

### Rockstar Ghost

### By KuroKoneko Kamen

Copyright 2013 by KuroKoneko Kamen

Cover Design by Kyoux

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

### Chapter 1: I Wanna Be Sedated

"My life is cursed." Rosalie Galloway muttered softly to herself as she tried to pull her tattered jacket closer around her body. The zipper was fucked up and she couldn't even close it properly. It was freezing on the bus that she was taking to Good Samaritan Hospital. She looked out the window and saw the Autumn-colored orange, yellow, and red leaves on the trees flash by, but it was hard to enjoy the sight when she was freezing her ass off.

She kept her head lowered and peered at the other people that were riding the bus with her through her bangs in a hesitant manner. Rosalie had social anxiety. Crowds of people she didn't know terrified her, and even though she had studied the psychology behind her condition she was still unable to overcome it. She had also tried reading several Self Help books on the subject, but nothing seemed to work.

Rosalie was envious of the people who were riding the bus with her. Not only did they appear to have nicer jackets than hers, but also appeared to have jobs. She could tell that they were all on their way to work because they were smartly dressed and with suitcases in their hands. Rosalie hoped to be like them soon - employed.

Unfortunately the chances of Rosalie getting a job were pretty slim. She was already on her fifteenth job interview. She just hoped that during this one she wouldn't throw up from nerves. Rosalie had miraculously managed to get a college degree from Biola University where she had been participating in their nursing program. After that she applied to the state and got her nurse's license. Now came the tricky part of getting hired as a nurse by a hospital.

She'd applied to several hospitals already and they had seemed pretty interested in Rosalie - that is until they met the gloomy girl in person. Rosalie turned to stare at her homely reflection in the bus window. She had managed to tame her wild, curly, black hair into a tight ponytail as best she could. Rosalie had her round, nerdy glasses on her face and was wearing her usual 'job hunting outfit' which consisted of a plain, white blouse, black jacket, knee length skirt, and a pair of scuffed, low-heeled, black leather shoes.

She supposed she might be able to look a little more presentable if she got some contact lenses, but there was a very good reason why Rosalie chose to wear glasses. Just thinking about it made Rosalie push her glasses further up her nose. From as far back as Rosalie could remember...she had the ability to see ghosts. This had been extremely hard to deal with growing up, but in middle school she discovered that the simple action of wearing a pair of glasses somehow enabled her to block out the sight of ghosts. As long as she didn't make eye contact with any ghosts they usually left her alone, so wearing glasses became her first real defense against them.

Rosalie let out a disappointed sigh before finally shrugging. She just hoped she looked presentable. The bus conveniently stopped only a few blocks away from Good Samaritan Hospital. Rosalie got off the bus and walked the rest of the way to the hospital with dragging steps. The hospital would be _filled_ with ghosts. She dreaded going there but she had no choice. Her dream was to become a nurse, so she'd just have to deal with it. She adjusted her glasses higher up on her nose with one hand. She hoped she wouldn't be able to see any of them. She shuddered, a chill crawling up her spine. _Why me?_

She was familiar with the bus route and the hospital because her father Edgar Galloway was a live-in patient there. Just before Rosalie entered high school, Edgar had been diagnosed with cancer by their family doctor, Dr. Cole. This was one of the main reasons why Rosalie had decided to become a nurse. She wanted to help take care of her father and earn enough money to provide him with better medications and chemotherapy treatments. Thus, being a nurse had become her dream.

Rosalie stopped in front of Good Samaritan Hospital for a moment to steel her nerves. It was a modern hospital building with a large front lawn that patients could use to get some exercise or enjoy during lunch. The many flower boxes were currently empty since it was already mid-Fall. The tall trees that were on the lawn were pretty to look at since the hue of their leaves had changed to mixtures of red, yellow and orange.

Rosalie made her way past the automatic sliding doors. Her interview was being held on the sixth floor, so Rosalie made her way to the elevator. Pressing the elevator summoning button, she tried to ignore all of the people standing around her and who were also waiting for the elevator to arrive. If she looked at them too closely she would probably discover that not all of them were _alive_.

The elevator arrived and Rosalie stepped inside along with several other people. She pressed the button for the sixth floor. Rosalie kept her head down, letting her bangs shadow her eyes and expression, and tried not to make eye contact with anyone.

The men and women - patients, doctors, nurses and visitors - were so close to her. She could feel their eyes upon her, feel their judging stares. She felt herself shrinking inside of the elevator. All the people around her seemed to be growing taller until they were towering over her like Titans. The elevator felt like it was shrinking next. Rosalie sensed herself getting claustrophobic as the walls began to close in around her. Her chest felt constricted. It was getting harder to breath...

And then the elevator door opened upon her floor and Rosalie rushed out. She realized that on her way out she had knocked into the shoulder of the man, who had been standing next to her, and turned around to quickly apologize. "S-Sorry-" Rosalie started as she turned around to look at the man. Rosalie's voice caught in her throat. The young African American man had a purple t-shirt on that was covered in red splotches that Rosalie realized were blood. The man had been shot multiple times from the looks of it. Rosalie turned back around and ran from the elevator. She took a deep, steadying breath and put a hand to her chest. Her heart was beating a mile a minute.

She looked up and spotted the reception desk. A pretty blonde nurse was seated behind the desk and giving Rosalie a curious look. The medium straightened her back and forced a smile on her face. Unfortunately, it was a Wednesday Adam's smile. The nurse shuddered at the creepy smile. "What a gloomy girl..." The nurse muttered to herself.

Rosalie approached the reception desk and greeted the nurse. "Hi. I'm Rosalie Galloway. I'm here for a nursing interview with the Chief of Nursing at three o'clock."

The nurse nodded. "You're not the only one being interviewed for the nurse's position today. Please have a seat. I'll call your name when the Chief of Nursing is ready to see you." The receptionist explained.

Rosalie nodded and turned to face the waiting area. A series of blue vinyl couches were situated around the area and several young ladies around Rosalie's age were seated while waiting for their chance to get interviewed. Rosalie figured they were also college graduates. Because of the recession job hunting had become extremely competitive with people around Rosalie's age due to the lack of jobs available.

Rosalie had never really been good at dealing with people her own age, and so keeping her head down, she tremulously made her way to sit down on one of the empty couches. She clasped her hands nervously in her lap as she sat down and peeked at the other girls through her bangs shyly.

The prospective nurses were all so different from her. The other young women all had blonde or highlighted hair that had been cut into stylish and trendy haircuts, dazzling white teeth, and perfect skin that was complimented by their artfully applied makeup. They were wearing the latest in designer fashion from _Prada_ , _Armani_ and _Dior_. They had manicures and pedicures. They were also wearing three-inch or four-inch designer shoes. Rosalie recognized the distinctive red soles of a pair of _Christian Louboutins_. The young women also clutched expensive, designer handbags from brands like: _Louis Vuitton_ , _Gucci_ and _Prada_ in their laps.

Rosalie became very self-conscious about her plain, job-hunting outfit - particularly her scuffed-up leather shoes. She frowned morosely; this outfit was the best one she owned. At home she usually wore a pair of comfy jeans or sweatpants, and a baggy t-shirt. Rosalie had always cut her hair herself and she'd never gotten a manicure or pedicure before either.

The young women - typical rich Beverly Hills beauties - were chatting enthusiastically amongst themselves, already having formed little 'clicks'. They began to laugh and Rosalie flinched self-consciously, wondering if they were laughing at her.

For some reason Rosalie was remembering a time from high school when her fellow classmates had ganged up on her and started throwing raw eggs at her. Then they had thrown a bag of flour over her head afterwards to complete their prank. Rosalie had just stood there and hadn't really done anything. She remembered them laughing at her and calling her names like 'nerd' and 'freak'. Rosalie supposed it had been better than being tarred and feathered like in medieval times.

Because of Edgar's diagnosis he had been forced to quit his several part-time jobs just as Rosalie was entering high school. In order to still be able to handle paying the tuition Rosalie had been forced to get a secret part-time job. She also realized that because of her family's new dire financial situation that there was no way she'd be able to go to college unless she was able to get a scholarship. And in order to get a scholarship her grades would have to be exemplary.

In order to get straight As, Rosalie concentrated all of her effort into studying giving Rosalie no time for making friends. She didn't talk to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary and her voice grew rusty with disuse. Sometimes she began to find it difficult to form even simple sentences when talking to someone and her sentences were disjointed. On paper though Rosalie was very eloquent.

_I don't have time for friends. I don't need them. I need to study._ Rosalie thought constantly to herself. Because Rosalie could see ghosts it was hard for her to act 'normal'. When a ghost would suddenly pop up out of nowhere Rosalie would jump and have to stifle a scream. When the people around her noticed her odd behavior or caught her 'talking to herself' they began to treat her differently.

Her classmates called her silly names like 'nerd', 'study bug', and 'Wednesday' after the creepy little girl from the old TV show _The Adam's Family_. Rosalie did her best to just ignore her cruel classmates, and to block everything out.

That's how Rosalie discovered punk rock. One day, she found a discarded MP3 player in the trash at school and listened to the songs that were on it out of pure curiosity. They had all been punk rock songs from bands like: _Television_ , _Ramones_ , _Sex Pistols_ , _Green Day_ , _Offspring_ , _Bad Religion,_ and _The Clash_. The loud, passionate, controversial music was perfect for blocking things out and even seemed to keep the ghosts away!

She grew used to people bullying her, talking about her behind her back, and pointing at her as she passed them by. She supposed they treated her differently because she just wasn't 'normal'.

What was 'normal' though? Rosalie knew she looked different from the other girls at her high school, who all seemed to be incredibly concerned with their appearances. Rosalie's fellow classmates would spend hours on their hair and makeup. It was during high school that teenaged girls learned how to get their hair cut and dyed, how to always keep it clean and not oily, how to wear makeup in order to have flawless complexions, how to wear flattering clothes for their body types, how to get their nails done, and how to wax their eyebrows.

Rosalie didn't really see the point of going to all that trouble, and it only seemed to prove one thing to her: beauty was an _illusion_.

Most of the other teenaged girls had mothers who had helped their daughters learn all of these things, but...not Rosalie.

The Galloways had never been a rich family, but when Edgar and Belladonna had first gotten married they had owned a small house in the better part of the ghetto of Los Angeles. At the time, Edgar owned a hardware store, and it had been successful. But six years later when the recession hit and a _Wallmart_ opened up a just a few blocks away from Edgar's store it drove his place out of business. The recession caused many _Mom and Pop_ stores to go out of business around the same time. The Galloways had been forced to sell their home in order to pay off their debts.

The Galloways then moved to a small apartment, but after a while Belladonna had had enough. She abandoned her husband and six-year-old daughter, and ran off to be with her new lover, who was rumored to have a mansion in Beverly Hills and had connections to the mafia. After that Rosalie had never seen nor heard from her mother again.

After the divorce, Edgar had done his best to raise Rosalie all on his own as a single father. But it had been hard. Edgar had taken several part-time jobs in construction so that they could get by. Rosalie ended up learning how to cook and clean in order to help support her father. But growing up without a mother had been difficult on Rosalie and she noticed her mother's absence most keenly in high school.

Edgar wasn't home much and was always working. He got injured a lot and Rosalie often accompanied her father to Good Samaritan Hospital where Dr. Kip Cole - a friend of her family - would see to Edgar's wounds. The Galloways had gotten to know Dr. Cole when Belladonna's younger sister, Rosalie's aunt, Freya, needed heart surgery. Dr. Cole had performed the surgery that had saved Freya's life inserting an artificial heart into her body successfully. However, a few years after the surgery the heart began to fail and Dr. Cole had to perform the surgery a second time. During that particular surgery Dr. Cole failed to save Freya, but the Galloways didn't hold that against him. He had given them 'borrowed time' with Freya already.

Dr. Cole had always been very kind to Rosalie. Anytime she had accompanied her father to get his construction related injuries checked out, Dr. Cole had given Rosalie a lollipop and a pat on her head. Dr. Cole was an exceptionally talented surgeon at such a young age. He was only ten years older than Rosalie. He was also very handsome with raven-black hair that he usually wore slicked back, deep sapphire colored eyes, very pale skin and a tall physique. He usually wore a pair of stylish, rectangular glasses on his face and his long white lab coat billowed out behind him as he walked. He could have made a living as a model instead of a doctor.

Rosalie had a crush on Dr. Cole since she was twelve-years-old. She eve entertained herself with the daydream of growing up and becoming Dr. Cole's bride. She hoped that she'd get to run into him while she was there at Good Samaritan Hospital for her interview, but Rosalie was so shy she didn't know if she'd be able to find the courage to even say 'hello'.

***

"Ahahaha!" The young women continued to laugh and Rosalie felt herself shrinking. Her chest constricted. It was getting harder to breath again. She tried to take deep, calming breaths and counted slowly in her head. _One...two...three...four...five._ She had read that this helped with anxiety.

"Rosalie Galloway! Rosalie Galloway!" Came the receptionist's call.

"Uh, yes!" Rosalie stood up awkwardly. _I can do this._

"The Chief of Nursing will see you now. Please go in through there." The nurse waved her hand towards the door of the Chief of Nursing's office.

Rosalie nodded. "Thank you." She made her way to the door while still looking down at her scuffed shoes. Taking a deep breath she opened the door and entered the office, closing the door behind her. Seated behind a desk was a young male doctor who was currently finishing up some paper work. As Rosalie entered his office and approached his desk he didn't bother to look up from what he was doing.

"Please take a seat Miss...?" The doctor was saying in a bored tone.

"Um, Rosalie Galloway, Sir." Rosalie said softly.

"Rosalie?" The doctor looked up and his eyes widened behind his rectangular shaped glasses. An intrigued smile curled his lips. "Little Rosalie? Is that really you? Why, you're all grown up now, aren't you?" Dr. Cole joked, as he looked her over with a surprised look on his face.

Rosalie was not an ugly woman - just somewhat plain and gloomy. She had unusually beautiful eyes that she had gotten from her mother. Her irises were a rare ice-blue color with a ring of dark blue around them. Rosalie had extremely pale skin that was almost a ghostly white. She was tall at 5'6" and only weighed one hundred and ten pounds. She had size C-cup breasts.

Rosalie looked up and met Dr. Cole's curious and intense stare. She blinked. "Dr. Cole? You're the Chief of Nursing? But...you're so young..."

Dr. Cole chuckled and ran a hand back through his hair in a careless gesture. "I'm actually the Chief of Medicine too. I've been working hard these past few years. It's been a while, Rosalie. I haven't seen you for four years. It was like you just disappeared..." A pensive frown formed on Dr. Cole's handsome face.

"Ah, I went to college. Biola University." Rosalie quickly explained in her low voice. Biola University in La Mirada, Los Angeles was a private interdenominational Christian college that had offered a bachelor of science in nursing. While attending, Rosalie had taken coursework in psychology, statistics, family nursing, mental health, childbearing nursing, gerontology, critical care, community nursing, leadership and management.

During her stay at Biola University Rosalie had shared a room with a girl named Chastity, who ironically had been a complete slut. Every night Chastity snuck a different boyfriend into the dorm room to have sex with. At first, Rosalie thought about telling on her dorm mate, but had decided instead to just ignore it. Rosalie had more important things to worry about such as her grades and keeping her scholarship than Chastity's sex life.

It was not unusual for her roommate to be fucking her latest boy toy in the bed next to hers while Rosalie was sitting at her computer desk with the headphones from her old MP3 player stuck in her ears while she listened to punk rock at the loudest volume possible in order to drown out the disgusting sex sounds.

" _Oh yes! Yes! Yes!" Chastity had been very vocal, Rosalie recalled._

" _Damn Chastity...I'm going to...!" Her current lover would groan as he approached his climax._

" _Oh...Mark!"_

" _Hey! My name is Matt!"_

" _Oh Mark...you're amazing! Mark!"_

" _Whatever..."_

Her roommate had also been a bit of an airhead. Rosalie supposed she would just file the experience away under something like 'sex education'.

Rosalie had been able to block out the world with punk rock music and that's how she discovered one her now favorite bands: _Erotic Corpses_. She really liked the lead singer's voice. Even when he was yelling lyrics his voice had a calming effect on Rosalie. The lead singer's name was Blake White. Blake was a famous punk rockstar and there were few in America who didn't know his name. He had a unique, sexy, raspy voice.

Dr. Cole looked down at Rosalie's resume. "I see...your father must have missed you terribly. You didn't even visit him...four years..." Dr. Cole chided her.

Rosalie cringed, feeling guilty. "Yea..." Rosalie and her father were both very introverted people. When Rosalie had visited her father during high school they hadn't spoken very much. Rosalie would usually take Edgar outside the hospital to enjoy the front lawn so that he could gaze at the flowers there.

Edgar had always been bad at expressing his emotions and sadly Belladonna had been unable to understand that. Belladonna assumed Edgar didn't love her because he had never expressed his feelings aloud. This was far from the truth, however. Edgar had been madly in love with Belladonna. He had wanted to give her everything, and to cherish her always. He had loved her more than his own life.

But Belladonna had no way of knowing this, and feeling unloved she had found solace in the arms of another. This had completely broken Edgar's heart. It was one of his biggest regrets that he had been unable to tell the one he loved how much he loved her.

" _Rosalie...if you ever find someone you can't live without. Make sure you tell him. No matter how much you feel something in your heart, if you don't convey your feelings to that person it becomes meaningless." Edgar had told Rosalie with a wistful sigh. "If only I had been braver...maybe your mother would still be with us."_

Dr. Cole was looking at Rosalie intently and waved a hand at the armchair in front of his desk. "Please take a seat."

"Um, yes, Sir." Rosalie quickly sat down and put her hands in her lap. She tried very hard not to fidget.

"So, tell me Miss Galloway, in your own words, why you wish to be a nurse here at Good Samaritan Hospital?" Dr. Cole steepled his long fingers before him and watched Rosalie curiously.

Rosalie realized that the interview had finally begun! She was so nervous! She gripped her trembling hands in her lap.

Dr. Cole chuckled dryly at her obvious nervousness. "Just pretend you're talking to a friend if that makes you feel better, Miss Galloway. There's no need to be nervous...it's just me." He gave her a warm, reassuring smile.

_He has a nice smile._ Rosalie took a deep breath. Easier said than done. She didn't have any friends. "I want to become a nurse because I want to help people...I've wanted to become a nurse ever since my father was diagnosed with cancer. In fact, Dr. Cole it was you who suggested I should become a nurse. To be a nurse here at Good Samaritan Hospital would be ideal because my father is also here. I want to work hard and earn money so I can provide my father with better medication and chemotherapy."

"I see." Dr. Cole nodded, "I remember telling you that Rosalie. You listened to me. That's a very good girl. You've worked hard...I think I'll give you a chance."

Rosalie looked at Dr. Cole wide-eyed. "R-Really?"

Dr. Cole's deep sapphire-colored eyes sparkled. "Yes, welcome to Good Samaritan Hospital, Nurse Galloway. Congratulations." Dr. Cole stood up and offered his hand to Rosalie.

Rosalie nervously stood up and reached out to take Dr. Cole's hand. His fingers were smooth, warm, and strong. He had a comforting handshake.

_Maybe my bad luck has finally changed._ A small crooked smile formed on her lips.

However, as she leaned forward to take Dr. Cole's hand, her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose slightly and she caught sight of a woman standing behind Dr. Cole's desk. The woman, who was standing there silently, was beautiful. She had long, black, wavy hair that reached the middle of her back, pale skin, and ice-blue eyes. She was wearing a flowing, pale-blue, silk dress that seemed to be floating around the woman eerily. The woman's form was semi-transparent.

She was a ghost.

The woman was dead.

Rosalie noticed that there was a gaping hole in the ghost lady's chest where her heart should have been. Black blood oozed out of her wound and down the front of her lovely dress. The ghost was crying black blood tears and looking at Dr. Cole forlornly. Rosalie's blood ran cold at the sight of the unusual looking ghost.

For a moment, Rosalie didn't recognize the ghost and then her eyes widened. She had to bite down on her lower lip to keep herself from crying out: 'Aunt Freya!?'

Was the ghost of Aunt Freya angry with Dr. Cole for having failed to save her a second time? Rosalie frowned. That didn't make any sense. What could Aunt Freya be regretting? She was sure that Dr. Cole had done his best. She remembered how much Dr. Cole had cried at Freya's funeral. Rosalie looked at Freya's face - the ghost's expression was sad, not angry. Rosalie shook her head and readjusted her glasses farther up her nose.

Rosalie was alive. She had nothing to do with the dead. And they had nothing to do with her. She would continue to ignore them.

"I...thank you very much, Dr. Cole. I won't let you down. I'll work my hardest not to disappoint you." Rosalie stammered.

Dr. Cole chuckled at Rosalie's stammer. "Don't worry. I know. You've always been such a hardworking, little girl. Though I suppose you're a young lady now. How time does fly." Dr. Cole looked down at Rosalie's hands as he said this.

Rosalie followed his gaze and looked down at her hands. Her nails were cut short and unpainted, and there were even a few scars on her hands from when she had been learning how to cook at the age of six.

