Riverboat Run

by Allie Stanley

(The winning entry in the JemCon 2022 FanFic contest)

The stars were aligned perfectly in a way they never did, that Eric Raymond might actually get some work done today. 90% of his job these days was putting out the Misfits’ fires, but some weeks they managed to bump it up to 110%, which they’d been good at lately. The rest of the time he was making phone calls that didn’t get returned, deals that fell through, or schemes to get Starlight Music that never succeeded. This morning, though, this morning was different, he could feel it. This morning he was going to be productive, get some revenue coming in, finish his overdue tasks, as long as absolutely nothing--

“Eric Raymond!”

Eric Raymond groaned inwardly as he heard that shrill, piercing shriek that took a day off his life every time it touched his ears. He had dared to let himself believe Pizzazz would behave herself for one day, and so really it was his fault he was feeling the crush of disappointment as he looked up from his desk and saw Pizzazz storming into the room, clutching a stack of papers, looking like she was ready to strangle puppies.

“Good morning to you, too, Pizzazz,” said Eric Raymond, doing his best to not let his face show how much he wanted to strangle her right now.

If she noticed, she didn’t comment on it. “I just got that new contract you needed me to sign. You remember, right? The one about the Magnolia Tepels?”

All the red hot anger in Eric Raymond turned to ice cold dread so quickly you could see the steam it made. He cursed his own determination as he glanced at the spot on his desk where the backed up stack of papers had sat earlier, things that were long overdue and he couldn’t ignore any longer. He had been so focused on getting them done that he had forgotten that one very specific thing in that stack needed to be introduced to Pizzazz gently and carefully, like bringing a kitten into a house with a Rottweiler. He’d just thrown it at her with a stack of fan mail and legal waivers and told her to keep herself busy.

“Oh, good,” said Eric Raymond, in the usual smarmy voice he used when he had the upper hand. He didn’t, of course, but he couldn’t let Pizzazz know that.

“When, exactly, were you going to tell me about this?”

“You’re holding the contract, aren’t you?”

“Unbelievable!” Pizzazz crumpled up the contract and threw it back at him. It bounced off of his chest and landed on his lap before rolling down onto the floor. “I can’t believe you actually thought I would play the villain opposite prissy, goody-two-shoes Jem! I deserve to be the heroine, the star, the one the audience loves!”

“Everybody loves a good villain,” said Eric Raymond. He reached down and retrieved the papers, then began to smooth them carefully. “They’ll love you, just in a different way.”

“You mean not as much as Jem!”

“Well, I can’t help who they love, Pizzazz!” Eric Raymond snapped back. “Look, it’s a job, it’s exposure, and we need the money. You’re doing it.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!”

“It’s my job to tell you what to do!”

Pizzazz let out one of her trademark, ear-splitting shrieks of frustration that Eric

Raymond knew would still be ringing in his ears years after she’d forced him into an early grave.

“But you didn’t see the best part,” he cooed, trying hard to appease her.

“You mean that we’re going to be doing this stupid play on a boat? Yeah. I saw.”

“Not that. I agree, the boat is stupid. Look.” Eric Raymond pointed to a line on the contract’s cover letter, which he’d managed to smooth into acceptable condition. “Jem’s playing the heroine, but look who else is in this production.” He looked up at her and said in a coaxing, sing-song voice, “Rii-ot...”

“Yeah. I saw that. He’s playing Jem’s love interest.” Pizzazz rolled her eyes. “I don’t have any interest in spending a whole weekend watching him make goo-goo eyes at Jem.”

“So won’t it be all the more satisfying when you steal his attention away from the one he’s literally being paid to look at with those goo-goo eyes?”

There it was. Anybody who hadn’t known Pizzazz for years wouldn’t have noticed it, but Eric Raymond had been around her long enough to be able to see that her face softened ever so slightly. It was mostly in the corners of her eyes and mouth where just a slight bit of tension was released. She couldn’t afford to let anyone know when she was beginning to be appeased, so early on in their working relationship Eric Raymond had learned to look for that slight softening, that ever so subtle hint that whatever he was doing was working. Pizzazz was still scowling, but Eric Raymond was winning.

“They’re also letting you write some of the songs for the production,” said Eric Raymond. It’s a good chance to blow Jem and the Holograms out of the water with your talent.

Wouldn’t she be humiliated when she’s the star and the whole audience is chanting, ‘Mis-fits! Mis-fits!” He pushed the contract back to her. “Think about it.”

Pizzazz snatched up the contract. “I’ll see if we threw out any songs recently that we could throw into this lousy production,” she snarled. “Don’t think you’ve won.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His smarm was back, but this time it wasn’t an act. He really did have the upper hand.

Pizzazz stormed out of the room, and Eric Raymond slumped back in his seat, rubbing his temples. It was only 10 am and he knew the day was over. There was no way he was going to get anything done. He had been a fool to dream he could even have these small pleasures in life. And he really wasn’t looking forward to explaining to Pizzazz that even though the show was only running for a limited time weekend-long engagement, that rehearsals and set-up would take much longer than that. That was a problem for Tomorrow Eric Raymond.

As Pizzazz stormed down the hall outside Eric Raymond’s office, she crashed into Roxy, who had been outside waiting for her. “Hey!” she snapped. “Watch where you’re going!”

“Me? I was just standing here! You watch where you’re going!”

“Whatever. I don’t have time for this. I’m calling a Misfit Meeting. Go and round up the others. We’re going to need all hands on deck for this; even Clash!”

“Why do I have to do all the work-- wait, why do we need to have a meeting in the first place?”

“Because,” said Pizzazz, with a sinister and troublesome grin, “we’re going to blow Jem and the Holograms out of the water-- literally!”

~*~

However much Pizzazz didn’t want to do this, that’s how much Jem and the Holograms did. Jem was thrilled when the offer was first sent to Jerrica, asking them to take part in a modern revival of a classic Victorian melodrama on a newly restored historical Mississippi riverboat, the Magnolia Tepals. In its heyday the Magnolia Tepals would travel all up and down the mighty Mississippi, but as the years went on and the glory days of the showboat passed in favor of the cinema and television, the old girl had been docked and had to make do with limited engagements as it slowly began to wear away. Then it was sold, and the new owner, a rich enthusiast of American history as well as the theater, put the work into restoring it with plans to reopen it as a permanent venue. Jem, Pizzazz, and Riot had all been asked to take part in the show for maximum draw so that the grand opening of the new and improved Magnolia Tepals would be a smash hit and restore its name to the world of theater.

Jem was slightly less thrilled with the idea that she would be in the show with Pizzazz and Riot-- Pizzazz because she knew the Misfits would be nothing but trouble, and Riot because she knew he was going to be aggressively flirting with Jem for the entire show and she didn’t feel like putting up with it. Or, rather, she didn’t want to expend all of her energy trying to resist his charm. There was something about him that got into her head whenever he was around, that when he was away she knew that Rio was her one and only love, but when he was around... that’s when she would think about what it would be like for Riot to sweep her off her feet.

Still, being in this show was a lot of hard work, in a life that was already filled to the brim with hard work. She didn’t just have to perform as Jem, which was not only hard work in itself but also came with hours of practice, press appearances, and effort to keep her image squeaky clean so record sales wouldn’t go down. Add that to the work she had to do as Jerrica, which not only included running Starlight Music but also the Starlight Foundation, keeping the company afloat so it could fund the needs of the twelve young girls of Starlight House. Jerrica had been working hard, but everybody starts to burn out eventually, and Jerrica was worried her wick was already down to the bottom. Not to mention one of her earlobes was starting to get sore, which normally meant you’d have to leave the earring out of it for a while-- and that was not an option for her.

