Disclaimer: I own none of the wonderful DOTM characters appearing in this story, although the ideas are my own, and I apologize for any warping of character personalities.

Author's Note: Okay, I want you all to scroll down to the bottom of this chapter, and take a look at the little blue button that says "submit review"…. you heard the button, folks! Follow the directions! Because 0 reviews is a rather sad thing. So review why don't you! I don't want to be nasty and not post all the other chapters I'm writing…. but feedback is lovely! Hee, hee… anyways, on with the story.

Castrata hoped that she'd dreamed it. Inside, she knew that she hadn't, but as the weeks rolled by, and no one brought up the subject, she hoped anyway. They went to Planet Bang every Tuesday and Friday night, but Tymmie didn't show his face. That was one thing that she was thankful for.

It was a Friday night, and she was going over to Ariasti's house again. That was their unofficial meeting place. They all brought clothes over for each other to borrow and such forth, but Ariasti had the coolest clothes, and they all loved taking her stuff.

"Let me dress you!" Ariasti begged. "Please?"

"Fine," Castrata sighed.

When, at last, she was permitted to open her eyes, she froze at the sight of her reflection in the mirror.

While she had looked wicked, dressed in all black, Ariasti had taken it a step farther. She couldn't place what it was exactly, but it was different. She wore the baggy black pants, a tight tank of Ariasti's, which had been artfully slashed to reveal a sections of her black bra, as well as swatches of smooth, tan stomach. She wore larger hoop earrings, and Ari had stuck hoops into her second piercing, the one that she rarely used. Her hair had been blow dried, and straightened, so that it hung around her face perfectly. But her face was where the real change was. She couldn't place her finger on it—she still wore the dark liner and mascara, but Ari had paled her face, making her eyes stand out, piercingly huge, against her face. Somehow it looked natural. And wicked.

Oh, yes. Very wicked. And she liked the look.

Jadyn, Ariasti, and Lanya were already dressed and ready to hit the road when she stepped out from the bathroom.

"Wow." Jadyn whispered, as if stunned.

"I second the motion," Lanya grinned. Then she sobered. "You look… different. Less goddess, more wicked." She grinned again. "I like the look, though."

Ariasti grinned. "Told you that you'd like it," she said smugly.

They arrived at Planet Bang quickly. Ariasti and Castrata didn't dance much. Ari because her new shoes were bugging her, and Castrata to keep her company, and because she didn't think that dancing and her outfit mixed.

"I'm going to go for a walk around the dance floor," Castrata said, at last, "I need to move around a bit."

"Okay," Ari said, her eyes on the dancers.

"You want anything?" Castrata asked.

"Um… a Citrus Smoothie sounds yummy," she said, "Thanks."

"No prob." Castrata began walking.

As she neared the bar, she saw something that made her stand still. A man stood at the bar, flashing strobe lights illuminating parts of him, and throwing the rest into shadow. He wore all black, and, although his shaggy blonde hair hid his eyes, she knew that they would be piercing blue.

Castrata whirled, ready to disappear into the crowd. She hoped he hadn't seen her…

Someone tapped her arm. Inwardly, she cursed. She turned slowly, and looked into the eyes of… someone she didn't recognize. It wasn't her father, but she knew that it was a Follower. Lovely.

"Want to dance?" He asked, his voice open and inviting.

If she hadn't known he was a Follower, she would have fallen for it.

"No thanks," she said coolly, trying to walk away. Suddenly, he was blocking her exit. She tried to brush past him. "I've got bigger fish to fry," she said, icily.

"Oy, Stanton!" The guy yelled, "This one wants bigger fish to fry!" The Follower towed Castrata towards Stanton.

Crud. There was no getting out of this one… she would have closed her eyes, but she suddenly saw a smile cross her father's mouth.

"Really?" His voice was seductive. "What kind?" He was close to her, his eyes boring into her's, his eyes running over her. God. Her own father was attempting to seduce her. That was depressing.

