Bikini Beach: The Band free porn video

Bikini Beach - The Band ElrodW A high school garage band isn't doing very well at getting opportunities to perform. Some of the band members think they'd go further if they could replace the female lead vocalist who moved away. The problem is where to find such a singer. Then one of them decides to see if he can find a girl to recruit at Bikini Beach... ********** Bikini Beach: The Band This story is copyright by the author. It is protected by licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. Brandon Williams let the last chord ring echo through the garage, a satisfied smile on his face. The song had gone very well. He played guitar with his friends in a group, 'Living with Attitudes', a typical high-school wanna-be band. Compared to the other few bands in the city, they weren't bad, and it helped that Brandon and Jason had a gift for lyrics, while the keyboard player, Don Ellison, was exceptionally gifted musically, and wrote much of their music. Of course, they played a lot of music from other groups - it was how they'd gotten their one and only gig at a wedding reception. "I think we've got that song nailed," Brandon said as he let his hand drop from his guitar. Jason Green, the bass guitarist, nodded. "Yeah. I like the tweaks Don did to the keyboard solo." He looked at and stroked his guitar as if it were a treasure. "I like the sound." Jason towered over the other band members by at least five inches; he looked like he should be playing basketball instead of the bass guitar, but he hated organized sports and the rules and workouts that went with them. Don shook his head in disagreement. "It's not the same sound, though. Not since Tonya left." He was referring to their rhythm guitarist and singer, a girl who had shared lead vocals with Jason and Brandon practically from the time they formed the band. Her mother's job had transferred, so she had to move. Her missing vocals were keenly felt by the group. Vinny Rascone, the last member of the group and the drummer, sighed. "It doesn't matter how good it sounds," he said glumly. "Have you heard from the manager at Shell Game?" His voice conveyed that he wasn't very hopeful of the answer. Brandon closed his eyes momentarily. He'd hoped that he wouldn't have to say anything until after they were done practicing. Don noticed. "You _have_ heard." Brandon nodded glumly. "He said, essentially, don't call us; we'll call you." Vinny smacked one of the cymbals with his drumsticks in frustration. "It's always the same damned thing, isn't it? We get a demo to someone, and they politely tell us to fuck off!" His cursing was somewhat characteristic; the guys attributed his emotions to his Italian ancestry. After dozens of rejections, Vinny had to vent. "The problem, guys," Jason said, suddenly sounding contemplative, "is that we're missing Tonya's vocals. We _need_ a girl to get our sound back." "What ... are you saying? One of us should be replaced by a chick?" Brandon scoffed. Jason shook his head. "No. But what if we could add a new female vocalist?" "That might make one of us redundant," Brandon glared at Jason. "We have a good sound right now. Why should we add someone - that can push _me_ out later?" "Who says a girl would push you out?" Don tried to reassure Brandon. "Your ...." "Because a female vocalist would make my voice unnecessary," Brandon growled, "with better range, too. And if she played guitar, I'd be just an extra!" He frowned. "Most bands I know of, a female singer ends up in the spotlight, and everyone else fades into the background!" "Tonya didn't hog the spotlight," Vinny countered. "She didn't _want_ too much spotlight!" "But if you guys replace me with a female lead, I bet you'll get pushed aside, just like usually happens." Brandon's voice was rising with his emotions. "Whoa," Jason held up his hands to signal that everyone should calm down. "No one's talking about replacing anyone here! I'm just talking about replacing Tonya. We're a team, remember? And no-one is going to hog the spotlight!" He sounded very certain. "But for how long?" Vinny muttered, glancing around his friend's faces. "Who here would put friendship over something really juicy, like a recording contract?" "Not gonna happen," Brandon said with a frown. "We all agreed." He turned toward Jason. "So what's up with suggesting a girl?" "Think about it," Jason said. He was a little more tentative with his word. The vehemence of his friends' reactions had unnerved him. "We don't have the same sound we did with Tonya. Face it - none of us can do the sultry, sexy numbers like Tonya could. And the harmony she brought to some songs? I think we just sound silly when we try, to be honest. I mean, we're good, but I think we could be better if we could get a female voice again." Brandon wasn't convinced. "Maybe," he said slowly. "Let's say we agree on this," Don ventured. "Where are we going to find a girl to join the band?" "Yeah," Vinny agreed. "We tried at school when we started the band, remember? It was hard enough to get Tonya to play." Jason sighed. "There are more schools than Central. We could try at Eastside, Westside, and St. Gregory." "And maybe at college, too," Don added. "There might be a freshman or sophomore music major who'd love to be in a band." Brandon shook his head at the last suggestion. "Like some college girl is going to want to hang out in a band with a bunch of high-school seniors." "You got a better idea?" Jason snapped at Brandon. "I guess not," Brandon admitted sheepishly. Then he frowned. "Unless we could ...." He thought for a second or two. "Nah. Wouldn't work." "What?" "That water park. It's mostly women, right? The other day, when I was driving my little sister to Lynnwood Mall, we went past it, and there were a _lot_ of women going in. A lot of them looked like older teenagers - high school and college ages." "Okay, so you go check out the park this weekend, and we'll try to scope out the high schools after school Friday," Don suggested. He sounded skeptical that they'd find a vocalist at a water park, but he always played along with Brandon's hunches. They had a knack for being right. "Just don't wear your school colors around the other schools!" Vinny laughed. "We want to add a member, not replace one!" The rivalries among the high schools were well known - and sometimes led to fights. ********** Brandon started to feel nervous as he stood in the line for the ticket booth. There were a lot of girls in line, and even more going in without stopping. He reasoned that they had season tickets or something. In a few seconds, he counted over fifty girls who might fit the bill - if he could talk to them, and if they could sing. As he pondered trying to scout talent in a water park, he realized that his suggestion had been quite silly. Not only was he the least outgoing and most average of the guys when he wasn't on stage, but how on earth was he going to find and talk to even half of the girls he'd spotted? Maybe, he thought, the management would let him post a notice on their bulletin board - if they had one. Brandon sighed heavily. He didn't feel particularly suited to talk to girls, especially about joining the band. He was average height and build, and he wore his medium-length brown hair a little long and unkempt, in keeping with his rebellious style. It wasn't a look that was overly-endearing to the opposite sex. As guys in school went, he was far from the most popular. He had his friends, but it was a small circle of non-jocks and the guys in the band. Jason, who the girls considered attractive because he was six-two and athletically built, would have attracted more attention. Don would have had better luck, too, Brandon thought. While he was about Brandon's height and weight, his sandy-blonde hair and glasses framed what some girls called the perfect cute face. Even Vinny, with