A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first Twilight fic, but I've written a lot of other things. At first I was nervous to write anything Twilight related because I wanted to be able to capture the characters exactly right. I couldn't come up with any ideas I felt like I could pull off, but I desperately wanted to write something Twilight. Finally, I came up with this idea and I'm really proud of it. This is a rather lengthy one shot. I like it and I hope you all will too! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. I also do not own a large portion of the second half of this story which, as you may recognize, was more or less taken word for word from Twilight. I also do not own the title of this story. It is a song from the musical Wicked.
Dancing Through Life
Mary Alice Brandon had always wanted to be a ballerina for as long as she could remember. After years of begging her mother, she finally found the perfect plan. She set to work on her younger sister, Cynthia. Mary Alice did everything she could to convince Cynthia to take dance classes with her. She begged, pleaded, yelled, threatened, and bribed her sister until she'd finally won. The next day, their mother signed the girls up for a ballet class.
Mary Alice danced around the house constantly in the week before their first class. Finally, her mother told her that if she wanted to take the dance classes, she couldn't dance in the house. She stopped dancing when her mother or anyone else could catch her. Often, though, she'd dance around her bedroom. Though she wanted a ballerina tutu and a perfectly pink outfit, she settled for the nude tights, off-pink leotard, and not quite matching skirt. She wanted perfect pink ballet slippers. Instead, she got used and faded ones. However, Mary Alice took it all in stride, knowing she wouldn't get anything better. She was simply content to be able to take her dance class.
Just as should have been evident to anyone who paid even the slightest attention to her, Mary Alice had a natural talent and grace for ballet. She did so well their first class that Cynthia went home crying. Her mother threatened to withdraw her if she continued to show-off and put down her sister. Mary Alice was disappointed but she obeyed. The teacher was puzzled and frustrated by her sudden lack of skill. One day after class, she pulled Mary Alice aside and asked what had happened.
"My sister felt awfully discouraged so my mama told me not to show-off around her," she explained to the teacher. When the teacher offered Mary Alice private lessons, her eyes widened. "Oh! That would be amazing!" she squealed. Quickly, though, she checked herself. "Thank you for the offer, ma'am, but we don't have that kind of money."
Mary Alice continued to take class with her sister. Cynthia's dislike for ballet grew stronger and stronger with each lesson. Whenever Mary Alice tried to help, Cynthia would scream at her. She began to worry that it was only a matter of time before Cynthia would insist on quitting and she'd be forced to follow. While she knew it was inevitable, that day came sooner than it would have without a sudden strange event.
The ballet class had begun just as any class. They'd done their warm up and we now beginning to work on the combination. One moment, everything was fine, then suddenly Mary Alice collapsed to the floor. Everyone flocked around her to make sure she was alright. She didn't appear hurt, but she wouldn't answer them. Her name was called repeatedly but she seemed to be almost in a trance-like state. Finally, Cynthia pushed her way to the center of the crowd where her sister lay. She grabbed Mary Alice by the shoulders and shook her violently, screeching hysterically at her to "stop being stupid and get up."
This brought Mary Alice out of her trance. As her sister's face suddenly came into focus, she screamed. "How could you do that to me!?" she shrieked. "You betrayed me! You're cruel! You're heartless!"
Cynthia staggered backwards. Everyone turned to stare. "Y'all saw me!" she protested. "I didn't do a thing to her!"
"It's your fault!" Mary Alice continued to rage. "You put them up to it! You talked them into it! They've always liked you best and we both know it! You used that to your advantage to get rid of me!"
Mary Alice was in hysterics. The teacher quickly rushed her out of the room, got her a drink of water, and called her mother to suggest she might want to pick the girls up. By the time they got home, Mary Alice had calmed down, and was just utterly confused now. What had happened? As they walked inside, she attempted to apologize to Cynthia, but her sister simply glared at her, turning to their mother instead.
"Mama, Mary Alice humiliated me today!" she wailed. "I can't go back there! I want to quit!"
"Of course, baby," Mrs. Brandon quickly agreed. Turning to Mary Alice, she added sharply, "Needless to say, you won't be returning there either."