Now it was the morning of the day of the show, and the band was coming up the gangplank to meet the director for one last run-down before that evening’s performance. She had arrived as Jerrica, with Kimber, Aja, Shana, and Raya. All of them were impressed by the sight of the majestic Magnolia Tepals as they looked up and down the deck of the restored vessel. The boat was massive, thick and square with two levels of deck wrapping all around the center theater. The newly replaced railings and pillars shone bright white, not yet worn by weather and stained by the sun. The boards were a rich shade of brown, freshly sealed to keep the water out and giving even the floor beneath their feet a hint of elegance. The faint smell of fresh paint mixed in with the smell of water as they arrived.

“Oh, it’s so beautiful,” Jerrica said softly, almost a whisper, as she took it all in. For a moment, she felt like she really was back in the 1800s, and if she looked over the railing, there would be a small pusher ready to take the showboat back down the river.

“I don’t think we’ve ever performed on a boat before, have we?” asked Kimber, looking around the same as Jerrica was.

“We have,” said Shana. “A few times. We performed on a boat just last month, remember?”

“I don’t think we did,” said Kimber. “I think I would remember that.”

“Yes, we did,” Shana insisted. “It was a special engagement on a short cruise in the Chesapeake Bay. We were helping raise money to clean up the pollution. You said it was one of the best shows we ever did. The Misfits were there; they ended up falling into the water and you laughed so hard you could barely stand. You said you never wished you had a camera on you more and that’s why you started carrying a disposable camera around with you.”

Kimber pondered that assertion. “No, that doesn’t sound like something I’d do.”

“It is! Look, you’re carrying a disposable camera right now.”

Kimber looked at her left hand and saw the cheap camera wrapped in a thin cardboard of advertisements which she was currently carrying. “Oh, that’s weird. I wonder when that happened.”

“Kimber, you have got to be messing with me!” Shana said, irritated.

Aja put her hand on Shana’s shoulder. “Come on, Shana, it’s been how long and you still can’t get when she’s messing with you?”

“She drives me crazy sometimes,” said Shana.

“I know. Just let it go. You have to pick your battles.”

Jerrica turned to face her sisters. “Come on, guys,” she said, somewhat exasperated. “I really want to enjoy this. We don’t get many opportunities to play the grand opening of a historic venue and I want things to go as well as they can. I mean, there are enough things destined to go wrong without adding us fighting to the list. Rehearsals on land were bad enough. Pizzazz has never been more... more Pizzazz in her life! When she’s not intentionally sabotaging everything she sees, she’s dropping hints to me that their worst plan ever is right around the corner. I don’t even want to think of what trouble the Misfits can cause here on the river, and with Riot being here, I don’t want anything to happen between him and Rio when he shows up to drop off the instruments-- and if something goes wrong and we’re the cause of it, they might have to cover the damages out of our payment, and with back-to-school season coming up and the girls needing new clothes--”

“It’s okay, Jerrica.” Raya put a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about any of that. We can keep Riot from starting anything with Rio--”

“Or the other way around,” Shana interjected.

“--and we know how to handle the Misfits,” Raya continued. “We’ve been doing it for so long, we can probably do it in our sleep!”

“And when has anyone ever withheld our pay?” said Kimber. “Everyone loves us. You could sink the ship itself and the owner would say, ‘Oh, how cute. Here’s a thousand dollars.’” That got a smile out of Jerrica.

“You worry too much about things you really don’t have to.” Raya smiled at Jerrica. “You should worry about easier things, like whether our next album is going to go double platinum or just platinum.”

Jerrica smiled back. “You’re right. Gosh, I don’t know when it happened, but I think at some point I’ve turned into Dad.”

“You could do a lot worse,” said Kimber, giving her sister an elbow.

The door to the theater was suddenly flung open and a familiar man stumbled out onto the deck. This was Stanley Trimper, the director, looking extremely haggard but managing to smile. “Oh, thank goodness, ladies. I was afraid you were going to be late.” “We’re ten minutes early,” said Aja.

“Yes, but my life is in shambles,” replied Stanley. Stanley had come on as the director of the project, but due to several staffing issues out of anyone’s control, he had somehow ended up as the stage manager as well, making himself his own assistant and thus had nobody to help him get the show together. As a result he had lost twenty pounds since the beginning of the project and probably hadn’t slept since spring. Still, he never took that out on the talent, and he was happy to be a part of the project even if it might be slowly killing him. “Are we all here? No. No, we’re not. Where’s Jem?”

“She’ll be here in a minute,” said Jerrica. “I just needed to talk business with you before the show.”

“She can’t not be here,” said Stanley, getting increasingly agitated. “She’s the one who needs to be here the most! If she showed up and all of you didn’t, that would be better! I mean, nothing against her understudy, she’s a marvelous actress... but people didn’t come to see a show starring Pizzazz, Riot, and Millie the part-time accountant.” He paused. “Don’t tell her I said that. She’s fragile. I love her.”

“She’ll be here soon,” said Jerrica, desperately trying to calm him down before his stress added to her own and tipped them both over the edge. Stanley was easily agitated, but since she’d met him only a few months ago, it seemed like hardly anything had ever gone right for him, so maybe he had a right to be. “She just forgot... to leave her purse in the car.” Not one of Jerrica’s better lies, but if Stanley thought it odd he didn’t mention it. Jerrica slipped to the back of the group until she was blocked from sight by the others and said, “Oh, look, there she is right now!” Then, softly enough so that only her earrings could hear her, she said, “Synergy, I need a

Jem hologram coming up the gangplank right now.”

“As you wish, Jerrca,” intoned the calm, even voice of Synergy. In a flurry of pink sparkles appeared the projection of Jem: fabulously fashionable as always, striding with confidence and smiling radiantly as she made her way onto the ship.

“Oh, look, there she is,” Jerrica said loudly, still facing away from Stanley to hide her grimace. This was something she hated about her dual identity: when it was unavoidable that Jem and Jerrica needed to appear together. Jerrica hated the thought that she was currently embodying the wrong one, and the other one would accidentally be touched, or end up walking through something, and her cover would be blown. Jerrica watched carefully as the Jem hologram came up to join the group, a fair distance from Stanley and buffered by the rest of the band. “Sorry I’m late,” came Jem’s voice from the Jemstar earrings. Jerrica was close enough to Jem that it didn’t sound off. “I hope you won’t think I'm rude, but I can’t talk right now; I almost strained my voice at rehearsal last night and if I don’t rest it right up until warm-up time, I might hurt it.”

“Oh.” Stanley already looked like he had only ever been briefly acquainted with the sun at one point in his youth, but upon hearing that he went even paler. “Oh, my gosh, no, no, I don’t want that. Please. No. No talking. If I hear you talking I will probably die.” “Oh, dear,” said Raya.

“Come inside,” said Stanley, gesturing for them to follow him back through the doors. “I need you to see what you’ll be working with.” He held the door open as the five of them filed in past him.

It was Jerrica’s first in-person look at the interior, and she gasped at the sight. It was drop-dead gorgeous. The floor was covered in a rich, red carpet that matched the elegant plush seats. At some point over the years the old gas lamps had been replaced with electric lights, but all of them were kept in antique looking sconces to preserve the feeling that the theater’s guests had stepped back in time without any of the unpleasant inconveniences of the past such as low and inconsistent lighting. There was a balcony running above them, all around the three walls around the stage, with a wooden railing trimmed in gold. Onstage, the red and gold curtains were down, and Jerrica knew that the stagehands were hard at work getting the elegantly built sets and props in place for the performance.

“I want us to run through the show inside,” Stanley continued. “I’m sorry we can’t do a full dress rehearsal here, but the recreation of Maggie’s stage and backstage back in the studio was basically perfect. Maybe the backstage is a little smaller.” “I don’t think that’s actually possible,” said Kimber.

“Wait,” said Aja, “Who’s Maggie?”

