Transformation:
I looked up into intense blue eyes, and lost myself. He was the one on the painting in the second room. I had spent so many of my dreams watching his face up on the wall stare down at me with the same look he wore, but it had changed slightly since then. He looked concerned for me, and almost sympathetic, but I hadn't the strength to say anything even though I felt the angel expected me to.
I was right in naming him an angel. I backed away a little, and I saw the full extent of his beauty. The angel's silhouette stood against the very large window behind him, and white, feathered wings shone brilliantly in the dark. Beautiful..
"I'm sorry," He said finally, with a beautifully deep voice that echoed through the room. He turned his eyes and face from me, so I could no longer see the cobalt blue eyes that had captivated me so completely a moment before. Slowly crossing his arms, he rotated his entire body to look at another wall.
He was simply perfect in every way, and it made my heart jump, the way he looked at me. I wished he would look at me that way again.
"S.Sorry for what?"
"We can't leave." He told me quite seriously, and almost as if it was his own fault.
"What do you mean 'we'? This is my dream."
"Dream..?" He was silent for a moment and stared disbelieving at me for a minute. I couldn't understand. What was so hard to believe?
"You're DREAMING this," the angel realized seriously with the tiniest hint of a question. He then looked at me, almost lost, and very lonely, beginning to walk over to the other end of the room. He was going to leave!
"Wait.!!" I protested, even though I knew it was already too late.
"I shouldn't have come," the angel softly interrupted, although he had my complete attention, turning his head painfully back at me once more before disappearing silently into the shadows.
The angel was gone, and I didn't even notice when I started crying. The angel was so beautiful, and I had caused that pained look on his face.
A white angel, a mysterious dream, a protective voice, and coal black wings, what does it all mean? I cried into the mirror, staring helplessly at the person in the mirror that cried right back at me, only he was more sorrowful. He had to live with those wings forever. Good thing this was only a dream.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I woke up slowly from my illusion and was a little startled, but definitely relieved that it was indeed, only an illusion. It sure felt real, but I'm sure that was simply my overactive imagination running away with me again.
I yawned loudly in my new apartment, and took a look at my watch. It was just about 11, and I needed to get ready. After all, I had a very important job to do today...find one.
I quickly put on my favorite black pants and leather jacket, with a tight, red turtle-neck underneath. It took me a little longer to brush and braid my hair, and I bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen. I was greeted by my manager, Trowa, was it? Curious blue eyes peeked across the room and the cheery young blond man hopped over to greet me.
"Hello! My name's Quatre Raberba Winner," he extended his hand, and I shook it gratefully. I widened my smile at the gesture; at least someone was happy around here.
"I'm Duo, Duo Maxwell." I announced a little less than proudly, realizing the name for the first time in a long time and all that it encompassed. Truth be told, I never really knew who I was, and only had just recently become close to finding out.
"Hey, Trowa!" I waved at the silent man at the toaster who nodded, but didn't smile.
"You should eat something, Duo. How long ago have you eaten, exactly?" Trowa looked concerned for his new tenant, me. I haven't had someone be worried about me beside the 'voice' in my whole life. It made me feel surprisingly good.
"Ok, mom, I get the point." I said, sitting at the table. Quatre laughed at this comment and went back to the coffeemaker he had been at previously, grabbing the cup that was meant for himself, but instead, gave it to me.
I looked at him, first confused, but still grateful at the offer, as if to ask why.
"I'll get another cup for myself, it's no trouble at all," He answered my silent question and practically skipped over to the coffeemaker to wait for another cup's worth.
"T.thanks, but." I looked up sorrowfully at Trowa, who was now handing me a slice of toast, ".I have nothing to give in return."
"We don't expect anything in return," Trowa said quite seriously and pushed the food closer. I couldn't believe these people were actually doing this without expecting anything at all. It was something in the green eyes that told me he expected nothing in return. I had never been showed such hospitality in my whole life, and I could tell we were going to become good friends.
"Gee, thanks," I said as my maturity level dropped and I hungrily devoured the toast, chugged down the coffee, and sped out the door, "Thanks Tro! Quat! See ya in a few!"
I doubted they heard me. Good breakfast, though, I thought as I walked down the streets of the city, and quickly stopped in a general store for a newspaper. I discarded all but the job postings.