Play it cool, she told herself… maybe… maybe he won't recognize you. Yeah right.

"Not you," she said, her voice cool enough to freeze liquid nitrogen.

"Try me," he whispered, eyes never leaving her face. "You'll love it… I guarantee."

She felt his mind attempting entry. She panicked. She knew that if she blocked, he'd have cause to look further. What she needed was a disguise.

A character. She needed a character, like in Drama. Her clothes bespoke a rebel, and she knew that Followers generally went for the good kids, so she immersed herself in images of stupid things: smoking, alcohol, and a druggie. But somehow, these things got mixed up in a different character: one who was kind, but very sarcastic. One who was rebellious, but still did well in school. A Drama freak, who had had the misfortune to begin smoking earlier in life, as well as drugs, but had managed to stop before she got too addicted to drugs. She still smoked however.

His mind was in her's, twisting around her thoughts. She could almost feel him smirking. She was almost the perfect person to turn. Why had she, out of all the things she could have became, choose to be someone who was perfect for turning? Someone who was good, but had had real brushes with evil, in the form of substances.

Her character, she realized, would probably say no, but end up dancing (and doing more) anyways. Good intentions, but, then again, intentions don't always count in the world that we live in.

Her father pulled her out onto the dance floor, his hands at her waist, slightly caressing her. Ew.

"I'm glad to have the hottest girl on the dance floor," he breathed.

Castrata flicked her hair, and rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she said, but was obviously pleased.

"What did you say that your name was?" Stanton whispered.

Did she have a name? What was her name?

"Wendy," she said, recalling a favorite character from Peter Pan.

"Wendy," he breathed seductively, "it fits you."

Castrata had to use all of her control, so as not to flinch as his caresses on her back inched upwards. Ew. Ew. Ew….

What she needed was a distraction. She looked around, slightly frantically, for backup. None came.

Suddenly, Stanton's lips were on her's, and she felt that distant feeling of hope leaving her. Okay: kissed by your own father. Not cool. Father sucking the hope from you: seriously not cool.

Luckily for her, backup arrived, in the form of Jadyn. She took one look at Castrata and knew that something was wrong.

"Hey, girlie!" Jadyn squealed, "I thought I saw you here!"

Stanton stopped kissing Castrata, who sighed in relief. Thank God.

"Have you forgotten about me?" Jadyn pouted, motioning at Stanton, "I thought, after what happened between us… all those nights together…!" She stared at Castrata. "I thought you loved me!"

Stanton began edging away from Castrata. "See you," he mumbled, and stalked off.

The minute he was gone, Castrata hugged Jadyn. "Thanks. You have no idea how much I needed help."

Jadyn looked at her. "That man—who was he?"

"My father."

"Your what?"

"Father."

"Why—

"I can't tell you now." Castrata said, a little too snappishly.

Jadyn eyed her warily. "You need to meet our friend."

Castrata could foretell that there was no getting out of it this time. "Sure, whatever."

In a matter of minutes, they had rounded up Lanya and Ari, and found the car.

"I'll drive!" Jadyn volunteered.

"Great, the only person without a license is driving," Ariasti mumbled.

"I heard that." Jadyn grinned. "Besides, I'm going to pass."

Lanya mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, 'only cause you've already seen the questions!' but Jadyn ignored her.

The car pulled up in front of an apartment complex.

"Come on," Lanya said, impatiently, dragging Castrata from the car.

They pulled her up the stairs, to the top floor, before knocking on a door.

A woman opened the door. She had a tough, but friendly face, that held an air of sadness. A teardrop was tattooed under one eye. She looked vaguely familiar, but, somehow, Castrata couldn't quite remember who she was. It was as if her memory was foggy.

The woman's face brightened when she saw Ari, Lanya, and Jadyn, and even more when she saw Castrata.

"You came," she breathed, her voice bringing back memories.

Castrata jerked back. "You," she whispered, her voice icy.

The girls stared from Jimena to Castrata. They had never seen their friend act this way before.