Mary Alice caught Cynthia's smirk. It was the same smirk she'd seen, but on an older face. A face with cruel intentions. She shuddered and did her best to repress the images and the anger it filled her with. Turning to her sister, she began calmly, "Cynthia, I'm sorry about what happened today. I-I don't really know what got into me. But I'm awfully sorry."
Cynthia's glare wavered a moment, but she managed to retain it. With a sigh, Mary Alice turned to her mother. "Mama, I don't wanna quit dancin'," she protested.
"You do what I tell you," her mother snapped. "Now go to your room."
No further strange incidents occurred for quite some time. Life went on as usual. Cynthia was still slightly resentful of her older sister, but things had more or less returned to the way they'd been. However, Mary Alice was still eager to dance. One day walking home from school, she came across a flyer. The city's most prestigious dance school was holding a competition. The winner would get a full scholarship to dance at their school.
Mary Alice kept the flyer. She took every penny she had and bought pink tights and a pink leotard. She couldn't afford the tutu and she'd never actually seen anyone wear them in dance classes so she settled for a pink skirt. Finally, she bought brand new pink ballet slippers. For that week leading up to the audition, she spent most of her time in her room, something which had become typical anyway. Every moment she could spare, she danced. Everything depended on her winning that contest and getting that scholarship.
The day of the event, she lied and told her mother she was meeting up with some friends. She packed her bag with her dance clothes and hurried to the studio. It was already fairly crowded when she arrived. Mary Alice quickly slipped into the bathroom and changed into her dance clothes. When she returned to the lobby, she managed to find an empty chair and sat down to put on her ballet slippers. As she stood up again, an older woman entered the lobby from one of the studio doors. All the girls fell silent and the woman addressed them all.
"Welcome, ladies," she greeted. "I commend you all for venturing to participate in an endeavor as such. However, today will be a long and rigorous day. To be a ballerina here, one must have technique, grace, poise, beauty, and talent. We also do not tolerate any disrespect here. If anyone feels that they could not achieve such standards, leave now."
Nobody moved and inch. It almost seemed as if everyone were holding their breath. Pleased, the woman continued, "Very good. If everyone could please enter the studio, single file, and approach the table. State your name and age. You will be given a number and you must wear this number on your person at all times during the course of this day. Break a leg, ladies. Your audition begins now."
Some girls were eliminated during the warm ups. Mary Alice hardly noticed. She was not to be deterred from her focus. After the warm ups came an assessment of the basic techniques. A handful of girls were sent home and Mary Alice now noticed the cuts being made. She inhaled sharply, not having realized how little time they had to prove themselves. Next came across the floor drills, where an even larger group of girls were cut. However, Mary Alice remained.
The remaining girls now began learning a combination. They were taught a great deal in little time, and at a rapid pace. More girls still were being asked to leave during this learning process. Finally, they were given a break for lunch. The numbers must've ranked in the hundreds in the morning. There were now a mere thirty or so girls still remaining. While they all sat together, there were no attempts at friendship. Many girls were cold. Most were just too nervous to speak. Their food was nibbled at, each girl seeming to be running the dance steps in her head.
Soon it seemed they were back to work again. First they reviewed what they'd learned of the combination before lunch. Girls were removed from the competition yet again during this portion. After that, the learning began again. There was still an entire second half to go. Mary Alice was exhausted, but she refused to let it show. She needed this scholarship. She needed to dance. So she pushed herself harder, to do better to compensate for her fatigue.
By the time the entire competition had been learned, there were fifteen girls. They ran through the entire combination once and got down to twelve girls. Then they were told they were going to be performing the combination on the stage in front of all the instructors at the studio. Twelve anxious girls waited backstage as the judges got situated. There was a great deal of reviewing going on – both mentally and physically. All too soon it seemed they were being called on stage.
The curtain parted and the lights came up. The music began and Mary Alice danced her heart out. By the end she was panting, but she'd done it. She'd remembered every step. She'd pointed her toes and held her posture and everything she possibly could. The girls were sent backstage again while their judges deliberated. When the results were in, only eight girls remained. Mary Alice was one of them.
Next, the girls were asked to perform the combination again – separately. Mary Alice was sixth. She was very pleased. Six had always been her lucky number. It just gave her a good feeling about things. As she took the stage, her nerves surfaced for the first time. She was entirely alone out there and she had everything riding on this. When the music started, however, her fears were lost. She just focused on the music and danced effortlessly.