his mysterious Latin looks, would have been better suited. Brandon signed. What on earth was he doing here? All three of the other guys were more outgoing with girls. Before he knew it, while he was still scoping out possible girls to talk to, he heard a pleasant voice calling him. "Can I help you?" Brandon spun, startled, and looked in the ticket booth. The young lady in the booth wore a pink T-shirt with "Bikini Beach" embroidered on it, and a name-tag that said Marta. "Uh, yeah," he answered quickly. "I'd like to buy a ticket." The girl smiled pleasantly. "This is a members-only park, and we don't sell tickets, but we do have some guest passes we can sell. You're in luck. We have a few passes left." She quoted a price to Brandon. "That's kind of steep, isn't it?" he said skeptically. "I mean, it's already late Friday afternoon, so it's not like I'm going to have a full day." The girl nodded at his logic. "You're right. Let me call the office and see if I can give you a discount." She picked up a phone and punched a couple of buttons. After briefly explaining the situation, she attentively listened. As she listened, her smile broadened, and she hung up the phone. "Anya said to sell you a two-day pass for ...." She wrote a number on a paper. Staring at the quoted price, Brandon couldn't believe his luck. Whoever this Anya was had just offered him a discount of almost sixty percent! And with the two-day pass, he could come back Saturday, and he'd have more of a chance to talk to girls, greatly improving his chances to find a vocalist. Brandon paid, and then swiped his pass as directed, before walking into the men's locker room. He was surprised at how small it was, but on second thought, he realized that he hadn't seen another man or boy enter the park. With a name like Bikini Beach, it should have attracted men like flies to honey, with its implied promise of scantily-clad young ladies. He shrugged off the oddity, changed into his swim trunks, and stepped into the shower, as the girl in the booth had directed. Moments later, a scream erupted from Brandon as he stared at the reflection in the door mirror and at his altered body. Somehow, impossibly, he'd been changed into a girl. Not just any girl, either, but a reasonably cute girl. She - he - was a bit taller than average, and had the same dark hair as Brandon, but not quite shoulder-length, and layered in a sexy, sassy way. Her body was definitely above average; she certainly had nicely-shaped, ample breasts, which were uncovered, a flat tummy, and curvy, but not exaggeratedly-so, hips. A knock sounded on the door, causing Brandon to look up from his stunned self-examination. He was a girl - a semi-nude girl - standing in the men's locker room at a water park! When the door opened, a young lady walked in. She looked to be about twenty-two, and despite her smile, she had an air about her of being in charge. Before Brandon could speak, she handed him a bikini top that she'd seemingly produced from nowhere. "Please put this on," she directed Brandon. She saw the confused look. "I bet that you don't really want to have people see you topless, do you?" Brandon stared at the bikini top like it was a snake, but then, somehow, he realized that he knew how to tie it on. Gazing warily at the young lady, he fastened the top on as if he'd been doing it for years. "What the hell is going on here?" he demanded once his breasts were covered. "How ... how did you turn me into a girl?" The girl smiled. "Nice to meet you, too, Brandon. My name is Anya. My grandmother and I run this park. And in answer to your question, the park is magic. The water turned you into a girl, so you'd fit in with our usual clientele." "The water is magic?" Brandon asked, sounding very skeptical. "How do you explain that you're now a girl?" Anya asked. "Or that you knew how to tie on a bikini top?" "I ... I don't know," Brandon admitted slowly. "You're asking me to believe in magic?" His soft, feminine voice quavered with uncertainty. "Okay, let's give you one more demonstration," Anya said with a grin. "Tell me your name." "Brittany Ann Edwards," he said. His mouth dropped open in shock at the words that had come from his mouth. "No, that's not right! I'm Brittany - Brittany Ann!" His eyes widened. "Why am I saying a girl's name! I'm not a girl, I'm a _girl_!" She stamped her foot in frustration. "Why can't I say my name?" Anya chuckled. "When you showered, reality changed. You are Brittany Ann. You've always been Brittany Ann, and everyone remembers Brittany Ann. If you called home, you'd find that your mom would recognize you immediately as her oldest daughter." She smiled. "Go ahead, call her." "Uh," Brittany stammered, "no thanks." She wasn't ready to put the magic to that level of a test. "So now that you're a temporary guest of the park, you should find it easier to talk to the girls, and maybe find a vocalist for your group." Brittany's eyes widened. "You ... you know why I came?" "Of course. I use magic, remember?" A sudden thought pierced Brittany's brain. "Um, how long am I ...?" Anya smiled. "Until your pass expires. That should be Saturday, at midnight." "Oh." Brittany didn't sound too happy at the prospect. "Um, can you maybe, you know, give me a hand trying to find a singer? Maybe let me post something on your bulletin board?" Anya nodded. "We don't normally let our guests post anything on our bulletin boards, but in this case, it'll be okay. And by the way, since you're wondering why you're not all freaked out about changing into a girl, I gave you a little extra magic assist so you wouldn't panic. It would be kind of difficult for you to be trying to talk to girls about being a singer in your band if you were freaked-out." ********** "No luck?" Anya asked as a dejected Brittany walked toward the locker room. Brittany shook her head. "Nope." "Why do you want a female vocalist so much? Groups like 'OK Go' and 'Barenaked Ladies' are all male." Brittany drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "We need the sound we had with Tonya. The band just isn't the same without her. We just think that if we can't get that sound back, we aren't going to get our lucky first break. A good mezzo-soprano was key to a lot of our songs." "You're serious," Anya observed, having read Brittany's thoughts. "You're not just looking for eye candy, are you?" Brittany shook her head. "No. If we can get a singer, she's got to be good. Very good. We don't want to waste our time on a girl who doesn't know her music. It'd be good if we could find a girl who can also write music or lyrics, too." "That's a pretty tall order," Anya observed. "Tell me about it." Brittany sounded like the task was hopeless. "Who's in the band now?" Anya asked. It was a curious question. "Who plays what?" As he wondered why Anya had asked such a question, Brittany had strange thoughts of the band consisting of her, Don, Vinny, Jason, and Nikolai Belekov. She puzzled at that. All the guys knew Nikolai - his parents had emigrated from Russia when he was ten. He was a little shorter and stockier than an average American boy, and he still had a bit of Russian accent, which he could turn on and off at will, and which made him a charmer with the girls. He was a popular guy, and he was also a guitar virtuoso. Brittany shook her head to try to make sense of conflicting memories. At one point, her Brandon memories told her, the guys had seriously talked about adding Nikolai to the band, but Brandon had been dead-set against it, since he played lead guitar. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but he'd been afraid that the guys were moving to push him aside, since Nikolai - or Nick as he preferred to be called - was much better on the guitar. But her Brittany memories told her that Nick _was_ a member of the band, and played lead guitar. She was momentarily befuddled; Brandon's memories said she was looking for a replacement for Tonya, while Brittany's memories said they were only considering adding a girl for backup vocals. "Why ... why do I remember Nick being part of the band?" Brittany asked Anya, unable to hide the uncertainty in her voice. "And Tonya wasn't?" "In this reality, you're the female lead, sharing vocals with Jason, and Nick joined the band as the lead guitarist," Anya answered with a smile. "Who does the lyrics now?" Brittany cocked her head slightly, puzzled. "Mostly Jason and I," she said. "We all contribute to the music, but Don does most of the arrangements." As they spoke, a girl walked up to Anya. "Hey, Anya, do you know anything about the group that's advertised on your bulletin board?" she asked. She was about twenty, and looked like an average college co-ed. "Sure," Anya answered with a smile. "Brittany here is the one you want to speak to. It's her band." Brittany winced at Anya's use of pronouns. "Yeah. We're looking for another vocalist." The girl looked disappointed. "Did you guys break up or something?" Brittany shook her head quickly. "No. We just want to add more vocal variety to our music." Her eyes widened in surprise. She had intended to say that they were looking to replace their female lead vocalist who had moved away, but somehow, her words came out differently. "What's your group?" the girl asked. "Where are you guys playing?" "We're 'Radically Chick'." Her jaw almost dropped as she spoke and said the name. She'd intended to say 'Living with Attitudes' - in Anya's alternate reality, the name of the band must have changed as well! And like her own name, she didn't seem to be able to say the old band, but only the new name. "I'm Leanne Downs. I'm on the student activities board at the college. We had a dance planned next weekend. The problem is that the band we booked had to cancel because their lead singer was in a car accident Wednesday. Now we don't have a band, so we'll have to cancel the dance." The girl raised her eyebrow hopefully. "But if you guys are available, I _think_ I can convince the others on the committee, and we might be able to offer you guys the job - _if_ you're any good." She winced slightly, having listened to previous bands. "It doesn't pay that well, but ...." Brittany felt her heart race. A gig - at the college? This was _way_ more than she'd expected when she'd come to the park. "I can send you some MP3s of some of our work if you'd like," she offered. Leanne smiled. "I'll give you my e-mail address, and if you can send them tonight or tomorrow, I can get the other committee members to listen, and then we'll see. I should be able to get back to you by tomorrow night at the latest if it's a go." "Uh, yeah," Brittany stammered. This was an unbelievable turn of luck. A gig at the college? They'd get a lot of exposure there - and some reasonable cash. From that performance alone, they'd probably get recommendations to Shell Game, where occasionally, some music producers came to look for upcoming talent. It might be a huge break for them. Anya handed a piece of paper and pen to Leanne, who quickly scrawled her name and contact information on it. "The sooner, the better," she said as she handed the paper to Brittany. "We don't have much time to make a decision." "I'll e-mail you the demo songs as soon as I get home," Brittany said enthusiastically. "Great. I look forward to listening to them." Leanne turned and walked toward the locker room. "That worked out better than I hoped," Brittany said with a smile. "And since you have a two-day pass," Anya replied, "you can come here tomorrow to continue looking for the elusive female lead singer - if you still want one. The answer to your problem might be right under your nose." ********** Despite Anya's assurances, Brittany felt more than a little trepidation as she shut off her car. The house was still the same house, her mom's and dad's cars were still the same, but _she_ was different. She was waiting for something else to be radically altered as well. Slowly, Brittany opened the driver's door, still expecting some additional surprise. She stepped hesitantly from the car. Unlike at the park earlier, she was wearing tan pants, a pale blue cotton shirt, and sandals on her feet. She'd been mildly surprised to find that her clothing had changed as well, and more-so when she found a handbag with makeup, which she felt that she needed to apply - and knew how to. Like the bikini top, she'd known - through the magic - how to get ready, including blow-drying her hair before she swept it to one side across her forehead and fastening it with a barrette. Now, at home, she walked slowly with her bag of swim gear slung over one shoulder, while she clutched her small purse with the opposite hand. Nervously, she opened the door, and peeked inside. "Oh, good," Brittany's mom, Anne Williams, called cheerfully. She was pulling a covered pan from the oven, and the aroma of Italian cooking filled the kitchen. "You're home a bit earlier than I thought, so I guess we can all eat dinner together. Can you help your sister set the table?" She acted as though there was nothing unusual at all. "Sure, Mom," Brittany answered. "Let me hang up my towel and swimsuit first, and then I'll be down." She passed the family room on her way to the staircase. "Did you get wet, sweetie?" Brittany's dad called lightly from his recliner in the family room. "Yes, Dad," Brittany groaned. It was a very old joke - any shower, beach outing, or pool party was greeted with the same stale line from her dad. "Was the park any good?" "Yeah," Brittany found herself saying enthusiastically. "It was a great park. A lot of fun!" "Maybe we should all go there on Sunday. We haven't had a family day out in a long time." "Uh, it's a women's-only park, Dad," Brittany objected quickly. She wondered what would happen if her dad changed at the park. Would he suddenly recognize that she'd been Brandon and had changed? She didn't want to take that chance. "Oh. Oh, well. It was just an idea." Her dad turned his attention back to his laptop computer. "Oh, by the way," he interrupted himself and looked up, "Jason left a message. The guys are going to be a little late tonight for practice." "Oh?" Brittany felt an icy chill. She'd forgotten about practice. What was she going to tell the guys? How weird was it going to be now, being in a band with the guys when she was a girl? ********** Brittany had e-mailed the demo MP3s almost as soon as she'd gotten home, but no sooner had she pressed the 'send' button than she had an almost terrifying thought. She played one of the songs - and, as Anya had said, she found that she - Brittany - was the lead singer in that song. She played another, and found that she was singing backup to Jason. A third had her doing a sultry number - as Brittany. The band sounded the same - possibly even a little better - but in the demos, she was a female singer. Reality had _completely_ changed. Brittany didn't have time to contemplate the ramifications of the changes; she had to go help with dinner, followed by cleanup chores, and then cramming in some of her homework, before the guys showed up for practice. Now, however, without the distractions, and facing the reality that she'd been playing and singing in the band for an hour and a half, she started to think of what _had_ changed. In some songs, she had a bit of a radical edginess to her voice that fit the number. In others, she projected a sultry sexiness that surprised her. When she was singing backup, it seemed that she and Jason were perfectly matched vocally. Brittany set her guitar in its stand and wiped her brow. "Not bad," she said. She was amazed by a number of things. The guys acted as if she'd always been Brittany, as Anya had said, and that she'd always been a part of the band. Their songs had much more variety, including how