The first job I saw was telemarketing. Well, I enjoyed annoying people, but it just wasn't for me. I could be an interpretive dance instructor, but no amount of money is worth the humiliation. Not that I had any dignity left, of course. It had pretty much all been lost the first time I tried to hide. It's funny how people like me never learn from their mistakes.
It was then that I saw it; the perfect job. I passed all the qualifications, too. I had plenty of previous singing references, and plenty of experience. Actually, singing was my main source of income during all of my travels, even though it could barely pay for the cost of the amount of hair care products I use every month.even the cheap kinds.
I had a feeling that this job wasn't going to pay any better, but at least it was something, and you'd better bet I was going to have fun. I went to the nearest phone booth on the street and searched my pockets for spare change; just enough for one call. I looked at the number on the newspaper and dialed. It took a couple of rings before I heard a voice on the other end.
"Hello?"
"Yeah, hi, ummm, is this Chang Wufei?" I stumbled over the half-smeared name on the paper.
"Yes, who is this?" The man sounded skeptical, almost ready to hang up. If I didn't do something he'd hang up and I wouldn't have enough change to call again. I panicked.
"I'm calling about the singing job. My name's Duo Maxwell."
"Do you live in the city?"
"Yes."
"Do you have references?"
"Yes."
"Then you have an audition. Meet me at the corner of 5th and 24th as soon as possible. I'm on my way out right now, is that all right?"
"That's just fine with me." I answered happily. It was the perfect way to spend my first afternoon back in the city.
"Great. See you there." I heard a click and the dial tone. I put the phone back on the hook and continued my journey to the center of the commotion of the place. It was amazing how the city seemed to grow as I neared the heart of the city, and not long after, came upon the designated meeting place.
I leaned against the wall to some building, kind of blending in a little and waiting for a few minutes, looking to see what was going on. It wasn't long till I noticed a serious-looking young Chinese man with a short, black ponytail who hadn't followed the crowds with the white of the walk sign for quite some time, now. I came up out of my little hiding place and positioned myself where I was sure he'd be able to see me waiting.
"Are you Duo Maxwell?" He came up to me and cautiously asked. The guy was quite the looker; and I probably would have fallen for him right then if I didn't have my eye on someone else at the moment.
"Sure am! Nice to meet you, Wufei," I extended my hand with a similar friendliness that Quatre had shown me, and the young man reluctantly accepted, and motioned for me to follow him.
I was surprised at how trusting he was being towards me; I never had really been accepted by so many people like this before. It's just because they didn't know who I was, well, neither did I, but once they knew something, they would hate me. I had tried so hard for so long not to fit in, so that people would stay away from me, and save themselves the pain. It was so hard to keep myself ostracized, because it hurt me so much. This time I was being selfish, because I was letting all of them become my friends. I was such a fool.
We reached a building and he showed me inside and up several flights of stairs to a small room with a piano.
"So, you play in clubs and things, right?" I asked, leaning against the walls, testing the acoustics of the room with my loud voice. It wasn't terrible.
"Yes. I'm just the lowly pianist and manager of the band. The guys can be so irresponsible sometimes, and they left me to choose the new singer," he growled, almost not wanting me to hear, but I heard well enough, all right. Good. If the band members were bastards, I wouldn't have to worry about making friends with them.
"S'okay Wu-man," I patted him on the shoulder, and he shook my arm off him indiscreetly, walking over to the piano, "What do you want me to sing?"
"Anything you want, I guess, unless you prefer an introduction, but I don't think you're that arrogant. I can pick it up as you go." Wufei smirked, obviously confident in his own skills. It was almost a challenge.
I accepted.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"YES!" I yelled in a rare burst of joy, bouncing down the crowded sidewalk.
I couldn't believe Wu-man actually gave me the job! I was cheery, true, but only because I hadn't a reason to be so happy in a really long time. The truth being, I was exhausted, and hungry, but I swallowed my hunger along with my weariness for a moment of meek bliss that I wanted to last forever.
I quietly pushed the open door to the building, where Quatre was doing some renovations on the old place. He looked kind of cute with his apron that was splattered with random drops of blue. It matched his eyes nicely. Quatre held the paintbrush like a weapon at me as I opened the door, probably expecting a stranger, ready to tackle the criminal to the ground and restrain him with the wide-bristled canvas implement. It was a funny thought, at least.
