Skye Says: And here… we… GO.

Disclaimer: I own everyone here but the charries from the movie, whom I love to death and would never claim as my own.


Chapter One

That first day back to work was probably harder for Coralee than it was for me. I had always been able to process grief more easily when I was busy. Coralee, on the other hand, was hardly able to get out of bed Monday. I had to pull the covers off of her and physically drag her to the bathroom to get a shower; and even then, I had to sit in the bathroom with her because she was just standing under the cold shower, sobbing.

After our parents died, she'd stayed in her bedroom for almost a month, lying in bed with the lights off and the window open and the fan on full speed. I suspected that she dealt with the frozen pain of grief by changing her surroundings so that they were just as cold as she was.

Because Coralee could hardly even think at this point, I drove the beat-up pickup truck to the lingerie boutique. When we walked in, Cheryl glanced up from the cash register and shook her head. "Ya'll are ten minutes late, and Barb's already pissed."

"Shut up. My brother died last week, remember?" God, people were so rude sometimes. She didn't have to take her divorce out on everyone she saw. "How's Harry?"

"Screw you, Coleman."

Coralee mumbled something about minding my manners, but I paid her no heed. It was Cheryl's fault I wasn't able to smoke anymore- every time I left a pack lying out in the shop, she threw it away-

All because her husband had left her for a twenty-something Playboy Playmate wannabe. And because she's had to move from Nashville to Denton, and she was teased in Ohio for having such a Southern accent.

And also because she had a severe case of asthma.

Coralee brushed past me to the bathroom in the back of the store. I saw the light go on under the door, heard the fan whir to a start, heard Coralee sigh.

Barbara Herring eyed me suspiciously as I punched in, leaning over my shoulder as if to get a better look at the timestamp. She pushed her glasses higher up on her nose, made a tsking noise. "Rhapsody, darling… you know the rules."

"I know I'm late, Barbara. Can you cut me a little slack? Jason-"

"Yes, yes, let's skip the sob story." She rolled her eyes, laying a broad hand on my shoulder. Her short, cracked nails and neglected cuticles were looking worse than ever. Business must be worse than I thought. "It's been two weeks, dear. Don't you think it's time you moved on?"

My blood shot into my face. "It's been one week," I snapped angrily, slapping her arm away from me, "not that you would ever notice. Besides that, you have man hands!"

"Hot dang, Barb!" Cheryl yelled from the front of the store. "This here magazine says the reason Nixon resigned was because he had himself an affair with an alien hooker!"

"Get a freaking life, Cheryl!" I turned away from Barbara and headed for the back door.

My boss cleared her throat and swore, obviously livid. "And just where do you think you're going?"

"Outside, you whorish slug!"

I could feel her eyes drilling holes in the back of my head. "Stay there, then, because you're officially terminated. I hope that door hits you on the way out."

My one-finger salute was the only reply she received as I walked out the exit and into the parking lot.

As soon as I was outside, I swept my long blonde hair into a messy bun and groped the side of the building. The pads of my fingers scraped against the rough brick with a certain familiarity- yeah, I had been here many times before. I always had to hide cigarettes from Cheryl, and she was way too stupid to look for them in the wall.

I hummed to myself as the loose brick slid free, smiling as I opened the pack and pulled out my lighter. A flick of my thumb, a sweet second or two, and I was smoking again, the events of this morning completely forgotten.

Amazing what a puff of nicotine could do to a person.

I made my way over to my truck, floating on cloud nine as I flicked ash onto the sidewalk. Smoking was something Coralee had always frowned upon, but when she realized that Mr. Nick A. Teen was the only one who could staunch my tireless rage, she relented a little. After that, I'd been allowed to smoke whenever I wanted, as long as I opened a window.

I sat on the open gate of the truckbed, legs dangling over the edge, and exhaled a cloud of smoke. Coralee had tried to get me to take anger management classes once, but none of the exercises the therapist taught me gave me the kind of relief I got from smoking. Or sex; but that was a whole other story.

"Sssssexxxxx…" The word came out in a hiss and another rush of smoke. I chuckled, relishing the delicious way the words resonated in my throat. I'd been a lesbian all my life- well, for as long as I could remember. It wasn't that the idea of being with a man repulsed me or anything; it was just that I had only ever fooled around with women before- and that was all I needed, really. Most men were put off by my temper and aggression.

