My immediate thought was Great, now the carpet is stained. A very silly thought considering I knew perfectly well how to get chocolate out of a rug—within the first ten minutes, of course. I moaned, the sound coming more as of a shriek, and picked my cup back up. Strands of cotton stuffing were attached to the chocolate, and I furiously pulled them away. I didn't want to finish my Frosty, anyway. I would just dump the rest of it down the sink and throw the cup in the trash. I sucked in breath that my lungs did not seem to want and darted to the sink. Glass crunched underneath my shoes. Good thing the soles were thick. I turned on the faucet and watched in fascination as the Frosty swirled down the sink like a tie-dye pattern. But when it came to throwing the cup away, there was no place to put it. My trash bin had been turned on its head. So, so gross!

That was when I screamed. I screamed good and hard and chucked the empty paper cup against the wall above the couch with all my might. Paper cups don't fly very far or make much of an impact.

No one had ever broken into my house before. Ever. Back home, the town had been too small for stuff like that, and I had always been careful since moving here to always lock my door. I was paranoid like that. Plus, I liked pulling out my cute key chain.

But the door had been locked! There could not have been a break-in if there wasn't a forced entry!

Why would anyone do such a thing? It wasn't like I had anything to steal! Nothing huge. Nothing terribly expensive.

Except…

I screamed again and smashed my foot into the carpet. Shards of plate actually leapt. Michael!

The phone had been torn from the wall. I jammed the wire back into phone jack and dialed Michael's number. A pity I had taken him off the instant calling thingamajigger. I had to stand while I yelled at him. I couldn't sit down on what was left at my couch. How could he have done such a thing?

The phone rang twice before he answered, as cool and dumb as you could please. "Hello?"

"Michael!" I shrieked. I whirled around the room, kicking at pillows and glass. I was so going to injure myself. Get a good shard of plate right in the eye. I didn't care. "What are you thinking?"

Silence. "Huh? Tansy?"

Idiot. Jerk. Words I couldn't say. "What do you mean? You know exactly what you did!" Tears burned at my eyes. I was so mad at him. Why would he do such a thing? Just for a stupid i-Pod! "My apartment! You completely trashed my apartment!"

"Your apartment was trashed?" He still sounded clueless, almost worried. What a faker. " Tansy, what happened?"

I picked up the torn pillow and squeezed it between my fingers. "You know!" I was crying now. Crying hard. I was scared and mad and confused and everything else I could be. "You wanted your stupid i-Pod back so you came to my apartment to look for it and you wrecked everything like my couch and my dishes and…" The tears took over all power then.

"Tansy, I would never do such a thing. You know that. You know me better than that. Did you just get home?"

I nodded, then realized he couldn't, of course, see me. I sniffed, hiccupped, and tried to speak. "Yeah. I… I unlocked my door and everything was ruined. Someone broke in… and you have a key!"

"No, I don't." He was still acting all concerned. "You never gave me a key to your place."

That was true. I didn't believe in giving my boyfriends keys. I wiped my eyes on my sleeve. "If you didn't…"

"Tansy, have you called the police yet?"

"…no."

He laughed. He actually laughed, the creep. "Tansy, I'm going to hang up and come over. You call the police."

"But I don't—"

He hung up, and I was left with a dial tone and a messy apartment. I did not want to call the police. I didn't want to do anything except cry. First Mr. Maser and now this.

So I cried. I sat down in the only clear spot on the floor, pulled my knees into my chest, and sobbed for a good five minutes. Then I called the police. I felt so stupid as I did. A scared little girl upset because her apartment wasn't neat. They asked the obvious. Was anything missing?

No, nothing was missing. My bedroom was even worse than the living room. Not even the bathroom had been left alone. Mirrors were smashed, clothes and make-up and jewelry scattered everywhere. But I did not notice anything missing."

I called Kendra next. I got a heck of a lot more sympathy from her than I did from Michael. She was downright horrified. Then again, she was the one who had decorated the place.

Michael burst in almost the exact moment I hung up after Kendra. He was in his pajama bottoms (blue with baseballs) and a white t-shirt. He was certainly planning on going to bed early. He hadn't even knocked. He didn't even close the door, just stared in fascination at the war zone.

I burst into tears again.

He swore and ran over to me for a hug. "Tansy, I am so sorry. I had no idea it was this bad. Who would—"

He didn't have the answers, either. I sobbed into his shoulder until the police arrived. Thank heaven for ex-boyfriends.

The police came and did their thing. Asked me lots of hard questions I couldn't answer. Who has a key? Did I have any enemies? Was I sure nothing was missing? Then they dusted for fingerprints and took photos. Then they left.

Kendra was over by then, heavy-duty garbage bags in hand and a firm sneer of grim doom upon her face. This was vengeance. "I was planning on redoing this place anyway, Tansy."

It wasn't completely inspiring, but it did yank a laugh from me. "I like it the way it is. I don't want anything different."

"Yes, well, I have to redo this couch. This couch is dead."

I liked my couch. "Can we just clean?"

It was midnight by the time the three of us had the place looking half-way decent. Midnight. How ironic.

I didn't sleep well at all. Kendra spent the night, and she was out like a light, face scrubbed clean of make-up, curls all over the living pillow I had loaned her. I tried everything save pills, but I was too upset. Why wouldn't I be? Someone had broken into my house!