"Hey, Q. It's just me, Duo, remember?" I held my hands up in surrender at the threatening brush. Blue eyes softened and Quatre smiled as Trowa came around the corner, apron splattered with paint, to see what the commotion was about.
"We've been putting off painting this old place for over a year. It's about time we did something about it, especially since there's another one of us living in this dump." Quatre explained, pointing to the paint.
"Would you like me to help?" I offered, but Trowa shook his head.
"You look much too tired. Don't trouble yourself, Duo. There'll be plenty more for you to do after you get some rest." Trowa looked me over, and Quatre nodded to agree that I looked pretty horrible.
"Then I guess I'll see you in an hour or so," I waved lazily at my new friends and climbed the stairs up to my apartment, collapsing on the bed, feeling the rough bedspread underneath me was like heaven.
I guess I hadn't noticed the bags that were growing under my eyes, not so much from lack of sleep, I didn't think, but from everything that has been going on these days. My outing that afternoon had almost made me forget that, even though every other second I was thinking about the angel in my dream.
He wasn't real, I know, but he was just so beautiful, so perfect, and if I could only see him in my dreams, it would be enough. I knew that last night when I met him that I would never love another, and longed for sleep, when there was hope of seeing him once again.
....Before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep and was suddenly inside the room with the mirror. I didn't even have a chance to walk there and see the broken floorboards on the landing, but I did notice that the room seemed slightly older than it had the previous night. The angel said before that we couldn't leave. Did he mean the house, or my dream? I checked the door, my only exit, and it was once again locked.
Sliding down helplessly onto the floor, I sat, my back facing the door, and proceeded to watch the moon through the window, and the mirror it shone upon. I didn't want to look in the mirror, not again. It only showed me lies, and I never lied to anyone. How was I supposed to uphold that promise if I lied to myself?
I watched the moon as it stood in the sky. It felt like hours that I sat there, and it seemed that the moon should have moved by that time. I had gone to pacing the room, and calling out loud to the angel to come and talk to me, never once looking in the mirror.
I passed what seemed to be so long in that room, just thinking. It was deadly dull, and then I became fixated on the mirror, the curiosity finally getting to me. It didn't hurt to look after all. I knew what I'd find anyway. Looking into the mirror, sure enough, were the two black wings folded up behind me, and there was no way I could make sure they were actually real, because if I attempted, it would only bring me to a worse nightmare. I had tried this too many times. It was better to succumb to the wishes of a dream I had no control over.
I looked down and started fiddling with my hands in front of the mirror, and then, looking up into the mirror again, I saw a flash of white and blue cobalt eyes that stared at me through the mirror. My heart sped, and I spun around in hopes of meeting with him just one more time, when I found myself awake, sitting up in bed, and breathing heavily.
I grabbed my braid and started fiddling with the end, going over my dream in my head. I just wanted to see my angel again.
I got up off the bed, which I hadn't even gotten into, and walked downstairs, still a little drained from the dream. Quatre and Trowa were happily working, putting a second coat of paint on their first wall when I came in.
A paintbrush trembled and then fell from the shaking hand of the blond who had just laid eyes on me. He fainted.
"Quat!" I yelled, running down the stairs to help my friend, even though I had no idea what just happened.
"S..S..Stay BACK!" Trowa startled me, as he held his hand up, quite shaken, and just kept staring at me.
"What did I do?" I asked in protest, using my hands to show my absolute unknowing of what was going on. Trowa simply pointed a wary finger at me, but it seemed as if he was looking above me.
/There was no way../
I took one glance above, and there they were; black wings that had just lost me the only friends I had.
I took one look at them and broke into tears, running to the apartment in a state of pure sadness. I threw my unpacked belongings back into the suitcase I had grown to know so well, dampening some of them with salty tears that wouldn't leave. At least something wouldn't leave me. Everything else had. But if I left this time, I asked myself as another tear grazed my cheek, where would I go?
Tbc?
********************
Thanks so much to all my reviewers, Miss Kissranada, seamaidian, matchbox, and Elle-FaTe2x1!
I hope this chapter was worth the wait, and there may be others..I'm still not sure.
Oh please review! I love reviews!
