FicWad

*******
At long last, the day was here. Finally, after weeks and weeks of planning and preparation, it was time for the benefit concert!

The publicity continued to spike leading up to it. We did two more joint interviews with the other bands and both went off without a hitch. Pizzazz, Jem, and Riot even made the cover of one news magazine. We had great radio and print coverage. One TV station was going to broadcast the show live, which meant terrific exposure. And the fees they were paying would help us ensure that we broke even on the costs of the event and that both charities would receive handsome checks.

A few days before the concert, we had a meeting with the other two groups. All was on track. Jerrica Benton told us that 90% of the tickets were sold. It was a bit disappointing that it wasn't sold out but Jerrica also had on hand some articles with the current economic forecast and unemployment statistics. Let's just say that given these forces beyond our control, we were lucky the tickets had sold as well as they did.

Also at that meeting, we needed to determine the starting order - which band would play first, second, and third. Pizzazz, Jem, and Riot all drew numbers out of a hat as we sat down and watched nervously. No one wanted the dreaded first spot.

As it turned out, the Stingers drew to play first, the Misfits second, and Jem and the Holograms third. The four of us Misfits looked at each other. Well, we were relieved that we wouldn't have to open, but it was a disappointment that we didn't get the coveted last spot. (I tell you, Jem and her group always have the best luck!)

I looked at the Stingers and, oddly none of them looked as upset as I would be if I had drawn to play first. They looked fine. Good for them, I thought still thrilled that the Misfits wouldn't have to be the warm-up act.

We Misfits had been rehearsing with more attack than ever. No one needed to be coaxed into the long hours we spent in the studio. We were united in our pursuit of a perfect set. Some of the songs, like "Talkin' It All" and "Makin' Mischief", we had been playing for so long, but we injected new life into them, varying parts of the instrumentation and sometimes the lyrics. Everyone's playing was in such top form and Pizzazz's voice as awe-inspiring as ever, that we were actually pumped at the end of our sets. We'd often hit the town for an evening out afterwards (a less-wild evening than our earlier days but we still had fun).

We ordered new clothes for the concert. The designer came to the mansion one day to take our measurements. The outfits were all variations on a theme, so they were similar but varied. (We have several such coordinated outfits). They were basic black with a few bold colors thrown in. We wanted to stand out, and we figured that Jem and the Holograms would wear their trademark pastels and the Stingers their black and yellow colors. (We made sure that none of ours were black and yellow). We met with the set designers to ensure that the back drop on stage would meet our specifications too, and not clash with our outfits.

On the day of the concert, we splurged on a limo. I looked out as we approached the Gen Corp Arena and gasped at the sight of our band's name in lights. It flashed on the electronic billboard along with the other groups. As we were driven in, we could already see cars crowding the parking lot even though there were several hours to go before the show. We glimpsed fans wearing Misfits T-shirts, jackets, and caps. One shirt I caught a glimpse of was a frayed, black T from our first album's era. Vendors were already standing off to the sides, selling posters and such.

"This is awesome!" Roxy exclaimed.

"I'm so excited!" I added. "A concert in front of so many people again!"

"With more media coverage than we've gotten in years," Pizzazz said, sounding as content as the cat who'd just dined on her mouse. "This place will be full of reporters."

"This is such a coup," Jetta added. "I can hardly wait!"

I looked at their faces. Sometimes their nervousness and excitement can get translated into aggression, which can turn on us. (Who am I kidding? Too much aggression has been our downfall countless times). But they seemed well today, with a happy sort of excitement.

We were escorted to the large backstage area. I knew the layout well as we had played this venue more than once, albeit years ago. The backstage area was filled with stage hands and various other workers scrambling to make sure everything went off without a hitch. Several reporters with press passes walked around, and we saw a camera crew arrive on the scene too. I was surprised to see such attention this early. Wow - the publicity machines at Stinger Sound and Starlight Music really came through!

We were walking towards our dressing room when I spotted Craig. He had arrived with the Holograms. We ran towards each other and hugged.

"Today's the big day! Sis, you'll be great," he said.

"Awww, thanks," I said, hugging him so tightly that he was squeezed. Things had been so awkward between us lately but today was going to be a glorious day no matter what. As usual, Craig released the hug before I did.

"So, do you have your seat assignment?" I asked.

