, but when there was no indication of recognition, she continued, "Your personal trainer. I know they emailed that I would be here this morning. It's 6:15 and you girls are supposed to be ready for me every weekday at 6:15. They have a lot of confidence in you girls and they want you looking your very best for the cameras."

Chris processed this information while Denise walked around him and appraised his body.

"Not much meat on you, is there? Well, we'll do what we can!" Then she walked from bedroom door to bedroom door, swinging them open and turning on lights while shouting, "Good morning, ladies! Let's get our cute little butts in gear!"

Eventually, Chris was joined by the four other equally tired and disheveled members of Dusty Rose in the common room. They all squinted at Denise as she spoke, nonstop, in her energetic manner. "This is not a good way to start, girls! I work for American Records, too, and my job is to make you as fit as possible in the next three or four weeks, so, here's the deal: Every morning, Monday through Friday, for the length or your stay at this hotel, I will walk through this door at 6:15 on the dot and I will find five, beautiful, young women ready to exercise. Is that clear? You will be wearing appropriate exercise clothing; shorts and tee shirts or, preferably yoga pants or leotards. Is that clear? I will give you an outline of a healthy diet to follow and you will do it without argument. Is that clear?"

Everyone nodded and grunted agreement while rubbing their eyes and shaking the sleep out of their heads.

"Now, which one is the face of this crew?"

Confused stares from everyone.

"Who is the lead singer?"

The other four pointed to Chris, who realized that, except for Denise, no one else had said a word since being roused from their beds.

"Hmm." Denise gave him another look-over. "Well, you're pretty enough, I guess, but not exactly built like a brick outhouse, are you?"

Chris was stunned. The other girls jumped in with one syllable shouts of defense, "Hey!" "What?" "Huh?"...

"Sorry... what's your name, sweetness?"

"Chrissie."

"...Chrissie. Sorry, Chrissie, but this is my job. One thing I am glad to see, though, is that you all seem like a team, so we can work together.

"Now, after we finish our workout in this room, I have reserved the hotel pool for a half hour on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, so, starting tomorrow, we will 'cool off' by swimming laps - we'll start with, say, fifty minutes tomorrow and work our way up from there. On pool days, we will finish up by 8:00. I assume you can all swim, right?"

"Yes..." came a unison, unenthusiastic response.

Then, suddenly realizing a problem, Chris shouted, "No! I can't!"

"Can't what? Swim, or just go swimming, because if it's just you're period, I can give you some guidance there..."

"No, umm... I can swim and it's not... well... it's not THAT! But, well... ummm... Oh! I didn't pack a suit! Sorry!"

"Oh," Denise remarked with feigned pity, "that's too bad, little girl." Then her manner changed back to her former drill sergeant persona. "Let's see. I know that you just got paid more to sign a contract than I will make in the next seven months, so, maybe after you girls meet the company big-wigs and get settled into the studio today, you might find a store that sells swim suits SOMEWHERE in this teeny-tiny city! What do you think? It is, after all, the capital of Tennessee - there must be a store someplace in this little town that sells swim suits! Don't you think!?"

Chris tried to think of something to say, but Margo jumped in. "It's ok, Chrissie. I'll help you with it. Don't worry."

But Chris was worried! Where would he hide his 'junk' in a bathing suit for God's sake! And this was the FIRST DAY that he was away from home trying to pull this off! This didn't bode well!
 
Chapter 3
 

Denise let them off that morning. She left the equipment she'd brought for future use in the suite and gave them some paperwork with diet guidelines - pretty restrictive, mostly a vegan diet with some fish or eggs allowed here and there - and left them with a warning that she would not be so nice to them tomorrow and left them to start getting ready for their day.

Each room had a shower, so they all set about preparing for the day. They had picked out the clothes they wanted to wear to impress everyone and they did everything that they could to look like the country stars they admired the most.

By 8:45, the suite smelled of singed hair from curling and straightening irons, hairspray, makeup and subtle, "daytime" colognes. Their stomachs were so full of butterflies that no one could even consider breakfast.

At 9:30, they were greeted by a receptionist in the offices of American Records. They were led to a conference room in which there were seven men and two women including the president of the company, some lower level executives who would be overseeing production, marketing, promotional things, their recording engineer, Mark Johnston, their producer, the legendary Alan Bennett and Evan Stewart, who they had met and who had offered them this opportunity just a few days ago.

They met for more than an hour and the words just spun around the heads of the members of Dusty Rose. They frequently looked to each other to see if anyone understood the corporate talk and legalese of the record company execs. Margo passed a note to Terry and Chris at one point, 'Should we call one of our parents to come down and hear this?' Terry grabbed the note wrote back, 'No! Man-up! Grow a pair!' Margo read it and smiled and wrote on the note again, sliding it back to Terry, 'Maybe we should let Chris take over. He has two pair. One above and one below." Terry read it and almost burst out laughing. She passed the note to Chris, whose face turned blood red. He crumpled the note and threw it into a nearby waste basket.

Finally, after they had all been numbed by the meeting, one of the women, Ellen Jacobs, who had been introduced as their company liaison, "You need anything at all, ladies, ANYTHING!, you tell Ellen and she'll get it for you!" they'd been told, led them to an elevator and down to the recording studio.

"This is it girls! Your home-away-from-home for the next month. This is yours 24/7. You can practice without the staff if you want, or you can have all hands on deck to record you. Whatever you need, different guitars, a piano, a sitar - whatever - we have it and I can get it for you!"

The place was amazing! Wood paneled rooms with huge microphone stands everywhere. Their own instruments had been brought up and set up in their basic rehearsal circle and there were microphones set up in front of each of their amplifiers.

"Holy cow!" Gina said as she looked at the elaborate mic-ing system around her drum kit. "This is so, effenin' cool!!!"

They all moved with wide eyes to their instruments and looked at all the equipment surrounding them. For the first time since they arrived, they started talking. It was a non-stop din of chatter as they looked around at everything.

"Well, it looks like we're ready to start!" came a man's voice through the speaker system. They all got silent and looked around. "In the booth. Look at the big window." They did and from inside, they saw the smiling face of Alan Bennett as he waved out to them. "What we're going to do for the next couple of hours, ladies, is just have you play through a few of your songs so I can get a feel for them and Mark, our engineer, can get an idea of how you play so we know how to proceed. Sound good?"

They all agreed.

"Chrissie," Alan Bennett said through the speakers, "you can sing from the studio while we rehearse, but you'll record from that booth over there when the time comes. Ok?"

Chris nodded that he understood.

"And one last thing, girls," He said and there was a little laughter in his voice, "you all look beautiful today, but recording is a long, hard process and I'd rather you were comfortable, so starting tomorrow, dress like you would for an ordinary rehearsal in your old space. Leave the high heels and perfect hair for the public. Here, you can be yourselves. Alright?" They smiled and nodded. "Alright! Let's hear what you do!"

Then, until 1:00 when they broke for lunch, Dusty Rose played their songs and, with each new song they sang, they could tell that Alan was more and more impressed!
 
Chapter 4
 

They broke for lunch.

Just outside of the studio was a moderately sized cafeteria with a huge variety of choices. The band was allowed to order first. While they were looking at the menu, they chatted with the crew they would be working with.

Chris was standing and talking to Margo and one of the technicians, when Margo elbowed Chris and pointed in the direction of Terry. "Look at that!" Margo whispered to him. Across the room, Terry was standing alone with Mark, the recording engineer. Mark was in his mod-twenties, very tall, six feet two or more, and very handsome. Short, neat, full head of hair. Blue eyes behind steel rimmed glasses. Well dressed in khakis and a polo shirt. Terry's body language was readable even from across the room. She was flirting, no doubt about it and, you could tell by Mark's body language, too, that he was flirting right back.

Just then, Ellen burst into the room and hollered in a not very businesslike manner, "Margo, Terry and Christine! I need to see you all in the booth - Right Now!!!"

As if a teacher had just scolded them, the two girls and Chris walked shamefacedly out of the cafeteria, across the hall and into the recording booth where they found Evan sitting in Mark's chair looking pretty upset.

Ellen slammed the door behind her and looked into the studio to insure they were alone. When she turned on the group there was fire in her eyes. She slammed a crumpled not onto the console and, with almost no control left in her voice, she growled, "What the fuck is this all about!?"

It was the note that Terry and Margo had passed back and forth during the meeting.

No one said a word.

"What are you, a faggot? Take off that dress and let me see your body!"

Chris was stunned and couldn't make a move or a sound.

"Did you hear me!" She yelled! "I will not lose my job because some little fairy wants to play games and 'pretend' to be a girl! You got that, Sally!" She had moved very close to Chris's face and her anger was pouring out of her. "So, you prove to me that you are a bitch, or you get our pansy ass out of my recording studio! You have three seconds! One!"

No one moved.

"Two!"

Evan slammed his hand on the console, "Ellen come on..."

"Three!"

"That's enough!" The voice came from the doorway. Alan Bennett had entered unnoticed at some point and had obviously heard a lot. "I've heard plenty of this conversation, Ellen, and you are way out of line here!"

"Look at this note!" She handed him the note. He read it and calmly folded it and put it in his pocket.

"And...?"

"And!?!?!? And that's a boy! We can't promote a band with a boy pretending to be a girl! This can't be kept quiet! We'll be ruined!"

Alan looked at Evan. A question passed between them. Chris saw it. Alan was definitely asking Evan if Ellen knew for sure. Evan shook his head in response.

Alan Bennett took a deep breath and let it out again. "Alright. Girls, go get some lunch and relax. In about an hour, we're going to try to lay down some scratch tracks on a couple of songs. Evan, you take them. Ellen, you and I need to have a nice long, calm conversation right here."

"No we do not!" She started to protest, but Alan put up his right hand and waved her off.

"A nice long conversation with me. Perhaps you didn't know this, but I own fifty-three percent of this company, so I think you can spare me a few minutes, don't you?"

Ellen looked around, then nodded in resignation. "Yes, I think I can."

"Come on girls," Evan muttered quietly and led them out into the hallway.

Once in the hall, Evan turned to Margo and in an angry whisper, hissed, "What were you thinking!? The very first day and you find a way to blow this whole thing!? The one thing that you agreed to never mention, you write down and leave around for people to see!? Are you nuts!?"

Terry interceded. "Evan, Chris threw the note in the waste basket. I'm sorry. I should have taken it with me and destroyed it, but, come on, who would expect anyone to go through the waste baskets after a ...."

"I would! And so should you! That's how corporate America works; finding out other people's secrets."

The girls nodded in sorrow and agreement. At that moment, they noticed that Chris was no longer with them. They turned at looked down the hallway where Chris was seated on a small bench; his knees together, with his elbows on them and his head buried in his hands.

"Chrissie," Terry and Margo both called softly as they hurried down the hall.

"Are you, ok, baby?" Terry asked as she sat beside him and Margo knelt in front of him.

Chris shook his head and looked at them. His eyes were rimmed in red, but he had not cried. "No. I'm not ok. I don't think this is going to work. Do you?" He looked from Margo to Terry, but neither answered. "It's day one and already I have to wear a bathing suit tomorrow - which we all know, I can't do - and at least two more people know I am a guy! At this rate, it will be in tomorrow's New York Times! 'New Jersey Boy Is a Freak In a Dress' - more on page six!"

"What do you mean, two people. It was only Ellen?" Margo asked.

"And Mr Bennett," Chris reminded her. "He heard everything and it was obvious that he knew before."

"Of course he knew." Evan chimed in. "He is the president of this company. I had no choice but to tell him, but he promised me and he made me promise him that this would never be discussed! Let's see how this plays out before we panic, alright?"

Margo and Terry nodded, but Chris put his head back in his hands and this time the sobs came. His shoulders shook as he tried to stop it, but he felt so powerless and useless. He knew that he'd let everyone down and he couldn't bear the thought of 'going home to mommy' and having to admit how he'd failed.

Terry hugged him while Margo kissed the crown of his head, but he couldn't be comforted until a man's voice cut through his misery.

"Chrissie," The voice said, but at first it seemed far away and Chris didn't even acknowledge it. "Chrissie." This time it was louder and caught his attention. He raised his tear-soaked and mascara smeared face and Alan Bennett was squatting down next to him. Alan had his hands on Chris' shoulders and was looking him right in the eye. "Chrissie," he was saying. His voice was calm and paternal. "Chrissie, Ellen would like to speak to you for a moment."

Chris looked up higher and spotted Ellen standing behind Alan. She looked very upset and returned Chris' stare with a brief, weak smile. "Look, Chrissie, I am really sorry. I guess... well, I mean, how could anyone have anticipated this? And, well, I know this must happen all the time - ever since you were little - but I really do apologize from the bottom of my heart. Mr Bennett has said that I can stay on as your liaison, if that's ok with you, and I promise that I will do everything in my power to keep your secret! Your's too, Terry. I will be on your side 24/7/365. Ok?"

Terry and Chris and Margo all exchanged shocked and confused glances. Then, Chris looked at Alan who had never looked away from Chris' eyes. He still held his stare while he said, "Thank you, Ellen. You can go, now. I need to talk to the girls."

Ellen nodded, again the weak smile, and left.

"My secret?" Terry asked.

Alan let out a long, frustrated sigh. "I had to think on my feet! Evan and I had planned to take you girls for a bite to eat tonight to discuss a cover story in case one was needed in the future. Obviously, things got ahead of us! So, I came up with a story that not only would shut Ellen up, but get her on your side."

He stood, now, and helped Chris to his feet. "I told her that you were born an hermaphrodite and that you had been raised as a boy until your 'late puberty' hit, about a year ago, and you started to blossom. Now, you live as a woman full time and you are anticipating corrective surgery when the time is appropriate. I also made it clear to Ellen that she needs to protect you from the media and the world in general. This is top secret information and it is her job to keep it that way. She is to care for you as if you are her little sister. I also gave her a huge raise. I don't think that Ellen will be a problem ever again."

Chris took all of this in and, eventually, he nodded and wiped his face. A little relief passed across his face as well.

"But," He said, "This is just day one and I am in so deep. She found out..."

"Because of a note that should never have been written."

Margo grimaced. "Sorry."

"Don't let it EVER happen again," Alan smiled at her.

"... and tomorrow, I am supposed to go swimming as part of my exercise regime. How do I handle that!?"

"Look," Alan laughed, "you created this persona. I have dealt with many artists who have weird lifestyles - at least yours has the potential to appear normal. Just don't panic and find a solution. Keep everything as simple as possible and no one will question you. Besides, Denise isn't all that bright."

Alan turned Chris so that he faced him again. His hands were on both of Chris' upper arms as he spoke. "I haven't even heard you guys hit your stride, yet, and I am already impressed by you. I want this to work out, so make it work! I know you can do it!" Then he pulled Chris in for a big, supportive hug. When he released the hug, he gave Chris a soft kiss on the cheek, then patted that cheek with his large hand. "Now, be a good girl and make me a richer man." Then he tweaked Chris's nose and walked down the hall.

Chris was stunned - by everything.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Terry. "Hey! Wait! What's my secret!?"

Alan didn't even turn. He spoke while he walked away. "You're twins. You used to suffer from the same condition, but your surgery was more obvious, so you had it performed on you when you were an infant." Then he disappeared into the cafeteria.

The four of them, Margo, Terry, Chris and Evan, stood in shocked silence until Margo said, "Wow. You think you know a girl..."

"No kidding, huh?" Terry said. "I can't wait to read my Wikipedia page."
 
Chapter 5
 

"So," Alan Bennett was in the studio talking to the girls, "for the purposes of a scratch track, this is how we will work. We'll pick a song and decide on the perfect tempo. Then record a click track - that's just a metronome click for the length of the song. Then one of you plays a really simplified accompaniment - just a simple strum on a guitar - and Chris sings along. When that is done, we can begin to build our recording. So, who is going to play the guitar tracks?"

Terry said, "I guess that Chris and I should. I play all the simple stuff. Gracie plays the hard parts."

"Alrighty, then! Terry and Chris, you have a couple more hours of work ahead of you. The rest of you can do whatever you'd like with the rest of your day."

"Cool!" Gina chirped! "Let's go shopping! I need a new swimsuit and I know that Chrissie does, too."

"So do I!!" Terry reminded them. "And be nice to Chrissie! Pick out sometime conservative, but pretty. My little sister is not a slut." The others smiled and gathered their purses together. "...But I am!! Find something cute, but sexy as hell!!! Size two!!! I want it to really show off my butt!!!" She stood and turned to show her rear end to the others who were already laughing and waving her off. "This is good stuff back here and I want it to be well framed!!! No granny-panty bottoms. Hot stuff! Victoria's Secret stuff!!!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Margo laughed and waved as the door shut.

Terry and Chris worked on scratch tracks for the next four hours until Alan sent them home. "Eat, sleep and come back at 10:00 tomorrow morning. I really think we're doing something special with your stuff." He kissed them both on the cheeks; the kiss of an affectionate uncle. "Good night, girls."

When they got back to the hotel, there was a sewing machine set up in the suite.

"What's all this?" Terry asked as she entered.

"Did you know that our quiet, little Gracie could sew?" Gina asked a bit mockingly.

"I did not know that!" Terry replied with the same playfulness.

"Well," Gina continued in the same tone, "It turns out that she can. So, we picked up this sewing machine - top of the line, I might add, nothing but the best for Dusty Rose's favorite lead-guitar-slash-banjo-slash-mandolin player - and she has made some very clever alterations to little Chrissie's first one-piece-all grown-up-big-girl bathing suit."

Grace appeared from Terry and Chris' bedroom. She was carrying a bathing suit with a tropical flower pattern on it. "Oh, you're back! Hi!"

"And here it is! The latest in country music swimwear and ready for you to try on." Gina jumped across the common room to where Grace was standing and she displayed the swimsuit as if she were a model on The Price is Right. "Pretty and revealing in all the right places, but guaranteed to keep all of your secrets secret!"

Grace took the suit back from Gina and walked over to let Chris and Terry see what she'd done. "I had a friend in high school who was really petite - no real boobs or butt, either - so she shopped at this store for petite woman. Well, there was one of those stores here in Nashville, too, so we went there and I bought this suite for you, Chris. It has a little bit subtle padding built into the bust, hips and butt to make you a little curvier."

She held the suit so that Chris and Terry could inspect the padding. She was right, it was only a very little padding, but probably would make a difference.

"Thanks, Grace, but my butt isn't my biggest concern..."

"I know, I know. So, Margo told us about those gaffs that you wear to keep everything tucked in, so to speak, so I bought this sewing machine and some 'invisible' nylon thread and I sewed a gaff into the suit. Look!" Grace turned the suit inside out at the crotch and her handiwork was evident. "Tah dah! I took one of yours out of your suitcase and copied it. I was just putting it back when you came in. Go try it on!"

She practically pushed Chris into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

When he emerged from the room, he looked great. Curves in all the right places and no bulges where there shouldn't be.

"Nice work, Gracie!" Gina offered from the couch as she turned on the suite's TV and searched for a channel.

Terry, Grace and Chris all set about cleaning up the sewing machine and its work, when it finally occurred to Terry to ask, "Hey, where's Margo?"

"Right here!" She hollered as she burst through the door carrying a couple of shopping bags. "We bought our bathing suits and the sewing machine and came back here without buying any cover-ups. I figured we'd need them to get from here to the pool in the morning, so I went back out. Wow! Chrissie, you look - amazing!"

Chris blushed just a bit. "Thanks."

"Here, put your arms up and I will help you put on your cover-up."

He did as instructed and Margo lowered what looked like a summer dress over his head. The top was made out of a band of bubbly, elastic material that clung softly to his bust. Then, it hung loosely to his upper thigh in a very pretty way, with eyelets forming floral patterns cut into it.

"There," She turned him towards the mirror, "aren't you the cutest thing!?" She kissed his neck from behind and rubbed his fanny through the dress. Then, she turned to the others and passed out their cover-ups.

Terry's was just a large scarf-type thing that wrapped around her breasts and hung down. Gracie's was like a simple, red sundress and both Margo and Gina's looked like elongated polo shirts that hung to their knees. They all held them up and looked at them, enthused over them and thanked Margo.

"Hey!" Chris got their attention. "Why is mine so frilly? I look like a child in this and you all look so, well, sophisticated and grownup in yours."

Margo turned him back to the mirror. "Look how pretty you look like that." She said. Then, without a thought, she pulled off her dress and pulled her cover-up on. Chris felt very excited to see Margo so casually disrobe. She turned back to the mirror and looked at Chris' reflection. "Look at me. I am a girl wearing a men's style top; it's just a little longer than usual. I look ok, right?"

"I think you look beautiful." Chris said, truthfully.

"Nice; yes, but I look a little boyish, which can be sexy in its own way. You look beautiful, though. Soft, young, sexy and vulnerable. That's beautiful on you and that's the image you need to always project. The 'good girl'. The 'farmer's daughter'. I just play bass behind you. Being beautiful is now your job and you are great at it, sweetheart." Then she hugged him from behind and kissed him, again, on his neck. "Besides, you grew up in khakis and jeans while our moms were forcing us into frilly, uncomfortable dresses against our wills! I've heard Terry say at least twenty times, 'it's like having my own life-sized American Girl doll' and she's right! We all enjoy making you pretty.

Then she turned Chris towards her and gave him a soft, passionate kiss on the lips while the other girls shouted, "Oh, gross," and other immature and funny remarks.

"You like being pretty for me, don't you, baby?" she whispered to him.

Chris shook his head and smiled up at her. "No. I love looking pretty for you, Margo. Make me as pretty as you like." They kissed once more and then hugged as they joined the others for an evening in front of the TV.
 
Chapter 6
 

Denise arrived at the suite at 6:30 the next morning, Chris and the others were all wearing yoga pants and exercise tops. She ran them through a rigorous, hour long yoga session. The four girls had done yoga many times and it was tough for them. Chris ached everywhere when they finished.

"I thought this was supposed to be a relaxing exercise?" Chris grumbled as they finished.

"Once you're used to it, it will be. We have to work on a few problem areas as we go along. Margo, you're in pretty good shape?"

"Good?" Margo mocked as she stood and posed like a body builder. "I am an Amazon Queen!"

"Gina, you need to strengthen your pecks just a little. You have a nice rack there, but they can get a little perkier with some work."

"Thanks... I guess" Gina looked at her boobs and played with them for a moment.

"Grace, you have a little posture issue. You're tall and lean, but sometimes you stand like a question mark. You need to focus a bit on your shoulder muscles."

"Yes, 'em. Will do!" Gracie replied.

"And you two," She pointed at both Chris and Terry, "have to work on your upper legs a little. Terry, you have a little cottage cheese developing right here." Denise ran her hand along the back of Terry's leg just where it met her rump.

"What?"

"Don't panic! That's why I am here! But you, little girl," She turned and placed her hand on Chris' rump this time, "have the hips and butt of a fifteen year old boy. We need to firm that thing up and get it sticking out a bit. Let the world know it's there! Ok!?"

Chris smiled through the embarrassment he felt. "Ok!"

"Good! Now we're all on the same page! Quick, ladies! Bathing suits on and let's go swim some laps. Five minutes to change."

Four minutes later, clad in their new bathing suits and cover-ups they all headed for the pool. Just as the elevator doors opened in the basement of the hotel, Denise's cell phone rang.

"Hello, this is Denise." "Right now? But, we're not done and she's not really dressed for..." "Yes, sir. I'll send her out. Right now."

She disconnected the call and grabbed Chris by the arm and pushed him back into the elevator. "You four start swimming. 25 laps a piece. No cheating! Chris, that was Alan Bennett's secretary. He wants you in the studio - NOW!"

The elevator doors closed with Denise and Chris inside. She pushed the lobby button and it started to rise.

"Now!? I'm not dressed!! I haven't done my make up!! I'm still in a bathing suit!!"

"It doesn't matter if you're in your birthday suit! When Alan Bennett calls, you do what he says, little girl! He sent a car for you. It should be out in front." The doors opened. "Come on." She led him towards the front of the lobby.

Chris froze midway across. "Denise." They stopped. "why me - alone? Did I do something wrong? Can't I take Terry with me?"

Denise could see panic in Chris' face. She suddenly wasn't a drill sergeant anymore. "Oh, don't worry, baby girl. I'm sure it's studio stuff. If you were in trouble, he'd have you meet him in his office." It suddenly dawned on Denise that Chris looked very young. "How old are you, sweetie?"

Chris, who had been staring in fear towards the door, looked briefly at Denise, "seventeen." His attention went back to the door and he noticed a man in a black suit had entered. He was obviously a chauffeur and he was obviously here for Chris.

"Wow." Denise's surprise was real. "You really are a baby, aren't you? Is this your first time away from home?"

Chris nodded. "Monday was the first night I ever slept anywhere but at home or in a hospital. Denise... Denise, do I look ok like this?"

"Honey, if there's one thing I know about Alan Bennett, it's that he isn't calling you in because he wants to get you alone. Alan Bennett is one of the most happily married men I have ever met. He is all business at the studio, so he couldn't care less if you showed up in a ball gown or your skivvies - just that you come when he calls. So, go on!" She gave him a quick, playful slap on the bottom. "Git!"
 
Chapter 7
 

"Good morning, beautiful!" Alan said as Chris entered the studio. "Are we feeling good, today?" He gave Chris a warm hug and kissed him on the cheek.

Chris smiled. "I'm ok, I guess. Is there anything wrong?"

The only other person in the studio was Mark, the technician. He was setting up a guitar mic and a vocal mic in front of a chair.

"Wrong? No, why?" Alan grabbed his iPad off of a music stand and started scrolling through his notes.

"Well... I don't know... why did you call just me down here?"

"Because I need just you. Chrissie, you work for me now. I am your boss. This is a business and I call who I need when I need them. Is that a problem?"

Chris shook his head franticly. "No, no, of course not. It's just that, you know, after yesterday... well, I was scared."

Alan laughed, "Oh. I get it! No, look," He directed Chis' attention to his iPad, "I made some notes on yesterday's scratch tracks and I only need you, me and Mark here to try a few things. So, put your big-girl panties on and let's start." Now, he seemed to look at Chris' clothes for the first time. "Are you wearing a bathing suit?"

Chris lifted the hem of his cover up so Alan could see. "Yes. I was about to jump in the pool when you called."

"Why didn't you change?"

"Because Denise said..."

Alan laughed. "Denise!? I told you she's not that bright! Well. I can't let you leave now, but you're ok in that, aren't you?"

"Sure, I guess..."

"Good. I sent word to the others to not come until 1:30. You and I are going to work on one song until then. You know that one," he checked his notes on the iPad, "Those Eyes that we laid the scratch for last, yesterday?"

"Yes."

"Well, I listened to it a lot and I think we have our first winner there. There are two things I want you to try, so sit and let's get started."

Alan led Chris to the chair in front of the mics. Chris sat and crossed his legs at the knee. Mark handed him his guitar. Alan sat in another chair nearby.

"First thing, I want to try it a little higher in your range. Here," Alan handed Chris a capo, a small clamp that shortens the neck length of the guitar and raises the key of the song the person is playing. "Put this on the third fret."

Chris did as he was instructed.

"Now play and sing the song."

Chris strummed and when he started singing, it felt very high. "Those eyes can see me when I'm sleeping. Those eyes, they make me want to cry." He stopped.

"What's the matter?"

"It's really high and if I push up there, won't I sound like a guy straining for high notes?" Chris whispered so Mark couldn't hear.

"Chris, country girls are all belting out songs now. Open up and let it out. This time, though, instead of Those Eyes, I want to hear you sing, His Eyes. That's a lot sexier. Try it."

"Ok." Chris took a deep breath and tried it Alan's way. It was awesome. His voice seemed to flow out like it never had before and the new words made it so personal. It was a little weird at first, singing about a man, but when he considered it, songwriters wrote for the opposite sex all the time. This was no different. As the song went on, Chris closed his eyes and really let the song flow through him.

When he finished, Alan leapt up and shouted, "Yes, yes, yes!!! That's what I want!" He practically lifted Chris out of his seat to hug him. "Do it like that one more time, Chrissie! I want one more take with that passion from beginning to end." Alan released his hug so Chris could sit back down. Then he gave Chris another kiss on the cheek as he headed back to the recording booth. "One more time, my country music princess! Just like that!!!"
 
Chapter 8
 

It was almost time for the others to arrive. Chris and Alan had been working for several hours on different songs. Always a little higher and always changing pronouns to sound like Chris was singing to a man.

Alan had sent Mark off to get some lunch, so it was just the two of them working side by side. Chris had never really done such personal, almost intimate, work with anyone before. He was very comfortable around Alan and Alan acted like, well almost like he was Chris' uncle - or even his father.

"I think we need the girls here to continue," Alan said as the playback stopped. "So. Let's chat, ok?"

"Sure." Chris sat back. He knew the conversation wasn't going to be about the music. He avoided making eye contact with Alan.

"You have a big future here, sweetheart. I have seen a lot of young people with talent come through these doors, but not many like you and your sister and your friends."

Chris smiled and nodded, waiting for the rest of the story.

"But, as a business man, I do have to talk to about... about your situation. This is a big deal and I want you to get some counseling to be sure that you make the right choices."

"Counseling?" Chris was a little taken aback.

"Yes. Gender counseling. You're preparing to live as a girl, Chris - no, as a woman. Have you thought about how this is going to affect every aspect of your life?"

"Yes, sir, I have and I am sure that I am doing what's right for me and Terry."

"Are you? There are things that will have to be done eventually, you know. It's possible that your chin won't get stronger or your bone structure won't get wider, but you can't wear glue on boobs for the rest of your life."

"Yes, sir. I know."

"Please, stop with the 'sir' stuff, Chrissie."

"Ok, Mr Bennett."

"Never mind. Stick with 'sir', if you can't call me Alan. Exactly how old are you sweetheart?"

"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen in September."

"That's a problem."

"Why?"

"Because the press will be all over you girls by September." He paused and thought for a moment. "Chrissie, I am going to make a suggestion - Now, I know that you are still a very young man and I assume that there are aspects of manhood you'd like to keep; meaning your penis."

Chris' jaw fell open. "Well, yes, sir. I mean, I really like girls..."

"I don't mean to embarrass you, honey, but this is part of the business and I have to know where things are headed."

Chris nodded that he understood, but he wished that he could just melt away rather than continue this conversation.

"Here's my proposal: I want you to get that counseling. We have great people on payroll for that - discreet people. I know that, in a typical situation, with counseling, etc, it would be a year or more before this ever came up, but, if you are willing, we have some great and discreet cosmetic surgeons on our payroll, too."

"Cosmetic surgeons?"

"Yes. Well, since you want your penis to still function, hormones are out of the question and, besides, our clock is ticking. I am thinking that the best course for us, you and the company, that is, to follow is to have artificial breasts implanted in your chest. They would look completely natural and remove the possibility that anyone could discover that you were wearing silicone boobs."

Chris looked down at the breasts he'd been wearing for the last week and a half - wow, had it only been a week and a half!? It felt like forever. So much had changed. The band, the girls, Nashville... It was all just because he looked like a girl - and he REALLY LIKED how he looked. Did he want to make it permanent?

"The procedure can be done, quietly, any day you decide. There is a ten day to two week recovery, a little pain from the skin stretching, but nothing too much, and then you'd have a more or less natural pair. The beauty of this is that, should you girls be one hit wonders of something like that and you want to go back to being Christopher, it is completely reversible - they can be removed."

Chris was still staring at his phony boobs and thinking. Then he quietly asked. "How do you know so much about this stuff, sir?"

Alan laughed. "Chrissie, this is the music 'business.' Image is even more important than talent for a lot of my clients - male and female. You girls are amazing, but I can't have your first releases be side tracked by scandal. Maybe this is too much pressure for someone as young as you..."

"I'll do it," Chris interrupted.

Alan stopped and looked at Chris for a long time before speaking again. "Are you sure?"

Chris nodded. "Yes, sir. It's not even just for the band. I was just never much at being a guy and I seem to be really good at being a girl. I still see myself as a guy as far as my penis... This is hard for me to talk about, sir, but I... well... I want to do it."

"I will need to talk to your mom before we do anything, you know. You are still legally a child."

Chris nodded and thought about how tough that conversation was going to be.

"This is Wednesday, and it's nearly noon. Is she home now? Can we call her or Skype her?"

"She doesn't get home from work till around 5:30, sir, but Terry and I have been Skype-ing her every night at around 7:00."

"Good! We'll do that from my office at 7:00, then. Is that ok?"

Chris finally looked up and smiled at Alan Bennett. He felt relieved that someone had brought this up. He hadn't realized until now, but he'd been envying the girl's equipment. How it must feel to have real boobs. The way that a bra cupped them. How they felt to touch. He knew that this was what he really wanted to do. "Yes, sir. That's great."
 
Chapter 9
 

"...So, there would be no hormones, he'd still be able to father children if he wanted to and it would be reversible if he wanted to go back to living as a boy?"

It had been a long day for Chris. Denise had not told them to bring clothes for Chris, so he was still in his suit and little cover-up. They'd recorded drum and bass and a few guitar tracks for His Eyes, but Alan Bennett was a real task-master in the studio, so there was a lot of pressure. Gina, in particular, was really frustrated with her own playing and had to take a few minutes to pull herself together. Chris had gone into the hallway with her and told her how great she was playing and encouraged her to keep it up. Gina pulled it together, listened to everything that Alan said and played great. At 6:00, Alan had dismissed the rest of the band, but Chris stayed behind for the on-line chat between him, Alan and mom. Mom was a little freaked at first, but things had become calmer and now, she was understanding that this really was what Chris wanted.

"That's right, Mrs Johnson."

"And Chrissie, honey, are you sure that you are ready for this?"

"Yes, mom, I know I am. I talked to Terry about it this afternoon, too. She's here with me mommy, so you know that I am in good hands."

"What did she say about it?"

"She cried a little at first and asked if she was forcing this on me, but, honestly, mom, I am so much happier looking like a girl than a boy. It's like I'm better at it, you know?"

Her image in the computer screen nodded. "All right, then, baby. Email me the forms and I will sign them and fax them back in the morning."

When Chris got back to the hotel, it was nearly 11:00. The girls were all in their nighties, but they had been anxiously waiting to hear what Chris had to say. He told them everything that had happened that day.

"So, I am meeting the doctor tomorrow and, of everything goes well, I'll get real boobies on Friday."

"Friday!?!?!?" They all seemed shocked, but no one seemed more concerned than Margo.

"Chrissie, are you sure about this?" She asked. "I feel like I am somehow responsible for this. Are you sure that this is what you want to do?"

"I am. I know this is right for me."

Terry had her 'mother hen' look on, a look that she had taken to a lot when dealing with Chris for the last two weeks, but Chris could tell that she was ok with it. Gina and Gracie seemed, understandably, surprised, but Margo seemed more agitated than Chris expected.

Finally she took him by the hand and led him to his bedroom. "We'll be right back. We just need to talk." She called over her shoulder.

The door shut and Margo turned and looked at Chris. She bit her lip while she thought and then said, "Listen, Chris, I have to talk to you about this - just you and me."

"Ok."

"You don't have to do this, you know."

"I know, but it's what's best for the band and I think..."

"What if there was no band?"

"What!?"

"Remember when Alan laid into Gina and you went out into the hall to talk to her?"

"Yes..."

"I was really pissed that he made her feel bad and I told him so. And you know what he said? He said, 'You all have to be as good as Chrissie, or Chrissie can do this all by herself.' He said that you had everything going for you. That the 'girl band' idea was a great way to get everything going, but that you were good enough to do this without any of us - even as a guy."

Chris was stunned. Alan Bennett had never said anything like that to him.

"So, why don't we just go home and you can do this all by yourself without the tits and without the dresses, ok!?"

Chris sat on the bed and shook his head, trying to figure everything out.

Margo was more agitated than Chris had ever seen her. "In the past couple of weeks, things have really been going crazy for me and, I have to tell you, I think that am really falling for you. You know what, I can tell you exactly when I started thinking of you differently - I mean not as Terry's little brother, but - I don't know how to say it, but - well, as someone I wanted to get involved with - romantically involved. You know?"

Chris sat on the bed and looked up at her, then down at the floor, "I guess. Yeah."

"It was in your basement when you sang with us the first time. I just kind of fell for you right then and there."

Chris kept looking down, but he nodded.

"Well, once you started wearing dresses and getting all pretty, I just fell deeper and deeper. I don't know exactly what that says about me - I've been with guys and I like guys and I don't think about girls in a sexual way, but the girlier you get the more I want you and the girlie I want you to be."

Chris nodded some more.