“Maggie,” repeated Stanley, mostly to himself. Then, to the girls, “Yeah, so I’m on a nickname basis with the boat now.” He glanced over his shoulder at the stage. “Oh. So, uh,

there’s one difference. Is it an issue if this stage has a proscenium?” “I don’t know what that is,” said Kimber.

“Excellent,” said Stanley. “That’s a no. See, I wanted to do this with you, first, because I know you’ll actually listen and I wanted you to be able to hear what I said without the other troublemakers making that impossible. So what’s going to happen is, we’re going to run through the beats of the show, make sure everything’s the same. After that there’s going to be a mixer this afternoon with some important guests, some donors to the restoration project, some important people the boss is trying to impress. You guys have to be there but you don’t have to do anything. Just be nice and drink punch and maybe eat some crackers, and if somebody wants a picture just let them snap one.”

Kimber held up her camera. “Got it covered.”

“Please tell me you fixed the chord progression in the third song in the last act,” said

Stanley. “It was still not sounding good at the last rehearsal.”

“It’s perfect,” said Shana. “Do you want to hear it?”

“Yes, but there’s no time.” Already they could hear the sound of raucous laughter and chattering which sounded like the Misfits were getting nearer. “I need you to go meet Becky and make sure the costumes are all set up for tonight.”

“But Mr. Trimper,” said Jerrica, “I still need to go over a few things with you--”

“I know, I know, and I’m sorry, but I don’t have the time. Does it have to be me?”

“Well, I suppose I can ask--”

“Excellent.” Stanley cut her off, and Jerrica was pretty sure he didn’t even hear her answer. “Excuse me, I’ve got to go intercept the troublemakers... of all the days they could have come early, when have the Misfits ever arrived early to anything?” He let out a loud huff and started heading back to the theater doors. Before he left, he stopped, turned around, and said, “If I die, they’re not allowed to come to my funeral.” Then he let himself out, and Jerrica could just barely hear him say, “Ladies!” in mock joviality before he was drowned out by the sound of the

Misfits heckling.

Jerrica frowned. “All right, I can see Jerrica’s not going to get a chance to talk to him, so I might as well send her away. Is there anyone else in here with us?”

“All clear,” said Raya after they had all taken a quick look around.

“All right. It’s showtime, Synergy.” In a flash of holographic glitter, the Jem hologram disappeared and Jerrica transformed into her stunning and confident performing alter-ego. Looking herself over, Jem noted that Synergy had seen fit to put her in her costume for the show that night. And what a costume it was! The outfits for the show had initially been designed by a seamstress specializing in period clothing of the era, but then the designs had been passed over to Shana to add a colorful, modern flair to bring them into the 1980s with style. Although Jem hoped that no one had told the other bands that one of the Holograms was partially responsible for the outfits, she couldn’t deny that Shana’s style was what made the concept work. With the modern-but-vintage costumes and the added songs written by the three bands, the show promised to be a contemporary look at historical entertainment.

“Do you want to take a look at the backstage before trouble gets here?” Aja suggested.

That sounded like a good idea, so they headed up to the stage. They had just gotten behind the curtains when the door to the theater opened and the trouble in question came in as rambunctious as ever- from the sounds of it, the Misfits and the Stingers had arrived at the same time, and there had been some sort of “disagreement” among some of them.

“I’m glad we’re not out there for that,” said Raya. “I wonder what they’re fighting about.”

Kimber craned her neck out and tilted her head as if trying to find the exact best position for listening. “It sounds like Roxy threw a trout at Minx this morning... Jetta is yelling at Pizzazz for not backing Roxy up because she’s too busy flirting with Riot... and Rapture thinks Stormer told everyone at the last event that she’s not a real fortune teller.” “Wow, you’re good,” said Shana.

The only clear voice anyone could make out was Stanley’s, who said, “Come on, guys, knock it off! We have too much to do today before... Well, at least Pizzazz and Riot aren’t

fighting with each other. I’m going to go lie down. You aren’t listening to me.”

Kimber nudged Jem with her elbow. “You might be stressed, but at least you’re not

Stanley.”

“I’m glad I’m not,” admitted Jem, “although I do feel bad for the guy.”

~*~

Trouble couldn’t be avoided forever. At some point the Misfits and the Stingers were going to find out that Jem and the Holograms were there, and that’s when it always starts. Still, while the moment their trouble would start was as inevitable as the tides, it wasn’t nearly as scheduled, and the Holograms managed to avoid them entirely right up until it was time for Stanley’s run-through. This involved going through the motions of the play, but without actually performing the dialogue or songs, just the set changes and actor’s blocking so that everyone knew where exactly they would be going. As Stanley had guessed, it ran exactly the same as it did in their rehearsal theater, so that was one less thing to worry about.

Amazingly, the Misfits were on their best behavior during the run-through. Admittedly, their best behavior still wasn’t all that great. However, that only meant they were uncooperative and rude. There was no intentional sabotage, none of Pizzazz setting Jem up to fail as she tried to run through a scene, and absolutely no whispered threats of something big to come as soon as she let her guard down. After everything they had pulled for the dress rehearsals alone, it was almost like they weren’t even trying. It also seemed that whatever had been going on between the other two groups had ended in victory for the Stingers, and the Misfits were either regrouping or pouting about it. That might have knocked some of the wind out of their sails, but Jem didn’t think that was the whole story.

When the run-through ended, Stanley dismissed them to prepare for the mixer before heading off to a small closet backstage where he planned to take a brief standing-up nap. Jem was about to go to her dressing room, but Riot stepped in her way.

“Jem, my love, you look stressed,” he said.

“Really?” Jem tried to laugh it off, but she could tell it felt forced.

“Why don’t you let me help you?” Riot leaned close to her, the sound of his voice like a siren’s song, trying to lure her close. He reached out and took her hand, rubbing his thumb across the back soothingly. “I know many ways to help a young woman relax.” “No, thank you.” Jem pulled her hand back.

Riot smiled at her. Jem was sure he meant it to be charming, but it came off as condescending. “Oh, Jem, when will you understand that you will be mine?”

Jem stepped around him and continued heading backstage. “I don’t have time for this. I have to go.”

“You may not; I have all the time in the world for you, Jem!”” Riot called after her.

As Jem stepped backstage, she spotted a group of stagehands standing just behind the curtains and quietly discussing the various minutiae they would need to know by heart in order to make the performance go smoothly. They were all dressed in identical black turtlenecks and matching jeans, perfect for blending into the darkness to do their jobs unseen. One of them, a freckled young woman with honey blonde hair, spotted Jem and waved, then excused herself from the group and hurried over to Jem.

“What is it?” asked Jem.

“Hi!” The stagehand was smiling a little wider than seemed natural, and something about it was off-putting to Jem. Still, she listened as the stagehand continued, “First of all, great to meet you! I’m Alma, I only just got started here today-- if you haven’t noticed, this place is a tiny bit short handed at the moment,” Alma added with a bit of sarcasm. “I just wanted to warn you that we’ve been having a few issues with arranging how things are going to go back here, so there might need to be some quick changes to keep up with. You’re okay with that, right?”

“Yeah, no problem,” said Jem. “If there’s one thing I’m used to, it’s things changing quickly. You learn how to keep going with them. In fact, I don’t think I’ve done a single show where everything’s gone the way it was supposed to.”

The stagehand laughed. “Yeah, don’t I know it. Sorry to interrupt you. I’ve got to go. But remember what I said! Things changing! Bye!” And she hurried off back to the group.

Jem gave a friendly wave, but inside she was groaning. Great. Another thing to be stressed about.

~*~

The tide came in right when it was least suspected, in the middle of the mixer.

Shortly after the run-through was finished and the crew knew they were on track to do the show perfectly, it was time to transform the theater into a social gathering. The stagehands came out with folding tables and nice tablecloths, and then coolers full of food. That was set up in just a few minutes, and then the Magnolia Tepals was opened to the exclusive ticket holders. Jem spent the next two hours or so introducing herself, taking pictures, talking business with wealthy people who had potential opportunities, and in general living up to Jem’s image.