I eventually made my way to the window. I opened it and stared out into the night. The sky was clear and heavy with light pollution, but a few stars managed to twinkle. How pretty.

The grounds of the apartment building were clear, not even a stray cat. My peaceful little neighborhood. Nothing bad around here. I stared back at the stars for a while, but eventually my gaze returned to the ground.

Someone was there. A man, staring up at my window—at me. He wore a business suit, a man coming home very late from a meeting. Except I didn't know what meeting that would be, because Rowe did not have a normal sort of job. Yes, it was Rowe, smiling up at me.

Okay, this was good. This was exactly what I needed. One ray of light in this bad day. I waved back at him.

His smile wavered for a moment, then came back all the brighter.

I hated to wake the neighbors, so I tried to motion him to stay right there. Then I grabbed a coat and ran downstairs.

But by the time I made it to the yard, Rowe was gone.

Make-up can always improve a bad day. I've learned this. The worse you are feeling, the brighter the make-up. It was an excuse to wear glitter. Bright blue eye-shadow with a little yellow to soften it. Caribbean pink lipstick. Glitter on the cheekbones. And, gosh darn it, scrunchies for the hair.

Kendra offered to drive me to work, but I really did not want to tell her where this place was. Besides, I would be fine. As long as I had caffeine in me. I stopped at the grocery store for an energy drink. That would save me.

The rest of the morning people were in there, those not interested in picking up breakfast with gas. I stared at the line of energy drinks in front of the check-out lines, trying to figure out what combination of price, brand, and flavor would be best.

A woman came up next to me and grabbed the first can her hand touched. She was probably in her early thirties. She wore no make-up and her brown hair had static. Her face was good, though. Very pretty. Only she looked worried and stressed. Like how I felt. She should have worn bright make-up. You couldn't feel too sad in bright make-up. But she was pretty. The brown jacket she wore was too big for her, and somewhat on the ragged side. Her jeans were stained, and I was pretty sure she only had a cheap t-shirt. My gaze followed her to the check-out stand, where she fumbled for change in her pocket.

Why was I staring at this woman?

Two more women passed her. No, not passed. They actually stopped and stared at her. Business women, maybe lawyers. Whatever feminist career they had. Perfect, boring make-up. Perfect, boring hair. Expensive, boring clothes. And so not their colors.

Energy drink woman slapped down a crumple dollar bill and finally some coins.

MBA women were actually snickering.

Grow up, I thought.

I made my selection and got in the same line as the first woman, just as she was thanking the cashier. I gave her a friendly smile, and she returned it.

Wouldn't get that kind of reaction from those other ladies. Snobs. I hoped their expensive cars blew tires.

My energy drink selection had actually been two cans. I just had to see what Mary would act like on caffeine. Was caffeine bad for fairies? I really didn't want to completely upset the entire magical world, but I was darn curious. Plus, it was the nice thing to do. I had enough badness happen to me, and I needed to create some good karma. I pasted on a smile—something else crucial for a good mood—and put down a can on her desk.

Mary froze from her typing. "Ooh, I love these! I'm a secret caffeine addict."

Good enough. "I had a suspicion. It's good to know. Cute outfit."

She blushed. "Thanks." It really wasn't too bad. Some dark jeans and a basic black tee. Nothing fancy, but it worked. "Um, Mr. Maser wants to speak to you."

But I needed good karma!

"He's in his office." She nodded toward his door.

Good grief. I sighed and took a sip of my drink. "Now?"

"He said first thing."

I took a deep breath and entered his office.

The man was sitting at his desk doing a Sudoku puzzle, of all things. He was wearing jeans a t-shirt from Montana. He put it down the moment he saw me. "Ah, Tansy. Thanks for coming in."

I thought of a dozen nasty things I couldn't say.

He cleared his throat and stood up. "Tansy, I just wanted to apologize for last night."

My first thought was that Mr. Maser had broken into my apartment. "Sir?"

"I upset you," he continued. "I had no intention of doing so. Tansy, you are a great young woman. I guess that sometimes I just get upset and well…"

"Tactless?" I ventured. "Rude?"

He smiled. He looked so much better when he smiled. "Both of those and worse. Believe me, I truly did not mean to be that way."

Whatever. No, I needed good karma. I had to accept the apology. And he did seem sincere. "It's all right. I shouldn't have been so upset."

"I do think you're smart."

I didn't know what to say to that. No one had ever said that to me. I stared down at my gold sandals. "Why, thank-you."

Then we were silent for a while.

He coughed. "Well, you had better get to work. How about joining me for lunch?"

I laughed. Maybe he wasn't so bad. "No, thanks. Perhaps another time."

He laughed as well. "I'll hold you to it."

I'd rather have lunch with his son. I should have asked him what the heck Rowe had been doing at my apartment.

"By the way, something I need to mention about this job. Be very, very careful whom you tell about this. Be very careful."

I nodded. He sounded very strict. "Okay. Well, I'll see you."

"Have a good day, Tansy."

The hall felt refreshing. What a weird moment in there.

Linda came barreling out of the Salon as fast as her pregnant body would carry her. "Tissues, Tansy! We need tissues!"

"Tissues?" I echoed. This was a very weird morning indeed. "What for?"

Brittany came next. "Princess Mayblossom! She's back. We need chocolate!"

I was very confused.

Linda sighed and grabbed me by the shoulders. "Comforting time. Princess Mayblossom has become very unfortunate in love."