"That's weird, isn't it? But Chrissie, I am not thinking about this as a heterosexual thing or a homosexual thing... I just think that I love you, Chrissie."

Chris turned his head up and smiled at Margo. He had tears in his eyes.

"The thing is, though, it's all kind of a fantasy, but, now you're going to make it permanent and I think I need to know where you stand. Where do you see this all going, baby? Are you going to take hormones or get castrated, because, when I fantasize, I am not seeing myself with a girl. That little tube of skin tucked into your bathing suit's crotch is a big deal for me and it SHOULD BE for you, too! Look, if it comes down to losing the opportunity to be in a successful band or you keeping you wiener, there is no contest - keep your wiener, little one."

Chris stood up and hugged Margo. Then he stood on his tiptoes to kiss her. The kiss turned passionate before it ended.

"I love you, too. I really do and when I think about the future, it's always with you. I am getting, this done so that we can be successful - all of us - together and, you know as well as I do, no one gave a care about me as a boy. As a girl - I'm happy. I have friends. I'm successful and I have friends and I feel so nice in my new clothes. I feel pretty and I love that feeling. I also love being a part of the group - you know, all of you guys. I can't go back to being a nothing! I can't go back to being all alone, all the time. I want to do this so that I can continue all those things, but I will always stay a boy, too. I promise."

Margo smiled, then hugged him and rested her chin on his forehead. "So, when you, you know - masturbate, and you fantasize, you're always with a girl, right?"

Chris was quiet for a moment, then very quietly said, "I never masturbated."

Margo moved back just a bit to look into his face. "What? Never?"

"You know, it's mom and Terry and me and I always felt like I'd get caught, so..."

"Wow." She whispered and then kissed him long and soft on his lips. She let go of him and the raised his arms and pulled his little, white coverup off. Then, she lowly lowered the straps of the bathing suit he'd been wearing all day. Slowly, she pulled the suit down around his ankles and he stepped out of it.

As Margo looked over his body, he allowed himself to relax a bit.

"Lay down on the bed, baby girl." Margo smiled and almost laughed. She really loved the idea that Chris was her 'baby girl' but was thrilled that her baby girl had a good sized penis as well.

Chris lay on his back and Margo lay on her side beside him. She supported her head on her left arm while she ran her right hand over his artificial breasts. When she reached his belly, his stomached spasmed with nervous surprise.

"Wow, you have the softest skin of any boy I ever knew." Chris looked up into her eyes, so confident and so sure of herself. When Margo looked into Chris' eyes, she saw fear and excitement, but she was sure that he trusted her, too.

"And no hair, either." She whispered. "I like that. Soft and sexy and girlie, but then..." She ran a finger along the shaft of his penis and smiled at the surprised gasp that Chris let out. "Is this ok? Can I touch it?"

Chris nodded.

Margo wrapped her hand around Chris' shaft and started to slowly stroke it. I hardened and became erect. "And you're big down there, too." She kissed his neck. "Awesome."

Chris was being overwhelmed by the sensations.

Suddenly, she stopped. She reached across him with her right hand and took his left hand in hers. Then she guided it to his penis where she wrapped it around his shaft and then, keeping his hand wrapped around his member, she enveloped his hand in hers and started guiding it in the up/down motion she'd been using one him.

Chris's eyes rolled back in their sockets. Then he closed his lids and his breathing became out in shivers of restrained excitement.

"There you go." She encouraged. "That's nice, isn't it?" She leaned in and kissed his lips, softly, passionately. Chris' hips started to rock in sync with his hand motion. Margo let go of his hand and started to lightly tickle the smooth area where Chris had once had pubic hair. Her kisses moved down to his neck and he let out another, whispered gasp. Margo lifted her head and leaned back just a bit to watch Chris. As he drew even closer to orgasm, she smiled down at him. "That's my girl. Here it comes, baby. Here it comes."

And Chris exploded onto the smooth, soft skin of his abdomen. At first he could barely breath, but then he let out some soft moans. "Shh, baby, shhh," Margo whispered. "Hush, sweetie, the girls are on the other side of the door. Shhh."

As Chris' breathing slowed and became more normal, Margo laid back and reached over to grab the tissue box on the night stand. She pulled out a few tissues and handed them to Chris. "Here, sweetpea, clean up. Why don't you flush those and take a quick shower. I just wanted to be sure that you knew what it felt like. You liked, it, right?"

Chris sat up and pulled a sheet around him, becoming strangely timid and feminine. He pulled his long hair loose of the sheet and then he looked at Margo, thought for a moment, blushed, smiled and nodded. "I did," he giggled. He fell back into Margo's arms for on more moment, kissed her, then jumped off the bed, still wrapped in the sheet, and disappeared into the bathroom.
 
Chapter 10
 

"So, how big are we going with these?" Doctor Casey, a beautiful woman in her thirties, was looking at Chris's chest. Dr. Casey had removed the prosthetic breasts. Chris' own chest was looking a little red and irritated. She had already told him that she would provide him with some silicone enhancers that he could stuff into his bra for the next couple of days. “Just show less cleavage until the surgery,” she had advised.

“I… I don’t know…” Chris said.

“Not too big,” Margo said.

“About like mine, I should think.” Terry said.

The examining room was crowded with all these woman crammed in, but Chris’ mother’s paperwork had insisted that Terry be there and Chris had insisted that Margo be there, too.

“So, a 34B, then? That should look nice on your frame, I should think. I am going to have one of my nurses bring in a couple of padded bras for you to try. They will be sized at 32B, 34B and 34C. Take a look at them, try them with a tee shirt and see how they look. I’ll be back in to see what you think.”

The girls helped Chris try on the bras and offered lots of criticism. Eventually, they decided on the 34B.

“They look a little bigger on you than Terry, though.” Margo offered.

“Really?” Terry was a little surprised at her reaction, but she actually was a little jealous. She stood beside Chris in the mirror and compared herself to him.

Margo looked from one twin to the other. “Wow! Over the last two weeks, you two have gone from looking similar to almost being identical twins, except the height thing.”

Terry looked at their reflection and put her arm around Chris’ shoulders. “We do look more alike than I ever thought we did. I mean, we have pictures from when we were little and mom dressed us alike, but we both looked like boys back then. Little shorts and tee shirts. Never as girls.”

Chris looked at the two of them in the mirror, too. “Never as girls…” He repeated. “Terry, if dad were still alive, what do you think he’d think of this?”

Terry was really caught off guard. Their dad had been dead for nearly six years now. He was killed in a car accident home from visiting Chris in the hospital when he was in seventh grade. They both missed him, of course, but it was always painful to talk about him.

“Chris, daddy loved you and me with all of his heart. He would have wanted you to be happy. And, Chris, he loved music. If he could have heard you sing… I know he’s be proud of you, baby. I know he would.”

Chris smiled into the mirror and leaned his head onto Terry’s shoulder. Until recently, Terry and Chris had been like any other siblings, but now they were closer than ever. ‘How could this not be right?’ Chris thought as he enjoyed Terry’s hug.

A sniffle from Margo made them both turn to look at her. She was wiping a tear from her eye. “What?’ she said with mock indignation, “I’m a little hormonal right, now, ok!? And seeing my best friend and her brother having ‘a moment’ made me cry.”

Terry laughed, “You mean your boyfriend and his sister? You really think we look alike?” She took a few steps towards Margo. “Do you want to kiss me, too?”

“Terry!!!” Chris hollered a little louder than he meant to.

That made Margo laugh, too. “Hardly!”

“Really!?” Terry acted disappointed and pointed to her own lower abdomen. “It’s because I don’t have that little thing down there, right?”

“Terry!!!” Chris hollered even louder.

The girls both laughed as Chris turned fifty shades of red. Then Margo leaned into Terry and said, “I got news for you. It’s not that little.”

Chris nearly melted as the girls laughed harder.

Just then there was a knock on the door. When Dr. Casey reentered the room, she found
Chris, Margo and Terry all looking into the mirror. The girls were definitely suppressing grins. “Yep, 34C looks great!” They said.

“Ok,” said the doctor. “I’ll see you at 7:30 Friday morning, then.”
 
Chapter 11
 

Friday came.

At 6:30, Chris was waiting in the lobby with Terry, Margo, Gina, Grace and Denise.

“Nothing to be scared of, sweetheart,” Denise was saying, “I had mine done a few years ago. Best thing I ever did.”

Despite her words of encouragement, the girls all looked very nervous.

“What’s with these gloomy faces, girls? Give her some encouragement. Come on!”

Grace spoke up, “Denise, I think that we’re all just concerned because this is all happening so fast. The sudden success, the changes in our lives… We just didn’t expect all this so suddenly and, well, you know, Chrissie isn’t just Terry’s little sister – in a way, she’s mine and Margo’s and Gina’s too, so… we’re just worried about her. That’s all.”

Chris finally smiled. “Aww, Gracie…” He gave her a big hug. “Thank you.”

Just then a large town car pulled up in front of the hotel doors. “The car’s here.” Terry said and picked up Chris’ gym bag. “Come on, Chrissie. We have to go.”

Chris let go of Grace, then hugged Gina and Denise. “Ok.” He gave them a nervous smile, took Margo’s hand and he, Margo and Terry walked out to the car together.
 
 
To Be Continued...

Dusty Rose - 3

 

In new surroundings, Chris and his group begin to record their album and perform a few live gigs.

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Author's Note: This is one of my earliest works and a fun one to follow. I would like to thank all of you for kind reviews and emails that I have received here regarding my writing. Please, let me know what you think about my story, both good and bad.
I honestly read my reviews and am always willing to learn! ~Clara.
 
This version of Dusty Rose - 3 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
 
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.

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Chapter 1
 

"Honey, I am not going to lecture you, but if the doctor said to wait a week, then why not wait a week?" Chris's mom was stressed. Her twins were hundreds of miles away from home and Chris had just had surgery. Minor surgery, as these things go, yes, but surgery, none the less. When he'd told her that he had no real pain, just some pulling on the skin on his chest as it stretched and healed, she still wasn't happy.

"Honestly, mom, I'm fine. The worst thing is this ugly bra that I have to wear for another week. Besides, the girls have recorded a lot of the tracks. I need to be there. I've been cooped up in this room since I got home on Friday and I'm going crazy! I'm too anxious to stay here."

"I know, honey, but it's only Tuesday..."

"Mom..."

"Ok. Ok. I just wish you weren't there all alone, sweetheart. When will Terry be back?"

"I don't know, mom. They were at the studio till nearly midnight, last night. I guess that they'll be back when they're done."

"Well, isn't there anyone who could be there with you?"

"Mom, please."

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm just so concerned about you being there all alone. Please, if you're lonely, or just want to talk, please, please, just call me. Any time, honey. Any time at all. Ok?"

"Ok, mommy."

"You're sure that it's ok to go back, tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm seeing Dr Casey at 9:00. She says that, unless there's any issues with the incisions, I can go back if I want. And I really, really want to, mom."

"Ok, baby. I'll let you get some rest. Love you."

"Love you, too, mommy. Bye, bye."

Chris hit the 'end' button on his phone and sighed. He hadn't used Skype or FaceTime to call his mom because he looked awful. He hadn't been allowed to shower for a few days, so his hair was looking hideous and since the girls had gone before he'd awakened this morning and he knew that he wouldn't have any company, he'd decided not to put on any makeup, today.

The problem was, though, he felt like the old Chris - un-needed, no friends and alone. He hated this. He felt like he was losing momentum and he needed to get back to the studio or he'd bust wide open.

There was a knock on the door to the suite, Chris knew it was room service with the chicken soup he'd ordered. "Just leave it by the door, thanks! I'll grab it in a minute." He called.

"No can do," a voice called back. "I need to talk to my beautiful superstar face-to-face."

It was Allen Bennett, Chris recognized his voice. "Damnit," he whispered, then he shouted, "Mr Bennett?"

"Oh, man. You guessed," chuckled back the voice.

Chris tried to think of an excuse, but nothing came to his mind. "Umm, Mr Bennett... I'm really a mess in here. Can I see you in the morning?"

He heard Mr Bennett sigh.

"Come on, your highness. I know what a person looks like 5 days after surgery. Open the door, Chrissie, I need to talk to you."

Reluctantly, Chris opened the door and let him in.

Allan stepped in, then turned to look at Chris. "Oh, dear God!" he joked, "you're a monster!"

Chris rolled his eyes and pulled his robe around him a bit tighter as he chuckled at the joke.

"Here," Allan handed Chris a room service tray, "the room service guy was on the elevator with me. I don't think that chicken soup and a bread-stick is part of Denise's diet plan, is it?"

Chris took the tray and shrugged. "She's been ignoring me the last few days, same as everyone else."

Allan took a seat on the sectional sofa and indicated that Chris should join him. "Oh, poor little thing. No one loves her. Honest to God, you're breaking my heart. Ok, enough about you. We need to talk. When are you coming back?”

“Tomorrow, I hope, if Dr Casey says I can.”

“Thank goodness! Did the girls play anything that they've recorded this week for you?”

Chris sipped his soup and shook his head.

“I'm not surprise, Chrissie. It's not going great and I'm getting concerned. We had such a great start, but now they're floundering a bit without you.”

“Me!?” Chris nearly spit out his soup. “Why me? I don't play guitar that much and both Terry and Grace are twenty times better than me. I thought everything was going fine.”

“Fine, yes. Great, no. Here's the thing, Chrissie. When I try to tell them how to do something better, they shut down. They don't seem to understand what I'm getting at. But, I've watched you guys working. When you tell them how to do it, they get it. You know how to communicate with them better than I do. I guess it's a kind of WonderTwins thing. You know?”

“Not really.” Chris was a little perplexed. He’d never heard of ‘The Wonder Twins.’ He remembered what Margo had said the other day. She’d said that Allan wanted the girls had to come up to Chris’ level.

“Mr Bennett...”

“Oh, my God, you girls... please, knock it off. Call me Allan, please.”

Chris thought about it for a moment, but shook his head and continued, “Mr Bennett... sorry, I can't call you by your first name, yet. It's how my mom raised me. Anyway, I don't think it's me or what I say. I think it's us. You know, it's like that saying – ‘The whole is better than the sum of the individual parts.’ Like... do you know who The Beatles were?”

Allan looked incredulous. “Yes, Chris, I've heard of The Beatles. What does that have to do with you and the girls. Please, don't tell me that you're comparing yourselves to The Beatles?”

“No, no, it's just... well, my dad loved The Beatles, so I did too. I know every song backwards and forwards and, as I got ready for coming here, I read a lot about how they worked in the studio and, I think it was George Harrison who pointed it out, but, whoever it was, he said that they had a shorthand, you know what I mean.”

Allan nodded.

“So, once they had a song and played through it a few times, they'd just look at each other in a certain way and everyone knew what that look meant. I think it's the same way for the girls and me. I mean, I've only been in the band for a month or so, but Terry and I have played together since we were 5 or 6. Our dad taught us how and he and Terry and I would play every night. I know how to communicate with her and she knows how to communicate with everyone, so... I don't know, it just works.”

Allan smiled. “Ok, I get it. So, hopefully we can get better communication going tomorrow, ok?

“Ok.”

Allan hesitated. “Does your dad know about... this?” He indicated Chris’ clothing and new breasts.

Chris shook his head, no.

“Do you want me to tell him?”

“My dad’s dead, sir.”

“Oh, Chris. I'm sorry. I didn't know. How did he pass away. Was he ill?”

“No, sir. It was because of me.”

“What?” Allan was truly confused. “What do you mean, Chris?”

“Well, sir. When I was a boy, I was kind of always kind of sick. Terry was always healthy and smart and athletic while I was always missing school and in the hospital. Eventually, they figured out that I had a rare blood disease and they were able to treat it, but for awhile, like from fourth to seventh grade, I was in the hospital more than I was home.”

Allan realized that this was probably the reason for Chris’ small frame and shy nature. Poor kid.

“So,” Chris continued, “this one night, Terry had a concert at school and dad never missed anything like that, so he went and he used a video camera to record it for me. He told me he'd come to the hospital to show me after the concert and he did, but while we were watching it, it started to snow pretty heavily. When he left at 10:00 that night, he said he loved me and that he'd be back in the morning to eat breakfast with me as usual. Anyway, he never made it home.”

Allan was speechless for a moment. “Chris, I'm so sorry.”

Chris shrugged. “So, I guess it was my fault, you know. If I'd been at home, my dad would still be alive, but, I wasn't, so my mom was alone and Terry didn't have a dad... and it was kind of all my fault.”

Chris didn't cry, but Allan saw his sorrow. It was deep and irrational, but Chris was showing him sadness as deep as his soul.

“Chris, you know that it wasn't your fault. Your dad loved you and was concerned. There's a reason that these things are called accidents, you know.”

Chris half-nodded and half-shrugged. This was probably the first time he'd ever said this out loud and he couldn't even look at Allan after saying it.

“Chris, when you sing, I can hear such deep, beautiful feeling in your voice. I think, just maybe, that when you sing, part of you can sense your dad right there with you, can't you?”

Chris nodded and a tear ran down both cheeks.

“You know what I think, Chris? I think your dad can feel you when you sing, too. I think you can channel his love when you open your mouth and let that beautiful sound come out. What do you think?”

Chris’ head rolled forward and he tried to hide his tears with his hair, but he gave a little nod and said, “I hope so,” very quietly.

Allan reached over and patted Chris’s back. “I sorry, honey. I didn't mean to upset you.”

Chris shook his head and raised it back up. “No. I'm not upset. It's just been a very sad and lonely day for me.”

“Can I make a suggestion?”

Chris nodded, again.

“Write a song. When you're sad, write it down. People love sad songs. What was your dad's favorite song?”

Chris thought, then said, “I don't know. He listened to everything and loved it all. When he sang, he had this great, low voice. Very manly, you know? People loved to hear him sing. Just this afternoon, I was trying to remember this one song that he used to always sing, but I can't remember it. It was kind fast and a little folky, but I just can't remember it.”

Allan smiled, “Did you ask your mom?”

“No. I never bring up dad unless she does and I think she avoids bringing him up so that something like this doesn't happen.”

He smiled at Mr Bennett.

“You’re a very talented young guy, Chris. Your dad would be proud.”

Chris gave a nervous shrug, “My dad would probably be as confused as I am, right now. I mean, I know that I'm doing the right thing... it all feels so right... so, I guess it has to be right... but I really never dreamed that I'd ever be where I am right now and I certainly never dreamed I be recovering from breast implant surgery or wondering what dress to wear to the studio.”

Allan gave a reassuring smile, held up a finger, stood and disappeared into Chris’ room for a moment. When he reemerged, he was carrying a simple, light blue, casual summer dress on a hanger. “I'll make it easier for you, sweetheart. Wear this tomorrow. Blue is beautiful on you. It'll give you a little extra something when you sing. Ok? We’ll call it your power-dress.” He hung it from the moulding around the closet door.

Chris smiled. He knew that Allan was just being a ‘dad’ for him right now and he found it very sweet. “Ok, I'll wear that tomorrow.” He laughed just a bit to himself because not only was the dress Terry’s, but she had worn it to the studio a few times already. Obviously, Allan had not noticed.

“Ok, Chris. I'm going to head out. Let me know how tomorrow goes and come back as soon as you can, ok?”

“Ok,” said Chris.

Allan gave him a hug, then put his hand under Chris’ chin and raised it so he could wipe the tears from his cheeks. “You gonna be ok?”

“Yeah. I'm fine.”

“Ok. See you tomorrow, I hope, and, if you do happen to write a good song tonight, bring it with you. We could use one or two more for the album.” He placed a very welcomed kiss on Chris’s cheek and headed out the door.

“Ok,” Chris smiled as he closed the door behind Allan. He considered trying to write a little, but he didn't feel inspired without Terry and Margo. So, he decided to just put on his nightie and go to bed. Who knew when the girls would be home and it was better to be asleep than lonely.
 
Chapter 2
 

“It's good, girls, I'm telling you the truth,” said Mark Johnson, the assistant producer and recording tech for their album. “Allan’s going to like it, I promise. Why don't we call it a day?”

Margo snickered, “What's the matter, Mark? Can't wait for your date with Terry?”

Terry punched Margo in the shoulder, “Shut up, you tease. He's right. I think that the tracks sound good. Until we get Chris back, I think we're in good shape.”

Grace and Gina walked into the booth. Both had changed into new Country-style, short dresses with new cowgirl boots.

“So, are we done?” Asked Gina, “Cause I can't play drums dressed like this.”

“I guess so,” Margo said with a little frustration in her voice. “Since the three of you are all letting your hormones get the better of you, there doesn't seem to be any thing else we can do, tonight.”

“Good!” Exclaimed Mark, as her grabbed Terry by the waist and pulled her onto his lap. “Why don't you get all prettied up, like Gina and Grace, and I'll change my shirt and we can all go dancing!”

Terry gave him a quick peck, turned and grabbed the dress and accessories that she'd bought during dinner break and grinned broadly as she ran to the women’s room to change. Mark stood and started unbuttoning his shirt.

“What do you say, Margo?” Mark encouraged her for the 14th time. “We can swing into a store for a nice dress on the way, then all of us can go. It'll be fun! Come on.”

Margo smiled, “No. I'm going back to check in on Chrissie. She must be lonely.”

“Oh, how sweet,” Grace said, as she changed her earrings.

“Oh, yeah,” Gina teased. “You tell us not to go out, but your headed back to your little piece of tush-y at the hotel.”

“Oh, hush,” Grace joined the teasing, “but remember that she's only a high school junior. Nothing beyond second base.”

Margo laughed with them as Terry came back in. “What did I miss?” Terry asked.

“Just reminding your bass player, here,” said Gina, “that your pretty little sister is only seventeen.”

“Ugg,” joked Grace, “bass players are the worst. Always looking for a piece of ass.”

They all laughed.

Mark, who was used to the playful banter, joined in the laughter as he buttoned his clean shirt. “Wait, aren't you in college?” He asked Terry.

“I was till a few weeks ago.”

“Oh. I thought that you and Chris were twins.”

“We are. It's a long story, but we are twins.”

“So... shit, are you only seventeen!?”

The others laughed as Terry nodded.

“You are robbing the cradle, Mark, my man,” Margo joked as she threw her arm around his shoulder, “but, don't worry about it. So am I.” She said, as she slapped his shoulder and they all headed to the elevators.

When they reached the lobby, there were two town cars waiting for them. Mark, Terry, Grace and Gina all piled into one while Margo got into the other.

The hotel suite was dark when Margo arrived. She had expected Chris to still be up, it was just 10:00. She creeped up to his bedroom door and peeked in. The room was dark and his breathing was deep and steady – he was asleep.

Margo let a disappointed sigh pass her lips as she went to her room to change. She stripped to her panties and put on a tank-top and a pair of women’s silk boxer-bottoms and climbed into bed. She rolled to her side and could already tell that sleep was hours away.

“This is ridiculous,” Margo said in a frustrated whisper. She threw her blankets off and walked directly back to Chris’ door. She quietly opened the door, slipped in and crawled into bed behind Chris, as quietly as she could.

Chris felt her and stirred. “Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi,” Margo whispered back and pulled his hair gently off of his face and laid it behind his head.

Chris barely opened his eyes, but was enjoying the feel of his hair being combed by her fingers. “Did things go well?”

“They went ok. We miss you. Can't wait for you to come back,” and she began kissing his shoulder and neck.

Chris jumped awake and turned to see who was kissing him.

“What!?” Said Margo, startled by his movement.

Chris shook his head, “Oh, God, I thought you were Terry. You scared me,” and he settled down into her embrace, but facing her so he could turn his head upward to kiss her soft, firm lips.

Margo’s hands slipped down his shoulders and grazed his new and still bandaged breasts. They definitely felt different than the breast forms he’d been wearing.

Then she worked her way to the hem of his nightie and slid her hand under the flimsy material to find his penis surrounded by silky panties. As they kissed, she caressed him through the panties and teased, “Ooh, look what I found in your little panties. That's not very lady like, now is it!?”

Chris was too aroused and too inexperienced to know how to respond.

Eventually, Margo laid him on his back and moved to kneel between his thighs. She pulled his penis free of the panties and gently teased the tip with her tongue.

“Will this be your first blowjob?”

Chris panted and nodded.

“Then I'll make it memorable,” she smiled.

She took him all the way in to her mouth, while teasing his balls with her softly-calloused finger tips.

Chris let out shocked breaths and moans, gripping the sheets while trying to force himself deeper into Margo’s throat.

She pulled off for a moment and said, “Don't worry, sweet girl. Just let it come,” and she devoured him again.

It didn't take long for him to exploded into her mouth as he screamed a high and feminine sound at this massive orgasm.

Margo licked him clean and pulled the panties back up.

When she had repositioned herself so that she was half-upright with pillows behind her and Chris’s head was resting on her breast, she raised his mouth to hers and, through a long and passionate kiss, deposited all of his seed into his mouth.

When she was sure he’d swallowed completely, she broke the kiss and smiled lovingly at him. His hair was a mess from not being able to shower and the combination of the pretty little nightie and no makeup made him look like a little girl in her arms.

“Did you like that?” She asked

“I did.”

“Did it taste good?”

Chris just looked back up, smiled and hugged her some more.

“I bet it did. It'll help you sleep, baby. Now, close your eyes and Margo’s going to hold you all night.”
 
Chapter 3
 

“Hey,” someone was whispering. “Wake up.”

Margo opened her eyes and saw Terry standing over her. Terry held up a finger to her mouth and quietly made a ‘shhh’ sound and indicated for Margo to come out into the suite.

Margo slipped out of the bed as gently as she could and tiptoed out of the bedroom behind Terry.

“Did you fuck my little brother?” Terry turned on Margo.

“What!? No. We just cuddled and fooled around a little, but, no, I didn't...” Margo was in shock. “What the heck time is it?”

“6:15. Denise will be here in a few minutes.” It was Grace who answered. Margo hadn't realized that both Grace and Gina were standing behind her with their arms folded in exactly the way that Terry’s were.

“Hi,” Margo said to them both.

Terry spoke again, “I come home at 1:45 and I find you in my bed with my little brother. What's going on?”

Margo was confused. She'd told Terry that she had a thing for Chris. Why was this a big deal?

“I just wanted to hold him and... well, we fell asleep.”

“Did you... well, did my little brother’s penis... you know... penetrate...?”

“OH, MY GOD! No!” Margo was suddenly moving to the offensive. “What about you? You look like you just finished the walk-of-shame! You’re wearing the same clothes you wore last night!”

“Because YOU were sleeping in MY room, on MY pillow, which is on top of MY nightie!”

“Oh...” Margo balked. “Well, Terry, come on. I told you, I'm really falling for Chrissie. We were just, you know, together. No... penetration... as you so politely put it. I think I really love him – or her, I guess. I am smitten, guys. I am in deep smit.”

The other girls exchanged glances and relaxed, then slowly, grins came followed by laughter.

Margo realized that they were playing a practical joke on her. Part of her wanted to laugh along with it and part of her wanted to dope-slap each of the other girls. “You assholes!” she finally laughed. “You complete assholes!”

Gina hugged Margo pushed her towards her bedroom. “Go on – get changed. Denise is coming.”

Just then, there was a rhythmic knock at the door – the same rhythmic knock that had occurred every weekday morning 6:30 since they arrived. “Damnit!” Margo said as she ran into her room to change. Terry did the same.

Denise entered and pushed her cart to the center of the room, then realized that only Gina and Grace were ready. “Where are the others? I know that her royal highness is excused for another couple of days, but her sister and the tall one... where are they?”

Both girls scurried into the room in clean shorts and tee shirts. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

“Alright ladies, let's start with some stretching,” Denise began, but Margo interrupted.

“You know, Denise, it's been two weeks and I really don't think you know our our names. I'm Margo, that's Gracie, that's Gina, that's Terry and Chrissie is still in bed. Can we, please, use our correct names?”

Denise was a little peeved. ‘Huh, all these young kids. Think their all going to be stars...’ she thought. “Alright Terry, Gracie and Gina. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” they said in unison.

“How about you, tall, blonde and mouthy? Are you ready?”

Margo nodded, “You’re getting better. We’ll win you over, eventually.”

“Sure you will. Ok ladies, let’s get those muscles stretched out.”
 
Chapter 4
 

“Ok, well, everything looks real good,” Dr Casey said as she checked the small incisions on the sides of Chris’s chest. “No seepage and these are feeling fine. How do you feel?”

“Good, I guess. My chest doesn't feel like its being stretched any more. I hate this ugly bra, though.”

She laughed, “Just deal with it for another ten days and you can go back to your pretty bras, again. Oh, and by the way, I wouldn't plan on doing any topless work, if I were you. We didn't work on your nipples at all, so you've got perfectly developed breasts and little girl nipples. They'll probably be more sensitive, but keep them out of sight, ok?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

As Chris took the elevator down to the lobby, he felt great relief. The doctor said that everything was fine and he could get back to the studio. He had expected Terry to have come with him, but Mr Bennett had insisted that she be at the studio. Actually, he was happy about that, now. He really needed a shower before the studio. Now that the bandages were gone, he could get in and wash his body and hair. He may even feel human again. Maybe even pretty for the first time in a few days.

“There's America’s Next Top Model!” joked her town car driver for the day, an elderly (at least 50 years old) southern man with greying highlights in his kinky hair. His name was Willy and he had a great smile. Chris had met him several times before and was happy for his company and enthusiasm today.”

“Haha, very funny, Willy,” Chris teased as, without thinking, he gave Willy a friendly hug. Willy was a big guy, at least six foot two or three and in the area of three hundred pounds. When Willy hugged him back, Chris felt buried in his arms and he liked that.

“Everything ‘aces,’ sweetie?” Willy asked as he led Chris to the rear passenger door.

“Everything’s aces, Willy, but can I sit up front with you and talk?”

“Sure, baby-girl! Anything you want! You know, I have a daughter just about your age and, I swear, when she gets into the car, she buries her face in that cell phone of hers and she doesn't hear a word I say till she jumps out.”

Willy closed the front passenger door after Chris was seated and jogged to the driver’s side, pulling himself in with a few pants and cusses. “Whew! Tough to get old, baby-cakes, but considering the
alternative...”

Chris laughed. It was nice to have someone to talk to.

It took 30 minutes to get back to the hotel and that whole time they listened to all kinds of music, country, rock, blues, Broadway show tunes, and talked about each one. Willy had a really good ear and Chris loved his voice and told him so. He told Chris about bands that he'd never heard of; The Temptations, Booker T and the MGs, Sam and Dave...

“Willy, I think you may know more about bands than anyone I ever met!”

“Oh, sugar,” Willy chucked. “Don't start flirting with an old man like me. How old are you, lamb?”

“17.”

“17!? Shoot fire and save the matches! You're even younger than my Jojo. She'll be 19 in December.”

“I'd really like to meet her sometime, Willy.”

“Well, bless your heart. I'll make that happen, my little superstar.”

Chris smiled.

As the town car pulled up to the hotel, Chris said, “Willy, I have to take a quick shower, get changed and then get back to the studio. Can you do me a big favor.”

“Sure, baby. What do you need?”

“I’ve really been enjoying our talk. You know a lot about music. Usually, I don't meet people who know about more bands than me. So, will you, please, park in the garage and have lunch with me in the restaurant in the lobby so we can keep talking? My treat!”

“Oh, sugar, I really shouldn't be doing something like...”

“Please, Willy! I haven't had any breakfast and I've got to eat and I just don't want to be alone. My treat. Come on.”

Willy could see that this little, young woman was sincere. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Alright, precious. I'll meet you in the lobby in 30 minutes.”

Chris let out a little, “Yay!” As he bounced out of the town car.

As Chris headed for the hotel door, Willy lowered the passenger window and called out, “And I'll pay for my own meal!”

“No you won't!” Chris called back in a teasing manner and he skipped, happily, into the lobby.

The shower was wonderful! He felt glorious after several days without one. He got out, blew his hair dry, grabbed one of Terry’s hair bands and put his hair up, like Terry did, in a high ponytail with some whips in the front hanging down to frame his face. If it weren't for that hideous, plain looking bra, he would have felt great.

He went to the closet to grab a dress, but then he remembered Mr Bennett’s visit last night. Terry’s blue dress was still hanging on the door. He smiled playfully as he took it down and pulled it on. It was a little too big, but so what. It was a cute dress and Mr Bennett might think it was pretty.

In the lobby, Chris found Willy near the entrance to the restaurant

As the waiter came to the table, Chris said, “What would you like, Willy?”

“I'll have the grilled cheese and ham sandwich.”

“Chris smiled at the waiter, “I'll have the Cobb Salad and the gentleman will have the Fillet Mignon.”

The waiter smiled at Willy and raised his eye brows as he left.

“Sugar, you can't be spending money like that.”

“Sure I can,” Chris giggled. “Now, you were telling me about Otis Reading...”
 
Chapter 5
 

When Chris finally made it to the studio, the girls were trying to work out an instrumental section in one of the songs, so Chris went straight into the control room, but no one was there. Not wanting to interrupt their work, Chris pushed the mute buttons on the mixing console and grabbed an acoustic guitar that was leaning against the wall. His discussions with Willy had gotten him thinking about the groove in some older tunes. He quickly came up with a lick that he liked and started expanding that into an outline for a song.

Ten minutes later, Chris’ focus was completely consumed with his new song. Not a lot of lyrics yet, but a strong melody on the refrain. It was coming together. He was playing what he had again when he felt a kiss on the nape of his neck. As much as he wanted to reciprocate, he wanted to complete his review of the music even more.

“Hey,” was whispered into his ear as the kissing continued. He knew that Margo would understand if he continued till the end, so he just leaned his head to the side to allow more access for the kisses. He continued to strum and hum and sing nonsense syllables as his brain worked its creative muscles.

“I had a good time last night,” the whispers continued. Chris smiled and stayed focused. “Let's do it again, tonight.”

The kisses moved to his ear and cheek as he finished the song. With the last strum, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes to accept a forceful, passionate kiss on his lips. It tasted slightly of coffee and mint and Chris surrendered to the tongue that probed deeply into his mouth. An arm moved behind his head as he stretched higher to take the tongue deeper. He could feel himself submitting to the kiss; it was wonderful.

Then, something odd – Chris felt stubble rub his face. ‘Wait! What!?’ He thought and he opened his eyes to see Mark, their recording engineer, with his eyes closed, locked in a kiss with him.

With great difficulty, Chris pushed him away. “Mark!” He shouted and turned to looked out into the studio.

“What?” the very confused young man responded, but then followed Chris’ stare to the studio where he saw Gina, Grace, Margo and Terry setting down their instruments to take a break.

“How...? Who...? Oh, my God! Chrissie!? I thought you were Terry! I'm so sorry, but you weren't here when I left... and your hair... and... well... I'm so sorry!”

Chris was at a loss. No words formed and then the control room door opened and the girls filed in.

“Hey, look who's here!” Gina shouted.

“Hey, baby,” grinned Margo when she saw Chris’ flustered face, “what's up?”

“Nothing,” Chris said, way too excitedly. “Nothing's up. We didn't do anything. It was...”

“Yeah,” Mark interrupted, “Chris has been working on a song in here and I interrupted. It's pretty cool. I think y’all will love it, but he wanted to wait till you came in to play it.”

Chris was like a deer in the head lights. ‘Did they know? Had they seen? Oh, my God, oh, my God!’

“Great,” said Terry, as she moved beside Mark for a hug and a kiss. “Let's hear it. Hey, are you wearing my dress?” She giggled, “and my hair band, my pony tail... oh, my goodness, you're a little clone of me! Look at you!”

Chris blushed an even deeper shade of red. “Yeah. Mr Bennet told me to wear this today.”

“I did what, now?” asked Alan as he entered the control room from the door behind Chris. “Chrissie! You made it! That's great. We've got a lot to do. Now, what did I say?”

So many people in the room... and the kiss... Chris was getting overwrought by it all. Was there an escape?

“Chrissie said that you wanted her to wear my dress, today. That’s all,” Terry said as she snuggled closer to the man that Chris had been kissing just minutes before.

“YOUR dress?” Alan chuckled, “I assumed it was Chrissie’s. Stand up and let's take a look at you, honey.”

Chris stood and felt a little foolish with everyone looking at him. The dress was, undeniably, a little big on him, but only a little. It just made him look a little younger and smaller than a properly fitted dress would have.

“Well, I think you look beautiful, sweetheart,” Alan said and he pulled Chris into a hug. “Frankly, I think you'd look beautiful in pretty much anything, little girl,” he hugged him tightly, then turned him to face everyone else. “I can't believe that you kept all this feminine perfection under a bushel for 17 years. Thank goodness we came along to find the real you.”