"Yeah, front row, right next to Anthony Julian and near several Starlight girls. Being the boyfriend of a Hologram and brother of a Misfit has its advantages," he said, smiling. I later heard that other prime seats had gone to more friends of Jem and the Holograms, such as Danse, Video, Regine, and Astral. Of course Rio had a seat too and a half dozen or so of Raya's family were there as well. I noticed how the Misfits were a bit more like the Stingers in one regard: neither band had too many friends outside of the group. The Stingers had closed ranks as we had. (Clash was still on the outs with Pizzazz since her last two missteps. We hadn't seen her for ages).

Craig then added, "Did you know that one of the magazines wants to interview me? Because of the ties I have to both bands."

"Really? It's not 'Cool Trash', is it?" I asked, unsure if the tabloid was even still in business.

"Nah. Aja said this one was okay and they wouldn't be dishing up dirt."

"Wow, Craig, you're a star too!"

He smiled, and then his tone changed. "Hey, Mary, did your group get a letter from the Department of Communications?" he asked, sounding very serious all of a sudden.

"No," I said.

"Aja was telling me this morning that Jem and the Holograms received a letter, via certified mail, just yesterday. It told them that at tonight's show they can't perform certain songs."

"Really? Which ones?"

"They're not allowed to perform `Let Me Take You to the Mardi Gras'. The letter just said something about Mardi Gras - the event, not the song - being 'corrupt and licentious'. So they're not allowed to 'advocate' it."

I made a face, and Craig continued. "They also can't do 'Come on in the Water's Fine' because the lyrics are too 'provocative', and they have to leave out one line in....which one was it? The one that has the line `Is he making love to a fantasy'".

"Oh. `Who Is He Kissing?'" I supplied the song title. My head was spinning. "That just seems so weird! To stop them from playing their own songs. They seemed pretty innocent to me. But no...I'm certain we haven't received anything telling us what we can perform." And I was positive that we hadn't. In Eric's absence, Jetta and Pizzazz read through that type of correspondence - I sometimes took a look as well.

"I'm glad you haven't. Aja was pretty steamed about it. Not that I blame her."

"I don't either! I would be too."

Craig and I chatted for a bit longer, and then Aja came up to us. We wished each other good luck, and I then caught up with the rest of the Misfits in our dressing room. I shook away disquieting thoughts about bands being required to change or leave out some songs. Tonight was going to be a good one and I was determined to enjoy it.

I smiled at the sight of a champagne bucket that had been placed inside the room.

"Who's this from?" I asked.

Pizzazz answered, with that dopey smile on her face that immediately enabled me to guess who sent the champagne. "It's from Riot. The card says `Best wishes. Here's to the union of our three bands!'"

"Awww," Roxy said, dripping with sarcasm. I nervously looked at her and then Pizzazz, worried they might go at it again over Riot. Fortunately, both seemed in too good of a mood.

"Let's wait until after the show to enjoy this, shall we?" Jetta suggested.

"After we conquer the audience," Pizzazz said.

We started to put on our costumes and make-up. Then my ears perked up as we heard a knock on the door. I wasn't expecting it and gasped.

Jetta, closest to the door, answered it. I looked over my shoulder and saw that it was a delivery of some sort.

"Look at this!" Jetta exclaimed. "Bouquets of flowers for us. But...there are only three. One each for me, Roxy, and Stormer."

We received the flowers. The bouquets were huge and quite beautiful. I adore flowers and always have. I looked at all the alluring varieties included in the bouquet: blue iris, pink stargazer lilies, bright chrysanthemums, and stems of lavender. Roxy tore the plastic off of hers and made short work of wadding it up.

"Who're they from?" Roxy asked. "And how come there's not one for Pizzazz?"

I read the note card that was attached to my bouquet. "Knock 'em dead tonight! Pizzazz."

"Pizzazz!" Roxy exclaimed. She then tossed the wadded up plastic at the singer. "You softie!" she said, feigning horror. But her smile revealed how she really felt.

I underestimate Pizzazz. I always do.

"Pizzazz, this is so lovely!" Jetta exclaimed. Her eyes were wide and delighted.

"Thank you," I added. My face was glowing with happiness.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, which I translate as 'you're welcome.'

Later on, when Pizzazz was in the bathroom, Jetta pulled Roxy and I aside and said, "We oughtta get something for Pizzazz too," she said. "Maybe a nice piece of jewelry. We can get it tomorrow."