After each girl had taken the stage, the eight were reduced to five. The five remaining girls were then given fifteen minutes to choreograph their own solo routine that they would then be performing for the panel of dance instructors. Mary Alice was petrified at first. She had little technical experience. How was she supposed to choreograph? As she thought about it, however, she realized she'd been choreographing all along. No one told her how to dance in her room. Feeling relieved and light hearted, she began to create her routine.
Fifteen minutes later, the girls were asked if anyone wanted to volunteer to go first. The other girls shied away, but Mary Alice was confident. She offered herself and was led to the stage. They had to do their routines without music, but that wasn't a problem for her. She'd never danced to music in her room. It didn't matter to her – the music was playing perfectly clear in her mind. Mary Alice lost herself in the moment. In the dance. Her seemingly effortless movements, natural grace, and confidence stunned the judges.
After the choreography round, the five girls became two finalists. One of the finalists was Mary Alice. She was ecstatic, but she knew she still must do more. The two girls were taken into separate rooms and interviewed. Mary Alice told them her story, excluding the incident at her former dance studio. As the judges met for their final deliberation, Mary Alice turned to her fellow competitor. "Good luck!" she chirped with a smile.
The girl didn't even look at her. Mary Alice's smile fell. Slumping in her seat, she turned to face forward as the other girl was. As the door knob turned, she straightened her posture. This was the moment of truth. The same woman who had begun their audition entered the nearly empty lobby. She smiled at both girls. "Congratulations on making it this far," she told them. "You are both very talented and this was a difficult decision. Our staff here has decided to make the winner of this competition and the scholarship to our dance school…Mary Alice! Congratulations!"
Mary Alice was overjoyed. She burst into tears. It meant so much to her to have this opportunity. To be a dancer. The other girl left without even offering congratulations, but Mary Alice was too elated to care or even notice. "You did very well, Mary Alice," the woman congratulated her. "While you weren't quite as technical as some of the other girls, your grace and natural talent goes unmatched. We are thrilled to have you be part of our company."
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" Mary Alice exclaimed.
The second Mary Alice burst through the door of her home, she shouted to her mother, "Mama! Mama, I won! I won a scholarship! To dance classes! At the best dance school in the city! I already bought dance stuff out of my own money, Mama! Please, please let me do it!"
Her baffled mother had no choice but to allow her eldest daughter to pursue her dreams. Cynthia, however, was livid. She refused to say a word to her sister. Though they were older now, she reverted to childish things such as, "Mama, could you tell Mary Alice to pass the butter?"
Their mother refused to get involved, claiming the two sisters needed to learn to work it out themselves. Mary Alice tried. She tried everything to get her sister to speak to her again, but to no avail. Cynthia was stubborn and determined. It was months before their father finally yelled at her to stop being so immature and ask Mary Alice herself to pass the damn butter. After that, Cynthia would grudgingly speak to her, but only when it was absolutely necessary. They were a hopeless case, and Mary Alice eventually gave up.
She danced at that studio for five years. During her fifth recital, she had a featured role in one of the numbers. She'd begged her family to come watch this time, but they'd all refused. Nevertheless, she was excited as she took the stage. As she looked out at the audience, she was shocked to spot her parents and Cynthia standing in the back. She did her best to contain the grin that wanted to spill out across her face.
The number began and Mary Alice was doing better than ever. During the middle of the number, however, she collapsed. A collective gasp came from the audience. The instructors and the other dancers all crowded around her. In the back of the auditorium, Cynthia's eyes widened in horror as she flashed back to the last time she'd set foot in a dance studio. Just like that time, Mary Alice was unharmed, but wouldn't respond to the people shouting her name. She appeared in a trance-like state.
Finally, someone reached out and touched her shoulder. Immediately, she began to scream. Her family cringed. "Fire!" she shrieked. The audience began to look around in panic. "Put out the fire! I'm burning! I'm burning!" Cynthia began to sob in humiliation and the family quickly ducked out of the building and hurried home. Mary Alice continued to scream and cry, "The fire! Where are you!? Help me! Put it out! Put out the fire!"
One of the other dancers screamed and fainted. "Mary Alice!" someone shouted.