their old sultry numbers suited a female singer that Tonya had led, while others had an edgy, alternative sound. A few even sounded a little punk. Jason grinned. "Better than not bad." He unplugged his bass, took the strap off his shoulder, and put the instrument in its case. As he straightened up, he asked, "So what was the big news you said we had to wait to hear?" Brittany grinned. "I got a contact while I was at the water park. The student activity group at college might be interested in having us perform at a dance next weekend." As soon as she said it, though, she realized what she'd just done. She didn't know what would happen if she changed back. They might not have the gig. She really wouldn't know until she changed back - and they did or didn't have the performance contract. "You're kidding!" Vinny exclaimed. Brittany shook her head. "No. She gave me her contact info, and I sent her some demo songs before you guys got here." Brittany's dad perked up at that news. "You should have told me," he said. He was in the garage where they rehearsed, unlike the old days when she had been Brandon. While he professed to like their music, Brittany was convinced it was a bit of an over-protective dad thing. She suspected that he didn't trust the other guys with her, mostly because he wasn't really listening, but was working on his laptop while feigning interest. "I'm not sure that playing on a college campus is the best idea ...." "Daddy," Brittany complained, wincing at the automatic way she'd addressed her father with a girlish term of endearment, "we'll be playing, not partying! Besides, it'll be at the student center, and campus security is pretty strict about underage drinking!" Brittany's dad sighed. "I guess you're right," he answered slowly. "But you don't have a contract yet, so don't start spending money that you don't have!" "I won't," Brittany said in an exasperated tone. "I've learned not to, so you and Mom don't nag me!" Their interchange was really warm and friendly underneath the words, even though an outsider could have mistaken it for Brittany being sassy. "You guys going to Shell Game tomorrow night?" Vinny asked as he climbed out from behind his drum set. "Sounds good to me," Don and Jason echoed simultaneously. "Yeah," Nick added. "It should be a lot of fun. I saw that they've got a good band lined up for this weekend." Then Jason turned to Brittany. "How about you?" he asked. There was something in his tone that seemed different to Brittany, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why. "I'm not sure. I guess I'll just see what happens." She couldn't help but notice the wary look she was getting from her dad. "Well, you can always meet up with us there," Jason replied, sounding hopeful that she'd be at Shell Game. "And you'll let us know the minute you hear about the dance on campus, right?" Brittany nodded. As Brittany walked to the house with her dad, she commented, "Dad, you don't have to come out when we practice!" "I can be proud of how my daughter sings, can't I?" "Daddy, knock it off! I know why you're out there - it's because I'm a girl, with the guys in the band, isn't it?" Dad sighed. "I guess I'm pretty transparent, aren't I?" He sighed heavily. "I guess I'm not quite ready for my little baby girl to be grown up, and it's hard to not want to be a protective father." ********** It had been a late night practicing, and with the fatigue of playing hard at the water park, Brittany was nearly exhausted. She trudged up the stair to her bedroom and, after closing the door, flopped heavily on her bed. It was the first time in a very hectic day that Brittany had a chance of quiet and peace, and the first time she could actually reflect on the day and think about the changes. The park had been fun, despite her fears, but she'd had to temper her relaxation and enjoyment to try to talk to girls who might be interested in singing with the group. It had been emotionally difficult to do simple chores like going to the bathroom. The first time Brittany had used the ladies' room at the park, she'd felt like she was going to die of embarrassment. Part of that feeling had come from being in a ladies' restroom with many other girls and women, all of whom, Brittany was convinced, knew that she'd been a guy. The other part was having to confront her changed anatomy when she used the bathroom. She'd emerged from the stall red-faced, and the sympathetic looks she'd gotten from a couple of ladies didn't help the situation. She was certain that they knew of her change, and that increased her sense of embarrassment. Dinner had been okay. Brittany was used to helping with dinner chores when she'd been Brandon, so _that_ part wasn't different. What was different was how chatty her mom had been, and the topics she was chatting about. When Brandon helped, it was in silence, or some cursory words about how school was doing, or if he enjoyed his latest date or the movie with friends. But with Brittany, Mom was much more talkative. How was she getting along with friends? Was she still interested in 'that boy'? Sympathetic comments about being a high- school girl with all the distractions, but suggestions of how to focus on her studies and homework, so she could get good grades and get into a good college. Discussion of clothing - with some comment how things were different and more conservative when Mom had been young. Brittany had found herself, surprisingly, arguing that "all the girls are wearing this" when defending one blouse that was common teenage wear, but that her mom thought was too racy. If it hadn't been for the providential sounding of the timer, indicating that the chicken was done, Brittany might have had time to feel uneasy about the conversation. Practicing with the band was almost normal. Almost. The guys were slightly different in their interactions with Brittany than they had been with Brandon. Jason was a lot more deferential toward Brittany; they'd had none of the usual arguments about the lyrics they were working on, but instead, Jason had readily agreed to changes that Brittany had suggested. As she thought, Brittany considered whether Jason had been trying to curry her favor. The same applied to Nick. He seemed to lose a little of his self-confidence when Brittany talked to him. Was he also trying to court favor? Both of the boys certainly had odd expressions whenever she caught either of them looking at her. She wondered - could they be ...? She quickly discounted the thought. She wasn't in the least interested in Nick. Was she? He _was_ rather attractive, and that accent was really cute! As soon as that thought entered her mind, she cringed and forced it away. There was no way either of them could have a thing for Brittany, especially Jason. She and Jason been friends since forever, and .... Brittany's eyes suddenly widened. A new set of memories was intruding into her thoughts. She remembered, like it was yesterday, talking with her friends Shelby and Jennifer their seventh grade year, when a cocky kid named Jason had strutted past them with three of his friends, talking loudly about various bands, and why one particular band was his favorite. She remembered telling him that the band was crap compared to another group, and why. He'd taken it as an insult - after all, he was a musician, or at least a musician-to-be, playing a mean bass guitar. Instead of cowering, as he'd expected, she'd confronted him that she played guitar herself, and pretty damned well, and would he like to try to prove that he was better? Her friends had been amused and astounded at her brash nature. Jason had accepted her challenge, and in her garage, she'd more than held her own as a guitarist. As a result, they had become friends, and a band had been born. That part wasn't so different from Brandon's reality. But in this reality, the band was 'Radically Chick'. When