Thank you!
I looked up into intense blue eyes, and lost myself. He was the one on the painting in the second room. I had spent so many of my dreams watching his face up on the wall stare down at me with the same look he wore, but it had changed slightly since then. He looked concerned for me, and almost sympathetic, but I hadn't the strength to say anything even though I felt the angel expected me to.
I was right in naming him an angel. I backed away a little, and I saw the full extent of his beauty. The angel's silhouette stood against the very large window behind him, and white, feathered wings shone brilliantly in the dark. Beautiful..
"I'm sorry," He said finally, with a beautifully deep voice that echoed through the room. He turned his eyes and face from me, so I could no longer see the cobalt blue eyes that had captivated me so completely a moment before. Slowly crossing his arms, he rotated his entire body to look at another wall.
He was simply perfect in every way, and it made my heart jump, the way he looked at me. I wished he would look at me that way again.
"S.Sorry for what?"
"We can't leave." He told me quite seriously, and almost as if it was his own fault.
"What do you mean 'we'? This is my dream."
"Dream..?" He was silent for a moment and stared disbelieving at me for a minute. I couldn't understand. What was so hard to believe?
"You're DREAMING this," the angel realized seriously with the tiniest hint of a question. He then looked at me, almost lost, and very lonely, beginning to walk over to the other end of the room. He was going to leave!
"Wait.!!" I protested, even though I knew it was already too late.
"I shouldn't have come," the angel softly interrupted, although he had my complete attention, turning his head painfully back at me once more before disappearing silently into the shadows.
The angel was gone, and I didn't even notice when I started crying. The angel was so beautiful, and I had caused that pained look on his face.
A white angel, a mysterious dream, a protective voice, and coal black wings, what does it all mean? I cried into the mirror, staring helplessly at the person in the mirror that cried right back at me, only he was more sorrowful. He had to live with those wings forever. Good thing this was only a dream.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I woke up slowly from my illusion and was a little startled, but definitely relieved that it was indeed, only an illusion. It sure felt real, but I'm sure that was simply my overactive imagination running away with me again.
I yawned loudly in my new apartment, and took a look at my watch. It was just about 11, and I needed to get ready. After all, I had a very important job to do today...find one.
I quickly put on my favorite black pants and leather jacket, with a tight, red turtle-neck underneath. It took me a little longer to brush and braid my hair, and I bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen. I was greeted by my manager, Trowa, was it? Curious blue eyes peeked across the room and the cheery young blond man hopped over to greet me.
"Hello! My name's Quatre Raberba Winner," he extended his hand, and I shook it gratefully. I widened my smile at the gesture; at least someone was happy around here.
"I'm Duo, Duo Maxwell." I announced a little less than proudly, realizing the name for the first time in a long time and all that it encompassed. Truth be told, I never really knew who I was, and only had just recently become close to finding out.
"Hey, Trowa!" I waved at the silent man at the toaster who nodded, but didn't smile.
"You should eat something, Duo. How long ago have you eaten, exactly?" Trowa looked concerned for his new tenant, me. I haven't had someone be worried about me beside the 'voice' in my whole life. It made me feel surprisingly good.
"Ok, mom, I get the point." I said, sitting at the table. Quatre laughed at this comment and went back to the coffeemaker he had been at previously, grabbing the cup that was meant for himself, but instead, gave it to me.
I looked at him, first confused, but still grateful at the offer, as if to ask why.
"I'll get another cup for myself, it's no trouble at all," He answered my silent question and practically skipped over to the coffeemaker to wait for another cup's worth.
"T.thanks, but." I looked up sorrowfully at Trowa, who was now handing me a slice of toast, ".I have nothing to give in return."
"We don't expect anything in return," Trowa said quite seriously and pushed the food closer. I couldn't believe these people were actually doing this without expecting anything at all. It was something in the green eyes that told me he expected nothing in return. I had never been showed such hospitality in my whole life, and I could tell we were going to become good friends.
"Gee, thanks," I said as my maturity level dropped and I hungrily devoured the toast, chugged down the coffee, and sped out the door, "Thanks Tro! Quat! See ya in a few!"
I doubted they heard me. Good breakfast, though, I thought as I walked down the streets of the city, and quickly stopped in a general store for a newspaper. I discarded all but the job postings.