Rosalie blushed and self-consciously hid her hands behind her back. She had seen the hands of those other young women in the waiting room. They all had perfectly manicured nails with designs on them like little palm trees, hearts and even smiley faces.

Dr. Cole chuckled. His laugh was melodic. "Don't be embarrassed about your hands. I think your hands are more appropriate for a nurse than the hands of those girls sitting in my waiting room. This is a hospital, Rosalie. Not a modeling agency. This isn't a beauty competition!"

_This isn't a beauty competition._ For some reason those words stung. But Rosalie knew she was homey when compared to those pretty, fashionable blondes sitting in the waiting room. Rosalie nodded instead. "Right, Dr. Cole."

Dr. Cole grinned charmingly revealing his pearly white teeth. "I look forward to working with you, Rosalie."

Rosalie smiled back tremulously. "Uh, m-me too...Dr. Cole..."

***

Rosalie left Good Samaritan Hospital in surprisingly high spirits. If she were any other girl and less reserved, she probably would have been skipping down the street. Rosalie decided to splurge on the ingredients for lasagna. Using the last of her pocket money to buy the ingredients at a grocery store that was just a few blocks away from where she lived she purchased a half a pound of ground beef, one container of ricotta cheese, a package of fresh parsley, one jar of spaghetti sauce, one box of lasagna pasta noodles, one bottle of _Kraft_ Parmesan cheese, one onion and one green pepper.

After Rosalie paid for her purchases at the checkout counter, she hurried home, hoping to get back before dark since her apartment was in the hood. Rosalie safely made it to the rundown apartment building where she and her father had lived most of her life, and went inside. The elevator was 'out of order' as usual, and so she took the stairs up to her apartment on the fifth floor, apartment number 503.

Rosalie took out her key, opened her apartment door, and balanced her grocery bags as she went inside. "Honeys, I'm home!" Rosalie called out softly.

"Meeowwww!" Rosalie's five black cats immediately rushed out to greet the gloomy girl. Their names were: Lucky, Spottie, Luna, Dulce, and Percy. Black cats were supposed to be able to see ghosts and keep malevolent spirits at bay. That's why Edgar Galloway had gifted Rosalie with a black kitten on her second birthday and then for four more birthdays after that.

Lucky was the smartest cat of the bunch and the 'Leader'. He would steal sandwiches off the kitchen island when Rosalie wasn't looking and usually led the general mayhem her cats caused. Percy was a grumpy cat and made funny noises when Rosalie tried to pick him up and pet him. Spottie and Luna were curious, mischievous female cats that ended up in the strangest places. Rosalie was always having to get them out of vases or out from behind the refrigerator when they seemed to get stuck back there. Dulce was a sweet, lazy female cat who would usually just find a nice place to perch and watch the other cats as they caused chaos in Rosalie's tiny apartment with a look of disbelief on her furry face which seemed to say: 'You guys are crazy'.

Between her father's medical bills, the rent bill, utility bills, and the amount of food five black cats consumed, Rosalie didn't have much money left over for herself. She barely had the money for food, let alone the money to buy herself new clothes or makeup like the young women Rosalie had seen at the hospital.

Lucky, Spottie and Luna greeted Rosalie while Dulce was content to watch the commotion from her perch on the arm of a gray, threadbare sofa that used to be purple. And Percy was a little more 'prickly' than the other cats and so kept his distance from his place beneath the sofa, his green eyes glowing.

"I bet you're hungry." Rosalie declared as she bent down and scratched Lucky behind his ears. "Well, you're in for a treat tonight. I'm making lasagna." Rosalie declared happily. "Tonight we're going to celebrate that I got a job! I'm going to be working as a nurse at Good Samaritan Hospital where father is. My dream has come true." Rosalie put the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and went to go change out of her best outfit into some more normal 'house clothes'.

Rosalie changed into a pair of baggy sweatpants, a clean t-shirt with the phrase: 'I (heart) cats' on it, and a pair of old tennis shoes. She went back into the living room/kitchen area only to discover that the mischievous Lucky had ripped open all of the grocery bags in search of the ground beef!

Lucky had actually managed to find the package of ground beef and was currently pulling it out of one of the grocery bags with his teeth while Spottie and Luna watched close by. Dulce remained unmoved on her perch on the sofa and Percy was still hiding under the sofa with a hungry glint in his eyes.

"Lucky! No!" Rosalie cried out as she ran towards Lucky. Lucky immediately pulled the package of beef all the way out of the grocery bag and took off running while dragging the package of beef with him. "Lucky! You give that beef back right now! You bad cat!" Rosalie exclaimed as she pounced on Lucky and pinned the cat to the floor. Rosalie pried the package out of Lucky's mouth and shook her head at her naughty cat. "Lucky, you're so bad. But I love you."

Lucky blinked at Rosalie innocently as if he didn't know he had done anything wrong. A small golden halo shimmered over Lucky's head.

"At least wait until the lasagna is finished...geez..." Rosalie complained as she got up off the floor. After Rosalie had gathered up all of the spilled and scattered ingredients, she put a pot of water to boil on the stove. She skillfully chopped an onion and green pepper into tiny cubes, got out a frying pan, and rinsed the ground beef with water before adding the ingredients together.

She cooked the ingredients for twenty minutes and added some seasoning. Once the water in the pot had come to a boil she added her lasagna pasta and got out her casserole. Once the pasta was cooked in about fifteen minutes, she drained it. She then added the entire jar of spaghetti sauce to the beef and vegetables in the pan and stirred with her wooden spoon.

After the ingredients were ready Rosalie put the lasagna together, alternating layers of pasta with sauce and ricotta cheese, and put it in the oven. Rosalie put the pan of lasagna into the preheated oven and let it cook for twenty minutes. She took the lasagna out to cool and then she served six plates of lasagna. She set the plates out on the small round table that was in the living room area.

Lucky, Spottie, Luna, Percy, and Dulce all jumped up onto the table to eat the lasagna with Rosalie. The medium smiled as she watched her five cats devour the lasagna. "You guys really are worse than Garfield." She laughed softly before taking a bite of her lasagna. She grinned. She hadn't had _real_ food in such a long time.

Lately, Rosalie had been living off of sandwiches and instant noodle soups since those were cheap food items. But this was the beginning of a new chapter in Rosalie's life. She was about to start living her dream as a nurse and would begin to save up the money she needed to provide her father with better care so that he could fight the cancer. _Things are finally looking up._

After Rosalie and the cats finished dinner, the medium stood up and got ready to do the dishes. But first, Rosalie put a CD into her boom box and pressed the play button. The band _Erotic Corpses_ and their lead singer Blake White began to fill her apartment with thumping punk rock music. Rosalie pulled her unruly hair into a bun on the very top of her head, and tied an apron around her waist. It was time to wash some dishes!

Rosalie piled the six dishes on top of each other and brought them over to the sink where she began to wash them. She then began to sing along to Blake's latest song _Zombie Awakening_ in a completely tone deaf voice. "Thank God, I'm alive! Thank Buddha, I'm alive! Thank Allah, I'm alive! Thank Satan, I'm alive! I'm alive! Oh yea! Alive! I'm back from hell!" Rosalie had _no_ musical talent. But she had fun singing rock songs. She found the experience very de-stressing. And it was the loudest her soft voice _ever_ got!

Oddly enough, her father was the same way. One time when Edgar had taken Rosalie to a bar to sing karaoke Edgar had surprised her by just how loud he had been able to sing.

Rosalie loved Blake White, er, his voice. He was her favorite punk rock artist. She loved his unique, sexy, raspy voice. She didn't even know what he looked like. Rosalie had never actually bothered to get a band poster and she didn't have Internet access to look him up online. Rosalie had no friends that she could ask to let her borrow their computer or smart phone to check out Blake White's photo either. Maybe at the hospital Rosalie would finally be able to make some friends, she hoped.

After Rosalie was done with the dishes she decided to clean her whole apartment. Rosalie always kept everything in her apartment incredibly neat and tidy. She was a bit of a neat freak. Back at Biola University she had found herself cleaning up after her roommate Chastity without being asked. Rosalie swept, mopped, did her laundry, and dusted - all the while listening to Blake and singing into her mop or broom.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Rosalie heard a few gunshots go off, but this was a normal occurrence in the hood.

She didn't even flinch.

It wasn't that Rosalie wasn't afraid...it was more that Rosalie was very good at just blocking things out. She didn't hear what she didn't want to hear. She didn't see what she didn't want to see. This way nothing bothered her.

After Rosalie was done cleaning her tiny apartment, she took a shower and got ready for bed. She decided that she would read a little bit before bed since she wasn't very sleepy. Rosalie loved to read. It was her only real escape from her drab, lonely reality.

Rosalie lay down in bed and opened the book she was currently reading: _Homeland_ by R.A. Salvatore. This was the first book in a trilogy known as the _Dark Elf Trilogy_. It was the story of a dark elf named Drizzt Do'Urden, who didn't fit in with the other _evil_ dark elves that lived in the underground city called Menzoberranzan. Drizzt possessed principles, morals and a kind heart, and this alienated him from his fellow dark elves.

Because his way of thinking was so different from the evil, self-serving dark elves - Drizzt was _alone_. Always alone.

Rosalie could relate to the heavy feeling of loneliness that Drizzt had felt during his younger days in Menzoberranzan. She tried to ignore it but her loneliness weighed down upon her shoulders like a heavy yet invisible mantle.

She was alone and all on her own. Her father was in the hospital, hanging onto life by a single weak thread. She had no friends and no one to depend on or talk to but...

Rosalie had always been alone. She didn't need anyone and probably never would. She'd be okay in the end. Or at least this is what Rosalie tried to tell herself.

Even so, Rosalie couldn't help but think that it might be nice to make friends at her new job. Maybe she'd be able to make friends with her fellow nurses that would be working under Dr. Cole.

Then, perhaps, she wouldn't be as alone as the dark elf Drizzt Do'Urden.

_Friends..._ Rosalie mused and Dr. Cole's handsome face swam in her mind. _Dr. Cole has a really nice smile._ Rosalie thought to herself dreamily, bringing her covers up to her chin to hide her silly smile before she drifted off to sleep. _I hope we can be friends._

***

The following day, Rosalie was scheduled to start working as a nurse at Good Samaritan Hospital. Rosalie took the bus early that morning, arrived at the hospital and quickly made her way to the sixth floor. Once she stepped out of the elevator she was immediately greeted by a nurse with a short bob of platinum blonde hair and a nametag which read: _Tiffany_.

"Hi, you must be Rosalie. I'm Tiffany. Here's your uniform." Tiffany wasted no time in handing Rosalie her new nurse's uniform. Rosalie didn't mind having to wear a uniform since it meant she wouldn't have to buy new clothes and it wasn't like she could have afforded to buy nice clothes anyways. "Follow me so I can introduce you to the other nurses that work on this floor." Without waiting for a response, Tiffany turned on her heel and led Rosalie to one of the lounge areas where some of the other nurses were taking a break.

"Like this is Rosalie. She's like new." Tiffany introduced her to the other nurses, but...was it just her paranoid imagination or were the other nurses glaring at her and giving her antagonistic looks? Rosalie swallowed nervously.

Rosalie went through basic nurse's training quickly since she was a fast learner. She was able to start helping out with patients right away, and it didn't take long for her to get assigned to take care of her father.

Edgar's dull, gray eyes went wide when he saw his daughter, Rosalie, dressed as a nurse walk into his room! Surprised and proud, he smiled. Rosalie's hard work had paid off, as he knew it would. Her dream had come true.

Her father always used to say: ' _Hard work will always pay off in the end_ '.

"Hey Daddy, guess what? I'm a nurse here now." Rosalie said softly as she spun around to show Edgar her white nurse's dress.

Edgar's gray eyes sparkled. "I can see that, Rosalie. I'm so proud of you." He said in a low tone of voice.

Rosalie smiled back, and father and daughter shared a silent happy moment just smiling at each other. With this daughter and father _words_ weren't needed. They could silently communicate and understand one another.

The week flew by as Rosalie took care of her father and various other patients she had been assigned to. During this time, Rosalie continued to try and approach the other nurses in order to make friends, but they seemed to be avoiding her. For example, if Rosalie spotted some of the nurses chatting by the vending machines, and scrounged up the courage to go and talk to them - they would simply walk away once she approached.

Rosalie sadly realized she was disliked. But she didn't know _why_. On Saturday, Rosalie tried to sit with the other nurses during lunch at the hospital cafeteria, but the nurses ended up leaving the table she tried to join and moved to sit somewhere else. Rosalie frowned in confusion. _What the hell is going on?_

"Slut." One of the nurses muttered loudly.

Rosalie's frown deepened. They couldn't possibly mean her, could they? Rosalie had never even had a boyfriend before so how could she be considered a slut? She'd never even been kissed. It was pretty hard to get a boyfriend when ghosts were always popping up everywhere making you jump, scream or talk to yourself at odd times.

Rosalie's social anxiety was making it difficult for her to talk to the other nurses. She just grew so nervous around them when she tired to talk to them because she sincerely wanted to be their friends. Not wanting to just give up, she doubled her efforts during her second week at the hospital. But she was shunned every single time. Rosalie was beginning to develop greater social anxiety because of this and when she saw the other nurses in the hall she felt her throat constrict and she couldn't breath.

Despite her bad luck with the other nurses, there was one glimmer of hope and that was Dr. Cole. Dr. Cole was always so sweet and considerate towards her. He always spoke kindly to Rosalie. He would patiently explain things to her and wouldn't get mad at her even if she fumbled with something. For example, when she was learning how to give a patient an injection, she had been so nervous that her hands had been shaking and she had continued to drop the syringe. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Rosalie had apologized. But Dr. Cole had patiently walked her through the process again and again until she got it right.

Rosalie let out a wistful little sigh. Dr. Cole was just so wonderful. He was so handsome and he was kind to everyone. He was especially nice to the nurses and they seemed to dislike the extra attention that Rosalie was getting from him. Rosalie pouted and wondered if perhaps they were jealous. But it wasn't like Rosalie was messing up on purpose!

Dr. Cole was kind to _everyone,_ not just her, so the nurses' behavior towards her was nonsensical. Dr. Cole was extremely intelligent, successful and rich, and yet he was so humble. He was a great guy and Rosalie considered him to be her only friend, which was why when Dr. Cole asked Rosalie to stay after work one evening to help him with some lab work she readily agreed.

" _Rosalie, would it be alright for you to stay and work overtime tonight? I'm behind on some lab work and I really need to finish it as soon as possible. I could really use your efficient assistance." Dr. Cole had said._

Rosalie had been surprised and flattered that Dr. Cole had chosen her to ask for help. "I, um, I can stay and help you, Dr. Cole..." Rosalie stammered.

Dr. Cole had smiled warmly at her. "Thank you, Rosalie. You're a real lifesaver! Come to my office at ten o'clock tonight." He finished as he ran his hand back through his slicked back hair.

" _A-A-Alright, Dr. Cole." Rosalie nodded, distracted by his handsome gesture._

At exactly ten o'clock, Rosalie showed up at Dr. Cole's office. She smoothed the wrinkles out of her white nurse's dress with her hands and took a deep breath. She was feeling incredibly nervous. This was going to be her first time truly alone with Dr. Cole. Maybe they would hit it off and become even closer friends? Rosalie could only hope. Rosalie knocked on the door.

"Come in." Came Dr. Cole's confident sounding voice.

Rosalie stepped inside of Dr. Cole's office and saw that the doctor was seated behind his desk, and doing some paperwork. He looked up from his work and gave Rosalie a warm smile. "Ah, Rosalie, I'm just finishing up here and then we can head on over to the lab. Why don't you take a seat?" He motioned towards one of the chairs graciously.

"Ah, alright," Rosalie made her way to the two leather armchairs that were situated in front of Dr. Cole's desk and took a seat with her hands clenched in her lap out of nervousness. She could feel this strange _tension_ in the air between them.

Dr. Cole returned his attention to his paperwork and scribbled his signature on various important documents. In about fifteen minutes, he was finished. He gathered all of the documents together and set them aside in a pile. Dr. Cole cracked his neck from side-to-side and stretched his arms over his head. Rosalie blushed. He looked hot when he did that.

Rosalie adjusted her glasses on her face. She didn't want to see the reprimanding stare of the ghost of her aunt Freya again.

Dr. Cole looked up and met Rosalie's eyes and grinned. "Well, I'm finally finished. Let's get going. Shall we?" Dr. Cole said as he put his hands on his desk and got up from his seat.

"Uh, yes, Dr. Cole," Rosalie stood up and began to follow Dr. Cole as he headed for the door.

Dr. Cole reached the door first and turned the deadbolt lock with a _click_. He then turned around to face Rosalie, a cool expression on his handsome face. He smiled but this time his smile held no warmth or kindness to it, in fact it was more of a sneer. "My dear Rosalie, are you really that naïve?" He questioned in a mocking tone.

"W-What?" Rosalie stopped in her tracks a few feet away from Dr. Cole and looked at the doctor with a confused expression on her face. Why had he locked the door, essentially trapping her inside of his office? Had she done something wrong?

Dr. Cole strode towards Rosalie. "A man asks you to be alone with him after work hours and you don't give it a second thought? You're much too trusting..." Dr. Cole reached out and caressed Rosalie's cheek before running his thumb over her lips. "Or maybe you're just like the other nurses. Maybe you're just a little slut too? Foolish girl." Dr. Cole backhanded Rosalie hard across the face so that she fell to the floor with a startled cry. Her glasses flew off her face and made a cracking sound as they hit the floor.

Rosalie looked up at Dr. Cole's blurry form in a combination of pain and disbelief. She raised a hand to her red, throbbing cheek. "Dr. Cole...?"

Dr. Cole reached into his lab coat and pulled out a syringe. He tested it with his hand, causing a little bit of the clear liquid that was inside of it to leak out of the needle's tip.

Rosalie gave the syringe a wary look.

"Don't worry, my dear. It's just a sedative. Now, hold still." Dr. Cole knelt before Rosalie and reached out towards her neck.

Rosalie panicked. She raised her hands, curled her fingers into fists and beat them against Dr. Cole's chest. But her punches were weak and futile. His chest felt like steel. "Get away from me! No! Stop!" Rosalie cried as Dr. Cole grabbed both of her wrists with his one hand and restrained her by yanking her hands over her head. He reached out with his right hand and injected the sedative into Rosalie's neck.

The sedative began to work instantly - this cold feeling seeping through Rosalie's veins. Trembling with fear, she could feel the energy draining from her arms and legs.

Dr. Cole let go of Rosalie's wrists and Rosalie fell back to the floor where she remained unmoving. She noted that she could no longer move her body. She couldn't even move a pinky finger.

Dr. Cole looked down at Rosalie and nodded to himself. He crouched down besides her and his hands went to the top button of Rosalie's white nurse's dress. He began to unbutton her dress one button at a time in a slow fashion.

Rosalie's eyes went wide with fear. "W-What are you doing?" Her voice quavered. Rosalie realized that she could still speak.

Dr. Cole did not respond as he took Rosalie's nurse's dress off and tossed it aside leaving Rosalie in only a plain white bra and matching underwear. Rosalie felt...exposed. She wished she could wrap her arms around her chest but could not.

What the hell was Dr. Cole planning on doing to her? As Rosalie inwardly panicked her breathing rate increased.

Dr. Cole watched Rosalie's chest rise and fall with each quickened breath that she took as if fascinated by it. Dr. Cole leaned over Rosalie and put his ear to her chest. Rosalie blushed at the close physical contact. "You have a strong heartbeat, Rosalie. A strong heart. Unlike Freya..." He said forlornly.

Rosalie gave Dr. Cole a curious look. "Aunt Freya...?"

"You look so much like Freya. Did you know that? You both have the same amazing eyes. But you _sound_ nothing like her." Dr. Cole frowned. "Freya always sounded so...confident." Dr. Cole stood up and made his way over to a cabinet. He opened it and took out a strange looking device: a leather strap with a buckle and a ball attached to its center. He approached Rosalie with it and knelt down besides her. Dr. Cole then shoved the ball into Rosalie's mouth roughly, and strapped the gag onto her head by buckling it.

Rosalie wanted to scream for help but it was too late. "S-mph...hemph...mppph!" 'Someone help me!'.

"There's no use in struggling, Rosalie...your heart will be mine. But first..." Dr. Cole stood up and made his way over to a closet and pulled out a hanger with a dress bag attached to it. Dr. Cole unzipped the dress bag and took out a long white dress - a wedding dress.

He held the dress up so that Rosalie could see it. The dress was white and strapless with a floor-length bell skirt made of white chiffon. Pearls had been sewn into the bodice of the dress. "This was the dress Freya was planning to get married in but...she died before she could get married...and that was because of me." Dr. Cole explained in a bitter tone.

Rosalie gave Dr. Cole a confused look. Her Aunt Freya was going to get married? But to whom?

