A/N: This is kind of a different DotM fic...I actually dreamed this, believe it or not. I'm going to embellish it a little and make it into more of a comprehensible story than it was in my subconscious mind, but it's basically my dream. I don't usually pair Stanton with other girls, 'cause I like the Stanton/Serena pairing, but for some reason, this kinda popped up. This is what happens when I read while I'm falling asleep. Lol. Also, this is a way different fic for me. My main character is normal for once…

Anyway, let me know what you all think of this. I may or may not continue…

-Cali

LECTA

Kieran Saunders dropped her schoolbag with a loud thud and raced up to her room. It had been 3:30 by the time the bus had dropped her off. She only had about three hours before her boyfriend and the rest of the group came to pick her up! Glancing at her calendar to check the date one more time, she saw the word "PROM!" written in big red block letters with smiley faces covering the square that represented May fourteenth. She'd been waiting for this day all year, and had been plotting with her boyfriend for about that long.

Well, she thought she'd been plotting with him. Lately, though, it seemed more like he'd been planning things without her, and he refused to give her any hints. All he'd told her was "it'll be fun. Trust me."

She'd shrugged. "Fine. Don't tell me. I don't care." Maybe reverse psychology would work...though it hadn't in the past and she hadn't any idea why it would work now.

Stanton had chuckled. "Suit yourself." Obviously her devious attempts at making him tell her had failed.

Kieran sighed now as she stripped off her school-smelling clothes and tossed them at the hamper, missing it completely. There was no way she was going to go to that dance smelling like her disgusting high school. La Brea high...She shook her head. She was so sick of that place. Only one month to go, though. She was so close to graduation, she could taste it. Walking across the hall into her bathroom, she turned the taps, letting the water heat up before she turned it down, making sure it was hot enough. Stepping into the warm spray from her waterfall showerhead, she began to sing.

Singing was her life - it was her soul. It kept her going. When she couldn't figure out how she was feeling, all she had to do was sing and it sorted out her emotions. That, and freewriting.

Now as she stood under her shower, lathering strawberry shampoo into her brownish-red hair, she found herself humming an oratorio quietly. She'd worked on this a little, but it was harder than she'd expected, filled with sixteenth-note runs for measures on end. Her coloratura was good, but it needed work.

Her hums stopped as she washed her face, not wanting to inhale the water, while she loved the way it smelled mixed with all her scented soaps. Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped herself in a baby blue towel and wrung her hair out into the tub. Her friends had always laughed at her when they'd seen her do that after swimming, or anything else that got her hair wet. The fact was, she hated water dripping down her back, and her hair had a tendancy to retain water. She'd had it thinned several times, and layered, then thinned again. Now it was still thick enough for her to play with and put up, but thin enough so that it wouldn't tangle when Stanton ran his fingers through it as he tended to do.

He loved her hair, and she loved that about him. She had promised him she'd leave it down tonight, though looking at it now she wanted nothing more than to go to a salon and have them curl it and pile it on top of her head and out of the way. Her hair was down to her lower back. When asked why she didn't cut it short, she shrugged. It felt wrong to cut her hair. While she complained constantly that it was a pain and she hated it, she could never cut it. It was too much of who she was. "The singer with the long hair."

She smiled, thinking of the first time Stanton had heard her sing. He'd called her a siren, and he kept the nickname up now, even among his friends.

Glancing at the clock, she realized she had two hours. Hmm. I'd better blowdry my hair. It'll never dry in time if I don't, she thought to herself, and plugged the drier in. Thankfully, it had comb and brush attachments that made it a lot easier to work through her hair. It always tangled when she first got out of the shower, but calmed down once it dried. Please don't get poofy, she begged it, and began running the comb/drier through her long locks.

Half an hour later, her hair was perfectly dry and slightly wavy. Just the way she liked it. Maybe she would have a good day after all. It certainly hadn't started out that way, with a test in one class, a pop quiz in the next, her voice cracking in choir, her flute remaining flat in band while she attempted to compensate by supporting more and more, someone running into her and nearly making her drop her lunch, a fight with one of her friends, and getting yelled at in the hall by a girl she didn't even know.

She hoped the dance went well. She didn't even know what was planned, only that Stanton had told her to be ready by six.

Running a softer brush through her hair, she walked towards her bedroom with the towel still wrapped around herself. Walking to her window, she closed the blinds most of the way, so she could see out but no one could seen in. Once that was done, she let the towel fall and slipped on a pair of underwear. Unfortunately, she couldn't wear a bra with this dress. It was strapless, and the back was cut fairly low to begin with. Sitting down on her bed, she ran a hand over each of her legs, deciding against putting lotion on them. Her thigh highs would be enough to cover any roughness, she realized as she began rolling them over her strong, tanned legs. One and a half hours!

She grinned as she knelt next to her night table, searching for her glitter lotion she had planned to use. Instead, she found a small container of Hello Kitty gel with hearts in it. She looked it over, considering it, then realized it would be perfect for decorating herself. She opened it with a bit of effort - when had she bought this? It must be old, she realized as she touched the slightly hardened gel. It was yellow with gold hearts. Would that go with her black and blue dress? Maybe not, but it would go with her necklace. Squeezing a bit of the gel onto her palm, she picked out enough heart sequins to create a heart shape on her chest. She pasted each heart with care on the swell of her chest, right above where she suspected the neckline of her dress ended, and admired her reflection in the mirror. So far, so good.

Her dress was almost built like a corset at the top, and she always needed help lacing it up at the back.

Just as she was putting her second earring into her ear, her cell phone rang, calling her to her nightstand, where she was finally able to see her glitter gel, which she picked up after answering with a smile. "Hello?"

"Hey, dance partner," Stanton said from the other end, and she could hear a smile in his voice. "Shame you couldn't come out with the rest of us, it was a lot of fun."

What? Had he left her behind? "What?" she asked aloud, confused and a little disappointed.

"I'm just teasing, Kia. Relax," he said in a more relaxed tone of voice. He'd never called her Kieran, except for the first time they met. He'd created the nickname "Kia" out of laziness, she suspected. "What are you up to?"

"Well, I'm trying to put on my dress," she admitted, stepping into it as she held the tiny phone on her shoulder with her head, trying hard not to drop it as she pulled the dress up over her body. "And also trying not to drop the phone. What are you doing? Where's everyone else?" she asked. She'd expected to hear loud music and other voices - the group was renting a party bus for the dance, and she was very excited about that.

"We're hiding the corseages," he said with an audible grin.

"You're what?" she asked, surprised. She'd bought him a boutenierre yesterday - teal carnations to match his vest, which he'd bought to match her dress, and black ribbons to match the rest of his tuxedo.

"We're hiding the corseages," he repeated. "Just a little game we thought you girls would enjoy...we intend to give you clues and send you searching for them. They're hidden in someone's backyard. I'll be driving you there, and we'll get the party bus from there," he said, and Kieran stared at the phone, struggling to tie the strings that held her dress together. It was like lacing a shoe, but from behind. "Speaking of 'there,'" he said mysteriously, and Kieran's phone dropped the call.

Or had he hung up on her?