The Perils of Jem

by James Lovett

(An entry in the JemCon 2022 FanFic contest)

The red-painted paddle wheel sat motionless, waiting to churn water and propel the showboat down the river. Two, tall, black smokestacks extended above the pilot house. White railings ran down the sides of the boat with black screens, and red trim added highlights around the exterior.

The Minnesota Centennial Showboat sat in port, awaiting its guests. The crew was al-ready aboard preparing for the arrivals. Arrivals which included current, pop star royalty. A tall princess with big, pink hair shimmering in the summer sunlight approached the boarding plank. She wore a yellow, sleeveless top with tight, white capri pants and a wide, black belt fastened around a slim waist by a brass, double-prong buckle. She pulled a small, wheeled suitcase behind her, and over her shoulder was a white tote bag that had Jem printed in large, pink letters on it.

The princess smiled. Tonight was the big night.

A couple of people were loitering near the boarding area. A fair-looking man, blue-eyed and clean-shaven, smiled as Jem neared. A short, red-haired woman stood next to him.

"Hi," said the man. "You're Jem, aren't you?" His smile widened, and his eyes beamed with excitement.

"Yes, I am," replied Jem energetically and flashing a warm smile. The man was an ob-vious fan.

"Oh, I hope I'm not a bother. But I really wanted to meet you. I heard you were going to be here early and… and… well, here I am." He smiled awkwardly. "Hoping to get lucky, I guess, and get an autograph."

"Why, sure."

The man's hands trembled slightly as he pulled out a picture of Jem. It was a publicity shot from the "Glitter and Gold" shoot.

"Jeez, Harry. Relax," said the redhead. She moved closer to Jem and gave her an apolo-getic smile. "Sorry. He really is a big fan. Turns into a little kid anytime the subject of you comes up."

Jem laughed lightly. "That's okay. I'm flattered." Jem had seen her share of nervous and giggling fans. Though, admittedly, they were normally kids or teenagers. She didn't run into too many thirty-something men beaming and shaking like a school child.

She sat her tote bag on the ground and took the picture of herself and a pen from Harry. Jem had to step forward a bit to take the items, moving her just out of position enough so that she didn't notice the redhead slide in close to the tote bag.

 "You know, we are doing a meet-and-greet after the show," said Jem. "You would have got an autograph either way. And, maybe, a picture taken of the two of us together, if you have a camera. I'll be wearing a nice dress."

"Oh, I'm not one of the guests. The show is a pricey affair. Like I said, just hop-" Harry's reply got cut-off by a shout.

"Jem!"

The shout was from Rio. He was hustling quickly in her direction. "Wait up."

Jem glanced back at him, then finished signing the picture. When she handed it back to Harry, he seemed surprisingly calm. Harry gave a polite smile and said, "Thank you", softly, be-fore swiftly walking off. "Come on, Harriet," he said to the redhead who had already faded off behind Jem, no longer smiling.

"Fans?" asked Rio as he caught up with Jem.

"Yeah. Harry and… Harriet, apparently." Jem paused. "A bit strange."

Rio watched the couple rapidly disappear into the distance. Strange, indeed. That red-head looked like she was hovering over Jem's bag. He couldn't be sure, but maybe, she was up to--

Jem made short, whistling sounds. "Come on." Rio turned to look at her, and she started patting the side of her leg. "Come on, boy." She had already grabbed her tote bag and with a smile took the suitcase with her other hand. "That's a good, dog."

"Dog?" Rio shot her a perplexed look. "Where did that come from?"

"Who's the one who came running through the grass chasing me like a little puppy. 'Jem! Wait up.' You looked so cute. I think I'll buy you a collar. It'll have a silver name tag with Rio engraved into it with big, pink letters." Jem smiled as she headed across the boarding plank. "A pink heart for the dot over the i, of course."

"Nice to see you think of me as a lap dog."

"No-no. Don't whine. Bad, little doggies will get a rap on the nose with a newspaper."

"Is that so?" came the sarcastic reply.

"Well, just a light rap. Bad, little technicians and tour managers, however…"

"Oh, please, don't do that, Jem. I'll howl."

"No howling."

"Arrrooooo!" Rio ran up close to Jem and, "Arroooooooed",  even louder.

Jem giggled. "All right, Rio."

Rio continued, nuzzling his head into Jem's back and whining like a dog. Jem giggled again. "Stop." But the man with purple hair didn't. Instead, he wiggled between Jem and her suit-case, causing her to let go of the handle as he popped his head out from underneath her arm.

"All right, Rio." But her smile only encouraged him. He nestled into her, whimpering. Jem laughed and stumbled a bit. "Rio, stop."

Rio let loose another, "Arroooooooo!" and started bouncing up and down.

His head was still poking out from underneath Jem's arm, and she wrapped it around his head in an effort to balance herself. The move, however, caused Rio to lose his balance, as well. He stumbled slightly, which furthered Jem's loss of balance and increased her weight on Rio. The two fell onto the deck of the showboat. Rio, not hesitating for even a beat, rolled onto his hands and knees and began panting and barking while crawling around her. Jem, red-faced and laughing loudly, half-heartedly pushed at Rio's face as his tongue wagged out of his mouth.

This was the way Pauline, the entertainment director, found them when she went to check on the commotion outside.

                                                              ***

Jem was given a small, and I do mean small room, aboard the Centennial. Showboats were not known for their luxurious, expansive living quarters. But Jem didn't care. She had not been a star for so long that her head was lost in the clouds. Jem may be a celebrity, but the Jer-rica behind the image kept her humble.

She tossed her tote bag upon the bed, not noticing it was no longer fully zipped up, and checked her face in the mirror. What for, she didn't know. Habit, probably. With Synergy, there was no need to worry about mussed hair or runny make-up. But still, she checked her clothes, which weren't holograms. The tumble to the deck of the boat, and Rio's slobbering had left them no worse for the wear. With a tug on the bottom of her shirt and a sigh, Jem headed to the theater to get coordinated for the day.