I agreed whole-heartedly. Pizzazz had done so much for us. I mean, for goodness' sakes, we lived rent-free at her mansion! Granted it didn't cost her much financially, but still. I remained awed that she had come up with the idea to send us flowers.

When we had less than an hour to go before the Stingers would take the stage, all three bands were brought out into the central backstage area for photo ops. Before leaving the comfort of our dressing room, the four of us did one last check of our hair, make-up, and clothing.

"Simply stunning," Pizzazz pronounced our appearances. "We're the best looking. We play the best. We are the best band in the world!"

Walking together, we set out to meet the paparazzi. We Misfits lined up next to Jem and the Holograms who were lined up next to the Stingers. It had been a long time since I'd seen so many photographers and video cameras all in one place. Video Montgomery was there as well, filming away. My heart thumped just a bit at all the pictures and all the fuss. Reporters fired off questions, and we answered them. Photographers asked us to shift positions a bit so that all twelve of us could fit in one picture. Then they moved us around to do individual group shots.

I had forgotten how long this fuss all takes too. Photo after photo, question after question. I tried to not blink at all the flashes from the cameras. At one point I tried to count the number of video cameras. Apparently at least five or six stations would be running some coverage of the show! Only one was carrying the entire concert though.

I noticed Craig standing off to the side. He gave me a thumbs-up. I waved back.

At one point, the reporter from the leading rock magazine requested a shot of just the lead singers. So we reshuffled the deck, the rest of us stepping aside to make room for Pizzazz, Jem, and Riot. The media then focused their attention on the three singers, snapping tons more pictures. Pizzazz looked radiant. She was in her element, soaking up the attention. The sight of it and her happiness brought a smile to my face, though somewhere in the back of my head I wondered whether she could ever learn to be happy without all that stuff.

"Oh!" I exclaimed. With the attention off me, I noticed something amiss.

"What's wrong?" Roxy whispered.

"I forgot my flower," I said, touching my hair. "I can't believe I didn't notice it earlier!"

"If it's gonna bug you so much, go back to the room and get it."

Jetta added, "This is a good time to slip away, since the reporters are preoccupied with our leaders now."

I heeded their advice and turned away from the media hordes, and towards the dressing room. I took a few steps when I noticed Kimber Benton heading in the same direction.

"Did you forget something too?" I asked, as she fell into step next to me.

"Um, yeah....I think I just got my period!" she whispered.

"The timing for that always sucks," I said, touching her arm. We shared a giggle.

We had taken more steps towards the dressing rooms when I saw them out of the corner of my eye. I noticed their uniforms first, and my blood froze.

Though we weren't near the Morality Officers, we could hear them loud and clear. The reporters ceased taking pictures. The backstage got very quiet as everyone's attention turned towards the officers.

"We're from the Morality Office," one of the men said. "We have concerns about rock music and its influence on our nation's youth. The music industry is rife with drug use and deviant sexuality. Therefore, we are going to conduct some quick blood tests on all the members of the bands that are playing here. This will take just a few minutes." He paused and continued, "If everything checks out okay, you will be permitted to proceed with the show."

"That will be fine," Riot said. His voice was loud and strong. "None of us are drug users, and none of the bands have anything to hide. We will be glad to comply. My group will go first."

I didn't listen to anything more. I ran to the dressing room. I didn't notice that Kimber was right there on my heels until we were inside the room and I locked the door.

I sank down to the floor. I collapsed. I couldn't think. I could barely breathe.

"Stormer, what is it?" Kimber asked, kneeling next to me. "What's wrong? Is it the officers? The test?"

Mutely, I nodded. I had no idea what to say or do.

"The test," I managed. "I'm gonna fail it. Kimber, I'm gonna fail the test!"

"But how can you?" she asked. "You're not a drug user. You have nothing to --." She stopped and then seemed to realize it. "Oh," she said, with finality.

I looked down at my hands. On top of everything else, now I was going to lose Kimber's friendship.

"I'm sorry, Kimber. I lied to you that day we had lunch. I'm so sorry." My voice shook so hard that I'm not sure whether I was even coherent. "I'm dead. I'm dead, and my band's career is over."