Suddenly, she stopped. She looked around her, dazed. While she still didn't know what it was that had happened, she could recall what had occurred and what she'd done. "I-I'm so sorry," she nearly
whispered. She knew without being told that she wouldn't be welcomed back at the studio. "I'll go pack up my things."
When she left the studio that night, she left dancing behind her forever. She left her dance clothes in a dumpster. All her hard work had gone to waste. When she arrived home, no one spoke of the event. Cynthia avoided her like the plague. Mary Alice went through the next few weeks like a zombie. One day, she came home and found her parents and Cynthia waiting for her. It brought about a strange feeling of déjà vu.
"Mary Alice," her mother began, slowly, "we think you should take…take a trip for a little."
"A…trip?" she repeated.
"With the recent…events," her father continued, "we feel it would be best for you to…get away."
Mary Alice's brow furrowed in confusion. "I-I don't understand," she stammered. Suddenly, she saw Cynthia smirking. That smirk…no! Her eyes widened. "You can't!" she screeched. "Don't listen to her! She's just bitter! How could you let her turn you against me!? I'm your daughter too! I was your daughter first!"
"You're losing it, Mary Alice!" Cynthia snapped. It was the first time she'd heard her sister's voice in a while. "You're crazy and you're putting our family to shame! You belong in the loony bin!"
She felt the impact of those words. The pain ripped through her as Mary Alice turned to her younger sister, fire in her eyes. "How could you do that to me!?" she shrieked. "You betrayed me! You're cruel! You're heartless!" The words were all too familiar. This was all too familiar. She'd seen it. She'd seen it coming.
"It's your fault!" Mary Alice continued to rage. "You put them up to it! You talked them into it! They've always liked you best and we both know it! You used that to your advantage to get rid of me!" She began to sob. "Mama! Papa!" she wailed. "Don't do it! Don't send me away!" Even as she said it, she knew she was too late. She knew what would happen next.
"We're sorry, Mary Alice," her mother whispered.
A moment later, the doorbell rang. Her parents restrained her while Cynthia opened it. Then the men in white took her away. She never saw her family again. At the asylum, she was locked up in a dark, dreary cell. It was like being in jail. She was a prisoner. She quickly made friends with a man who was working there. He was so gorgeous and so graceful. He reminded her of dancing, and she liked that.
Soon the shock treatments began though. Her visions had become much more frequent when she entered the asylum. The more they put her through this shock therapy, the harder it became to recall these visions. As time went on, she couldn't recall her past either. After being there for over a year, she couldn't recall a thing day to day. Eventually, it just all faded into blackness and she could no longer tell if she was living or dead. Nor did she care.
Edward, Carlisle, and I crouched around the barely conscious Bella. "Edward," she rasped.
"Bella, you're going to be fine," Edward told her. "Can you hear me, Bella? I love you."
"Edward," Bella repeated, a little clearer this time.
"Yes, I'm here," he assured her.
"It hurts," she whimpered.
I frowned, throwing a concerned look at Carlisle. He didn't notice, too focused on the gash in the back of her head. "I know, Bella, I know," Edward murmured, his voice strained with anguish. He turned to Carlisle. "Can't you do anything?"
Always the practical one, Carlisle replied simply with, "My bag, please."
All the fresh blood was starting to get to me a bit. I'd never had a problem around Bella before, but this was a lot of fresh blood oozing out of her. How did Carlisle manage this day after day? He looked over at me and I must've looked slightly pained because he advised, "Hold your breath, Alice, it will help."
"Alice?" Bella groaned.
I smiled sympathetically at Bella, although she couldn't see it. "She's here, she knew where to find you," Edward explained.
"My hand hurts," she remarked.
"I know, Bella. Carlisle will give you something, it will stop," he tried to sooth her, giving Carlisle a worried look.
"My hand is burning!" Bella screamed suddenly.
"Bella?" Edward checked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.
"The fire!" she persisted. "Someone stop the fire!"
I suddenly got a flash of déjà vu, which was odd for a vampire. We have perfect recall, so we should just remember what triggers that feeling in humans. As I listened to Bella's screaming, I looked around the dance studio. That feeling wasn't going away. But I had no memories associated with this place. Or any dance studio. I frowned.
"Carlisle!" Edward exclaimed, bringing me back to the present. I chalked up the odd déjà vu feeling to just having seen this place so many times in my visions. "Her hand!"