she began to focus on singing lead, and only playing rhythm guitar, they'd recruited Nick to join the band. She couldn't help but reconsider her original thought. It was possible that Jason and Nick _did_ have a thing for her. A part of her found the thought repulsive, but inside, in a tiny recess of her mind, a little part of her was delighted that she could have that effect on boys. As she considered the change, she became more uneasy. The girl Anya had told her that she'd used some magic to help Brittany adjust, so she wasn't nervous. What if she'd also made her want to _stay_ as Brittany, to not turn back? What if she'd messed with Brittany's mind, so that Brittany found boys attractive, and she enjoyed 'girl' stuff? Sleep came fitfully to Brittany, interrupted by dreams of being a famous female singer, like Pat Benatar, Lady Gaga, Joan Jett, Cyndi Lauper. Sleep was also interrupted by unsettling dreams of dating, kissing, and having sex with boys - and not just Jason - and loving it so much that she was something of a slut. ********** Saturday morning, Brittany's cell phone rang, stirring her from her slumber. She closed her eyes momentarily against the brightness of the daylight filtered by the window shades in her bedroom, and then opened them again when the phone continued to ring. Slowly, groggily, she reached her hand from under the comfortable covers and grabbed the phone. "Hello," she said, sounding half-asleep. "Good morning, sleepyhead! This is your nine o'clock alarm call!" The voice belonged to Wendy Jennings, a long-time acquaintance, who had been Brandon's girlfriend in her male reality. "Uh, morning," she mumbled. Wendy laughed. "I bet you're still in bed, aren't you? Did you forget we were going to the water park today?" Brittany blinked her eyes, trying to fully wake herself. "Uh, no," she said. Her mind was starting to awaken, and she began to search her 'girl' memories to see just what Wendy was talking about. "Good. We'll be over in forty-five minutes, and we won't wait for you." "Okay. I'll be ready." Brittany put her cell phone on her nightstand and slowly sat up. A huge yawn accompanied a stretch of her arms, and then she stood up. Her mind was racing to catch the foggy, shadowy memories as the flitted by. Wendy had been Brandon's girlfriend. Wendy was a very sweet - and affectionate - girl, and had a rather effusive, bubbly personality. That was why Brandon had liked dating her. That, and she was fantastic in bed. When Brandon had changed to Brittany, their relationship had changed to best friends, with - and the memory was a shock to Brittany - occasional minor rivalries over boys. Wendy was a little bit punk in her styling and attitudes, which didn't endear her to the "in" crowd of girls at school, but she and Brittany were too similar in clothing, hairstyles, and attitudes to _not_ befriend each other. Brit had a few intrusive thoughts of double-dating with Wendy, too. Brittany pushed the thoughts of boys out of her mind, and as soon as she did, she remembered the arrangements for the day. On Tuesday, Wendy had decided that their small group - Brittany, Wendy, Gwen, and Erica - should spend a day of fun at the beach. Quickly, though, the idea changed to Bikini Beach, an enclosed water park, because they didn't want to deal with the hassles of some of the arrogant jerks at the beaches who thought they were God's gift to women. The girls could always go elsewhere to tease or pick up boys. Brittany stared at her clock-radio for a moment before she sighed and shook her head. Forty-five minutes to get ready? Yesterday afternoon at the water park, and again last night when she got ready for bed, she'd come to realize why it took women longer to get ready. Just getting her hair dry and untangled seemed to take forever. She dreaded to think how long it would take if she had longer hair. Forty-three minutes later, Brittany trudged into the kitchen and, after retrieving a bottle from the refrigerator, poured herself a glass of orange juice. "Morning, sweetie," her mom called cheerfully from a desk on one end of the kitchen. "Are you girls still going to the park today?" "Yeah," Brittany answered nonchalantly. "It's a fun park, and we deserve a girls' day out." Brittany's mom looked wistfully at her, with the swim bag over her shoulder, lost in thought. "You know, that sounds like a good idea. I think I'll see if Millie wants to go have a ladies' day! The way you describe it, the park sounds like a wonderful place to relax." She laughed when she saw Brittany pale at the suggestion. "And don't worry, honey!" she added. "I promise that if we bump into you, I'll pretend that I don't know you so you won't be embarrassed!" Brittany's fear wasn't of bumping into her mom at the water park; her 'girl' memories told her that her mom was pretty cool, and that her friends liked Mrs. Williams. In their earlier years the girls had often hung out at Brittany's house so often that they sometimes called Mrs. Williams 'Mom', as a sign of their comfort and affection. No, what Brittany feared was bumping into her mom, or Millie Dawkins, in the locker room changing. The thought of seeing her mom nude sent a shiver down Brittany's spine - one of the 'boy' reactions she still had in her. When she heard Wendy honk her horn, Brittany darted to the door. She knew that Wendy hadn't been kidding about leaving her behind. "See you later," she called over her shoulder. As expected, Gwen had the front passenger seat, so Brittany dutifully crawled in behind her. Gwen was nearly six feet tall, being one of the stars on the women's basketball team, and her seat was pushed back all the way to give her legroom. Erica was behind Wendy, so she'd have an inch or two extra of space, which gave Brittany the cramped seat. Mercifully, the ride from her house to Bikini Beach was only about fifteen minutes. As they drove along, Brittany was mostly silent, only chiming in a few times when her 'girl' memories and instincts gave her confidence to contribute to the conversation. Wendy noticed. As they passed the Lynnwood Mall, she said to Brittany, "You're awfully quiet today, Brit. Something wrong?" Brittany sighed. "Not really. I'm just feeling a little tired." "You guys stay up way to late practicing," Gwen laughed. "If it was me, I'd be taking one of the guys to Shell Game instead of playing in your garage." "Unless you were doing _more_ than just practicing," Erica added with a giggle. "What? Oh, come on now! That's ridiculous!" Brittany snapped. "Ooohh," the other girls cooed. "A little too sensitive, aren't you?" Wendy teased. "Maybe Brit and Jason were practicing a duet," Gwen laughed. "Yeah. You've had a thing for Jason since seventh grade," Erica noted. "Would you guys knock it off!" Brittany complained. "Maybe it's not Jason, but Nick!" Wendy said. She started a semi- credible Russian accent, "You have thing for Nick, da? Americanski girl, strong Russian boy. You make much kissing, da?" The girls roared with laughter. "There was _none_ of that!" Brittany protested strongly. "We were just practicing! Besides, you know my dad. He's out in the garage every time we practice!" "I didn't know your dad was such a fan," Gwen said with a chuckle. "He's not. He just doesn't ...." Brittany's cell phone beeped, indicating that she had a message. "Hang on." She pulled her cell phone from her purse. As soon as she read the text message, her eyes widened, and a broad grin spread across her face. "Woo, hoo! We got it!" she yelled unexpectedly and excitedly. "You got what?" Wendy asked. "We got the gig at the college student union this weekend!" Brittany was ready to burst with excitement. "I've got to let the guys know." She began to quickly type on her phone. "What gig? What are you talking about?" Gwen asked, voicing the curiosity of all the girls. Brittany didn't even look up from her phone. "Yesterday, I