Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they are property of Hasbro and Sony Wonder.

Riot

Early in the morning, long before anyone else was awake, I was on my way to the office. Anticipation made every nerve in my body feel alive. I loved the brief period just before a big show like the VTV awards. I thrived on the pressure, lived for the maddening preparations, the heat of the moment. This show would be like no other; it was the Stingers' chance to shine for the entire world to see.

I entered the sleek lobby without anyone noticing my presence, slipping into the elevator quietly. Turning to watch the streets fade away, my senses relished this rare moment of pure silence.

Our follow-up to The Stingers Hit Town had long since been mixed and mastered. All that remained was an official release date. I was immensely proud of the creation Rapture, Minx, and I had created. Mature, sensual, inflected with elements of dance and gothica; it reflected the lifeblood we had poured into it. What's more, I had allowed the girls to include more of their vocals in the lead, taking the opportunity to sharpen my skills on guitar. The result was, in a word, perfection.

So here I was now, intending to make some calls and get the legal ball rolling. I wanted our new single"Dancing in Daylight", on the airwaves before the awards. The sooner anticipation for the record spread throughout the masses, the better.

On the way to my luxurious suite of an office, something odd caught my eye. The gold marquis on Eric's door was damaged, hanging by only one screw. I frowned.

"Well, that won't do" I mused aloud, reaching to straighten it. Unexpectedly, the door swung open to reveal a disheveled Eric sound asleep on his desk, an empty bottle of bourbon in his hand. His phone was left off the hook, emitting harsh sounds. The thick odor of alcohol hung stagnant in the air.

"Eric." I spoke forcefully. There was no response. I called his name again, yet he still didn't stir. My eyes rolled. It seemed I had no choice but to shake him. After a minute or two, he finally woke with a start. "Jerrica.." He blurted.

My frown deepened at the mention of her name. Obviously he'd been doing something with her in his drunken slumber, but I didn't care to hear about whatever it was. Blinking, Eric looked frantically around the room for something that wasn't there before staring blearily at me.

"Raymond, what in the hell is wrong with you" Gingerly I picked up the empty bottle by my fingertips and flung it into the overflowing trash bin. "For God's sake, have you been drinking all night"

He heaved a ragged sigh and nodded. "I had no reason not to, after what happened yesterday. I'm glad you're here, Riot, so I can tell you personally. The Misfits have fired me as their manager and torn up their contract with Stingers' Sound. I can't even take any legal action because Harvey Gabor's lawyer brigade will run me into the ground."

I raised an eyebrow at the news. So that was his pathetic little problem. Even though I had never liked the Misfits, I had to smile at the idea of Pizzazz having a backbone after all. It was high time they found someone who would make good business decisions for once. "I'm sorry, Eric." I purred. "I know how much they meant to you."

His bloodshot eyes flashed angrily. "Fuck off." Eric snarled venomously. "They don't mean shit to me, and frankly, my friend, neither do you."

Rather than being insulted, I smirked in amusement at his outburst. "Mr. Raymond, the feeling is more than mutual." Shaking my head, I turned and left him stewing there in his desk chair. There were more pressing matters to attend to than Eric's acid tongue and newfound alcoholism.

Without another thought on the matter, I went about the necessary business, securing our transportation, confirming our stage layout and the like. The only noteworthy event was Pizzazz's phone call. I could hear the other Misfits squawking in the background as she informed me that she no longer wanted to do her solo album"so you can just scrap all that. The new improved Misfits are working on our own new album."

I tapped my pen against the desk in annoyance. "Even without a contract" I inquired.

"Gee, you know, Riot, for someone who thinks he's so smart, you really are a dumbass." She retorted. "Yes, even without a contract. We've got our own cash, we can make and release our own work. Moron."

I was pleasantly surprised at the newfound attitude in her voice. It was refreshing to hear her hurling insults at me rather than fawning like a teenager. "Have it your way, dear Pizzazz. I'll take care of it."

She grunted. "Yeah, well, you'd better. And don't call me dear" With that, the other end went dead. I laughed and returned to my work.

By sunset everything was in place and I felt satisfied enough to leave the office. As I did so, I noticed, not without trepidation, that Eric had barely moved since I left him this morning. He was still planted at his desk, scribbling madly in a notebook as he spoke in hushed tones to someone on the phone. Our eyes met in passing and he abruptly ended the conversation.

Eric's eyes were sunken, haunted. There was a definite shift in his demeanor now; he stared me down with a paranoid glare as I stood there frozen in the doorway.

"I'm leaving for the night, Eric." I said, my voice revealing no trace of the angst that I felt. He grunted in answer and returned to his scribbling. "Is there anything that you need before I go" I asked, gently trying to pry some rational response from him.

"I don't need your charity." Eric barked, not looking up from his paper. "Lock up behind you."

Reluctantly I closed his office door and continued on my way. I did as he requested, locking the main door after bidding the night janitor goodnight. As I climbed into my Corvette and sped towards the highway, I still felt uneasy about the whole experience. This behavior was exceedingly strange, even by Eric Raymond's normally sleazy standards.

Stop dwelling and enjoy the moment, I told myself sternly. Eric's just moping because he lost a still profitable act under contract. He'll recover once our new album helps to fill his wallet again.

Rapture and Minx were already waiting in our practice room by the time I finally got back. "Where have you been all day, Riot" Rapture demanded. "Yes, we're already tuned up. All we were missing was our lead vocalist." Minx pouted, her fingers dancing out a melody on her synth as she did.

"Merely taking care of the details, darlings. Nothing to get excited about." I replied coolly as I strapped on my black Stratocaster. "You've already run through the new songs with your vocals, then, I assume" I asked, slightly adjusting a tuning peg.