Dr. Cole made his way back over to Rosalie and began to dress her in the wedding dress as if she were a doll. First, he began to put a pair of stockings on Rosalie. He slid the stocking over her right foot and began to raise her leg up. He slid his hands up her lower leg and over her thigh towards her crotch. Rosalie blushed and shuddered at Dr. Cole's unwanted, intimate touches. Dr. Cole did the same to her other leg and lifted her leg high. Rosalie felt extremely vulnerable, but there was nothing she could do. Dr. Cole grabbed the stocking at her waist and pulled it up the rest of the way over her crotch.

Dr. Cole looked down at Rosalie's bra thoughtfully and shook his head at it. "That won't do - the dress is strapless." He said as he reached his hands behind Rosalie's back and undid her bra.

"Mmph!" Rosalie objected.

Dr. Cole ignored her as he took Rosalie's bra off and tossed it aside.

Tears filled Rosalie's eyes. No one had ever seen her breasts before. No one had seen her naked before...the only one that should have ever seen her naked body was the man she'd marry.

Dr. Cole mechanically picked up a white strapless bra and put it on Rosalie. It was a little tight, making it hard for her to breath.

Dr. Cole then put the wedding dress on Rosalie by pulling it down over her head. He rolled her onto her stomach and zipped the dress up before rolling her back onto her back. He put a pair of white gloves on Rosalie's hands that went up to her elbows.

He looked down at Rosalie's face and hair. He reached out and removed Rosalie's ponytail so that her chaotic black hair was freed. Dr. Cole strolled over to his desk, opened a drawer, and took out a purple makeup bag with yellow flowers on it.

Rosalie raised an eyebrow at the very girlie item.

"It's not mine." Dr. Cole explained as he approached Rosalie and crouched besides her. Dr. Cole unzipped the makeup bag and then turned the bag upside down so that the expensive, brand name makeup scattered onto the floor. Rosalie spotted a foundation compact, a concealer stick, a powder compact, a blush compact, lip liner, a tube of lipstick, a tube of lip gloss, an eyeshadow compact, eyeliner, mascara, and an eyelash curler.

Dr. Cole picked up the various items and inspected them for a moment. He then began to apply Rosalie's makeup with extreme concentration. He opened the lipstick and sniffed it. "Freya..." He said before temporarily taking Rosalie's gag off and applying the lipstick to her mouth. Rosalie was able to feel this.

Dr. Cole ran his thumb over Rosalie's lips before he leaned over to smell her lips. "Freya's scent..." Dr. Cole murmured before he pressed his lips against Rosalie's.

A chill of cold fear crawled down her spine. Dr. Cole was kissing her!

Dr. Cole pressed his lips against Rosalie's and began to move his lips against hers. Then Dr. Cole's tongue emerged and began to lick Rosalie's lower lip. "Freya's taste..." He moaned as he hungrily and savagely began to lick the lipstick off of Rosalie's lips until there was none left.

Dr. Cole was forced to reapply the lipstick again but then he couldn't resist licking the lipstick off again. He repeated this several times until Rosalie's lips felt chapped and burning by the rough treatment. Finally, Dr. Cole seemed to have gotten enough of Rosalie's lips and applied the lipstick one last time before putting the gag back into her mouth.

Dr. Cole's breathing had become irregular. He was panting for breath. His skin was slightly flushed. Rosalie could see the slight bulge in his pants and the blood ran cold in her veins. Rosalie realized that Dr. Cole was aroused. _Is he going to rape me?!_

Tears began to stream down Rosalie's face. She was so afraid. Her vision was blurry and even blurrier without her glasses, but off to the side of the office she could see a tall, shadowy figure and knew that it was Freya's ghost.

The fact that her aunt was watching this horrible occurrence made Rosalie feel embarrassed and guilty. She had wanted to be alone with Dr. Cole and had planned on ignoring Freya's presence. _What have I done? I can't lose my virginity like this...to a man I don't love!_

Rosalie realized how naïve and stupid she had been to allow herself to be alone with a man at this ungodly hour. But...she had trusted Dr. Cole. She had never thought he'd be capable of something atrocious like this!

Dr. Cole walked over to a table that had several bottles of liquor and chose a bottle of expensive red wine. He uncorked the bottle and poured himself a glass. He opened a pill bottle that was on the tray and took out a _Paxil_ pill. He crumbled the white pill into his glass of wine. He raised the glass of wine to his lips, smelled it and then took a sip. The doctor smiled to himself before putting the glass back to his lips, tilting the glass back and gulping the glass of wine down in one go. The wine burned pleasantly down his throat. After he had drained the glass he poured himself another.

Dr. Cole walked over to his desk, set the glass of wine down, and opened another drawer. This drawer rattled with the several pill bottles that were inside. Dr. Cole had prescriptions for bi-polar disorder, and depression. Since he was a doctor he also had access to samples of new anti-depressants and got to try them out at his whim. He took out a hairbrush and made his way back over to Rosalie. The heart surgeon sat down on the floor and dragged Rosalie's body towards him. He then helped to sit Rosalie up so that her back was facing him. Once she was leaning against him properly, Dr. Cole began to brush Rosalie's hair in an attempt to tame it.

Rosalie shuddered. _What is he planning on doing to me? What kind of sick game is this? Why doesn't he just rape me...or kill me and get it over with...?_

After Dr. Cole finished brushing Rosalie's hair he set her back down on the floor again and picked up a wedding veil. He placed it on Rosalie's head and pulled the veil down over her face, further obscuring her vision. Rosalie panicked. She was almost blind now. Her breathing became even more irregular, coming out of her mouth in abrupt pants. The ghost...was standing closer to them now, nothing but a shadowy figure. _Aunt Freya please don't watch this._ Rosalie begged in her mind.

Dr. Cole stood up and made his way over to his entertainment center before putting on a classical music CD. He put Frank Sinatra's _Fly Me to the Moon_ on repeat and the song began to play.

Dr. Cole drained another glass of wine before going back over to Rosalie. Dr. Cole picked Rosalie up and placed her limp arms around his neck before putting her feet on top of his shoes. "This is our song, Freya...the one we always used to dance to. The one we were planning to dance to during our wedding. Do you remember it? The lessons we took together?" He purred huskily in Rosalie's ear.

Dr. Cole began to waltz around his office with the limp and doll-like Rosalie in his arms. Because her feet were on top of his he was able to make her dance like a puppet.

Rosalie's heart was hammering in her chest at this startling revelation. Freya and Dr. Cole had a song? They were going to get married? Had they been in love? Why had they kept it a secret from the rest of the Galloway family?

Dr. Cole continued to dance rather skillfully across his office with Rosalie in his arms until the song ended and began to restart. "I love you Freya.... I promise I'll protect you...I'll save you...it's not too late!" Dr. Cole insisted as he stroked Rosalie's head.

_Aunt Freya is dead._ Rosalie thought morbidly. _He's crazy...!_

Dr. Cole suddenly let go of Rosalie and she fell back onto the floor. Rosalie felt pain shoot up her back.

Dr. Cole sauntered over to a covered item in the office and pulled the sheet off of it to reveal an examination table and small table next to it. Dr. Cole wheeled the table closer to Rosalie's body before picking her body up and placing her on the examination table. He restrained Rosalie's hands by tying her wrists to the metal bars that were on the sides of the table with leather straps. He did the same to her ankles, tying them to the bed.

Rosalie wanted to struggle but couldn't move. She wanted to scream but was gagged. "Mmph!"

Dr. Cole removed Rosalie's veil so that he could stare down into her ice-blue eyes with this loving expression on his face. He leaned over to put his ear against Rosalie's chest. "I want your heart to be mine. Please, give me your heart."

Dr. Cole walked over to a tall cabinet and opened the doors to reveal several shelves. On the shelves were several glass jars all about the same size. Rosalie squinted as she looked at the jars and tried to see what was inside of them. All she could make out was a dark blur.

Dr. Cole picked up one of the jars, held it in his hands, and hugged the jar to his chest. "Freya...I'll get you a new heart soon..."

_Heart?_ Rosalie furrowed her brow. She paled when she realized that 'hearts' were inside of those jars...probably preserved in formaldehyde. But whose hearts were they? The hearts of other nurses that had come to work for Dr. Cole? Rosalie wondered cryptically.

As if to answer her question several shadowy figures began to materialize around the cabinet. They were women dressed in white and they had gaping holes in their chests. Rosalie swallowed. She was glad they were just blurry images. She didn't want to see their gruesome wounds in detail or their tortured expressions.

Dr. Cole walked over with the jar and placed it on the table that was next to the examination table and that had several shinning, surgical steel, medical instruments and tools on it. Dr. Cole picked up a special marker and began to draw a dotted line on Rosalie's chest, right where her heart was located.

Rosalie's eyes widened in horror as she realized Dr. Cole's intentions. He planned on cutting her heart out! "Mmph...Mmph!" Rosalie cried: 'No! Stop! Let me go!'

The overhead lights inside of Dr. Cole's office began to flicker ominously.

Dr. Cole approached Rosalie with a scalpel. He raised the scalpel and placed it against Rosalie's chest. He began to press down on the scalpel and Rosalie cried out in fear and pain, but her scream was muffled by the gag in her mouth.

"I will have your still beating heart...I will give it to you, Freya...I will save you Freya...my Freya..." Dr. Cole said in a manic sounding tone.

However, the sedatives had begun to wear off. Rosalie could move again and began to twist and thrash against her bonds. "Mmpphh!"

"Tsk." Dr. Cole made a sound of disgust and stopped the incision. "Hold still! Or else this could get really messy."

Out of the corner of her eyes, Rosalie saw a tall shadowy figure. It got closer and abnormally closer as if it had suddenly teleported until Rosalie's eyes widened. It was Freya's ghost - she recognized the pale blue dress, the gaping hole in her chest that was leaking black blood. Black tears were streaming down Freya's face and her eyes were narrowed in anger. A powerful aura flared up around Freya and an unseen wind seemed to blow through the office violently disrupting the papers on top of Dr. Cole's desk and sending them flying to the floor.

"No, my love...no more! No more killing in my name! No more killing for my sake! You made me this way! I cannot rest in peace until my bones have been buried in the ground!" Freya moaned pitifully and glared at Dr. Cole hatefully. "WHYYYY WON'T YOU LET ME REST IN PEACCEEEE?!" Freya wailed.

The bonds on Rosalie's wrists and ankles suddenly snapped apart. Rosalie's eyes widened and she sat up quickly. Instinctively, she reached out and grabbed the jar with the heart inside of it. She raised the jar and smashed it over Dr. Cole's head. The jar shattered and the heart fell to the floor with a sickening, juicy thud.

Dr. Cole staggered backwards, dazed and with blood streaming down his pale face.

Rosalie hopped off the examination table and fled for the door while taking the gag off.

"No! Freya!" Dr. Cole cried out and fell to his knees on the floor next to the fallen heart. The strong scent of formaldehyde was in the air. Dr. Cole put his hands on the still heart and began to press down on the heart in time with his own heartbeat. "Come on, Freya! Don't die! You have to live!"

Rosalie's blood ran cold at the macabre sight. Dr. Cole trying to get a preserved heart to beat again even as blood trailed down the side of his face. She shook her head. _He's completely insane._

Dr. Cole leaned down and pressed his lips frantically to the heart in a bone-chilling manner.

All the while, the ghost of Freya stood there watching the doctor angrily. She approached Dr. Cole and stood behind him before leaning over and raking her nails down his back.

Rosalie grabbed her purse and her broken glasses before fleeing from the office and slamming the door behind her. She heard Dr. Cole crying out in pain but she didn't look back. She ran down the hall, took the elevator to the first floor, and as soon as the elevator door opened she was running through the hospital lobby and out the front automatic doors. It was raining outside but Rosalie didn't turn back to get her umbrella from the locker room. _I have to get away! Far away! Run Rosalie, run!_

Still dressed in the wedding dress, Rosalie ran out into the cold, pouring rain, and down the sidewalk. Driven by her blinding fear, she didn't have a clear destination in mind and simply kept on running. She wanted to scream but her voice was lodged in her throat. She wanted to cry out for help but who would come to her aid? She had no one special in her life.

She ran until her legs burned and she finally collapsed to the sidewalk, falling flat on her face in a muddy puddle of water with a splash. She was a trembling, sobbing mess. Rosalie remained prone for a long moment, not able to find the motivation to move as the cold rain pounded down upon her mercilessly, soaking her to the bone.

And then she heard a familiar sounding voice. Calling to her. She knew that voice. He was singing.

Rosalie gathered her strength to push herself up off the sidewalk and stood up. She turned to see that she had collapsed right in front of an electronics store. In the window there was a huge HD flat screen TV being displayed for sale. The TV was showing a concert performance by the band _Erotic Corpses_. The owner of the electronics store had the sound blasted high, so that Rosalie was actually able to hear Blake White's singing through the glass.

She had recognized _his_ voice...the voice of her favorite punk rock artist, and now she got to see what he looked like for the very first time.

Blake White was this incredible bright light during that dark moment of her life. He seemed to be shinning even brighter than the stars that were struggling to shine through the gray rain clouds that swirled overhead. He was the most handsome man Rosalie had ever laid her eyes upon. He was even handsomer than the playboy, pervert, and psychopath Dr. Cole.

Blake White was 6' 3" with a built, muscular physique and weighed one hundred and eighty-five pounds. He had platinum blonde hair that had been cut into a stylish rockstar hairdo. His hair was spiked and gelled in places and fell to his shoulders. He was wearing a dramatic, black trench coat that had the design of crosses on both of the jacket's lapels made out of metal studs. He had on a pair of sinfully tight, black leather pants that showed just how muscular his legs were. He also had on a pair of combat boots that had several straps and buckles on them. She noticed that he was wearing an array of jewelry that seemed to be glimmering in the stage lights - a silver chain with a medieval cross on it, several hoop earrings in one ear, a black leather bracelet with silver spikes on it, and several rings were on his hands.

But Blake's most unique feature was his eye color - his eyes were an unusual pale lavender color that seemed to gleam with energy as he sang. Blake's nickname, given to him by the band's fans that were called 'zombies' was 'The White Ghost'.

Behind Blake stood the rest of the band. The lead electric guitarist, Devon Decayn, was strumming a dark blue Stratocaster and his fingers were sliding up and down the fret board. Devon Decayn was 6'1'' and weighed one hundred and seventy-three pounds. He was in shape but not as muscular as Blake. He was equally handsome, though more in a dark, mysterious and rugged kind of way. Devon had short, chin-length, dark blue hair that had been cut into an edgy style. The sides of his head had been cut with a razor to make intricate designs in his hair. He had brooding obsidian eyes. The guitarist was wearing a short, black leather jacket that had lots of spikes on it. Beneath the jacket he was wearing a plain white t-shirt and he had on a pair of designer jeans and boots. Devon's nickname was 'The Angel of Death'.

Holding a yellow and black zebra-striped bass guitar was Joey Bones. Joey was 5' 11" and weighed one hundred and sixty-five pounds. He was less pale than Blake and Devon, and had a healthy, peachy glow to his complexion. The bass guitarist had short, spiked-up blonde hair with black tips, and shinning blue eyes. Joey had on a black t-shirt with the words ' _Last Tango_ ' on it spelled out with white bones, a pair of slashed blue jeans and a pair of VANS on his feet. Joey was the least serious looking of the band and was always smiling. Joey's nickname was 'The Dancing Skeleton' and was known for his break dancing skills.

Behind Blake, Joey and Devon was the drum set and seated behind the drums was Vincent Sangre. Vincent was 6' 2" and weighed one hundred and seventy pounds. He had olive-toned skin due to being half Mexican. He had long, thick, straight hair that he had dyed a blood red color. Hidden behind a pair of round, yellow sunglasses his eyes were naturally red due to a rare genetic trait in his DNA. He was wearing a black, Victorian-style jacket with tails, a red cravat, black silk pants, and a top hat that had a red ribbon around its crown. Vincent Sangre's nickname was 'The Vampire Prince'.

Rosalie watched Blake White sing, mesmerized by his passionate performance. She recognized the song _Zombie Awakening_ and her mouth slowly opened as she began to sing along with Blake. "Thank God, I'm alive! Thank the Buddha, I'm alive! Thank Allah, I'm alive! Thank Satan, I'm alive! I'm alive! Yea! I'm back from hell!"

***

Meanwhile, at exactly the same time, but in a very different world - one filled with celebrities, socialites, millionaires and bottles of sparkling Dom Pérignon - Blake White and his band mates were inside of a limo cruising down a street in the hood that a limo filled with celebrities really had no business going down. Blake's girlfriend and fellow singer, Sadie Skellington, was sitting next to him with her arms tightly wrapped around his arm in a possessive gesture.

Sadie Skellington was 5'3" and weighed one hundred and five pounds. She had chin-length, blonde and pink highlighted hair that flipped out at the ends in a punky style. She had large, wide, angelic blue eyes. She was wearing a black and pink tube top, a fluffy, short, black skirt, fishnet stockings and high-heeled shoes. The female singer was wearing a necklace with a skull on it that had a princess crown on its head, and matching earrings.

Blake sighed as he looked over at his best friend, Devon Decayn, who had a _Victoria's Secret_ model clinging to his arm, on the limo seat. Blake wracked his brain for the name of the model but couldn't remember it. He shrugged. It wasn't like he really gave a shit what the bimbo's name was anyways.

A few minutes earlier, the four celebrities had been drinking champagne, and enjoying themselves as Blake's private chauffeur Harper drove them through Rodeo Drive. But Blake quickly grew bored of the familiar sights, and ordered his chauffeur to take them through the hood, so that maybe they'd stumble upon some _action_. Blake was a thrill seeker. He loved looking for trouble and getting into fights. He considered it 'having an adventure'. Since he was a millionaire he could get into a fight with someone, get arrested, go to the police station, and his millions would make any subsequent problems simply disappear.

"Maybe we'll get to see some hoodlum get shot." Sadie said with an excited smile as she lit up a cigarette with her Zippo.

The model seemed less enthused by the prospect and frowned. "I hope not...that would be gross."

Devon put his arm around his date in a comforting gesture as he gave Blake a reproachful look. "Don't worry, babe, something like that won't happen."

Blake gave Devon a shrug. He didn't give a shit what his uptight friend thought of his thrill seeking. Sometimes Blake just needed to beat the shit out of some assholes in order to feel better about the skeletons rattling in his closet.

The hood was surprisingly quiet that night and the gaudy limo wasn't attracting as much attention as it probably should have been in such a poor neighborhood. And then just as the limo was passing by an electronics store Blake caught sight of the strangest thing:

A bride had apparently been caught outside in the rain - the white dress clinging to her body had become slightly see-through and Blake could see her nipples and long legs that were clinging to the chiffon. The bride didn't seem to mind that she had been completely drenched. Her eyes were glued to the window in front of her. Blake looked past the bride to see a large flat screen TV that was airing _Erotic Corpses_ ' latest concert. Blake smirked. So that was why the girl's eyes were riveted to that window - it had been because of him. He should have known.

"Hey, stop the limo, Henry." Blake ordered firmly.

"Yes, Sir. And it's Harper, Sir." Harper replied in a droning tone as he stopped the limo about a block away from the electronics store.

Blake looked at the TV screen curiously and saw that it was playing a rerun of the live concert performance he had just given mere hours ago. The bride was looking at the image of the band on screen intently before she opened her mouth and began to sing. Blake's eyes widened as he watched the crazy bride start to belt out punk rock lyrics at the top of her lungs. Blake's expression turned smug.

Sadie noticed that Blake's attention had been stolen from her and pouting she looked out of the window to see just what Blake was looking at so intently. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of a drenched bride singing a rock song in the middle of a rainstorm. Sadie began to cackle, and took a long drag from her cigarette, the tip glowing. "What does that crazy bride think she's doing? Is she on crack?"

Devon peered over his date's shoulder to watch the bride and shrugged a moment later. "Looks like she's having fun. That's what our music is supposed to do, Sadie, make people _feel_ something. Give people dreams, even if it's crazy ones."

"Dreams?" Sadie snorted. Sadie was the lead singer of a rival band called _The Necromancers_ \- it was a heavy metal band that sung songs with a lot of dark macabre themes. "You don't know what you're talking about, Devon. My music is about making people become my worshippers and for them to obey me!" Sadie flipped her hair.

Devon shook his head at the heavy metal singer.

Sadie put her cigarette out by crushing the still burning tip on her tongue before she began to sing the lyrics to one of her more popular songs. "I'm a bitch! I'm a sadist! I'm a fucking princess! Now bow before me and submit! Obey me! Obey me! Get on your knees dog and obey me! YEAAA!"

The model began to giggle. "That girl is totally crazy! Who would do that? Singing outside in the rain? Isn't she worried that her mascara is going to run?" The model joined in with Sadie and the two girls continued to fling insults at the bride maliciously.

Rosalie had put her glasses inside of her purse since because of the rain she couldn't see anything with them on anyways. Her black hair was cascading loose around her shoulders in chaotic waves. So when Blake saw her singing in the rain in her clinging, see-through wedding dress with her black hair loose about her shoulders in ringlets, he thought one thing, secretly to himself: _she's_ _beautiful_.

Blake frowned suddenly as if surprised by his own thought and tired of his temporary amusement. "Henry, let's get the hell out of here already. That runaway bride has nothing to do with us..."