"Castrata?" Jimena asked.

"I don't want to talk to you!" Castrata stormed, whirling around and practically running from the room.

The girls exchanged looks, and Ariasti gave a slight nod. "I'm on it," she said, and disappeared.

Castrata looked back. No one was following her… smack! She ran straight into Ariasti. "What?" She asked, defensively.

Ariasti didn't answer. She simply took Castrata's arm, and disappeared. So did Castrata.

They reappeared in Jimena's apartment.

As soon as Castrata realized where they were, she attempted another escape. Which didn't work.

"I'll tie you to the chair, if necessary." Jimena told her. Castrata imagined spitting on the woman's face.

"What do you want?" Castrata said, between clenched teeth. Her eyes shot daggers at Jimena, and the look on her face went beyond hatred.

"You." Jimena said simply. "You are a Daughter of the Moon, a goddess."

Castrata laughed. "Right. And I'm supposed to believe the word of a murderer?"

Jimena froze. "What did you say?"

"The truth," Castrata spat, "you killed my mother. You murdered her. You called yourself her friend, but you didn't even wait to hear her story. That's not what friends do! You killed her! You, Vanessa Cleveland, Tianna Moore, and Catty Turner!" She ignored the shocked expressions on her friend's faces. "But most especially you! You were her best friend!" Castrata sobbed, anger and hate mixing with sadness and hurt. "You! Her friend. Betrayed her!" She sat there, sobbing.

"Who told you that?" Jimena said in a deadly whisper.

"My father." Castrata spat. "I know what you're going to say," she said, interrupting as Jimena opened her mouth to speak, " 'I shouldn't trust my father, after all, he is a Follower, and the Prince of the Night at that'" she ignored her friend's gasps. "But guess what? I don't care! He's a good person! He doesn't lie to me, he treats me well, and he's never hurt me. Why would he lie to me about the death of Serena Killingsworth? He loved her! More than you ever did." She finished bitterly.

Jimena was silent for a long time. "You know what you are, Castrata," she said, finally, "You know what you can do. You have gifts, of courage, strength, and compassion, just as they do." She gestured towards Ariasti, Jadyn, and Lanya. "You are a Daughter of the Moon. In your heart, you know it. And you also know, that you must join the Daughters, or they will die. Without unity, there can be no hope."

"I will not." Castrata whispered, her voice colder than a winter night, "I will never join the ranks of one such as you."

"You must," Jimena said, "If not for me, than for them. You must, even if it is only for your sake."

Castrata was silent. Inside her, two complicated emotions were at war. One was the natural desire to hate and shun the group of people responsible for killing her mother. The other, rational side said that her friends had no part in it, and the Daughters fought for good, and therefore to go with them. Yes…no…yes… no…. no…

Castrata's head jerked up. Her eyes glittered with suppressed rage and hatred as she stared at Jimena. "I will be a Daughter," she said, through gritted teeth, "for my friend's sake. Here this, for I will never say it again: I will never do as you did to my mother. And know this: I will not speak to you again. I will be with the Daughters, because they fight for what is right, but I will never accept your teaching or guidance. And I will always hate you."

"Castrata—

"I will always hate you. Always." Castrata jumped up and ran from the room.

Ariasti, Jadyn, and Lanya exchanged looks, and then followed her, leaving Jimena, alone in the room, breathing heavily.

The car ride home was silent. As they pulled up in front of her house, Castrata mumbled, "See you tomorrow."

Jadyn smiled at her. "Yeah, tomorrow."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No," Lanya said.

"We don't understand, really, we've only known Jimena to do good, but how can we be mad at you? You think she murdered your mother. For all we know, she could have." Ariasti added.

"Thanks," Castrata said, a relieved smile spreading across her face.

"Thank you," Lanya said.

"What are friends for?" Chorused Jadyn and Castrata, grinning.

"Oh, and Ariasti?" Castrata said, turning back, "Sorry you didn't get your Citrus Smoothie."