Jem had been asked to perform in a Victorian melodrama. A play aboard a showboat was not something pop stars tended to participate in. But this was to be a charity event. And charity was a magic word to Jerrica. When she was contacted to see if Jem would be interested, the young, blue-eyed record exec responded that it was a definite possibility.

The event and charity planners were able to set a date that would fit Jem's busy schedule. Since the show was for charity, and there was a limited number of seats, tickets were very high-dollar. This would be a show for the elite, but their money would go to the needy. Steal from the rich and give to the poor. The Robin Hood way. Though, Robin didn't have to perform and schmooze with his victims first. It was a safer and less violent way but definitely longer and more tiring.

Jem passed through the doors of the Centennial's jewel box theater. It seated over two hundred and had a balcony that provided a wraparound of three-quarters of the auditorium. The seats and carpet were red, and the stage was beautifully painted in Victorian-era style. The boat itself was a sternwheeler towboat originally built in 1899. It was converted and debuted as an entertainment venue in 1958. It still had its boiler and was powered by steam. Unusual for a showboat. They normally didn't have boilers, room being needed instead for the theater.

However, the Centennial stopped touring in 1969 and found itself moored on the east bank near the Coffman Memorial Union at the University of Minnesota. Tragedy, in the form of fire, torched the boat to a burned-out hull in the early dawn of the year 2000. A new ship would be commissioned, but for now, in the neon-haired days of the '80s, Jem would play a part in its history.

And she was not the only musician to be doing so.

On stage, with his normal vainglorious swagger, was one Rory Llewelyn. Better known to the world as Riot, frontman for the rock group, The Stingers.

Riot saw Jem come through the doors. She looked lovely as ever. Lovely… and still single, as ever. Jem had yet to acquiescence to be solely his. But it was only a matter of time. That was the reason for this whole charity event to begin with. It was, after all, he that suggested it. Words in the right ears, you know. Words that eventually traveled to Starlight Music. Not that Riot minded helping the unfortunate. It was good publicity if nothing else. No, this was about gaining Jem. To have her by his side. The past few weeks of rehearsals had provided ample opportunity for her to warm up to him. Jem's will was strong, but no one could resist him for-ever.

In fact, he wasn't sure how she had held out this long. Perhaps, it was because he was head-over-heels for her, and it diminished the effects of his charisma and spotlight charm. Per-haps, it was that thorn in his side, Rio. The low-rent commoner wasn't satisfied with the pe-destrian, but yet, sweet, young lady he already was dating, and frankly as far as Riot was concerned, lucky to have. No, he was trying to elevate to a class well above him. Jem was a woman someone like Rio should only dream about. For Riot, Jem was a reality he must have.

"Ah, there's the lovely, leading lady," said Riot.

"How do you do, Mr. Trafford?" replied Jem.

Trafford, one Ray Trafford, was the name of Riot's character in the play. They were to perform Under the Gaslight; a tale of two women, switched only a few, short months after their birth by a former servant who had been fired for stealing. Jem plays Laura, the child of the rich Courtland family, who through the vengeful servant's scheming, is raised in poverty as the wicked Byke's own daughter. Meanwhile, Pearl, Byke's true progeny, is raised as the Courtlands' heir.

Trafford, Riot's part, is Laura's, Jem's part, love-interest in the story. Something that af-forded great delight in Riot, and a mixture of joy and frustration in Jem. Riot's combination of charm and looks, admittedly, attracted Jem. But his condescending attitude toward others, even her sometimes, wore greatly. Still, he could be sensitive. There was depth to him. She had seen his other side. As Jem is a façade of Jerrica, Riot was the face Rory showed to the world. A face that had nearly taken over the full of his identity. Jem was a mask Jerrica took off. Rory and Riot had merged into one being.

And then there was Rio. Jerrica's love for him was absolute. But Jem's… why all these games?

The cast exchanged pleasantries, and everyone seemed excited. Pauline joined them. She, who had found Jem and Rio playing on the lower deck upon their arrival, was the one in charge of this whole affair. Though older than Jem, Pauline was roughly the same height and bore a similar round face with low cheekbones and a generous smile. According to a few others, Paul-ine had recently lost weight, and she found herself nearly as slim as Jem, too.

"Well," said Pauline, "now we just wait for our Pearl."

Pizzazz stared at the boat. Let them wait. She bore no suitcase or bag. Her walk-in closet back at the Gabor mansion was bigger than the rooms of the Centennial. Instead, she had booked a stay at a posh hotel for the night. She shook her bright, green hair, and lightly ran fingers along her jawline and over her throat. Not that he was the one that invited her, but if it was not for Riot, she would not be doing this. Her father gave more than enough money to charity for Pizzazz not to have to donate her time, if she didn't want. No. Her efforts were for the Golden God. She wanted him so much. Why didn't he like her? Even a little? Please, Riot. Like me. 

She was playing Pearl Courtland, in reality, Pearl Byke. Pearl was a young woman raised in a rich household, much like Pizzazz herself, and pining for the suitor of her adopted sister, Laura. One might note, and Pizzazz certainly had, similar to the way she pined for Riot even though his interests lie with Jem. Life imitating art, or art imitating life. Something like that. Pizzazz wasn't sure. Either way, must the universe find a way to mock her?

But she would not be upstaged. Not by Jem. Not by the universe itself. Maybe, by Riot. If he would even bother to give enough of himself to her to be upstaged. Pizzazz sighed. It might not be so bad if she didn't hate the costumes so much.