The first job I saw was telemarketing. Well, I enjoyed annoying people, but it just wasn't for me. I could be an interpretive dance instructor, but no amount of money is worth the humiliation. Not that I had any dignity left, of course. It had pretty much all been lost the first time I tried to hide. It's funny how people like me never learn from their mistakes.
It was then that I saw it; the perfect job. I passed all the qualifications, too. I had plenty of previous singing references, and plenty of experience. Actually, singing was my main source of income during all of my travels, even though it could barely pay for the cost of the amount of hair care products I use every month.even the cheap kinds.
I had a feeling that this job wasn't going to pay any better, but at least it was something, and you'd better bet I was going to have fun. I went to the nearest phone booth on the street and searched my pockets for spare change; just enough for one call. I looked at the number on the newspaper and dialed. It took a couple of rings before I heard a voice on the other end.
"Hello?"
"Yeah, hi, ummm, is this Chang Wufei?" I stumbled over the half-smeared name on the paper.
"Yes, who is this?" The man sounded skeptical, almost ready to hang up. If I didn't do something he'd hang up and I wouldn't have enough change to call again. I panicked.
"I'm calling about the singing job. My name's Duo Maxwell."
"Do you live in the city?"
"Yes."
"Do you have references?"
"Yes."
"Then you have an audition. Meet me at the corner of 5th and 24th as soon as possible. I'm on my way out right now, is that all right?"
"That's just fine with me." I answered happily. It was the perfect way to spend my first afternoon back in the city.
"Great. See you there." I heard a click and the dial tone. I put the phone back on the hook and continued my journey to the center of the commotion of the place. It was amazing how the city seemed to grow as I neared the heart of the city, and not long after, came upon the designated meeting place.
I leaned against the wall to some building, kind of blending in a little and waiting for a few minutes, looking to see what was going on. It wasn't long till I noticed a serious-looking young Chinese man with a short, black ponytail who hadn't followed the crowds with the white of the walk sign for quite some time, now. I came up out of my little hiding place and positioned myself where I was sure he'd be able to see me waiting.
"Are you Duo Maxwell?" He came up to me and cautiously asked. The guy was quite the looker; and I probably would have fallen for him right then if I didn't have my eye on someone else at the moment.
"Sure am! Nice to meet you, Wufei," I extended my hand with a similar friendliness that Quatre had shown me, and the young man reluctantly accepted, and motioned for me to follow him.
I was surprised at how trusting he was being towards me; I never had really been accepted by so many people like this before. It's just because they didn't know who I was, well, neither did I, but once they knew something, they would hate me. I had tried so hard for so long not to fit in, so that people would stay away from me, and save themselves the pain. It was so hard to keep myself ostracized, because it hurt me so much. This time I was being selfish, because I was letting all of them become my friends. I was such a fool.
We reached a building and he showed me inside and up several flights of stairs to a small room with a piano.
"So, you play in clubs and things, right?" I asked, leaning against the walls, testing the acoustics of the room with my loud voice. It wasn't terrible.
"Yes. I'm just the lowly pianist and manager of the band. The guys can be so irresponsible sometimes, and they left me to choose the new singer," he growled, almost not wanting me to hear, but I heard well enough, all right. Good. If the band members were bastards, I wouldn't have to worry about making friends with them.
"S'okay Wu-man," I patted him on the shoulder, and he shook my arm off him indiscreetly, walking over to the piano, "What do you want me to sing?"
"Anything you want, I guess, unless you prefer an introduction, but I don't think you're that arrogant. I can pick it up as you go." Wufei smirked, obviously confident in his own skills. It was almost a challenge.
I accepted.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"YES!" I yelled in a rare burst of joy, bouncing down the crowded sidewalk.
I couldn't believe Wu-man actually gave me the job! I was cheery, true, but only because I hadn't a reason to be so happy in a really long time. The truth being, I was exhausted, and hungry, but I swallowed my hunger along with my weariness for a moment of meek bliss that I wanted to last forever.
I quietly pushed the open door to the building, where Quatre was doing some renovations on the old place. He looked kind of cute with his apron that was splattered with random drops of blue. It matched his eyes nicely. Quatre held the paintbrush like a weapon at me as I opened the door, probably expecting a stranger, ready to tackle the criminal to the ground and restrain him with the wide-bristled canvas implement. It was a funny thought, at least.