"Yes, Sir." Harper agreed petulantly and the limo drove past the electronics store. "And it's Harper..."

Blake looked out the window and watched the bride intently as they sped by. There was _something_ about that crazy girl that piqued Blake's interest. It made him want to ask Henry to stop the limo but Blake resisted this strange urge. This unsettled Blake, because Blake White wasn't interested in anyone but himself.

***

Slowly, Rosalie's voice grew louder and louder until she was belting out the rock lyrics. Her singing was completely out of tune. There were tears streaming down her face, but they could have been raindrops as the rain continued to fall down all around her.

She suddenly felt stronger, freer. Why couldn't her _voice_ always be this loud? Why was she soft-spoken by nature?

Blake White's song, his music, and his presence had managed to calm Rosalie down and she began to feel a little better. His voice comforted her and made her feel warm and safe.

She couldn't give up. Blake White wouldn't just give up. Blake really was amazing. According to _Rolling Stone_ magazine, Blake was America's number one punk rockstar, and was already a millionaire at the young age of twenty-five. He was a celebrity and someone from another world. A world that Rosalie knew she'd never be a part of.

Rosalie knew deep in her heart that she'd never ever get to meet Blake White in person, but...that was okay. She was content with just being his fan and getting to listen to his music. His songs gave her the will to keep moving forward.

Rosalie walked the rest of the way to her apartment building without taking the bus. She went up to her apartment, opened the door, and was instantly greeted by her five black cats. She entered her apartment and closed the door behind her.

"Honeys, I'm home." Her voice cracked as Rosalie knelt down and picked up Lucky, squeezing him tightly to her chest. "Oh Lucky...! Why did something like that have to happen to me? What did I do to deserve that? My life really is cursed."

"Merrrow!" Lucky protested and struggled in Rosalie's fierce grip. Finally, Lucky managed to escape and Rosalie was left with her arms empty.

Sometimes pets were a poor substitute for human company. But only because they couldn't talk and couldn't hug you. Rosalie let out a heavy sigh. She really wished her father could hold her close right then. She really needed a hug.

"Daddy..." Rosalie moaned. Soaking wet, Rosalie made her way to the bathroom. She stripped off the tattered wedding gown and stepped into the shower. She turned on the hot water and let the water cascade down over her head.

Rosalie rubbed her hand over her sore mouth. Her lips were still tingling from the several kisses Dr. Cole had forced upon her.

She stood under the spray until her hands began to prune but no matter how hard she scrubbed her skin, she didn't feel clean.

Rosalie stepped out of the shower forty-five minutes later and turned the water off. Rosalie brushed her teeth and tongue for twenty minutes, and rinsed her mouth with _Cool Mint Listerine_ for another ten minutes.

It was probably just her imagination but she could have sworn she could taste formaldehyde in her mouth. She shuddered. The taste of Death.

Rosalie got changed into her light blue, fleece pajamas that had the pattern of white cat heads and white fish bones on them, before climbing into bed. She fell into a fitful sleep. She woke up a few hours later, screaming and drenched in sweat. "No!" She cried out in a choked voice. Rosalie put a hand over her frantically beating heart. At least her heart was still inside of her chest.

Rosalie tried to go back to sleep and when she awoke next it was to hear music playing from her alarm clock. Ironically, one of Blake White's songs was playing. She had been considering just staying home and sleeping all day, but upon hearing Blake's voice she changed her mind. For some reason she felt like he was saying 'get your ass out of bed, pathetic girl!'. She smiled, ruefully at the thought.

Rosalie sighed and looked over at the alarm clock. It read: 7:15. If she put off getting out of bed any longer she was going to be late for work. _Late for work?_ She pondered. Did she even still have a job? Was Dr. Cole alright? She had hit him pretty hard over the head with that jar and there had been a lot of blood. Would he sue her? She had to go to the hospital and find out. But how could she face Dr. Cole alone? He was a total psychopath. Rosalie shrugged at the thought. What did it really matter? She was always alone anyways.

If only she had some way to better defend herself. Dr. Cole was just too strong to fight against on her own, his muscles were like steel. A sudden idea came to Rosalie as she thought about a book she'd recently finished: _The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo_. In the book a girl had been raped by her legal guardian and she had gone out and purchased a taser. The next time she encountered the man she had tasered him unexpectedly and then given him a little taste of his own medicine.

Rosalie decided she'd go out and buy a taser too. After all she lived in the hood. How hard could it be to find some hoodlums selling dangerous weapons on the street? The only problem was...money. She had no more loose cash...but she did have her father's _Rolex_.

The watch had been a wedding present from Rosalie's mother Belladonna to Edgar. It was an _AirKing Rolex_ and worth at least three grand.

Rosalie leaned over her bed, opened the drawer of her nightstand, and took out the _Rolex_. She nodded to herself. She could do this. She tried very hard not to start hyperventilating.

Rosalie dragged herself out of bed, and made her way to the bathroom where she brushed her teeth, and washed her face. Afterwards she got dressed in a simple _Garfield_ t-shirt and a pair of old jeans. She tried to comb her unruly locks of black hair but soon gave up, tying her hair back into a tight ponytail. Lastly, she put her round glasses on her face. She frowned as she looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror - her glasses had been cracked. The right lens had a crack running through it now. But Rosalie couldn't afford to get a new pair of glasses at the moment so the glasses would have to do for now.

Rosalie made herself two pieces of toast for her breakfast, but Lucky ended up stealing her second piece of toast when she wasn't looking. After she fed her cats she left her stifling apartment.

She tiptoed past her landlady's door since the rent was due soon before making her way down the stairs and then out of the apartment building. _Rolex_ in her jeans' pocket, Rosalie took a deep breath to steel her nerves. She crossed the street and began to walk down the sidewalk deeper into the hood.

African-American and Mexican men and women peered at her from inside their rundown homes and apartment buildings curiously as she passed. A girl as white as her in a neighborhood like this stuck out like a sore thumb.

Rosalie reached a particularly bad part of town and spotted a group of four teenaged African-Americans sitting on some front steps. Rosalie thought they looked dangerous enough and so decided to approach them. Her body was slightly trembling. But she had to do this!

The African-American teens looked at Rosalie curiously as she approached them. They were pretty normal looking teenagers, but as Rosalie took in their hoodies, the fake gold chains around their necks, the fake diamond earrings in their ears, the t-shirts with Satanic images and that had rhinestones on them, and the baseball caps and beanies that were shadowing their eyes and expressions - she thought they looked extremely scary.

Rosalie grew paler as she approached. _They're all male..._

Rosalie stopped a few feet away from the teens and tried to speak. "I...um...I..." Rosalie started, her voice lodged in her throat. Why couldn't she just spit it out? Why couldn't she just speak normally? Why was interacting with people always so hard for her?

"Yea, what is it, white girl?" "You have a problem with us?" "Spit it out, white girl." "Think she's some kind of cop?" "Naw, she looks terrified...like she's about to piss in her expensive silk panties." "Hahahaha!" "Are you lost little red riding hood? You should be careful walking around here...there are wolves in the hood, you know."

"There are wolves in Beverly Hills too." Rosalie said softly.

"Say what? That was kind of funny, white girl." One of the teens chuckled. This one had on some frayed jeans and dirty sneakers. "What do you want anyways?"

"I...um..." Rosalie tried again.

The teens were quickly loosing their patience with Rosalie. "Shit...should we call the cops to pick the little lost lamb up?" The boys broke out laughing again.

"Not lost..." Rosalie muttered softly.

And then, the already bored teens turned the knob of their boom box up to blast the rock music they were listening to and Rosalie's eyes widened in surprise. "That's... _Erotic Corpses_. Their new song: _Zombie Awakening_ from their Album: _Buried Alive_."

The teens were bowled over by her statement. "You listen to punk rock, white girl?"

Rosalie nodded and next when she opened her mouth she began to sing along with Blake's song until her voice grew louder and louder. She was completely out of tune but the teens didn't seem to mind. They whistled enthusiastically and cheered Rosalie's impromptu karaoke performance on.

"Whoo, go white girl! Sing it!" "You got it going on!" "Yo, white girl is rockin' the house!" "Go white girl, go white girl, it's your birthday!"

A few seconds later, Rosalie was sitting on the steps with the teens and singing _Erotic Corpses_ ' songs with them as if that were the most normal and natural thing in the world. Rosalie smiled. Music really was amazing. It could bring people from completely different walk of life together. Music had the power to change the world. Rosalie had already discovered that music had the power to motivate and comfort someone who was down in the dumps, and give a person a reason to keep moving forward. Rosalie figured music could be used to bring peace and understanding among people who were in disagreement.

A world without music would be a world not worth living in. Without music, there would be no dreams.

"CJ! Will you boys turn that shit down!?" Came a harsh male voice as the father of one of the boys exited the apartment building to yell at the teens. He stopped up short when he caught sight of Rosalie however.

"Nurse Galloway? What are you doing here?" The black man looked nervous suddenly. "I don't owe the hospital any more money do I?"

" _Nurse_?" CJ echoed in amazement as he looked back and forth between the young woman and his father.

Rosalie looked up the steps behind her and recognized Mr. Brown standing in the doorway. Mr. Brown had been rushed into the emergency room a week ago because he had been shot. Apparently, he had been caught in the crossfire of a gang war. Or so he claimed. Rosalie had assisted Dr. Cole during the operation to remove the bullet. Afterwards, when she had brought Mr. Brown his meals she had snuck him some Kentucky friend chicken when he had complained about the hospital food being tasteless.

"Mr. Brown?" Rosalie looked up at her patient, wide-eyed.

"What are you doing here, Miss Galloway? It's dangerous for a girl like you to be alone in a place like this." Mr. Brown warned. "You boys haven't been disrespecting Nurse Galloway have you, now?" Mr. Brown questioned sternly as he wagged his finger at the boys.

"No sir!" The teens replied.

"You best be going Miss Galloway. It's not safe." Mr. Brown reiterated.

Rosalie nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry to have troubled you..."

Mr. Brown nodded and went back inside the building. Rosalie stood up to leave but CJ reached his hand out and grabbed Rosalie's arm.

Rosalie flinched out of reflex and slapped his hand away.

"Er, sorry about that." CJ stumbled with his words. "But didn't you need something from us?"

Rosalie nodded. She took out the _Rolex_ and handed it to the teen. "I want a taser."

CJ gave his friends a questioning look, but they all shrugged and put their hands out in a helpless gesture before them. CJ shook his head. "I ain't got no taser but damn girl...is this shit real?" CJ asked as he inspected the watch. "Hey, I'll give you something better than a stinkin taser." CJ looked around cautiously before reaching inside his hoodie and pulling out a gun. "This is a .45. You know what that is right? This one is model 1911-A1 by Taurus." CJ stroked the gun in an admiring way. "Comes with an eight round magazine."

Rosalie's eyes went wide and she had to control herself from fainting right there on the spot.

CJ handed Rosalie the heavy gun. "It's loaded so be careful. You have only eight shots. Right now the safety is on. You know how to take the safety off?"

Rosalie shook her head.

CJ sighed and showed Rosalie how to take the safety off and how to put it back on again. As a sort of special service, he even showed Rosalie how to properly aim the gun.

"Think you got it, white girl, er, Nurse Galloway?" CJ asked as he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

Rosalie nodded. "Yes, thank you." She said softly before putting the gun behind her back, using her tight jeans to keep the gun pressed against her lower back. She pulled her t-shirt down low to cover it up.

The teens exchanged worried looks as Rosalie turned to go.

CJ called out to her. "If a nice girl like you decides to buy a gun...the guy's an asshole. Don't hesitate when you pull the trigger, white girl. Blow his fucking brains out." CJ grinned, revealing startling white teeth.

Rosalie gave CJ a tremulous smile and a slight nod before walking away. _Blow his fucking brains out._ Rosalie wished she could do something like that but...Rosalie didn't think she'd be capable of killing someone. She was a nurse after all. The most important thing to her was - _life_.

Rosalie let out a heavy sigh. What the hell was she going to do with a .45 anyways? All she had wanted was a taser.

My life really is cursed.

### Chapter 2: California Über Alles

Rosalie took the bus to Good Samaritan Hospital. The bus stopped pretty close by and Rosalie walked the rest of the way there. She entered the hospital and rode the elevator up to the sixth floor. The receptionist gave Rosalie her usual jealous glare and didn't say anything to her as Rosalie made her way directly to Dr. Cole's office. _Jealous of a psychopath. Yea, that makes a lot of sense._ Rosalie took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Rosalie was absolutely terrified but she tried her best not to tremble.

"Come in." Dr. Cole's usual cool and collected sounding voice was heard albeit it sounded a little strained.

Rosalie stepped inside and shut the door behind her.

Dr. Cole looked up from his paperwork and his eyes widened when he caught sight of Rosalie. He arched an eyebrow at her and the surprise was evident on his face. "Rosalie. I didn't expect to see you again..." Dr. Cole gave her a hopeful look. "Perhaps, you've forgiven me?" He shook his head as he observed the way Rosalie had her back to the door and her hand on the doorknob. "I suppose not. Last night, I did something quite regrettable...didn't I? I will be honest when I say I barely remember what happened.  
The anti-depressants I'm on sometimes have that affect on me. I black out and I do not remember my actions during that time, but that does not make my actions inexcusable. Deep down, I must have wanted to do what I did - even if it was sick and twisted." Dr. Cole gave Rosalie a concerned look. "You're not hurt are you?" His eyes lingered upon her chest.

Rosalie shook her head.

You're one of the lucky ones then." Dr. Cole explained cryptically. "I destroy everything I love...Rosalie. I truly loved your Aunt Freya and yet I was unable to save her...and now you. You're so similar to Freya. Your marvelous eyes...your strong heart. I'm willing to forgive you for hitting me over the head last night..." Dr. Cole raised a hand to the white cloth bandages that were wrapped around his head. "Give me another chance, Rosalie. To love you without hurting you. I want your heart to be mine." Dr. Cole put his hands on the table in front of him and was about to stand up, but Rosalie reached behind her and pulled out her .45. She pointed it at Dr. Cole.

"D-Don't move." Rosalie stammered.

Dr. Cole took one look at the gun and sunk back down into his chair. "I see. No change of heart then. Are you here to kill me?" Dr. Cole asked mockingly and didn't appear to be too concerned.

Rosalie frowned at his calmness, as if he had accepted he might die so easily. "N-No."

Dr. Cole spread his hands out in a helpless gesture. "If I cannot have your heart...then I hope you understand that you're fired Miss Galloway."

"But that's...not fair." Rosalie objected, stubbornly.

"If you want to continue working here you have to give your heart to me. Be mine, Rosalie, and I too will be yours. I love you. This time...I promise I won't harm you. Not like the others." Dr. Cole claimed passionately, willing Rosalie to understand.

Rosalie's eyes widened in horrified realization. _No! It can't be! All those poor girls!_ How many nurses had Dr. Cole killed and ripped out their hearts before putting them in jars? He was a serial killer. A murderer.

Dr. Cole let out a heavy sigh. "I'm being sincere, Rosalie. I really will try my best not to kill you, but I _must_ have your heart. This is the highest paying hospital in Los Angeles. And there's a lot of competition in the medical industry now...nurses are a dime a dozen, you know. You will easily be replaced."

Rosalie gave Dr. Cole a pitying look. "You're crazy. You know that right, but...I feel sorry for you because you obviously loved my aunt very much and her death must have driven you mad."

Dr. Cole arched an eyebrow at Rosalie. "If I'm mad why am I not locked up somewhere?"

"The same reason you got away with all those murders, I suppose." Rosalie grimly noted.

Dr. Cole chuckled. "Indeed. I have friends in very high places, Rosalie. Connections are everything."

"You're scum. You're nothing but a coldhearted murderer. You should be punished for your crimes. Your hands are stained with the blood of innocents!" Rosalie's low voice cracked.

Dr. Cole's lips thinned into a grim line. "This world is simply an ugly place. It's filled with murder, cruelty, and death. People see it everyday and yet they ignore it. Every time a spider catches a butterfly in its web. Every time you eat a hamburger. A cow had to die so that you could eat. We all kill and consume and destroy. No one is sin free in this world. No one will leave this world with their hands clean. If you think you can leave this world sin free, Rosalie, then you're just being naïve. Sweet, innocent people like you don't last long in this cruel world, Rosalie. They are devoured by people like me." Dr. Cole licked his lips.

Rosalie shuddered. "You're wrong. I'm not like you...I'll never be like you. I would rather die first. I may not be able to work here anymore but...I plan on continuing to visit my father. You won't keep me from him. And just so you know, I will always be carrying this gun when I come here...just in case you try anything weird, Dr. Cole - it will be the last thing you do. I promise." Rosalie gave him as fierce a look as she could give.

A dark cloud fell over Dr. Cole's handsome face. "Are you actually threatening me? Me? Dr. Kip Cole? I don't think you have any idea who you're messing with, Rosalie. You _will_ regret this. I _will_ destroy you."

"G-Go ahead and try." Rosalie shot back and put her gun back behind her back between her jeans and her lower back. She left Dr. Cole's office and slammed the door behind her. _Perverted psycho doctor. What did he mean by saying that he would destroy me? Is he going to try and rip my heart out of my chest again?_ Rosalie shivered at the thought and wrapped her arms around her torso. _I'll blow his fucking brains out if he tries._ _My life is cursed._ Rosalie let out a heavy sigh, knowing she could never do something like that even if she wanted to. Her conscience would hold her back.

***

Rosalie was reluctantly thrown back out into the 'job hunting' world. She got out her job hunting outfit again and dusted it off - the white blouse, black jacket, knee length skirt, and scuffed up high heels. She scheduled various interviews for a nurse's position at different hospitals. Most of these hospitals were outside of Los Angeles, however, and would have been a long commute.

But for some reason as soon as the Chief of Nursing looked at the name on her resume - their faces would pale, their expressions would grow cold, and they'd immediately reject her without even hearing what she had to say.

It was like Rosalie had been 'blacklisted' or something. And then Rosalie realized the truth...she _had_ been blacklisted. _Dr. Cole._ He must have informed the other hospitals not to hire her! _Crap!_ Rosalie collapsed to her knees in despair in the middle of the sidewalk. People passed Rosalie by and gave her strange looks but she was used to strange looks.

Rosalie felt so powerless like the wind had been knocked out of her sails. How could she fight against such a powerful and well-connected man? She was no match for him...he really would destroy her. In fact, he already had. _So this is what he meant...dammit. It's just not fair. Life's not fair. My life really is cursed..._

If Rosalie couldn't get taken on as a nurse then she wouldn't be able to make enough money to provide her father with better medication, and chemotherapy. Her dream to help her father - it had been destroyed by Dr. Cole's own blood-stained hands.

Rosalie sighed, realizing she had no choice. She'd have to get a temporary job somewhere else in order to make the money she needed to pay the rent for her apartment or else she was fucked.

Rosalie spotted a newspaper stand down the street and hurried over and purchased a copy of the _Los Angeles Times_ and checked the classified section. She wasn't good with dealing with people...but she wasn't stupid. Why did all the ads say that they wanted a 'happy' or 'outgoing' person with a great personality? Rosalie frowned, wasn't that asking a bit much?

_Stupid service industry. Who's going to hire me if I can't properly greet and deal with customers? This is so unfair._ Rosalie never realized that interacting with people could be so important. And then she spotted an ad for a part-time worker for the nightshift at a 7-Eleven close to where she lived. If it was the nightshift there would be fewer people around. That could be the perfect job for her. Rosalie decided to go to the 7-Eleven and apply for the job immediately.

Rosalie took the bus, arrived at the 7-Eleven, and entered the convenience store through the automatic sliding glass doors. Standing behind the counter was an overweight young man with a buzz cut, who was currently picking his nose and a Goth girl who was painting her fingernails black. The Goth girl's outfit was incredible...Rosalie thought she looked like she belonged in a horror movie or something.

She had on white face makeup, and her lips and eyes had been lined and painted in black. She was wearing a black, medieval gown with belled sleeves and a pentagram necklace was dangling between her impressive cleavage. Her hair had been dyed a dark purple collar and cascaded around her shoulders in waves. Rosalie decided that Carrie wasn't ugly or anything but...she was definitely scary and intimidating. She looked just like a real witch would appear having been transported out of a fantasy book.

Rosalie timidly walked over to the counter and looked at their nametags. Buzz-cut's nametag read: 'Manager Chuck'. The Goth girl's nametag read: 'Caroline'.

"Um, excuse me," Rosalie began in a low voice.

Chuck looked up and flicked his booger into the air absentmindedly. Rosalie dodged sideways. "Yea? What can I get ya?" Chuck was wearing a stained t-shirt that barely covered his beer gut, and a pair of baggy jeans.

"Er, about the position for the nightshift here..." Rosalie began tentatively.

"You're hired." Chuck drawled, disinterestedly.

Rosalie blinked. "Huh? What? I mean, excuse me, I don't understand..."