Eventually, Jem had to go refuel at the refreshments table. There was a big bowl of punch, which looked cool and refreshing to her in the hot, late summer afternoon. She was still absentmindedly rubbing her sore ear. Much as she loved her earrings, and the technology they contained, she couldn’t wait to get them off that night when she finally got home.

Jem poured herself a glass of punch and took a sip. It was good, not overly sugary and with a fruity tang. She took a moment to tune out the rest of the room and just focus on herself. Jem closed her eyes and took another sip, this one long and slow, with her eyes closed so she could savor the cool temperature and the zesty taste.

Unfortunately, that was not going to be allowed. As she was enjoying herself, she heard the perpetually irritated voice of Pizzazz say to her, “Well, well, well, look who it is.”

Jem swallowed her drink as she opened her eyes to meet Pizzazz’s, glaring at her from the other side of the table. “Not now, Pizzazz,” she said, less in an annoyed rival way and more in a tired elementary school teacher way.

“Your dress looks nice.”

That was probably the single most surprising thing Jem had ever, in her entire life, heard

Pizzazz say. “Oh. Um, thank you.”

Pizzazz smirked. “Too bad about what’s going to happen to it.”

‘And there it is,’ thought Jem. She touched her earring again. She knew it was only making her ear feel worse, but she was doing it without thinking. “What’s going to happen to it?” she asked, knowing full well she was taking the very obvious bait.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Jem took another sip of punch. “You’re right. I’d rather be surprised.”

“Yeah, right. Have fun looking over your shoulder.”

“I’m sure you and the others have something very lovely planned for me,” said Jem evenly. She knew she should just stop talking, that Pizzazz was trying to get a reaction and any reaction at all would do.

Pizzazz sneered. “You think you’re so perfect, don’t you?”

“I don’t think I’m perfect.”

“Oh, please. Miss Goody Two-Shoes Jem thinks her band is so much better than anyone else’s, in her giant mansion that she turned into an orphanage or whatever because oh, she’s such a better person than everyone else, look at me, look how great I am at everything--”

“I think this is stemming from your own insecurity,” said Jem, still calm even though Pizzazz was getting herself riled up.

That was the wrong thing to say. Pizzazz barked out a laugh and said, “That’s rich! What do I have to be insecure about?”

“Nothing at all,” said Jem, and she meant it. Pizzazz was rich (or at least had full access to her rich father’s wallet), she had friends, she had a successful rock band, all things that other people would envy. The truth was, Pizzazz wanted to be angry and she wanted an enemy, and

Jem had come along at exactly the right time to fill that role for her.

“No, really!” Pizzazz, of course, didn’t believe Jem at all. “What do you think I have to be insecure about?”

Jem turned to walk away. “Goodbye, Pizzazz.”

Pizzazz reached out and grabbed Jem over the table. She’d tried to grab her hair, but since it wasn’t real, she’d grabbed Jem’s scapha instead. Her movements were so fast she had given a yank to get Jem to come back before she realized what was in her hand. As anyone who’s been dragged by their ear before should know, that’s a painful thing to have happen.

“Ew!” Pizzazz squawked when she realized she was holding flesh instead of hair. Her hand brushed up against the Jemstar earring, which had been worried loose by Jem’s fidgeting, and it fell directly into the punchbowl.

Panic ran through Jem like a terrier through a dog run. The only thought that went through her mind was, ‘I can’t change back in the middle of a crowd!’ She was only frozen for the split second it took her to register what was happening, and then she turned around and bolted backstage. In just a few seconds, she was in her dressing room with the door slammed and shut behind her. She leaned against it and slid down to the floor, too afraid to look in her mirror, afraid to see Jerrica looking back at her.

“Is everything all right, Jem?” Synergy asked through the one remaining earring. “I’m getting some signal interference.

“No,” said Jem, “and don’t talk right now. My right earring came off in the punch bowl. I don’t have it right now.”

“I can speak to you only through the left.”

“Thank you.” Jem closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. “Did the signal drop out at all?”

“Not exactly,” said Synergy. “The Jemstar earrings work best when they’re both working together to project an image. If one of them is having problems, the other can’t project as well. It can cause the image to degrade in quality until it’s no longer believable.”

“How long can I go with only one earring before they find out that I’m not real?”

“Impossible to say,” said Synergy. “I can’t predict exactly where the threshold for believability is for any one person.”

There was a light knock at the door. “Jem?” It was Kimber. “You in there?”

Jem stood up and moved to straighten out her dress until she remembered it wasn’t real. Even after all this time, she still forgot. “Yeah. Come in.”

Kimber opened the door just enough to get in and closed it behind her. Jem pulled out the chair at her makeup table and sat down. Her head was turned down. She just felt so low about everything all of a sudden. It was probably made worse because of her stress.

“I saw you and Pizzazz at the punch bowl,” said Kimber. She was fidgeting with something in her pocket. “I saw what she did to you. I got the earring back before anyone else could snatch it up. Also I called her a cow.” Kimber took the earring out and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” said Jem, taking it. “For the earring, I mean. Well, maybe for the comment, too. You shouldn’t name-call, obviously, but she makes me so mad sometimes.”

“Your disguise didn’t do anything,” said Kimber. “It didn’t even flicker.”

Jem looked up at Kimber while she put the earring back in. She smiled a little after hearing that her cover wasn’t blown, but that only lasted until she saw the look on Kimber’s face. It was complete surprise, and not the good kind of surprise like a surprise birthday party. It was the bad kind of surprise, like a surprise birthday party when you hated surprises, parties, and birthdays.

“Kimber? What’s wrong?”

“Uh... well, can I take back what I just said?”

Jem’s stomach sank. “Why? What do you see?”

Kimber’s mouth was open, but she didn’t even try to make words come out of it. Jem turned and looked in her mirror, and almost cried out when she did.

Jem had a moustache. A pink, curly moustache right there on her upper lip for all the world to see. Immediately her hand went up to feel it, but when she did all she felt was her own skin. “Um, Synergy?”

“Yes?” Synergy sounded as calm as Jem wished she was.

“Are you still getting interference?”

“Something is slightly altering my projections,” she said. “This is something that can happen when small particles get inside the earrings. They can interfere with my processors and make them run incorrectly, which can alter the holograms or make them disappear. I can tell that this is happening, but not what the effect is.”

“I have a moustache!” Jem hadn’t meant to say it so urgently, but, well, the situation was urgent.

“Oh, my,” said Synergy. “That’s not good.”

“Boy, you can say that again,” said Kimber.

“What do I do?” asked Jem, her voice drowning in desperation.

“You have several options.” Synergy’s placid voice was a blessing at the moment, because it was the only thing keeping Jem together. “The best thing to do would be to remove the obstruction.”

“They fell in the punch bowl,” said Jem.

“That would be the sugar crystals, then. You can open the earrings and clean everything out with a toothbrush and rubbing alcohol, then allow it to dry.”

“What if we’re short on alcohol and time?” asked Kimber.

“You could try to use one earring until you can get back to the mansion, though I can’t say how long the image will last, especially with the harsh stage lights putting more scrutiny on the images.”

Jem then turned to Kimber. “Go get Aja. See if you can come up with anything we can use to clean the earrings.”

“You got it.” Kimber left quickly.

Now alone with Synergy, Jem leaned back in her seat and began to think. Bouncing ideas off of Synergy seemed as good a place to start as any. “How long would I have to wear both earrings again before I could safely go back to one?”

“It would take me several hours to regroup enough to send a strong enough projection through one earring if you allow me to run the single-projection process for as long as I’m able to. It’s much harsher and might cause overheating.”

“In you or in the earring?”

“In me.”