“Agreed!” shouted Margo and she pulled him from Alan to her. “Thank goodness!”

“Ok,” Alan clapped his hands, “did I hear something about a new song? What have we got?”

All eyes were again on Chris, but he was ok with that if they were talking about music. “Umm, can I have about an hour to finish. Maybe, if Margo and Terry could work with me, it could be done faster than that. I always stumble on the lyrics.”

“Well, alrighty! Grace, Gina and Mark,” said Alan as he headed out the door, “looks like you have a one hour break.”
 
Chapter 6
 

“Geez, Chrissie,” Alan slammed his hand onto the table in the recording studio, “if this isn't one of the top three songs of this summer, I'll eat my Stetson hat!”

All five members of Dusty Rose bounced on the balls of their feet in excitement. The song, “Get Outta My Way!” was an aggressive, country rock song that was entirely different than anything else they were working on.

“If you could give me one more like this to round out this album, you five girls will be millionaires before New Years!”

Alan grabbed Chris by the shoulders, “Oh, little girl, you are something very, very special,” and with that he planted a kiss full on Chris’ lips. It only lasted a few seconds, but Chris’ heart stopped while the others whooped and hollered. “Now, write me or find me one more - Maybe something with a honky-tonk feel - and you girls will become legends!” and he exited the studio.

Twice! Twice in less than two hours! He'd kissed two men in less than two hours!

“Alright, girls!” Mark said, “let's start rehearing this one! It's not going to do us any good till it's in the can.”
 
Chapter 7
 

It was 1:48am and the other girls had been tucked into their beds for over an hour, but Chris and Mark were still working at the studio.

“Chrissy,” Mark called into the studio through the intercom system, “let's call it a night. You're too tired and we're not going to make any more progress here.”

Chris couldn't remember ever being this tired before. “Yeah... I guess.”

“I'll call for a car. Grab your stuff and I'll ride down with you. “

Chris put his purse over his shoulder and rode the elevator down to the lobby. When the doors opened, there was Willy standing by the door with a big smile on his face.

“Well, good evening, Mr Johnston. Good evening, Miss Christine.” Willy’s infectious smile made both Mark and Chrissy smile, too.

“Good evening, Willy,” Mark said. “Can I trust you with our most valuable cargo?”

Chris smiled, partially out of embarrassment and partially because, aside from Margo, Terry, Gina or Gracie, Willy’s face was the best possible way to end the day.

“Let's get you home and tucked in, young lady,” Willy chuckled as he waved goodnight to Mark and guided Chris to the back door of the town car. He opened the back door, but Chris continued around the car and pulled open the passenger side front seat door, smoothed his skirts under him, sat on the seat and closed his own door.

“That little girl sure has a mind of her own,” Willy chuckled as he closed the back door and pulled himself into the driver’s seat.

“Music?” Willy asked.

“Please.”

“Artist? Style? Era?”

“Your choice, Willy,” Chris rested his head on the back of the seat and closed his eyes. “Just tell me about the songs as they play. I need to learn this stuff.”

“Ok, baby. How about some 60s and 70s pop music? That should keep us awake till we get to the hotel.”

Chris listened as the music played and Willy told him about the songs.

“Billy Ray was a preacher’s son and when his daddy would visit he'd come along...” flowed out of the speakers.

“Now, that's Dusty Springfield. Great voice. Part of the ‘blue-eyedsoul ’ movement. English girl, but sounded American...” he continued to tell Chris about the song, Dusty Springfield, soul music the British Invasion. He just kept talking.

Chris took it all in.

The next song started.

“Well, I tried to make it Sunday, but I got so damned depressed, that I set my sights on Monday and I got myself undressed...”

“Here's a different one. This band is called America, but none of the guys in the band were born in America. They were all military kids and grew up on bases around the world...” he continued and Chris listened.

Song after song played and Willy knew enough about each song to keep talking.

Chris was just starting to drift away when a familiar lick played and Chris sat bolt upright.

“You ok, honey?”

Chris stared at the radio as the lyric began.

“We've been running away from something we both know. We've long run out of things to say and I think I'd better go...”

Chris looked to Willy with a mix of excitement and confusion.

Willy hesitated, but then began talking, “This is Jim Croce. Short but great career. Nice, warm voice and knew how to sell a story. Died young in a plane crash in ’73 and left a wife and son and...”

“This is the song.” Chris whispered

Willy pulled to the side of the road and put the car in park. “What's the matter, baby.”

“This is the song, Willy. My dad’s song.”

Willy smiled and touched Chris’ chin.

“Your dad was a singer?”

“Not professional, but.. this is the song he used to sing for us. He used to drive us crazy singing it. I wish I could hear him sing it one more time, now, though.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “What's it called?”

Willy took-in the child next to him and pulled Chris to his side and let him just listen for a few moments. “It called ‘One Less Set of Footsteps,’ sweetheart.”

They listened until the song was over. By then Chris’ tears were flowing freely, but he wasn't sobbing. Just listening and remembering.

“You ok, honey?”

Chris sat up and wiped his eyes while smiling and letting out a little, embarrassed laugh. “I'm a lot of fun to be with, huh?”

Willy just smiled.

“I need a guitar, Willy. I have an idea.”

Willy put the car in gear, “No problem, your highness. This is Nashville. I'll get you a guitar.”
 
Chapter 8
 

At 2:45am, after a brief stop at an all-night pawn shop, Chris finally opened the door to the hotel suite with his phone in his right hand and a slightly used , natural-blonde Taylor acoustic guitar in his left. He had downloaded a recording of his dad's song to his phone and the guitar chords as well. He was exhausted, but his adrenaline was flowing through his veins, so he knew that he'd never get to sleep. He closed the doors to all the bedrooms, giving Terry and Margo pecks on their cheeks before sitting on the couch with the new guitar, his phone, a pad of paper and a pencil and he went to work.

At 6:00am, the girls were up to prepare for the daily workout with Denise and they found Chris asleep with his phone and a guitar laying across the same blue dress of Terry’s that he had been wearing yesterday.

“Honey, wake up,” Gracie whispered to him as she gently shook his shoulder. “Chrissie, wake up sweetie. Come on. You should get to bed for a few hours.”

When he regained consciousness, Chris sat up quickly and, with great excitement, asked them all to sit and listen to him.

“So, last night, I heard a song that I haven't heard in a long time. Terry, you know this.”

He grabbed the Taylor guitar and started playing the old Jim Croce song. The other girls nodded their heads to the groove and made remarks, “I've heard this,” “This is on my dad’s playlist,” “I like this.”

Terry just smiled as she heard Chris sing. When he was done, Terry’s eyes were watery with emotion. She came to the couch and pulled Chris into a deep, warm hug, burying his face in her shoulder and neck. When she released him, he sat back and smiled at her. They gazed at each other for several moments before Margo interrupted.

“Well, I'm confused. It's a good song, but it's not the kind of song that would make me cry.”

Terry smiled at her best friend and wiped the tears that were threatening to run down her cheeks from her eyes. “It's daddy’s song.”

“Come again?” asked Gina.

“When we were little, our dad used to play and sing for us. He’d sing all kinds of songs, but whenever he played in public, that's the song he’d always end with. We called it ‘Daddy’s Song’ and, when we wanted to hear him sing it, we’d clap and yell ‘Daddy’s Song! Daddy’s Song’ until he did it for us. I haven't heard it since daddy died.”

“Wow,” said Denise, who had entered unnoticed while Chris had been singing. “Seems like I'm breaking up something big, but we do need to get started.”

“Oh, wait, wait,” Chris said, grabbing his phone. “I used my GarageBand app to see if we could make this song work for us. I used a more contemporary drum beat and I added a ton of background vocals. Listen...”

Chris played his recorded tracks for the girls. When he was done, he went back and pointed out some of his biggest changes. “Gina, if you can kinda break out of the straight beat in the bridge and do something more like this (he clapped his hands in a syncopated manner to indicate his idea), I think it will open it up a lot. Gracie, if you could do this mandolin pattern (he demonstrated on his guitar) during most of the song, but then maybe work out an edgier solo, maybe on mandolin or maybe on electric guitar, I'm not sure, I think it would be really cool. Terry, if you could use a harder strum, like the original recording, but with a brighter string sound, I think it'd be a really rich sound under Gracie’s pattern. And, Margo, if you could double these guitar lines at the beginning middle and end, down an octave, then just play a standard bass-line under the rest of it, I think we could make this song kick butt!”

The girls were all focused on what Chris had just said and the deluge of creative conversation began with each talking to and over each other.

“Ladies, ladies!” Denise interrupted. “This is all well and good, but I am here to make your skinny little asses look good on stage, so put that aside and let's get started.”

There were three solid seconds of silence and stillness before Gina said, “Nope! No way! We need to get downtown, like now, while we’re this wired.”

There was a shout of general agreement and the other girls ran to their rooms to change, leaving Chris and Denise together in the room.

Denise, who had seen this kind of enthusiasm before and understood that she needed to let them off the hook today, smiled at Chris.

“Daddy’s Song, huh?”

Chris nodded as he put the guitar into its soft-case.

“I didn't know that... well, that your dad had passed away.”

Chris shrugged, “I know. It was a car accident on a snowy night, a few years back.”

Denise made a slightly uncomfortable gesture to offer comfort to someone that she barely knew. She smiled and rubbed Chris’ left shoulder with her right hand and then moved it to his cheek. “You are such a pretty little thing. I bet you were daddy’s little girl, weren't you.”

Chris was grateful for Denise’s empathy and stuttered on his reply. “No. Terry was always daddy’s little girl. Terry’s so much... better at... well, everything, you know? It's easy to be Terry’s parent. Me... I've always been the screwup. Never as good in school, or at sports, or at making friends as Terry. She’s kind of my hero... I mean, well, she was always both daddy and mommy’s little girl. I was always just... Chris.”

Denise couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had just seen this pretty little thing take complete control of everything, the music they would play, the song they would sing, how they would sing it and play it, everything. Now, she saw tremendous self doubt in this little girl. How?

“Oh, darling, I bet your daddy loved you just as much as he loved your big sister.”

“Twin. We're twins,” Chris said, then with a chuckle. “See, she even grew better than me. But, you know what, my mom and dad loved me just for being Chris and that's ok with me. As for Terry, there's nothing in the world better than being her little sister.”
 
Chapter 9
 

“One more dub for the background vocals and this one will be done!” The speaker gave a soft click when Alan released the ‘Talk’ button in the control room. “Damn, son,” Alan said to Mark, “I never would have seen this coming. A forty or fifty year old minor hit. Huh. These girls are on fire! Let's make a knock-list for all the songs before we leave tonight. We should be able to wrap this album up in a week or so.”

Mark gave a thumbs. “Have you made a choice for the first release?”

“I love ‘Get Outta my Way,’ but I'm thinking we should throw a little blood in the water first; probably ‘His Eyes.’ That'll get the girls out there as country girls – you know, we do a video with farm-girl costumes, or maybe an Antebellum theme with hoop-skirts – then we release ‘Get Outta My Way’ with a more contemporary look. What do you think?”

“I'm digging this one, Alan. I'm glad they didn't tell me what the song was at first, because I would have shot it down, but, now, I really like it.”

Alan shrugged. “I do, too, but releasing a cover too early can destroy a band’s credibility.”

Mark shrugged and smiled, “It’s a kickass song, though. A kickass song.”
 
Chapter 10
 

“That's it, ladies, the album is in the can!” Alan announced with a great deal of flourish and theatrical flare. It had been six, nitpicking days since they recorded ‘One Less Set of Footsteps’ and everyone was running on pure adrenaline at this point. “Tomorrow, 11:00am, photo shoot for the cover and promos and then our traditional celebration dinner at 7:00 at Antonio’s!”

They all applauded.

“Enjoy your last few days of anonymity, girls, because a month from now, everyone's going to know your names and faces!” Alan said as he escorted them towards the front door of the building.

Their driver was standing and waiting.

“Willy!” Chris hollered, “we’re done! The album’s done!” He yelled as he hustled over to give Willy a hug.

“That's not what I heart, darlin’” Willy returned the hug. He'd started to feel like Chris was his own daughter by now. He loved Chris’ enthusiasm. “I hear that you're just getting started.”

“Evenin’ Willy,” Alan smiled and patted Willy on the shoulder.

“Evenin’, Alan. How did it go?”

“Stellar, Willy, just stellar. These girls are stars, I'm telling you. Especially that one you've got. She's a sweet little thing out here, but, Lordy, she is a spitfire when she sings and plays,”

Willy laughed and gave Chris a firmer hug.

“Hey,” interjected Gina, “How come you sound so Southern all of a sudden?”

“Do I?” Alan asked. “Haha, I guess that when Willie and I get together, I fall back on how I talked when we were boys?”

“You grew up together?” Asked Margo.

“Sure did,” chuckled Willie. “Two, dirt poor, hard to manage boys, raising hell together.”

“No kidding?” Said Terry, “ and now you work for Allan?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Alan laughed. “Willy is an entrepreneur with his fingers in lots of pies. The limo service is just one of them. As a matter of fact, Willy loaned me the money to start this company 25 years ago.”

“You’re rich?”asked Chris a bit confused.

“I'm comfortable,” Willy laughed and Alan rolled his eyes.

“Then why do you drive the limos? Can't you hire someone to do that?” asked Grace.

“I can and I do, but I had a driver call in sick a few weeks ago and I covered for him. That's when I met this remarkable little girl, right here,” he gave Chris a playful squeeze. “I was so impressed by her that I wanted to be the driver whenever you girls needed a lift.”

“Wait a minute!” Said Chris as something occurred to him. “That day I bought you lunch. You ordered a grilled-cheese sandwich. If you're so rich, why didn't you order something better?”

“Cause I wanted a grilled-cheese sandwich, but you seemed to want me to have that fillet mignon. How could I say no to a beautiful thing like you?” and they headed to the car.

As they pulled away from the building, Chris, who was sitting up front, said, “Willy, where can I buy a nice dress for tomorrow night? Something classy and grown up?”

The girls who were chatting in back, stopped and Terry said, “Chrissie, babe, it's not going to be formal. Allan said it's just a nice, restaurant. Any nice dress will do.”

“No. It's a big deal for me, not just because of the album, but because I get to throw away this hideous bra tomorrow. I want to be fitted for a pretty bra and a pretty dress. I've been a frumpy old lady too long. I want to be pretty.”

“Oh, my God, we've created a diva!” Gina joked and everyone laughed.

“Bra fitting!?!?!? Since when is Chris the girliest of all of us?” Grace joined in the gentle teasing.

“I know just the place, darlin’,” Willy said. “It's a nice shop for ladies over on the South End. If you want, I'll drop the girls off and take you there.”

“Is that ok, Chris?” Terry asked. “I was really looking forward relaxing down in the hot tub, but I'll come with you if you want.”

“I'll be fine, sis.”

“I'll join you, baby girl,” Margo said. “I could use something nice, too. I've been in sundresses, jeans and yoga pants since the second day we were here. I could stand to be a little girlier, too.”

They dropped off Gina, Grace and Terry at the hotel. Terry gave Chris a kiss on the cheek through the open car window. She leaned in and whispered into Chris’s ear, “I can't believe I'm sending my baby brother out on his own for a new dress and a bra fitting. Wait till I tell mom.”

Chris smiled and gave her an excited shrug, “I want tomorrow to be amazing! We made beautiful music together, now I want to be as beautiful as you guys.”

Terry kissed him again, “You're always beautiful, precious. You were beautiful before you ever put on a dress. I hope you know that.”

Chris smiled. Terry saw sheer joy on his face, like a high school girl going shopping for a dress for prom or homecoming. Sweet, feminine excitement. “I love you, sissy,” he said. He hadn't called her ‘sissy’ since they were very, very young.

Terry was touched and her eyes became watery. “I love you, too, Sissy,” she said and stood back so the car could pull out.
 
Chapter 11
 

Margo and Chris were escorted to a fitting area. They had already told the woman fitting them that they were fine doing this together.

“How old are you girls?” Her tag said her name was Courtney.

“I'm nineteen.”

“Seventeen.”

“Are you sisters?” Courtney asked.

“Nearly,” Margo gave a half-laugh as she said, “Chrissie’s twin sister and I have been friends for years. Her sister was too busy to come tonight, so I'm her chaperone.”

Courtney looked Margo over. The country-style, mid-thigh dress she was wearing was obviously from a discount store, but the boots were pricey. Maybe they could afford some nice lingerie, after all. She'd find out.

“What is your name, darling?”

“Margo.”

“Ok, Margo. Let's start with you so your little friend...”

“Chrissie,” Chris said when he realized she was asking his name.

“Chrissie, sees how it's done. Now, can you lower your top so that I can measure you properly?”

“Sure,” said Margo, as she lowered the elastic top of the dress and pulled her arms through, revealing her well developed chest.

“Well, that's a pretty bra,” Courtney complimented Margo as she worked with detached, professionalism and she took measurements. She took several around the cups to insure a good fit and one around the band. “You're wearing a 36D. That seems like a good choice, but I think I can show you a few styles that may flatter you even more than this bra. Although, this is a good choice, too. Nice eye for fashion, young lady.”

Margo smiled, “Thank you.”

Courtney called an assistant to bring a selection of bras for Margo.

When she turned to begin working with Chris, Courtney said, “Oh, dear. Oh, dear.” She brushed Chris’s cheek with her finger tips, “I think our little lady, here, is a bit nervous. Look how flushed she is. Don't worry, child. A woman’s first bra fitting is a rite-of-passage. I won't hurt you.”

In fact, as much as he really wanted to be properly fitted for a bra, Chris was a bit nervous about doing this, but he was flushed because he was looking at Margo. He'd seen her walk around the hotel room in a sports bra many times and he'd seen her in a fairly revealing pajama top, but he'd never seen her wearing something this intimate and beautiful. Not only did he want to touch and kiss those beautiful breasts, he wanted to look that beautiful for her. He wanted her to want to touch and kiss his breasts, too. His penis was straining in his tight, little gaff between his legs. His knees were weak. He wanted her to take him right here and right now.

Margo saw the passion in his face. She raised her eyebrows in approval and took a deep breath, raising and lowering her breasts as she did so, and she gave Chris her best, “I love you, too,” smile before Courtney’s assistant returned with a handful of bras for Margo.

“Just put them there, please, Rebecca.” She turned to Chris, “Now, young lady, would you rather that I do this in private or should your friend stay?”

Chris snapped out of his stupor and said, “Stay. Please, Margo, stay.”

Courtney just saw a cute, nervous, inexperienced, young woman who was eager for the trappings of womanhood. She thought that her jitters were adorable.

“Don't worry, sweetie. I won't hurt you. Now, lower your top.”

Suddenly, Chris thought that maybe this was a bad idea. What if she could tell. Cautiously, he lowered the top of his dress as Margo had done, revealing the prescription-bra he had been wearing since the surgery.

“Oh, honey... oh, no, no, no... a beautiful thing like you needs to be covered in beautiful things. Not that thing. Don’t worry, child. Courtney is here and she'll take care of you. When you leave today, you are going to feel like a goddess.”

Chris gave a delighted, but modest smile as Courtney went to work. As she measured his cup-size, each graze of a finger sent an electric shock through his body, directly to his groin. He was both horrified to feel such an erotic thrill in public and titillated nearly to the point of orgasming right there.

“32B,” Courtney said to her assistant. “Same selection as the other young lady, please.”

Moments later, Chris and Margo were is separate booths trying on their bras. Each one felt more heavenly than the one before. The soft, satinlined cup held and caressed the breasts and enhanced their figures beyond anything that either of them had ever worn before.

When they emerged, Margo was wearing a softly lace, silver bra under her dress that gave her a much more natural look than she had ever pulled off before. Chris was wearing a light blue, balconette style that shaped his new assets into perky, half-orbs.

When each girl said that they'd each take all the bras they'd been shown, totaling nearly $600 per girl, Courtney was impressed.

“And you need a dress, too, darling, right?”

“Yes,” Chris smiled, a bit excited. “I don't want to look like the youngest in the room tomorrow. I want to look... well... womanly, you know. I want to be beautiful and womanly. Does that make sense?”

“I understand, baby,” Margo said, and she did understand. Chris had really come alive in the studio and even though Allan and Mark were in charge of the recording, Chris ran everything else. He worked with the girls as a colleague, coach and cheerleader. Everything worked when Chris was there and everything was difficult when he wasn't. Margo played with his hair and smiled at him.

“A well tailored suit, perhaps?” Courtney asked, pulling a power suit from the rack.

“No, I don't think so. I still want to be pretty and it's more of a celebration with business being discussed than a business meeting.”

“Ahh, perhaps this,” Courtney pulled out a little, silk, black dress with a revealing, but not slutty, neckline and was designed to reach just below mid-thigh for a manageable, but sexy glimpse of leg.

“Oh, it's beautiful,” gasped Margo. “Try it on, Chrissie, you'll look incredible.”

Chris was in awe of the dress. “Is this too much?”

“I bet you'll love it when you put it on, baby,” Margo encouraged. “Please, just try it on.”

Chris looked at Courtney, “How much is it?”

“Only $1,268.00” she said.

Chris, who was wearing a dress that he really liked, but one for which he had only paid $18 at Old Navy, said, “Twelve-hundred dollars!? I don't think my mom paid that much for her wedding dress!!”

“Probably not, babe,” said Margo, pushing Chris to a booth to try on the dress, “but your mother never signed a record contract that could make her millions AND your mom was never as hot as you are.” She pushed Chris in and closed the door behind him. “Don't come out till you have that dress on!” She fake-scolded through the door.

When he came back out, the dress hung on him as if he'd been sewn into it. The top hugged his breasts and showed the cleavage created by his new breasts and new bra, then enhanced his narrow waist and butt to look even more feminine.

Margo’s hand flew to her chest and she looked about to cry, “Oh, my God, you're gorgeous!”

Courtney was not done. She offered Chris a pair of pointy-toed, black shoes with a three inch heel and helped him put them on. Then she gathered his hair and neatly twisted and piled it on his head. “If I could make a suggestion, if you were to wear your hair up, you could pull off a kind of an Audrey Hepburn look, don't you think, Miss Margo?”

All Margo could think about right now, though, was getting her sweet, beautiful, feminine boyfriend home so she could put him in a nightie and show him what it's like to be a woman in bed.
 
Chapter 12
 

When the elevator doors opened, Grace was standing and waiting for the car. Chris and Margo pulled themselves apart. Their lipstick was just a bit smeared, but it was the guilty looks on their faces that made Gracie giggle.

“Oh, hi, girls,” she said.

Margo looked at Grace’s nice outfit and said, “Are you going out?”

“Yep. Rick, that cute techie who set up the microphones all week, he asked me to go to a movie,” her eyebrows played around her forehead with excitement.

“Cool. Have a great time.” Margo said as she and Chris exited the elevator car and Grace moved in.

As the doors closed, Grace stopped them with her hand and called, “Oh, Terry and Gina just went down to the hot tub about five minutes ago. We had dinner in the restaurant downstairs and it took quite a while. Anyway, they'll probably be downstairs for at least a couple of hours, so, you have the place to yourselves.” She gave a knowing smile and let the doors close.

The moment they entered the suite, they were in each other's arms, kissing and tonguing and groping each other passionately. As Margo tried to unzip Chris’s dress, he brushed her hands aside and deftly pulled down the zipper on the back of hers, allowing her dress to fall to the ground.

With a clear shot at her chest, Chris began kissing the base of Margo’s neck and began working his way down to her breasts, reveling in the soft, smooth, perfumed skin of this tall, beautiful woman. He licked and kissed like a boy, or perhaps more like a girl, possessed. Every touch got him more revved up.

“Careful, baby. I can't have hickies in the morning for the photo shoot,” Margo whispered, breathlessly.

Chris was on a mission, though, and when his kisses reached the edge of Margo’s new, satin and lace bra, his tongue worked its way under the decorative edge in search of her nipple. Margo’s breathing became more shallow, causing her breasts to rise with more urgency, exciting Chris all the more.

Soon, the beautiful bra was on the floor and Chris was enthralled in kissing and caressing Margo’s exposed breasts. Her moans became more vocal as her excitement built towards an orgasm. She gently gripped one of Chris’s hands and led it to her crotch where she used his fingers to rub the moist lips of her vagina. Chris picked up on the motion and soon needed no guidance.

As her climax approached, without warning, Chris suddenly sunk to his knees, his soft, feminine dress inflating around him. Then, without a glance up at Margo, he pulled her panties to her ankles and out from under her feet.

As Margo caught her breath and prepared to warn Chris that she had no condoms , Chris raised his head and, gently but firmly, began probing her vagina with his tongue. The thrill was overwhelming for Margo and she shivered as she let out a deep, guttural moan of delight which rose in pitch and intensity until she gripped the back of Chris’s head, feeling his curled hair in her fingertips, and pulled him firmly to her groin and thrust her hips forward and back as the greatest and most intense feeling of her life swept from her vagina to her toes, and her finger tips, and the ends of each hair on her head.

The ecstasy went on for so long that she felt that she'd pass out if Chris didn't stop. So, she wrapped her hands around his cheeks and pulled him away from her. He, too, was winded and flushed from the experience.

When she'd caught her breath, she offered Chris her hands so he could stand. “Come here,” she said as she pulled his head to her shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They embraced for a moment or two, until Chris pulled back and looked down at his legs.

“What's the matter?”

“I... I don't know.” Chris was on the verge of tears. “Oh, no... I think I wet myself.”

Margo pulled the blousy skirt of his dress aside and looked. She saw the milky fluid leaking out of his panties and giggled. “You didn't pee, baby. That's cum. You came while you were eating me.”

She ran two fingers along the inside of of Chris’s smooth, little thigh and brought a sample to her lips. She tasted it with the tip of her tongue, “mmmm,” then gently pushed her fingers into Chris’s mouth. He tasted it with a smile?

Then he said, “Eating you? I thought that was a blowjob.”

Margo laughed at his innocence, “Oh, baby girl, when a woman takes a boy in her mouth, like I did to you, that's a blowjob. When a boy gives a woman oral joy, that's called eating her out.”

Chris cringed. “That sounds disgusting. I'd rather call it a blowjob.”

“Ok, baby girl,” Margo laughed and gave him another hug, “you can call it a blowjob and anytime you want to kneel down in front of me and do that again, you are most welcome. I will take a blowjob from you, anytime.”

“How about right now?” And, once again, Chris’s soft, feminine dress inflated as he dropped to his knees.
 
Chapter 13
 

“Ok, ladies, jump into a chair and let Jeanine and her crew get to work on you. We’ve got a lot to do and only a few hours in which to do it!” Ellen called out as they climbed out of the town car. There was a large tent set up as a makeup studio/dressing room for the photo-shoot on at charming farm, about an hour outside of Nashville.

Since that first day in Nashville, Chris had kept as much space between him and Ellen as possible, but now that the actual recording was done, Chris knew that he would have to see more of her and he dreaded it.

Chris took the center chair with Gina and Grace on his right and Terry and Margo on his left. They had met Jeanine in passing earlier in the week and they knew that she was their stylist, but they were all nervous about how they would be presented on the album cover and in the videos.

Ellen and Jeanine started at the far right and walked along looking at the girls as if they were products. Terry and Margo, in particular, didn’t care for this attitude.

“Well, you’re all pretty enough, I guess,” said Jeanine as she returned to Chris’s chair. “And this is our little superstar, huh?”

Before Chris could answer, Ellen spoke. It was obvious that this was a corporate conversation. “That’s her. Allan is very taken with her. You need to make her ‘pop’ off the cover and out of the video. What do you think?”

“Well, like I said, pretty enough, but it doesn’t help that there’s a prettier clone of her in the next chair...”

“Hey!” Shouted Terry, Margo, Gina and Grace in unison. Chris was just getting used to being called ‘pretty’ let alone being evaluated in this manner.

Jeanine continued without acknowledging that anyone had spoken, “but I think we can make her into a wet-dream for you.”

“Hey!” the girls yelled again, this time joined by Chris.

“Oh, relax, children,” Ellen said with complete dismissal, “and let Jeanine do her magic.”

Jeanine and her assistants went to work washing the girls’ hair, setting it in curlers and placing them under dryers. While their hair was drying, their nails were done and dresses were hung nearby.

“Hey!” Margo shouted too loudly from under the dryer, “We brought clothes for the shoot!”

No one acknowledged her.

“Hey, flunky,” Terry called out in support of Margo, “are you deaf?”

Again, nothing. They looked at each other and gave frustrated shrugs.

An hour later Jeanine and her assistants walked out to leave the girls looking into a row of full-length mirrors. What looked back at them was not what they expected. Each one looked either like a trashy Halloween prostitute or like a Lolita.

“Well,” said Grace, who, like Chris, wore a ludicrously frilly, country-girl dress, “I think I have more product in my hair right now than my mother uses in a month at the salon.”

“No kidding,” said Gina, who looked as if she’d just finished a shift as a cheap prostitute. “This is really not cool. I wanted to wear some nice jeans and a cute top. This is bull shit. I look like a 49 year old whore.”

“Do you suppose their doing this on purpose?” Asked Terry.

“Why would they do that?” Margo asked.

“I don’t know,” Terry thought out load. “I mean, Ellen kind of hates us, I think, and she didn’t seem to love Allan, either. You think, maybe, she’s trying to derail us?”

“Well, she sure doesn’t seem to give a shit about us,” said Gina.

“I look like a 13 year old child made up like by a drunk for trick-ortreating, ” Chris said. His eyes were watering a bit, and his nose was a little red, but he was more angry than insulted.

“I’m not doing this,” he said to the others. “I know how the musicians I respect dress and I’m wearing what I want to wear.”

“Maybe we should call Allan,” Grace tried to get a handle on the situation.

“No, we need to be in charge,” Chris said. “We can’t be little girls to these people. We impressed Evan back in New Jersey and that got us here. We impressed Mr Bennett and Mark and they think we have what it takes. So, I’m not going to let these talentless idiots mess it all up on us.”

“Holy shit!” Gina said. “Look at the balls on this one!”

Chris shook his head, “Look at the boobs. I never had this kind of confidence as a guy, but you all make me stronger and more confident. What do you think? Revolution in the makeup room?”

“Let’s do it!” said Terry as she started unzipping the side of her dress.

Margo gave Chris a big hug. “You are amazing, baby. I love you,” and she planted a deep kiss on his lips. “But, yuck, that lipstick is greasy!”

“Are you ready, girls?” Ellen called from outside of the tent.

The door-flap swung open and out stepped five beautiful young women dressed in moderately priced, pretty, country-style clothes – Margo and Gina in tight, faded jeans with sexy tops and the others in short dresses and cowgirl boots. Their makeup was casual and very “girl next door” and their hair was all brushed out and natural looking.

“What the fuck have you done!?” screamed Ellen. “Get your asses back in there and I’ll call Jeanine back...”

“How about I call Allan, instead?” Said Terry. “Allan knows who we are and how we plan to present ourselves. You want him involved?”

“You know what?” Ellen said with a venomous look to each of them. “You spoilt little bitches just shot yourselves in the feet. Go ahead and call Allan if you want, but I am cancelling this photo shoot and, no matter what, that will delay your release. You’ll miss getting your first single out before Memorial Day and it will be SOL for Runny Nose, or Rusty Hose, or whatever you call this gang of losers.”

Just as Ellen finished her speech, a good looking man in his mid-forties appeared. “All set to go?”

Ellen stood straighter and folded her arms in an attempt to look authoritative. “Sorry, Paul, but we’ll have to cancel for today.” Her delivery was staccato and over pronounced, as if she were a grade school teacher scolding students. “They’ve chosen to look like farm rats rather than Nashville stars.”

Paul looked gave the band a quick and appraising glance, “Nonsense. They look perfect. Let’s go, girls,” and he turned and walked away.

As they all followed, Terry took up the end of the line, but stopped to speak to Ellen before leaving. “Oh, I will be talking to Allan about this, ‘ma'am’ and, believe me, you will be hearing about it.”

Ellen scoffed, “Don’t get cocky, honey... oh, wait, that’s right... you had your cock removed when you were a baby, but your freaky little brother in that pretty little dress still has his, I bet. If you think you can keep me quiet about that, then you’ve...”

Terry squared off in Ellen’s face. “Are you threatening me, lady? ‘Cause if you are, you might want to think twice about going after a Jersey girl. I’ve put up with jackasses like you my whole life and I am sick to death of it. If you come after me or my little sister, you better be ready to take the consequences because I don’t give a shit about what happens to you, but I’m going to protect my ‘freaky little brother in that pretty little dress’ until the day I die. Understand?”

Ellen scoffed, again, “We’ll see. We’ll see.”

“Well. I can’t fire her, she’d just run to the press,” Allan’s voice came out of the phone’s speaker as Terry and Margo, listened, “but I’ll keep her away from you guys, ok?”

“Thanks, Allan,” they both said.

“After all that, how’s the shoot going?”

“Pretty good,” Margo said. “He did a ton of group shots and now he’s doing each of us individually.”

“Margo and I went first so we could call you. Thanks for your help, Allan?”

“No problem, girls. Is my little money-maker ok with all of this.”

“He didn’t hear any of it,” said Terry, “it was just Ellen and me.”

“Ok, good, but Terry...”

“Yes?”

“You have got to stick with ‘she’ when talking about Chris. Please! We already have one person to deal with. We can’t make another mistake.”

“I know, Allan, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Ok. Relax and I’ll see you tonight.”
 
Chapter 14
 

Willy was waiting in the hotel lobby when Chris stepped from the elevator wearing his new outfit. From the skin out, he was wearing black, lacy panties, a matching, balconette bra and a matching garter belt that hugged his hips and acted as a waist-cinched as well. The garters were connected to very sheer, black, silk stockings which covered and caressed his legs and feet – which were snug in pointed, three inch heals. The black, silk dress was low cut, but not too revealing. It was sleeveless and had a gentle flare from its high waist to its hem which sat just above Chris’s knee.

Earlier in the day, Chris had gone to the hotel’s salon to have his hair done. It was parted naturally in the center, hung beside his head, then pulled gently to the back of his head and held in place by two, pearl covered hair clips before falling in beautiful, relaxed curls to the middle of his back.

Pearl earrings, a pearl choker and a little, black clutch-purse with a pearl on its closure rounded off his ensemble.

“Oh, my, oh, my,” Willy said. “Look who’s all grown up, tonight! What happened to my pretty little girl-friend?”

Chris smiled, both flattered and embarrassed, “Is it too much, Willy?”

“Are you kidding?” Willy teased. “You’d look great at a royal ball or a baseball game dressed like that! Lord, my heart is racing!”

Chris laughed and gave Willy a hug. “Have the others already left?” Chris asked.

“They just pulled out. My son is driving them, tonight. Your sister said that you wanted to come a little later, is that right?”

“Yes. Can we have an iced tea before going. I need to talk to you for a few minutes.”

“Well, sure,” Willy said as he offered his arm and guided Chris to the tables outside of the lobby bar.

When he returned from the bar with two iced teas, Willy looked to Chris expectantly.

Chris dove in, “Ok, so, you know I’m the youngest in the band, right?” Willy nodded. “Well, Terry is only a few minutes older than me, but, since I was always sick and she’s brilliant, she was in college and I was still a junior in high school when we left home. Anyway, I love that they all treat me like their little sister, but it kind of carries over to how Mr Bennett and everyone at the record company treats me, too.”

“In the studio, though, I kind of feel like I’m in charge, you know, like the others look to me to be the leader. The problem is that I’m afraid that I’m going to be left out of the career-planning aspects of the process because they view me as a silly, little girl. That’s why I wanted to look more grown up, tonight. So, do I look stupid – you know – like a little girl playing dress up, or do I look like someone who knows what she’s talking about?”

“Well,” Willy stuttered on a reply, “you... you look like a beautiful, confident woman. Wise and talented and ready to discuss her future. If I can give you a little advice, I’d suggest that you walk a little slower, let everyone take you in as you enter, exit or walk about the room, and when you sit, sit on the edge of your seat and keep your back straight. Cross your legs at the knees and slant them with your feet slightly to the side – kind of like that lady over there.”

Chris looked over his right shoulder and saw the beautiful woman Willy had indicated. She was sitting alone near the wall, but was obviously aware of her impact on the area. Chris tried to imitate the pose the woman had assumed, but was falling short, when he said to Willy, “Just wait here for me and I’ll be right back.”