Jem's room door opened quietly, and a figure slipped inside. So foolish and trusting, thought the figure. Leaving her door unlocked. The pop princess was still in the theater, and now was the time to strike. A tote bag sat on the bed. Harry and Harriet had failed to get into it earlier. Black-gloved hands quickly pulled at the zipper and rifled through the belongings inside. Eyes turned to the small suitcase. Must be in there. The figure hoped so. She had to have something on her.

But… But… In frustration, the gloved hands dumped out the suitcase.

Nothing. No wallet. No ID or cards anywhere. The hands even checked the pockets of her clothes, just in case. Nothing. Leather-clad fingers ran smoothing strokes over a mustache as the figure posed in thought for a moment. Maybe Rio kept Jem's most private-of-effects on him for safekeeping. But, as far as the figure knew, Rio was unaware of Jem's real identity. Therefore, it was unlikely she would trust him with such things. Jerrica knew who Jem was, but she wasn't attending the play. The rest of the band also knew though, and perhaps… Yes. A certain little, naïve redhead might just be carrying what the figure wanted.

Kimber was running late. Not that she needed to be there early. She wasn't in the play. But she wanted to see the show, and she had told Jem she would be there in the morning. Though the younger Miss Benton wouldn't be doing any acting, she had written a couple of the olios, which were musical interludes in between the scenes. Normally, they would be written in keep-ing with the period the drama was set in, but given the hottest pop stars in the business were starring in the production, more than a little leeway was given.

She had help. Pizzazz wanted nothing to do with Kimber writing songs for her, so Storm-er was brought in to write a couple of pieces. Which was fine with Kimber and Stormer, it gave them a chance to hang out. Riot seemed okay with the red and blue duo, as well; his attention being far more focused on Jem. However, Minx threw a fit when she found out a Hologram and a Misfit were writing songs for Riot. So, one simple showboat production of Under a Gaslight would have songwriting credits from three different keyboardists from three different groups.

Kimber couldn't wait to see the songs performed with an audience. The show was for charity, but an extra seat was managed in the balcony just for her. However, she needed to get there first. Kimber went back to applying her make-up. She really wished sometimes an extra set of earrings could be made. Jem didn't have to work hard at all to look good.

Rio walked along the deck. He spotted Pizzazz in the distance. She was just standing there, her face unreadable, lost in thought, perhaps. When she noticed Rio looking at her, she began walking toward the boarding area. A noise caught his attention, sounding like it came from one of the rooms. But Jem was the only one he knew of that was staying on that end, and she was in the theater with the others. He decided to investigate and was approaching Jem's door when Pizzazz called out to him.

"Hey, Rio. Don't be so shy. No reason to run and hide."

There were occasions when Rio didn't mind Riot being around. And any time that pretty boy was able to distract Pizzazz was one of them. "No one is hiding, and I'm definitely not run-ning."

"Could've fooled me." Pizzazz gave that sly, confident smile of hers. "Come give me a hand."

"What for? You don't have any bags."

"Yelling back and forth is rude, and I thought you'd be a gentleman and help me across the boarding plank."

"It's wide and safe, Pizzazz."

"It's wide and safe, Pizzazz," mimicked the actual Pizzazz. "How do you make my name sound like an insult? Would it really hurt you that much to come give a lady an escort?"

"A lady indeed…" Rio mumbled under his breath. But he went to join her, anyway. When he got to the boarding area, he glanced back the way he came and saw someone hurrying in the opposite direction. Where did he come from? Then he remembered the noise from Jem's room. I need to check that out.

"Oh, Rio."

It would have to wait a minute. If something had happened, he already missed it.

"Keep your wig on. I'm coming."

"This isn't a wig," replied Pizzazz angrily.

                                                              ***

Day passed into evening, and Jem found herself in costume. Since the play was set in the 1880s, the dress silhouette featured a bustle that projected from the small of the back, high shoul-ders descending into tight sleeves, an overskirt tucked up in various ways to reveal the under-skirt, and a variety of over-decoration in the forms of ruffles, ribbons, bows, flounces, and lace. Her hair was drawn back from her face into a chignon, that is to say, a bun. And a hat sat directly atop her head. The material of the outfit was pink, of course, with trims of white and yellow. Luckily, since this was a play, neither the bustle nor bodice were as harsh as their counterparts from the nineteenth century.

The weather had deteriorated with the fair sky turning to dark clouds by strong wind. Guests had arrived and were huddling inside, some picking through the buffet that was presented in the dining area. A few others stood outside looking out over the river, wondering at the sud-denness of the storm.

Jem, overcome with a want for fresh air, stepped out herself. She heard Pauline speaking with the captain. There was concern over the approaching weather. The showboat normally re-mained moored for its shows. But since this was a special occasion, it would travel the mighty Mississippi once more. In fact, they should have already departed.

"I insist we leave now," ordered Pauline in a stern voice.

"But miss-" started the captain.

"Now," repeated Pauline, no louder than before, but with the expectance of obedience.

Apparently, Pauline was more than in charge of entertainment because the captain's eyes lowered, and his face registered defeat. He gave a slight nod then turned around and walked away.

Jem watched this with some dismay as Pauline had been nothing but sweet and generous since she had started working with her, and the captain would seem to be the appropriate person to best judge the safety of the showboat. She turned to go back inside, but she caught Pauline's eye.

"Oh, Jem!" Pauline blurted enthusiastically. "You look wonderful!"

"Thanks," replied Jem.

Pauline approached her. "Oh, just wonderful." Her hands reached out and took Jem by the shoulders. "You really are a beautiful woman."

Somehow, the Jem hologram always matched Jerrica's blush. "Thanks. You're quite pret-ty yourself."

Actually, Pauline looked a good bit like Jem. She had noticed a similarity before, but Pauline's make-up scheme currently helped to create an effective double. Plus, she had changed clothes from earlier, and the dress she was wearing looked an awful lot like one Jem had worn to an award show once.