“Not that it matters either way,” said Jem. “I couldn’t be Jem if the earring was fried, but I don’t know what we would do if you fried.”

“I would be unable to project images for you either way,” said Synergy gravely.

Jem shook her head. “Not that. I meant that you’re our friend and we care about you. We wouldn’t want to risk anything bad happening to you.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” Synergy’s voice was the same as always, but Jem thought she could hear how touched she was.

“Do you think if I stayed in here until the show and stayed in here during intermission, that would be enough for you to manage it during each of the acts?”

“I cannot say. I have no idea at what exact point the human eye will no longer be convinced by the illusion.”

“Hm.” Jem was out of ideas.

There was a knock on the dressing room door. Without thinking about it, Jem said, “It’s okay, come in.”

Jem expected to see Kimber or Aja coming through the door, so she was startled to instead see Riot. Immediately she jumped up to stand, turned around quickly so she wasn’t facing him, head turned so he couldn’t see her face in the mirror. “Riot! I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else!”

“Didn’t dare to dream it could possibly be me, eh?” he said in the usual smooth voice he used when he wanted to charm Jem. “Don’t worry. I can make dreams come true that you didn’t even know you had.”

“I’m flattered,” said Jem, her tone intentionally implying the exact opposite. “I’m sorry, I can’t talk right now.”

Since she wasn’t looking at him, she didn’t see him reaching out to her and only realized what he was doing when he gently took her shoulder and turned her around. Desperately she babbled, “Riot, wait, please don’t, you don’t--”

“Let me see your face,” Riot crooned. “You know I love looking into your--” but when he actually tried to, he stopped short.

“I can explain!” Jem said nervously.

“No need,” said Riot. “A lot of women have this problem, they just don’t speak of it. It must already be so embarassing to forget to take care of it until it’s too late.” He put a finger to her lips. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Jem had to take a second to parse his response. “It... doesn’t put you off?”

“Of course not. There’s nothing so beautiful to me as a woman truly being what she was meant to be.”

Jem doubted this was true, knew that Riot would say anything to make her his and then come to her with wax strips before he’d let her kiss him. Or maybe there was a tiny kernel of feminism hidden somewhere in there.

“It’s not what you think,” said Jem, who would rather control the narrative herself. “Me and the girls were fooling around with some spare costume pieces and didn’t realize there was rubber cement on this one. My friends are working on helping me fix it.”

“Oh? And will they be back soon?” he purred. Somehow, without her realizing it, he had been taking small steps towards her, and she had been taking equally small steps away from him. Now she had bumped into the wall behind her, and had nowhere to go. Riot, taking advantage of this, put his elbow on the wall beside her head and leaned in closely.

“Any minute now,” said Jem.

Riot couldn’t possibly have missed the warning in his voice, so he must have been deliberately ignoring it. “Don’t worry about that. I can work fast if I need to.”

There was another knock at the door. Jem leaned her head sideways, dodging Riot’s ever approaching lips, and called, “Come in. Please come in.”

“Uh, are we interrupting something?” Aja asked as she stepped in, Kimber behind her.

Riot scowled. “Do you mind? We’re in the middle of something.”

“Do you mind?” Aja snapped back. “She asked me to come.”

“Yeah, we’re kind of dealing with a problem here,” added Kimber. “You’re kind of getting in the way of us solving it.

Riot opened her mouth to answer, but Jem cut in. “You know, Riot, if you know what will, maybe you could help?”

“Really?” Riot turned to her. “And what’s in it for me?”

“Well,” said Jem coyly, “I could really find myself falling for a guy who drops everything

to help me out...”

“Interesting... very well, Jem, I’ll see what I can do. And we’ll see if you’re telling me the truth. I’ll be absolutely heartbroken if you’re not.” With that, Riot strolled out, closing the door behind himself.

“What was that?” asked Kimber as Jem untensed and sank back into the wall.

“Riot thinks my moustache is beautiful,” said Jem. “I told him it was a costume piece that got stuck.”

“You’re missing a good show out there,” said Kimber. “Rapture got chased out by security for running a fortune-telling hustle outside, and now they’re negotiating how to let her back in since she’s in the band. Stanley is not on her side. Minx was just looking for Riot to help.”

“Maybe Riot should have been keeping a closer eye on her instead of trying to kiss me,” Jem laughed. Then, suddenly, her eyes popped out. “Oh, no! The show! I was so busy dodging

Riot I didn’t get to think of what to do about the show!”

“Well, give me the earring,” said Aja, “and I’ll see what I can do!”

Aja sat down at the makeup table as Jem set down the earring. The eyeglass repair kit wasn’t really a great tech repair accessory, but it was what was available. The important thing was, it had a tiny screwdriver close to the right size to open the earring, a magnifying glass for looking at the tiny technology, and a good cloth that wouldn’t leave fibers in the chips.

“Be careful, Aja,” said Kimber.

“Oh, wow, I would never have thought of being careful,” said Aja sarcastically. “Thanks, Kimber, what would I do without you?”

Kimber looked hurt, but Jem cut her off before she could respond. “Come on, guys, don’t

start now. Things are bad enough.”

Jem stood nervously for a while. She wanted to see what Aja was doing, but she didn’t want to crowd her or hover, so she stood at the far corner of the dressing room and waited, fidgeting with her empty earlobe as she did. It was still sore.

“How’s it going?” asked Kimber.

“I’m having trouble getting it open,” said Aja. “This screwdriver is almost the right size, but not entirely. I’ve only got five of the seven screws off.”

“You mean you haven’t even started yet‽” “Well, I don’t hear you offering to help!” Jem squeezed her eyes shut.

“Stop yelling!” Kimber shouted back. “You’re upsetting Jem!”

“Who’s yelling? You’re the one who’s yelling, and you’re upsetting Jem!” “You both are!” Jem shouted, and that shut the other two up.

“Jem...” Aja said softly.

“I’m so sick of this!” Jem continued. “I have to be onstage in less than an hour, and I either have to blow my secret or humiliate myself in a way that might still blow my secret anyway! Or I could back out and completely ruin Jem’s image, as if this--” she indicated her face-- “wouldn’t do that anyway! Not to mention Pizzazz is going to do something tonight, Riot won’t get off my back, now you’re fighting, Jerrica has a business meeting on Monday, Ashley’s still getting in trouble at school--”

Jem hadn’t realized she was crying until her own choked throat cut her off.

Kimber glanced at Aja, who was watching Jem with concern in her eyes. Then Kimber said to Jem, “I’m sorry. I guess we’re all a little frayed. I’m sorry I’m letting my stress make everything worse for you.”

Jem wiped her eyes on her sleeve. It didn’t matter if she got tears on it, because no one would see Jerrica’s sleeve under her hologram costume. “I don’t want any of us to fight,” she said with a sniff.

“I don’t either,” said Aja. “I shouldn’t have been sarcastic, it only made everything worse.”

Kimber cleared her throat. “What did you say about Pizzazz?”

“When we were talking at the punch bowl. She said something was going to happen to me-- well, no, she implied something bad was going to happen to my dress. I have no idea what that means.”

Kimber and Aja looked at each other.

“I’ll go tell Raya and Shana,” said Kimber. “We’ll keep an eye on them and try to figure out what they’re doing. You stay here and fix the earring.”

“I’ll do my best.” Aja immediately went back to the earring as Kimber left, and with just a little more negotiating, the last screw came free. “Ah! Finall-- ohhhhhh, whoops.”

“Whoops? Why whoops? What was the whoops about?” Jem was practically wringing her hands with all the anxiety she had inside her.

“It’s fine,” said Aja quickly. “It wasn’t the earring. Just the earring back. I, uh, knocked it off the table.”

“You lost the earring back‽” Jem looked like she was going to cry again. “They’re so tiny! We’ll never find it again!”