Carlisle and I both looked at her hand. I made the realization as he said it. "He bit her," he scoffed.
Edward's breath caught and I could see the horror in his eyes. This was it. "Edward, you have to do it," I declared quickly. I noticed Bella was crying and I gently wiped at her tears.
"No!" he roared.
"Alice," Bella moaned.
"There may be a chance," Carlisle noted.
I frowned. "What?" Edward begged.
"See if you can suck the venom back out," Carlisle explained. Edward and I exchanged terrified glances. "The wound is fairly clean."
I didn't want that. That was more risky. And what was wrong with just letting her become one of us? She's family. She belongs. I saw it! "Will that work?" I asked, my voice strained.
"I don't know," Carlisle confessed. "But we have to hurry.
Edward looked torn and pained. "Carlisle, I…I don't know if I can do that," he choked out.
"It's your decision, Edward, either way. I can't help you," Carlisle reminded him.
Please, Edward! Just add a couple more bites and let her change! She's practically dead anyway! I begged him.
He glared at me fiercely. We all exchanged glances. I sighed in defeat. His decision was made. He didn't want to do it. Not now, not ever. But I knew better. I knew he'd come around. "I have to get this bleeding stopped here if you're going to be taking blood from her hand," Carlisle pointed out.
He didn't want to let the venom spread, but he was still unsure he could take it out. "Edward!" Bella shrieked suddenly.
I felt horrible for him as I saw his face. He looked pained. Just let her change. She'll be alright when it's over. I urged him gently.
"Alice, get me something to brace her leg!" Carlisle ordered. I sighed and set to work. "Edward, you must do it now, or it will be too late."
I glanced up at Edward. He was fearful, but then it suddenly changed to determined. I couldn't help but smile. It quickly faded as I realized that more of Bella's screams would soon follow. It pained us all to listen to her agony. Carlisle and I held her steady while Edward bent down and began to suck the venom from her hand. Immediately, she began to scream and thrash about. Carlisle and I had no trouble holding her steady, but there was nothing to be done about the screaming.
"It's okay, Bella," I tried to reassure her. "Edward's taking the pain away. You'll be fine. It'll all be over soon."
My words were useless. She never stopped screaming. As the venom left her body though, the screaming subsided. Carlisle and I exchanged relieved glances. "Edward," she mumbled.
"He's right here, Bella," I assured her.
"Stay, Edward, stay with me," she pleaded weakly.
"I will," he promised. I couldn't help but beam at the look of triumph on his face. I glanced at Carlisle and saw he was beaming as well.
"Is it all out?" he checked.
"Her blood tastes clean," Edward answered quietly. "I can taste the morphine."
"Bella?" Carlisle checked. She only managed a small mumble in response. "Is the fire gone?" he continued.
"Yes," she mumbled with a sigh. "Thank you, Edward."
"I love you," he sighed.
"I know," she breathed.
Edward chuckled quietly, and I could see him relax. We all exchanged relieved glances. But there was one more issue to attend to and, naturally, Carlisle was the one to think of it. "Bella?" he asked again.
"What?" she muttered, frowning.
Edward and I smiled. "Where is your mother?" Carlisle questioned.
Bella sighed. "In Florida," she informed us. "He tricked me, Edward. He watched our videos."
That was a relief. One thing we didn't need to worry about. "Alice," Bella suddenly exclaimed weakly. I looked at her in alarm. "Alice, the video – he knew you, Alice, he knew where you came from."
I was stunned. This cruel hunter knew me? I heard Edward and Carlisle talking but it was all background noise to me. How does – well, did – he know me? I suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Carlisle, looking at my concerned. Edward had Bella in his arms. They were getting ready to leave.
"Would you like to meet us at the hospital?" he asked.
I merely nodded. He gave me one small nod in return before the three of them left. Slowly, I approached the video camera I now noticed perched on top of the stereo. With slow, careful movements, I picked it up and hit rewind. I tried not to watch most of the tape. It was painful. He was sadistic. I couldn't stand the thought that Bella had almost…
I shuddered. Suddenly, the part came. I knew it instinctively. "The answer was there all along, and I was so afraid Edward would see that and ruin my fun," the James on the tape remarked. Alice knew
what he was talking about. And he was wrong. Edward had seen it. He just refused to do it. "It happened once, oh, ages ago," James continued. "The one and only time my prey escaped me.