"No, it's not!" Kimber said, leaping to her feet. "I have a plan! Stormer, stay in this room and don't come out. If I can get to Jem in time, you're gonna be fine. Trust me! But stay here."

I sat there as she left the room. I had no idea what she had planned. I was too shocked and terrified to do anything else. I tried to block out thoughts of what would happen next, as my heart beat louder than a drum.

********
Pizzazz made her way back to the rest of the Misfits. The Stingers stood several feet away, surrounded by the officers as they readied themselves for their blood tests. The officers had set up a make-shift computer station to scan the test results. The media stood by, cameras and notebooks at hand. A few of the stations seemed to have their video cameras rolling.

"Our ass is toast," Roxy whispered.

Pizzazz tried to take stock of the situation. Between the dozens of reporters and the officers, it didn't seem like there was any way they could make a graceful and un-noticed exit.

Jetta's face was pale. "What do we do?" she whispered. "And where is she?"

"I don't know," Pizzazz whispered, in answer to both questions. She was watching everything go up in flames: the huge concert, the band's comeback. When the media got their hands on Stormer's test results....it would be over. Doom was imminent. She stood by, disbelieving the miserable turn of events and unable to dream up a way out.

Pizzazz's insides slowly boiled. She watched the Stingers being tested and marveled at the luck that they, and Jem and the Holograms, had. The Misfits instead had Roxy, who was a former illiterate and who was illegitimate, being tracked by the Morality Office. There was Jetta, former charlatan whose background wasn't much more prestigious than Roxy's. And Stormer, who carried around a secret that was soon going to disgrace the entire band.

`And you're the worst of them all,' taunted a voice inside Pizzazz's head, one that sounded eerily like her mother's. Pizzazz gritted her teeth. She could not explode now; throwing a tantrum would make the already intolerable situation even worse. Every fiber in her body wanted to lash out and she trembled, fighting for control.

Roxy inched closer and gently placed a hand on Pizzazz's shoulder. Jetta looked at Pizzazz, her quiet gray eyes touched Pizzazz's green eyes. Pizzazz subtly took a few deep breaths.

The Misfits noticed, out of the corners of their eyes, Kimber dashing up to Jem and whispering frantically in the singer's ear. Jem nodded, and Kimber dashed off again. Seconds after Kimber was gone, Stormer somehow appeared walking quickly towards the bands.

Pizzazz couldn't explain what she saw. Stormer was there, standing off to the side now, and she looked composed. Pizzazz exchanged looks with Roxy and Jetta. They all knew somehow that this was not Stormer. But she looked exactly like her.

Jem walked up to the Misfits. She touched Pizzazz's arm. "Trust me on this," she whispered. "We're gonna help you. Just go along with it and trust me. Volunteer your group to go next," she ordered. Jem was glad for Synergy's assistance.

Roxy bit her tongue to keep from crying out, 'You're gonna listen to her??' But she had no alternatives to suggest. And she had to admit that Jem had bailed them out before.

Pizzazz looked at Jetta, and Jetta nodded. Whatever Jem had in mind to help them out, it was better than doing nothing.

The Stingers were finished with their blood tests. One of the officers loudly proclaimed that all was well for this group, and "there is no drug use or deviant sexuality."

The reporters all made note of this.

"We'll go next," Pizzazz said. She was proud of the way her voice came out steady and strong, belying what she felt inside.

Roxy looked over at "Stormer" who stood next to her. She blinked a few times. This woman looked identical to their Stormer. But to Roxy it was clear as day that this was not Stormer. She couldn't say how she knew it, but somehow there was no way that this woman was the band's keyboardist. The mystery woman smiled back at Roxy.

The Misfits, including this silent "Stormer", lined up to have their fingers pricked. One by one, the blood samples were taken. Each sample was scanned by the computer.

"All clear," the officer proclaimed a few minutes later after the samples had been scanned.

Jetta, a band aid now wrapped around her finger, looked over at the Stingers. They were standing several feet away and she couldn't see them too clearly. But she saw one thing fairly well: the looks of disappointment and surprise on their faces.

"Ready for the last band," the officer continued.

"There are supposed to be five of them," another officer said. "I only count four."

"Oh! Kimber must be back in the dressing room," Jem said. "I'll go find her."

The three Misfits stood by. They watched "Stormer" subtly move off to the side, and then slip out of sight. A minute or two later, Jem and Kimber returned.