“There are more earring backs in the world, it’s okay,” said Aja soothingly. “You can last for one night like this. Now, let’s see what we’re working with.” She gently took apart the two sides of the earrings. “Oh, boy.”

“First ‘whoops’ and now ‘oh, boy?’ You’re not exactly filling me with confidence here, Aja.”

“It’s just really more sticky than I thought it would be,” said Aja. “We should probably figure out where the earrings are leaking and seal it up. Now relax, I’ll have this cleaned in a jiffy and we’ll see how Synergy is doing.”

~*~

Back outside, the party was still going. Jem’s hasty exit hadn’t gone unnoticed, but that point of interest had settled down and now people were milling normally once more, standing on the stage, in the pit, and all down the aisles, left, right, and center, out the open doors to the deck and the dock as they talked, laughed, and enjoyed themselves.

Riot was talking with the head of security about letting Rapture back in. He was having a difficult time of it, as Pizzazz was currently hanging off him and batting her eyelashes as he batted her away with his open palm.

“I don’t think you understand,” said Riot. “That woman you kicked off was a part of my band. There is no show without all three of the Stingers, do you hear me?”

Security was already shaking his head. “Oh, we know who she is. But the director said, and I quote, ‘Look, as long as there’s a show I’m in charge of this boat, I can decide who’s on it, and I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life right now.”

“The director is an idiot,” said Riot.

“He said she can come back for the pre-show meeting, the second act, and that’s it. And I’m supposed to bring her on.”

“Well, what if I told you I have a very good reason for you to let her back on?”

“I’d say that you don’t sign my paychecks so you’re not the one who gets to decide what

I do.”

“I could be. How about-- Pizzazz, let go of me, I’m busy-- we could always use good

security at our shows. I assume you’ve heard how we can get the crowds, shall we say, active?”

“Ri-ot,” whined Pizzazz, “forget about this pig-headed bull. I’ve got something to show you.”

“If it’s the make-out closet, I’ve already seen it.”

Pizzazz dropped his arm. “What? With who?”

“With whom,” said Riot, solely to annoy her. “And with Jem, of course.”

“With Jem?”

As Riot was already accustomed to Pizzazz’s various shrieks, he was prepared and braced himself when she let out a particularly piercing one. The security man, on the other hand, had never heard such a noise before and he seemed momentarily stunned by it. Pizzazz turned on her heels and stomped away so hard one would swear they felt the boat rocking.

Over in the corner of the theater, Stormer was sitting in one of the seats in the back row next to the wall. She looked up when she saw Kimber approach her and smiled. “Hi, Kimber.”

Kimber sat down in the empty seat next to Stormer. “Hey, Stormer. How’s it going?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Making mischief.”

“Yeah, that’s what I needed to talk about.” Kimber shifted awkwardly. It was always a little difficult when she wanted to talk to Stormer about inter-band conflicts. They were friends in a certain way, but Stormer’s loyalties were forever with the Misfits, and for Kimber to ask her to go against them put her in a terrible position where she either had to betray the only people who she belonged with or hurt the only friend she had who treated her nicely. That wasn’t fair to ask of anyone, so Kimber didn’t.

Still, this was getting serious, so she said, “I need to ask you something. Pizzazz said something about having a plan against Jem tonight. Would you happen to know anything about that?”

Stormer didn’t have to answer in words. Her eyes widened by reflex as soon as she heard the word “plan.” To her credit she really did try to play it cool and said, “Oh, really? That’s interesting.”

“You’ve got to level with me,” said Kimber. “Are you guys planning something?”

Stormer’s face flushed. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Yeah, I know... but look, Jem’s got a lot of problems right now.”

“Well, I’ll have a lot of problems if I tell you anything.”

Kimber leaned back in her seat. She let there be silence between them for a short while before she spoke again, carefully choosing her words to put the least amount of pressure on Stormer. “Is there anything you can tell me that won’t make it look like you blabbed? Any tiny piece of information I can look out for that won’t get you in trouble?”

Stormer didn’t answer right away. She looked over at Pizzazz, shoving her way through the crowd for no other reason than to push people out of the way, at Roxy and Jetta at the snack table making comments about every single person who came by, and then at Kimber, sitting next to her and smiling kindly. Then she looked down into her lap, at her fidgeting hands, and thought.

Finally, she said softly, “Act II. Intermission.”

“That’s right after Jem’s character gets kidnapped,” said Kimber. “Something’s going to happen between then and the start of Act III?”

“I didn’t say anything.” Stormer got up. “I’m sorry. If Pizzazz sees me talking to you, she’ll flip.”

As Stormer was squeezing past Kimber, Kimber grabbed her wrist. “Wait!”

Stormer froze. “What?”

“Thank you.” Kimber let her go. “Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to us. You’re a good friend.”

Stormer shook her head as she continued to shuffle away. “No. I’m a terrible friend.

Pizzazz and Roxy are going to kill me.”

~*~

There was a gentle knocking at Jem’s dressing room door. Both Jem and Aja looked up at the door in a slight panic.

“Uh, excuse me,” said a voice Jem recognized as Alma the stagehand. “Stan’s gathering everyone up. The show will be starting shortly. He needs everyone backstage.” Jem leaned close to Aja and whispered, “How much longer until the earring is fixed?”

“It’s slow going,” Aja replied. “I’m only halfway done and I’ve been at this for over twenty minutes now. And even then I can’t promise it’ll be fixed fixed.”

Jem weighed her options in her head. Then she called out, “All right, I’m coming.”

“You’re really going out?”

“The first act is under an hour. I think Synergy can keep it up for that long. It’s the best we can hope for.”

“If you’re sure...”

Jem touched her remaining earring. “Synergy, I need to keep my hair over my ears.

Stanley will flip if I go out only wearing one earring.”

“Consider it done.” A moment later, the projection of Jem’s hair had been altered slightly so that it hung over her ears and stayed there no matter how she moved.

“Wish me luck,” said Jem as she opened the door.

“Break a leg,” Aja called after her.

After Jem was gone and Aja was still working, Kimber burst in, out of breath. “Where’s Jem?”

“She just left. The show’s about to start.”

“Oh, no! I’ve got to warn her!”

“Warn her about what? What’s going on?”

“I just talked to Stormer. She said, ‘Act II, Intermission.’ That’s when it’s happening!”

“Uh-oh. Well, she’s probably nearby. Let’s try and get her.”

Meanwhile, Jem found Stanley and the other players, including Riot and Pizzazz, grouped right behind the stage. Rapture and Minx were there, too, though the security man from earlier was gripping each of them tightly by the forearm.

“And you both can get off my boat the second the curtain comes down on Act II,” Stanley was saying as Jem stepped up to the group. The only space left was beside Riot, so she took it.

“Ah, so you couldn’t stay away from me, could you, Jem?” Riot smiled as he looked her up and down. Jem tensed, waiting for him to comment that something about her looked unusual, but thankfully he never did.

“This is ridiculous,” Minx said with a flip of her long, silky hair. “I haven’t done anything wrong! I didn’t force those two men to fight just because they found out they both went into the kissing closet with me.”

“No, but you were egging them on,” said Stanley.

“I was not!”

“You were pumping your fists and shouting, ‘Yes! Yes! Fight for my affection!’”

“Oh, is that what you mean by this, ‘egging them on?’ I have never heard of this expression before.”

“All right. I’m done talking about this.” He turned his attention to everyone else. “Look... just everyone try to make sure this thing runs smoothly? We did so, so good in rehearsals. I think. I wasn’t awake for all of them. Jem! Jem, darling, how are you?”

“I’m fine,” said Jem. She saw Pizzazz glaring at her from the other side of the group, Jem guessed because of a mixture of jealousy over Riot, and envy that Jem was the star. ‘Honestly,’ thought Jem, ‘you can take them both.’