Willy watched as Chris walked to the woman. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but as Willy watched, the woman offered a limp, glove covered hand to Chris as a feminine hand shake. Chris spoke for a few moments before the woman laughed and nodded, offering Chris a seat. Willy watched as the woman walked Chris through a complete tutorial of presenting himself as a confident, feminine woman at a party.

After fifteen minutes, Chris and the woman walked slowly and with a sultry sway back to Willy. “I understand that you are my young friend’s chaperone for the evening?” She said with a smile and a southern twang that screamed of old, Tennessee money.

“I’m just Cinderella’s coach-driver, ma'am.”

She beamed, proud to have been asked to help the young woman. “Well, I guess that makes me her fairy godmother, then. I think she’s ready for her party.”

She passed Chris’s hand to Willy and gave Chris an air-kiss near his cheek. “Call me tomorrow, sugar, and tell me how it went. Now, go be a smash at your party.”

She took one last look at Chris and said to Willy, “My goodness, can you believe she’s this beautiful at only seventeen!? I bet she takes over the world by the time she’s twenty-one.”

“I believe she will, ma'am” Willy chuckled. “I believe she will.”
 
Chapter 15
 

Willy pulled his car to a stop in front of the elaborate restaurant, handed the keys to the valet, who was opening Chris’s door, offered Chris an arm and escorted him into the front door.

“You’re joining us, tonight?” Chris asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, little girl... oops... I mean, strong, confident woman.” Chris smiled at the teasing and as they approached the door to the function room, Willy stopped, turned to face Chris and said, “Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Here we go. Stand straight, walk slowly, let everyone admire you, and place one foot in front of the other. Acknowledge everyone, but don’t pander. Be strong. Be gracious. Be gorgeous, which you can’t help but being, and above all, be you.”

Then he gave Chris a strong, paternal hug and a soft kiss on the cheek. “Here we go.”

The door opened and in they went. There were a lot more people than Chris expected. He looked around for familiar faces, when he let out a little gasp, Willy leaned in and asked what was wrong. “That woman over by the bar, that’s Hillary Scott from Lady Antebellum. Why is she here?”

Willy nodded, “She’s here to celebrate your album, sweetheart. That’s why everyone is here. Look, there’s LeAnn Rimes and Kelly Pickler. Over there is Trisha Yearwood, so I would expect that Garth Brooks is around someplace. They’re all here because Allan invited them and, if Allan invites you, you usually show up. This is all for you.”

“Oh my goodness,” Chris recognized Allan’s voice from the head table. He looked in that direction to see Allan rushing towards them with a huge smile on his face. “What happened to my sweet country girl? Who is the gorgeous, grown up woman!?” He pulled Chris into a hug, kissed him on the cheek and turned to the crowd and asked for their attention – it got quiet quickly.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve already met the backbone of Dusty Rose, the beautiful Margo, Gina, Grace and Terry, but now, I want you to meet the heart of this amazing new band. I had expected to introduce you to the amazing little girl that I have been working to death for the past month, but instead, I seem to be introducing a beautiful woman. Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce a woman who will, very soon, be taking her place with you all as Nashville royalty, Christie Walters, the lead singer of Dusty Rose!”

Everyone applauded. Part of Chris loved this, but part felt like crawling under a table. Luckily, there was a third part that remembered everything that his recent tutor had taught him. He smiled appreciatively and gave a small, but confident, wave to everyone and nodded his head in appreciation.

“Let’s get them all together for a photo,” Allan shouted as the others bounded to Chris.

They all spoke to him at once, “Do you believe this? I love your hair and dress! Did you see Kenny Chesney over there? You’re gorgeous! I heard that Dolly Parton is coming later; Kenny Rogers, too! I which I’d dressed a little better. You’ll never guess who’s here. Etc.”

They took a picture, but Allan wanted more. “John! John Holden, jump in here!”

Chris was shocked to see John Holden, the young man that had performed before them at the student union a few months ago. It was obvious that the girls had already seen him, but Chris was a little confused as to why John was there.

John joined them and turned to Chris, “Surprised?”

“Yes,” Chris said. “Did you get a contract?”

“Sure did. Same night as you girls. My album will be done in a week or so, but they’ve decided to market us kind of simultaneously. Seems that I am going to be your boyfriend in your videos and you’ll be my girlfriend in mine.”

‘Boyfriend!’ Well. That had never really occurred to Chris before. “Oh, cool... that’s... yeah... cool.”

More pictures.

“Ok, just a couple more before we settle down to some good food. Brenda! Brenda, are you handy?”

As John gave Chris a parting kiss, this one much too close to his lips for his comfort, he heard Allan say, “Right there. between your daughters, please.”

Chris’s head swung to his left to see his mother being ushered to them by Allan.

“Mom!” Chris shouted and reached out to embrace her. “I didn’t know you’d be here!”

She hugged her little, beautiful son and said, “Oh, baby, I would not have missed this for the world.”

She pushed Chris away from her and looked him up and down. “My God, look at you. What happened to my shy little boy? That dress is incredible and pearls! I don’t even own pearls that lovely. How much did you spend on all of this?”

Chris loved that his mom was so concerned about the money. His huge smile got wider. “Way too much, mommy, but I needed to do it for tonight. I missed you so much, mom. Thank you for coming.”

They hugged again.

“Ok, ladies, just the Walters girls for a moment.”

Another picture.

“Great and now all the parents.”

More group pictures and family portraits. Then introduction after introduction before the restauranteur announced that the buffet was ready.

The Dusty Rose girls were told to sit at the head table and they’d be served. As people went to the buffet, they all stopped by the head table to congratulate the band.

During a minute of privacy, Terry leaned to whisper to Chris, “Well, little sister, you sure surprised me! I can’t believe you pulled off that look all by yourself.”

“Not by myself, sissy. I paid a lot of very skilled woman. Do I look ok?”

“No, you do not look ok. You look amazing! I hope you can sing and play in that get up, though. They brought our gear over. Evidently, we’re playing, later.”

“No! In front of all these people? Seriously!? Well, no pressure, huh!?”

Just as that sentence came out of his mouth, someone tapped a microphone on the bandstand and said, “Excuse me, everyone. We’d like to start this evening’s entertainment.”

Margo said what they were all thinking, “Holy shit, that’s Garth Brooks!”

A band moved in behind Garth and picked up their instruments.

“So,” Garth continued, “to kick things off, I’d like to call up my favorite singer... my beautiful wife and mother of my children... ladies and gentlemen, Trisha Yearwood!”

Everyone applauded politely as Ms Yearwood took the mic away from her husband with a smile and a kiss. Gina let out a huge, arena concert “whooo!” which was much louder than the rest of the room. Terry shh-ed Gina, but Trisha acknowledge her with a smile. “Congratulations on your first album, girls. I hope this is just the first of many!”

The band started playing “How Can I live Without You” and there was more applause.

Suddenly, Garth Brooks was behind Chris with his hands on his chair. “May I have this dance?”

Chris hesitated. He had no idea how to dance or how to respond.

“Oh, my God, sissy,” Terry said. “Go dance! It’s Garth Brooks!”

Garth Brooks escorted Chris to the dance floor to some applause. Other Nashville notables came up to bring the rest of the band to the dance floor too.

Chris was nervous that he was this close to Garth Brooks, and dancing! He hadn’t practiced this. Where did a girl put her hands? How did girls do this?

Garth saw his inexperience and took Chris’s hands to place them correctly, left hand on Garth’s shoulder and right hand in Garth’s left. Then he placed his right hand in the small of Chris’s back and began to lead him around the dance floor with experienced confidence.

“I know how it is, Chrissie,” he said. “Always on the bandstand and never on the dance floor, am I right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Chris was almost in sense-overload. Garth Brooks was so much bigger than him. He felt small and so much more girlish than he expected to. He could get used to this.

Everyone performed a song or two: Trisha Yearwood was followed by Kenny Chesney, was followed by Luke Bryan, was followed by LeAnn Rimes, was followed by Kenny Rogers, etc., till Garth Brooks closed out all the guest artists.

Allan came over to the head table, “Ok, girls, this is it! Go on up and show them what you can do! Now, just play two songs, ‘His Eyes’ and ‘Get Outta My Way,’ take a bow and call it a night, ok?”

The girls nodded and headed to the stage, but Chris stopped to talk, “Mr Bennett, shouldn’t you have told us about this before tonight?”

“Nope, but Ellen should have, but I imagine that, after your sister threatened to have her rubbed-out by Jersey mobsters, that probably slipped her mind.”

Chris didn’t understand what he meant, but Allan went on, “Chris, this is important. We WANT these people to WANT you to open for them. Now, you and I both know that you can do this performance with your eyes closed, so just be a good girl and go up there and play, please.”

Chris nodded. “It’s just... well, I’m kind of overdressed...”

“Chris, you could not be more beautiful than you are right now. So, just go play those two songs and make them want you to work with them.”

“Don’t you guys have some say in who opens for who? I mean if you say we’re opening, doesn’t that pretty much mean we’re opening?”

“Yes, but I want more. I want them to include you girls in local interviews, invite you back on stage during their sets, I want them to not just respect you, I want them to WANT you onstage with them to make them sound better. Ok?” and he gave Chris a kiss on the cheek and a soft swat on the butt.

Chris let out a surprised, “Hey,” smiled at Allan and walked slowly and confidently to the bandstand.

When he reached the microphone he looked to Terry who said, “Ok, ‘His Eyes’, right?”

Chris shrugged his willingness, but then shook his head and held up a finger, as he turned to the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen...” he thought before continuing. “... we, the girls and I, well, we just cannot thank you enough for being here tonight. I mean... talk about a dream come true! We are just so... so... honored to even be in the same room with you, let alone having the honor of playing for you.”

Allan looked around at the faces in the audience. They were eating this up.

“So, before we begin, can I, first, introduce you to the girls. On drums, our very own Italian spitfire, Gina!”

There was applause.

“On bass and background vocals, the tallest and most beautiful member of the band,” Margo shot Chris a flattered smile, “Margo!”

There was applause.

“On lead guitar, mandolin, pedal steel, classical guitar and everything else, Grace!”

There was applause.

“And, finally, on rhythm guitar and background vocals, my big sister by 34 minutes and my mom’s favorite daughter, Terry!”

There was applause.

Terry came to her mic and said, “And the heart and soul of Dusty Rose, my little sister, Chrissie!”

More applause.

Terry could see that Chris was stalling, but she couldn’t imagine why. They knew the songs, they’d been playing and perfecting them for weeks. She looked to Margo, then Grace, then Gina and back to Chris. She tried to make eye contact, but he wasn’t looking at her.

Finally she nodded to Gina, who clicked her sticks, “One. Two. One, two...”

“Wait!” Chris called out. As the audience looked on expectantly, Chris held up one finger to request a moment of indulgence. Then he reached down and took off first his right shoe and then his left.

There was laughter from the audience.

He skipped a few feet to his left and placed his three inch heels to the side of the stage. He skipped back to a round of applause from the audience, to which he responded by folding his right leg behind his left and lowering himself into a deep and feminine curtsy.

When he stood straight again, he skipped to his right and grabbed a jumbo sized acoustic guitar off of a stand, then skipped back to his mic at stage center. When he pulled the guitar strap over his head, it seems hopelessly too large on him, but he took a moment to adjust the strap.

Margo looked at Gina and said, “He doesn’t play guitar on either of these. What do you think he’s doing?”

Gina shrugged.

“Umm,” Chris finally returned to the microphone, “as I was saying, this whole evening is like a dream come true. You people, well, I mean, you’re all our heroes... I’m just so surprised and so happy to be here. You know, just before we came up, Allan Bennett came over to us and he said, ‘Go on up and show them what you can do! Now, just play two songs, take a bow and call it a night.’”

The audience, who all were very familiar with Allan laughed at Chris’s attempt to impersonate him. Even Allan laughed, although he was very concerned about what was – or rather, wasn’t - happening on the stage. “Come on, Chris, just play the damned songs,” he whispered to no one.

“So, I’d really like to do that, but I have to do something else before that.”

The girls were completely confused and Allan was losing all patience. “Sing the goddamned songs, Chris, just sing they goddamned songs!” He whispered again.

“If you’ll bear with me for a moment, I’d like to point out my mom in the audience. She’s right here to my left.”

A spotlight swung to Chris and Terry’s mom who waved to the applause from the surrounding tables.

“You see, we left our mom alone when we came down here and I can’t believe she’s here tonight. I didn’t even realize how much I missed her till I saw her. I love you, mommy.”

More applause as his mom blew him a kiss.

“Our dad,” Chris continued, “well, he died about six years ago. I was in the hospital and our dad, well, he visited me and it was snowing and, well, there was this accident and we never saw him again.”

Terry looked to her mom who had tears coming down her face. ‘What the Hell is going on’ she thought. ‘This is hardly the time for family therapy.’

Chris continued, “Anyway, our dad taught us, Terry and me, to love music the way he did, and, man, did he ever love music. He would take out his guitar and play and Terry and I, well, we’d just be amazed. And he’d always end with this one song that we called ‘Daddy’s Song’ and, even though I can see Mr Bennett is losing his patience with me,” more laughter from the audience, “I’d really like to take a few minutes and play this song for my mom.”

There were gasps and ‘awws’ and tears from the audience followed by a big round of applause.

“Thank you,” said Chris, “the only problem is, we’ve never actually played this song in front of anyone before. Are we ok, girls?” he asked the band. They all nodded, so he turned to Gina, “Gina, can you count us in?”

She rolled her eyes, a bit exasperated, and tapped her sticks, “One. Two. One, two, three, four.”

They kicked into ‘One Less Set of Footsteps” with all the fire and edge they had used in the recording studio, and, after the first four bars, Chris turned to the audience and sang,

“We been runnin' away from
Somethin' we both know
We've long run out of things to say
And I think I better go
So don't be getting' excited
When you hear that slammin' door
'Cause there'll be one less set of footsteps
On your floor in the mornin'”

The song went on from there and the audience was eating it up. When they reached the bridge of the song and and Gina and Margo kicked into the syncopated rhythms that Chris had arranged for them, the crowds roared their approval. They had never expected this kind of raw power from these five young women. The groove was perfect. The guitar playing was great. The background vocals were infectious, in tune and came at surprising moments. Even though they’d all heard the song before, it was a new and stunning version that could only have been perfected by the girls of Dusty Rose.

When it was over, the audience leapt to their feet in applause and hollers! Even Allan was whistling as loudly as he could.

Then they gave a passionate performance of ‘His Eyes’ which was received with another ovation, followed by ‘Get Outta My Way’ which completely brought the house down. The applause was deafening and never seemed to wane. Eventually, they relented and played it again.

Same result.

Finally, the applause died down and there were congratulations, hugs and kisses and discussions of future performances and then it was time to leave.

As they gathered their belongings, Chris asked his mom where she was staying. It turned out that they’d put her up on the same hotel as the band, but she’d intentionally avoided seeing them so as to surprise them at the reception. So, Chris invited her to ride in Willy’s town car. She agreed, happily.

Allan had been ‘pressing the flesh’ in the lobby and, as Chris and his mom approached he turned and smiled at them. “There’s my little girl!” he shouted as he pulled Chris into a bear hug that lifted him completely off the ground. “Pretty cool day, huh?”

Chris laughed, “Pretty cool.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Hey, never, ever decide to do your own set when I’m in charge, ok.” Allan scolded while smiling.

“Ok. Sorry.”

“I know, and all’s well that ends well, I guess. So, no harm/no foul.”

They hugged again.

“Now,” Allan said, “take tomorrow off and rest. The day after that, we begin shooting video footage, just establishing stuff and inserts of you and John at first. After that, we’ll work out the music performance parts.”

He looked around and located a young red head, “Bernadette!” He called to her. She hurried to his side and handed him a large envelope, which he, in turn, handed to Chris. Here are the scripts for the first couple of videos. They’re pretty wide open so we can adjust on the fly, but it’s always good to have an outline.”

Chris took the envelope and before he knew what was happening, Allan grabbed both of Chris’s checks and pulled him into a full, on the lips, kiss!

When Chris was released, Allan shouted, “I love this kid! This kid and I are going to make history!” And he walked back into the function hall.

“What was that?” his mom laughed.

“I think he’s a little drunk,” said Chris.

“Nope,” said Willy as he joined them. “I know what he’s like when he’s drunk and that’s not it. He’s excited. He sees what we all saw, tonight. You are amazing, little lady and you need to embrace that. Oh, and good evening, Mrs. Walters. My name is Willy. I will be your driver tonight and may I congratulate you? You have raised two remarkable young women. Right this way, please.”

Willy escorted them, one on each arm, to his car. When Chris hustled towards the shotgun seat, Willy cleared his threat and indicated that Chris should sit in the back with his mom. He did.

On the way back, they talked about everything. What was happening in Nashville and what was happening in New Jersey. Chris told his mom how Willy had looked after him and Willy joined into the conversation, too, talking about how impressed he was with all the band members and what he had seen tonight.

Back at the hotel, Willy escorted them both to the elevator.

“Willy,” Mrs Walters said, “Thank you so much for taking care of my babies. I was so worried...”

Willy shook her hand and said, “My absolute pleasure, ma'am. They are wonderful girls.”

The elevator opened and Chris’s mom entered the car.

Chris hugged Willy’s chest as hard as he could. “Thank you for all of your help, tonight. Do you think I did ok?”

Willy laughed, “Do I think you did ok!? Good gravy, child, what do you need to do before you accept that you brought down the house!?”

Chris laughed and blushed.

“Let me recap for you,” Willy teased. “Your outfit was astounding, your hair and makeup was flawless, you moved like a goddess, you behaved like royalty and on stage you were on fire. Young lady, you could not have done better if you were Taylor Swift! So, will you accept my praise and get your pretty little butt into bed and get some rest!?”

Chris smiled even more broadly. “Ok, Uncle Willy. Good night,” and he stood on his tip toes to kiss Willy’s cheek.

“Good night, angel,” Willy said as he returned the kiss. Then he handed Chris the envelope Allan had given him, “Don’t forget this. Now, sleep late tomorrow.”

Chris entered the elevator and his mom wrapped her arm around his shoulder. They both waved to Willy as the door closed.

“You have an interesting relationship with you chauffeur, don’t you think?”

Chris rolled his eyes. He’d been independent for a month and he had to smile at his mom being just like, well, his mom. “Willy’s not my chauffeur, mom. He’s my mentor. My teacher. He’s amazing and he takes care of me.”

Mom laughed, “Ok, honey. If you say so.”

When they reached Chris’s floor, they got off and went to the suite. His mom wanted to say goodnight to everyone and congratulate them on the evening. The girls were still dressed and still wound up. No one was wearing shoes, though, and, as Chris entered, he steadied himself on his mom and removed his as well.

“Well, look who’s here,” said Gina, “the Princess Bride herself.”

Everyone laughed and Chris, disregarding the $1,500+ of clothing, lingerie and jewelry he was wearing, plopped himself down onto the couch between Gina and Margo. Margo threw her arm around him and pulled him in for a warm hug, “You. You. You... you are amazing, you know that?” and she planted a kiss firmly on his lips.

Terry went to her mom and hugged her, “Thanks for coming, mommy. I wish you could stay.”

“Me, too, honey, but I have to get back for work. I’ll stop by to say goodbye before I leave tomorrow afternoon.”

“I love you, mom.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart and you have done a great job with your brother.”

“Sister, well, sissy, I guess.” They both laughed at the double meaning of the nickname.

“Chris,” Grace said, perusing the script for the videos that had been in the envelope, “have you looked at this?”

Chris shook his head. “No. Why?”

Grace threw it to him, “It’s pretty hot. Looks like you have to make out with John Holden... a lot.”

“Ooh!!!” Came the teasing from the girls, including Chris’s mom.

“Holy cow!” Chris whispered as he read the pages.
 
 
To Be Continued...

Dusty Rose - 4

 

Chris and the Dusty Rose girls have finished in the studio for now and Chris has to actually experience his life as Chrissie.

---

 
Author's Note: I apologize. I thought I could finish this series with this installment, as I promised would. I was unable to do that though. There is something about these characters that just keeps me exploring their story. I think I will be able to complete it with one more installment, though. I hope you are enjoying this story.
Please, let me know what you think about my story, both good and bad.
Please, leave me a review! ~Clara.
 
This version of Dusty Rose - 4 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
 
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.

---

 
 
Chapter 1
 

"I am so proud of all you girls," Margo's dad was saying to the band members, Allan Bennett, Willie, Mark and all the parents who had gathered for brunch in the lobby restaurant before the parents returned home after last night's soirée. "And you, young man," he said to Chris who was wearing his hair the same as Terry was today, a high ponytail with a headband and a few wisps of hair hanging on either side of his face, "if I hadn't met you before all of this happened, I never would have known..."

"Dad, dad, dad..." Margo pulled on his sleeve until he looked at her with an innocent 'what' spreading across his face. "Chrissie, daddy. Chrissie is just Chrissie. Always a 'she'" she whispered as he leaned in to her.

"Oh, yes... of course... You, young lady," he continued, "I am so impressed with you! Where on earth was all that hiding all these years."

"It's not 'me,' sir. It's 'us.' We do it together," Chris said.

"Well, whatever... I really just expected to hear the kind of garage band noise that Margo and Terry made throughout high school. Allan, you're a miracle worker!" He said as he toasted Allan with a mimosa.

Allan, who had dealt with family members giving his artists this kind of back-handed compliment for decades, smiled and said, "I'm afraid that Chrissie is right, Phil. The miracle is your daughter and her friends. I've been doing this a long time and this band is one of the best I have ever heard. That beautiful young woman that you raised so well, she's the miracle. Every one of you should be incredibly proud of your daughters. They didn't get this good on their own, so
congratulations to the real miracle workers - you, the parents. Mark and I just push the buttons."

There were hugs all around until Willie interrupted, "I think we need to get everyone headed to the airport at this point. It'll take about an hour to get there and you want to give yourselves plenty of time to check in."

Everyone stood and embraced their children and parents. Lots of kisses and promises to call when the plane landed. In the lobby, Brenda hugged Terry tightly, "I love you, Theresa. Take good care of yourselves and watch out for Chris. I'm a little concerned about him. The more I thought about last night, the more I wonder if he'll be truly happy with this decision."

"Ok, mommy. I'll take care of him. So will the others. It's like he's got four big sisters with him, and two father figures with Allan and Willy. He's in good hands."

"I know he is, honey, but I'm his mom and I have a right to worry about him. Call me if you need anything." They hugged once more and kissed each other goodbye.

When they separated, Chris came to his mom and hugged her tightly. "I'll miss you, mommy. Take care of yourself. Come see us again when you can. We'll pay for it."

She laughed, "No, you won't. I don't even like you buying breakfast for all these people. You need to talk to someone about all this money before you spend it all."

Chris laughed and hugged her again, "Don't worry, mommy. Mr Bennett has us talking to accountants and lawyers this week. We'll send everything to you to look at and sign. Thanks for worrying about us."

"That's all I do, baby." Then thinking back to last night's introductions, she said, "You know that I love you both with all my heart, right?"

"Of corse I do, mommy. Why?" she seemed anxious about something

"Well, last night, when you introduced Terry, you said she was my favorite daughter. I hope you don't think that's true."

His mom looked very concerned about this. Chris smiled and whispered, "Mommy, I'm not your daughter - or, at least I wasn't. Of course Terry was your favorite 'daughter.' She was your only daughter. I just meant it as a joke for you and Terry."

She laughed and hugged him, again. "Oh - hahaha - I get it, little miss smart-ass. You're hilarious. I'm going to miss you. You'll always be my baby, you know - whether you're my daughter or my son. I love you both, so much." She kissed his cheek and squeezed him so he felt like he was going to break. When she released him, he had to catch his breath. "I have to go, now. Bye, bye, honey." Another kiss and a another hug for Terry and she turned to join Willy at the door.

"Take care of her, Uncle Willy! Drive safely," Chris called to him.

"Only way I know how, darling," Willy chuckled.

When they got outside, Chris's mom turned to Willy and whispered, "Please, please, please look after them, Willy. Especially, Chris. I am so worried about that child."

"No need, Mrs Walters. Uncle Willy and Uncle Allan are here to take care of both of them. They're in good hands."

Chris and the girls waved as the town cars pulled away. When they went back into the lobby, Allan waved them back into the restaurant to talk. When they all were in the alcove where they'd had breakfast, Allan closed the privacy doors that shut off the space from the rest of the restaurant. Mark had already departed for the studio, so it was just Allan, Chris, Terry, Margo, Grace and Gina.

Allan spoke in a low voice to ensure that so one outside of the alcove could hear, "I wasn't going to bring this up for a week or so, but I think Margo's father's little outburst puts a pretty fine point on an issue that needs addressing."

They all had a pretty good idea as to what this issue was.

"We don't live in a world where people can easily hide their secrets. We live in a world of TMZ and all kinds of click-bait journalism that is designed to expose celebrities most intimate secrets. So, we need to organize ourselves and present a plausible story. So, other than the other parents and Ellen, who else knows you're a boy?"

Chris shrugged, "I mean, there was the woman from the theatrical makeup place that helped with the breast forms back in New Jersey. She'd know"

"Ok. How do we track her down?"

"I have her card in my purse, upstairs," Margo said.

"Great. Take a photo of it and text it to me, ok?"

Margo nodded.

"Don't forget Evan. He signed us and he demanded that Chris become Chrissie, so, he'd know" said Grace.

"So," Allan continued, "Let's make a list. Each of your parents... no siblings?"

They all shook their heads.

"Ellen, Evan and this prosthesis woman. Now, Terry and Chris, how about relatives?"

Terry shook her head, "None. Both our parents were only children and our grandparents died before we were born."

"No second cousins, or half-assed-relatives? Believe me, once you girls start bringing in money, these people will come crawling out of the woodwork."

Terry and Chris looked at each other and shook their heads. "No," Terry said, "no one."

Allan nodded and wrote something in his notebook, "Ok, how about friends and school?"

Chris laughed, "No friends at school, but teachers would probably remember my name."

Allan smiled, "Well, we've been toying with some scenarios regarding your school. They can't release your records to the press or anything, but, if it ever comes up, we may have to develop a story regarding a private school. We've had complicated backstories to develop before... I think we can handle the school stuff."

Allan wrote down a few more notes and then said, "So, that's a start. I'll get people working on covering our asses on these fronts." Then he looked at all the girls and said, "Can anyone else think of anyone who might know our dirty, little secret?"

Everyone shook their heads, except Gina who said, "Umm... I think John may know."

Everyone got quiet and looked at her.

"John who?" asked Allan.

"John Holden. That night that Evan signed us, John was there. He saw Chris performing as a guy. I'm pretty sure that we introduced Chris to him."

"Holy cow," Said Gracie, "You're right. Actually, I'm pretty sure that we introduced him as Terry's twin brother, too. He must know! Why didn't he say anything?"

Allan leaned back and put his fingertips on his forehead and rubbed. "I'll bet he didn't say anything because he wants his shot at fame and doesn't want to screw things up for himself. You now, he was in the control room several times while you girls were recording and, like everyone else, he was blown away by y'all. My guess is that he's a kid who'll do what needs to be done to get ahead. That could work for us if his release goes well, but, if not... then it could definitely work against us. I guess I need to talk to him and make sure we're all in the same page."

There was a bit of quiet while they all thought, then Terry said, "Look, Allan, since we're talking about John, can I talk to you about the video scripts for a moment?"

Allan sat up straighter in the chair, "Ok, but before we get too far into this, just remember that the script is just to set up this romance between Chris and John. You will all be heavily featured in the performance sections."

"Well, that's kinda the point, Allan," Gracie said.

"You see," Terry said, not wanting to upset things, but needing to make her point, "Chris is really uncomfortable with the script."

"Sissy," Chris said, "I'm willing to..."

Margo cut him off, "And he made a really good point this morning. If this should ever go south on us, it could, possibly, destroy our careers, but if John's seen as Chris's lover... well, this is country music, right? There's not a whole lot of openly gay country singers. He'd go down with us. So..."

Allan interrupted, "... so, we should, what? Pull this whole promotion we have developed to tie the two acts together? Jeez, girls, that's kind of a big thing. We've invested a lot of money and time into these parallel projects. I can't just throw it all away. I need to think about this a bit."

"Can we offer an alternative?" Grace asked

"Because Chris has a great idea," Margo said.

"It was just a thought..." Chris said, feeling kind of stuck betwixt and between the girls and Mr Bennett.

Terry rubbed his back for encouragement. "Go ahead, sissy. Tell him your idea."

All eyes were on Chris who was searching for a diplomatic way to proceed.

"Well?" Allan said, "Honest, honey, I'm open to any ideas."

"Umm," Chris began slowly. "I was thinking that, instead of having me be the center of the videos, maybe someone else could be John's romantic interest."

"Uh huh," Allan said. "Let me guess - we use Terry instead of you, right? I know you guys look alike, but how will that shield John if things go awry?"

"No, no... I was thinking... well, you see, I don't know how to act at all and Terry, Gracie and Margo don't have any experience at it either... so, I'm suggesting that Gina be the one we feature."

"Gina?" said Allan.

"Me?" Said Gina.

"Why not you?" asked Terry. "You told us you were in the theater program in high school and we've seen all the awards on your bedroom wall."

Grace joined in, "You're the only one with any experience."

"Alright, everyone, just hold on a moment. Chrissie," Allan interrupted, "YOU are the face of Dusty Rose. Gina is - and no offense, Gina, darling - Gina is as far away from the focus of the band as someone can be. It won't work."

"No, wait, it will... it has!"

"It has?" Allan's eye brows were nearly leaving his forehead. "When?"

"1964 - the movie 'A Hard Day's Night' - and then again in 'Help!'" Chris said cautiously. "In both of those Beatles films, Ringo was the main character."

"Chris, you keep coming back to The Beatles! You are not The Beatles. This is not 1964. This is the 21st Century and we need to market accordingly."

"I know, I know, I know," Chris said as his brain started to think through what he had just mentioned in passing, "but what if... do you know that song 'Stop Dragging My Heart Around' by Tom Petty and Stevie Knicks?"

Allan nodded.

"What if, instead of building the video stories at the beginning of one relationship, we start it at the end of one and the start of another. I mean - what if we do a breakup song and one of us, we could us Terry if we want to protect John, breaks up with John and he sees Gina and falls for her. That way we could have Gina do the heavy acting and the rest of us just being supportive, or jealous, or just playing in concert sections. That would work, right?"

Allan sighed, "Yes, I like it, it's different, but look - we have a completed album from Dusty Rose. The only breakup songs are 'Get Outta My Way' and 'Footsteps.' I'm not leading your career with one of those. We need a ballad first. So..."

"... so we record a breakup ballad with John and release it on his album!" Margo said.

"His album?" Allan said. "Well, that is interesting, but - first, he doesn't work as quickly as you girls do and second, what breakup ballad? You're not doing another cover song, so what do you have."

Terry smiled, seeing that Allan was liking this idea, "We don't have one, but my little Sissy can write one that will break your heart!"

"WE!" Interrupted Chris. "WE can write it. I'll need some time and some help."

"How much time?" Allan asked.

"How about a week?" Chris said.

"How about a day?" Allan said. I'll hold off the video shoot for 24 hours to hear what you come up with and, if - and only IF - I like what I hear, I'll consider it."

They all applauded, but Gina said, "Wait a minute. Does this mean I have to make out with John Holden?"

"Possibly," Allan said.

"Cool." Gina smiled.
 
Chapter 2
 

Chris, Terry and Margo had been working since Denise had left this morning. They'd outlined three different songs, but nothing was coming together for them. Gina and Grace had been trying to contribute, but they just didn't have any talent for this kind of work. It was closing in on noon when Grace had asked if anyone would mind if she went to lunch with her tech-friend, Rick. They all agreed that it would be fine for her to go, so Gina and Grace went to Gracie's closet to pick out the right dress.

Just as they returned to the common area of the suite, there was a knock on the door. "That'll be Rick!" Gracie giggled as she stared to the door.

Gina stopped her and said, "No, no. You'll look to anxious. You wait here. I'll let him in."

Gina disappeared towards the door and the others heard her speaking to someone - it wasn't Rick. After a moment or too, a very serious John Holden appeared with Gina.

"Hi, girls," he said. "Umm, Christine, umm, can I talk to you for a few minutes?"

Chris was a bit stunned by John's presence. He'd thought that Mr Bennett would deal with him.

Terry stood, "Hi, John. Why don't you have a seat and talk to all of us. We all discussed this situation and we think it's in your best interest to do things the way we discussed with Allan."

John rubbed the back of his neck, shrugged and sat on the end of the sectional sofa.

After a few minutes of silence, John finally spoke, "Did I do something to offend you, Christine? I mean, when my producer suggested this boyfriend/girlfriend thing, I thought it was a great idea. Did I just spring it on you too suddenly the other night or something? What did I do? Whatever it was, I'm sorry."

Margo looked at Terry and they silently exchanged the message, 'He doesn't know!'

"Well, John," Chris started, "I'm sorry. You... well, you seem like a real nice guy and I liked what I heard at the Student Union, but... you see... it's just that..."

"John," Grace jumped in, "how old are you?"

"24. Why?"

"Well, you see, our little girl here is only 17. Until a few weeks ago, she was a junior in high school. We were afraid that, if that were to come out, it would look a little weird for you."

John looked at Chris and Terry, "17? Aren't you two twins? I saw one of you around the college, didn't I? I'm a little confused."

Terry shrugged, "I skipped a grade and Chrissy stayed back once because she was in the hospital so much, but...yeah... I'm, well, we're, only 17."

"Wow," John said as he nodded. "Wow. I guess you're right. That could be a problem, I guess. 17? Seriously? Ok. I get it. So, whose idea was this alternate script?"

"Mine," said Chris. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't," John smiled. "This is just all so new, you know what I mean? I don't really know where I stand with these people and I'm really scared that nothing's going to click with my album. All I hear from the big-wigs is criticism and Allan keeps telling me how great you guys are. Then, the other night, when I heard you guys play... I mean, Lord almighty! I can't compete with you. I figured that I might be able to, maybe, hitch my wagon to you and get a foot up, or something."

The girls and Chris all looked at each other. Being told how great they are is great and all, but it was still a new and awkward experience. They all had the same thought, 'Are we really THAT good?'

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Gina, again, went to get it. When she returned, Rick was with her. As he entered the room, his smile faded as he looked around at all the serious faces.

"What's wrong? Did someone die?" He asked.

Grace came over and gave him a welcoming hug. "No, just doing some business" Then she whispered, "Babe, would you mind if another couple joined us for lunch?"

"No, of course not."

Grace kissed his cheek, "Thank you." Then she turned to Gina and said, Gina, go put on something nice." She nodded in John's direction indicating why.

Gina took the hint and nodded, then said to John, "Umm, John. Tell you what. Give me two seconds to change and then, why don't you and I join Grace and Rick for lunch, ok? That way, we can get to know each other better and we can leave the three of them to finish their work. What do you say?"

John looked at her, the nodded. "Ok, Gina. I guess we're Nashville's newest couple, so... yeah, let's get some lunch." As Gina ran to her bedroom to change, John smiled at Chris. "Please come up with something great? I need your help."

Chris nodded, "Ok. I'll do my best," and went back to work.
 
Chapter 3
 

"Damn it all, Chris," Allan shouted in fake anger, "you can't keep doing this to me. I need a day off, for chrissake. Have you talked to John, yet?"

Terry answered, while Chris organized the mess of paper and electronics on the coffee table. "He came by earlier, but ended up going out to lunch with Gina, Grace and that techie from the studio, Rick. We haven't seen them since around noon."

Allan glanced at his watch. It was nearly 6:30. "Well, that's a good sign, I guess. He didn't take the change of plan very well when I spoke to him."

Margo joined the conversation, "No, he was upset when he got here, too. Funny, though, he didn't seem to think that Chris was a guy. We kind of thought he knew."

"Yeah, I got that impression, too," said Allan with a sigh. "So, there's one bullet dodged, I guess."

"That student union performance was a weird night," Terry pointed out. "Just having Evan in the audience probably freaked him out to the point that he didn't realize what we'd said to him. Besides, how could anyone think that this pretty little thing is anything but 100% girl."

Chris blushed and had an off color come back for her remark, but was too shy to say it in front of Mr. Bennett. "I'm glad you like the song, Mr Bennett. We really struggled with it. It was the sixth attempt and we rewrote it, like, fifteen times before we recorded it for you."

"I do like the song, but I hate the title. Too long. 'Broken Promises Can't Break My Heart' is the kind of long-winded country music title that comedians love to make fun of. Maybe we'll go with 'Broken Promises' or use a subtitle. Who cares, the song kicks butt and we're gonna just keep getting richer and richer and richer." He pulled Chris into a hug, kissed him on the crown of his head and said, "My golden goose."