Chuck let out heavy sigh and narrowed his pale eyes at Rosalie. "Are you stoned or something? I said: you're hired. So, show up at eleven PM. You have the nightshift with Carrie tonight. You'll work until seven in the morning. You'll pretty much just be receiving deliveries and stocking up the cooler. At six o'clock we usually have a breakfast rush though, so try and stay awake. Got it?" Chuck ordered.

Rosalie looked at the Goth girl Carrie nervously. _I'll have to work the nightshift with Carrie?_ Rosalie wondered to herself and Goosebumps broke out all over her arms. _At night...with a witch..._

Carrie felt Rosalie's eyes upon her and looked up curiously. She looked Rosalie up and down taking in her smart yet wrinkled business suit, and snorted. Then she met Rosalie's eyes, her expression turning amused and a sly smile formed on her lips. Carrie leaned forward and said a single word loudly in Rosalie's face: "Boo!"

Rosalie promptly fainted.

Carrie blinked down at the fallen girl. "Wow, I didn't mean to scare her so bad...ahahaha." Carrie laughed nervously with a hand behind her head. "Think she'll sue me?" Carrie asked Chuck.

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" Chuck said in a droning tone. "You're lucky I let you dress like that but...it's bad for our customers' health. You're the reason why no one tries to rob this place during the nightshift though. The robbers are more afraid of you than the cops!"

"Shut up, fatass!" Carrie spat, glaring daggers at Chuck.

After Rosalie regained consciousness a few minutes later, it was to find Carrie and Chuck hovering over her prone body with a worried expression on their faces. Rosalie choked on a scream upon seeing Chuck hovering over her like that. Rosalie quickly sat up.

"Are you okay?" Carrie asked Rosalie concernedly. "I didn't mean to scare you. I was just joking around, you know?" Carrie played with the pentagram that was around her neck absentmindedly.

Rosalie wondered if Carrie was going to curse her or something, but nodded towards Carrie anyways. She even allowed Carrie to help her up. Chuck just watched the two girls without saying anything.

"So, eleven's okay, right?" Chuck asked again. "And think you can wear something more...normal?"

"Normal?" Rosalie asked.

She didn't think she'd EVER fit anyone's view of what 'normal' was.

"He means like jeans and a t-shirt, but does it look like _I_ follow this place's dress code? It would be an insult to the Goddess." Carrie said firmly.

"Goddess?" Rosalie found herself asking despite her better judgment.

Carrie gave Rosalie a scandalized look. "The _Great_ Goddess. Sometimes thought of as Mother Earth."

"Oh, right." Rosalie readily agreed. She didn't want to make Carrie angry after all.

"She has no idea who the hell your so-called Goddess is, freak." Chuck snorted.

"Shut up, beer-gut." Carrie shot back. "Don't disrespect the Goddess or I'll put a curse on you! And you'll stay a virgin forever!"

"Oh, I'm _so_ scared." Chuck said mockingly but as he walked away muttering something about taking inventory; his legs were visibly shaking.

"See you at eleven." Carrie said happily.

Rosalie nodded shyly. "Uh, yes, see you."

***

Rosalie went home and changed out of her job hunting outfit and into a pair of jeans, a t-shirt that had some drawings of cats on it, and the words: 'crazy 4 cats' and her sneakers. Rosalie tried to get her crazy hair in order and pulled it back into a tight ponytail. She still had a lot of time to kill until the night shift and so she started reading _Exile_ (Book 2 of the _Dark Elf Trilogy)_ while listening to _Erotic Corpses_ ' latest album: _Buried Alive_.

10:30 rolled around and Rosalie left her apartment. She made her way to the 7-Eleven that was just a few blocks away from her apartment building. She entered the 7-Eleven through its automatic sliding glass doors and spotted Carrie already standing behind the counter. Rosalie stopped in her tracks, however, when she saw what Carrie was doing. Carrie had a small black cauldron set up in front of her and appeared to be performing some kind of witchcraft. Carrie wrote something down on a piece of paper before putting it inside of the cauldron. She then picked up a matchbook and struck up a match. Carrie then tossed the lit match into the cauldron, setting the piece of paper on fire. "You lying, cheating scumbag! Never bother me again! I'll never take you back so...begone!"

Rosalie shivered as goosebumps broke out across her arms. Rosalie rubbed her arms and wondered what Carrie was doing as she yelled curses, sounding like a bad Katty Perry song. "Buwhahaha!" Carrie cackled evilly and her pentagram necklace swung back and forth over her large chest. Rosalie looked at Carrie's cleavage and supposed the girl probably had D-cup sized breasts.

Rosalie swallowed. Her co-worker was so scary! With stiff robotic like steps Rosalie made her way towards the counter to greet Carrie. She mentally reminded herself that she had to be friendly. _Friendly. Friendly. Happy happy. Peppy peppy._ Rosalie chanted in her head. "Er, good evening." Rosalie said softly and tried not to look inside of the burning cauldron.

Carrie looked up from her cauldron and regarded Rosalie. "Oh hey, new girl. I'm sorry, what did you say your name was again?" Carrie quirked her head at the gloomy girl in a pensive manner.

"I never did...it's Rosalie. Rosalie Galloway." Rosalie mumbled.

"Well, nice to meet you, Rosalie." Carrie smiled and noticed Rosalie's nervous fidgeting and how she was eyeing the cauldron with a worried look on her face. Carrie held back a laugh. This girl seemed afraid of her own shadow!

"Are you perhaps cursing...me?" Rosalie asked finally, putting her fear into words.

"Huh?" Carrie burst out, laughing loudly, and smacked the counter with her hand repeatedly. "You?! Ahahaha! No! This is a banishing ritual that I'm using on my cheating ex-boyfriend Crow, er, his real name was Josh. This should stop him from trying to get back together with me."

"A banishing ritual..." Rosalie muttered, thinking about Dr. Cole and how much she'd love to banish him to the far corners of the Earth. "Does it work?"

Carrie's dark brown eyes sparkled, "Of course it does - as long as you _believe_. Do you have someone you want to banish?" Carrie asked, expecting the shy girl's answer to be 'no'.

"Yes." Rosalie said.

Carrie blinked and her jaw dropped open. "Huh? You do? Well..." Carrie pulled out her black shoulder bag that had a pattern of white skulls all over it. She unzipped her bag and began to rummage around inside of it. Carrie took out a piece of paper and a black permanent marker. "You just have to write the name of the man or woman you want to banish on the piece of paper for it to work."

Rosalie's hands were trembling as she took the items from Carrie. Rosalie uncapped the permanent marker and wrote Dr. Cole's name on the piece of paper. Once she was finished she recapped the marker, placed the piece of paper inside of the cauldron and struck a match. Rosalie held the match up high and prepared to toss it into the cauldron, but Carrie caught a hold of Rosalie's wrist stopping her.

"Wait. If you really want this banishing ritual to work you must pledge yourself to the Great Goddess."

Rosalie blinked and swallowed. "Okay..." _The Great Goddess...can't be all that different from the Virgin Mary. Right? I'm so going to hell for this..._

"If you're really serious about this and you pledge yourself to the Goddess...you must also be prepared to receive her _gifts_." Carrie warned ominously.

"Gifts?" Rosalie asked.

Carrie nodded, "The powers attributed to the Goddess: magic."

_Magic?_ Rosalie nodded, seriously. She was willing to pledge her soul to the devil himself if she had to if it meant she could be free from Dr. Cole's evil obsession!

Equally serious, Carrie lit a candle, which she set right next to the cauldron. "Then repeat after me...I, Rosalie Galloway, pledge my heart and soul to the Great Goddess and readily accept her gifts. I promise to only use my new powers for good and not for evil. I promise not to participate in any blood spilling, torture, or anything that brings harm to someone. So mote it be."

Rosalie swallowed nervously. "I, Rosalie Galloway, pledge my heart and soul to the Great Goddess and readily accept her gifts. I promise to only use my new powers for good and not for evil. I promise not to participate in any blood spilling, torture, or anything that brings harm to someone. So mote it be."

The lights inside of the 7-Eleven temporarily flickered once Rosalie was done with her pledge and she shivered as she looked around the convenience store warily. She pushed her broken glasses up her nose and hoped she wouldn't see any ghosts.

Carrie smiled knowingly and faced the entrance of the store. "Air! Guardian of the East, please protect and join our circle! Fire! Guardian of the South, please protect and join our circle! Water! Guardian of the West, please protect and join our circle! Earth! Guardian of the North, please protect and join our circle! We've already prayed to the Goddess and so now the banishing ritual can begin." Carrie gave Rosalie an expectant look.

Rosalie tossed the burning matching into the cauldron and watched as the piece of paper containing Dr. Cole's name on it began to burn. She silently prayed against Dr. Cole concentrating on all of her feelings of fear, and hatred against the psychopathic doctor.

I wish someone would save me from that perverted psycho! I wish someone would save me...I wish I had a hero by my side...I'm so tired of being alone...

_Bing._ The automatic sliding doors opened at that exact moment and a few customers stepped inside. Carrie quickly grabbed the cauldron and set it underneath the counter. Luckily, Carrie was wearing a pair of silk gloves and so the hot surface of the cauldron did not burn her hands.

"Welcome." Carrie greeted the customers casually as if she hadn't been performing witchcraft only seconds before.

"W-W-Welcome." Rosalie echoed nervously and then Rosalie looked up to see who had entered the 7-Eleven. Something that she thought could never happen even in her wildest dreams - happened.

Stepping through the sliding glass doors first was none other than Blake White. He was arm-in-arm with a petite blonde girl who Rosalie decided must be his girlfriend. Blake took Rosalie's breath away. He was even handsomer in person. To Rosalie, it looked like he had this golden aura shinning around him. He was dressed in a long, black leather trench coat that had lots of buckles and straps, a t-shirt, leather pants, and he had on a pair of lace-up combat boots.

Rosalie observed the cute young woman who had her arms wrapped around Blake's arm next. She was dressed like a rockstar. She had a blonde pixie cut with hot pink highlights and wide, bright blue eyes. She was wearing a pink tube top that had the image of a black skull with a crown on it, a short ruffled black skirt and a pair of black and white striped stockings. A pair of knee boots completed her look. She also had a spiked collar around her throat, and gloves with spikes on them.

_She's really cute._ Rosalie thought as she looked at the petite female rockstar clinging to Blake's arm possessively. Rosalie knew she could never pull off that kind of 'cute' look. She was too tall and lanky. And dark hair was never 'cute'. She also didn't have that cute little sloping nose that the most beautiful American girls were blessed with. Rosalie's nose was a bit longer and more European.

Rosalie frowned. _So Blake White likes cute girls like her. That must be his type. Not like I care..._

Another couple, entered the 7-Elven just behind Blake and Sadie. Rosalie recognized Devon Decayne - _Erotic Corpses_ ' lead guitarist but didn't know who the pretty blonde girl on his arm was. Just from the girl's expensive clothes and aura though Rosalie knew that she must be a celebrity. Devon was wearing his usual short black leather jacket that had spikes on its shoulders. Beneath his jacket he was wearing a dark blue t-shirt and was also wearing a pair of _Armani_ jeans. The blue t-shirt matched Devon's dark blue hair nicely.

The blonde-haired model on Devon's arm was wearing a tight, dark blue corset, a short red leather jacket, and a pair of jeans with a belt on it that had a sparkly skull-shaped buckle. She was wearing a pair of the popular mini boots to complete her look, and she had a pair of _Prada_ sunglasses on her face.

Rosalie couldn't believe it. She pinched her cheek since she had to be dreaming. "Ow." Rosalie muttered softly. Right before her very eyes was Blake White! It wasn't a dream! Someone that she never should have been able to meet was standing right in front of her. But what was he even doing in a place like this? Their worlds were too far apart. They should have never intersected.

Blake strut up to the counter and stood directly in front of Rosalie. " _Cinnamon Altoids_." He said simply without taking his eyes off of Sadie.

"Huh?" Rosalie murmured.

Blake turned his attention away from Sadie and looked at Rosalie...he took in her cat t-shirt, her messy black hair pulled into a ponytail and her nerdy, cracked, round glasses, and snorted in amusement. "Are you deaf or just retarded? Or maybe you're Mexican? Hablo Ingles?" Blake drawled in a condescending manner. Then he spoke more loudly and slowly to Rosalie. "I said I want some _Altoids_ \- cinnamon flavored." Blake tapped his boot impatiently on the linoleum floor.

"Er, right, sorry." Rosalie retrieved a tin of _Altoids_ from behind the counter and set it on the top of the counter next to the register. "Will that be everything, Blake, er, Sir?" Rosalie bit her bottom lip at her slipup. Damn, she wasn't supposed to know who he was! Maybe he wouldn't notice that he had been recognized...

But Blake did notice. Blake raised an eyebrow at Rosalie and smirked smugly. "So you know who I am? Well, of course you do. I'm Blake White. How could she _not_ know who I am? Right, babe?" Blake asked Sadie.

Sadie giggled and nodded. "Right, Blakey-poo."

_Blakey-poo? You have got to be kidding me._ Rosalie felt like rolling her eyes at Blake. "Anything else, Sir?" She repeated.

"No." Blake said shortly.

Rosalie quickly rang up the _Altoids_ using the cash register. "That will be one dollar and fifty cents, please."

Blake took out his wallet and handed Rosalie a hundred dollar bill. "D-D-Don't you have anything smaller, Sir?" Rosalie stuttered.

Carrie was watching the entire exchange silently from Rosalie's side with an amused look on her face. If she didn't know any better she'd say that Blake White was teasing Rosalie!

"Do I look like I'd carry anything lower?" Blake gave Rosalie an expectant look. "And hurry up, we don't have all night? Geez...she has got to be the slowest cashier I have ever encountered!"

Rosalie punched in the amount of $100.00 into the register. It showed that the appropriate change would be: $98.50. The register draw opened and she looked down at the little bit of money that was inside of it. She had known she wouldn't be able to break a hundred dollar bill. Rosalie chewed on her bottom lip nervously as she looked back up at Blake. "I'm really sorry, Sir, I can't break it." Rosalie explained and tried to hand the hundred dollar bill back to Blake.

Blake gave her hand a disgusted look as he noticed Rosalie's short, unpainted nails and slightly calloused hands. Frowning, Blake picked up the tin of _Altoids_ and began to open them. He popped a cinnamon _Altoid_ into his mouth without taking his eyes off of Rosalie. There was something oddly familiar about this poor girl...

"Keep the change, beggar girl. Why don't you go shopping and buy yourself some decent clothes. Or maybe get yourself a manicure. I've never seen a girl with more hideous looking nails." Blake sneered at Rosalie before he turned to Sadie. The singer put his hand behind Sadie's head and brought her forward for a passionate kiss.

Rosalie blushed at the indecent display. _Beggar girl? Keep the change! Grrr...Blake White is a total jerk!_

Rosalie's ideal image that she had created of Blake White in her head suddenly crumbled to pieces. She had envisioned Blake as being kind and polite...despite the whole violent rockstar image, of course, but she should have known better.

Rosalie noticed that as Blake was kissing Sadie he was looking at her out of the corner of his eye to see what her reaction would be! Rosalie blushed even more deeply and looked away! _What_ c _ompletely inappropriate behavior!_

Blake pushed the cinnamon _Altoid_ into Sadie's mouth with his tongue before pulling back and smirking. " _Cinnamon Altoids_ are the best for making out...and it's extremely pleasurable when your girlfriend has an _Altoid_ in her mouth while she's giving you a blowjob. Did you know that, beggar girl?" Blake leaned in to whisper in Rosalie's ear. "It makes it tingle..."

_Blowjob?_ Rosalie looked back at Blake with an appalled expression on her face. "That's...disgusting..." All men were perverted beasts! Rosalie thought as she remembered Dr. Cole's obvious arousal as he licked the lipstick off her lips over and over again. _I think I'm going to be sick..._

Without even realizing what she was doing Rosalie picked up a cup of _Coca-Cola_ that Carrie had been drinking and suddenly poured it right over Blake's head.

"Ahhh!" Sadie jumped backwards and away from Blake so that she wouldn't get _Coca-Cola_ on her expensive designer clothes.

Blake stood frozen in shock with _Coca-Cola_ dripping down his face. His platinum blonde hair was plastered to the sides of his face. No one had ever dared to do something like that to him! No one had ever stood up to him. No girl had ever treated him that way. He couldn't comprehend what had just happened. He gaped at Rosalie in shock - speechless.

After Rosalie snapped out of her daze of rage and disgust, and saw the soaking Blake White and the empty _Coca-Cola_ cup in her hand she inwardly panicked. _Oh my God, what did I just do?_ The empty cup fell from Rosalie's limp hand. She was horrified by her own actions. "I-I-I'm so sorry...I just..." Rosalie began to stutter.

Carrie was unable to hold back her laugher any longer and ended up laughing while gripping her sides that began to ache. "That was crazy, girl! The Goddess would be proud! That arrogant jerk needed to be taken down a couple of notches! Ahahaha!"

Carrie's cackling laughter seemed to snap Blake out of his stunned stupor. Angry fires blazed in his lavender eyes. Blake cracked his neck from side-to-side and cracked his knuckles as he approached Rosalie, who was still behind the counter.

"How dare you throw soda on me, beggar girl. Me! I'm Blake White! I'm going to beat the shit out of you!" Blake declared threateningly as he yelled in Rosalie's face.

Rosalie began to tremble in fear. Blake was being so scary. _Epp!_

Devon grabbed Blake by his shoulder and pulled him back, quickly putting Blake into an arm lock. "Chill man. You weren't really going to hit a girl were you?"

Blake let out a growl as he struggled against Devon's arm lock. "Let me the fuck go, Devon! Mind your own fucking business! That girl is so dead. No one has ever treated me this way! Let me at her! I'm going to kill her!" Blake roared.

Devon just sighed. Blake was always so overdramatic.

Blake glared daggers at Rosalie who flinched in response. His eyes were filled with so much anger and hatred. _Eppp! Men are scary._

Devon shook his head. "Tsk. Blake you're totally scaring the poor girl. Look, she's terrified. She thinks you're serious. We'd better go. Miss..." Devon looked at Rosalie's nametag. "Rosalie, I'm really sorry about all the trouble we've caused you. I'll remove this idiot from the premises immediately." Devon gave Rosalie a reassuring smile and a wink before he began to bodily drag the still struggling Blake from the 7-Eleven.

Rosalie watched this silently, still somewhat shocked. She felt eyes glaring at her and turned her attention to Sadie. But when Rosalie looked at the female rockstar the girl's attention was already on the departing forms of Devon and Blake.

"Ah! Devon! Blake! Wait for me! Don't leave me here alone in this dirty, cockroach infected place." Sadie complained as she skipped after them.

"Hey, wait for me too!" The female model complained as she ran after Devon in her four-inch tall mini boots.

Carrie looked at Rosalie who was still frozen in place and looking at the door where Blake, Devon, Sadie and the female model had just exited.

"Yo, Earth to Rosalie," Carrie said as she waved a hand in front of Rosalie's face. "You there? Yoohoo!"

Rosalie blinked. "Why...how...it's impossible...I never should have gotten to meet him. That was Blake White. What a weird coincidence..."

Carrie's black lips curled into a smile. "Hmmm, there is no such thing as coincidence - only fate." Carrie argued firmly. "You were meant to meet him."

Rosalie shook her head. "How can that be? I wish I had never gotten to meet him. Now I know that my favorite punk rock singer is a total arrogant jerk!"

"But maybe it wasn't Blake who fate was letting you meet. Maybe it was Devon Decayne. He helped you out in the end, didn't he? And he also winked at you." Carrie suggested, sagely. "I can't believe it looks like Sadie Skellington and Blake White are an item though. I mean, how the hell did _that_ happen?!"

"Sadie Skellington?" Rosalie questioned.

Carrie gave Rosalie an incredulous look. "You know, Sadie Skellington the lead singer of the heavy metal band: _The Necromancers_. They're the rival band of _Erotic Corpses_. Or at least that's what their lead guitarist is always saying. That's like sleeping with the enemy. Don't you watch TV?"

Rosalie shook her head. "I don't have the money for cable or even basic television programming. Do you know who the girl that was with Devon was?"

Carrie tapped her chin as she wracked her brain. "I think she's a model. I'm pretty sure I've seen her in _Vogue_ magazine, _Victoria's Secret_ magazine and even _Sports Illustrated_ before. I think her name is Melanie."

Rosalie looked down at the hundred dollar bill in her hand. _Prick._ She crumbled the bill in one hand. What right did he have to insult her? He didn't even know her...

_Beggar girl...buy some decent clothes._ Rosalie shook her head of such thoughts. Like hell she'd do that. She hated shopping. And Sadie had insulted their 7-Eleven saying it was dirty and cockroach infested! A gleam came to Rosalie's ice-blue eyes - if Blake and his friends ever came to that 7-Eleven again she'd make them eat those words!

"Carrie, handle the register. I'm going to sweep and mop this place until it sparkles!" Rosalie declared. _I'll show that arrogant jerk!_

Carrie looked amused by Rosalie's suddenly gung ho attitude. "Okay, sure. Have fun." Carrie agreed in a singsong voice as she stepped behind the register and opened up a Goth magazine to read while she waited for customers.