"I see you finally took your earrings off."

"Oh," said Jem. She brought a hand up to one of her ears. "Yeah. It wouldn't look right with the costume." Though they couldn't be seen, her star earrings were still there. A little, holo-graphic magic just made it seem otherwise.

"Given what happened in your room earlier today, I hope you keep them safe. They seem to matter a lot to you."

"They do, and I assure you they are in good hands."

"Hmn. Well… We probably should head in."

Pauline and Jem continued to talk backstage. Pauline was speaking about a series she was once in. People were beginning to take their seats, and Jem peaked through the curtains to watch them. She spotted Kimber, who had arrived a little past noon. Which was a lot later than she said she would be, Jem might add. Not that it mattered. Kimber didn't need to be here, but Jem had already started to worry about her. However, her sister was not a little girl, anymore. She needed to remember that.

"Of course, the thugs were the henchmen of the main villain, Raymond Owen," Pauline continued to prattle about her former acting days.

"That's funny," said Jem. "I know a Raymond myself. In his case, it's his last name. Doesn't make him any less of a bad guy, unfortunately."

"Oh, yes," replied Pauline. "Eric. I believe I spoke with him on the phone a time or two."

"Yeah… Eric. I tell you, that Eric is…" Jem paused in surprise, eyes widening. "…is… is right here?"

As far as Jem knew, Eric wasn't attending the play. She had not heard a peep from him since the charity event had been set in motion. He seemed to have little to nothing to do with it. But there he was, in the back of the theater. No longer clean-shaven she noted. He had grown a mustache since the last time she had seen him. A mustache, and Jem really couldn't believe this, that he was currently twirling.

Eric had hoped he wouldn't have to be here. He had hired two supposed professionals, going by the aliases, Harry and Harriet, to pick Jem's pockets before she got on the boat. They failed, complaining she wasn't carrying a purse, and Rio interrupted them. Why'd they wait until she was on the verge of boarding the boat to make their strike? Professionals, my left foot, thought Eric.

So, Eric would have to handle this himself. Zipper was too sloppy, and besides, the last Eric heard, he was in jail. Luckily, Eric had purchased a ticket, just in case. Though, doing the dirty work himself nearly landed him in trouble. Rio almost busted him while he was in Jem's room going through her belongings. Thankfully, Pizzazz distracted Rio, and Eric was able to slip out. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to put Jem's stuff back. They were still strewn about the floor when Rio finally did check her room.

On top of that, it was all for naught. Eric didn't find any clues to Jem's real identity. But he had heard Kimber was going to be here. Maybe, she carried something of Jem's on her. He saw the dainty redhead enter a couple of minutes ago. Over her shoulder was a thin strap con-nected to a white purse that rested on her hip. The flap had two, large, neon stars on it. Eric couldn't tell if it was snapped or not. He wasn't a pickpocket, anyway. No. Bide his time. He only needed a minute alone with the bag.

Kimber took her seat in the balcony. They had squeezed an extra in just for her, so she knew it would be a bit cramped. However, two extra seats had been provided instead making things rather tight at her end of the row. As her eyes traveled over the crowd below and to the well-lit stage beyond, she wondered who she would be sharing so intimate of space with.

Fingers brushed her shoulder. "Excuse me."

Kimber glanced back and smiled widely. "Stormer!"

The blue-haired Misfit smiled back. "Surprise."

"I thought you weren't going to be here."

"Oh, I wanted to see the show as much as you. So curious if the audience will like our songs. So, I bugged Pizzazz for long enough that she ordered room be made for me, too."

"Outrageous!"

The two, young friends took to chatting and giggling until interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Hello, ladies." It was Eric.

"What are you doing here?" asked Kimber.

"Just popped in to say hello and to thank you for your work on the play."

"That doesn't sound like you."

"Well, you might not like me, but The Misfits are my band, and I have an invested inter-est in their well-being. Stormer included."

"Gee, thanks, Eric," Stormer said with little enthusiasm.

The lights dimmed, and Under a Gaslight began. The performance went smoothly. Jem had acted before and acquitted herself quite well. Riot came off a bit smug. Pizzazz, surprisingly, given if you had seen her performance in The Misfits movie, one of the biggest flops in recent times but destined for cult film status, held her own against Jem. Stormer watching Pizzazz from above found herself quite proud of her fellow bandmate. And she looked so beautiful in her "princess line" Victorian garb, too.

The first song began, and to Stormer's surprise, she saw a woman with long-flowing, blonde hair reaching past her waist seated at a keyboard in front of the stage. Apparently, Minx didn't want anybody playing her music either. Stormer nudged Kimber who took notice of the Stinger, as well.

The high point of the play came much later. Laura, Jem's character, who had been taken in by the Courtlands not realizing they were her real parents, is filled with much distress and de-spair. She believes Ray is ashamed of her after he finds out about her lowly background of being raised by the Bykes. She is further embarrassed when Pearl, Pizzazz's character, reveals Laura's low status to others, causing her to be snubbed by all.

There were critics who had complained that while Jem and the Holograms were capable of catchy pop songs, their image was too plastic, and they were as shallow as a teaspoon. But none of these individuals knew the depth of Jem's heart. Her voice was the tool that drew from the deep well of her soul. When she wanted, she let others drink from it. True, some of the Holo-gram songs were just trite, simple, fun songs; but they were capable of much more. And, on oc-casion, Jem proved it. Tonight was one of those occasions.

It was a solo number, Jem under the spotlight. From soft to soaring, her voice sang with the pain of Laura's anguish. Stormer had become lost in the beauty of it. She finally managed to take her watering eyes from Jem to look at Kimber. They had written the song together, and she saw a tear run down her friend's cheek. Stormer's own tears quickly followed. Kimber, for her part, thought this was the best her sister ever sounded, and she loved her all the more for it. Even Minx, not playing but nonetheless still sitting stage-side, had trouble keeping her cheeks dry.