As he sat with his arm around Chris's shoulders, he said, "Its getting late. Can I buy you girls supper downstairs?"

Margo and Terry glanced at each other and nodded, then answered, "Sure," simultaneously.

"I can't," said Chris. "I have a date for supper."

Everyone stared in silence for a moment.

"A date!?" Margo spate with a bit more vehemence than she'd expected. "With who!?"

Chris smiled, "Uncle Willy. He's picking me up at 7:15. We're going to a graduation party for his daughter."

Allan laughed, "Whew! I thought that there was trouble in paradise, already! Which daughter?"

Chris shrugged, "I think her name is Jojo. I didn't know he had more than one daughter."

"He has four daughters, one son and God knows how many nephews and nieces that he takes care of. Willie is quite a guy. He thrives on making order out of chaos. He pulled himself up from nothing then helped everyone else around him. I wouldn't be where I am with out Uncle Willy. Where' the party?"

"His place, I think," Chris said as he zipped the guitar back into its case.

Allan checked his watch, again, "Ok, then. Why don't you all get cleaned up and we'll all go downstairs together."

The girls put on fresh dresses and make up, brushed out their hair and checked their look in the mirrors. Chris did the same, but his dress was a little prettier, a dark blue, silk, slip dress with small white flowers printed on the soft, smocked material that flowed daintily from the spaghetti straps and V-neck to the pretty hem that lingered on his upper thigh. His hair was, once again, done up like Terry's, but with a dark blue head band to match the dress. His shoes were pretty, white, strappy sandals with thin, little kitten heels that pushed his burgeoning rear-end and new breasts out just enough to enhance the relaxed hang of the dress.

Terry looked at her twin brother and smiled. How could she have not seen this beautiful young woman who had been hiding inside her dorky little brother all these years. She came up behind him and hugged him around his waist, placed her head on his shoulder so she could see both of their faces in the mirror. "I have such a pretty sister."

Chris grinned said, "Not as pretty as mine."

"This is a pretty dress. When did you get this!"

"The other night, Margo and I went shopping."

Terry rubbed her hands over the soft silk of the dress, "It's very soft. I bet it feels nice, doesn't it?"

"It does. I like to feel pretty, now. That's ok, isn't it?"

"Well, of course it is, Sissy. Girls love to feel pretty."

Chris smiled.

"If I could suggest something, though..."

"Sure," said Chris.

"You're doing your eyes a little too dark. Sit on the bed for a moment."

Chris did as instructed, tucking the silky, short dress under his rear end as he sat. "I don't need to wear stockings with this dress, do I? It's kind of hot out and I don't want to be uncomfortable."

Terry used a pre-moistened make-up-wipe to gently wipe away the work that Chris had done. "You look lovely, just the way you are. Besides, that dress is so soft, you wouldn't want to put anything between your skin and that fabric. Now, I'm going to lighten up a little on your eye lids and get a little more curl on your lashes using an eye-lash curler."

It took about three minutes and, when Chris looked into the mirror, his eyes looked perfect. Much more subtle than before. "Wow," he whispered, "I didn't think I could look more like you than I did, but... wow! Thanks, Sissy."

"My pleasure, baby. Let's go."
 
Chapter 4
 

Chris had seen some nice houses as he had ridden through wealthy neighborhoods in New Jersey, but Willy's house was something very special. Not a mansion, by any means, but a grand, old, white farm house with four columns out in front and surrounding fields with horses meandering behind beautifully maintained fences. Chris could see at lease three other houses that were obviously connected to the property and the long, semi-circular driveway was filled with limousines and town cars.

His driver this evening was Willy's son, Eli, who had Willy's sweet smile and laugh, but was taller, broader, more slender, somewhat muscular and his dark skin and shaved head made him look like a movie star. He seemed to love music, too, although he did not have the encyclopedic knowledge of bands and singers that his father had.

"Your house is gorgeous!" Chris gushed as Eli helped him from the 'shot-gun' seat. Eli had tried mightily to get Chris to sit in the back, but the precocious little girl would not hear of it. She sat up front and talked nonstop all the way to the farm - mostly about music, but also about the city and surrounding areas which were still new to her - and, of course, Eli's father.

Eli smiled as he gently shut the car door. "It is isn't it? Actually, I just had a house built for my fiancée and me out there beyond the red barn." He pointed towards the red, evening sky and, when he looked, Chris could see the outline of a moderately sized house. He congratulated Eli as they approached the door.

Chris looked at the stately home and all the limousines and town cars and stopped before allowing Eli to open the door. "Umm, Eli, your dad said that this was just a nice family get together to celebrate your sister's graduation, but... this house is so pretty and there are all these limos... am I under dressed?

Eli laughed, "Are you kidding? If any thing, you're over dressed - wait - I mean, no, you look beautiful. You know my dad owns several businesses - a car dealership, a couple of men's clothing stores and a movie theater, but he also owns a limousine company. Hence the limousines."

Chris rolled his eyes, "Duh. I should have known. Sorry, I'm just not used to being around rich people, you know?"

Eli laughed, not just because of the 'rich people' remark, but because, just for a moment when she rolled her eyes and said 'duh,' this woman on his arm had revealed herself to really be an insecure little teenaged girl. Just a little girl in grown up clothes - just like she was at the dinner the other night. It it seemed to make her more endearing, somehow.

Chris, who'd grown up in a small family of quiet people, one that had had an fairly large, but quiet extended family of friends that had all disappeared after his dad had died. When they entered Willy's house, they entered a world of noise, food smells and love that he'd never experienced before. There were people of every imaginable age, body shape and skin color all laughing, hugging, cooking, eating, pouring wine, kissing each other's cheeks, back slapping... it was amazing, joyous and overwhelming.

Eli stopped for a moment to let Chris take it all in. There she was again, that little girl in the grown-up clothes. He spotted his dad across the room and waved to him to come and introduce Chris to everyone.

Willy approached with a huge grin, "There's my favorite little songbird! Come give your Uncle Willy a hug." He pulled Chris into a huge, warm embrace, even more loving than his usual hugs. He gave Chris a soft kiss on the forehead and said, "Thank you for coming, baby girl. It means the world to me to have you meet my family."

Chris's amazed smiled turned into a laugh, "This is just your family!? There's hundreds of people here."

"Yup and they're all family and so are you, now, darling."

"Thanks, Uncle Willy, and thank you for inviting me. I'm very happy to be here."

"Everyone!!" Willy shouted over the noise and he waited for their attention. "I want to introduce you all to the newest member of our family. This is the amazing singer I've been telling you all about. Her name is Chrissie and she's going to be a huge star in a few weeks so get her autograph tonight while you can!"

There was laughter all around.

"I'm not kidding and y'all be sorry six weeks from now when she's a star."

More laughter.

"So, as I said, this is my newest little niece and I want y'all to make her feel welcome."

Immediately, Chris was overwhelmed with hugs and kisses and so many introductions that he couldn't possible remember who was who. Everyone was gracious and smiling.

Suddenly, from out of the chaos of affection, a beautifully tall and dark woman grabbed Chris and drew him to her for a hug. "Are you Chrissy," she mewed as she hugged him and swayed from side to side. "Oh, darling, my Willy has told me so much about you. Come join me in the kitchen and let me get to know you."

Chris was whisked away into a huge kitchen, which, being an older house, was separated from the main rooms, but was very spacious and there were at least a dozen women in various colored and embroidered aprons working at three different stoves and all around the counter tops.

The woman who had kidnapped Chris grabbed an apron from the back of a chair and, as she started speaking, she deftly pulled the garment over her head and pulled the broad pieces of cloth behind her back to tie it around her waist.

"It is Chrissie, isn't it?"

"Yes ma'am." Chris replied, looking around.

"I'm Sophie," she had the warmest smile. "I'm Willy's wife." Having said that, Sophie dug her hands into a huge mixing bowl filled with chicken parts and began mixing them into a batter. Chris, who's mom was at work till 6:00 every night, had never seen the kind of effort that was going on around him at the moment and, stranger still, everyone seemed thrilled to be preparing the meal. Cooking was viewed as an inconvenient necessity at home and usually involve a microwave or a call to a restaurant that delivers.

Chris shook his attention away from the food preparation and brought his eyes up to meet Sophie's. "Oh! Hi! Yes, I'm Chrissie. Oh, ma'am, thank you so much for having me tonight. You're home is just beautiful."

Sophie laughed. "Why, thank you, sugar. Aren't you a polite little girl! No wonder Willy is so taken with you."

Chris smiled. "Thank you, ma'am. I'm pretty taken with Uncle Willy, too."

Sophie stopped mixing for a moment and placed a batter-covered hand on her aproned hip. "Uncle Willy!? Huh! I guess that makes me your Auntie Sophie, then, doesn't it." Some of the nearby woman laughed along with Sophie. "Ladies, this is my new little niece, Chrissie."

"Hi, Chrissie." "Hi, darling." "Hi, baby." Etc came from all parts of the kitchen.

The wonder at all of this activity was evident on Chris's face. One of the ladies asked, "Would you like to help, darling?"

Chris shrugged, "I would love to, but I don't know how to cook."

More remarks came from all corners, but each was said simultaneously and with laughter, so Chris could only make out what Sophie was saying. "What!? Your mama never taught you to cook!? Why on earth not!? You'll never get a GOOD man without being able to cook!"

"No, ma'am. She works late, so she doesn't cook much."

"Well, would you like to learn a little about making some chicken right now?"

"Oh, yes! I'd love that!"

"Well, alright, then! Judy," she yelled across the kitchen, "open that closet and throw us an apron for this angel, will you, please?"

Before Chris had a chance to figure out who Judy was, a bid apron was launched towards Sophie. She caught it and, before he knew it, he was wearing a pale yellow apron with small flowers embroidered all around the bib and skirt.

"Come here, now, baby, and watch how I do this. Now, I don't want you to get all covered in batter, so I'll take care of that tonight, but I'll show you how to fry it up, ok? We have to keep an eye on the temperature of the oil so it doesn't spoil. We use the tongs to place, never drop, the chicken into the pan and keep each piece separated..."

The lesson went on from there and a half an hour later, when Willy entered into the kitchen with a young woman, who looked remarkably similar to Sophie, in tow, he was just in time to hear Chris call across the room, "Auntie Sophie, I'm ready for more chicken to be battered."

Sophie came over to check the chicken that had already been through the frying pan. As she pursued the cooked pieces, she gently rubbed Chris's bare shoulders and smiled as she said, "Sugar, you have found your true talent. You need to come spend some time with your Auntie Sophie and learn how to really cook, so when you have your babies it'll be fun and easy, rather than a struggle."

Chris smiled, genuinely happy to have done a good job.

"Good God Almighty, woman! What are you doing!? I bring you the most talented child I have ever met and you have her working at the stove! I brought her here as a guest and you put her to work!"

Sophie smiled at her husband's pretend shock. She did this with every girl that entered her kitchen and Willy knew it. "Oh, hush, you old grouch. You brought her here as a member of the family and this is what the women in our family do - we cook together." She hugged the young woman with Willy and said, "There's my graduate! Oh, my baby is all grown up and going to college in a couple of months. I can't believe it."

She turned to Chris and said, "Christine, this is your new cousin, Josephine, but we just call her Jojo."

The young woman smiled and extended her hand saying, "Or Jo, or Joey. Whatever you want. I'm so happy to meet you. Daddy just goes on and on about you."

Chris shook Jo's hand saying, "Congratulations on your graduation, Jo. Your daddy goes on and on about you, too. Oh, just a second," Chris ran to his purse which he'd left on a nearby chair, opened it and pulled out an envelope which obviously contained a card. He handed it to Jo saying, "This is for you."

"I told you that you shouldn't bring anything, remember?" Said Willy in a his fake-scolding voice.

"Oh, my goodness!" Josephine let put. "This is a $500 Amazon gift card!"

"I didn't know what you might need for college, so..."

Willy smiled and shook his head. "Sophie, I'm telling you, we need to teach this child to handle money. She just gives it away to people. She has no idea what the value of a dollar is!"

"Huh," Sophie joked, "she must really be related to you, then." She untied Chris's apron and gave him a somewhat shocking, but obviously meant to be familial, pat on his bottom. "Now, you go get to know Josephine and come back to visit me and I'll teach you to be a great cook, ok?"

Chris kissed Sophie's cheek and smiled broadly. "Thank you, Auntie Sophie. I will if I can. I loved cooking with you."

Jo took Chris out to a back deck where there were twenty or more teenagers sitting and drinking Cokes and laughing. The sky had gone dark and there were stars twinkling everywhere - something else he'd not seen a lot of, growing up in New Jersey.

Chris had never done well in crowds of his peers, but he'd been having a great time this evening, so he'd continue keeping a good attitude and see where things went.

The evening breeze was picking up a bit and Chris could feel it threatening to blow the lightweight silk dress up with each gentle gust.

Jojo introduced Chris to cousins, friends and classmates. Everyone was smiling and laughing and Chris felt relaxed for the first time in weeks... maybe months or years.

One groups of kids were laughing at pictures in Josephine's year book.

"Joey, was that from the semi formal last year? Oh, my God, Jake Reynolds looks wasted!"

Jojo went to look over the shoulder of the girl who'd asked the question. "No, that's from home coming and he'd been out in the sun all day. He wasn't wasted, just sunburned and tired."

They all laughed. Jojo invited Chris over to sit on the bench behind this group. He and Jojo looked over their shoulders at the pictures and the comments left by friends. It was a very new experience for Chris.
 
Chapter 5
 

The meal had been excellent. Allan had taken Terry and Margo to a little, three star, whole in the wall a block away from the hotel. Neither of the girls had ever had food this good before.

"She really just uses us to bounce ideas off of. Usually lyrics," Margo was explaining.

Terry said, "I think that she's just developing a style and she needs us to agree with her or shake our heads. It's just new to her and he's unsure of herself."

"I think part of it is just fear of loneliness, too," Margo sipped her coffee.

"There's definitely that, too," Terry agreed. "I guess I'd feel that way, too, if I spent as much time alone in hospitals when I was young. I wish I'd been more thoughtful back then. Part of me just thought that he was being sick just to get attention. What an ass, huh!?"

Allan squeezed her hand on the table and said, "You were a kid, too. You take good care of her, now, though. I see how he idolizes you. And YOU," he said to Margo, "he's head over heals in love with you. That's going to be tricky later, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Margo looked at her coffee for a moment, deep inn thought, then said, "Allan... what if we don't make it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, haven't you ever been wrong before? About a band, I mean?"

Allan shifted in his seat and thought for a moment. "I guess, I have, sure, but I see so much potential in you girls... it's going to happen. I'm sure of it."

"Ok, I believe you," Margo put down her glass, "but, just in case, will you make me a promise?"

Allan sat up tall and leaned onto the table. "Sure. Why not? I have nothing but good feelings about you girls."

Margo smiled, very happy that he liked the band. "If things go badly for the album, I'd like you to consider firing all of us except for Chris."

Terry sat up straighter, now.

"What?" Allan asked. "We wouldn't even consider dropping a contract until a second album flopped, and, like I said..."

"I know, but..." Margo searched for the right words. "... you said it yourself. Chris is miles ahead of us as a musician, so if we tank this, it's because we're holding him back. If that's the case, then fire us and keep Chris. It's the only way he'd ever go solo."

"To tell you the truth," Allan said, "I think he'd quit if you and Terry weren't with him, anyway. I know he likes Gina and Grace, but, come on. You girls must see it. You two are his world!" He shook his head, "Her world, damn it. It's like there's two of her: the sad little boy willing to wear a dress just to be with his big sister and her friend and the amazing female musician on the brink of stardom. "

"Wow," Terry sank back into her seat. "I'm not sure how I should feel about that. You don't need us tomorrow, do you Allan?"

"Just Gina for four or five hours. Why?"

"I think my little sister and I need a girls day out, tomorrow."

Margo finished her coffee, "After that, do you think I might be able to steal her for a date? A real, dinner-and-a-movie kind of date?"

"I think that would be perfect," Terry said and she thought about everything that they'd just discussed. Something was nagging at her. Had she forced this on her brother or was her brother really happier as her sister? She didn't know the answer.
 
Chapter 6
 

Most of the guests had left. It was just Jo, Chris, a girl from Jo's school and a boy cousin left on the porch. Chris had had a wonderful evening just being a normal teenager with these kids. They treated him like any other girl. He loved it. He'd talked about music and clothing and even some chatting with and about boys. He really didn't feel attracted to boys, but his new found interest in beauty made him more aware of everything around him - even boys, but mostly girls.

One of Willy's three grandchildren had come out onto the porch to join them earlier in the evening, too. Her name was Emma. Two and a half years old, dark skinned with her hair in tight braids along her scalp. Chris had told Emma how pretty her hair was. Emma, in turn had climbed onto the cushioned bench on which he sat to touch Chris's hair. At some point, while Chris was talking to a group of kids, Emma had crawled onto Chris's lap and, eventually, fell asleep in his arms with her head nestled on his shoulder and new, firm breasts. No child had even said hello to Chris before, let alone fallen asleep in his arms. He didn't know why, but it moved him and he didn't want it to end. He held the child close to him and cooed and sang softly as she slept.

Chris wasn't sure what the boy-cousin's real name was, everyone just called him 'Bucky.' Bucky had gone inside to grab another Coke when Jo's friend, Lola, sat down next to Chris. She was very pretty and wore a very lacy top that allowed glimpses of her bra beneath. Chris didn't want to date her or anything, but he did find her beautiful.

Chris had taken off his shoes hours ago and Lola picked up the left one and looked at it. "Chrissie, right?"

Chris nodded and continued cooing to Emma.

"What do your parents do for work? Doctors? Lawyers?"

He spoke softly so as to not wake the child. "My dad passed away, but my mom works at an insurance company. She manages the payroll department. Why?"

"Because these shoes cost like $300. How can your mom afford them."

Jo joined them on the padded, porch bench. She sat to the other side of Chris putting him in the middle with the baby. He was pinned in and surrounded by girls and he felt comfortable and at home. Jo bent down and picked up Chris's right shoe.

Chris looked at the girls. He was amused by their fascination with his shoes and a bit titillated by their proximity to him. "My mom can't afford them. I bought them, myself."

"How?" Lola said, looking at him a bit sideways.

"Lola," Josephine interrupted, "you know it's rude to ask a question like that, but, since you've asked... Chrissie, would you mind if I explained?"

Chris smiled and shrugged a 'if you'd like to, go ahead' look at Jojo. Strangely, throughout the evening, Chris had grown very friendly with this feminine clone of Willy. She was smart as a whip and very funny. Like her parents, she embraced everything and everyone around her. No one ever felt left out.

"You see, Lola," Jojo was being broad and expressive, but remaining quiet for the benefit of her niece, "these shoes belong to the next Taylor Swift."

"Oh?" Lola giggled. "The next Taylor Swift?"

"Or bigger, according to my dad. He says that she's a better song writer than Dolly Parton and has a bigger voice than Linda Runstat, whoever that is."

Chris laughed quietly. "Linda Ronstadt. She's a singer."

"Yeah, I figured," Jojo laughed. "Anyway, according to daddy, a year from now, this little girl will be worth millions."

Jojo laughed at her own words, while Chris smiled and continued to hum to Emma, who chose that moment to snuggle deeper into his bosom.

Lola, still inspecting the shoe, gave Chris another sideways glance. "Truth?"

Chris shrugged, "Maybe. We recorded an album and everyone seems excited, but, now that it's done, I'm not so sure. Right now, I'm just a high school dropout."

Jojo took off her right flip-flop and slipped her foot into Chris's shoe. She stood and looked at her foot. "They're pretty, alright, but $200? I don't know about that? My dad would kill me."

Now, Lola laughed, "YOUR dad would buy you two pairs as long as you were happy."

"Naw. He says that fancy shoes and stuff are a distraction. Family always comes first."

Lola nodded and handed Jojo the other shoe. She tried that one on, too.

Lola leaned back, "Sounds like my grandma. She's always saying 'family first,' too. I guess they're right."

Jojo walked the length of the deck in Chris's shoes, swaying her hips like a runway model, causing Chris and Lola to laugh. As she was returning, the sliding glass door opened and Bucky came back to the porch.

"Well, what do you think?" Jojo asked him.

"About what?" asked Bucky, confused by the question.

"About the shoes, doofus." Jojo gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. "Aren't they pretty?"

Bucky shrugged, "Yeah, I guess."

Chris and Lola giggled as Jojo made faces at her cousin. "Yeah, I guess!?!? Boys!"

Bucky smiled, still confused. "Ok. Haha. Anyway, your mama told me to come get y'all. Uncle Willy says he'll drive Christine home now."

Lola stood and helped Chris up. They were careful not to wake Emma, who, with the slight jostling, moved her thumb to her mouth. Chris slipped his feet into Jojo's flop-flops and headed to the house.

"Wait," said Jojo as she bent to undo the straps.

"No," Chris whispered, "you keep them, but don't let Uncle Willy find out."

Jojo was shocked and she smiled and bounced while whispering, "Thank you!"

They went into the house where there were just a few guests helping in the kitchen. Sophie looked up, seeing little Emma sleeping on Chris and smiled. "Oh, someone's all tuckered out. Here, darling, I'll take her from you."

Reluctantly, Chris kissed the child on the head and handed her to her grandmother. Warmth and the feeling of longing that the child left behind was shocking to Chris. He'd become so attached to her in just a couple of hours. He'd never even held a child before and, now, he was enamored with the idea of caring for them. He wanted her back, but instead, he just rubbed her diapered rump as he grandmother took over the cooing and rocking.

"Thank you so much for coming, baby," Sophie spoke quietly. "I hope you'll be back. I know that you'll be busy soon, but you can come back any time."

Chris hugged Sophie, being careful of little Emma. "Thank you, Auntie. I had such a wonderful time. You're home is so wonderful. Thank you for everything."

Sophie kissed his cheek. "You're welcome, angel, and you're always welcome here."

They found Willy in the front room. He was dressed more casually than Chris had ever seen him. A white polo shirt and tan shorts. He looked so happy after an evening with family and friends.

"Ready to go, darling?" He asked, his business persona gone and his drawl more obvious than ever. His smile made it clear that he had had a wonderful evening.

"Uncle Willy," Chris said, "how about I call a Uber tonight?"

"AN UBER!? Not on your life, little girl. Not on your life." Willy put his harm around Chris's shoulders protectively. "You'll be riding in style from here on out, baby doll. Let's get you home, though. It's getting late."
 
Chapter 7
 

"Chrissie, sweetheart," Terry shook him gently awake. "Come on, honey. Denise will be here in a few minutes. Then, I have a day planned for us."

Chris grumbled a bit as he sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed, his knee length, silky nightie riding up to his upper thigh. It had been a short night. He got home around 1:00 that morning, but he had a hard time falling asleep. He had laid in bed and thought about everything that had happened the night before. The loving and accepting people. The cooking - he'd enjoyed that so very much. The teenagers - people his age who liked him. Nobody liked Chris, but they all seemed to like Chrissie. Was he that much different, now? Then there was Emma. He'd never held a baby before and it was so wonderful. He loved holding her so much. He'd never even thought about being a father before; now, more than almost anything, he wanted to me a mom. Up to last night, Chris had only really been thinking about the band. Now he saw what might be possible if they were successful enough to have homes and families. That's what he really wanted. That seemed so wonderful. Terry and the girls had done a good job of teaching him to be a girl, but, now, he wanted - no, he needed - to get back to Auntie Sophie to learn how to be a woman so he could have a happy family.

He pulled off his nightie and panties. Put on a clean gaff and panties, a pair of light grey, yoga pants and an exercise top with a built in shelf - what an awful term for an ugly excuse for a bra.

He pulled out his hair tie and ran a brush through his hair before joining the girls in the common area, just as Denise came in. The workout was brutal, but Chris had noticed that, lately, his shape was rounding out just a bit. Maybe it was the workouts or maybe it was the light dosage of hormones he was on, but he definitely had more of a rear end than he'd had a few months ago,

When Denise left, Terry said, "Put on this sundress, Sissy. You and I are going out for a sisters' day of a message, a mani-pedi and some therapeutic shopping what do you say?"

Chris smiled, "Sounds perfect!"

As if by some strange coincidence, when Chris emerged from the bedroom in the pretty, blue sundress that Terry had given him, Terry was wearing an identical dress. Terry helped his with his hair and makeup and when Terry stepped out of the elevator in the lobby, she was followed by a nearly identical, just the tiniest bit smaller, twin.

Rather than breakfast at the hotel, they crossed the street to a trendy, independent coffee shop where they sat down with their lattes and fruit salads to enjoy a relaxed breakfast, it was just 8:00am and they didn't need to be at the spa for an hour and a half.

"So," Terry asked through a swallow of her latte, "did you have a good time last night?"

Chris nodded as he wiped some sticky melon residue from his lips. "It was wonderful. Willy's house is beautiful and his family were all so nice to me!" He went on to give Terry a review of the events of the previous night. Concentrating on the cooking and the baby and just being accepted, rather than struggling to fit in.

That gave Terry pause. She thought for a moment, then said, "Chris... I need to talk to you about some stuff. Can we be honest with each other?"

He nodded, concerned and confused by the seriousness of her tone.

"When we asked you to do this, had you ever thought about wearing a dress, or of being a girl?"

He shook his head and played with his napkin a bit. "Why?"

Terry grimaced and looked around the restaurant before continuing. Maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut, but, after their talk with Allan last night, she needed to say some things.

"I don't know," she continued, "it's just that, well, it's just that, now that the recording sessions are pretty much done, I've been thinking and I wonder if you'll be happy this way. As a girl, I mean. Forever."

Chris felt a wash of nervousness flood over him. He'd been so comfortable last night, but, now, it seemed like Terry was about to call him out for being a freak or something. "I guess..." he started. "Why? Do you think I'm doing something wrong? I mean, I originally did this just to play with you and Margo, but... I really like it, you know? I like the clothes. The warmth of being with you guys. The feeling of being pretty. I like being a girl."

"You don't miss the old Chris?"

"I HATE the old Chris. I was alone and sad all the time. I never want to be the old Chris again!"

That broke Terry's heart. Had she been so insensitive to her brother? "I'm sorry Chris. I didn't know."

He nodded and wiped a tear from his cheek.

"What about girls - or boys. Will you... you know... go all the way, eventually, and have it... have the operation down below?"

"No!" Chris said with alarm. "I like girls - Margo. I... I want to keep that, but... well, after last night with little Emma... I kind of want to be a mom, too. Weird, huh?"

Terry shook her head and took both of Chris's hands in hers, "Oh, no, no, no, baby, I'm not saying that at all. Honestly, I understand, I do. The first time I baby-sat for someone, I felt the same way. It's different for a girl than it is for a guy and, I suppose, you're starting to think of yourself as a girl. That's probably a good thing, considering."

Chris nodded his head and thought for a moment. "You know, when we were in classes together, we hung out and played together and I liked that. Later, though, when you skipped a grade... I missed you. Then, when I had to redo seventh grade... I never really had any friends after that. I've was lonely for a really long time..."

"Oh, Chris. I'm so sorry. I didn't think..."

"No, wait. I don't blame you or anything, but... I was lonely for so long that I was used to it, you know what I mean. It was the way things were. Now, I'm not. I think I found 'me' when I became Chrissie and I'm not lonely and I'm a lot happier."

Now, Terry wiped a tear from her eye.

"Last night, with Uncle Willy's family," that made Terry smile. She didn't have the same relationship with Willy as did Chris, but she loved that there was an 'uncle' in Chris's life. "I felt at ease and happy. I didn't feel like lonely old Chris and I didn't feel like the person in charge of the band. I felt... like me. I loved talking to the girls. I loved learning how to cook. I adored holding that baby. That's who I want to be. I want to be me and I want to be with you and the girls. Right now, without the band and without being Chrissie, I'm just a high-school-dropout with no friends."

"Wow, that surely answered some concerns of mine," Terry smiled and leaned across to kiss her pretty, little brother's cheek. "We need to finish up and get to the spa. It's just a couple of blocks away. We can walk."

The massage was glorious. They laid on the message tables, which were next to each other, and all the stress and tension of the recording sessions was rubbed away in the course of an hour and a half. Then, they donned robes and were escorted into reclining chairs for their mani/pedis.

Neither had ever experienced a message before, so they were like limp rags in the recliners. Terry had had mani/pedis at the mall with her mom before and Chris had had a very hasty procedure done the day of his transformation, but this was different. This treatment was designed to be enjoyed. It was slow and luxurious and they felt like princesses as they were pampered and they loved it.

At 1:30, they had a light salad in the spa's restaurant, then headed out to do some shopping. Terry had a date that evening with Mark and she wanted to get something pretty to wear for him. They hailed a cab and headed to a boutique that one of the girls who worked at the studio had told Terry about.

It was a small, but elegant shop with very few items in the store.

"Well, this is disappointing," Terry whispered as they entered. "We may need to go to the mall."

Chris nodded in agreement.

A well dressed, thirty-something woman with a plastered-on smile emerged from the back room. When she saw Terry and Chris, her smile wavered a bit. When she spoke, her tone was dismissive. "May I help you, girls?"

"Hi," Terry smiled. "I'm looking for a dress and a coworker recommended your store."

"Uh huh," the woman said slowly. "What, EXACTLY, are you looking for?"

"Umm, well... I'm not sure. I have a date tonight and I..."

"Do you have a price range?" The woman interrupted.

"... well," Terry was a bit stunned by the interruption. "No. I hadn't considered a price range, but I'm looking for..."

"Perhaps you should try the Aeropostale store at the mall, then, girls." She turned on her most smug expression and started to walk away.

Chris, who had done more high end shopping than Terry, said, "Excuse me, ma'am, if you wouldn't mind, could you please run a credit check on this card for, say, $15,000.00 dollars to see if our money is good here?"

He held the card out with a coquettish smile while she eyed it suspiciously. Finally, she took the card and ran it through the machine to check for an available balance. As the result of the credit check appeared on her screen, her sneer transformed to a thin, condescending smile, she said, "Thank you, miss. Now, what can I show you young ladies?"

Chris put his card back into his purse and smiled at Terry.

"Well, I'm not 100% sure what I'd like. I have a date at a nice restaurant tonight and I'm looking for something a bit more sophisticated than I usually wear without being stuffy, you know? I was thinking of a little black dress kind of thing. Do you have anything like that?" Terry said with new found confidence.

"I'm sure we do, miss. What size?"

"4 please."

"I'll be right back."

When she'd left, Terry and Chris giggled at her attitude. "Yes, miss. Yes, miss" she whispered an imitation of the saleswoman. "Aren't you the brave thing? I was ready to leave."

Chris laughed. He'd already gone through a similar, although not quite as insulting, experience that night that he and Margo had gone shopping. "They only respect a platinum card," he whispered back. "Even if the first dress is perfect, make her work a little for the sale."

At that moment, the woman returned with four black dresses on hangers. Terry and Chris smiled at her and took the seats the woman offered as she began her sales pitch. "Each of these are limited run, designer dresses. This first one is from a small company in Italy. The specialize in clothing for younger women such as yourself..."

Two hours later, they emerged from the boutique with one dress bag, a shoe box with a new pair of open-toed pumps and a small bag of underthings. They were elated with the perfect little dress that Terry had chosen and the fun they'd had running the annoying saleswoman through her paces. All in all, it could not have been a more successful shopping excursion for the two sisters.
 
Chapter 8
 

It was 4:45 when they entered the lobby of their hotel; Terry carrying the garment bag with the dress and Chris carrying the bag of undies and the box of new shoes.

"Howdy, ladies" was called from the elevator banks and the twins looked up to see John holden and Rick, Grace's techie friend. Both were dressed in sharp suits and pricy cowboy hats. It was Rick who had called out to them. As they approached, both young men removed their hats, held them to their chests and bowed deeply.

Terry giggled while Chris gave a bit of a curtesy in response.

"Even'ing, fellas," Terry said using her best saloon-maid affectation. "You boys looking to rustle up some fillies tonight?"

"We sure are ma'am," smiled John, who's cowboy accent still sounded more like New Jersey than anywhere in the south.

"I take it, then, that the first video session went well?"

John smirked. "Very well, ma'am. Very well. She's a great girl."

Everyone smiled.

"We're going country dancing if y'all'ed like to join us." Ricks drawl was sweet and natural. He wasn't a great looking guy, but he had a sincere and infectious smile. It was easy to understand why a girl like Gracie would fall for him.

"Thanks for thinking of us, but I'm going to dinner with Mark." Terry said

"And how about you, young Miss Christine?" Rick bowed deeply. "We would be honored if you you'd join us tonight."

Chris smiled and curtsied again. "Why, thank you sir, but I believe that I will stay in this evening and recuperate from this long, hot and weary day."

The bell rang and the elevator doors opened. "As you wish, ma'am," grinned Rick as both he and John gave one more deep bow and used their Stetsons to sweep low and indicate that the twins should enter the elevator car.

They pushed the floor number and the car was soon headed up to their floor.

"I love the twin look you two are cultivating today," John teased. "Almost too much beautiful for a man to stand."

They laughed and blushed at his remark.

"Today was a twin-sister-day. We had a great time." She threw her arm around Chris and hugged him.

When they opened the door to the suite, Gina ran into John's arms and hugged him while planting a deep kiss on his lips. When the kiss broke, Gina smiled broadly, "Howdy, handsome."

"Hi, beautiful."

They kissed again and Gina grabbed her purse while yelling, in a most unladylike way, "Gracie! Rick and John are here! Move your arse!"

Grace appeared with a huge grin, fastening an earring in her left ear. "Classy thing, isn't she?" She said to the boys, Terry and Chris. "You can take the girl out of the drum kit, but you can't take the drum kit out of the girl."

Rick kissed Gracie's cheek. "Hi, darling. You look gorgeous." The kissed full on the lips.

"All set, girls?" John asked.

"Yup," said Gina, handing Grace her purse. "Let's go."

Grace gave both Chris and Terry pecks on their cheeks and whispered to Terry, "Don't wait up. I think we'll be out for a long time."

"Ok," Terry said with a giggle. "Be good. Love you."

Chris called as the door was closing, "Where's Margo?"

Gina leaned back in before the door closed and said, "Don't know. She's been gone most of the day. She said she had to run some errands." Then the door closed.

Terry looked at the time on her phone and said, "Oops. I need to get ready. Mark will be here in an hour." She ran to her bedroom to start getting changed, while Chris flopped onto the couch, legs folded beneath him, and started flipping through channels on the TV.

He was trying to enjoy a show about antiques pickers that he had enjoyed in the past, but he just couldn't. Home improvement shows seemed more interesting, but he was getting impatient. Something was nagging at him. Maybe it was connected to the idea of being alone tonight. He didn't like that idea, but he did need to get used to it. He had to grow up and be mature about this. He was going to have evenings by himself. That was inevitable. He took a breath and continued surfing channels till he found a rerun of 'Friends' and he settled on that.

Terry was busy in the bedroom. He could hear her getting ready and smell the curling iron and hairspray. When she came into the common area, she looked stunning. Her hair was perfect and her makeup was just so, so pretty. Chris envied her ability to primp, to get her hair perfect, to pick just the right shade of lipstick, to be a girl.

"Will you be ok here alone tonight?" Terry asked as her phone dinged indicating a text message. "Oops, I have to run. I told Mark to text me when he got here so that he didn't have to pay to park." She kissed Chris's cheek, then wiped off the residual lipstick. "Will you be ok?"

Chris nodded and smiled. "Yeah, sure. I'm fine. Thanks for such a great day. I really had a good time."

"Me too, Sissy. Gotta run," and she headed to the door, but, before she could open it, Margo burst in with half-a-dozen bags, garment bags and a big grin.

"Hi!" She said breathlessly. "Ooh, you look nice! Got a date?"

Terry kissed Margo's cheek and repeated the process of removing what was left behind. "Yeah. I gotta run." Then she whispered, "I'm glad you're here. I didn't say anything to Chrissie about your plans."

Margo smiled. "Great. I've made plans. I'm taking him out for a night on the town."

"Great! Gotta go. Love you!"

"Love you, too! Have a good time."

By the time Margo got to the couch to put down her burdens, Chris was up to help her.

"Wow!" He laughed. "Did you set out to buy everything in Nashville?"

"Nope. I just needed to do something non-band-related or I'd burst. So, I went shopping and I called Allan for some help. He got us reservations at a very exclusive dinner club for tonight."