"So what the hell just happened?" Roxy whispered, once the Holograms lined up for their tests and the focus was off of the Misfits.

"I have no clue," Pizzazz admitted.

The three Misfits weren't sure which emotion they felt more strongly: relief or confusion. They stood by silently as Jem and the Holograms gave their samples and all was pronounced well. The Morality Officers packed up their equipment and turned to leave.

"The show is on in twenty minutes," the stage managed called.

The Stingers returned to their dressing room for final preparations, as they were to be first up.

The media were dispersing but several smaller interviews with band members were occurring. Before they could head back to the dressing room, a few reporters grabbed Pizzazz, Roxy, and Jetta. As much as they wanted to find Stormer, they stayed to answer the reporters' questions.

*******
I sat huddled on the floor of the dressing room. I wished I could listen to what was happening, but the room was too far from the area where the commotion was taking place. So I sat there and tried to remember to breathe. I tried to shut my brain off from catastrophic thoughts of the future, but my evil thoughts ran all over the place, taunting me. I was too terrified to cry though.

Then I heard a knock at the door and I nearly screamed.

"It's me. Kimber!"

I unlocked the door and let her in. As soon as she was inside, I locked the door again. And then I sat back on the floor, my back leaning against the door because I simply was too weak to stand. I knew my legs weren't going to support me.

"It's okay," she said, sitting down next to me. "It's alright. The police are gone."

"They're gone?" I asked. "How....what....?"

"Well, Stormer, I can't tell you all the details. You have to trust me and go with me on this. All I can say is that we fooled them into thinking you took the test. All the Misfits took the test and everyone passed. Your group's okay, and the stupid officers left."

I shook my head. "But I still don't get it. How could you have fooled them? Did you put on a blue wig and say you were me?" I asked, making a feeble attempt at a joke.

Kimber put a hand on my shoulder. "Stormer, I think the world of you, but like I said. I can't tell you, and you just gotta trust me on this one." Her voice was as firm as concrete. "Don't ask me about this again. Okay?"

I nodded because I kind of understood. I always had the idea that Jem and the Holograms had something. Something that gave them an edge, something that couldn't be explained. We had been their rivals for so long, and I had always sensed that I wasn't the only one with a secret. Whatever the case, I had to accept Kimber's insistence that I not ask again. She'd just saved my neck. "Okay," I said.

"Now Stormer, if you ever need me again, like if something like this happens, call me. We might be able to help again. I mean we'll sure try the best we can."

"Really?" I asked. "So you mean...you're not mad at me?"

"Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?" she asked. There was that innocence in her voice. She honestly had no idea why I thought she should be mad.

"Because I lied to you! That day we had tacos at my house. I was lying through my teeth because....because I was so ashamed." Now I was fighting back tears. I managed to keep from crying, but instead of tears spilling out of me, it was words that flowed. I told Kimber everything. I gave her the entire story of what had happened in Chicago.

Kimber pulled me into a hug. She was sincerely horrified by what I had undergone.

"Aww, Stormer, I'm sorry about what you went through," she said. "What an awful, awful experience! But that kinda thing doesn't matter to me."

She pulled away from the hug and looked me in the eye before giving a small laugh. "This is probably going to sound so corny, but...." she let her voice trail off before turning serious again. "I love you for who you are - gay or straight. Either way, it doesn't matter just so long as you are you. And damn those stupid officers for what they put you through!"

I don't know if it was the hug or her words, but I finally went over the edge and released all the pent up emotion. I cried and cried. Thinking of everything that had happened today, what had happened in Chicago, what I would surely face in the future. Thinking of the fact that my very existence was considered immoral and criminal. Kimber sat there, holding me and comforting me as I turned her shoulder wet with weeping.

This was what I had longed for - someone to hug me as I cried and relived that nightmare. The Misfits hadn't done that. I love them but ...things just won't be perfect among us, ever.

But I knew what we Misfits had was good enough. After the mess in Chicago, they took care of me in their own way. They rescued me, they drew the bath for me, they got me out of there. It wasn't the same kind of caring that Kimber was doing now but it was their way of giving me support, and I was grateful.

Dimly I was aware that the concert had started. We could hear the opening strains of "The Stingers' Theme". Kimber got up and found some tissues and I blew my nose.

Then we heard a knock on the door.