Not all were enraptured by Jem's performance but instead used the opportunity to slip in-to the balcony while all eyes were glued to Jem. Kimber and Stormer were seated at the end, and no one noticed as Eric crept in behind them. Kimber's purse sat on the floor next to her. Eric eyed it greedily but nervously. He waited a few more moments, then made his move, easily slid-ing Kimber's purse over to him.

He quickly removed her wallet. There was cash, several store credit cards, and her driv-er's license which had a remarkably cute photo of Kimber on it, but nothing else that didn't be-long to her. Eric glanced into the purse but only saw a compact, lipstick, and keys. He put the wallet back in and closed the flap.

It was worth a shot, I guess, thought Eric.

Actually, Jem/Jerrica's ID was in the wallet. Jem, being a secret identity, didn't have any real identification, and she rarely carried a purse. When she did, it had Jerrica's wallet in it. Nor-mally, one of the Holograms, usually Kimber, carried Jerrica's license. Just in case it was needed when Jem had to make a quick transition. Kimber kept her sister's license under her own in the clear slot for it.

Eric hadn't thought, nor had the time, to check for such a contingent. Instead, he slid Kimber's purse back into place, glad to be rid of it. Though he had been called one many times before, he himself felt like a creep this time. Breaking and entering was one thing, but crawling around directly behind someone's back and stealing a purse like an opportunity thief, made Eric feel a little dirtier than normal. This was why he hired… special-employees, after all.

Eric quietly stepped out of the balcony as Jem hit her last note. Everyone erupted into ap-plause and leapt to their feet. Jem found herself humbled by the reaction. And though, due to the stage lights she couldn't see her, no one was louder or more animated than the unsuspecting Kim-ber from her balcony seat.

                                                              ***

The play finished, and the cast took their final bow. The audience seemed to have truly enjoyed the show, and the applause went on for several minutes. Jem received a standing ova-tion. The attention continued into the aftermath. The cast mingled with guests and signed au-tographs and took photos with fans. Even Kimber, Stormer, and Minx had their fair share of in-teraction, though, the three eventually took to squabbling among themselves. Minx refused to congratulate or give credit to the other two, and as usual for her, was quite dismissive.

"Thankfully Riot and I were here to save the show. Unfortunately, amateurs had been al-lowed to write a couple of the songs. I did what I could just to bring them up to mediocrity. But, alas, there is only so much even someone like me can do."

This made Kimber especially angry since she knew Jem's solo was the shining star of the entire production, and Minx had absolutely nothing to do with the creation of it.

"You're just jealous," shouted Kimber. "Jealous and insecure!"

"Jealous?" Minx's face registered shock and anger. "Of a little brat like you? Why don't you go crawl back onto Jem's coattails."

"Coattails!" As much as Kimber loved Jem, she did have feelings of jealousy and hated not being given enough credit by the press for her songwriting. "Riot is the only one with coat-tails around here, and I'm surprised he can move at all with you and Rapture sitting on them all the time."

By the time Stormer got involved, things had gotten rather loud. Rio went over to try and calm things down. Meanwhile, Jem found herself with Riot's arm around her again. It was one of several times so far tonight, and she was beginning to feel smothered. Adding to the feeling was the continuous approach of the guests. They all told her how wonderful she was. A few clasped one of her hands in between their own with tears wetting their eyes as they told her how much her song had moved them. She thanked them and made sure to point out that Kimber and Storm-er had written the song. She then would gesture in their direction. At least, she had until they be-gan arguing with Minx.

Jem appreciated the attention. She truly did. There were far worse things in the world than to be loved. And the proceeds and donations were going to a good cause. But the combi-nation of Riot, the press of the people, and three bickering keyboardists was starting to wear on her. Plus, Pizzazz's envy had reared its head. Jem actually had sympathy for the Misfits' lead singer. She did everything possible to make the show work, her performance was good, and Piz-zazz knocked all of her songs out of the park. But more people were flocking to Jem than to her, including Riot, which was the real problem.

"Why don't you get a picture of Riot and me together?" suggested Pizzazz to a fan who asked for her autograph.

"Please, Pizzazz," said Riot. "Can't you see me and Jem are having a moment? The peo-ple are really trying to get a good photo of us. Imagine their delight."

His arm slipped around Jem once more. Anger mixed with pain flashed across Pizzazz's face. To add into the mix, back from breaking up the songwriting trio's argument, came Rio. As if there wasn't an overabundance of jealousy already, the dam was about to burst.

"Why don't you try keeping your hands to yourself for a change?" Rio shot at Riot.

Jem cringed. Again, she thought. The only reason Rio was even here to begin with was that he couldn't stand the idea of how much time she would be spending with Riot. Oh, Rio said differently and gave a couple of flimsy excuses for tagging along, too. But Jem knew better.

She didn't think she had the energy left to deal with this.

Eric happened along, though, and stopped a potential fist fight by supplying another anta-gonist for Rio to direct his anger toward.

"Eric. You're here after all," said Rio.

"Yes. The label's two biggest stars are here, so why shouldn't I be here, as well?"

"Gee, thanks, Eric," a sarcastic Stormer could be heard saying in the background, given she didn't seem to be included in his concern.

"Have you been here all day?" asked Rio. "Maybe, early this morning. Swing by Jem's room to pay her a call, perhaps?"

"I don't know what you're insinuating," replied an indignant Eric. "I only arrived just this evening to attend the show."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, that's so. And now I had hoped to pay my compliments to the fine performances of this evening's stars. Even Jem."

Eric glanced at Jem and smiled. She didn't like the insincerity of it. "That mustache looks stupid," she said.

"What?" Eric was caught by surprise. But Jem didn't further elaborate on her critique.