"Tonight!" Chris said with glee, "but what should I wear? Is the dress I wore to the party the other night ok?"

"No, it is not ok, because, I bought you a present." Margo held out a garment bag while smiling broadly at he pretty boyfriend.

Chris pulled the zipper down to reveal a beautiful summer dress. It was primarily green, but had a print of large, white flowers (hydrangeas, he would later learn) and leaves.

"Wow. It's so pretty and so... festive!"

I know, right?" Grinned Margo. "Try it on!!"

Chris pulled his 'twin' dress over his head and, excitedly, stepped into Margo's gift. It fit perfectly. It had a fitted top with a smocked back that held the front, bustier-style bodice in place, as did the one-and-a-half-inch straps on his shoulders. The A-line skirt had many, casual pleats that allowed it to poof out from his natural hips. The hem had a ruffle that bounced and flounced with each exited step that he took.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it!" Chris shrieked girlishly. "It's so pretty."

"Whew!" Margo's faked concern amused Chris and he gave her a thank you hug and kiss. "It's a Dolce and Gabbana designer dress. The moment I saw it, I wanted to see you in it. It costs a pretty penny, but my girl deserves the very best!"

He leaned back in her hug and gave her a flirtatious grin, "Aww, you spoil me."

Margo took his shoulders and turned him towards his room, gave him a soft slap on the rear and said, "Go get ready, woman. I need to get pretty, too. Willie will be here to pick us up in an hour."

As he skipped to his room, enjoying the way his skirt moved, he smiled back to Margo, "Poor Uncle Willie. I feel bad having him just sitting and waiting while we eat. Can he join us?"

Margo laughed, "I offered. He said, 'no.' We're not just eating, we're dancing to a live band - not a line-dance band, but a real band that plays real dance music - like grown up music. Willie says he'll pick us up again at 11:30 so I can get Cinderella home before midnight."

"That's sweet," Chris called from his room.

"Yeah, 'sweet.' Originally, I said to pick us up at 1:00, but 'Sweet Uncle Willie' said that you're only seventeen and that you had been out late last night, so you needed to be in by midnight, tonight. So, 11:30 it is!"

Forty-five minutes later, when Margo came back into the common room, she found Chris spinning in circles, admiring the way the flowered, full skirt of his dress filled out with air when he spun. She gave a little giggle, but it was enough to catch Chris by surprise. He stopped quickly with a shy, embarrassed grin.

"Oops," he said, "I didn't know you were there. I was just..." he laughed.

Margo was very pleased with Chris's look. He'd used a large-barrel curling iron on his hair to give the back lots of fullness. The front was pulled back into a silver, metallic headband making the fluffy back looking even more attractive. His make up was simple, young and pretty with soft eyes and pretty, pink lips and he wore a small, silver medallion and a simple, silver chain on his wrist. It was all understated and perfect.

"That's ok, baby," Margo joined in his laughter. "Enjoy your dress. All little girls love to feel how their dresses swirl around them. You weren't able to enjoy it when you were little. Enjoy it, now."

As bright and playful as Chris's dress was, Margo's was a stretchy, lacy, knee-length, form hugging design that showed off every one of her soft, feminine curves. It was navy-blue, nearly black, with a top that covered her shoulders, plummeted to her cleavage and displayed her breasts beautifully. The skirt of the dress was tighter than any dress Chris's had ever seen her wear before and had a slit on the right leg, allowing her to be able to walk and showing the perfect curves of her lower body. Her shoes were tall-heeled and primarily comprised of small, shinny straps. Her toe nails, finger nails and lips were all painted the same shade of deep red and her earrings matched those perfectly.

In short, Margo was as perfect an image of womanhood as Chris was a perfect image of girlhood.

As they hugged, Chris whispered, "You're beautiful."

"You're adorable," Margo whispered back. "I never thought I'd be in love with such a pretty little boy."

He smiled as he snuggled into her shoulders. "I've loved you for years," Chris confessed. "Look at you. How could I not?"

They kissed and Margo's hands wandered from Chris's hips to his soft, yet firm, breasts. When she swept a finger below their round protrusion, he gave a quick and excited intake of breath. That encouraged Margo to be a bit more aggressive. Soon, Chris was so exited that his eyes rolled to the top of his head and his head rolled backwards offering his exposed neck and shoulders to Margo.

Suddenly, Margo pulled her head up and gave a frustrated sigh. "No, no. Not right now. We need to get going." She gave him one more deep kiss and caressed the back of his dress.

When they separated, she took in a deep breath as she turned to a mirror to check her makeup. When she finished, she turned to grab her clutch as Chris checked his lips.

She came up behind him and smiled as she watched him primp and prepare for her. 'How can I be this lucky?' she thought as her eyes wandered from his head to his feet.

When Chris turned away from the mirror she said, "Before we go, baby, why don't you put on your sandals? They'll look prettier with that dress."

Chris smiled, "Well, either I can wear these, or we can stop on the way for a new pair of sandals."

"What happened to the ones you bought the other day?"

"I traded them for a pair of Old Navy flip-flops." Chris's grin indicated that he found this very funny.

"What!? Those were expensive!"

"Yup, they were, but I can buy more. Let's go."
 
Chapter 9
 

The black limousine, Uncle Willie had insisted that, since this was a date, a limousine was required, pulled to the entrance of an elegant, yet understated - at least by Nashville standards - building with a green awning with gold trim and a green carpet beneath it. The doorman opened the rear passenger door and offered his hand to Margo, who took it and seemed to emerge from the car with the grace of a queen.

Willie opened the rear driver's side door and helped Chris out. He hugged him before letting him move on. "You get more and more beautiful every time I see you, young lady. How is that possible?"

Chris smiled, "I don't think it is, Uncle Willie. You're just a very sweet man who likes to say things that make me feel good. Thank you for stopping at the shoe store on the way. I appreciate it."

Willie laughed. "I'm betting that you needing shoes has something to do with Jojo having a new pair of expensive shoes. What do you think? Your Auntie Sophie suspected that they came from you."

Chris kissed the older man's cheek. His smile could not have been broader. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Willie smiled and shook his head. He looked to the sky, "Lord, what am I going to do with this child!?"

Then he smiled back at Chris and offered him his arm. When they reached Margo, she took Chris's arm and thanked Willie.

"You are very welcome, Ms Margo. Take good care of my favorite niece, now! I'll be back at 11:30 and I better not smell and alcohol, tobacco or marijuana on her her breath. You understand me?" His words were harsh, but his smile indicated that he was being funny.

"Don't worry, sir," Margo said as if she was a boy taking to the father of his prom date, "I'll get her home safe and sound."

Willie smiled and kissed both of his passengers on their soft cheeks. Then he pointed at Margo, "See to it. I'll be out here at 11:30. Don't make me come in there after you." He winked and went back to his limousine.

As they entered the dinner club, both realized that this was a very fancy place. "This looks pretty fancy," Chris whispered. "I don't see a any other people our age."

"There's a girl, over there. She can't be more than twenty-one."

"She's with her parents."

"Well," Margo smiled, "most people our age can't afford a place like this. We can. Let's enjoy it."

The maitre'd, who wore a black tuxedo with a tail-coat, walked them to a table next to the dance floor where two waiters, each in a tuxedo with short, white jackets, held out a chair for each of them. When they were seated, the waiters pushed their chairs in for them, then stepped back while another waiter, this one in a standard, black tuxedo, came forward and said, "Good evening, ladies. May I offer you a glass of wine before your meals?"

Chris smiled and giggled, "Umm, no thank you. I'm old enough to drink wine."

"As you wish, miss," he smiled and turned to Margo, "and for you, miss?"

Margo smiled and said, "Not at the moment, thank you, but could we have some mineral water and, perhaps, some sweet tea?"

"Of course, miss, and..." one of the white-coated waiters produced two menus, seemingly from nowhere, "...here are tonight's selections. The orchestra will be starting in a few minutes. If you need anything, my name is Maurice."

He stepped away from them and disappeared into the semi-darkness of the club leaving Chris and Margo to read their menus. Seconds later, the two white-coated waiters appeared again and placed cold glasses of sweet tea and a bottle of Perrier on their table. When a younger waiter in a black vest, bow tie and shirt sleeves appeared with a selection of cheeses and breads, each of the white-coats took a napkin, shook it and placed it onto the laps of Chris and Margo. Then, they all disappeared, again.

The both smiled and shook their heads. "Fancy, huh?" Margo laughed.

Chris raised his eye brows in amazement of the precision of the waiters. "There's no prices on this menu. I don't know what anything costs."

"Don't worry your pretty little head about that, sweetie. You take care of business in the band. I'll take care of this. Remember - I spoil you."

Chris smiled some more and tried to figure out how any of the fancy food described in the menu would taste.

As they indulged in the cheeses that were on the tray, they were reading a small card that explained the farm and breed of animal that contributed to each cheese. Up until that moment, neither had ever had any cheese that wasn't processed and sliced for sandwiches. This was all amazing.

As the band started playing, a nine piece group with three singers, two girls and a guy, began to perform while the young lovers ate their salads. Not the typical iceberg lettuce with a thick, oily dressing, but a delicious assortment of delicate greens with a light topping of grated cheese and spices.

"Maybe I didn't love love you
Quite as often as I could have" the male singer crooned.
"Maybe I didn't treat you
Quite as good as I should have"

Chris joined in, singing quietly across the table to Margo, "If I made you feel second best
Girl, I'm sorry I was blind

You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind."

Margo smiled and said, "I like, your voice better than Willie Nelson's."

Chris smiled and flirted back at her. "I don't sing better than Elvis, though and that was an Elvis song years before it was a Willie Nelson song."

She raised her tea glass in a toast and said, "Touché. I stand corrected."

Their main courses were served as one of the female singers sang, "Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely
I'm crazy. Crazy for feeling so blue."

Margot had a grilled tilapia with a sauce that she'd never tasted, but that excited her tastebuds to no end.

Chris had duck prepared in three different ways. It, too, was like nothing he'd ever tasted before.

The dance floor began to fill with happy, romantic couples as they pushed their plates aside and the band sang,
"Don't know when I've been so blue
Don't know what's come over you
You've found someone new
And don't it make my brown eyes blue."

At this point, they had been in the restaurant for nearly two-and-a-half hours. They were pleasantly full and coffee and dessert was yet to be served.

"Want to dance?" Margo asked

"No," Chris shook his head. "That would look kind of weird."

She laughed, "Why? Look at the dance floor."

When he did, Chris noticed that, although most of the couples were men and women, a good sized sampling of the people were same sex couples. Well dressed men and women, but dancing with partners of their own sexes.

"I asked Allan if there was a place where same-sex couples would be comfortable dancing. He recommended this place. He said that it was not a 'gay' club, but a place where affluent, free thinking people came to relax. Perfect, right!? Come on. Let's dance."

Just as they reached the floor, the singer sang the final strains of that old Crystal Gale sang,
"Don't it make my brown eyes
Don't it make my brown eyes
Don't it make my brown eyes blue."

Everyone applauded politely. "They really are very good," Chris said to Margo. "I love to play covers, but I don't think I could ever sound as much like the original artists as they do.

Margo nodded in agreement.

Then, the quiet arpeggios of Dolly Parton's most beautiful song began playing,
"If I should stay
I would only be in your way
So, I'll go, but I know
I'll think of you each step on my way"

As the song began, Chris put his hands in the traditional position for a woman who was ballroom dancing - the way that Garth Brooks had shown him a few days earlier - but Margo took his hands and put them both on her shoulders, pulled him into her and, resting his head on her shoulder and began to sway softly, intimately, gently.

Their breasts pressed together, Margo's higher than Chris's and his just below hers. As they and the other dancers moved about the dance floor, her hands drifter slowly from Chris's lower back to his upper rear end and she pulled him even closer so that their hips were pressed against each other. He was glad that, due to the fullness of his dress's skirt, he had chosen not to wear a gaff tonight, but, instead, had chosen a silky pair of high-waisted panties. As they swayed together, he felt his penis start to wake up in its feminine surroundings. He could feel it swelling against Margo's tight, lace covered thigh. He leaned his head back just a little so that he could look up at her beautiful face and her smile told him that she could feel it, too.

As they stared into each other's eyes, they both sang quietly, "And I will always love you
I will always love you"

As the second verse began, Chris smiled and said, "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

Margo's perfectly painted, red lips smiled and her eyes closed slightly as she accepted the compliment. She smiled and said, "That's only because you can't see yourself. There is no question in my mind; you are the prettiest thing in this room right now."

As if on cue, the second refrain came around and the sang quietly to each other,
"And I will always love you
I will always love you."

When the song ended, they kissed deeply while the rest of the audience applauded. Then, they returned to their table while they continued to stare into each other's eyes.

There were more dances and kisses, coffee so smooth and delicate that it tasted like warmed up, high end ice cream, and a crème brûlée for two that made them sigh with satisfaction.

As 11:30 approached, Margo waved to Maurice to bring the bill, but when he approached, he leaned down and whispered into her ear, "Your bill has been taken care of."

The double take that Margo took was as confused as it was sincere. "Taken care of? By whom?"

Maurice smiled and nodded towards two middle aged men sitting at a table on the other side of the dance floor. "Mr Francis and Mr LaFontaine paid your expenses this evening"

Margo eyed them with a bit of suspicion, but waved her hand in a gesture of thanks. She turned to Maurice and said, "Please thank the gentlemen for us."

Again, Maurice smile, "No need, miss. They are coming over, now."

Margo's head spun towards where the men had been sitting, but they were only a step or two away from them, now. Chris, who had been unaware of anything looked up, startled, as the larger of the two men, both of whom were wearing conservative, dark suits, white shirts and muted ties, said, "Good evening, ladies. We didn't want to intrude, but we just wanted to say hello before you leave."

Each man extended a hand. When Margo and Chris received the hands, assuming they were shaking them, the men helped them to their feet and kissed the backs of their hands, not letting go.

Chris was awash with feelings of feminine vulnerability, but Margo was more cautious. "Umm, gentlemen," she began, "my friend and I..."

"Friend?" The smaller man giggled. "We have been watching you all night. You certainly didn't look like just friends."

Margo's hackles were rising. This was getting a little creepy. Just as she was about to ask the men to leave them alone, the taller man spoke again, "Allow me to introduce us. I am Paul LaFontaine and this is my husband, Bill Francis. We own this club and we have seldom seen a more beautiful couple in here before."

"You... you own this club?" Margo stuttered. "I thought... well.. I thought that... I'm sorry... it's very nice to meet you. I'm Margo and this is..."

The smaller man interrupted, "This must be the charming Miss Christine that Allan Bennett raved about when he called earlier. We are so looking forward to hearing you sing someday, Miss Chris." He kissed his hand again.

Chris gave an appreciative and genuine smile. "Well, thank you, sir. And thank you for everything, tonight."

The taller man smiled at both of them, "You're very welcome, but that's not the only reason we interrupted you."

"No," said the smaller man. You see we also own the William Paul Boutique and, unless I am very mistaken, this lovely Dolce and Gabbana dress was purchased there. Am I right?"

Chris shrugged the question over to Margo who was still recovering from what she had been sure was an attempted pickup by these older men. "Yes! Yes. I was there earlier and bought both of these dresses there."

The taller man smiled and said, "We thought so. You know, when that dress came in, Bill fell in love with it, but I thought it may be too garish for our boutique. Thank God I was wrong." He looked at Chris and his dress and sighed, "Little lady, I'm sure that you have heard this every day of your young life, but you are just beautiful and in that dress, you are a vision. Simply a vision."

Chris beamed with appreciation. "Well, thank you, sir. You're very kind."

"Come," the man continued. "We will escort you to your car."

It was exactly 11:30 as they exited the club and Willy was standing by the limousine waiting. "Willy!" called out the man named Paul. "So good to see you! Are you chaperoning these young ladies, tonight?"

"How are you, Paul?" Willy smiled as he shook the man's hand. "Bill?" Bill gave Willy a hug and a peck on the cheek.

"Willy. I miss you and Sophie. You have to come back to the club."

Willy smiled. "We miss you, too. Lots going on right now, though. Once we get Jojo off to college, we'll be back. And, yes, I am escorting these young ladies this evening. I hope that they were no trouble."

Everyone laughed. "No trouble at all," Paul said. "They were the belles of the evening. Thank you for coming, girls, and please, please come again."

It took another three or four minutes to wrap up the thank you's and goodbyes before the limo was able to pull away from the club. Chris and Margo sat side by side with her arm around his shoulder and his head on her shoulder.

"What time do you need to be at the studio, tomorrow?" Willy asked as they pulled into traffic.

Chris sighed. He'd enjoyed the last couple of days of freedom, but he did look forward to getting back to work to complete the duet with John Holden. "I need to be there by 11:00. So, I guess I'll need to leave around 10:15."

"Ok. I'll be waiting." Willy made a note on his pad of paper as he drove.

"Will you be working all night?" He asked.

"No. Probably a couple of hours. Just trying a few keys and making a scratch-track that the rest of the band can use next week. Why?"

Willy smiled into the mirror, "Your Aunt Sophie is making roast chicken and she'd like you to come and help. She says that it's the mort important meal a girl can know how to prepare. Would you like to come back to the house?"

"I'd love that, Uncle Willy! Tell Auntie that I will be there with bells on!"

Willy laughed. "Bells are fine, but Sophie said, 'no designer clothes. Come ready to work.'"
 
Chapter 10
 

The suite was dark when they entered. None of the others had gotten back. Margo pulled her phone from her purse and snickered.

"What?" asked Chris as he reached into his purse for his.

When he saw the text messages, he giggled.

Text from Gina at 8:57pm: Don't wait up. Staying with John tonight.

Text from Grace at 8:13pm: Me too. Staying with Rick.

Text from Terry at 10:46pm: We're making a night of it, too. Mark wants to show me the sun rise over the Cumberland river.

"Huh. Terry, too," Chris said. "That's surprising."

Margo laughed some more, "Why? You don't think your sissy is a virgin do you?"

"Isn't she?"

"Oh, my goodness, no! She has more experience than me!"

"Seriously?"

Margo thought about what she'd just said, "I don't mean that we're sluts, or anything. I mean... well, to be honest, I've only gone 'all the way' a couple of times and it was with the same guy. We dated for almost a year and a half. I've fooled around a lot, though."

"And Terry?"

Margo's laugh was now a bit uncomfortable. "Well, umm... Terry's always been a popular girl, you know? Very fun and flirty. She dated a lot of guys and... well things happen. I'd guess a couple of times with two or three boys. Not a whore, but not exactly a saint, either. Just a girl in the twenty-first century."

Chris put his phone back in his purse and turned to kiss Margo. "She never mentioned it, to me," he said as he cuddled into her soft, yet firm body.

"Of course not. You were her sickly little brother. She wasn't going to come in to you and tell you that she opened herself up to a boy. As personal as that is for a boy, it's much more personal for a girl. Letting someone enter you is a very big deal for a girl."

She kissed him and her hand wandered to the side of his breast. Without thinking Chris moved his torso just enough to offer her more of his breast. She smiled and kissed him again. "Come on. I'll help you take off your dress."

He took a step back from her embrace and took both of her hands in his. Then, he walked backwards to the room he shared with Terry. His eyes never left Margo's and they both smiled at each other.

Once in the room, he left the door open allowing light from the common room to flow into the bedroom, but the lights in the room remained off. First, he took off his shoes, lowering his height by three inches, making Margo seem that much taller, that much bigger than him. He turned his back towards her and used both of his hands to pull his hair to the back of his head so that she could pull down the zipper of his soft, green, flowered, feminine, girlish dress, revealing his elegant, lace bra straps.

The temptation was too big. Margo slid her hands along the path created by the band of his bra, finding the full, soft cups at the front. She squeezed softly causing Chris to sigh and lean backwards, turning his head awkwardly to accept a kiss and tongue from Margo. The press of her breasts on his back and the feel of her hands caught between the soft cotton of his dress and the smooth silk of his bra, while she fondled and caressed his new and sensitive breasts was turning his legs to pudding. When her kisses moved from his mouth to his naked neck, his knees finally buckled and he had to rely on her strength to hold him upright.

Finally, she relented and let Chris regain his strength. Margo lowered the dress beyond his shoulders, allowing it to drop to the floor. Again, he held his hair up to the back of his head to allow Margo access to his bra clasp, which she undid, her hands shaking with excitement.

He kept his back to her while he pulled his silken panties to the floor and stepped out of them. Then, uncertain that it was the right thing to do, he stepped forward and turned, allowing her to take in his body.

And she did.

His hair was still perfect, soft and full and wavy.

His make up was still lovely and fresh, his mouth, just a bit plumped by the kissing.

His shoulders were small and feminine.

His breasts were round and firm and high. Soft and white.

His waist was trim and his hips, just a little wider than Margo had expected.

His legs were smooth and slender and white and led to little feet that had been so recently pampered with a pedicure, they too were soft and pretty.

Moving back up his legs, he came to the spot where his legs met. Where anyone would expect a mound and tuft of hair. Instead, there was a respectably sized, partially erect penis. With no hair around it, it looked like belonged to a little boy, but the reality of the body to which it was attached made it clear that this penis belonged to a beautiful girl on the verge of womanhood.

The realizations of this dichotomy made Margo shiver with desire.

"What do you think? Am I a freak?" Chris asked feeling more naked than he'd ever felt.

"A freak?" Margo was shocked by the term. "You're the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

His smile was small and uncertain. "Really. It doesn't look weird that I have a... this?"

She smiled and knelt down in front of him. She kissed the head of the penis causing it to jerk to life. She smiled, again, and kissed it gently along the shaft; first one side, then the other. Then, she carefully lifted it to gain access to his sack, which she kissed several times before standing and hugging him to her.

"I love every inch of you. From your perky breasts to your pretty little cock. You are just beautiful."

Chris's smile indicated his relief. "I love you, too. I mean, I really, really love you. You're the first person to see me naked. Even the doctor only looked at my breasts. I was really nervous to show you."

Margo used a finger to push a stray hair from Chris's face and placed it behind his ear. Then, as she kissed him, she ran that finger down his throat, across his shoulder, down his breast and across his nipple. Chris's breath caught and Margo used that moment to insinuate her tongue as far into his mouth as possible. Chris moaned with excitement.

She broke the kiss. "Do you think you're ready for what's about to happen."

He smiled, "I am. I'm not a little girl, you know." That made him giggle.

Margo laughed, too, but said, "I'll be right back."

She returned in less than a minute with her purse. She opened it and pulled out a small, square, metallic envelop.

"What's that?" Chris asked.

"A condom," she glanced at him, incredulously. "I know this is new to you, but you do what a condom is, right?"

"Well, yes. I just didn't think..." he couldn't come up with any more words. It all seemed a little embarrassing.

"Then, it's a good thing that I did 'think' for both of us. You can't have a big, old, pregnant bass player, now can you?" She teased. "Do you want to put it on, or do you want me to do it?"

He shrugged. Obviously, he knew what a condom was and he knew that it was the right thing to wear in this circumstance, but he'd never contemplated how to put one on.

Margo enjoyed his confusion. She kissed his cheek. "Don't worry, angel. I'll take care of you."

Again she knelt and rolled the condom onto his organ. She remained kneeling for a few moments longer and kneaded him through the thin latex.

"That feels nice, doesn't it?" She cooed as if speaking to a child. He nodded.

She guided him to his bed and had him lay back. She reached behind her and pulled down her zipper and stepped out of her dress. Her black lace bra was perfect for her strong, feminine body. The matching boy-shorts were also adorned with black lace. A few months ago, the idea of lace had barely entered Chris's consciousness. Now, he loved to look at it, wear it and, especially now, touch it.

She was taller than him. Bigger than him and her breasts were bigger, too. He nibbled her nipples through the lacy cups and massaged them with his fingers, but Margo moved lower and took his nipple into her mouth, teasing it with her lips and tongue. He'd never felt anything like that before. He thrust his breast further into her mouth and began to rut his groin against her thigh. The tingles in his breasts moved to his lips and his fingers and his toes. He shook and grabbed at her strong back.

He was panting and sweating. Margo's mouth was unrelenting. He was totally at her mercy. He was on the edge and she could sense it, so she slowed down and let him relax a moment, but, to be sure that she kept his attention, she did play with his latexed penis.

Chris rolled onto his side allowing his tongue access to Margo's breasts. Again, he nibbled and dry nursed on her through her bra. He reached around her to undo the clasp, it she whispered, "No, no, no. momma's keeping her bra on till she's ready to let you in. I want this to last a while and little-boy-virgins are notoriously quick to the finish line. Just relax and let momma take care of you."

'This is new!' Chris thought. Oh, well, if she wanted to play a little sex game, that was fine with him. He was already in heaven. He played along "Do I really look like a little boy to you?"

She smiled, "Ok. Little girl, then. But you are definitely my little play thing tonight."

The teasing, kissing, licking and caressing continued for nearly an hour. Every time he approached climax, Margo would calm him back down. Chris thought he would explode.

Finally, she turned him over onto his back, spread his legs, raised his knees an said, "Now, just stay that way while momma takes off her panties."

She stood and lowered them seductively to the floor. As she climbed back onto the bed, she smiled. "Are you ready, little girl?" She played with his ridged member and even ran one long finger in and out of his anus while she prepared.

Chris smiled and nodded.

"Usually, the girl spreads her legs for her man to enter, but I think I'm much more manly than you. What do you think?"

He shook his head. "There's nothing manly about you, but I'll be happy to let you be in control."

She smiled as she pushed two, then three fingers as deep into his rear opening as far possible. Chris tried to relax and let them enter even further.

"What a good girl," Margo cooed. "Does that feel good?"

Chris smiled and tried to open as wide as he could, but Margo was done down there, for now.

She knelt up straighter and spread her knees to the side as far as she could. Then, she took Chris's member in her hand and held it up as she raised her pelvis above. Then, without ever losing eye contact, she lowered herself onto him and took him deep inside of her.

Slowly, she began thrusting her pelvis into his, then pulling back, massaging every inch of his manhood with each stroke. Gradually, she picked up momentum and speed until Chris's breasts were bouncing nearly to his shoulders and his groans of ecstasy filled the room.

Margo slowed several times to savor her own orgasms as she continued to guide Chris towards his. She was not the most experienced woman in the world, but she knew that he was on the verge of cumming. She reached behind her back and easily released her bra clasps, pulling the garment from her shoulders.

"Look at me, baby. Look at me as you cum. Just stare at my nipples. Think only about my nipples while you cum for momma."

He did. He fixed his eyes on the most beautiful thing he could imagine and, suddenly, he stiffened and his eyes glazed over as he filled the condom to the breaking point.

Margo smiled and squeezed him as he softened in her grip. "Ahhh. What a good little girl you are." She cooed, again.

When his penis felt flaccid, she pulled herself off of him and smiled at the filled condom. She grabbed a tissue and carefully removed the prophylactic. "Put on your nightie, baby. I'll be right back."

Chris wearily pulled himself to the edge of the bed, sat up and pulled the pretty, cotton nightie over his head. It was plain white with narrow straps over the shoulder and little, flower-shaped eyelets across the surface.

When Margo returned, she was wearing a dark green, knee length, silk nightie with a lace bodice and lace around the hem.

She crawled in behind Chris and pulled him close so that her knees were tucked in right behind his and her arms were wrapped around his shoulders.

"Sweet dreams, my love."

He smiled and cuddled back into her. "Sweet dreams. I love you."

"I love you, too."
 
 
To Be Continued...

Dusty Rose - 5 Final

 

Chris and the Dusty Rose girls have finished in the studio for now
and Chris has to actually experience his life as Chrissie.
Their story comes to a conclusion.

---

 
Author's Note: I apologize. I thought I could finish this series with this installment, as I promised would. I was unable to do that though. There is something about these characters that just keeps me exploring their story. But alas, I have come to their end, for now. I hope that you have enjoyed this story.
Please, let me know what you think about my story, both good and bad.
Please, leave me a review! ~Clara.
 
This version of Dusty Rose - 5 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
 
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.

---

 
 
Chapter 1
 

"Well, this is a new look for you!" Willy laughed as Chris pulled himself into the shot-gun seat of the town car. When Willy had pulled up to the front door of the hotel, Chris had been out in front waiting for him. He was carrying his guitar and wearing a simple, yellow sundress. That alone was a bit different, Willy had noticed that all the Dusty Rose girls tended to dress similarly, usually in fairly subdued colors, like most northern girls. Although he had seen Chrissie dressed up on three separate occasions, now, this dress was a distinctly southern looking dress. Like something that Jojo and her friends would wear. The big difference, though, was the hair. It was elaborately braided around his head and down his neck.

"Does it look ok?"

"It looks lovely, darling. Did you do it yourself?"

Chris laughed, "Yeah, I wish. I don't know how to do anything fancy with my hair. I went to the salon at the hotel and asked them to do something nice that would keep me cool. It's getting so hot out and I have a lot of hair."

Willy put the car in gear and pulled out of the driveway. "What are we listening to today, sweetie?"

"Can we just talk, today, Uncle Willy?"

"Sure, darling. What's the problem?"

"No real problem, Uncle Willy. Just... well, just worries, I guess."

Willy just listened as he drove.

"I can't really talk to anyone else. I hope you don't mind, but... see... When we were signed to record this album, well, everything just became a whirlwind. We had to change our lives and the way we looked and we had to talk to our parents... Then, before we knew it, we were here and in the studio, working nonstop'

'Since we finished the album, I'm really scared about it. What happens if the album flops. Or, what happens if one of the girls gets sick, or leaves the band. Or, what happens if the public... I don't know... finds out something about us that they don't like. What will happen to us?"

Willy sighed and turned on his right turn directional. He pulled into an empty parking lot and put the car in park. He looked forward, lost in thought, for a few moments before throwing his right arm over the seat behind Chris, pulling his bulky frame as far to the right as possible. When he'd settled, he looked into Chris's eyes and patted his braided head gently.

"First," he spoke quietly and firmly, "you are seventeen years old. You're in Nashville, working with a great producer. You have already achieved far beyond your peers. If that success continues, that's wonderful. If the album fails, then think of it as the first failure on your way to success. Relax. If things go well, the other girls will be there with you. If things go badly... guess what... the girls will be there with you, too.

Chris nodded.

"Second, the Lord takes care of us all. We can't control every aspect of our lives or our health. I had a brother who was in great shape, walked three miles a day and ate nothing but organic food. Then, one day when he was thirty seven, I found him dead at his desk. We worked together every single day. Who do you think I blamed for that? Me. I blamed myself and I hated myself for not being there when he needed me."

He continued to hold Chris in his fatherly gaze. "Does that sound familiar at all?"

Chris nodded.

"Now, it took me a long time to realize that I was not responsible for his death and you need to realize that you're not responsible for your daddy's death, either. I know you're afraid of losing any of your friends, but you are only a child. You have a long road ahead of you and you are not responsible for anyone but you. Everyone is happy and healthy now. Enjoy that while it lasts."

Now, Chris sighed and nodded again.

"And finally..." he paused to choose his words correctly. "I'm not a brilliant man, baby, but I know that you're keeping some pretty big secrets and that wears on a child, but there are a lot of people around you and they all love you and they will protect you. Do you understand?"

Chris wiped his watery eyes. "Uncle Willy... I need to tell you..."

"No, angel, you don't. There is nothing that you could tell me that would change how I feel about you. If I was forced to tell you what I think you want to say, I bet you'd be surprised to hear me say it, but sweetheart, I have watched you grow from an uncomfortable girl to confident woman in the last few weeks. That doesn't happen unless there were some pretty big changes going on in someone's life."

"You knew?" Chris was relieved and a little scared.

"Actually, you told me once."

Chris was confused. "No, I didn't."

Willy took a deep breath. "Once, when you were telling me about your daddy and you were pretty emotional, you said, 'I was only a little boy.' I never heard a woman say that she had been a little boy - that is - unless she had been a little boy."

Chris raised his hands to his mouth. How could he have said something so careless. Had he said that to anyone else!?!?

"Don't worry, angel. No one else knows. Every day, you become a more beautiful woman. I promise: no one will ever know unless you want them to."

Chris hugged Willy and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you, Uncle Willy."

Willy smiled, turned forward and put the car in gear. "We're family, now, darling. Family takes care of each other."
 
Chapter 2
 

"Ok, Chrissie," Mark's voice was in Chris's headphones, "I think you nailed it that time. Take a break. You have some visitors in here."

They had been recording the scratch-track for the duet between Dusty Rose and John Holden. It was a pretty straight-ahead country music ballad, Chris was determined to make it feel a certain way - just a little bit more like a rock song without taking it out of the sphere of 'country.' He took off his headphones, put down his guitar and headed into the booth. What he found surprised him. Besides Mark, Allan Bennett had come in and so had John Holden with his new romantic partner, Gina. They all had big smiles on their faces, but it was the woman next to Gina who spoke first and it was her words that made Chris's knees go weak.

The woman had a young child on her hip and she had to move the child a bit to free up an arm to offer a hand shake to Chris. "Hi, Christine, we met the other night," she said with a sweet touch of a drawl. "I'm Hillary Scott of Lady Antebellum and, girl, that is sounding real good in there."

For a moment, Chris couldn't speak. This was just a scratch-track; not the kind of work he wanted to present to a successful country music artist like Hillary Scott! Why hadn't anyone told him that she was in the booth!? Then he stuttered, "Oh, hi... Ms Scott... oh, my goodness, Hi! Oh, my... Gina!! It's Hillary Scott! Ummm... yeah... That was just a scratch-track, you know... not really a completed..." Then it occurred to him that it could not just be a coincidence that Hillary Scott would wander into a recording studio by chance. There had to be a reason. He tried to form a polite, thoughtful sentence, but all that came out was, "Why are you here?"

Hillary laughed. "Well, darling, I just stopped by to talk to Allan. The boys and I would like you girls to open for Lady Antebellum at six large arenas over a two week period starting in ten days at an arena in Jacksonville. How does that sound?"

He leaned against the wall to stay upright. "Seriously?"

"Well, yes, darling. Of course I'm being serious. Six concerts to get you gals ready to become headliners yourselves. What do ya say?"

He looked to Gina who said, "You say, 'yes,' Chrissie! You say, 'yes!'"

Chris began nodding, but it took a good 10 seconds to make his voice work. "Yes! I say, yes!! Oh, my goodness! Thank you so much, Ms Scott. Thank you, so much!"

"Hillary, baby. Call me Hillary."

Allan laughed. "Good luck with that. I'm still Mr Bennett."

Hillary smiled and the child in her arms grunted her desire to get down. "I've got to go. This little one is getting fidgety and needs a nap. We'll be in touch!" She left with a final wave.

Gina ran to Chris and hugged him. "Can you believe it!? Ten days from now and we'll be opening for them! Ten-freaking-days!"

"I have more news," Allan said. "We're dropping your first two singles the day after tomorrow."

"The day after tomorrow!?" Screamed Gina.

"Two singles!?" Screamed Chris at the same moment.

"That's right," Allan loved their reaction. "'In His Eyes' and 'One Less Set Of Footsteps' are being released simultaneously in," he checked his watch, "thirty-six hours and eleven minutes."

Gina leapt into John's arms. "Can you believe this?"

John's smile showed a bit of concern about his own future, but he said, "That's great, baby. Congratulations!"

Chris was still holding the console for support. "I think I'm going to throw up," he said. Allan realized that Chris was actually shaking, so he grabbed a waste basket handed it to him, the took him into a big, supportive hug.

"That's ok, honey. You're ready. It will be great," and Chris vomited into the waste basket.
 
Chapter 3
 

"Mr Bennett says that we need to take the next two days in the studio to finish up the recording with John, he's from our hometown, and then on Monday we start filming performance and concert footage for the videos. They'll only be a little bit of a story with Gina and John and a little with Terry and John. Other than that, we need to get a concert set together for the tour with Lady Antebellum and then we go on a short tour. From there, Mr Bennett says that we'll have to see how the sales of the singles go and, eventually the album, goes, but we probably will start on our own by the beginning of August. Small places at first, of course, but it could pick up momentum if sales are good. They're working on a logo for us, too. The drafts that I saw are very cool. They all have a rose, of course, but very cool..."

Chris was talking a mile a minute while Jojo and Margo sat at the counter with him. All three were shucking freshly picked corn while Sophie was pulling pots and pans out of cabinets. The younger girls were laughing at Chris's excitement, while Sophie struggled to keep up with the nonstop barrage of words. Her occasional remarks consisted of "uh-huh," "now, who said that," "where is that, now?" etc.