“I’m so glad to hear it. I was worried when you ran out earlier. So, are you ready to go out and put on the best show of your life?”

“I’m going to do my best,” she replied.

“Good. Take your places. Let’s get this show going.”

As everyone scrambled to take their positions, Pizzazz made sure to pass directly beside Jem and hiss, “You’d better watch your back!” right in her ear.

A few feet away, as Jem stepped on to the stage, Aja and Kimber stepped around the costume rack that had been blocking them from each other’s view.

“Oh, no,” said Kimber. “We’re too late!”

“There’s still one intermission before the Big One,” said Aja. “We’ll catch her after the first act.”

Jem was nervous as the curtains lifted, the harsh stage lights shining in her face. The whole party had been cleared away in her absence and now it was truly a theater, the set dressed perfectly, the seats full and the audience eagerly anticipating the coming story. Jem wasn’t as used to acting as she was to singing, but she took to it the same way: as soon as it was time for her to start, all of the work she did during rehearsal flooded back to her and the performance came to her automatically.

Throughout the first act, Jem tried to keep a close eye on Pizzazz’s character. Not so much that it looked like her character was more interested in the villain than the dashing hero, but at least enough to know where she was. She had to give up soon enough, though, because she realized that it was impossible to tell if Pizzazz was really scheming or if it was just the fact that she was playing a scheming character.

As the show went on, she allowed herself to get swept up in the spectacle of it- and what a spectacle it was! If she wasn’t currently starring in the production, Jem might have bought a ticket to see this herself. There was of course the romance between Jem and Riot, and Pizzazz’s conniving to get rid of Jem so that she could marry him. But that wasn’t nearly enough. The show had to bring the characters to exotic locales, places where disaster could happen around any corner. In the first act alone, there was a fire, a train robbery, an earthquake, a flood, a murder, and Jem had to don a disguise to hide from her enemies.

When the first act ended, Jem rushed backstage before the curtain had even fully touched

down and burst into her dressing room. “Is it fixed yet?” “Calm down,” said Aja.

“I think they can tell there’s something wrong,” said Jem. “Riot was giving me funny looks all throughout the accusations.”

“Relax,” said Aja. “It’s fixed.” She handed over the earring.

Jem put the earring in her ear. It felt a little better now because, while Aja was working, Jem had put some of the rubbing alcohol on both of her piercing holes. It was still a little sore from the ordeal, but there wasn’t a fresh irritation as she inserted the jewelry. Jerrica took a deep breath. She closed her eyes so she couldn’t see the mirror and said tentatively, “How do I look?” Aja’s voice was triumphant. “Outrageous!”

Jem opened one eye, and then the other. “Oh!” she said, delighted at her own reflection.

“I look like myself again! Er, I look like Jem again, at least.”

“Now all you have to worry about is the Misfits,” said Aja. “Kimber heard from Stormer that whatever they’re planning comes during the next intermission.”

“Oh, no,” Jem groaned. “Are you serious?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Well... we’ll just have to keep an eye on them and try to stay ahead of it, I guess.

Nothing else for it.”

The second act was, if possible, even more sensational than the first. In this act they employed the full extent of the panoramic background, brought two live horses out on stage, traveled to three more exotic locations, and Jem’s character continued living her secret life, looking over her shoulder for danger lest the discovery of her true identity be her final downfall.

The problem was her earring. The Jemstar earrings were slightly heavier than ordinary jewelry, added to her paranoia about losing them, and she found herself touching her ear far more than necessary. She was sure she could see Stanley frowning, knew he could tell something was wrong, and she tried not to worry about it, but she couldn’t risk anything going wrong for her. She also had to keep Riot from being too touchy with her without making it look like her character wasn’t interested in him. All in all, she was relieved when her character was kidnapped by the villain’s accomplice and dragged offstage.

As soon as they were out of sight of the audience, the actor playing the accomplice let go of Jem and pulled away. “Sorry if I was too rough,” he whispered.

“No, not at all,” said Jem politely.

The next moment, her other arm was grabbed roughly by Alma. “Sorry, Jem, but we’ve got to clear this area. There’s not enough room to move the instruments around so we need you

to step outside until they wrap up the act. You’re okay with that, aren’t you?” “Are you sure? It looks like there’s plenty of room,” said Jem.

“Trust me, there’s a lot going on that you don’t know about that stagehands do. C’mon, trust me.”

“Well, okay, if you’re sure...” Jem allowed herself to be led out the backstage door onto the docks of the Magnolia Tepals.

~*~

Stanley clapped his hands as he joined the cast and the bands backstage. “Wonderful, great act. This is really all coming together. The months without sleep will have all been worth it. Minx, Rapture, get off of my boat. Holograms, are you ready to set up? Wait, hang on... where’s Jem?”

“She might be in her dressing room,” said Aja. “Probably taking a breather.”

“No,” said the actor who’d kidnapped Jem’s character. “She just went outside a few

minutes ago with that new stagehand.”

“New stagehand? What new stagehand?” Stanley looked at the actor suspiciously.

“The one you hired for today? Because we didn’t have enough people?”

“We didn’t hire anyone. Don’t you think if we could hire more people we would have done that a month ago? Do you think if I was in charge of hiring and firing stagehands, I wouldn’t have let two of them go to get a stage manager for myself? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re all great.”

“Wait,” said Shana slowly. “I saw her, too. She said you hired her. If that’s not true, then why’s she...” Shana trailed off and looked around. “Did Pizzazz come with us?”

“I wasn’t watching her,” said Stanley. “Riot sings for another minute after she leaves the

stage for the act.”

There was a pause, and then in an instant everyone ran for the door.

~*~

As soon as Jem got outside, she noticed they weren’t alone. Waiting for them were Roxy, Stormer, and Jetta. The door slammed behind her as the Misfits surrounded her, blocking her from getting away.

“Well, look what we got here,” said Jetta with a sinister grin.

“What’s going on?” Jem demanded. She turned around to the door, but Alma was blocking it. “Let me back in. I don’t have time to deal with the Misfits right now, I have a show to do.”

“Too bad.” Alma put her hands to the side of her face and hairline. A moment later, she swept her hair and face away with a flourish. “Because you’re dealing with us right now!”

Jem gasped. “Clash! I should have known!”

It was indeed Clash who had disguised herself as Alma the stagehand, so that Jem wouldn’t be suspicious when she was asked to step outside. Jem would never go anywhere with a Misfit without backup, but someone whose job it is to sink into the background wouldn’t even be noticeable enough to Jem for her to consider mistrusting one. Clash was grinning triumphantly with her real face, as pleased with herself as a single person could be.

“Hey!” Roxy said to Clash. “What have we told you about implying you’re a Misfit with your word choices!”

“What?” Clash looked upset. “What did I do?”

“You said ‘dealing with us’ after she said ‘dealing with the Misfits.’ That implies you’re one of us!”

“Oh, that’s a good catch, I almost missed that one,” said Jetta.

Clash’s look of triumph slowly disappeared, leaving one of embarrassment and frustration. Her moment had passed.

Roxy then addressed Jem. “You’ve got a lotta nerve upstaging Pizzazz like that.”

“I haven’t been upstaging her,” said Jem. “She’s been doing a wonderful job in the show.

She’s really thrived in this role.”

“Well, you got that right,” snarled Roxy. “That’s what we Misfits are to you, isn’t it? The bad guys? We’re the bad guys to the whole world!”

“That’s only because you act like the bad guys,” said Jem. She was teetering between being intimidated facing them alone and being amused by their efforts to insult her.

“She’s got a point,” Stormer said quietly.

Jetta whipped her head around and glared daggers at Stormer. “Who’s side are you on again?”

“Yours!” Stormer squeaked.

Just then Pizzazz came running around the corner. She sounded out of breath and seemed to be having a little trouble running in her costume, but she made it just the same. “Hurry up, they're running fast!”