"Of course" Minx cooed. "Are we all ready for next week" I nodded mutely, striking a B minor chord. The two of them peered at me curiously.

"Is something on your mind, Riot" Ventured Rapture. "You seem kind of out of it."

My eyes flicked over both of them briefly. "Just weary, Rapture, that's all. Let's do this quickly so I can relax, please." Exchanging glances and shrugging, my bandmates agreed to my request.

The rehearsal went smoothly, as expected. As soon as we adjourned, I excused myself and turned in early. Again Rapture and Minx gave each other that knowing look, but I ignored them. Closing the door behind me, I quickly undressed and activated my personal jacuzzi.

All the luxury in the world, I soon found, could not erase the memory of Eric's eyes from my mind. Something didn't sit right with me. It was the ferocity in his remarks, the sudden heavy drinking, most of all the mention of Jerrica Benton's name. The sound in his voice when he spoke her name. A shudder ran through my spine in spite of the scorching heat of the tub.

I'll have to keep a close eye on Raymond, I thought. For his own safety..and for everyone else's.

Jem

Time seemed to pass by so fast these days, but before I knew it, it was the day before the big event. Our stage rehearsals had gone by smoothly, save for the tension between Rio and I during lulls in the action. In the studio, it was even worse. When we did speak to one another, our words were terse and strictly business. Needless to say, I was sorely in need of some solitude and relaxation.

So, while my sisters all fussed over last minute details, I was upstairs in my bedroom, looking over old photo albums filled with family pictures. Back in the early days, my mother was big on taking as many pictures of us as possible, categorizing and labeling each one lovingly.

Gingerly, I turned the pages back to the front of the book. There was my first baby picture, my little 2 day old self wrapped tightly in soft blankets. I stroked the edge of the photo absently.

Jerrica Elise Benton, born at 12:03 am, June 1, 1962. My little gem, my gift from the stars, my mother's inscription read. I smiled at the memory of her nickname for me. Faintly I remembered morning talks between her and my father when I was very young, before Kimber was born.

"Why do you always call her that, your little gem" Dad would say to her with slight annoyance in his voice. My mother grinned at him knowingly and replied"Well, she is, when she wants to be. But when she doesn't..." Then she'd sigh helplessly, shrugging at him. "She'll grow out of it." My dad would grunt an agreement and kiss her forehead.

I laughed to myself at the memory. I know I wasn't much quieter than Kimber in my formative years, and my parents had had quite a time of it wrestling with my many tantrums. Music was the only thing that held my attention for very long, especially when Mom sang. Her voice had always fascinated me, and Kimber, too. To this day, I could hear one of Bobby Bailey's records and be right back in that kitchen in 1967, watching her put on a private performance for me while trying to feed a squirming redheaded one year old.

Now, I was the performer, the only thing private my identity. There was always the unsettling notion in my mind that this was not the way to honor my parent's memory, shielding my real self from the world. Back in the early days, when we first discovered Synergy, I had somehow convinced myself that using a glamorous new persona for originality's sake was a good idea. Now with everything threatening to all come apart, I knew better. I needed to do better. I needed to come clean.

A soft knock on my door shook me out of my reverie. "Come in" I called out.

Shana nudged the door open and stuck her head in. "You okay in here" I nodded and clutched the photo album to my chest. "Nothing wrong that wasn't before, I guess."

Shana rolled her eyes. "So we all figured. Hey, don't feel bad. We have total faith in you, whatever you decide." She reassured me, sitting next to me on the bed. "It'll be okay." She stressed again.

"And if it isn't" I asked timidly. Shana gazed at me sympathetically. "Then we'll work it out, Jerrica. We always work it out somehow. Come on, you're the queen of resolving impossible situations. This is no different."

"This is very different." I replied, feeling frustrated. "Ugh, I feel like all these conversations just keep going in circles. I have to end this, I have to tell Rio and clear the air once and for all. Maybe tell everyone."

Shana's eyes grew wide as saucers. "You can't be serious. That's insanity! Do you have any idea what will happen if you out your secret to the world"

Nodding my head, I averted her horrified gaze. "Yes, I know. I didn't say I was actually planning on it, you know. First I have to tackle the Rio obstacle before taking on the public."

Her stern look softened a bit. "Do you really trust him enough to not squeal on you once he knows"

I considered that, then nodded again, breathing deep. "Rio may have a hot temper, but he's not a stupid man. If he was, I wouldn't have stuck with him all this time. He'll be upset, but if I have his word on it, he won't betray me. Not like that."

Shana pressed her lips together tightly, quietly absorbing my answer. "You know him best, Jerrica, you make the call." She brightened and held up the dress she'd been clutching in her hands. "Hey, check this out! I designed them just for tommorrow. Isn't it hot"

I gawked at the gorgeous silver creation. It was meant to be skintight, flared at the bottom with irridescent ruffles that matched Shana's hair. "It's beautiful" I told her, and she beamed with pride.

"I made one for each of us. Each one is color-coordinated for each member's shade of hair, including yours." Shana explained. "Aja's already programmed the codes into Synergy's memory. I'm calling it my 'Platinum' line." She twirled about a little, holding the dress to her chest.

"Shana, you've really outdone yourself this time." I said sincerely, still marveling at the extent of her talent. "You should turn this into your own line." Shana murmured in response.

"Maybe after the album is finished" She replied. "Right now, let's just forget about all the bad stuff and focus on the good, all right" I smiled and agreed with her.

We heard Mrs. Bailey call upstairs that dinner was ready, followed by a cacophony of pounding footsteps and loud laughter from the girls. Shana gave me a look that made us both laugh.

"What do you say we put our rock star egos aside and be a family for awhile" I asked her, grinning. She laughed and threw her arm around me. "Sounds good to me." I touched my earring and turned back to my normal self, looking forward to feeling comfortable in my own skin.