bumped into a girl, Leanne somebody, from the college student activities board. They were looking for a substitute band for a dance this weekend. I sent her some demo stuff, and she was going to let her committee listen, and if they liked it, she said we could have the gig." "Wow! That's cool!" Erica said, her eyes wide with admiration. Moments later, she got messages from the other members of the band. "They all said yes, so I've got to call the girl and tell her we'll take it." She turned her attention solely to her phone and called Leanne. After a short discussion, Brittany put her phone away. "It's all set - our first real paying gig!" "Congratulations," Gwen said, without a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "She said it's an open dance, too, so if I had friends, I should let them know. That means you guys can come, too!" The rest of the short trip was filled with a spirited discussion of whether the girls would go, what they would wear, and whether they should find friends from high school, or try to meet good-looking college guys. Brittany was glad that she'd be performing and wouldn't have to worry about that last subject. ********** Brandon blinked his eyes as he slowly woke. The bright light streaming in through and around the blinds made his bedroom brighter than if he'd had a light on. He lifted his head a tiny bit, but felt tired from the effort and let his head crash back onto his pillow. At that point, his eyes snapped open. He lifted his head again, and shook it. His hand automatically went up to his head, where his fingers ran through his hair. "Yes! I'm back!" His bedroom was back to being its usual slightly-messy state, with a few clothes spilling out of a laundry basket in the corner, and remnants of the past school year still cluttering up a nearly-hidden desk. Brandon sighed contentedly at the condition of his room. He'd been quite disturbed by how neat and girly Brittany's room had been, and even more-so by an odd compulsion to keep it that way. He knew he wasn't going to miss that strange detail at all. Slowly, wearily, Brandon climbed out of bed and stumbled into his bathroom. He wasn't going to miss sitting down to pee, either, he quickly decided. He finished up his morning chores, and then pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, both scavenged from the floor. Standing, he picked up his cell phone to shove in his pocket. Something nagged at Brandon's mind. Something didn't seem quite right. Sure, he'd spent two days as a girl, but the band had gotten a gig from that college girl he'd met at the park. Hadn't they? A sudden nervousness came over him as he pulled his phone back out of his jeans pocket. As soon as he looked at his text messages, his heart sank. There were no messages from Leanne. He sank onto the bed, feeling hopelessly overwhelmed. It didn't make sense - he'd sent the demo MP3 files to her, after he'd met her at the park .... "Oh, shit!" Brandon exclaimed to himself. "I met her at the park!" He knew the answer, and it practically sickened him. The excitement of having a paying gig faded quickly. Leanne had been in contact with Brittany, not him. She had screened Brittany's band, 'Radically Chick', not Brandon's band 'Living with Attitudes', and had offered the contract to Brittany. As soon as he changed back to being Brandon, all of those events vanished. It never happened. Defeated, Brandon trudged to the kitchen and fixed himself a quick breakfast of cereal, a protein shake, and a banana. He ate silently, not even anxious to get the paper from his dad so he could read the two comic strips he enjoyed. Even his mom's cheerful 'good morning' didn't penetrate his funk. After poking at his breakfast a bit, he plodded out to the garage. Brandon stared at the setup for a while. The amps and speakers, the music stands, the drum set with "Living with Attitudes" on the bass drum - it all mocked him as it sat in silent witness to the band's failure to get noticed. Brandon dropped himself into a chair, his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands, contemplating what had almost been. They were _so_ close to getting that break that they needed. So close, and yet so far away. Why, he asked himself? Why did they keep on beating their heads against a wall, struggling to get something that was never going to happen? Why did they keep practicing while they talked about the break? Why? Brandon stared at his guitar, trying to make sense of what had happened. The instruments and equipment sat silently, as though mocking his questions. Eventually, Brandon tired of sitting, and he realized that he needed an answer. Slowly, it dawned on him that the only one who might be able to tell him something was that girl, Anya, from the water park. She knew about his change, and had said a few things that, in retrospect, made it clear that she understood far more than she'd let on. There was only one thing for him to do - to go to the park and confront Anya. He gulped nervously. Confronting a magic user like Anya might not be such a good idea. He needed to tone down his frustration and try to talk with her calmly. Otherwise - who knew what she'd do? The drive to the park was short, and Brandon arrived at the ticket window feeling unprepared. He'd tried to rehearse what he was going to ask, or say, while driving, but he ran out of time. Around him, girls and women streamed into the park, some giving him knowing grins at what they knew was about to happen to him. The only thing was, it wasn't going to happen to him. He watched the family in front of him purchase their passes - a father and mother, son, and a daughter - and then he stepped to the window. "May I help you?" the girl behind the glass asked pleasantly, managing somehow not to sound bored by having to repeat her greeting for perhaps the hundredth time since opening. "Um, I'd like to ... er, that is, I was here the other day, and, um ...." Brandon winced, not quite sure how to ask. "You wanted to speak to me, right, Brandon?" a voice sang sweetly from beside him. Brandon turned, startled, to see Anya standing there, smiling pleasantly. "Um, er," he started to stammer. She hadn't been there a moment ago, and when she'd appeared, she knew exactly what he wanted. Brandon's confidence waned quickly. "The other day ...." Anya smiled and took his elbow. "Let's go over here," she turned toward a couple of picnic tables which were near but outside the gate. As they walked, Brandon's head was swimming in a sea of confusion. Here he was, walking with a very lovely young lady, but one who was a very powerful magic user. She was both intriguing and frightening at the same time. Her brown eyes seemed so inviting, almost hypnotic, as if they could swallow a man's soul, and with her wavy dark hair, pert little nose, and perfect lips, Brandon knew that she could merely talk and get men to do her bidding. At the same time, she had at least the power to turn a man into a woman. Who knows what else she could do? He wondered, for a moment, if her boyfriend knew of her magic abilities, and if so, if that made him nervous. For some reason, it never occurred to him that a lovely girl like Anya might not have a boyfriend. Anya laughed. "You're right. His name is Greg, and yes, he knows I can work magic, and I think he finds it ... sexy." Brandon gulped nervously again. She was reading his mind - again, and it made him very uncomfortable. He had no hidden thoughts, he realized. "So," Anya said as she sat down, gesturing for Brandon to sit as well. "What brings you here?" "You probably already know," Brandon countered meekly. "I mean, you can read all my thoughts." "Touch?," Anya giggled. 