Meanwhile, Rosalie swept the entire floor of the 7-Eleven before mopping it thoroughly. Then she decided to dust all of the shelves and countertops with a ragged looking feather duster.

Carrie watched Rosalie work with wide eyes. Watching Rosalie clean so enthusiastically was more interesting than the magazine she was reading. Rosalie was such a hard worker and had so much energy. Carrie yawned. She was getting tired just from watching Rosalie clean! Not to mention the nightshift was already hard on a person's energy levels.

After a few hours, Rosalie had finally finished cleaning the entire 7-Eleven. She wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. _Alright! Now no one can call our 7-Eleven dirty! Take that Blake White and Sadie Skellington!_

This was how Rosalie passed her first night working at the 7-Eleven until seven in the morning. Over the next few days, Rosalie continued to work the nightshift at 7-Eleven without incident. She was very good at cleaning and so Carrie let Rosalie do all the cleaning while the Goth would handle dealing with the customers at the register. It was the perfect set up. Rosalie preferred working with as little human interaction as possible. She'd usually be in the back room taking inventory during her shift, restocking the coolers or receiving deliveries, so didn't have to deal with any of the customers.

Two weeks later, while Rosalie was taking inventory in the back room Carrie suddenly waltzed into the room having given one knock upon the door. "Yo Rosalie...you won't believe who's here. It's Blake White and his friends again. He says he won't let anyone but you ring up his purchases." Carrie crossed her arms over her ample chest and gave Rosalie an expectant look.

Rosalie dropped the canned soup she was about to put on a shelf in shock. "Huh? What?" Rosalie froze not believing what she was hearing.

"Come on, girl, hurry up." Carrie grabbed Rosalie by the arm and pulled her out of the back room.

Rosalie wanted to resist but Carrie was still pretty scary. _Someone save me._ Rosalie thought to herself as she was dragged out into the 7-Eleven and behind the counter.

As Rosalie entered behind the counter Blake White's lavender colored eyes never left her. He noticed that she was wearing yet another cat themed t-shirt. This one was all black and had large golden cat eyes on it, and the words ' _Cat Lover_ ' in white letters were at the bottom of the shirt. He snorted. _So the girl still hasn't bought herself any decent clothes even with the hundred dollar bill I left her. Idiot._

Rosalie stood behind the counter and looked down at the items that Blake had selected. Rosalie's eye twitched. Blake had put a dozen boxes of _Trojan Ecstasy Fire and Ice_ condoms down on the counter. Size: Large. He had also purchased various lotions, a bottle of baby oil, several tins of _Cinnamon Altoids_ and a few cans of whipped cream.

Blake gave Rosalie an expectant look, waiting for her explosion. "Have you ever tried Fire and Ice?" Blake asked as he put his arm around Sadie's shoulders suggestively. "We find it increases the enjoyment of the experience. It makes everything..." Blake leaned forward and breathed in Rosalie's ear. "Tingle."

Rosalie turned beet red and began to ring up Blake's items as swiftly as possible. She quickly stuffed all of his purchases into two plastic bags and handed the bags to Blake. "Will that be all, Sir?" Rosalie asked in an indifferent tone.

Blake frowned, feeling disappointed. He had expected to get a rise out of the prudish looking Rosalie with this latest ploy. "Che...how boring." Blake groused and handed Rosalie a hundred dollar bill. "Keep the change, beggar girl."

When Sadie had her back turned, Blake leaned over the counter and placed his lips quickly to Rosalie's. He pulled back just as quickly and gave Rosalie a knowing smirk. Rosalie had been stunned into stillness. Her lips tingling.

Dr. Cole had 'technically' been her first kiss but since it had been forced upon her and had been awful...Rosalie decided to consider this stolen kiss from Blake White as her first kiss. Even though it had also been stolen it had not been...unpleasant. Rosalie smiled softly to herself. _Blake White just kissed me._ _I must be dreaming. Not that I liked it or anything. Blake is a total jerk._

Blake handed Sadie the bags in an imperious gesture when the female rockstar questioningly turned back around to face Blake, and the couple turned to leave. But then Blake turned around again as if on an afterthought. "Oh, right, you're my fan so I brought you something." Blake reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a CD case. He tossed it onto the counter in front of Rosalie in a careless manner.

Rosalie curiously reached out and picked up the CD case. It was _Erotic Corpses_ ' latest album: _Buried Alive_. The CD cover had a picture of four coffins on it. The CD cover had also been autographed by Blake.

To Beggar Girl,

I hope you enjoy my new CD!

Love (a tiny heart)

Xoxoxo

Blake White

"Be honored. It's my latest album. I even signed it. You should be getting down on your hands and knees and thanking me - that I, Blake White, decided to give the likes of you an autographed CD." Blake boasted and laughed.

Rosalie's hands began to tremble. She couldn't believe this. Blake had given _her_ a signed copy of his latest album. It was the one that contained the song: _Zombie Awakening_ that had helped her get through some pretty hard times in her life recently. She had never gotten a present except from her father before. And how had Blake known that _today_ was her birthday? She hadn't even planned on celebrating it. Rosalie looked up, her ice-blue eyes swirling with emotion and offered the singer a sincere smile. "Thank you."

Blake noticed Rosalie's shaking hands and wondered if he had gotten her angry enough that she would snap at him again. But then she looked up at him, smiled, and thanked him. He was completely caught off guard by this unexpected response. He was being such a jerk after all...

_She has a nice smile._ Blake found himself thinking. _It makes her look a little less homely._ _I wonder what she looks like without those hideous glasses._

Blake shook his head from such thoughts. "Keh, no problem, beggar girl. Let's go guys." Feathers ruffled, Blake stomped out of the 7-Eleven with his friends trailing along behind him.

"Geez, wait up, Blakey-poo! These bags are heavy!" Sadie raised up the bags and complained, a lit cigarette dangling between her lips.

"I'd be happy to carry them for you, Sadie." Devon offered.

Sadie gave Devon an irritated look before running after Blake. "It was nice seeing you again, Rosalie. I hope you enjoy the CD and _my_ guitar playing." Devon threw Rosalie a wink and a salute as he left.

Carrie, a Chesire grin plastered on her face, walked over to peer over Rosalie's shoulder at the CD case. "An autographed CD..." Carrie hummed. "He must like you. And don't think I didn't see that stolen kiss."

That snapped Rosalie out of her stupor. "Don't be stupid. He couldn't possibly like someone like me. He probably did it as a joke. The CD is probably blank. We're from completely different worlds. Besides, he has Sadie."

"Hmmm," Carrie shrugged, "If you say so. I still think he likes you."

"You're crazy." Rosalie snapped, but why were butterflies fluttering madly in her stomach? She couldn't wait to get home and try the CD in her boom box.

The hours seemed crawl by that night as Rosalie waited for her shift to end. Finally, it ended and after giving her last customer his cup of coffee Rosalie all but flew out of the 7-Eleven. She ran breathlessly the rest of the way to her apartment building, which was just a few blocks away. She entered the building taking the stairs up to the fifth floor two at a time. The medium made her way down the hall and impatiently jammed her key into her door's lock. When she opened the door to her apartment, she flicked on a light switch and rushed inside. Locking the door behind her she ignored her cats as they tried to greet her, and instead ran over to her boom box.

Rosalie sunk to her knees in front of the boom box and took out the CD case. She opened it and saw that on the actual CD the image of _Erotic Corpses_ dressed up and looking like zombie corpses with their eyes closed and with their arms crossed over their chests had been put on the CD. Rosalie thought that was pretty cool and closed the CD case again to look at the coffins before opening the CD case up again to see what the band looked like inside of the coffins. The medium shook her head as she put the CD inside of the player and pressed play. Rosalie crossed her fingers, hoping with all her heart that the CD wasn't blank. The CD began to play...

A drumbeat started followed by the electric guitar and then the bass guitar kicked in. After a few opening measures Blake's voice floated out of the speakers and filled Rosalie's lonely apartment with his deep, sexy, raspy, baritone voice.

Rosalie let out a girlish sigh. _Blake's voice is so sexy._

Soon Rosalie was singing along with Blake and picking up her cats to dance around the apartment with them. She had fun dancing with her cats. She would hold Lucky by his waist and lift him up and down, making it look like he was dancing as his hind legs touched the floor.

After Rosalie wore herself out with dancing and singing, she collapsed to the floor and inspected the CD cover. She pulled it out to read it and a slip of paper fell out of the CD cover. Rosalie blinked and picked it up curiously. Her eyes widened like saucers: it was a thousand dollar Gift Certificate for the _Armani_ store on Rodeo Drive - the most popular shopping area in Beverly Hills.

$1,000 US Dollars.

Rosalie paled and the Gift Certificate fell from her limp fingers. A note was also inside the CD cover and it fell to the floor next:

Go buy something nice, beggar girl. I don't want to see you in another cat lover t-shirt when I go to my 7-Eleven next time. And make sure to stock up on Fire and Ice condoms because I plan on buying them all.

Rosalie got over her stunned stupor and picked up the Gift Certificate with trembling fingers. She had never had so much spending money before in all her life. _Oh my God, this is so much money. I can't possibly accept this. Is Blake crazy? I don't even know where this Armani store is located._ She figured she'd ask Carrie tomorrow night if she knew where the _Armani_ store was located - that is if she managed to find the nerve to approach the scary Goth girl with such a question.

***

The following night at 7-Eleven, during Rosalie's shift she scrounged up the courage to ask Carrie where the store _Armani_ was located. Carrie was busy painting tiny white skulls on top of her already black fingernails with a tiny detail nailbrush when Rosalie approached the intimidating girl. "Um, excuse me, Carrie?" Rosalie began nervously, shifting from foot to foot.

Carrie looked up at Rosalie and arched an eyebrow at the soft-spoken girl. "Yes?"

Rosalie took out the Gift Certificate Blake had given her. "Do you know where this store is located?" Rosalie handed the Gift Certificate to Carrie.

Carrie took it and looked at it absentmindedly until her eyes popped out of her head comically when she saw the amount the Gift Certificate was for. "Holy Goddess! A thousand bucks?! _Armani_? You have got to be shitting me. Rosalie, where did you get this?"

Rosalie flinched at Carrie's overly loud voice. "I...er...it was inside the CD cover..."

Carrie gave Rosalie a knowing look. "Ah, I see, so Blake gave this to you. I told you he likes you. It's fate." Carrie teased as she poked the shy girl in the arm.

"Shut up...so do you know where the store is located?" Rosalie asked again.

Carrie nodded. "Rodeo Drive. Duh."

"Rodeo Drive?" Rosalie asked.

Carrie gave Rosalie a disbelieving look. "Don't tell me you've never been to Rodeo Drive? Oh my Goddess, seriously, girl, you need to get out more! Hmmm." Carrie tapped her chin in thought. "Well, we're free during the day tomorrow so why don't we meet up here at three in the afternoon after we've both gotten a bit of sleep, and I'll take you to Rodeo Drive. How's that sound?"

Rosalie gave Carrie a grateful look. Maybe she had misjudged Carrie and maybe the Goth wasn't such a scary person after all. "Good. Thank you."

A Cheshire cat smile formed on Carrie's black-painted lips as she slung her arm over Rosalie's shoulders. "Oh, it won't be for free, my dear Rosalie."

Then again, maybe not. _Carrie's, so scary!_

"You're going to share that Gift Certificate with me! I've never even gotten to step foot inside the _Armani_ store before. _Ooo._ This is going to be great. _Armani_ uses a lot of black. And black is my favorite color in case you haven't noticed." Carrie explained, enthusiastically.

Rosalie smiled. "Black isn't a color."

After their shift ended to two girls returned to their homes to get some well-needed rest before they would meet up again later that afternoon. Rosalie set her alarm to go off at two o'clock PM. When it went off she awoke, got showered and dressed. She chose to wear a cat t-shirt, a pair of faded jeans, and sneakers. She pulled her wild hair back into a tight ponytail and put her round glasses on her face.

She fed her cats and then tried to make herself a late lunch. But making lunch when you had five mischievous and hungry cats is no easy task. Rosalie tried to make some scrambled eggs and two pieces of toast, but the cats licked the egg shells after Rosalie had cracked them and knocked them off the counter. When Rosalie bent over to clean the mess up by the time she turned back around Lucky had already stolen one of her pieces of toast. With a heavy sigh and a half-empty stomach, Rosalie left her tiny apartment.

Rosalie made her way to the 7-Eleven and once she had arrived looked down at her watch. It was 2:45. She was a tad early, so she just stood and waited for Carrie to arrive. About ten minutes later, Rosalie heard the sound of an approaching motorcycle. Rosalie looked up and saw Carrie riding a sports bike. Carrie pulled up right in front of Rosalie whose jaw had dropped to the ground.

Carrie was wearing a purple lace-up corset, a pair of black leather pants, and a pair of knee-high, lace-up boots. Her purple locks were pulled back into a ponytail and she had a pair of dark sunglasses on her face. Her sports bike was purple, black and silver. "Hey girl, hurry up and get on." Carrie greeted Rosalie with a wave.

Rosalie just stared back at Carrie in shock. Carrie wanted her to get on a bike?! _Epp!_ Rosalie had never been on a bike before.

"What the hell are you doing just standing there like an idiot? Get on." Carrie reiterated.

"Er, alright." Rosalie murmured as she carefully got behind Carrie on the KTM and wrapped her arms around Carrie's waist.

This made Carrie laugh. "You've never been on a bike before have you? Well, you better hold on tight then!" Carrie said before she revved her bike's engine and started off - burning rubber and tearing down the road at high speed.

Rosalie squeaked and tightened her hold around Carrie's waist. _I'm going to die. Someone please save me._ Rosalie thought morosely. The gloomy girl wanted to scream but her throat felt restricted. She wondered why she always had so much trouble expressing what she was feeling. Rosalie shut her eyes.

The bike ride felt like it had taken hours but it had only been about fifteen minutes before Carrie was already pulling up right in front of the _Armani_ store. At this point Rosalie was trembling violently. She still had her eyes shut tight and her arms wrapped around Carrie's waist for dear life.

"Hey, we're here. You can get off now." Carrie said and noticed that Rosalie was trembling and suddenly felt bad. "Hey, you okay? I'm sorry...I didn't mean to scare you..."

Rosalie slowly opened her eyes and took a deep breath. She gathered her inner strength and shook her head. "No, I'm alright." Rosalie said as she shakily dismounted from the bike. Carrie dismounted too and had to catch Rosalie when she almost fell over since her legs were like jelly.

Experiencing things in _real life_ was really so different than experiencing them in a book. It was... _intense_. Rosalie thought to herself.

Rosalie looked up and her breath was taken away by the prestigious looking store. The exterior was all glass and cement, and the overall design was very modern. There were a few palm trees outside giving the area a tropical feel. Rosalie regretted having her eyes closed for most of the ride here since as she turned around and got to see more of Rodeo Drive, she realized just how stunning the place was. Fancy designer stores lined Rodeo Drive on either side of the street and palm trees stood tall and swaying in the center of the two-lane road.

Carrie held Rosalie's hand as the Goth girl helped Rosalie into the _Armani_ store. Rosalie looked down at her hand in surprise. That was the first time someone had ever held her hand before...besides her father.

Rosalie's grip tightened around Carrie's hand and she smiled. Maybe this was what it was like to have a friend.

As the gloomy girl and the Goth girl entered the Armani store they were immediately greeted by the sight of racks and racks of beautiful, expensive clothes. Clothes were everywhere, piled on tables, on shelves and on manikins. A lot of the clothing was black, white and pastel colored. The designs were edgy and sophisticated.

Rosalie's eyes widened as she looked around the beautiful store. She took a step forward, however-

A stern-faced store clerk stood in Rosalie's path. The woman was tall (taller than Rosalie even), with cold gray-blue eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail and Rosalie looked at her straight, thick, blonde hair enviously. She was dressed in a knee-length, black Armani dress with a pair of black high-heeled shoes on her petite feet. Rosalie thought she looked extremely classy.

"I'm sorry but I think you're in the wrong store." The store clerk began as she looked Rosalie up and down from head-to-toe - taking in her scuffed sneakers, frayed jeans with holes in the knees, the silly cat t-shirt with Garfield on it, the round, cracked glasses on Rosalie's face and her messy black hair.

Rosalie froze. "I, er, I'm sorry-" Rosalie started but Carrie shoved past her angrily.

"We're in exactly the right place, you anorexic blonde bimbo. My friend here has a $1,000 dollar Gift Certificate that her friend Blake White (perhaps you've heard of him?) gave her to spend in this store. I would hate to think what would happen if Blake told the press the _Armani_ store was rude to a friend of his!" Carrie warned, jabbing her finger into the store clerk's chest.

The store clerk paled. She knew Blake White - he was a frequent customer and patron of the _Armani_ store. She even remembered when he had purchased that thousand-dollar gift certificate to give a friend. She had assumed it was for Sadie Skellington but she guessed she had been wrong.

"Oh, of course, my apologies, my mistake. Do come in. Can I assist you...ladies with finding anything in particular today?" The store clerk asked, trying hard to get back into her appropriate sales mode.

"Pfft." Carrie snorted and looked the blonde store clerk over from head-to-toe. "I don't think we need your help. We'll end up looking like a couple of old hags. You obviously don't know anything about fashion. We'll help ourselves - thank you very much. Hmph!" Carrie flipped her violet hair and sauntered into the _Armani_ store as if she owned the place.

Rosalie looked after her Goth friend in awe. She wished she could be as aggressive as Carrie was. That had been just awesome! Rosalie smiled softly as she followed after Carrie with shuffling footsteps.

Carrie began to browse through the racks of clothes with a critical eye and began to select several pieces for Rosalie and herself to try on. Carrie tossed the clothes at Rosalie over her shoulder and Rosalie fumbled to catch the expensive clothes nervously.

Once Carrie could no longer see Rosalie's face, Carrie decided they had enough pieces of clothing to try on and dragged Rosalie to the dressing rooms. The two girls tried on various outfits - most of which Rosalie felt extremely uncomfortable in, and ultimately it was Carrie who decided on the outfits they ended up buying.

Carrie and Rosalie made their way to the checkout counter with armfuls of clothes and Rosalie paid with her Gift Certificate. She actually ended up having about $30 left over which the cashier gave to Rosalie in cash.

The two girls left the Armani store happily, and Carrie drove Rosalie back to her apartment. Carrie's eyes widened at the dangerous area Rosalie apparently lived in and the run down apartment building that Rosalie pointed out and explained was where she lived.

Rosalie dismounted from the bike, shopping bags in hand. "Thanks for the lift, Carrie."

"Anytime...are you sure you'll be okay?" Carrie gave the apartment building a suspicious look. It looked pretty haunted. "I could perform an exorcism on this place or...a purification ritual. All we would need is some salt."

Rosalie smiled and shook her head. "I'll be fine. This is my home..."

"Okay...you know that cute black and white striped dress I chose for you. I want you to wear it tomorrow, okay? For once I want to see you looking cute. If Blake and his girlfriend show up they'll be shocked by how good you look in that dress!" Carrie insisted.

Rosalie bit her lip nervously as she thought about the little black dress with thick, white vertical stripes on it that Carrie was referring to - it was a nice dress but it was awfully tight and short too. "I dunno..."

Carrie frowned at Rosalie. "If you don't wear that dress tomorrow I'll stop considering you my friend!"

"Friend...?" Rosalie asked shyly. Did Carrie really think of them as being friends?

"Of course! We're friends aren't we?" Carrie smiled brightly and Rosalie wondered how she was able to do that when she had her face painted white and her lips painted black. She was definitely the most cheerful Goth she had ever met! "So wear that dress! C-yas!" Carrie said before she sped away on her bike.

_Friends._ Rosalie smiled wistfully to herself. A tiny skip to her step, she made her way back to her apartment.

Maybe Carrie was right, maybe Blake would come to their squeaky clean 7-Eleven tomorrow night. What could possibly go wrong? It was just a dress...

### Chapter 3: Waiting Room

The next day, Rosalie woke in the up late afternoon, showered, washed her face, brushed her teeth, dressed, made coffee and fed her cats. Then she made herself a slice of toast for a late lunch. Her fridge was running low on food but with the rent bill coming up she didn't have a dime to spare.

After Lucky stole a bite, she pulled out her book _Exile_ and began to kill time reading until her nightshift started at eleven o'clock that night. Rosalie read and napped the entire day until finally 10:45 rolled around when Rosalie was out the door and on her way to 7-Eleven. She had dressed in her new _Armani_ dress but she felt utterly ridiculous in it. She didn't have the right shoes...and was wearing her scuffed job-hunting shoes with low heels. She knew the outfit would look better if she wasn't wearing her glasses but since she couldn't see a thing without them she put them on anyways.

The black _Armani_ tube dress was knee-length and had thick vertical white stripes running down it. The dress was very tight and formfitting. Three inches above the knee - this was probably the shortest dress Rosalie had ever worn! She self-consciously kept pulling the back of the dress down worried that her underwear might be showing.

