"Fry-Stack!" A distinctly female voice called into the bathroom, sounding annoyed. "Are you ever gonna come out? P-Tree is pretty pissed about you showing up late, and spending about a half an hour in the bathroom is not help, ya know."

I knew that Miss Petreka was upset with me about being late, but my sadistic grandmother made me stay almost a half an hour later than usual for my weekly 'Lessons'. You know, where she critiqued everything that was wrong about my life, and then made a big production by saying things like, "Oh, Anne would have done so much better. Too bad she's younger than you."

Why couldn't I have been blessed with a normal, cookie-baking, apron-wearing grandmother, instead of my bass-resembling one? Sometimes life was just cruel.

"I'm coming!" I shouted back to Ren as I zippered up my costume. It was the first of the five dress rehearsals that we were going to have, and my out-fit annoyed the Hell out of me; it was a short black dress that reached just about mid-thigh and plunged low in the back, showing a lot of skin. Couple this with all the make-up I had to wear, and I looked like a twenty dollar whore. Good thing my grandmother hadn't seen it, or else she'd have blow an artery or something.

I slowly opened up the stall door, pausing only for a second as I debated whether or not I really wanted to be in this play. After heavily weighing everything, I decided that it would probably just be best to get it over with.

"Whoa," Ren said as soon as I walked out. "What the Hell happened to Fry-Stack? Did the freakin' pod people come and steal her or something? 'Cause you look hot man." Hearing her saw that, I gave er a funky look. "Hey, I was just trying to be the supportive friend that I should be. It isn't my fault that I ended up sounding like a lesbian."

I laughed at Ren's comment, but the laughter died when I got a good look at her. On a good day, Ren wore baggy pants that could pass for a flea circus, a shirt that could pass for a dress, and boots that could pass for canons. The Ren in front of me looked like so such 'slob', as my grandmother would say. In fact, she looked pretty respectable. Well, almost, anyway.

"Dude," I said, taking a good look at her face; she was wearing none of her usual make-up. "You don't look like you just came out of the ground anymore. It's kinda... weird." And it was. I could actually make out that she had blue eyes and tan skin.

"Yea, well, tell that to P-Tree. She said I couldn't," she put on the high voice that sounded just like our director, "'look like some bum off the street. This is a respectable theatre. We can't have our good name sullied." She shook her head and said, "God, that woman is such a bitch."

"Only to you. You're the one who gave her the nick-name. Not everyone wants one, you know." Ren had this weird habit of giving everyone a nick-name.. whether they wanted one or not. I was called 'Fry-Stack' after my lack of height, Miss Petreka was 'P-Tree', and our friend Dave was 'Kansas.'. The names varied on the mood she was in, or what movie she had just seen. It would be interesting to see what she would give René.

As soon as this thought was out of my head, I instantly berated myself. I had promised myself that I wasn't going to think about him. He was this gorgeous, nice prince, and I was.. well, I was this smart-ass of a princes that got kicked of finishing school. Besides, he had a girlfriend. If I had any thoughts of doing anything with him, there was always Mia to consider.

"Fry-Stack, something on your mind?"

I looked over at my best friend, wondering whether or not to tell her about my slight infatuation with the notorious play-boy prince René. I decided not to, as she probably knew nothing about him anyway, instead going for the whole 'false smile' thing.

"No, everything is just peachy. If anything is wrong, it's this dress." I shrugged helplessly. "I'm afraid to move; if I was showing more skin, I'd probably be breaking a law... or at least be getting accepted into a nudist colony."

Ren let out a laugh that sounded false to me, and lead me out to the stage. She wasn't going to press things any further. Well, at least not for now.

~~~

As soon as I stepped onto the stage, I could tell three things. One, was the P-Tree was pretty peeved with me; Two was that everyone was in costume; and Three was that Dave really liked my new look.

"Whoa," he said I went over to my place for the scene. We were supposed to be in a night-club, and he was my boyfriend. This was the scene where we got into a major fight. "What the Hell happened to Fry-Stack? She looks hot."

"That's exactly what I said," Ren told him, getting into the conversation. The first day met Ren, she pulled me aside, pointed to Dave and said, 'That guy over there is mine, so paws off, princess'. She liked him pretty badly, but it seemed like he had a crush on me or something. Although why was beyond my comprehension.

In response to their comment on my outfit I rolled my eyes and said, kind of annoyed, "Why is it so hard for someone to think that I can be good-looking for once? I may not be some fairy-tale princess that you always see in movies, but I can look good once and a while."

"I never said you couldn't," Ren hastened to assure me, just as Dave said, "You always look good. Today is just different."

"Whatever," I answered, and sat down in the booth that was being used for this scene. Both of them followed me, probably to pester me some more, but Miss Petreka said that the scene needed to start, and they both had to go to their spots.