When Willy had come to pick up Chris, he had brought along Margo as a surprise and thank goodness he had because Chris was so excited that he had been speaking nonstop since entering the town car. It was not even 4:00 and Willy was exhausted from all the talking.

Margo was also excited, but Chris was so much more excited than Margo was even capable that she was hopelessly amused by his enthusiasm.

"Are you excited, too?" Jojo asked Margo from across the counter. She spoke quietly so as not to interrupt Chris.

Margo smiled and nodded. "I'm pretty scared, too. We never played for more than 250 people before. Everything is just moving so darned fast, you know?"

Jojo smiled and rubbed her hand on Margo's arm. "You're going to be great. My dad says that you guys are the best."

Margo smiled and grabbed another ear of corn. "I hope so."

Sophie was trying to find a break in the flow of words coming out of the little girl in the yellow sundress so that the cooking lesson could begin.

Willy, who had changed into jeans and a tee shirt, came back into the kitchen. "Lord, child," he gave a full throated laugh as he spoke loader than necessary. "Will you please take a breath? If you don't get dinner started, we're all going to starve!"

Chris stopped abruptly and cover his mouth with his hands, but his eyes were still sparkling with excitement. "Sorry."

Willy laughed even harder and gave him a huge hug. "No need to apologize, sweetie. It's a big day. I know. Now, let your Auntie show you how to do some cooking, ok?"

Chris hugged Willy once more and then bounced over to Sophie. "I'm ready Auntie Sophie. Sorry."

"Oh, baby," Sophie laughed, "I love seeing you this happy. Let me show you how to make the stuffing first. Then we'll get the chickens started."

"Chickens!" Chris was surprised.

"Yes. Three chickens. There are twelve of us tonight."

Margo was shocked at that number. "Twelve? Is it a party?"

Jojo laughed at Margo. "You can tell that you're new around here. Twelve is a slow night around here. That's why we have a ten foot long dinning room table. It's always full."

"Wow." Margo considered the amount of work necessary to feed twelve people. Living with her dad, it was mostly take out food or mac and cheese. She'd never seen a family like this one before.

"Daddy," Jojo said with a playful smile. "Can we go to Margo and Chrissie's first concert?"

Willy feigned astonishment. "In Jacksonville!? I don't think so, Josephine. That's a long way to travel. I'll have to think about it."

"Oh, come on, daddy. Pleaaaaaaaaassssssssseeeeeeeeeee!?"

Willy raised his eyebrows to look injured by her persistence. Then he sighed. "Darn it! I forgot to bring out the stuff I just printed. Joey, would you please go get the papers from my printer?"

Jojo said, "Sure," and ran down the hall to retrieve the papers."

"Just mix up the bread crumbs and spices with your hands and we'll add some warm water." Sophie was showing Chris how to mix the stuffing. "I always add some chopped celery and carrots and sometimes, like tonight, I add some chopped greens, too. It makes the stuffing taste so much better."

While Chris followed Auntie Sophie's instructions, Willy moved to the counter and put his hands on Margo's shoulders. "You ok, honey?"

She smiled. "I'm fine, Willy. Just very excited and very... well... petrified."

Willy chuckled. "That's ok. You should be, but y'all are going to be great. I'm sure of it."

Out of the blue, there was a scream from down the hallway. Everyone turned to see Josephine skip into the room carrying a small stack of papers , she ran to Willy and hugged him. "Oh, daddy, thank you, thank you, thank you! Look!" She held up the papers for Margo, Chris and Sophie to see. "We have tickets to the show!"

Sophie folded her arms in a scolding manner, "William Elias. What is the matter with you? Do you have any idea how much it will cost to go to Jacksonville for a concert?"

Willy nodded. "I do because I already booked hotel rooms and plane tickets. It's done Sophie and I can't un-do it."

Sophie walked towards her husband with a look of cartoonish anger on her face. When she reached him, she ran her hand along his cheek. "You're a good man, William. That's a nice thing to do."

"Purely for selfish reasons, though, my love," Willy smiled. "I want to tell people that I was there the first time Dusty Rose performed live."

Sophie hugged him. She smiled as she turned back to give Chris her full attention. "That's good, baby. Now, let's stuff the birds. I'm telling you, baby, this is an easy meal and everyone loves it. You'll hold onto a man forever just serving this meal once a week."

Margo snickered at the remark. Jojo leaned across to her and whispered, "Are you guys a couple?"

Margo's smile was a dead give away as she rolled her eyes and nodded. "Yeah. We kind of are. Nothing official, but, yeah."

The smile that spread across Jojo's face showed that she had figured that out on her own. "I thought so. You're very cute together."

"Thanks."

When the family had finally gathered, there was Willy, Sophie, Josephine, Margo, Eli and his fiancé, Jenna, 2 of Jojo's sisters, Carrie and Louise, Louise's husband Tony, their daughter Emma and, of course, Chris. As each woman had arrived, she took up a job in the kitchen. "Many hands make light work," Auntie Sophie had said, but it looked to Chris as if Auntie Sophie thrived on hard work in the kitchen. It was her kingdom.

When it was time for things to be served, everyone took their place around the huge kitchen table, except for Jojo, Sophie and Chris. While Jojo brought the vegetables and salad to the table, Sophie showed Chris how to quickly carve the birds and debone the pieces that just pulled off. "Better to keep all of your mess on the counter, so that the table cloth stays clean, right, Angel?" Chris nodded, still amazed at all of the thought that Sophie put into a meal. His own mom never had the luxury of being a real homemaker. Even when his dad was still alive, she always had a job that kept her working till dinner time. If she ever dragged out the crockpot, he and Terry rejoiced at the idea of a 'home cooked' meal.

When Chris heard Jojo announce, "Christine made these biscuits by herself. It's her first time baking anything," Chris looked up and smiled at the assembled family.

"Is that so?" Asked Louise. "Well, let's just see if they pass The Daddy Test!" The whole table laughed.

Carrie explained through her giggles, "Daddy likes his biscuits just so, isn't that right, daddy?"

"Yes indeed, I do." Willie held up a lumpy biscuit and looked at it carefully. "Let's see how the newest member of the cooking brigade has done."

The room grew quiet as Willy appeared to be very business-like. Only Sophie waved him off and continued plating the meat.

"Hmmmm. Nice shape," he mused.

He sniffed it, "Nice aroma."

He pulled it apart, "Nice consistency, looks as if it is cooked thoroughly."

He put half of the biscuit down and grabbed a knife, spreading a thin layer of butter on the remaining half, "Seems to hold the butter well." A few snickers passed around the table as the patriarch of the family made smiling-eye-contact with everyone at the table and he tossed the entire half-biscuit into his mouth.

As he chewed, his eyes rolled back in his head and he announced, "Lord Almighty, if that isn't one of the best biscuits I've ever tasted!" There was playful applause around the table.

Even Sophie stopped what she was doing to join in. Each of her daughters had experienced the exact same ritual when she made her first batch of biscuits. Each of them had only been eight or nine years old, though. It amused her to see how big Chris's smile was. 'She's an odd child,' Sophie thought.

When everything was on the table and everyone was seated, Willy took the hands of Sophie and Eli, who sat to his right and left, and everyone else joined hands as well. Margo looked at Chris and raised her eyebrows. She thought that saying Grace was just something that happened in old movies or done ironically at holidays.

"God," Willy said so comfortably that it was obvious that this man said these words with frequency, "thank you for this food, for the earth that provides it and for my wonderful family with whom I share it. Thank you for my wife and all of my beautiful children, including my two newest daughters, Christine and Margo. May they always feel welcome in my home."

"Amen," was said in unison.

Chris smiled and looked to everyone to see when to start eating.

Margo raised an eyebrow towards Chris, again, "Wow," she whispered to him, "no wonder you love this guy."

"I know, right?" Chris laughed as a huge bowl of potatoes was passed to him. "I love it here."

"So," said Louisa's husband, Tony, "you girls are musicians, huh?"

"Yes. I play bass and Chris sings," Margo replied.

"Cool. And how is your career doing? It's not an easy road, is it?"

"No work talk!" Willy proclaimed as he filled his plate. "You know the rules. No talking about work or school work at the table."

"I know, dad, but..."

Willy smiled and shook a finger from side to side imitating a shaking head.

"Ok," his son-in-law laughed. "So, Margo," he began again, "how do you like Nashville?"

When no one could eat another morsel, little Emma started fidgeting in her high chair. "Oh, you need to stretch your legs, baby, don't you," said her mom, Louise. She unbuckled the child's restraints and lifted her from the chair, allowing her to wander the kitchen freely. She took just a few wobbly steps before making a bee-line for Chris who could not have been happier to reach down and pick the child up.

"Hi, Emma. Hi, baby," he cooed. "Did you miss me? I sure missed you?" Now, Chris stood so that he could sway the child back and forth.

Louise leaned over to whisper to Margo. "She's a natural born mommy, isn't she."

"I guess so," Margo shrugged. "A couple of months ago, I never would have said so, but, yeah... she sure seems to be a great mommy."
 
Chapter 4
 

"'Broken Promises' lead vocal track, take seventeen." Mark's voice showed no sign of the frustration that everyone was feeling. It's a really good song and they all knew that. The girls had laid down the instrumental tracks in a heartbeat, yesterday. Chris had been typically well prepared and had walked each of them through what he was looking for.

But the lead duet vocal tracks were just not coming together.

Just as the recording began, Allan Bennett entered the booth. "How's it going, Mark?"

Mark let out a long breath, "Not great, but it'll get there, I guess... I hope..."

Chris began singing,

"Just another day, dreaming of your touch
Just another morning, expecting way too much"

John Holden took over,

"Just another lie to get me through the day
Just another empty kiss to make you want to stay."

Then the true duet began with John singing in a medium-high range and Chris belting out deep sadness a third above John,

"You broke your vow and made me cry
You turned your back and said goodbye
You laughed and sneered as I fell apart
But your broken promises can't break my heart."

Mark looked Allan who shook his head. Mark stopped the playback.

When the music in his headphones stopped, Chris sighed, dropped his gaze and shook his ponytailed head for a moment, waiting for Mark to tell them what was wrong. When nothing was said, Chris looked to the booth and saw Allan Bennett gesturing broadly, explaining something to Mark and the girls.

He was saying, "It's not Chris, it's John, I know. He's not opening up to Chris's voice. It sounds like he's fighting her rather than singing with her. How long have they been at it?"

"We did the background vocals with Chrissie from about 10:00 till 11:15. She's been in there with John for about two-and-a-half hours now," Grace said. "They rehearsed for a while, then started recording."

"Maybe we should all leave. Maybe we're making him too nervous." Gina was offering any reason to leave. She had developed strong feelings for John and could sense his anxiety. Maybe, if they were gone, he could relax and do a better job.

Allan nodded and turned to Mark. "Tell them to take a break and talk through the emotions of the song or something. Tell them to keep busy." He turned to the girls and said, "Let's go out to the hall to talk. They're watching us and I have some news for you."

When the instructions from the booth came through, John pulled his headphones off and threw them at the wall. "Goddamnit! What the hell am I doing wrong?"

The outburst really startled Chris and he was genuinely scared for a moment. Nothing like this ever happened dealing with the girls. He'd talk them through things and everything would just come together. This was exactly what he meant when he'd been talking to Mr Bennett. He and the girls were much better than the sum of their parts. He didn't have any experience with John and he felt like he was in far over his head. He looked to the booth for help, but Mr Bennett and the girls were leaving and Mark was talking to Mr Bennett. None of them had seen John's outburst.

"Well, first, calm down," Chris said. "Anger is definitely not the emotion we want in the song." Chris sat on a piano bench and hunched forward, his knees together and his elbows on his knees. "We need to talk our way through this so that we're not just beating our heads against a wall."

John nodded.

"Here's how I envision the song," Chris continued. "We really loved each other, once, and something went wrong. We still love each other now, but we're both so hurt by the other that we can't let that pain go and get on with our lives."

John contemplated this, took a deep breath and nodded.

"Ok," he said as he moved to sit beside Chris on the piano bench. While Chris had his back to the keyboard, John faced it, folded his arms on the closed music stand of the 8-foot Baldwin and put his head down. "I understand all that. I'm trying, I swear I am."

Chris leaned back now, his back supported by the key-cover. "Then what's going on? We ran through this song at least ten times in the hotel room. You sounded great then."

John remained quiet for a few minutes, then, "Chrissie... I'm scared."

Chris leaned to the side and rested his head on John's arm. "I know, John. I am too. At least you have a back up plan. You have your bachelors and nearly have masters degree. If this all falls apart, John... I'll be working as a checkout clerk at a food mart. I don't even have a GED."

John let out a frustrated laugh. "Chris, I heard your songs on the radio last night. On the freaking radio! They are amazing, Chris. You are going to be huge and you know it. This duet... this is just charity and you and I both know it."

"No, it's not, John. It's friends helping friends. Let us be your friends, ok. Relax and just sing the song. It'll be great and so will you."

John picked his head up and turned to look Chris in the eyes. "You think so?"

"I do."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Chris turned his body to face John, but remained leaning on the piano. He put his right elbow onto of the instrument and laid his head down on it, facing John.

John moved his body slightly to mimic Chris. "These songs you write... have you ever been in love? I mean... you're only seventeen, right?"

Chris smiled and giggled a bit. "I think so. You?"

"I don't know. I think I may be in love with Gina, but I don't know." There was a silence as they just looked at each other a while longer. Then John said, "Can I ask you another question?"

"Sure," Chris smiled.

"It's Margo, isn't it? You're in love with her."

At first, Chris didn't know quite what to say, then he just grinned and giggled.

"I knew it. Well, I can certainly understand that; she certainly is beautiful."

The silence continued.

"And so are you," John said as he slipped a hand around Chris's waste and pulled him close. "Have you ever kissed a man before?"

"Just you at the dinner." He couldn't help himself. He wanted to make John comfortable and flirting was certainly helping.

John leaned in and gently pressed his lips against Chris's. The kiss was soft and tender and, despite himself, Chris felt a tingle in his gaffed loins. When the kiss ended, Chris remained in the exact position that he had been before, and he smiled broadly at John.

"Well?" John asked.

Chris giggled some more, "Well, I'm not falling in love with you if that's what you're asking."

John joined in the laughter, "Me neither, but I felt like I needed to kiss you. Are we cool?"

"Yes. We're cool. Now, let's try the song again."

Meanwhile, Mark had joined Allan and the girls in the hall.

"They're putting 'In His Eyes' into the standard rotation today. It has already been doing well over night and the local Nashville affiliates are sending out word to the rest of the country that you girls are hotter than Hades. I'm pretty sure that both songs will chart in the Hot 100 this week and I think that 'In His Eyes' may well make it to the Top 40 and the Country Top 40 within a week. This is even bigger than I had expected. We need to finish up video work ASAP and get you girls onto some television spots quickly. Y'all are blowing it up just like I predicted!"

Rather than the jumping up-and-down that Allan had expected, the girls responded with shocked whispers of 'wow' amongst themselves.

"I did expect a little more enthusiasm about this," Allan chided.

"It's just a lot to take in," Terry laughed, nervously. "Especially on the first day that things aren't going very well."

He gave a dismissive wave towards the studio. "Don't worry about that. Chris will get him there, but listen, not a word to Chris or John until they finish up. Neither of them needs more pressure. As a matter of fact, why don't you all give us an hour or two here to finish up. Like Gina said, I think the audience is bothering John a little."

They said, "Ok," and, headed for the elevators.

Terry stopped to give Mark a kiss. "Want a coffee or anything when I come back."

"Naw," he kissed her again. "It'll be almost dinner time by then. How about supper with my girl?"

She laughed and gave him a final kiss. "We probably should. It looks like things are going to get pretty busy in the next few weeks."

"'Broken Promises' lead vocal. Take 20."

Take 18 had gone pretty well. Take 19 had gone really well. John had opened up his ears and started singing WITH Chris instead of against him, and Chris had been able to relax and reach a more comfortable emotional level - more like he had been doing with the girls. Nevertheless, this was the hardest day in the studio that Chris had had so far.

The final line of the song approached and the music slowed down. They looked directly at each other, determined to enunciate every work at the same time.

"Broken promises
Can't break
My
Heart"

Chris took a chance and leapt to a higher note to create a new harmony, then, as John held his note, Chris did a little ornamental flourish and dropped back down to the original harmony. John's surprise and smile brightened his voice just a little, making the last phrase more touching and poignant.

Three seconds of silence and stillness, then Mark's voice, "You nailed it, guys. Come on in and give it a listen."

John grabbed Chris and planted another big kiss on his lips. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! It was so much better working with you then the studio guys. They treat me like an upstart." He took Chris's hand and lead the way to the recording booth.

Chris smiled as he thought about that. It probably was a lot easier to do it with a band than it would be doing it alone. He hadn't thought of that.

They heard the play back. Chris was satisfied, but John was elated.

Mark fidgeted with a few things to balance things correctly, add a little reverb here and there... he knew from day one with Chrissie that she would have a fit if he even mentioned pitch-correction, so he stayed away from that.

Allan came in to hear the piece and he liked it a lot, too. He hugged Chris and kissed the crown of his head. "You know," he said to John, "you have a pretty good album put together, but, judging from the initial airplay, feedback and sales from Dusty Rose's debut singles, having this appear only on your album and NOT on theirs is going to really help you. You know that, right?"

"I know," he nodded his head and smiled. "Chris, I can't thank you enough."

Chris shrugged, "It's what people do. They help each other. Right?"

"Not most people," chortled Allan, "but maybe hanging around with your Uncle Willy has been good for you."

"It's been great for me!"
 
Chapter 5
 

"Pink? My signature color has to be pink!? Can I please have blue - even baby blue?" Chris was looking at the pink confection before him and nearly shaking in his flip flops. The "Image Consultant" that had been assigned to their video shoot seemed like a very nice lady, but she had assigned a signature color to each member of the band for the video. That, she explained, would make it easier for the audience to recognize the girls throughout the video. Each member of the band had three outfits - one for the "practice room" section of the video, one for the "out and about" section of the video and one for the "live performance" section of the video. Grace was red. Margo was grey with patterns. Gina was a combination of black and brown. Terry was purple and, of course, Chris was pink. Not just pink, but PINK. Pink that you could see a thousand feet away in a blackout.

The "out and about" dress was fine; a little fit and flare thing with a lot of white lace, exposed shoulders and a modest neck line. It showed lots of leg, but he could be careful enough wearing it.

The "practice room" outfit was actually a very cute romper that hung playfully from his shoulders and looked a little too big, but in a sweet kind of way.

The "live performance" dress, though... It was a pink, strapless dress with a full tulle petticoat that ended mid-thigh. Even the ludicrously high sandals that went with the dress were pink.

"Come on, Sissy, try it on. The other two looked adorable on you and we all like what she gave us." Terry laughed at Chris's dilemma.

"It's just a dress," Gina added. "God knows you've worn enough dresses lately. Why is this one spooking you?"

"It's not spooking me, it just looks... infantile. Like a little girl's dress. And besides, you get to wear jeans, so you can just hush up."

Gina laughed heartily now, too.

Grace pulled on her concert dress, a simple, yet beautiful, red sundress with white flowers embroidered on it. "Look, mine is young looking, too. It's not "infantile," it's "girl next door." It's country music, baby! Girl next door, petticoats, lipstick, eye shadow... the whole nine yards."

"Come on, sweetie," Margo looked amazing in her sundress and cowgirl boots. Like a model in a magazine, "try it on. I can't wait to see you in it."

"Or out of it," Gina joked, but, instead of laughs, she was greeted with "Shhhh," from her band mates.

He sighed and pulled off the romper. "Can you help me with this?" he asked Terry.

"Of course, baby," she replied and took the poofy, pink garment from its hanger.

As she brought it to the floor, Terry realized that she would need to organize the petticoats in such a way that Chris would be able to step into the dress, but there were so many layers that she couldn't make it work. "We'll have to lower it over your head. Margo, here, take half of this with me and help me get it on him."

They folded through the material to find the center, then lifted it high enough to lower it over Chris's head and past his arms to hold it in place before zipping it up. As Terry started to pull up the zipper, Margo said, "Hang on. There's a bustier built into the dress, baby. Take off your bra or it won't fit right."

Terry undid the clasps in the back and helped him get it off as modestly as possible, but there were a few seconds of exposed breast. Margo, of course had seen them before, but Terry, Gina and Gracie had not and there was definitely a fascination about them.

It was Gracie - quiet, shy Gracie - who said, "Wow. They look so real. You're really beautiful, Chris, you know?" On complete impulse, she moved closer and lowered his top to get a closer look. "Really beautiful. I didn't think they'd look this good."

Chris, gently moved his dress back around his breasts. "Thank you, I guess."

Realizing how intrusive her actions had been, Gracie shook off her fascination and said, "Oh... sorry. I was just... sorry."

Chris shrugged it off and Terry pulled the zipper up. "It's tight. Take a deep breath for me." The zipper rose and Chris's posture improved as the tightness of the bustier top encased him.

When she'd got the zipper all the way up, he breathed again. "It's very tight!" he smiled and rubbed his abdomen from just beneath his breasts, which were on magnificent display in this dress, to the place where his skirt began to spread out. "Very tight. Whew!" He rubbed his abdomen and blinked his eyes. "Very tight."

"But very pretty," said the image consultant as she entered the room. "Yes, I think we nailed it. You look radiant in that. The right hair and makeup and, little girl, you will be a knock out. Put on the shoes and get used to them. Allan tells me that you are a bit of a tomboy, right? Well, no one will know when I get done with you. You will be a beautiful, twenty-first Century Southern Belle."

Chris sat as he put on his shoes and fastened the straps. "I'm not sure that I wanted to be a Southern Belle." He said. "Most of my music heroes dress pretty casually."

Terry knelt in front of him to help with the shoes, "That's because most of them are men. Think about the women you know in country music. They're all some kind of a Southern Belle fantasy, right?" She stood and whispered in his ear, "I think that you are going to have to accept that being a woman in country music means looking like every southern man's wet-dream, Sissy, and believe me, you do."

Chris felt his stomach turn. This aspect of the business had not occurred to him before. He glanced to his left to see himself in a mirror and he realized that Terry was right. The dress was pretty and 'down-homey" while also being revealing and sexy - showing just enough breast and leg to truly entice a man. His shoes were designed to attract attention, as well - four inch heals with little, feminine rhinestones everywhere. His makeup was pretty and appropriate for a warm day in early summer and his hair, done up like Terry's again, was about as girl-next-door as he could imagine.

He took Terry's hand to stand and found that he had no real problem standing. When he mentioned his surprise, the image consultant said, "Of course not. Those are $800 shoes. If you want style and comfort, you have to pay for it, but they are so perfect on you! You were born to wear clothes like this."

"I feel kind of funny," Chris said looking in the mirror. There was so much dress that he couldn't let his hands hang. He had to fold them in front of him. "It's like the dress has taken over and I'm just an accessory for it."

Margo came up and hugged him from behind. "I think you're beautiful, but I understand what you mean. You know how it is when you just let go and let the music control you?"

He nodded.

"That's when music really becomes art for you, right" she continued. "Now, you have to let fashion be part of your art and let it take you over, too."

"She's right," said the consultant. "This dress will make you pop off of TVs, computers, cell phones, iPads... and when you wear it on stage, the people in the last row will be able to find you at a glance. It's perfect for you."

Margo kissed his cheek and whispered, "You are adorable, baby. Your voice is unforgettable and your image will be unforgettable in this dress, too. Go with it, please."

"Ok," he sighed. In fact, he could not look away from the mirror. He knew he looked like a girl and all and he knew how pretty he looked dressed up for dinner a couple of times, but... wow. His breast looked so enticing and round and perfect. "No more tomboy-Chris, I guess."

Terry laughed, "I don't really remember a tomboy. Just my little Chrissie."

It was true. Chris was gone and Chrissie was here for good, now. Good riddance to the old, sloppy, lonely Chris, but he would have never pictured Chrissie - himself - looking this beautiful. Truly a music video fantasy of a woman. He stood straighter in the mirror and tried to picture himself on stage. He raised and lowered his arms a few time to check that his breasts were secure. He spun around to see how the skirt would spin and pictured doing that on stage, too. He turned to the consultant and his band mates and finally announced, "I guess I love it. I want us to make it and the Country-Glam-Babe-Look looks good to me."

They cheered and applauded his decision.

And then... it was video time

They had set up a studio in an old warehouse. There were two sets - one of a garage where the girls and Chris would act out how they rehearsed a song and another that looked like a stage at a concert arena.

The plan was to film the song in three sections to tell a story.

First rehearsing and working in the garage. While they were working, John would deliver pizza and his eyes would lock onto Gina's and, naturally, love at first sight.

Then, the band going to a fair and seeing John singing on stage. Their eyes meet again, and they have a little back story part of the video.

Finally, Dusty Rose performing on stage and, at the end, the audience glimpses John coming on stage to join them, thus setting up the video for "Broken Promises."

They had a blast filming the garage sequences. They didn't use any microphones in this section since it was just a quick 'getting to know who's who in the band' segment. They were told to just act like they had just met and were trying to create the band. The cameras rolled for more than two hours and Gina and Margo got pretty silly, making them all laugh. At one point, Gina made a rude remark about the cost of the panties that Chris had been wearing at the fitting. It made the other girls laugh and Chris feigned indignation before completely losing it and laughing as well. It was exactly the kind of 'we love each other' moment that would work in the video. The director said he had lots of footage from the shoot that morning.

That afternoon was spent at an actual fair grounds with a real fair going on. Again, they were just acting silly for a couple of hours and laughed a lot. They rode on dozens of rides, shared all kinds of fried foods and Gina even won a toy bear throwing softballs at stacked, wooden bottles. The director was satisfied again.

The next day was the concert footage. The band took the stage in the mock-arena and they lip-synched with the recording for hours. Chris felt like a silly, little princess at first, but as the morning wore on, he got used to the over the top dress and its fullness.

At 2:00, after a brief lunch break, they brought in about 200 extras to act as an audience. The director asked everyone to just be patient while they dealt with tech issues. He said it would be about an hour.

The crowd of extras was just milling around while the band was chatting amongst themselves, when from the stage right side of the room a group of about 15 young people started chanting, "Mar-go, Chris-tine! Mar-go, Chris-tine!" over and over.

Chris, who was talking to Grace didn't seem to notice until Terry said, "Hey, Sissy. I think you have a fan club here."

Margo was already at the edge of the stage, shielding her eyes to see past the lights, her bass hanging heavily from her neck and shoulders. As Chris joined her, suddenly Margo spotted the source of the chant and waved to Josephine and a group of her friends.

Chris spotted them, too, and called one of the security men, a tall, broad man with a shaved head and an imposing beard, over to the stage. He asked the man to please allow that group to come to the edge of the stage, but the man explained that keeping them from the stage was, in fact, his job.

"Can you help me down so that I can go say hi, then?"

The man shrugged and reached up to help Chris down. Chris leaned out and put his hands on the man's shoulders, while the man grabbed Chris by the waist, lifting him easily and swinging him out, over the monitors, and down onto the floor - raising Chris's dress and exposing petticoats and a little glimpse of panty to several people, including Josephine.

Chris made a face of exaggerated embarrassment as Margo laughed from the stage. Then he ran as fast as his heels would allow to Jojo and and her friends, smoothing this dress along the way.

All of the faces in Jojo's group were familiar to Chris. They had all been at the graduation party. "What are you guys doing here?" Chris hollered over the rumble of the crowd in the noisy warehouse space. He hugged each of them, ending with Joey's cousin Bucky.

"We wouldn't have missed it for the world!" Jojo said. "Mom and dad are over by the door with Eli."

Chris could not see over the heads of the crowd, so, learning from recent experience, he asked Bucky to lift him up so he could wave to them. Bucky complied, very eagerly, and held Chris as high as he could. "Uncle Willy! Auntie Sophie! Eli!" he called as loudly as he could as he waved with both arms.

They waved back and blew kisses as Bucky, reluctantly, lowered Chris back to the ground. Chris gave Bucky a peck of thanks on his cheek, then threw his arms around Jojo's neck. "Thank you so much for coming! This makes it so much more special!"

Jojo hugged Chris around his back, "We are thrilled to be here. Like daddy says, "We support family" and you are family, now"

Chris kissed her cheek again. "I better get back up there. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, though, ok? Love you!"

"Love you, too," Jojo called after Chris as he skipped back to his bearded, bald helper who lifted him back onto the stage.

Margo reached out to help, too.

Chris bounced joyously back to center stage.

"What was that all about?" Asked Terry.

"That's Jojo, Willy's daughter, and her friends that I met at the party. They came to support us."

Terry strained to see the group, but the lights were far too bright to make out anyone past the edge of the security area.

"Let's play for them," Chris wanted to play in the worst way. "We have instruments, amps, a PA system... let's play for them."

"I don't know," Terry was apprehensive. "Maybe we should wait till they're ready for us."

"Oh, poo on them," Chris pouted in a very girlish way, almost surprising his sister. "I want to play and they want to hear us. Let's play."

Margo, Gina and Grace laughed at Chris's impetuousness, while Terry marveled at this monster that she'd help create.

She turned to Margo and said, "Now I know how Dr Frankenstein felt when his monster developed a mind of his own."

Margo laughed at the joke and said, "Let her be. She's finally in her element. All we need to do is stick with her and hold on while she makes us look good."

Terry nodded and smiled as her shy-little-brother/brave-little-sister took command of the room.

"Hey, y'all" Chris shouted into the microphone, shocked that it was so loud. "Did I say that right? Y'all? I'm not from 'these parts' and we don't say y'all in New Jersey."

Some laughs and fake boos came from the audience.

"But we do play country music and, while they're dealing with the lights and cameras, we're going to play some songs for you, ok?"

A smattering of applause came from the extras with big whoops and shouts from team Jojo. Most of the extras had done many video shoots before and had a bit of disdain for the way the bands would just lip sink. They figured this was just a rehearsal for shoot, but as Dusty Rose kicked off the opening to 'Get Outta My Way' their interests were definitely piqued.

The balance was a little off. The drums mics weren't on at first. The bass was a little 'thunky,' but it quickly leveled out and this band that they'd never heard of, started kicking ass.

Chris's voice rose above the band,
"The day is here, I knew was always coming
And your lies cut through and make my poor heart break
I can feel your touch as it burns through with your deception And what I thought was real and true just turned out fake

And you say a little hurt
Is the price we have to pay
Just to have a little love
In the world we live today

I won't be a baby doll
In this little game you play
If you think that this love
Get outta my way

Don't you speak or try to stop me
Don't make a promise you can't keep
Don't try to tell me to be calm
Or to get some beauty sleep

I won't be your little girl
I won't be quiet or afraid
You're not my hero or my cowboy, so,
Get outta my way"

By the end of the song, the crowd was ecstatic. Cheering and screaming and dancing.

Everyone in the band was smiling.

"That's NOT the song we're doing today, though," Chris said to the crowd. "We're doing this one."

Gina clicked her sticks four times and they started. The crowd, who had been so revved up by the first song, was immediately enraptured by this glorious ballad. They watched and swayed. Hugged each other and some of the girls wept at the lyrics. As harmonies grew and the key moved a half-step higher, the crowd began clapping on beats two and four.

"Are you filming this!?" The director shouted into the headset of the camera operators.

"I sure as hell am!" Yelled back camera four.

"Me too!" Said camera one.

"I'm on it!" Said cameras two and three simultaneously.

The lighting wasn't exactly right. The angles hadn't been locked in and the director hadn't given Chris and the girls their final instructions, but the shot was perfect. There was genuine joy on the faces of the audience. They loved Dusty Rose and it was obvious that Dusty Rose loved playing for them.

When they finished, the audience went crazy. Unexpectedly, the director showed up on the stage and asked for quiet. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like to thank you for coming today. I thought you'd be here about three hours, but, wow, what a show you just got, huh? How about another round of applause for Dusty Rose!?"

The crowd showed their appreciation.

"I'm going to let you go, now. You can pick up your checks at the desk on the way out. Thank you for coming!"

Then he turned to the band. "Good God Almighty, girls! Wow! Just... Wow!"
 
Chapter 6
 

"Is your momma coming to see you in Jacksonville?" Sophie asked Chris. They were making three pies at the moment, apple, pecan and huckleberry, to go with the pork roast that was in the oven. Jojo and Margo had gone to the local food bank with a pickup truck full of early summer squash and peas. Chris had stayed behind to learn about baking and whatever else Sophie had to show him.

"I hope so. It's hard for her to get away with short notice, especially after coming down for the party the other night..."

"Like this, baby," Sophie said as she reached around Chris to instruct him on the nuances of pressing the recently rolled crust into the pie pan. Chris loved how she flowed through the kitchen and how she always smelled of plain soap and the foods she had been preparing that day.

"... it's a pretty small company and she hates to miss a day."Chris continued. "My sister and I are hoping that things go well for us so that mom can retire."

"That's sweet, honey, but you do need to look after yourselves, too. Make sure you don't give it all away."

Chris just nodded. He'd been hearing that a lot lately, but the fact was, he'd never even had a job in a grocery store before and now he had more money in the bank than his mom did. It all seemed pretty unreal to him.

"We're back!" Josephine called as she and Margo came through the kitchen door, she continued, "Reverend Adu says 'thank you' and he says that he'd be happy to take one of these pies off your hands if you are stuck with extras."

Jojo kissed her mother, then moved to Chris and kissed him, too.

Sophie snickered and said, "Ok. I'll send a few pieces over for him and his wife. That man's blood pressure is so high that he should stick to the vegetables."

As Jojo moved away, Margo came along and gave Chris a peck on the cheek. As she started to move away, Sophie said, "I beg your pardon, young lady."

Margo turned to see what the problem was and she found Sophie pointing to her own cheek. "When you come in to your Auntie Sophie's kitchen, you give your Auntie Sophie a kiss, too."

Margo's grin grew wide as she kissed Sophie's cheek. "I'm sorry, Auntie," she kidded.

"That's better.

Chris laughed as he wiped his hands on his apron and presented his apple pie to Sophie. "Is this ok?"

"It's perfect, baby. Now, let's put these into the oven and while they're baking, Joey, don't you have something to show your cousin, Christine?"

"I do," Josephine laughed and grabbed Margo's hand. "Come help me." Off they ran.

"What's that about?" Chris asked as he handed the pecan pie to Sophie.

"You know, Christine," Sophie stood, closed the oven door, put hands on Chris's shoulders and looked him straight in the eye, "I am very worried about you and Margo and the other girls - who I still haven't met."

One hand moved to his cheek, then played with his hair while she continued. "You have much more talent than you should at your age and when I saw you and the band, yesterday... well, darling, I was speechless. I could feel your joy and your ecstasy on the stage and it raised my spirits and broke my heart. But even though you look like a young woman, you are still a very little girl and I've seen too many people burn out and end up destroyed by fame. I don't want that to happen to you, baby. Do you understand?"

He nodded.

"Now, even though you girls will be out on the road alone, I want you to make me a promise. Promise me that you'll always remember that your mama and daddy are always right here, in your heart. You need to always be their little girl and always make them proud."

Another nod.

"And if you ever need your Uncle Willy or your Auntie Sophie, or any of your new cousins - you just call and we will be there as fast as we can."

Chris hugged Sophie and she hugged him back. "Auntie, I'm really scared."

"Of what, baby?"

"Of failing, Auntie. Everyone's counting on me to keep everything together and I don't know if I can."

Sophie led Chris to two chairs. They each took one and Sophie took Chris's hands in hers. "Remember how we made the pie crusts? We took one ingredient at a time and went one step at a time. Chrissie, baby, life is the same way - especially for women. Men have been the bigwigs since the beginning of time, but now, young girls like you are taking over the world. You have to be strong and petite. Willful and submissive. Brilliant and... well, I guess just brilliant. But women need to know they're loved, baby, and I want you to know that when I say you're family - I mean you're really and truly family. And, I swear, your Uncle Willy truly thinks of you as his niece - maybe even as a daughter. Your friends, your sister, your momma and Willy, me and the kids... we all love you, too. Will you promise me that, no matter what, you'll always remember that, and that you'll call if you need us?"

Chris nodded and hugged Sophie. "Thank you, Auntie. I love you, too."

Margo and Jojo had been waiting and watching in the doorway during a lot of the conversation. Both were touched by it, but Margo felt a few pangs of guilt in her stomach. She and Terry had, after all, laid a lot of this in Chris's lap. If he couldn't handle it, who could?

"Can we interrupt?" Jojo asked.