"It's Craig. Can I come in?"

I decided to let him in. Kimber, perhaps sensing that we should have some time alone, gave me a quick hug and said, "I'd better get back to the Holograms." She added quietly, "And I never did get that tampon that I need!"

Craig entered the room and led me over to the sofa. He put an arm around me as I continued to blow my nose. I then dabbed at my eyes.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked softly. My heart nearly broke at the caring I heard in his voice.

I took a breath. "Can you...can you tell me what you saw out there?" My voice still shook. "What you saw happen just now, with the blood tests?"

"I saw something very strange," he said. "I saw someone who looked just like my sister - but who wasn't. She took the test and then she disappeared." He paused and added, "You've been in here the whole time, haven't you?"

I nodded. Craig started to say something, but I cut him off and said, "Kimber did it somehow. But she made me promise not to ask how. I had to leave it at that."

Craig nodded. "The Holograms....they're hiding something. Seems that everyone is hiding something on me!" he exclaimed.

"But....you know about me, don't you? Aja told you, didn't she?" I had no idea how to bring up the subject, but I was starting to realize that I couldn't hide it from him any longer. And besides, I was darn tired of hiding.

"Told me what?" he asked, sounding puzzled.

"You know," I answered. Upon seeing that he maybe didn't know, I had to make myself say the words. "That I'm gay," I finally said.

He raised his eyebrows. The surprise on his face looked genuine. "Is that it?" he asked. He tilted his head back. "That's why you couldn't take the test. They have a way to detect that, don't they?"

"Yes," I said.

He was quiet for an excruciating moment or two. "I guess that explains a lot of things," he said, finally. "I guess I suspected. I always wondered why you never told me about your love life."

I forced a laugh. "There's been no love life to tell you about. Honestly!"

"But...why did you never tell me? Why would you tell Aja instead of telling me?"

"Oh, I never told Aja. But Kimber did. So I figured she might've mentioned it to you."

"No, she never did." He took a breath. "Okay, why tell Kimber instead of your own brother?"

"Oh, Craig, I wanted to tell you. I just had no idea how. I was so afraid that you'd....you know, get upset. Reject me."

"Reject my own baby sister? I don't think so!" He pulled me into a hug. It was my second one that day and it felt really good. "I love you."

I returned the hug wholeheartedly. "I'm so glad you know, now. I was so tired of there being this in between us."

"Me too. Thank you for telling me." He pulled out of the hug but kept an arm around me. "Now, Mary," he began, a very serious tone in his voice, "I know that these next few months are going to be hard for you. I know how much you always feared the Misfits kicking you out. But I really think this is going to turn out to be a good thing in the end now that you're out of the band. You can work on your solo career or maybe team up with Kimber and the rest of her group again. You can really spread your wings and - "

"Wait," I began, with a laugh, "what do you mean `now that I'm out of the Misfits?'"

He leaned back. "Well, surely they're going to kick you out now that they know you're a lesbian!"

I laughed with relief. "Craig, they've known for months!"

"They have?" he asked. He sounded more shocked now than earlier.

"Yes! And they've been great. I've been wanting to tell you how they came to my rescue in Chicago. And how great they've been since then, too. I've gotta give you the whole story some day." But after just recounting it to Kimber, I wasn't eager to go through it again.

He shook his head. "I can't imagine this." He then added, "This has been a day of surprises."

"It's true. So I don't think I have to worry about losing my job!"

He opened his mouth to say more, but the door to the room opened. Pizzazz, Roxy, and Jetta came in.

"We wouldda been here earlier, but we got cornered by some reporters," Roxy said. She noticed Craig and smiled. She thinks he's handsome. (Well, he is).

Craig stood up. "I guess I oughtta leave you guys alone."

"You don't haveta," Roxy said.

"No, it's okay. Good luck tonight!" he wished for us. Then he reached down towards me for another hug.

"I love you," he said quietly.

"I love you too," I said.

Craig left the room. Pizzazz looked at the dirty tissues littering the floor. My eyes were still red and puffy from crying.

"How ya holding up?" she asked.

"Oh, just wonderful!" I said, sarcastically.

"So then...you've been in here the whole time, haven't you?" Jetta asked. "That was not you who took the test, was it?"