Rosalie speed-walked the few blocks to the 7-Eleven and kept her head down self-consciously. She could feel eyes upon her and didn't want to look up and see peoples' disgusted looks and sneers.

Rosalie chewed on her lower lip. _This was such a bad idea._ Rosalie inwardly moaned. _I can't believe Carrie convinced me to wear this dress. I feel so...uncomfortable in it. I don't feel like myself at all! I probably look like a complete idiot._

Rosalie finally reached the 7-Eleven and took a deep breath before she entered. Was it just her imagination or had some random guy whistled at her as he drove out of the 7-Eleven parking lot. _Naw..._

It was 10:58 when Rosalie entered the 7-Eleven and Carrie was already standing behind the counter. She had a large, thick book open out in front of her. It looked like an ancient spell book. Rosalie didn't know it but it was indeed a spell book: Carrie's _Book of Shadows_. Rosalie shuddered and made a mental note to never piss Carrie off.

Carrie looked up at the 'bing' sound the automatic sliding doors made when someone entered the 7-Eleven. Carrie's jaw dropped as she looked Rosalie over. The Wicca witch had threatened the shy, timid, bookworm-ish, frumpy girl to wear the dress but she didn't actually believe that Rosalie would have the guts to do it! Perhaps, she had underestimated Rosalie.

Rosalie's wild black hair had been freed from its usual ponytail and so hung in loose chaotic waves around her face, shoulders and down her back.

The _Armani_ dress showed off Rosalie's slender figure, her size C-cup breasts, and her long, skinny legs. With Rosalie's height and weight she could have easily been a model, Carrie determined. But those nerdy, round glasses would have to go! And her shoes...were _so_ wrong. But other than that Rosalie looked smoking hot!

"Mmhm." Carrie hummed happily as she propped her chin on her hand and looked Rosalie over with a critical eye. "I knew you were hiding curves under those baggy t-shirts of yours! You look great, Rosalie!"

Rosalie looked up at Carrie, flushed with embarrassment and frowned. "I feel...like a slut. This dress is too short...you would think that with all the money we paid for this dress that they wouldn't skimp out on the material." Rosalie groused.

Carrie laughed at the silly comment. "Hun. That's what we girls today call 'fashion'. The shorter the better, these days." Carrie shrugged.

Rosalie continued to frown. "It's totally indecent. I can't bear to be seen like this. I look like a prostitute. I'm going to go and do inventory." Rosalie declared as she stomped her way to the back room.

Carrie watched Rosalie go, incredulously. " _Rosalie._ " Carrie whined. "That's such a waste! No hot guys will see you back there!"

"That's the idea!" Rosalie called back over her shoulder. "Geesh..." Rosalie entered the back room and let out a sigh of relief. " _Phew._ " She felt much better and more herself when she was alone. She didn't feel like she was pretending to be someone she wasn't.

Rosalie began to take inventory and was bent over with her butt in the air when her manager Chuck entered the back room to check on her.

Chuck periodically went to the 7-Eleven during the girls' nightshift to see how they were handling things and to make sure they weren't slacking off. He had been surprised and pleased when he had encountered Rosalie cleaning up a storm. It meant less work for him.

Chuck sure had a surprise when he entered the back room to find Rosalie in a short black and white striped dress, bent over so that he could see her blue underwear! Chuck allowed himself to enjoy the view for a few minutes before he cleared his throat loudly. "Ahem."

Rosalie immediately stood straight and turned around to face her boss. "Manager Chuck, good evening." Rosalie greeted nervously.

Chuck looked Rosalie over, noticing her curves and nice figure for the very first time. "Yea, good evening...what's the occasion? You going somewhere special? You have a date?"

Rosalie blinked. "Oh, no, Carrie made me wear this. I bet it looks stupid, huh?" Rosalie fidgeted self-consciously with her fingers.

Chuck let out a grunt and stepped closer to get a better look at Rosalie. "I think it looks pretty good on you. In fact, I think you're looking pretty smoking hot, Rosalie..." Chuck said as he reached his hand out towards her face to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Rosalie instantly panicked remembering how Dr. Cole had run this thumb over her lips before then slapping her.

"No! Don't touch me!" Rosalie cried out and smacked Chuck's hand away.

Chuck put his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "Whoa, sorry, I just thought...since you were dressed like that, that maybe you..."

But before Chuck could finish, Carrie burst through the door to the back room. She looked around frantically and caught sight of Chuck and Rosalie who was trembling...and her brown eyes flashed with anger.

"You...pervert!" Carrie declared as she took out her taser that had been hidden in the cleavage of her breasts and charged towards Chuck.

Chuck shot Carrie a fearful look and put his hands up even higher. "Ah, Carrie, it's not what you think...I wasn't-" Chuck tried to explain but Carrie wasn't listening to his explanations.

"Perverted pig! How dare you touch my friend?" Carrie shouted as she jabbed her taser into Chuck's beer belly and turned it on.

ZAP. Chuck cried out as the taser zapped him and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he lost consciousness falling back to the floor with a loud thud.

Carrie turned to check over Rosalie. The gloomy girl still looked very shook up and she was still trembling. "Hey, Rosalie, are you okay?"

But Rosalie wasn't listening. She was currently trapped inside a haunting memory. Rosalie trembled in fear and tears filled her eyes as she remembered what Dr. Cole had done to her. She had never felt so alone and so helpless in all her life that day. But she was at work and she had to remain professional. She couldn't just break down and start crying in the 7-Eleven storage room.

"Rosalie? Hey Rosalie!" Carrie called out to her friend.

Rosalie looked up at Carrie finally and nodded shakily. "Yea...I'm okay. He didn't do anything..." Rosalie looked down at the unconscious Chuck feeling a little guilty. Rosalie looked back up at Carrie and looked at the taser. "A taser? You're just like Lisbeth Salander." Rosalie couldn't help but smile crookedly at her feisty friend.

Carrie laughed and stuck the taser back into her cleavage. "I loved that movie! Anyways, you don't look so hot, Rosalie. Maybe you should go home early? I'll tell Chuck you were here the whole time once he wakes up."

"When he wakes up...won't he be angry with you...?" Rosalie asked nervously, tapping the tips of her index fingers together, an apologetic look on her face. She hated that she was causing Carrie trouble.

Carrie snorted and waved her hand dismissively at Chuck. "I'm not afraid of Tubby there. Besides, I'm pretty sure he's afraid of me." Carrie grinned.

Rosalie smiled softly. "You're amazing Carrie." Rosalie let out a long sigh. She felt emotionally drained. She decided she would go home and rest. "I think I will go home now. Thank you, Carrie." Rosalie agreed and left the 7-Eleven.

It was 12:30 at night as Rosalie began to walk down the sidewalk in the direction of her apartment building that was a few blocks away. It was pitch black out and there were only a few unbroken streetlamps lit along her way. She looked around and noticed that there weren't any other people around. She was all alone. She shivered. She was all alone in the hood and wearing this skanky dress. She had forgotten to bring her gun with her too and she was feeling vulnerable.

Rosalie suddenly felt eyes upon her from the shadows. Someone was watching her. She could feel it...but who? Rosalie gulped, a chill going down her spine, and a trickle of sweat went down her back.

Rosalie began to tremble. She couldn't stand this. She had to get out of there. Rosalie quickened her pace as she continued her way down the sidewalk until she was almost running. Rosalie turned a corner and realized her mistake immediately since this block didn't have a single working streetlamp. It really was pitch black. Rosalie looked up and saw that the hazy, gray, cloud filled sky was blocking out the moonlight.

She could hear heavy footsteps behind her now. She frowned, in fact there were multiple footsteps. But Rosalie didn't dare to turn around and see who was following her.

***

Meanwhile, at the same time, the arrogant rockstar, Blake White, was in his limo making his limo driver, Harper, drive the singer around the hood. Blake was _so_ totally bored. The singer had threatened Harper earlier that evening with firing him if he didn't take Blake to the hood so that they could drive around looking for adventure or as Harpet like to think of it: trouble. Blake enjoyed getting into street fights and even if the cops showed up, Blake could make any charges against him go away with his millions.

Having just watched the latest batman movie: _The Dark Knight Rises_ , Blake was curious about what it would feel like to be a vigilante, and so tonight in the back of his mind, instead of just finding some badasses to pick a fight with, Blake was hoping he could save someone. Just for fun. Just for the hell of it. He was Blake White. He could handle it.

Blake had a black belt in _karate_ , and a personal Japanese martial arts _sensei_ , Ren Yoshida. Thirteen years ago, Blake's parents, Pearl and Atlas White, had died in a mysterious fire that had consumed the family's mansion in Beverly Hills. The death of his celebrity parents had been reported as an accident, but Blake knew the truth. He remembered having entered the mansion, going to the living room, and seeing the burning bodies of his parents lying on the floor. He also vaguely remembered a figure standing over them and grinning like a madman. Unfortunately, Blake had passed out soon after because of the smoke, and couldn't remember anything else. But Blake was convinced it was a murder because of this.

The best friend of his father, William Wraythe, had taken Blake in after the incident and raised Blake as his own son. Blake confided to William about his suspicions that his parents' deaths were not an accident but a murder, and William had expressed his desire to help Blake solve this mystery. Blake vowed to solve the case and find his parents' murderer, and when he did he wanted to be strong enough to kill them with his own two hands. Because of this the singer had been training in the martial arts since the age of twelve. Everything he did in life was for his revenge. If he ever did encounter his parents' murderer - he would kill them and avenge his parents.

Harper let out a heavy sigh that Blake couldn't hear through the glass. Harper definitely wasn't too happy about this. When his arrogant boss made him drive around the hood looking for trouble, he was worried that a stray bullet would hit _him_. _Who's looking out for my ass is what I want to know._ Harper inwardly complained. Blake White was bound to get Harper into trouble. _Spoiled, arrogant, shitty rockstar..._

Harper pressed a button and the glass that separated from front of the limo from the back lowered so that he could speak to his boss. "Mr. White, are you really sure you want to do this?" Harper questioned again, through gritted teeth. _I'm not getting paid enough for this bullshit. Well, maybe I am. I have a six-figure salary, but...I might end up getting shot because of this spoiled brat! And then I won't even get to enjoy all the money I get for putting up with this jerk..._

"Yea, I'm sure, Henry. Don't make me repeat myself for like the 100th time. Geez..." Blake wanted to stop a bank robbery or...help some girl in distress. Something like that would probably make the headlines the next day and be very good publicity. Blake looked out the window and sighed. He knew it was highly unlikely to encounter a crime at random like this. It's not like he could expect to find some girl randomly in trouble and come to her rescue while getting to put his martial arts skills to good use. Life wasn't so convenient. What were the odds to be in the right place at the right time? Dreadfully low.

Just as Blake was thinking this thought, the singer spotted a young woman dressed in an obviously expensive, designer, black and white dress being followed by a group of three African-American guys. The men were dressed like hoodlums in beanies, hoodies, ripped jeans, were wearing flashy gold chains around their neck and had glimmering earrings. Blake could tell the gold chains and earrings were actually real meaning these were true gangsters and not just posers or kids.

Blake's eyes widened and he smirked. "You have got to be shitting me. A damsel in distress actually appears. Sweet. Henry, pull over." Blake commanded, imperiously.

Harper's ever present scowl deepened. "Are you certain you want to do this, Mr. White? You don't even know her..."

"Hell yea, I'm sure. Now hurry the fuck up and pull over, idiot." Blake groused.

"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir." Harper sighed as he pulled the limo over.

Blake hopped out of the limo and began to approach the hoodlums, a feral glint in his lavender colored eyes. This was going to be fun.

***

Rosalie could sense that the people following her were right behind her and then just as she was passing an alleyway an arm shot out and grabbed her - a hand coming over her mouth. _Ahhh!_ Rosalie internally screamed as the unknown man pulled her into the darkness of the alleyway.

The three men who were pursuing her also turned into the alley to meet up with their friend. The three men blocked the exit of the alley with their bodies, standing side-by-side. A flickering street lamp shone enough light into the alley so that Rosalie could see the three men approaching her.

"You got her, Bill? Good. She's not even resisting." One of the men spoke up as he approached. Rosalie couldn't see the young man's face since his purple beanie was pulled down extremely low and shadowed his expression.

"Look at that expensive dress. She must be loaded." Another of the men was rubbing his hands together with an eager expression on his face.

"Hurry up and check her purse." Beanie instructed. "She's got to have some credit cards in there." Beanie waved his hand forward and the man next to him, who was wearing a baseball cap, strode forward. He yanked Rosalie's purse off her arm and tipped her purse upside down so that an old hairbrush and an old leather wallet fell out. The thug leaned over, picked up the wallet, and opened it - a single white moth flew out and took off into the night sky heading towards the flickering street lamp.

Baseball Cap held Rosalie's wallet upside down and shook it. "This white bitch doesn't have any money on her. She must have left it at home. Shit." The man tossed the wallet angrily aside.

"Are we going to let her go?" One of the other young men asked Beanie. This gangster was wearing a dark blue hoodie.

Beanie looked Rosalie over from head-to-toe, taking in her curves and short dress. He licked his puffy lips. "And let that nice booty go to waste? She's not even making a peep. Let's have some fun boys. We'll take turns. Keep on holding her, Bill."

Beanie and Hoodie chuckled in response.

Rosalie paled. _Fun?_ These men were going to rape her?

Bill still had one hand covering her mouth but his other free hand began to slide down Rosalie's side, down to her waist and then down towards her crotch. His touch felt revolting.

Rosalie was rocketed back to her traumatic experience with Dr. Cole. _NO!_ She inwardly screamed and bit down on Bill's finger with all her strength.

"Ah! Fucking bitch bit me!" Bill exclaimed as he let go of Rosalie out of reflex and grasped his now bleeding hand in pain.

_Run Rosalie, run!_ Rosalie thought to herself as she ran forward towards the exit of the alleyway. However, the three delinquents blocked her path as she tried to get past them. Rosalie tried to look for an opening but they spread their arms out to their sides and jeered and catcalled at her.

"Where do you think you're going, sweetie?" Baseball Cap asked.

"Guess I was wrong. She _is_ a fighter...she's got some spunk." Beanie chuckled darkly.

"This will be good..." Hoodie rubbed his hands together in expectation. Rosalie noticed the diamond earrings glinting in his ears.

"Careful, she's a biter..." Bill warned his friends.

_That's right. If they stick it in my mouth I'll bite it off!_ Rosalie thought to herself ferociously as she glared at the delinquents with ice-blue eyes filled with hate.

The thugs could sense her animosity, however, and began to look worried.

"Guess, we just won't put anything important close to her mouth then, but her pussy should be just fine." Beanie decided.

_NO!_ Rosalie tried to push her way past the men again, but Beanie grabbed her arm and slammed her up against the brick wall of one of the buildings that made up the alleyway. Rosalie lashed out blindly with her short nails but Beanie quickly pinned both of Rosalie's hands above her head with one of his large calloused hands wrapping around her wrists.

Beanie's friends cheered at their friend's success in entrapping Rosalie.

Rosalie's ice-blue eyes burned as they began to fill up with tears. _My life really is cursed._ _Why me? What did I do to deserve this? God...someone...help..._

She knew she should cry out for help but her voice was lodged in her throat. "H-H-Help me..." Rosalie squeaked softly.

"What was that bitch? I couldn't hear you?" Beanie mocked, cupping his free hand to his ear in a mocking gesture, and leaning towards Rosalie's mouth.

"Someone, please help me..." Rosalie murmured in an equally low tone.

The gangsters all laughed loudly at Rosalie's plight. "No one will hear your pathetic little cry for help. Now, let's see what white girl's got on under her expensive dress..." Beanie purred as he reached his hand out towards the front of Rosalie's dress, prepared to simply rip the front of her dress off. However-

"I heard her cry for help loud and clear, dumbasses." Came a pissed off sounding voice.

A sudden hand on Beanie's wrist stopped him from ripping Rosalie's dress open. Beanie was suddenly yanked backwards and he had no choice but to let Rosalie go. Beanie spun around to glare at his assailant only to get a fist right in the face.

POW. "Get the fuck off of her, you sicko!" Blake's fist slammed into Beanie's nose breaking it. Blood streamed down the man's face and lips from his shattered nose.

Rosalie's eyes widened - she recognized _that voice_. Her heart skipped a beat. _It couldn't be..._

Beanie made a choking sound as he fell backwards to the ground.

The remaining three gangsters closed in on Blake White.

"Who the hell is this guy?" "How the hell did he get past us?" "What is he some kind of _ninja_?" "Fuck that! Let's get him!"

The three thugs attacked Blake White simultaneously. _Not a smart move._ Blake thought to himself smugly. The young man wearing the baseball cap threw a punch at Blake who dodged sideways and then brought his fist into the thug's gut. Baseball Cap coughed and clutched at his midsection in pain.

Hoodie attacked next and kicked at Blake, but the singer blocked the kick by catching the thug's foot and pushing him backwards. Hoodie lost his balance and began to stumble backwards. Blake closed in and punched Hoodie hard across the face. He then put his hand on the back of Hoodie's head to bend the thug over and sent his knee flying into Hoodie's chest.

Blake then tossed Hoodie aside and he went flying into several lined up trash cans that all toppled over as the thug collided with them. Hoodie landed in a heap on top of the now spilled foul-smelling garbage.

"You're going to get it, punk!" Bill - the delinquent whom Rosalie had bitten - pulled out a switchblade knife and attacked Blake with it. Bill jabbed his knife forward in Blake's direction, aiming for Blake's stomach.

"Blake!" Rosalie cried out, her stomach clenched in worry.

But Blake stepped to the side and easily dodged the knife attack. Bill was not deterred by his miss, however, and continued his assault, slashing his knife at Blake again.

Blake continued to avoid the vicious knife thrusts. Blake tsked and shook his head at the thug. "So slow. Much slower than _sensei_." He caught Bill's wrist when he brought the knife slashing through the air in a downward swipe.

Blake closed his fingers around Bill's wrist until the man cried out in pain and dropped the knife. Blake continued to squeeze Bill's wrist until he bent it back. A sickening crack rang through the alleyway and Bill cried out in pain and agony. Blake had broken Bill's wrist.

Blake cracked his knuckles and cracked his neck from side-to-side as he approached the gangsters. Angry fires flickered in Blake's lavender colored eyes making him look like a demon. "Who's up for seconds?" Blake drawled.

"Who the hell is this guy? Is he some kind of vigilante?" Baseball Cap asked Beanie.

"Fuck if I know!" Beanie complained, "Shit...think he's a cop?"

"Fuck." Bill moaned.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Hoodie put in. "That guy's a demon."

The gangsters quickly helped each other to their feet and quickly fled the alleyway without looking back.

Rosalie remained unmoving against the alley wall, her ice-blue eyes wide, her body trembling. She was still paralyzed with fear.

But the reality that Blake White had just come to her rescue slowly began to sink in.

Blake turned to face Rosalie and approached her, curious about the hot babe he had just rescued from those pathetic street thugs. He stepped in front of Rosalie and looked her over from head-to-toe. Yep, she was a total hottie. He grinned thinking about what kind of a 'reward' this babe might end up giving him. His schedule was conveniently open that night too. _I'm so the man._

Rosalie looked up and the light from the flickering streetlamp illuminated Rosalie's face and her distinctive round, cracked glasses.

Blake blinked. He _knew_ those glasses! "Ah!" He pointed his finger at her. "No fucking way...you have got to be shitting me? Beggar girl?! You were the hot babe in distress? What the hell are you even doing in a place like this at this hour? And dressed like _that_?"

Blake ran his hand back through his platinum blonde locks in a frustrated gesture. And here he thought he had just rescued some hot babe and it turned out to be the beggar girl. He had hoped it would be some slut, who would have been so grateful for his rescue that he'd take her back to his penthouse suite, and screw her brains out. But now...that was simply out of the question. He had just rescued the gloomy, prudish Rosalie. She was the 'beggar girl' and beneath him. He was Blake White. The number one punk rockstar in America!

Rosalie watched Blake's frustrated gesture and saw the disappointment on his face, and her spirits fell. The tears she had been holding back began to slide down her face. _Dressed like that? Dressed like that?!_ Blake's careless words hit her hard and she suddenly felt angry. _Why does he think I'm dressed like this!_

Blake noticed that Rosalie had begun to cry and a disgusted and wary look formed on his face. He hated it when girls started crying. He never knew what to do. It was a bother. Women were much too overly emotional. That's why he enjoyed his 'arrangement' with Sadie Skellington - friends with benefits and no string attached. He took an unconscious step back.

But then Rosalie suddenly began to approach him. "You!" She started, raising her fist. "This is all _your_ fault!"

Blake raised an eyebrow at Rosalie and steeled himself in case she was actually going to hit him.

When she did hit him it was a pathetic little punch to his chest that had no real power behind it. "It's all your fault...I bought this dress at the _Armani_ store with the Gift Certificate _you_ gave me and men have been attacking me all day...dammit..." Rosalie began to beat her fists against Blake's muscular chest. "My life is cursed."

