AN: Sorry, late. Review please! At least five for an update! Thanks so much to you reviewers! I'll add a little thanks at the end of an upcoming chapter to each one of you.

You know, when I'd first started dancing at the Indigo Flame, I was so alone. I cried myself to sleep every night, that is, until my "boss", Mr. Pergulski, grew sick of it. From then on, tears brought punishment. No, not the "Oh darn! You're not paying me this week?" kind, the "Please stop! Don't! Please don't hurt me anymore!" kind. Gruesome, isn't it? On with the story…

So one day, someone from my past was brought to the club. Not someone I liked too well, but someone familiar nonetheless. Do you all remember a certain ditzy blonde that's always, for whatever reason, hated me? Her name kind of rhymes with "Fair," Yeah, her. We were put in the same room. Oh, let me explain that first. When you're "employed", you get a room in Pergulski's club. Being the newest girl there, I had my own room, but then Claire came… Oh, the look on her face was priceless! "Deetz? Lydia Deetz? You're kidding, right?" And I would have laughed at her, too, if it weren't for her red, puffy eyes; the eyes of an emotionally wounded being. I kind of, well…. took her under my wing. I, being the more experienced woman in this situation, had the upper hand… But I knew I would never forgive myself if I allowed another, even her, to go through that.

I taught her everything she needed to know. Want to hear a real shocker? This sort of…bond formed. Her pride was wounded, heavily. The manager never lets us leave or venture out into daylight. What was I doing then, on the night of my death? We'll get to that later, be patient! Anyway, Claire's pretty tan started to fade and, get this…her roots were staring to show! Yeah, the Almighty Blonde Goddess wasn't even blonde. Her hair is naturally quite the vibrant red…do I sound like I'm gossiping?…God, I hope not. I'm just telling my story. The point is it seemed to…well…let's say, shrink her down to size. The hair thing, that is.

We made a really great pair, full of contrast, so said everyone else. We were roughly the same height and weight, but from then on, we were opposites. She had bright eyes and hair, while I had dark. Her skin was still naturally, lightly tanned, while mine was pale. Dark and Light. This gave Mr. P. a "great" idea. Silver and Gold. He paired us up on the stage, Claire wearing gold and me in silver. The crowd loved it. We were being sold to the public; stripped naked for the entire world to see. We loathed them…him…even, in time, ourselves. Why didn't we quit? We were threatened. Not with our own lives, but with those of our loved ones. Why weren't they searching for us? We wrote (with the manager looking over our shoulders) them letters, disconnecting from them, say we never wished to see their faces again. No return address. That night, Claire and I shed silent tears, the ones that no one punished you for. We held each other and rocked back and forth, back and forth, quieting one another if our sobs grew in volume. That night, we decided. I would sneak away and bring help. Funny how I was finally able to get away… and then I was killed within my first few moments of freedom. Isn't life just sick? Poor Claire…I wonder if she even knows…

You know what? I'm actually kind of happy I'm dead…oops, poor BJ, kind spaced on him. Ha, the look on his face! What'd I say to him?…oh yeah…It's me, Beej! Lydia! Wow, been gone all this time and I just space out like that…that's not like me. Probably just the post-death ADD kickin' in. Uh-oh…why's he look so mad?

"That's…that's not funny! What tactless jerk put ya up to that, huh?" I giggled through my tears.

"You're really one to talk about tact, Beetleju-mph!" My mouth just…zipped shut…literally.

"If you were her, you'd know not to say that so much!" he spat, and with a snap my zippered mouth was back to normal. I whipped my face of tears.

"Hey, I've only said in once, right? Listen, I've missed you. A lot. My parents found out about you and I was forbid-…you know what? I'm dead! I'm new to this and I could use a little support from my best friend right now!" I seethed. He looked dumbfounded.

"Is it…really you? 'Cause if it ain't, you are one heartless bit-"

"Beetlejuice! Oops, that's twice. I wonder what happens if I say your name three times now." That would be interesting…

"Lydia!" he looked positively joyous. He crushed me in a backbreaking hug and floated a few feet up. "You're here!" then he released me, looking struck. "You're dead!" he looked down at me, sprawled on the ground from the three-foot drop. I picked myself up.

"Yes, I suppose that is what I said." I raised an eyebrow at him.

"And uh," he came near me and put a hand to his ear, acting like it was some huge secret, "how'd that happen, again?"

"Do you ever listen?" I asked him impatiently. Grinning, he shook his head "no". "Well then, you will just have to guess." I tucked my hair behind my ears and straightened, giving him a full view of the mess that was my body. He looked me over and a grim look settled upon his pale face.

"Oh…Lyds…" I smiled warmly at him.

"It'll be alright, you'll help me now, won't you?"

He smiled weakly.