Pizzazz, however, did. "Yeah, Eric. Hate to agree with little Miss Pom Pom here, but you look stupid with that mustache."

"Yes, Eric. I've been meaning to talk with you about that," interjected Riot. "I would like you to shave before you return to Stingers Sound."

Eric was actually hurt by all this. He really liked his mustache.

                                                               ***

Jem was finally able to break free and escape to her room. Enough picture-taking had been done, and everyone, including her, was wanting out of their costumes. She removed the Victorian garb, planning on putting on something far more comfortable. However, she couldn't find the outfit she was planning on wearing for the evening. Jem was positive she and Rio had picked everything up from earlier and packed it back into the suitcase. She only had a couple sets of clothes, so she shouldn't have missed it. But it was nowhere to be found. The door to her room had been locked this time, so she couldn't figure out what might have happened. Maybe, Rio had her outfit for some reason. She settled on the yellow top and capri pants she had been wearing upon her arrival today. It wasn't as snazzy as she was hoping for this evening, but it would have to do.

As she dressed, the showboat tossed roughly in the stormy waters. When Jem left the the-ater, she had felt the force of the wind first-hand. After checking her figure in the mirror, she decided to brave the wind and go out to the bow of the ship. With the storm clouds, the night and the river had merged into a single darkness. It was like the Centennial was lost in a moonless, midnight void with only the noise of the wind begging to differ. Jem wrapped her arms around herself, trying to enjoy what little solace the weather had provided.

Thoughts turned briefly to Eric. Normally, she tried to think of him as little as possible. Why was he here? He didn't seem truly interested in the play or even Riot and Pizzazz. She re-membered when he had burned the master tapes to her mother's music. Jem shook her head. Was there anybody worse than Eric Raymond?

"Hello, Jem," said a voice from behind, startling her.

Jem spun around. Her eyes widened in surprise and confusion. There, standing only five feet away, was… herself. Herself being Jem in the outfit she had brought to wear for tonight, a merlot-red, halter top dress with lavender feathering running down the front.

"Oh, Jem. You were so wonderful tonight. More so than I could have ever dreamed."

Jem recognized the voice. "Pauline?"

"Yes, dear?"

Besides the dress, upon Pauline's head, she wore a pink wig, cut and styled in the same fashion as Jem's hair. Likewise, her make-up was patterned in the image of Jem in full-concert mode.

"What's going on?" asked the original Jem.

"You have no idea of how much I admire you. Of how much I've longed to be you."

"I think I'm starting to get a pretty good idea."

"I love you so much. More than I thought it possible to ever love someone. But your per-formance tonight. That song you sang… no, embodied. The adulation you received. My own failed career. My sorrowful life. Please."

Jem took a couple of steps back. "Pauline… I think we need to go inside. Maybe, have a seat. Have a drink and a talk. I think it might do you some good."

"I see you have your earrings on again," continued Pauline, ignoring Jem. "May, I try them on?"

Jem's hands went reflexively to her ears. "No," she said sternly.

"You can buy imitations. I have some. But they're just not the same. They don't have that special gleam. And they obviously mean so much to you. You always wear them. Were they a gift?"

Jem stepped to the side, hoping to quickly walk around Pauline. "I really think we should go back inside. The others will start to worry."

Pauline blocked her way and stretched out her arms. "Your earrings. I really must wear them."

In the pilot house, the captain and the first mate spoke.

"Sir, these gusts of wind are increasing, and the river is waving higher. We're taking a beating."

The captain gritted his teeth. "We should have already headed back in. I'm calling it. This storm is too much, and we need to steer to port."

Jem backed away from Pauline, her arms outstretched in a halting manner. "Pauline. Please. Stop."

"Oh, Jem," Pauline shouted as she lunged at the person of her obsessive affection.

The two women struggled as the wind began to blow fiercer all around them. There was a mighty lurch as the showboat rose on a high wave and slammed back down causing Jem and Pauline to separate. The Centennial rocked again, and Jem screamed as she flew backward over the railing. Her right arm just barely managed to catch one of the bars, leaving her dangling over the deep of the Mississippi. Jem struggled to pull herself back over.

But instead, she found herself slipping.

Her ego having demanded one, Pizzazz was given her own dressing room, make-shift as it might be. She stormed out through the door of it. What's that captain's problem? Who taught him to steer a ship? She stamped off to the pilot house to give him a piece of her mind, but a flashing light caught her eye. It was coming from the bow. Pizzazz tried to ignore it, but the strobing effect was bright and steady. Curiosity piqued, she decided to brave the surrounding storm to check it out.

The light wasn't coming from the deck. It seemed to be flashing from just over the side of the showboat. Pizzazz carefully made her way over to it and gripping the top of the railing tight, peered overboard. The light flashed again, blinding her. Then suddenly—

"Help!"

The light disappeared, and below Pizzazz was Jem, who was now barely hanging onto the deck of the ship by her fingertips. The Mississippi waited below, eager to swallow her into its inky blackness.

Pizzazz's eyes popped. "Jem!"

She dropped to the deck and slid under the railing, hands shooting out and gripping Jem tightly by the wrists. Pizzazz's arms pulled and strained, a pain erupted in one of her shoulders, but she did not let go. With all the strength given to her and many a struggling grunt, Pizzazz slowly pulled Jem back onto the relative safety of the deck.

The two lay there, shaken from the experience and breathing heavily. After a minute, they both sat up, and Jem wrapped an arm around Pizzazz.

"Thank you," said Jem.

She started to shrug her off. Pizzazz's shoulder still hurt, and she required no gratitude from a Hologram. But Jem was still visibly trembling, and she held Pizzazz tight.

Pizzazz relaxed a little and said softly, "Come on, let's go." She put an arm around Jem to help lead her inside.