~~~

"Mom, I'm home!" I yelled as I stepped into my doorway. I lived in a penthouse in one of the most expensive apartments in New York. The walkway was all done in black marble and mirrors, and just looking at it sometimes made my head spin. And since I had a headache (listening to P-Tree sing in her high scratchy voice can get annoying after a while), the walls weren't really helping.

"Alright, Darling," my mother called as she stepped out of the kitchen. "No need to shout." My mother was tall and had brown hair and brown eyes. She had married my father, the crown prince of Monaco, when she was just eighteen. When I was younger, I liked to think that they married out of love, but I later learned that they were betrothed at birth.... and that my grandmother didn't like her.

I dropped my messenger bag on the ground and then stepped over it on my way to my mother. I kissed her on the cheek and smiled up at her. "Hello Mother."

"Bella," she acknowledged. "Go change your clothes; you're father is coming home tonight. And pick up your bookbag!" She hollered as I made my way to the stairs. "How many times do I need to tell you?"

"Obviously more than once," I muttered as I picked up my backpack and slid it into the closet. Once it was securely in there, I ran to the stairs and bounded up them.

"No running in the house!"

Hearing my mother's condescending tone, I stopped running, instead choosing to stomp up them.

"Stop sulking!"

"Great mom," I grunted as I opened the door to my bedroom. "Nice to know you're always there for me." I walked over to my closet and yanked open the door. Bright colors fought for my attention, and I had half a mind to close the door before my headache got worse. But I knew that I needed to look good for my father, so I picked out a pale pink dress and dragged it on over my head, grimacing the entire time.

I ran a brush through my hair, and put on a little make-up. I thought I looked like a demented lollypop, but then again, maybe that was just my imagination. After changing my entire outfit, I picked out a pair of high-healed shoes and stuffed my feet into them. Once I was certain that I couldn't recognize myself, I walked down the stairs.

I go from dress, to normal clothes, to dress, to back into normal clothes.. only to get back into a dress, I thought gloomily as I walked down the stairs. And all in one days' time. I feel like a freakin' prostitute.

Apparently, my mother didn't know of my thoughts, for as soon as I walked into the living room, she smiled broadly and got up off the couch. "You look beautiful, darling," she crooned as she gave me a slight kiss on the cheek; close enough to let me know that she was thinking about it, but far enough that she didn't think I was important enough. "Although that color is all wrong for you. We're going to need to go shopping this weekend. Margery!" She yelled into the kitchen where our maid was preparing dinner. "Make a note, will you dear?"

"Yes Mrs. Trevanni, I'll get to that straight away." Margery was our newly imported maid from Monaco. My mother wouldn't have anyone other than a native for her maid. I heard her washing her hands, and then she walked over to the island. I knew she was scribbling down what my mother wanted on a pad of paper. Bored, I turned my head back over towards my mother.

My mother let out a lady-like sigh that told me that she wasn't at all please. "Good help is so hard to find these days." She folded her hands over the lap of her baby blue and looked demure and placid.

"Good help?" I sputtered, hardly daring to believe it. Margery did what was expected of her and then some. And my mother said she wasn't good enough? What was this nonsense?

I asked my mother these questions, and she just shook her head and look astonished at my behavior. "That is hardly something the princess of Monaco should be going around saying. I am appalled." I noticed how she didn't answer my questions.

I opened my mouth to ask her why she and my grandmother didn't get along when they were so alike, but I was cut off from the door opening up and a loud voice calling out, "Hello, is anyone here?"

It was my father, the Crown Prince of Monaco.

And he couldn't have come at a better time.

~~~~

Well, what did you think? Originally, I was just going to have this be a six chapter fic, but i decided that I was going to make it longer.. delve deeper into her psyche.. Ok, I sound like a dork. So, I'll just tell you this; I like the idea of this fic, and I'm going to go farther into it, OK? OK!

Also, I've started thinking of making this into a sort of series... The Plothole Theatre. HeHe. I'm going to write two more fics with two other lesser-known males from the Princess Diaries series.. That Justin dude from the fourth book (think smoky eyelashes. :P), And Josh Richter... HE FINALLY BROKE UP WITH LANA! YAY!!

Ok, glad that's over. Hope you like this chappy.. Bella's personality changed a bit... she just seemed too.. Well, she just wasn't tough enough. She was a bit of a goof-off. So yea, decided that had to change. But other than that, what did you think?

REVIEW CHILD!!

Melissa