I told them pretty much what I had told Craig. They knew that Jem and her band had something to do with it too. But none of us could explain it, and I told them how resolute Kimber had been in not revealing what they did.

"Guess we shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth," Pizzazz said.

"Don't look like we got a choice anyway," Roxy added. "They ain't gonna tell whatever it is they did."

I think what we'd just been through - dodging that major bullet - had kind of tired us all out, at least mentally. So we spent the rest of the time during the Stingers' set just chatting about nothing. We gossiped about the other bands, talking about what they wore, how their hair was done, and such. We didn't demolish the dressing room though, which was good. We did talk a little about "the old days", with Roxy re-telling the story of the time we tossed the hotel's manager in the pool. (Well, technically it was Pizzazz, Roxy, and Jetta who threw him in. But I stood there and watched, and laughed).

Roxy found my flower (I'd forgotten all about it actually) and affixed it to my hair. Jetta fussed over my make-up for a bit, helping me reapply it. Soon the tell-tale redness around the eyes was concealed. I appreciated their wordless expressions of caring.

The stage manager knocked on the door, giving us the ten minute warning. We were ready to perform. We walked along the backstage area to the wings leading to the stage entrance.

I wasn't nervous. I actually felt more calm and centered than I had been in a long time. I think the reason was obvious. Finally that wall of silence between Craig and me had been torn down, and he loved me none the less. Same with Kimber. I had people in my life who loved me the way I was. I berated myself for ever doubting it. Besides, all I had to do was think about everything my bandmates had done too.

When we took the stage, I gasped with shock. I'd nearly forgotten what it felt like to look out from the stage and see so many people! Thousands and thousands of fans clamoring for us, chanting the name of the band. They held Misfits signs and wore Misfits T-shirts. When the lights went up and they heard the opening strains of "I Am A Giant", the audience just went nuts. They practically screamed through the entire song.

We played the show of our lives. I mean it. Each song was performed with strength and passion, and we had the roaring audience eating from the palms of our hands. We fed off their energy and sent it back to them. Pizzazz strutted on that stage, patrolling it as if it were her realm. Roxy did the guitar-goddess thing with aplomb, and Jetta played a wicked sax. The four of us were so in synch with each other. Each song screamed through the night, performed masterfully.

Me, I think I was smiling like an idiot the entire time because I was so elated. I didn't think you could be this happy, but here I was.

We even debuted two of the new songs, and they were received with excitement.

When we performed "The Queen of Rock N Roll", I kept glancing at Pizzazz. She was so in her element. She looked, acted, and probably felt - down to every fiber in her body - that she was the queen of rock n roll. She is so rarely satisfied with anything, but she looked full and content here.

Our last encore was "It Takes A Lot." We belted that tune out too, and Pizzazz sang the last line which was either a demand or a warning to the world: "We will survive!" Afterwards, the four of us stood on center stage, our arms raised. We took our bows together. Then we left, waving to the audience.

"We'll have to thank the Stingers for warming them up for us," Jetta smiled, on the way back to the dressing room. She wiped the sweat off her face with her sleeve.

"Not that we needed it," Roxy added. We gleefully laughed.

"C'mon, girls," Pizzazz said. "Time to celebrate!"

Once we reached the room, it was straight over to the champagne. Pizzazz popped the cork and poured some into each of our glasses.

"To an amazing concert. And an amazing career," she toasted. We clinked the glasses together and each drank a sip.

"To rock n roll!" Jetta added, another toast.

"To us," Roxy said, for our third toast.

By Roxy standards, her words were borderline sappy. But no one was smirking at it and we all clinked our glasses together enthusiastically and drank. So maybe I was inspired by that, or maybe I was so full of love that night. I just raised my glass and said, "Um...I love you guys."

There was a moment when the others seemed a bit shocked by those words. But Pizzazz said, and this had to have been hard for her, "Ditto." I was impressed she did it. We were all on a bit of a natural high from the concert; maybe that explains things. Roxy and Jetta each said something along the lines of "Here, here." We then clinked the glasses together again and drank.

Her glass empty, Pizzazz tossed it over her shoulder. She reached for the rest of us and pulled us into a group hug.





---- THE END

Comments and feedback are always welcome.

Acknowledgments and Author's Note

I would like to thank my wonderful beta testers, Severine, Denisia, and Ann. You all provided invaluable input and I could not have done it without you. Thank you very much.