                                                               ***

"Does anyone know whatever happened to Pauline?" asked Kimber.

"I think she went overboard," said Jem. "Poor thing."

Jem had almost been lost, too. Luckily for her, Synergy flashed her earrings, bringing help. Currently, she was sitting inside with everyone else. Rio was beside her.

"I'm sorry, Jem. I should have been there. When the ship lurched, and I didn't see you around… I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Rio." She took his hand.

"It's all right," sneered Pizzazz. "If the men hadn't been arguing over someone they sup-posedly care about, maybe they would have been there for her when she needed them."

Rio lowered his head. Even Riot looked ashamed.

"And I noticed none of you seemed worried about where I might have been," continued Pizzazz.

"I did," said Stormer.

A guilty-feeling Rio stood up. "The crew is checking the ship over. Searching for Paul-ine. I'll think, I'll give them a hand."

"Don't go, Rio," pleaded Jem.

"It'll be okay. Kimber will stay here with you, and I'll only be gone a couple of minutes. I just want to be useful for a change."

"Rio…" But he had already turned and was walking away. Kimber joined Jem, and they sat next to one another, hand-in-hand. A member of the crew approached them.

"Any sign of Pauline?" asked Jem.

"No," he said. "And I have more bad news. The showboat is adrift."

"Why? What's happening?"

"The boiler is down. Probably shaken up by the storm. So, there's no power to the paddle wheel."

"Great," said Pizzazz. "I'm going to go try and straighten up. Fetch me when someone

competent comes along and gets us out of this mess."

Several minutes passed, but Rio still hadn't returned. Jem wondered if he was still beating himself up for not being there when she was in danger. She hoped not. Pizzazz wasn't back yet, either. But she was more than capable of taking care of herself. Kimber had wandered off in search of a bite to eat for the both of them. Riot was engaged with Minx. Feeling antsy, Jem stood up. She decided to head to her room for a minute and try to freshen up some.

When Jem stepped outside, she noticed the storm had already settled a little. It was still windy, though. She changed her mind about going to her room. Instead, she wanted to find Rio and began walking the perimeter of the showboat, hoping to run into him. Jem ventured out onto the deck at the stern of the ship. She looked at the paddle wheel sitting motionless, wondering how long before they got it going again. She was about to go back inside when she thought she heard a noise. She listened carefully, straining her ears, and… Yes. It was a strained cry.

Jem looked around the deck but didn't see anyone. She drew closer to the paddle wheel when a flash of purple hair caught her eye. It was Rio. And he was tied to one of the paddles.

"Rio," called Jem.

"Jem!" he shouted back.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I think someone hit me over the head. I came to, dazed and aching, and tied up."

"I'll go get help."

"You better hurry," spoke a woman's voice.

Jem spun around, and for the second time tonight, found Pauline standing behind her. Pauline's wig was gone, and her dress was torn. Make-up was smeared across her face like a de-ranged clown, and the smile she wore was not a friendly one. Pauline had fully snapped.

"Who are you, Jem?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know. Don't be so coy. I want to know you. The real you."

"This has gone too far. You need help."

"Do you want to help me?"

"Yes."

Pauline took a step forward. "Then tell me who you are."

"I can't do that."

"Not even for Rio?"

Jem hesitated.

"It won't take the crew long to figure out what's wrong with the boiler. And then what will become of your precious Rio?"

Jem's eyes began to water. "Please."

"Please? I did this all for you, you know. Riot thinks the benefit was his idea. But it was mine. I whispered into his ears the things he wanted to hear. He's so easily caught when the beautiful Jem is the bait. And Eric. It only took one phone conversation to get him thinking about your real identity again. It was him who trashed your room, of course. So clumsy. So useless."

Pauline smiled wide, her blue eyes flashing with mania. Fear twisted inside of Jem.

"What, or who, is Synergy?"

"Wh-What?" stuttered Jem.

"I've heard you. When you think you're alone. Synergy whispering on your lips."

Jem unconsciously raised a hand to her ear. Pauline's eyes squinted, forming lines around them. "Give me those earrings."

"No."

"Give. Me. Those. Earrings. NOW!"

Pauline charged Jem. Jem tried to dodge her and was almost successful, but a slender, quick hand caught her shirt. Jem screamed and twisted around. The shirt tore free, and Jem stum-bled backward, falling to the deck.

"Where are you running, Jem?" shouted Pauline. "There's nowhere to go. And what of Rio? Are you that selfish?"

A bolt of anger shot through Jem, and a resolution was formed. This ends now. Pauline wanted to know who Synergy was? It was time to introduce her.

The sky flashed bright with lightning, and a peal of thunder followed in its wake, muf-fling Pauline's continued threats. Nor, did Pauline hear Jem's own voice as she gave a softly-spoken request through her earrings. However, the sophisticated AI created by her father lis-tening on the other end, did hear Jem.

"Make her a star, Synergy."

The sky lit bright again, but this time, not with lightning. A spotlight shone down on Pauline. She froze in place, wide-eyed and confused. Applause began. It grew louder. And from over the rails, out of the darkness, came Jem. She was wearing a short-skirted, pink dress with a silvery, fringed, white sash around her waist. And beside that Jem, was yet another. This one in a silver jumpsuit with the zipper pulled seductively halfway down her chest.

Beside those two came a third, then a fourth, then a fifth Jem. And from the other side of the ship, yet even more, Jems appeared. There was Glitter and Gold Jem, exactly like in the pho-to Jem had signed for Harry. Next to her, a version of Jem from the Jem Jam concert. The jacket she had worn for the "Twilight in Paris" video donned another Jem. Jem from the Haven House benefit concert walked side-by-side with Jem in an outfit she had worn to a music awards show. Just behind them approached Jem in the outfit she had worn to the Oscars.