Sophie waved them in as she and Chris wiped a few tears from their eyes. Both Margo and Joey were carrying garment bags. They placed the bags over chair-backs. Jojo's smile was huge and infectious.

"What's all this?" Chris asked as his mood turned from trepidation to curiosity.

"Well," Jojo let out a huge sigh indicting a great deal of effort, "you know I was in the Fashion/Tailoring track at my technical high school, right. So, I was putting my portfolio together for college the other day and I took out some of my favorite dresses and I thought that some of them might fit you guys. I sent a text to Margo and got your sizes and I picked these out for you. Would you like to try them on?"

"Here," said Sophie helping Chris to his feet, "you'll need help getting into these. It's just us girls here, I'll help you and Jojo can help Margo."

Without having a moment to think, Chris was standing in Sophie's kitchen in just a bra and cheeky-shorts, very grateful for the gaff hidden beneath those panties.

There were two dresses for each of them. The first ones taken from the bags were very fancy; the kind of dress a star would wear to an awards show. Margo had a gold lame gown that was tight from the strapless top to her knees where the front opened, exposing her lower legs, then gradually flowed down and to the back creating a short, but elegant train behind her. "My goodness, Jo. I hope that we get invited to the Grammy's or the CMAs so that I can actually wear this. It's beautiful."

Chris's first dress was a lavender evening dress made of crushed velvet with a thin, silk lining. It had a top that clasped behind his neck, exposing his back nearly to the crack of his bottom and hung loosely over his breasts exposing substantial cleavage. The waist tapered and forced the top to blouse at the waist allowing the the skirt to flow loosely to just below his knees. "It's so elegant, Jojo. I love it. I wish I could wear it to dinner, tonight."

Josephine smiled at the praise, happy that her work was appreciated.

Josephine helped Margo out of her first dress while Chris turned his back to Sophie to have her undo the clasp. She did, but she said, "Don't take it off, yet. Wait till Margo's done."

The dress that Jojo handed Margo was a short, peasant dress. A neutral beige background with intricate needle work all over the surface of the dress. There was no zipper, it just slipped over her head and hung unevenly off of her shoulders. The sleeves were longer than her arms and ended in wide, floppy bells. The hem ended a good four or five inches above her knees.

Chris thought that Margo had never looked more beautiful than she did at that moment.

Margo rubbed the fabric. "It's so beautiful and so soft."

"It's a thin, brushed cotton. It's soft, like flannel, but thin so it hangs on your figure, shows all of your curves and can be worn in the summer." Jojo smiled. It really looked good on Margo's strong, curvy figure.

" I love it!" Margo said. "I wished that I'd had it when we took the album cover picture!"

"You can wear it for the next one," Sophie said.

"If there is one," said Chris with raised eye brows.

"Oh, just stop acting like a teenager, will you, please?" Sophie gave him a soft dope-slap on the back of his head. "Now, little girl, let's get you into your dress."

Sophie and Jojo helped him out of the dress he was wearing. Then, Jojo held up a very plain, light, cotton dress with almost no definition to it. They pulled it down over his head and fastened a clasp at the back of his neck. It came to just above his knees and was very soft. His breasts were on prominent display, more than Chris cared to display. It looked half finished.

"Do you like it?" Jojo asked.

"Umm..." Chris stuttered over his answer.

"Now, stop teasing," Sophie waved Jojo away, "that's just the underdress."

"Under-dress?" Chris asked.

"Yes," Jojo explained. "The dress is very sheer and you can see right through it, so you wear an under-dress with it. It can't be a slip because a slip has too much definition. An under-dress is plain and just gives the outer-dress color. I made two for this dress - one white and one red. Let's get the outer-dress on you. Close your eyes."

He did as instructed. He could hear the dress being taken from the garment bag and he heard Margo let out a little gasp as she saw it. Then he felt hands moving his arms and soft material being drawn across them, over his head and down his body. He could feel them fussing with the skirt and straightening out the hem of the garment.

"Keep 'em closed," Jojo teased, as he felt another rear neck enclosure being hooked and a sash being tied behind his back. He could hear whisperings,

"Joey, you out-did yourself. This is precious," from Margo

"It's beautiful, baby" from Sophie.

A giggle from Josephine followed by a, "Thank you."

"Can I open my eyes?"

"I think she's ready," Jojo said. "Ok, open your eyes."

When he did, he looked around at the three grinning females. The first thing that he noticed was the puffy, very short sleeves that formed little balls around his shoulders. The material was white with tiny red flowers printed on it, but barely opaque. He could see the skin of his shoulders and the underdress through the material. Where the underdress was visible, the flower pattern was more obvious.

Even though the material was so thin and nearly transparent, it made the plummeting neckline of the underdress more conservative and a bit playful. The sash, which was tied in a large bow in the back, pulled the dress flat across his midsection and accentuated his round breasts. From the waist, the skirt was very full and hung loosely to just below his knees. The three inches between the hem of the underdress and the hem of the overdress allowed a hint of his feminine knees to peak through.

"It's so soft," Chris spoke quietly. The material felt like gauze and, when he played with his skirt, it floated rather than fell back to its resting position.

"It's a cotton-gossamer material. You need to be very careful of it and, when the time comes for laundering it, only hand wash it with a delicate detergent," Josephine said. "Do you like it?"

"I do. I love it. Can I look in a mirror?"

"In a moment," Sophie said. Then to Margo she said, "Watch this. Chrissie, spin around a couple of times for us."

Chris did so and the dress spun too, but the light quality of the overdress made it move more slowly, more cloud-like than Chris and his underdress. It was as if it was animated onto him.

He heard Margo gasp, again. "That's so pretty."

"You did a wonderful job, Jojo," Sophie said. "I'm very proud of you. Take Chrissie to see herself in the mirror. I'm going to get the vegetables started."

Jojo led Chris and Margo to a closet near the front door and opened it to a mirror on the inside of the door. Both Chris and Margo admired themselves in the reflection.

"Wow," Chris swung the dress around his legs. "I've never met anyone who could do this kind of work. You're like the most talented person I ever met."

The snort that escaped Jojo was mixed with laughter. "Yeah, right!"

"I'm serious. Look at these dresses. They're beautiful." Chris was so enamored of the dress he was wearing that he could feel a stirring in his loins. Not as if he was growing, just a stirring. An excitement. It was so amazingly soft and feminine and he was inside it. Combine the feelings he had in this dress and the feelings he had wearing the performance dress that had been chosen for him and he felt so, so girly - vulnerable, beautiful and willing and happy to be so.

"She's right," Margo said. "You're very talented."

"Oh, please," Jojo was adjusting the back of Chris's dress to be sure it hung correctly. "Yesterday, I watched you guys blow away a couple of hundred people with your music and you expect me to think of myself as talented?"

"Joey," Chris said, "I couldn't do something like this is a million years. Thank you, so much, for these."

Eventually, the usual participants in the family meal arrived and took their seats around the table. Dinner was salad, the pork roast, fried zucchini with Sophie's home made tomato sauce, some mixed garden vegetables and, of course, pie for dessert. Margo and Chris had stayed in they're new dresses which Willy had pronounced, "divine."

When dinner was done, Willy rose from his seat at the head of the table. "Sophie, honey, can I seal my two new daughters for a few minutes apiece?"

"William," Sophie said, "you know that these girls have parents of their own and they don't need one of you fatherly chats. Just let them be."

Willy laughed at his wife. "Sorry, kitten, I can't do that and you know it. Young Ms Margo, would you mind coming with me for a few minutes?"

The two younger men at the table started laughing as Josephine, Carrie and Louise all started shouting, "Daddy, no! Not 'the talk!'"

Chris who had been sharing most of his meal with his favorite member of Willy's household, Emma, looked up, confused.

Margo, equally flummoxed, said, "What's 'the talk?'"

Louise took charge of the explanation. "Every time one of us girls goes away, and I mean EVERY TIME - Girl Scouts, sleep overs, slumber parties, camp, school trips - my honeymoon, for crying out loud - daddy gives us 'the talk.' He tells us how dangerous the world is for a woman, how we have to stay in groups, etc, etc, etc."

Carrie started singing in a sappy voice, "Sometimes its hard to be a woman..."

"Poor, poor, pitiful me..." took over Louise singing a different tune.

Josephine, Eli, Louisa's husband and Sophie applauded the singing, confusing Chris and Margo even more.

Willy smiled broadly, loving every minute of the ribbing, but determined to say what he felt needed saying. "Ms Margo, if you would accompany me to my office for a few moments..."

He offered his hand. Margo took it and rose to join him. They disappeared around the doorway and they all heard the click of Willy's office door.

"Don't worry, darling, its short and painless," Sophie said as she rose to clear the dirty plates. Chris and Willy's daughters also stood to help, but Louise said, "Not you Christine. I don't want you getting that pretty dress dirty. You just keep Emma occupied if you don't mind."

"Ok," he replied, happy to play with the toddler.

"You really did a great job on those dresses, Joey," Carrie said as she carried a pile of plates and silverware to the sink.

"Thanks," Jojo smiled. "I wish you guys could have heard Chrissie singing at the video shoot yesterday. She was incredible!"

Carrie, who was returning to the table, stopped and looked at the pretty little girl playing with her niece. How good could she possibly be? "Really? Are you as good as daddy thinks?"

His laugh sounded more nervous than he meant it to. "I don't think anyone's as good as you daddy thinks I am. I never met anyone as supportive as your daddy."

Everyone laughed, but Sophie spoke above the noise, "You know, a few days ago, I would have agreed with you, but, then, I heard you sing, yesterday. Girl, you are better than your Uncle Willy says. I've never seen a group as good as you girls."

Josephine sat next to Chris and played with Emma, too. "You know, part of me wishes you guys weren't so good."

Emma reached for Jojo and Chris handed her over, "Why?"

"Because summer has just started and you're leaving, soon. You'll probably be traveling all over the world in a few weeks and, maybe it sounds selfish, but I'm going to miss you."

"Really?" Why would anyone miss him?

"Yeah. You and Margo are fun to have around. Usually, I'm the youngest sister. I like having you here. I'll miss you both."

He smiled, uncertain as to how to respond.

Margo came back into the room, still looking gorgeous in her peasant dress, "Your Uncle wants to see you, RIGHT NOW!"

Willy's wife and daughters laughed.

Chris stood and straightened his dress. "What's this all about?"

She giggled, "Just some fatherly advice. He's just being nice." She kissed Chris on the cheek and sent him down the hall.

He knocked softly on the door.

"Come on in, honey," Willy's husky voice cut through the walls.

Chris opened the door, entered and closed the door. Willy was standing when Chris came in. He came around his desk and looked at Chris. "Well, young lady, you sure look beautiful in that dress."

Chris smiled, "Thank you."

"Come here." Willy pulled Chris into a warm, affectionate bear-hug and kissed the crown of his head. As he held the pretty, little boy he said, " You know that a lot can happen when you're seventeen and out in the world by yourself, don't you?"

Chris, enveloped in the big man's arms, replied, "Yes."

"It's hard for a boy. It's harder for a girl and it's harder still for a girl like you, Chris. The other day, I told you that your momma and daddy will always me with you and so will your Uncle and Auntie, and I mean that, but I want you to promise me something that I make every one of my daughters promise me whenever they go away." He released Chris from the hug and looked him straight in the eyes.

"What's that?"

"Promise me that, whenever you find yourself in a situation and you need to make a decision, you will think to yourself, 'Will this decision make my family proud?' That goes for everything - alcohol, drugs, sex, even the clothes that you wear to represent yourself. Always think, 'Will this make my family proud?' Understand."

"I do, Uncle Willy. I understand."

"Good," Willy let go of Chris's shoulders and walked back to sit at his desk. "I know that sounds like a lot of pressure, honey, but you need to remember that you're just seventeen and seventeen year old children are not known for making good decisions. Years from now, I hope that you will look back at your teens and twenties without any major regrets."

"I understand, sir."

Willy breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Now, you know your daddy loved you and, no matter what happens or what you ever do, your momma, Sophie, my children and I will always love you, too, but, baby, it's a hard world, full of pitfalls. Try to avoid them, ok?"

"Yes, sir."

"Sir...? I'm not scolding you Christine, I just... need to say these things to you. It's my responsibility."

Chris smiled and nodded, uncertain as to what to say.

"Now, one more thing and this is probably something that is none of my business."

He paused and considered his words before continuing, "Margo is a beautiful and fine young lady. I have come to be very fond of her - I don't think of her a my own child, but I do think of her as my own child's girlfriend. You see what I'm saying?"

"I do," Chris's eyes were watery.

"Now, two young ladies who have strong feelings for each other and are left alone, unsupervised, in the same hotel room for weeks on end... well, I'm sure that your relationship has gone beyond hand-holding and, like I said, that's none of my business."

Chris looked away for a moment, uncomfortable with the conversation and embarrassed.

"You know that, for me and Sophie and the rest of the world, you will always be Chrissie - our little girl, but if there is even the remotest possibility that my beautiful, new daughter, who is looking so angelic, standing in front of me, can get Miss Margo pregnant, then my little girl better think like a responsible man every now and again. You understand me, young lady?"

Willy's words were hard, but sincere and, as much as he didn't want to ever think of himself as anything other than Chrissie again, he knew that Willy was right and that what he'd just said really did need to be said. Chris mustered his strength and raised his head to meet Willy's gaze. He blinked away the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes and strained to form a smile. "I understand, Uncle Willy. I'm sorry and I understand." Finally the tears raged forth, reducing Chris to sobs."

Willy moved as quickly as his large body would allow to comfort him against his chest. "You have nothing to apologize for, baby. Just be careful, that's all I'm asking."

"It's not that, Uncle. It's... it's just that I didn't know how to be the person I used to be and I am struggling to know who I am, now. The only time I feel like I'm who I'm supposed to be is when I'm singing or alone with Margo or when I'm here with you and Auntie. Other than that, I'm scared to death and I feel like a fraud." He pushed away from Willy's embrace and smiled up at the kindly man who'd just told him that he viewed Chris as a daughter. "I'm sorry that I dragged you into my... bazaar life. That's all."

"Baby, everyone's life is a mess. That's what living is all about. You'll see, it'll come together for you. Just stay strong and make good choices, ok?"

"Ok," Chris nodded, breathed deeply, wiped his eyes and smiled at the relief of talking to Willy.

When they returned to the kitchen, the women were all finishing cleaning up. Sophie took one look at Chris and pulled him into a hug. "William Elias! Did you make this child cry!? What is wrong with you!?"

Before Willy could defend himself, Chris said, "No, Auntie, it was just me. I'm very nerved up about everything and I just unloaded on my kindly uncle. I shouldn't have, but I needed to."

"Oh... well... alright, then," said Sophie.

Suddenly, Chris was surrounded by Margo, Jojo and her sisters, who formed a line with Chris and Margo at the center. "Hold your fingers like this, honey," Louise said. She formed the three fingered, scout-salute with her right hand and everyone, including Chris, followed suit.

"Now, repeat after me, 'I solemnly swear.'"

"I solemnly swear."

"That, whenever I am away from home."

"That whenever I am away from home."

"And I have a decision to make."

"And I have a decision to make."

"I will think to myself."

"I will think to myself"

"All together now..." and they all joined in, "Will this decision make my family proud?" And they all burst into gales of laughter.

Willy laughed, too, but shouted above the laughter, "Make fun of me all you want, but look at the fine women standing before me. I can take some teasing if this is the result!"

That caused even more laughter as everyone pushed into a group hug with Willy at the center of it.
 
Chapter 7
 

It wasn't quite 9:00 when Chris and Margo got back to the hotel, that night. They decided to come back early because tomorrow was the rehearsal for video shoot for "Footsteps" and Chris was a little nervous. The suite, as they expected, was dark. None of the others had come back, yet.

Margo flicked the light switch and led Chris into the common room. "I think I'm going to put on my pjs and watch some TV. How about you?"

When she turned to look at Chris, he was right behind her and surprised her with a kiss. She smiled and they kissed again and again, each time with more passion.

When they finally separated, Margo held Chris at arms length to look at him in the dress that Jojo had designed. "You look amazing in that dress. I can't believe someone my age designed it and made it."

"It is pretty, but I've been going crazy every time I look at you in THAT dress. You are the sexiest thing I have ever seen."

Margo smiled and stepped back, holding Chris's hands in hers. Her smile got a little sad. "Did Willy talk to you about us?"

Chris nodded.

"He's right, you know. An unexpected pregnancy would not only mess up the band, it could mess up my life. I'll talk to my doctor back home about getting on birth control, but until then..."

Another nod.

"Did you know that he knew?"

"Just since a couple of days ago. I was going to tell him, but he already knew."

Margo shrugged, "I don't know how he knew, but we need to make sure no one else ever finds out."

"I know. He figured it out early on. I'm more careful, now."

They kissed, again. Margo gave a great, heaving sigh, "Arrg, this is so frustrating, but he's right, he's right."

Chris pulled his hands free to grip the sides of the skirt of his outer dress, gave a deep curtesy, then descended to his knees in front of Margo, reaching under her peasant dress to pull down her panties. "We can't do everything, but I can relieve your frustration. He lifted the hem of the dress, revealing Margo's shaved vagina.

Margo giggled. "That will help. I do love your 'blowjobs.' It's nice to have such an accommodating girlfriend."

Chris smiled and hummed his laugh at Margo's joke. His tongue went to work, slowly at first, but picking up speed and searching deep within her. Her knees began to tremble and she had no choice but to grip his head to remain upright. She began to buck softly toward him to encourage his tongue to dive deeper. "Oh!" She moaned and he could feel her shudder as her first orgasm racked her body. He worked harder and faster, trying to make her reach new heights. "Oh... oh... oh... oh... YES!!" She let out a monumental shout as she grabbed the back of Chris's head and held him as deeply as possible until her trembling subsided.

Her eyes were closed and her head bowed when she heard a laugh and a shout of, "Oh my God! I'm sorry!" Followed by more, almost delirious laughter.

Margo's eyes shot open and she pulled back from Chris, pulling her peasant dress down around her hips and nearly tripping on the panties that were still around her ankles.

It's was Gina. She'd come in without them hearing and was now leaning, nearly collapsed, against the wall, her hand over her mouth and her face red from embarrassed laughter. "I'm sorry," she guffawed, "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to..." She slammed her mouth shut, stood straighter , cleared her throat, controlled a smile that wanted to turn into a laugh and repeated, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I just came back to grab a sweatshirt before we go to a barbecue and... well, I never expected... and I certainly never expected it to be Chris on his knees..." Again, she worked hard to control her nervous laughter.

Margo gathered what dignity she could and pulled her panties back up as discreetly as possible. Then she helped Chris, who was still on his knees and had done his best to wipe his mouth clean, to stand. She put her arm around his shoulder and turned him to face Gina. "Umm.." she took a deep breath and shook her head, "no, I'm sorry. We, umm... we were being careless. I'm sorry. We, umm... yeah... I don't know what to say."

Chris was horribly embarrassed and couldn't find any words, but he tried, "Gina, you... you won't tell Terry, will you?"

"Oh, baby-cakes," Gina laughed some more as she skipped to hug both of her band mates, "I won't say anything, but you do know that everyone knows, right? I mean, we know you're together."

More laughter, but she was calming down.

Chris calmed. The hug and Gina's kiss on his cheek helped, too. She took his chin in her hand and turned his face up to meet her smile. "There's nothing wrong with two people loving each other, baby."

Chris smiled back at her, then he had a thought, "Then why did you laugh at us?"

Gina thought for a moment and guffawed her big Italian-girl-from-New Jersey laugh, again, and said, "I don't know! I guess I was just so caught off guard and embarrassed that I didn't know what else to do, so, I laughed!"

She kissed them both, then ran to her room.

Margo hugged Chris tightly, "Oh, well. It could have been worse. She could have had John with her."

Chris laughed a little at that thought. "I guess."
 
Chapter 8
 

"Can we, maybe, not have camera operators right here, on the front of the stage? It will block our view of the audience and their view of us." Chris was back on stage with the girls. They were preparing to film the video for "One Less Set of Footsteps" and the rehearsal was getting more stressful than the Dusty Rose members had expected. Chris had very specific ideas about how this 'concert video' needed to look and so did the director. The problem was, the director wasn't listening to Chris's ideas. The director became dismissive of him, implying that Chris was too young, too inexperienced, too female, etc. Chris had grown belligerent as a result and Terry had been trying to calm him down. This last question didn't seem at all unreasonable to the girls, Chris had, after all, understood much more about the business than any of them had.

Chris was regretting his choice of clothes today. It was comfortable, but made him look too young in this situation. It had gotten very hot in Nashville and he knew it was going to be a long day, so Chris had chosen a plain, olive green romper that had spaghetti straps that held up a blousy top and little, white flip-flops with a little flower between the toes. He'd also stopped in at the salon and had his hair braided again. The others were all wearing shorts and tee shirts and sandals with various heel heights. Even when they'd headed out that morning, Chris caught a glimpse of all of them in a lobby mirror and and it occurred to him that he looked like the baby of the group, which, of course, he was, but, now that he needed to be 'the guy in charge,' he felt that he was being dismissed because he looked more childish than he should.

"No," the exasperated voice of the director called from the darkened, empty civic center, "we can't remove the camera operators from the front of the stage. We need the coverage."

"But, you have coverage from the floor and you can take the long shots in closer. No one needs to see the pours in my skin! I read that when The Bangles filmed the 'Walk Like an Egyptian' video, there were no cameras anywhere near the stage and you can see Susanna Hoffs' eyes leaping off the screen. These will just be in the way! I won't be able to see the audience and they won't be able to see the band!" Chris pleaded with the director.

"LOOK!" shouted the hipster-wannabe with his obnoxious chin beard and ironic, knit, wool hat that had no function in Nashville in late May other than to scream to society, 'Look at me! I'm an douche-bag.' "I was hired to make you talentless little twats look like stars and that's what I plan to do whether you like it or not!"

Everyone in the band stood and moved forward around Chris. "What did you just call us!?" shouted Gina as she ran forward with her sticks clenched in the fist of her left hand and the forefinger of her right hand pointed directly at the director. "Did you just call us 'talentless'!?"

That actually made Margo and Terry laugh a bit. They knew that Gina was sincere, but it was the 'twat' remark that had made the rest of them angry.

"Get your hipster butt up here, jackass," Gina continued to shout, "I'll show you who's untalented! You Starbucks drinking jerk!"

"All right, all right!" Terry shouted. "Everybody calm down." She turned to Margo and, in a quieter voice, said, "See if you can reach Allan on the phone."

Margo nodded and pulled out her phone, but the director continued to engage, "Call anyone you want, little girl, but this is my set and my shoot. Do what I say or get your asses back out on the streets and find yourselves a good pimp..."

"What the hell is going on in here!" was suddenly shouted from the back of the civic center. It was too dark to see that far, but the band knew the voice. It was Allan Bennett, right on cue.

Gracie, who had put her instrument into a stand long ago and was wearing yoga pants for this rehearsal, hopped down to the floor level and jogged over to Allan. Grace was currently, without question, the most level headed member of the band and certainly the coolest person in the room at the moment.

"Hi, Allan," she said, "We're having a problem with the logistics for the video. See, there's so much equipment on the front of the stage that the audience won't be able to see us and Chrissie is concerned that her performance won't be authentic because she won't be able to work the crowd, you know what I mean?"

"Uh-huh," Allan nodded and turned to the director, "and what do you think?"

"Can I ask a question," the director asked. Allan nodded, again.

"Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my space?"

Allan smiled at the director and said, "I need to ask a question, now." He looked around and found a young woman, twenty-five-ish, light brown skin and a tee-shirt with a picture of Sheryl Crow on it. "You, young lady. Do you know who I am?"

She nodded, "Yes, sir, Mr Bennett, I know who you are."

Allan glanced at the director - still no sign of recognition.

"What's your name?"

The young woman shifted from one foot to the other, "Amanda, Mr Bennett."

"And what's your job right now, Amanda?"

"I'm the director of photography, Mr Bennett."

"And what do you think about the cameras on the stage, Amanda"

She glanced from the director to Allan and back again before answering. "To tell the truth, sir, I think that there's way too many cameras here. I think we could do everything we want to do with four, five or six cameras and a crane or a drone. Right now, we have twelve standard cameras and twelve robo-cams set up. I think that the little girl over there is right, the cameras and operators will be in the way when we bring in an audience. But... that just my opinion, sir."

"Uh-huh." Alan mused. He turned to the stage and called the girls down. As they gathered, Allan handed Grace a manila envelope and told her to open it and read it to everyone.

Grace looked the page over and read it out loud without much conviction: "Release number 19478. Units sold 1,268,745. Placement first Release number 19477. Units sold 1,167,733. Placement two.
What does this mean?"

'It means," Allan said, "release number 19477, also known as "In His Eyes" has officially gone platinum and is the number 2 song on the country charts this week..."

The faces on Chris and the girls indicated that they were ready to burst, but Allan had more to stay.

"Aaaannnndddd it means that release number 19478, also known as, "One Less Set of Footsteps" has officially also gone platinum and is the NUMBER 1 song on the country charts this week - Aaaannnndddd both songs have made it into the Top 40 at number 3 and number 6! As of this moment, ladies, you are bonafide stars! Congratulations!"

The girls screamed and hugged Chris and Allan. There was bouncing and yelling and there were a few tears of joy! How could this be happening!?!? Chris was absolutely in shock.

When the noise subsided, Allan turned back to Amanda, "Do you think you're ready to direct your first video?"

Again, her eyes flittered to the director for a moment and back to Allan, "Yes, sir, I am and I won't let you down."

"I know you won't, Amanda. You see the pretty little thing in the olive green romper?" Amanda nodded. "That's Christine. She is our golden goose, you understand? When she she asks for something, you give it to her, you got it?"

Amanda smiled. "I got it, sir."

"Great," Allan laughed, "and my name is Allan. Please - just Allan."

Then he turned to the director, "and as for you..."

"Mr Bennett, I didn't know..."

"I know and if we were just about the cameras, I'd be willing to have a conversation about a compromise. Unfortunately, though, when I came in, I heard you refer to these lovely, young ladies using some pretty derogatory terms, didn't I? That seems pretty ungentlemanly to me. So, let's do this - Why don't you get your talentless ass back out on the street where YOU belong."

The director looked around, embarrassed. "Mr Bennett, I'm really..."

"STOP!" Allan was uncharacteristically angry. "I don't want to hear another word. If you leave now, without saying another word, I'll never hire you again. If you even grunt, though, I will make it impossible for you to ever direct another music video, again."

Then, he turned to the girls and Chris, " Come on, ladies. Let's go have a nice lunch while Amanda resets the cameras.

The director stormed out as Amanda called after Allan and the band, "Thank you, Mr Bennett! Girls, if you need anything at all, just let me know!" Then she turned to the crew and took control, "Alright, guys. Let's get those cameras off the stage and move all of this gear back. I want four long shots up there, two of the robo-cams behind the stage. Jack, find me two good angles on the drummer and you, you and you find a place back here where you can each pick up one of the girls with instruments. We'll pick up the singer in the long shots..." As the door closed behind Allan and the band, they could still hear the echoes of Amanda's directions back in the hall.

"Yes, mommy, please try to get time off for Jacksonville. Chris and I really would love you to be there. We'll pay for everything. Yeah, but we can. Mommy, they've both gone platinum! We have the money, I swear! Ok. I love you, too. Let me know. Bye, bye." She pressed the 'end' button on her phone.

Terry turned to Chris, "Mom says that she's heard both songs on the radio all week. She says that everyone at the agency has bought the album and that she loves the first video, too. Chrissie, I've never heard her so excited!"

"That's great, " Chris said. "I'm glad she's happy! I wish she was here to see all of this!"

"My dad is nuts! He was crying on the phone because he was so happy!" said Margo

"My parents can't believe it," Grace said. "My mom still thinks I'm trying to learn how to play 'Horse a With No Name' in my bedroom."

Gina laughed, "Mine are the same way. My grandmother just said, 'Well, I'm glad that all that banging in the basement is finally paying off. I think she meant it to be a compliment."

Everyone laughed. Margo turned to Allan, "So, about this new director...?"

"I wasn't just picking 'anybody,' I knew Amanda was a good choice. Our VP in charge of Video Production told me that she was grooming Amanda to become a director. So, I expect she'll do a great job for you. If she doesn't, we'll fix it."

"She sure seemed ready to take over," Terry laughed. "I already like her better than the first guy."

"I liked Frank, the guy that directed the video for 'In His Eyes.' He had a lot of enthusiasm." Chris said.

"What happened to him?" Grace asked.

"Different day/different people," Allan said. "It's the nature of the business and, by the way," he turned to Chris, "I admire your integrity, but you need to get better at working WITH people - not just demanding."

"Yes, sir, Mr Bennett," Chris nodded, "but..."

"That guy was an asshole." Gina said matter of factly.

"Gina!" scolded Grace.

"What? He was!"

"Still... have some manners. Mr Bennett is our boss."

"Tsk," Gina dismissed the scolding with a wave of her hand.

"Gracie," Allan said, "I am not your boss, I'm your producer and collaborator. Yes, I own the company, but, please, never think of me as your boss. Now, Gina, I try hard to not swear, but I certainly swore like a sailor when I was your age. The thing is, though, it is a good business practice to be careful of what you say. We've already sent out your press-package and your first TV performance is on Fallon in a few days. Y'all need to remember that if a guy slips up and swears on TV, he comes off as either tough or stupid, but if a girl swears on TV, she comes off as cheap. I know that's a double standard, but it is a fact and you need to keep it in mind at all times. So, if I can give you a little advice, whenever you're out in public, watch your tongue. Ok?"

Gina leaned over and shook Allan's hand, "Point taken, Allan. I'll watch my f-ing language."

Allan laughed and looked to Gracie, "Well, it's a start, I guess. Freaking Jersey-girls."

The waitress brought five small salads and a chicken salad sandwich to the table. "Could we get another pitcher of sweet tea, please?" Grace asked and the waitress said she'd bring it right over.

They dug into their food until Gina started laughing. "Girls, we're gonna be rich!"

They all smiled and burst into laughter, too.

"What have I been saying for the past ten weeks!?" Allan said.

The waitress left a new pitcher in the middle of the table. Allan grabbed the pitcher and filled everyone's glasses. "Ladies, I'd like to make a toast." They all grabbed their glasses and held them aloft while Allan continued. "Here's to the most unlikely star I have ever met: Christine. You, little girl, have made my job very easy and surprised me at every turn. No matter what happens, always remain this surprising young woman before me. To Chris!"

"To Chris!" they echoed.

As they drank, Chris held his glass high, "To all of you. Mr Bennett, thank you for making this all possible. Gina, Margo and Gracie, thank you for accepting me and teaching me how to, you know, be a girl. And Terry, I love you so much, Sissy and I'm so glad we're doing this together - as sisters."

"To sisters!" Terry shouted!

"To sisters!" Everyone echoed.

They drank their tea and shook with excitement. All they needed to do now was finish this video, do the video with John, appear on Jimmy Fallon, perfect their 30 minute opening act and keep things moving. Sure - they could do that. Right?
 
Chapter 9
 

It was different when they took the stage to film this video. This time, the audience applauded. They knew who Dusty Rose was! They'd heard the two songs that had been released and some of them knew the whole album. The band members all smiled as broadly as possible and waved to the audience. They were actually excited to see the band.

Chris was feeling good about this shoot, now. Amanda had agreed to make this a true concert-video, so they were going to actually play the song four times for this audience and record the performances to create a video. They'd worked hard late into the evening the night before to prepare for this and for the performance with Lady Antebellum and everyone was ready to go.

He also felt good about how he looked. He was wearing the thin white dress that Jojo had made for him, this time with the red under-dress. He'd picked up a nice pair of red pumps to go with it. Pretty and fresh make up with red lips that popped off of his face and his hair was similar to Terry's but different enough so as not to be silly. He'd asked for the back of his hair to be loosely curled and to have some body in it. It looked great. He was happy, confident and, according to Allan, he'd just made his first half-million dollars. They were become a phenomenon and, although he'd dreamed of making as a singer, he'd never actually believed it would happen and he never once expected it would happen with him looking like this.

"Hi, everyone," Chris called into the microphone. "Thanks for coming out, today, to help us make this video.

A big cheer rose from the crowd. Just before going on stage, he'd found out that there were no extras in this crowd. They'd put out a call for people to come in for the shoot and the crowd were actually fans of the band who'd wanted to see and hear them.

"We are Dusty Rose," more cheers, "and this is Gina, Margo, Gracie, my sister Terry and I'm Chrissie and we're here to make some noise for y'all!"

"You rock, Chrissie!" Was shouted by a number of people from the stage left side of the front of the stage.

Chris looked to see who'd called his name and he saw Josephine, Louise, Eli, Tony, Carrie, Bucky and a whole group of familiar faces from Josephine's party waving up at him. Chris ran on his tip toes to the edge of the stage and thanked them for coming, then asked security to allow Jojo onto the stage. Once he got her up, her brought her to the microphone and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, I want to introduce you to my other sister, Josephine. She designed and made this dress for me. How about a round of applause for Jojo!?"

Again a huge round of applause.

Jojo's bow and smile made it all worth it, but the hug that she gave was so warm and sincere that it made Chris happy to have her in his life. Last night, he'd had an epiphany and he'd taken stock of everything that he had been given. Growing up, it was rare that he ever set foot in a church - his dad's funeral was the last time - but he realized that he was truly blessed to be where he was.

"Thank you, so much," she gushed.

"You deserve it," Chris shouted back to her above the crowd noise. "I love my dress."

"You look beautiful! I love you, so much!" She yelled as she kissed his cheek and gave him another big squeeze.

"I love you, too!" He yelled as she turned and ran back to the side of the stage where Bucky and one of her friends from the party helped her back down to the floor.

Suddenly, a male voice boomed through the PA system, "Alright, everyone," it was Mark's voice, he'd been brought in to record the sound on video now that it had become a "live" shoot, "we'd like to start recording the video. So, can I get a big cheer from the crowd to test my levels?"

A big cheer rose and Mark did what he needed to do.

While Mark continued his last minute adjustments, checking the instrument levels, etc, Chris glanced to the right and saw two men standing in the shadows on the edge of the stage. It was Allan and Willie. He strode over to them and accepted a hug from Allan.

"You look amazing, little girl. So grown up and beautiful. You'll knock 'em dead, I'm sure!"

Allan kissed his check as he released Chris. "Thank you, Mr Bennett and thank you for all of this."

"Once again," Allan smiled, "it's a great idea, but I would never do it with another band this early in their career. Dusty Rose just keeps breaking the mold for me, though!"

Chris smiled appreciatively, then turned to Willie and gave him a big hug and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Uncle Willie"

Willie laughed, "Me? I didn't do anything."

Chris smiled. "You did everything. Last night, I realized what you'd been telling me."

Willie patted Chris's hair and smiled back. "That you're a beautiful woman?"

Chris blushed a bit a the compliment. "That I'm only seventeen and I am very blessed to be where I am. That I am happy with who I've become and that I am loved by a lot of people."

"Well, anyone could see that from the outside, but sometimes it's hard to stay focused when you're in the middle of struggling with your own life. Anyway, you look different, today. Better. And you know that you can come home to your auntie and me anytime that things get to be too much, right? You're a part of our life now - and forever."

"I know and I will be back as soon as I can. Right now, though, this is where I belong and, here, onstage and with my friends - I feel... right. Thank you for helping me become a woman, Uncle Willie."

Willie shook his head. "What happened to you, angel. Just the other day you were a scared little girl. Where did all this come from?"

"Last night, we rehearsed until around midnight, then we all went up to the rooftop of the hotel and sat and looked at the stars. Just the five of us. We haven't really been alone with just the five of us for weeks. After a while, we started talking about where our lives are right now and, you know, what might happen - good and bad stuff. Anyway, I realized that no one was holding me responsible for making it all work. No one would hate me if it didn't. And that I loved them all and they loved me. So, no matter what, it'll be ok."

"That's my girl," Willie hugged him again.

"Hey, Sissy, are you deaf?" Terry called to Chris. "We're ready to start. Marks been calling you on the PA."

"Oops!" He said as he stretched higher to kiss Willies' cheek, "gotta go. Love you!"

"Love you, too, sugar."

And with that, Chris took the stage, standing straight and beautiful in the white dress with the red underdress, his hair and makeup looking perfect and his lipstick color popping off of his face. The cheers grew and he waved to the audience with both of his perfectly manicure hands, then grabbed the microphone and, listening to the click-track in his earpiece -monitor, shouted out, "One... Two... One, two, three, four."

The End...
 
For now.