“Oh, no, do we have to leg it?” asked Jetta.

“No, no, I mean that Riot’s going to be done singing any second now! Let’s get on with this!”

Roxy and Stormer grabbed Jem’s left arm while Pizzazz and Jetta grabbed her right arm. “Get ready to get completely soaked, Princess Jem! Hope you can swim!” Pizzazz’s taunts sounded more sinister to Jem than they probably were, but Jem was worried about her freshly repaired earring being damaged again, possibly even worse. Or losing it in the Mississippi River.

“Let go of me!” Jem cried out as she began to struggle. She continued to call for help, hoping someone inside would hear her as soon as the act ended, or that someone passing by on land would hear.

“Wait,” said Clash, “This is the super secret plan you couldn’t tell me about? You’re just going to throw her in the river?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Pizzazz demanded. “What, you think she deserves to stay dry after everything she’s done to us?”

“I’m just a little surprised! You told me that you were going to ‘literally’ blow her out of the water, that’s all.”

“What do you think we’re doing right now?”

“Um... I mean... you’re kind of doing the opposite right now. Putting her into the water is the opposite of blowing her out of the water.”

“Well, maybe if you had come to the planning meeting on time, you could have aired these complaints before we decided on this! No, you know what? You just blew your chance. I would have made you a Misfit after we pulled this up, but nope. Now you’re back where you started. Maybe if you’re good and do what we tell you, we’ll give you another chance in the future, but not right now.”

“Can we get on with it?” Jetta cut in. “She’s struggling a lot right now.”

“Yeah, it’s also hard to hear you fighting over her shouting for help,” added Stormer.

“Yeah, we don’t have time for this,” said Roxy.

Clash scowled, and stepped away from the door. “Oops, I guess I’m not standing guard anymore.”

“What? You get back in front of that door right now!” Pizzazz pointed at the door with one hand.

“Oi! Don’t let go, I can’t hold her myself!” Jetta growled.

“Sorry,” said Clash. “Maybe if I were a Misfit I could be the group’s door guard, but unfortunately I’m just a groupie so my hands are tied.”

“All right! All right! Whatever, I hereby make you a... uh... a temporary level 1 Misfit on probation. All you have to do to be an official Misfit is pass a series of challenges to be determined later! Now get in front of the door and keep it closed!”

Clash squealed, clapping her hands together in lieu of clanging her cymbals, which she’d left at home. “You mean it?”

“Sure, whatever!” Pizzazz grabbed Jem again, who had not yet given up trying to get free. “Quiet, you.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise, you’ll never regret it!”

All of a sudden, the door burst open and what looked like the entire company was standing right there in the doorway ready to spill out, with the Holograms in the front. As if it would make them less likely to get in trouble, Jetta, Roxy, and Stormer immediately let go of

Jem. Pizzazz, however, still had a death grip on her captive.

“What are you doing?” Stanley’s voice boomed out from inside the theater, projecting all the way across the Mississippi as he pushed his way to the front.

“Mind your own business, Stanley!” Pizzazz shouted back at him. “This doesn’t concern you!”

Pizzazz was pulling on Jem’s arm as hard as she could as Jem began clawing at Pizzazz’s hand. “Let go of me!” Jem shouted as she began prying Pizzazz’s fingers off.

Pizzazz yanked Jem again and shoved her into the railing of the boat. Jem, thinking fast, kicked her leg next to Pizzazz’s ankles and swept under them, causing her to fall over. Pizzazz fell sideways, into the railing, and flipped over it. She screamed as she fell off the boat, but didn’t hit the water as she still had a death grip on Jem’s arm. Jem, however, was leaning over the end of the boat, and the only reason she hadn’t fallen in was because she was bracing herself as hard as she could.

Immediately everyone was behind Jem, supporting her, and pulling her (and by extension Pizzazz) away from the railing. It was an inspiring sight to see how so many people were right there to come to her aid.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” growled Pizzazz. She swung her feet up against the side of the boat and pulled as hard as she could, trying to get Jem to fall in with her before anyone could stop it from happening.

Unfortunately, the crowd had already linked tightly with Jem, so that even though only Shana and Raya were holding onto Jem, four people were holding onto Shana and Raya, and eight people were holding onto them, meaning Jem was a very supported person indeed. What ended up happening was Pizzazz wasn’t able to budge Jem an inch, and what’s more her foot slipped on the side of the boat as she tried, causing her to finally lose her grip on Jem and plunge straight into the river.

She broke the surface only a moment later, steam already coming off her red face as she shrieked in frustration. Kimber leaned forward and snapped a picture with her camera.

“I can’t believe this!” Pizzazz screeched. “This was so easy! How did you all mess it up!”

“Hey!” Roxy shouted back. “Don’t blame us for your terrible plan!”

“Someone throw me a life preserver! I’m getting out of here! I quit this lousy show!” “Fine.” Stanley was idly leaning on the railing, looking down at her as he said it.

Pizzazz blinked a few times in surprise as she treaded water. “...What?”

Stanley looked her in the eye. “You heard me. Your understudy can be ready to take your place in four minutes. Got a green wig and everything. Nobody will know the difference.”

“What? But-- you can’t-- nobody can replace me!” Pizzazz’s face got even redder. Her makeup running made her look half crazed. Someone halfheartedly tossed her a life preserver, but she was fuming so hard she barely noticed.

“Maybe not. But the show’s continuing with or without you, so goodbye, don’t let the door hit you on your way out. Oh, I guess that doesn’t matter, seeing as we’re outside. Well.

They’ll send you a check. I mean, probably.”

“Wow,” said Jem, impressed. “You seem very calm about this.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve reached a complete state of zen with my stress where I’m okay with it now. Probably because I know this will be over soon.” He pointed to the nearest stagehand.

“Could you find a dry costume for Pizzazz?”

“What about Millie?” asked the stagehand.

“Unfortunately, Pizzazz will not be dropping out of the show.”

Sure enough, as soon as Pizzazz was hauled back onto the deck, she shouted, “Someone get me a dry costume!”

“Oh, but Pizzazz,” said Stanley dryly. “You dropped out of the show, remember?”

“Come on, Misfits!” shouted Pizzazz. “We’re leaving!”

“Oh, look at that,” said Stanley as he watched her stomp away, leaving a trail of water as she went. “Congratulations, Millie, looks like you’re finishing up the show.” He clapped his hands. “All right, people. Inside. We can do this. One more act, and then I can go home and sleep for a month. Jem, no more wandering off.”

~*~

After the show, the cast was backstage laughing and talking before getting ready to head home for the night. Without the Misfits here, and only 1/3 of the Stingers, it was indeed quiet. Jem kept checking on her earring, but it didn’t seem to be giving her any more trouble either. She hardly dared to hope that she would be able to relax for a little while before the next big thing.

Jem had only just ducked into her dressing room when she heard the door open and again found herself face to face with Riot, looking as smooth as ever. “Jem, you were fantastic tonight. As you are every night, I assume.”

“Thanks,” replied Jem. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

“You should be sure to keep away from those troublemakers, though. I wouldn’t want anything unseemly to happen to you.”

“I bet you don’t.”

“Still, maybe you’d like to discuss our performances together, see if we can learn anything we can use in the future? Say... at my place?”

Jem laughed politely. “Sorry, Riot, I’m afraid I can’t. I think tomorrow I’m rearranging my schedule and booking a nice vacation for myself. After everything that’s happened, I think I deserve it.”

“You deserve everything you want and more,” said Riot. “Don’t worry. I’ll be waiting for you when you get back... and you’ll be mine then.”

“We’ll see.” Jem left her dressing room, closing the door on Riot as she did. She looked up and saw her friends waving for her to come back. ‘You know what,’ she thought to herself as she rejoined them, ‘I think after this I deserve two vacations: one for Jem, and one for Jerrica!’