"Hey, Q. It's just me, Duo, remember?" I held my hands up in surrender at the threatening brush. Blue eyes softened and Quatre smiled as Trowa came around the corner, apron splattered with paint, to see what the commotion was about.
"We've been putting off painting this old place for over a year. It's about time we did something about it, especially since there's another one of us living in this dump." Quatre explained, pointing to the paint.
"Would you like me to help?" I offered, but Trowa shook his head.
"You look much too tired. Don't trouble yourself, Duo. There'll be plenty more for you to do after you get some rest." Trowa looked me over, and Quatre nodded to agree that I looked pretty horrible.
"Then I guess I'll see you in an hour or so," I waved lazily at my new friends and climbed the stairs up to my apartment, collapsing on the bed, feeling the rough bedspread underneath me was like heaven.
I guess I hadn't noticed the bags that were growing under my eyes, not so much from lack of sleep, I didn't think, but from everything that has been going on these days. My outing that afternoon had almost made me forget that, even though every other second I was thinking about the angel in my dream.
He wasn't real, I know, but he was just so beautiful, so perfect, and if I could only see him in my dreams, it would be enough. I knew that last night when I met him that I would never love another, and longed for sleep, when there was hope of seeing him once again.
....Before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep and was suddenly inside the room with the mirror. I didn't even have a chance to walk there and see the broken floorboards on the landing, but I did notice that the room seemed slightly older than it had the previous night. The angel said before that we couldn't leave. Did he mean the house, or my dream? I checked the door, my only exit, and it was once again locked.
Sliding down helplessly onto the floor, I sat, my back facing the door, and proceeded to watch the moon through the window, and the mirror it shone upon. I didn't want to look in the mirror, not again. It only showed me lies, and I never lied to anyone. How was I supposed to uphold that promise if I lied to myself?
I watched the moon as it stood in the sky. It felt like hours that I sat there, and it seemed that the moon should have moved by that time. I had gone to pacing the room, and calling out loud to the angel to come and talk to me, never once looking in the mirror.
I passed what seemed to be so long in that room, just thinking. It was deadly dull, and then I became fixated on the mirror, the curiosity finally getting to me. It didn't hurt to look after all. I knew what I'd find anyway. Looking into the mirror, sure enough, were the two black wings folded up behind me, and there was no way I could make sure they were actually real, because if I attempted, it would only bring me to a worse nightmare. I had tried this too many times. It was better to succumb to the wishes of a dream I had no control over.
I looked down and started fiddling with my hands in front of the mirror, and then, looking up into the mirror again, I saw a flash of white and blue cobalt eyes that stared at me through the mirror. My heart sped, and I spun around in hopes of meeting with him just one more time, when I found myself awake, sitting up in bed, and breathing heavily.
I grabbed my braid and started fiddling with the end, going over my dream in my head. I just wanted to see my angel again.
I got up off the bed, which I hadn't even gotten into, and walked downstairs, still a little drained from the dream. Quatre and Trowa were happily working, putting a second coat of paint on their first wall when I came in.
A paintbrush trembled and then fell from the shaking hand of the blond who had just laid eyes on me. He fainted.
"Quat!" I yelled, running down the stairs to help my friend, even though I had no idea what just happened.
"S..S..Stay BACK!" Trowa startled me, as he held his hand up, quite shaken, and just kept staring at me.
"What did I do?" I asked in protest, using my hands to show my absolute unknowing of what was going on. Trowa simply pointed a wary finger at me, but it seemed as if he was looking above me.
/There was no way../
I took one glance above, and there they were; black wings that had just lost me the only friends I had.
I took one look at them and broke into tears, running to the apartment in a state of pure sadness. I threw my unpacked belongings back into the suitcase I had grown to know so well, dampening some of them with salty tears that wouldn't leave. At least something wouldn't leave me. Everything else had. But if I left this time, I asked myself as another tear grazed my cheek, where would I go?
Tbc?
********************
Thanks so much to all my reviewers, Miss Kissranada, seamaidian, matchbox, and Elle-FaTe2x1!
I hope this chapter was worth the wait, and there may be others..I'm still not sure.
Oh please review! I love reviews!
Thank you!