'I'll try not to, if that will make you less nervous." "Okay." Brandon sighed, staring out over the women flocking toward the entrance gate. "I don't understand. Yesterday, we - the band and I - had a gig at college, but today, we don't." Anya smiled. "You figured it out." "I did?" Brandon was surprised at her answer. He had guessed earlier in the morning, but .... "Because I'm not a girl, 'Radically Chick' never existed, and Leanne never met me, so we never got the offer?" he speculated with uncertainty. "That sums it up pretty well." Anya looked at him with sympathetic eyes. "The band the college wants is 'Radically Chick'. When you changed back, the band is 'Living with Attitudes', a group that Leanne never heard of. She never met you. The dance is being cancelled. You don't get your break." "So ... I have to stay a girl if we want the gig?" Brandon asked incredulously. "Shit! I don't want to be a girl!" "Your choice. And there's one more thing. Whenever someone changes, there's a bit of randomness in the reality shift. The longer the change is from an event, the more randomness that can occur. It's really hard to control," she added, almost apologetically. "If you wait until Friday to change, hoping that 'Radically Chick' is going to perform, you're apt to find out that they don't have a contract." Brandon's head was spinning. "That means ... if I want to be sure that we have the contract, then ... I have to change ... now? And stay a girl all week?" He shook his head. "I don't want to be a girl!" he said vehemently." Anya simply shrugged. "There's not a lot I can do." "You mean you can't just wave your arms and make it so that we have a contract at college Friday?" Brandon sounded like he was almost begging. "I'm not a wishing well," Anya said with a wry smile. "I don't work like that. It's kind of difficult to weave through all of the repercussions of change to make sure things are right. Something that big would be awfully difficult, too. Besides, I prefer to confine my magic to the park." Brandon sighed heavily. "What am I going to do?" he asked rhetorically. Then he turned to Anya, hoping she'd give him some idea or alternative. Anya just shook her head. "You have a choice. Buy a pass and have the gig, or don't change, and don't have a contract. It sounds simple. But buying a pass and getting this one gig isn't going to make everything better." Brandon didn't seem to notice her warning, buy focused on the choice she presented. "What happens after that? If I change back, it won't have happened. We wouldn't have performed, and we wouldn't be noticed." He shook his head. "It's all pointless, then." "Not necessarily," Anya countered. "Like I said, when reality changes, there are subtle differences. When you change back, it's possible that your male band would have gotten some kind of performance. The longer you stay a girl, with a contract for your band, the more likely that something similar would have happened in this reality, too." "So you're saying that it's a crap shoot, right?" "Pretty much." Anya smiled. "But then, so is life. Nothing is certain, so you take your chances and deal with what you get." "Except for you," Brandon scoffed. "I bet you don't have any random crap messing up your life." Anya laughed aloud. "You'd be surprised. While I can see the future - some - and I can read people's thoughts, I still get surprised more frequently than you might guess. Magic isn't an exact science, you know." Brandon tried to laugh along with her joke, but he really wasn't in the mood, and his laugh sounded hollow. He sat, staring at the women walking across the parking lot, breathing slowly and deliberately. Finally, he nodded. "Okay. I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I?" "You always have a choice," Anya replied. "Not if the band wants to get noticed before we're in nursing homes," Brandon countered sarcastically. "I guess I need to buy a pass so I can spend the next week as a girl." "You make it sound like a death sentence. It wasn't that bad, was it?" Brandon snorted. "I guess most of it was okay, but there were a few weird things." Anya stood up. "C'mon. Let's go get you a pass, then." ********** Brittany waited in the hall for Erica and Wendy to finish with their history class. Her biology class had ended early when another girl threw up violently while dissecting frogs. The mess and smell hastened the end of the class. So far, school had been relatively normal - if by normal, one meant getting used to attention from guys who'd never been Brandon's friends, going to gym class with girls, and using the girls' restrooms. She didn't know if the attention was simply because she was a girl, or because word of the dance had gotten around, and she was a bit of a celebrity. The worst part, Brittany realized to her horror, was that it all seemed so normal, even comfortable - maybe too much so. The one negative was Allison and her gang of 'popular' cheerleaders. Allison was downright bitchy and nasty to Brittany, calling her a tramp and a slut, and worse. The 'in-crowd' of girls was either shunning Brittany and her friends, or were mocking them mercilessly. It was, by far, the least pleasant part of her whole change. Then, suddenly, she realized that girls had another bit of biological unpleasantness, and it struck her that, if she stayed a girl much longer, she'd have to deal with what she'd overheard girls describing as a nightmare of cramps, bloating, bleeding, and general hell. She started hoping that her period wouldn't occur this week. "Hey, Brit," a voice called from the direction she wasn't looking. Brit turned. She'd recognized the voice immediately. It was Ed Nathanson, Felicia Ormand's boyfriend. In this reality, Felicia was a friend, but not a really close one. In the old reality, Ed had been the casual friend. "Hey, Ed." One of his friends, Roger Swenson, was with him. "Wendy said that you guys got a performance at the college Friday night. That's cool!" Brittany smiled as she shrugged. "Yeah. I hope we do okay." Roger grinned. "I wish it was at Shell Game, though. I'd love to see you guys play." "Well, maybe we'll get a chance to play there soon," Brittany answered casually. She could tell, from the way that Roger was fawning at her, that he was more than a little interested. She found the thought repulsive; if she wanted anyone to be interested in her, it was Jason or Nick. And as soon as that thought entered her head, Brittany banished it with a shudder. She was _not_ interested in Jason or Nick as anything more than friends and part of the band. But of the two, another thought intruded - Jason was more her style. Roger's and Ed's interest wasn't the first that Brittany had encountered. News of their gig at college had spread like wildfire, and she found herself a bit of a celebrity. She told herself that she hated the extra attention - mostly because she was a girl, but in her heart, when she really, honestly thought about it, she had to admit that it was fun to be the center of attention. "Hey, Brit." Wendy and Erica had been part of the horde spilling out of the history class, and they saw Brittany waiting. "You're here early." "Tiffany blew chunks all over the biology lab, so we got out of class a bit early," Brittany chuckled. "Lucky you. We just finished a pop quiz," Erica complained. "Ready for lunch?" "After watching projectile vomit?" Brittany asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "I don't think I'm really hungry." "You better get something. You don't want to be distracted by a rumbling stomach while you're trying to take a math test." "Ugh! Thanks for reminding me!" Brittany complained. She and her friends turned to walk down the hall to the cafeteria. "Maybe I'll just get a salad." As they walked, she continued an earlier conversation. "So are you guys going to the dance Saturday?" Wendy smiled. "I'm not sure. I think it'll be a lot of fun." "Yeah. We might find some cute college guys!' Erica added gleefully. "If your dad lets you," Brittany laughed. "Yeah, there is that," Erica said with a smile. Brittany found