I laughed again, louder this time, and I felt a light blush spreading through my cheeks. Coralee had suspected my orientation for a long time, but I don't think she ever knew for sure until she found out that Columbia and I had been together a couple times before she disappeared. I talk in my sleep, see, and after Columbia was gone, I slept in Coralee's room because I was so afraid of losing someone else. It didn't take long for her to figure out that Columbia and I had been so much more than friends. My sister was more accepting of my sexuality than I thought she'd be- her only condition was that I never bring a woman to our house, unless I was ready to commit or whatever.

Since Columbia, though… nothing I'd had had been more than a brief infatuation. Nothing even came close to what I had with Columbia.

I wasn't sure anything else ever would.

"Columbia."

I took another draw on the cigarette, closing my eyes as I exhaled. Where was Columbia, anyway? Could it be that she was still out there somewhere, living and breathing- alive after all? Was she safe? Was she with someone she could love, someone she could trust; someone that would promise to watch over her for the rest of her life?

Did she remember me?

Did she miss me?

"Rhapsody Coleman! Get back in here before I call the cops and have you arrested for trespassing!"

Barbara. "What the-"

"You heard me! You're lucky I'm giving you a second chance!" She stepped out from behind the door and glared at the cigarette in my fingers. "And put that thing out before Cheryl lapses into a coma or something!"

I bit my tongue to keep from cussing her out and dropped the cigarette, hopping down from the truck to stomp on the end. As much as I hated Cheryl, her out-of-place Southern drawl, and her asthma, I knew that Coralee and I needed all the money we could get. If Barbara was willing to let me continue to work, I was going to have to work- whether I liked it or not.

I shoved open the door to the shop and pulled it closed behind me. Barbara stood in the middle of the back room, raising a fire-red eyebrow at me.

"What?"

"You've got someone out there waiting to see you," she replied. "Says he hears you're an expert on corsets."

"Well, I am." What was she talking about, anyway? Cheryl knew lingerie, too- we all did here. This was a lingerie boutique, after all. The only one in Denton, but that was pretty much to be expected in a small town. I wasn't a corset "expert", though- I wore them, and I helped sell them, but I didn't make them or anything. Why would- "Wait, did you say 'he'?"

Barbara rolled her eyes, latching onto my arm. "Oh, don't be so naïve. He's probably come to buy something for his girlfriend, though I've gotta say… guy seems a little avant garde, if you ask me."

"I didn't."

Her grip tightened as she shoved me out into the main room of the store, my pulse rattling my ribcage as if my body already knew what was coming.

As soon as we passed the cash register, I saw him- and nearly choked.

A tall, overly-made up drag queen was standing in front of the clearance rack, trying to convince a very anxious Cheryl that he absolutely knew the corset in his hands was the right size.

Barbara smiled solicitously, digging her nonexistent nails into my arm. "Cheryl, Rhapsody has volunteered to take it from here. You may go on lunch break now."

Sweat beaded on Cheryl's forehead, and every muscle in her body was tense. "T-t-t-thank you. I-uh-uh-I-"

"You're dismissed, sweetheart," the man clarified. "Get out."

Cheryl's eyes widened as the man smirked, and she whirled around and bolted out the door.

"Here you are, sir," Barbara said loudly, shoving me in front of her as if I were some sort of shield. I had never known Barbara to be afraid of anyone. "I brought Rhapsody, just as you requested."

"So I see…" His eyes slid from hers to mine, and his dark-painted lips curved upwards in amusement as I stared right back at him, unblinking. "Rhapsody, hm? I've heard oh-so much about you."

What was that supposed to mean?

"You may go," he said to Barbara. "We've some… private things to discuss." He looked at me like I was a piece of meat, and I was suddenly self-conscious about the low-cut red shirt and tight, short black skirt I'd chosen to wear to work. Never in my life had I noticed a man look at me that way. I wasn't sure how I felt about it, either.

Barbara's mouth hung open a minute. "Excuse me?"

"I'm quite certain you heard me. Your presence here is no longer required, babe, but thanks for all the help."

"What are you-"

"Leave."

Barbara swallowed and released me, huffing in indignance as she sashayed to the back.

I was left alone with the sweet transvestite.

"Now," he said warmly, holding up the corset he'd been admiring, "would you mind taking my measurements, please?"


Skye Also Says: I'm going to try to reveal more of who Rhapsody is as the story progresses. Again, I'd love it if you could help me keep her from becoming a Mary Sue.

She's about to find out that death isn't the only thing that could change her life forever…