"You see, the vampire who was so stupidly fond of this little victim made the choice that your Edward was too weak to make," he explained. I fumed with anger. How dare he call Edward weak! By not condemning here to this fate, he's stronger than any of us! I may not agree with his decision but how dare that…that monster called Edward weak!
"When the old one knew I was after his little friend, he stole her from the asylum where he worked – I never will understand the obsession some vampires seem to form with you humans – and as soon as he freed her he made her safe."
I gasped. Asylum? "She didn't even seem to notice the pain, poor little creature," James remarked. It was me. I was the only vampire we'd ever met who didn't remember the pain of the transformation. "She'd been stuck in that black hole of a cell for so long. A hundred years earlier and she would have been burned at the stake for her visions." Visions. So I'd always had these visions. "In the nineteen-twenties it was the asylum and the shock treatment." I felt a jolt of pain. "When she opened her eyes, strong with her fresh youth, it was like she'd never seen the sun before." It was true. This sadistic vampire really did know me. And he'd tried to kill me. That was why I was a vampire.
"The old vampire made her a strong new vampire, and there was no reason for me to touch her then," he recalled with a sigh. "I destroyed the old one in vengeance." That explains why I was alone.
"Alice." I'd nearly forgotten that Bella was there, in the video. I went to turn it off, but I froze as James began to speak again.
"Yes, your little friend. I wassurprised to see her in the clearing. So I guess her coven ought to be able to derive some comfort from this experience. I get you, but they get her." I shuddered and snarled at the James in the video. I can't believe we almost let him get her. We were almost too late. "The one victim who escaped me," he went on, "quite an honor, actually. And she did smell so delicious." I'd never thought about how I might've smelt as a human. I don't think any of us had. Carlisle would know how most of us had smelt if we ever wanted to know.
"I still regret that I never got to taste…She smelled even better than you do." I had no human blood in me now and hadn't for quite some time. Yet his words still sent chills through me. Perhaps it was just knowing what he was intending to do to Bella. "Sorry – I don't mean to be offensive. You have a very nice smell. Floral, somehow…"
He stepped towards her and I knew that was all I needed to see. I turned the tape off quickly. Exhaling slowly and still holding the camera, I looked around the desolate dance studio. It did have that deja vou feeling. Was I changed in a dance studio? Is that why Bella's screams first made me feel this way? No, that wasn't logical. I was being hunted…I was freed from an asylum…I wouldn't have been in a dance studio. Perhaps then…could it have been a human memory? I took in every inch of the surface. I willed my past back to me. But nothing more came than that annoying feeling of déjà vu.
I must've been right. It must just have been from seeing all my visions here. However, it would be interesting to do a little bit of research into my past later on. A slight smile crept onto my face. I pulled the box of matches out of my pocket. With the smoke from James's ashes, we'd decided we'd have to burn the studio to cover it up. I looked around the room one last time. It was practically destroyed anyway. In one fluid motion, I gathered up the matches, lightly them all in rapid succession. I held them all up and danced around the room, sprinkling them as I went.
As I watched this foreign place go up in flames, I felt a strange pang of sadness. It really was peculiar. But the building had begun to crumble rapidly now and the smoke was dark and rising fast. The fire department would arrive soon. I looked around the ballet studio one last time. On a sudden urge, I brought my foot to my knee and spun around gracefully, whipping my head around as I went. When I stopped, I felt strange.
Hurriedly, I left it all behind. As I ran from the burning building into a side street, I never looked back. I found a car parked there with tinted windows. I quickly hopped in and sped off to the hospital. My mind went back to the burning dance studio. Not only was I burning someone's studio and possible all their hopes and dreams, but I was burning one of Bella's childhood memories. Maybe it wasn't a fond one, but she remembered it. On the other hand, I was now burning one of her horrible memories. Most prominently though, I couldn't help but feel that with it, I was burning my human past to the ground.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your feedback! I have another, much shorter, Twilight fic I wrote that I plan to post soon as well. It will be called Thorns of Doubt so if you liked this, keep an eye out for that as well! I hope you all enjoyed my first ever Twilight fic and, again, I'd love to hear what you think! Thanks!
-TheaterBug-