herself hoping that the girls would come to the dance. While she was unusually comfortable, she was still quite nervous about being a girl and performing at the college, surrounded as she would be with lots of older college boys - many of whom would - she slowly realized -be trying to hit on her. She felt a shiver run down her spine at the thought. Having Erica and Wendy at the dance would give her a feeling of security - assuming that they didn't decide to hook up with some college guy! ********** "We'll be back after a short break," Brittany purred into the microphone as she gazed out into the dark room. She couldn't see much past the lights, but she knew, from drama class in high school, that she had to at least pretend to make eye contact with the crowd. She put the mic back in its stand, and then wiped her brow with the back of her hand. Brittany almost bent over to put her guitar in its stand, but she remembered - at the last minute - that if she did, she'd give some guys a free view right up her skirt. Sighing to herself, she squatted and set her guitar down. "I need a Coke," she said as she straightened up. Jason laughed. "Downside of being lead singer?" Brittany chuckled. "That's one. My throat is dry, and I'm all sweaty." She strode off the stage and into a side room. Immediately the cacophony of hundreds of students talking was damped. She grabbed a bottle of soda, and then slumped wearily into a chair, being careful to cross her legs so anyone in the room wouldn't be able to see up her short, black, leather skirt. She wore a matching leather vest, open in front, over a red blouse that looked very much like a bustier with a push-up bra, showing more than a hint of cleavage. Her calves were wrapped in tight, high-heeled black leather boots over her fishnet stockings. Her choice of outfit for the night had practically sent her dad to the emergency room with a heart attack; if it hadn't been for her mother's intervention, her dad would have insisted that she dressed as modestly as a nun. She had on heavy makeup, to compensate for the bright stage lights; her mom had even had some helpful suggestions on makeup and jewelry to complete the look she wanted. Saturday morning before the concert, she'd gotten her hair cut into a little more radical, shorter, sassier style, and had deep reddish highlights added. With gaudy earrings, she looked the part of the band's name - "Radically Chick." "We're nailing it," Vinny grinned between sips of water. "I think they like us," Don said with a satisfied smile, sitting in another chair. He suddenly levered himself up. "I've got to take care of something." Vinny laughed. "Me, too! My bladder is about to burst." "I thought it was girls that went to the restroom in pairs," Brittany scoffed. "Stuff it!" Don snapped quickly. "I wonder if there are any college girls who noticed us," he said reflectively. "Da!" Nick smiled. "Maybe are girls interested in foreign guitar player in rock band!" he said playfully, having turned on his accent. "Perhaps should go to be seeing how many fans I have made with incredible guitar solos." With a slight swagger to his step, he strode out of the room, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Five bucks says he gets a girl tonight," Don said softly. "That's a sucker bet," Jason answered sharply. "He knows how to work that accent. It'd be a surprise if he _doesn't_ get laid tonight." He shook his head. "I wonder if any girls noticed the rest of us." Vinny sighed. "The only people I saw paying attention to anyone were all the guys gawking at Brit!" Brittany felt a shudder course up and down her spine at that thought. "Well, if they are, they're going to be disappointed, because I'm definitely not interested in any of them!" The guys left Brittany, sitting alone in the room, resting and sipping her soda. This was a good Saturday night - far better than she'd expected. Vinny was right - the crowd really liked the band, and they were being paid quite generously. Now, if they could manage to get another gig or two.... A knock interrupted her thoughts. "Excuse me?" The interloper was older, in his mid-twenties, but casually dressed like most of the college students. "Can I help you?" Brittany asked carefully. Being a girl was still strange to her, so she was cautious. "I'm Steve Fields. I'm ... a booking agent, which means I arrange musical entertainment for my clients." Brittany was on her feet instantly. "Uh, hi," she said, eyes wide with surprise as she shook his hand. "I'm Brittany Williams." Mr. Fields smiled. "Yes, I know. I read your flier." "What can I do for you?" "I was hoping that I could do something for you," Mr. Fields replied. "Oh?" Brittany suddenly felt a little paranoid. "Something for us?" "I represent a number of performance venues that book bands such as yours for live entertainment. I think you know one of them - Shell Game?" "Who doesn't know of Shell Game?" Brittany replied, a bit sarcastically. "It's only the most popular hangout for teens in a three-county area." "Yes, I know," Mr. Fields replied with a knowing smile. "They're one of the places that use my services." "So, let me guess. You can get us booked at some nice places, where we might get more notice?" Brittany sounded very skeptical. "And ... what do you charge for your services?" she asked. Suddenly, she wished the guys were here with her. Mr. Fields was making her very nervous. She realized that, unlike Brandon, she was small and vulnerable. Mr. Fields understood her hesitation. He laughed, holding up his left hand to display a ring. "No, nothing like that. I'm way too married to be chasing teenage girls." He pulled out a card from his shirt pocket. "I just wanted to give you my card. I hope you'll come by the office with some demo music next week. If you - and the rest of the band - wouldn't mind, I'd like to recommend you to the managers of a couple of my clients." Inwardly, relief flooded over Brittany like a wave. "I can talk to the guys," she replied. "They might be interested." She didn't want to commit to anything more until she had a chance to talk with the rest of the band. Mr. Fields nodded. "I understand. Have your manager give me a call, and we'll see if there's anything that might interest you." "Um," Brittany hesitated, "we're kind of self-managed." Fields shook his head, a sad smile on his face. "Do yourself a big favor and hire a manager. If my instincts are right, you kids are going places, and if you don't have a manager, this business is going to chew you up and spit you out." "Uh, thanks," Brittany added. "And give me a call." With that, Fields left the private area. Brittany was thinking of what he'd said, and how to tell the guys, when the pressure in her bladder became too much to ignore. Sighing, she took one last swig of soda and stood. She knew it would be a gauntlet of guys, all interested in her, before she could make it to the ladies' restroom. ********** The sunshine through the blinds was intolerable to Brittany; she tried to pull her covers over her head, and when that failed, buried her head under a pillow. For several long moments, she lay still, trying to get back to sleep, but eventually, she gave up and struggled to sit up. She sat, taking slow, deep breaths, her eyes half-shut, for quite a while as sleep drained away from her and her brain began to awaken. For a moment, she wondered if last night hadn't been a dream, but as her neurons began firing more regularly, those thoughts drained away. The band _had_ played at the college dance. She shuffled to her dresser and opened her purse. Inside, to confirm the gig at which they'd played, she found a one-page folded paper with the check at the bottom and the receipt at the top. She remembered how she and the guys had stared at it, wide-eyed, grinning from ear to ear. It had been a very good night; the crowd had seemed to like the mu