One Jem after another, shrouded in so many different fabrics and colors but all with the same voice. And all of them were saying the same thing in unison.

"One of us. One of us. One of us."

Pauline cowered in fear and panic. Her eyes shot forward, trying to find the real Jem. She was there, but she was different now. The pop star was back in her Victorian costume. Her hair, though, was not worn up but hung to her ankles. The wind seemed to catch it, and it flared all around Jem like a pink banshee. And from Jem's ears blazed ruby-red light as the Jem Star ear-rings speared through the darkness of the night.

"Am I everything you wanted?" asked Jem to Pauline. "Am I who you really want to be?"

The holograms stretched their arms out and closed in on Pauline. They fell upon her, not actually touching her of course, some of them even passing through her. The ghostly effect caused Pauline to shriek and curl into a ball with her arms covering her face and head.

This was the way the crew found her when they came to the stern of the ship. Kimber had seen the ruby light and led them to the rescue. By the time everyone got there, all the holograms were gone, and Pauline was nothing more than a blubbering mess. It took a minute for the men to get her on her feet and moving. But after much whimpering, she was finally taken away.

Two other crew members managed Rio from the paddle wheel. Jem embraced him once he was free.

"Thank goodness you're all right," said Rio.

"Me? What about you?" she replied.

"What happened? I thought I heard chanting. And then there was a strange red glow."

"It was all Pauline. She had completely lost it. Luckily, Kimber brought the others when she did."

Rio felt something more than that had happened. But he didn't want to press the issue at the moment. So, he let it go.

Jem and Rio continued to hold each other for a few seconds more. They then slackened their embrace and looked into each other's eyes. After a pause, smiles alighted their faces.

                                                                   ***

The rising sun brought the morning. The sky was pink for a long time before turning or-ange and then fading to yellow. It took a long while to get the paddle wheel going, and no sleep had been taken over the long night. A tug boat had almost been called in, but eventually, the boiler fired up, and the Minnesota Centennial was moving once more. Then there was the ques-tioning.

The captain had radioed the police. They waited at the port until the showboat arrived, and Pauline was handed over into their custody. The showdown with Jem had fractured her al-ready fragile mind. With a speedy tongue, she repeated over and over again in an almost inco-herent fashion, barely taking a breath all the while, of how Jem summoned other versions of her-self and sicced them upon her.

"Witchcraft," was the last word Jem heard Pauline say as the police put the deranged en-tertainment director into a patrol car.

No one believed her, of course. Her ramblings were just the product of a damaged men-tal state.

Jem stood with Riot near the shore of the river. As she watched the car with Pauline in it drive off, Jem noted Pizzazz exiting off the showboat.

"Riot, can you do me a favor?"

"Anything you may need or want."

"Be nice to Pizzazz."

"What?"

"At least, just once. She worked very hard on the play just to please you. And she saved my life last night. She won't take thanks from me, but it would mean so much to her if she heard it from you."

Pizzazz started to pass by them. She still looked a little disheveled. "I'm finally going back to my hotel room." Her eyes flitted away, and she mumbled under her breath. "Not that any of you care."

Riot looked to Jem, and she gave him a slight nod. "Pizzazz, wait."

Pizzazz slowly came to a halt.

"With all the excitement we've had this last night, I never got to speak with you," said Riot. He jogged over to her. "Your performance as Pearl was quite good. Simply amazing, in fact."

Pizzazz didn't respond at first. But after a couple of moments, she turned to face Riot. "Really?"

"Really." Riot put an arm around her. "Why don't you let me take you back to your ho-tel? It would be my honor."

There was another hesitation. Pizzazz looked over to Jem. Their eyes met, and Jem gave her a wink. Pizzazz's face remained impassive, but just before she turned, Jem noticed the corn-ers of Pizzazz's mouth had twitched into a smile for just the briefest of a moment.

Jem watched as Riot and Pizzazz walked off together. "You're welcome, Pizzazz. And thank you, once again, too," she whispered.

"Talking to yourself?"

Rio came to stand beside her. "It happens when there is more than one of you," said Jem.

"What?"

"Nevermind." She looked out over the Mississippi. "You should've seen the sky earlier. It wasn't red. Not really. More like a vibrant pink."

"I noticed."

Their gazes looked to the east, to the still-rising sun. The yellow was almost gone, turning white while the sky stretching above them was spreading blue.

"It's so beautiful," said Jem.

"It sure is," replied Rio.

From behind them, a sharp German accent breached the peace. "Stupid Americans!"

Jem sighed.

"Who you calling stupid?" responded a girlish voice Jem had known all her life.

"You're so stupid, you don't even know that I'm calling you stupid," spat the German ac-cent of Minx again.

The waters of the Mississippi rippled calmly. "It's hard to believe there was a storm last night," observed Jem.

"You leave her alone," ordered Stormer.

"Yeah, hard to believe," said Rio.

"Oh, the blue-haired mouse finally squeaks," insulted Minx.

"I wish we had some time to explore," said Jem.

"That would be nice," replied Rio.

"You only have half the talent Stormer does," defended Kimber.

"Wasn't there supposed to be a second performance, tonight?" asked Rio.

"You two wish you could produce the wonderful tones, as I do, upon a keyboard," shot back Minx.

Jem put an arm around Rio. "I think, in the least, the show will have to be postponed."

The squabbling behind them continued to grow more heated.

"Should we go break them up?" asked Rio.

"No. It can wait," said Jem. "The sun is almost fully up now. Give it a couple of more mi-nutes."

And so, Jem and Rio stared into the eastern sky as Kimber, Stormer, and Minx continued their quarrel. The mixture of beauty and strife, Jem felt, greatly mirrored her own life. And with that thought came the realization that with the dawning of this new day, might come a new ad-venture.

Jem smiled, willing and waiting to embrace whatever may come.

                                                         THE END