Blake could barely feel her punches and just stared down at her in awe. The dress he made beggar girl buy had put her in danger? Whoops. He patted her back awkwardly. "My bad...but still you shouldn't be walking around this area at night alone, regardless of what you're wearing. You're a girl, you know. Have a little more self-awareness, idiot." Blake poked Rosalie's forehead with his index finger. "I'm Blake White. I have places to go and very important people to see. I had to stop and help you because of your carelessness."

Rosalie's hands stilled on Blake's chest and she stepped back. She suddenly appeared abashed. "I...I'm sorry..."

Blake rolled his eyes at Rosalie. "You had better be. I went out of my way to save the likes of _you_. I could have been seriously injured." A sly look came over Blake's face. "Yep, you definitely owe me, beggar girl. I just saved your life. Just how are you going to repay me, huh?" Blake crossed his arms over his chest and gave Rosalie an expectant look.

Rosalie chewed on her lower lip and looked at Blake completely at a loss of what to say. "I don't know..."

"Well, I do, Rosalie." Blake purred her name as he approached her. Rosalie nervously backed up until her back hit the brick wall. Blake continued to approach her until he was standing directly in front of her. He slammed his hand next to her head and leaned forward to look into Rosalie's eyes. "You are going to be my slave."

Rosalie crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously. "S-S-Slave?" She paled and began to tremble. "Y-Y-You're just like them...you're a pervert."

Blake tsked and gave Rosalie an incredulous look. This girl sure had an overactive imagination. Blake jabbed Rosalie's forehead with his index finger. "Don't flatter yourself. You need to get that mind of yours out of the gutter too. You're not nearly attractive enough for me to want to fuck. Allow me to explain. You're going to be my new Girl Friday. You'll run errands and clean my apartment for me. That kind of thing. Got it?"

Rosalie nodded still in a daze and absentmindedly agreed to what Blake was saying. The singer had saved her and now she was going to be his slave. Hold on. Say what?! She felt a little indignant. But even though she was fuming on the inside she couldn't express her distaste of the situation outwardly. _Why is my life so unfair?_

_Why is my life so perfect?_ Blake reached out, grabbed Rosalie's wrist, and began to pull her out of the alleyway.

Rosalie did not resist.

"Come on, beggar girl. I'll give you a ride home. Be honored." Blake said in a haughty manner as he led Rosalie over to the parked limo.

Rosalie's eyes widened as they approached the impressive, long, white stretch limo. Rosalie had never been inside of a limo before.

Blake let go of Rosalie's wrist and opened the door. "Get in."

Rosalie did as she was told and got inside the limo while Blake got in after her and shut the door.

The inside of the limo took Rosalie's breath away. It had a long gray and black couch on one side and on the other side was a long bar topped with lots of glasses. There was a TV and an entertainment center for listening to music. The gray and white carpet that was on the floor had the band's name on it: _Erotic Corpses_.

"Would you like something to drink?" Blake asked as he opened the mini fridge to grab himself a beer.

"Er..." Rosalie tried to find the words to speak, but she was so nervous at being in such a nice place like that though: a celebrity's limo. It was like a dream. "A _Coca-Cola_ please."

Blake heard her soft voice with his keen hearing and pulled out a can of vanilla and cherry flavored coke and handed it to Rosalie. He opened his beer can and took a swig.

Rosalie opened her coke can and took a small sip. For some reason her fear had fled. As soon as Blake had shown up in the alleyway her trembling had ceased and the memory of Dr. Cole had been flung far from her mind.

Blake really was amazing. A tiny frown formed on Rosalie's lips. When he wasn't being an arrogant jerk that is.

Blake whipped out his smart phone and brought up his contacts with a swipe and tap of his finger. "What's your cell phone number, beggar girl?"

"Cell phone number...?" Rosalie murmured, shifting uneasily in her seat and feeling uncomfortable in this strange situation.

Blake gave Rosalie a pitying look. "Don't tell me you don't have a cell phone? You're living in the stone ages. How do you survive? Well, tell me your home phone number then...everyone has a hard line."

Rosalie blushed. "It was cut off...I couldn't pay my phone bill."

Blake looked at Rosalie incredulously and shook his head. He tsked and ran a hand back through his stylish platinum blonde hair. "Okay, fine, I'll just give you one of my spare phones." Blake reached into his trench coat, pulled out another cell phone, and tossed it to Rosalie.

Rosalie fumbled to catch it.

"I'll call you tomorrow morning and let you know when we should meet up so you can start your new duties as my slave. Oh and you should start calling me 'Master'." Blake chuckled amusedly. "Master Blake White, I like the sound of that!"

Rosalie frowned. She wanted to be mad at Blake for his asshole behavior, but he had just saved her from getting ganged raped, so Rosalie was still feeling particularly vulnerable when she said: "Yes Master" in a soft tiny voice.

Blake stopped laughing abruptly and suddenly gave Rosalie an embarrassed look. He turned his face away from Rosalie and coughed. She could have sworn that she saw a pink tinge to the singer's pale cheeks.

Rosalie looked down at the smart phone curiously. She had never owned a cell phone before, let alone a smart phone. She wasn't even sure she knew how to use one. She chewed on her lower lip nervously. "I've never had a cell phone before. I don't know how to use one...Master."

"Huh?" Blake glanced back at Rosalie curiously. "Where have you been living? Under a rock? Idiot..." Blake scooted closer to Rosalie. "I'll show you how to use it. Here, I'll call you and you can practice answering your phone."

"O-Okay." Rosalie nodded.

Blake called Rosalie and her phone's screen lit up. She instantly began to panic as she looked down at the green button and red button and was unsure of what to do. "How to I answer?"

"You use your finger to drag the green phone outside of the circle. That will answer the phone call. If you want to ignore a phone call you drag the red phone outside of the circle. But you better not ignore any of my phone calls, beggar girl. No one can ignore a phone call from Blake White." Blake's voice was smug.

Rosalie tapped at the little circle with the tiny green phone inside of it with her finger, but nothing happened. "Er...it's not working?"

Blake let out a heavy sigh and grabbed Rosalie's hand and guided her finger. "With your finger, you do a swiping motion. Like this." Blake guided her finger outside of the circle and the call was answered.

Rosalie's cheeks were flushing pink due to Blake's touch and his closeness. He was so handsome.

"By the way, I forgot to ask where you live?" Blake asked suddenly, letting go of Rosalie's hand and scratching the back of his head.

Rosalie quickly told Blake her address. Blake knocked hard on the glass that was separating him from his chauffer Harper. Harper pressed a button and the glass was lowered. Blake repeated Rosalie's address for Harper's benefit. "We're going to take the young lady home."

"Yes, of course, Mr. White." Harper groused. "Spoiled brat..." He muttered under his breath.

Rosalie heard the limo driver though and tilted her head to give Harper a curious look. Had Blake White's chauffer just insulted Blake White? She had to smile at that. Apparently, not everyone worshiped the ground Blake walked on.

As they drove down the street and deeper into the hood, Blake continued to show Rosalie how to operate her new smart phone. Harper noticed the bad neighborhood they were in and gripped the steering wheel more tightly until his knuckles were bright white.

Blake whistled as he looked out the window spotting groups of hoodlums crowded around burning trashcans and broken down cars. "You actually live here? Just how poor are you, beggar girl? Don't your parents work for a living? Surely, you could afford a better place..." He sneered.

"My mother left my father and I when I was six-years-old. My father has cancer and he's currently living at Good Samaritan Hospital." Rosalie explained in a dull voice.

Blake gave Rosalie a surprised and apologetic look. "I'm sorry...I didn't know. If it makes you feel any better both my parents are dead..." Blake offered.

Rosalie's head snapped in Blake's direction. She hadn't even known that. She quickly shook her head. "I'm so sorry...how could that make me feel better?"

Blake shrugged. "Don't be sorry. I'll tell you who should be sorry. The man who killed them. I'm positive my parents were murdered, Rosalie. And when I find him...I'm going to kill him. Slowly." Passionate fires flickered in Blake's lavender colored eyes.

Rosalie shuddered. She didn't doubt Blake's words. "G-G-Good." Rosalie said, surprising even herself.

Blake gave her an impressed look. He let out a breath of relief. "I can tell you're feeling better. You have spunk, Rosalie. I don't think I've ever met a girl quite like you. You're actually interesting. Rosalie, I-" Blake began as he looked deeply into Rosalie's eyes.

Harper suddenly cleared his throat loudly. "We're here, Mr. White." Harper informed Blake and Rosalie as he pulled up in front of Rosalie's apartment building.

Blake looked out the window at Rosalie's apartment building. "You sure it's safe to go in there...?" He gave the rundown building a skeptical look. Several of the windows were even broken and the holes in the windows looked suspiciously like bullet holes.

Rosalie laughed softly. "It's my home. I've lived here almost all my life."

Blake nodded before opening the door and stepping out. He offered Rosalie his hand so that she could get out of the limo. Blake hesitated in letting go of Rosalie's hand but at Rosalie's questioning look he quickly let go.

"I guess that's it then." Blake scratched the back of his neck nervously. "I'll call you tomorrow morning. You had better answer, Rosalie." Blake leaned forward to whisper in Rosalie's ear. "Or else I might just have to _punish_ you, slave."

Rosalie shivered but it was a pleasant little shiver, which surprised her. Blake pulled back suddenly and she was even regretful. She didn't mind his presence. "Don't worry, I'll answer your call, Master."

Blake nodded before getting back inside the limo. He was just about to shut the door when Rosalie called out to him in a surprisingly loud voice. "Wait! Blake! Thank you for saving me."

Blake poked his head back out of the limo and grinned at Rosalie. "Anytime, beggar girl." He then closed the door to the limo and it drove off down the street. Rosalie watched as the limo did a u-turn and then sped off in the opposite direction, exiting the ghetto like a bat out of hell.

Rosalie watched Blake's limo drive away feeling like the whole thing had been a dream. Rosalie pulled her cheek. "Ow." It wasn't a dream. This was reality. She smiled. Blake White had come to her rescue. Of course, he had kind of ruined the moment by declaring that she was now his slave afterwards. This brought a frown to Rosalie lips. But then she shrugged. Life wasn't perfect. Especially her life.

Rosalie made her way up to her apartment in a daze. She still couldn't really believe that what had happened hadn't been a dream. She entered her apartment, and was greeted by her five black cats. She bent down and petted them while still feeling dazed and went about feeding them. After her cats were purring contentedly from their filled tummies, she got ready for bed.

Rosalie plopped down on her bed and reached into her ratty purse for the smart phone Blake had given her. As she lay down she held the phone over her head and inspected it. The smart phone was _real_. Blake White had _really_ saved her.

Rosalie set her smart phone on her bedside table gingerly and tried to fall asleep - but try as she might, sleep eluded her that night. Her mind was filled with thoughts of the handsome yet arrogant rockstar, Blake White.

After a few hours of tossing and turning, Rosalie couldn't stand it any longer and grabbed the smart phone from her bedside table. She brought up her call history and decided to send Blake a text before trying to fall back to sleep.

The text message read: _Are you awake? Thank you for saving me. Good night. Sweet dreams, Master. (smiley face) Rosalie 1:10 AM_

Rosalie pressed the send button and chewed on her lower lip as she awaited to see if Blake would text her back. A few seconds later Rosalie's phone made a beeping noise as she received a text. Rosalie tapped on her phone and brought up the text message.

It read: _Idiot...I am now. It's late. Go to bed. You need a lot of beauty sleep, though I doubt it will help much. I'll c-ya tomorrow, slave. (winky face) Blake 1:15 AM_

Rosalie read the message and smiled. She clutched the smart phone to her chest happily. _C-ya tomorrow._ He had said. _Kyahhh!_ Rosalie inwardly squealed happily.

Rosalie was finally able to fall asleep but was plagued by a nightmare. In the dream she was chasing after a shadowy figure. She wanted it to stop, to warn it, but the shadowy figure continued to elude her and remained just out of her reach the entire night. Just when she thought she was about to grab onto the person they disappeared into thin air.

She woke up early the next morning feeling frustrated and uneasy by how the dream had ended. Or had it been a nightmare? She showered, washed her face, brushed her teeth and decided to dress in another one of the _Armani_ outfits that Carrie had helped her to pick out.

This time she selected a nice pair of _Armani_ jeans and a black t-shirt that had the words: ' _ARMANI_ ' in silver on it. It was amazing how such a simple outfit looked _so_ much better when it was designer clothing.

Rosalie thought about wearing her sneakers but decided against it. Instead she decided to wear her low-heeled, scuffed up, black leather, job-hunting shoes. She spent thirty minutes trying to tame her head of wild black hair, to no avail. She wondered if she should just pull it back into a ponytail or bun, and ended up pulling it back into a ponytail.

After that she made herself some strong coffee and a piece of toast. Rosalie loved coffee. It was one of life's simple pleasures. Her five black cats watched her attentively as she used a pan to toast the slice of bread (since she didn't own a toaster) - in case the bread fell to the floor. The cats would be the first to get it! Her cats were so naughty but she loved them.

Rosalie looked down at her old wristwatch. It was already ten o'clock AM. She frowned and wondered when Blake was going to call or text her...

Rosalie decided to kill some time by finishing _Exile_ (Book 2 of the _Dark Elf Trilogy)_ , and continued to immerse herself in the interesting story of the lonely dark elf, Drizzt Do'Urden. Currently, he had left the underground city of the dark elves, Menzoberranzan, and was traveling through the Underdark accompanied by a magical panther named Guenhwyvar as he searched for a new home, and a place where he could belong.

Several hours passed and Rosalie was still deeply engrossed in her fantasy book, transported completely to another world. At that moment, she was in the wilds of the Underdark with Drizzt as he battled horrendous subterranean monsters called Illithids or 'Mind Flayers' - humanoid creatures with heads like an octopus that consumed the brains of their prey. Illithids had the power to probe a person's mind and control them. Rosalie shuddered at the thought.

Rosalie looked down at the smart phone's screen. It was 3:00 PM already. Rosalie's stomach rumbled and she put a hand on her stomach. She didn't have anything in her fridge to make lunch and she had to save her instant cup ramen soup for her dinner that night.

Rosalie's spirits fell. It looked like Blake White wasn't going to be calling or texting her after all. She figured it could be because he was busy...he was a celebrity after all, but...he had promised to call her that morning. For some reason it felt like Rosalie was being blown off. She felt rejected.

"I should have known he wouldn't remember. Why would Blake White concern himself with a gloomy girl like me? He's right. I was being full of myself. Blake...you jerk." Rosalie grumbled to herself.

Hopes dashed, Rosalie spent the rest of the day reading and trying to ignore her rumbling stomach. Around 10:00 PM Rosalie made her cup noodle soup and after she was finished she got ready to leave for her night shift at the 7-Eleven.

Rosalie redid her ponytail, straightened the glasses on her face, and left her apartment - but not before saying 'goodbye' to her cats and patting them all on their heads. Rosalie walked down the sidewalk with heavy steps. It took her almost double the amount of time it usually did to reach the 7-Eleven but she managed to get there at 10:45 PM since she had been running a bit early anyways. Rosalie entered the 7-Eleven through the automatic doors and saw that Carrie was waiting for her with an anxious look on her face.

Rosalie had a sudden sinking feeling in her gut when she saw that Carrie's face was as pale as death and there were dark circles under her eyes. She wasn't even wearing her usual Goth makeup. "Oh Rosalie!" Carrie ran out from behind the counter and made her way over to Rosalie before suddenly hugging her. "I'm so sorry! I saw the news."

Rosalie stood frozen in Carrie's arms and was shocked by the Goth's sudden hug. She tried to get a better look at her friend. "What are you talking about?"

Carrie reluctantly released Rosalie and looked back at her with a grim expression on her face. Carrie turned and pointed her finger at the TV that was on in the 7-Eleven and that was currently showing the news. The headline on screen read: _Breaking News: Rockstar Blake White Commits Suicide._ Beneath the headline was a picture of Blake White - a dramatic shot of him singing at one of his past concerts.

Rosalie couldn't believe her eyes. Blake White had committed suicide?! Impossible...there was just no way. "Carrie, can you put the sound on, please." Rosalie said, her voice quavering.

"Sure thing, girl." Carrie walked over to the TV and switched the sound on.

A female reporter with puffy red eyes and who had obviously been crying was reporting on Blake's suicide. "Rockstar Blake White was discovered dead in his apartment last night at 1:40 AM. Police arrived upon the scene after having received a phone call about a gunshot. He was found on the floor of his living room, shot in the head. The gun was in his hand. The gun he owned was apparently for security. His time of death is said to have been 1:30 AM. That is the time the sound of the gunshot was heard inside of the Chateau Marmont hotel where Blake rented the penthouse suite.

"Thirteen years ago, Blake's parents - the famous singer Pearl White and his father the esteemed actor and action hero Atlas White - died in a fire at their mansion home in Beverly Hills when Blake was only twelve-years-old. It was reported to have been an accident but Blake had always been convinced that wasn't the case. Because of this, Blake's death is now under investigation. Blake's legal guardian, William Wraythe, owner and CEO of Wraythe Records refuses to comment. Blake's funeral has been arranged to be a small private affair with only friends attending...

"Blake White was twenty-five years old. It is a tragic loss to the music community to lose one of our best and most talented artists at such a young age." The reporter finished, sniffling. "Blake White...America will miss you."

... _suicide_ ... _shot in the head_ ... _gun in his hand_ ...

Rosalie sunk to her knees as all of the strength in her body left her. Blake White was dead. He had committed suicide. "But that's...impossible." Rosalie breathed and pulled out the smart phone that Blake had given her. Rosalie quickly sent Blake a text.

Her message read: _Blake, where are you? Please message me back immediately._

A few seconds later Rosalie's phone beeped and Rosalie jumped. She tapped on the message to open it. The blood drained from Rosalie's face as she read:

Who is this?

Rosalie began to tremble and a concerned Carrie knelt by her side. "Rosalie, what's wrong?"

Rosalie shook her head. "He can't be dead, Carrie. Blake never would have killed himself. He wasn't that weak. Last night, Blake saved me from a bunch of thugs who tried to rape me. He was incredible...like a superhero. He drove me home in his limo afterwards and gave me this cell phone. He told me that he would call me this morning...but he never did."

Carrie frowned as she listened to her friend's broken story. "And he seemed fine last night? He didn't seem sad or anything?"

Rosalie shook her head. "He was being his usual cocky, arrogant self. He seemed... _happy_." Rosalie remembered the shit-eating grin Blake had given Rosalie just before he closed the door of the limo.

"Then there's only one explanation." Carrie began grimly. "Blake White was _murdered_."

Rosalie's eyes widened in horror. "M-M-Murdered. You mean someone killed him? But who? Who would do such a thing?"

Carrie shrugged. "It could have been anyone. We don't know Blake well enough to make a guess. The world he lived in...who his friends and family were...who his enemies were - we don't know any of that. And now we'll never know." Carrie shook her head and put her hands out in a helpless gesture.

Rosalie texted the mysterious person who now had Blake's phone. Her message read: _Did you kill him?_

There was no response. A chill went down Rosalie's spine.

Rosalie worked the rest of her nightshift at 7-Eleven in a daze. She was still in shock that Blake White had committed suicide or as Carrie suspected - been murdered. But by whom? How? Why? Rosalie felt like screaming. Instead she greeted the next customer that walked through the automatic glass sliding doors with a creepy Wednesday Adam's smile on her face. "Good evening."

The man screamed and fled the 7-Eleven.

***

Blake blinked slowly and looked around at his surroundings. He scratched his head in a confused gesture. He couldn't remember for the life of him how the hell he had gotten to Rodeo Drive. Blake shrugged, figuring that he must be hung over. His head was throbbing after all and he could barely form a coherent thought. It was like he was stoned or something.

He spotted 208 Rodeo Drive Restaurant and decided to get a coffee to soothe his pounding headache. Blake swaggered over to one of the outside tables and took a seat, crossing his legs. He took his sunglasses off and waited for three or four waitresses to descend upon him to see if he needed anything. He smirked. He was Blake White after all - such treatment was only normal for a top celebrity like him.

Blake spotted a pretty waitress coming his way and opened his mouth to speak to her, but the waitress passed by his table and headed to another table instead to take the order of a lovey-dovey looking couple.

_What the hell?_ Blake's eye twitched. Were those bozos famous? More famous than him? That seemed highly unlikely.

Blake ground his teeth as he waited for another available waitress to notice him. After a few minutes, another waitress passed by Blake's table and he called out to her. "Excuse me..." But the waitress rudely passed him by.

Now this was really beginning to irritate Blake. He had been seated at his table for more than ten minutes and not a single waitress had come to take his order! This was unheard of. Ten minutes turned into thirty minutes and still they continued to snub him.

_What the fuck?!_ Blake slammed his hands down on the table in front of him. The silverware upon the table rattled slightly.

A few people looked his way and gave Blake a wary look. Blake just glared back. _Hmph!_ _Bunch of wusses!_ If 208 Rodeo Drive Restaurant didn't want _his_ patronage he would simply take his millions elsewhere! He didn't have to stand for this sort of treatment! He was Blake White! _Dammit!_

Blake got up from the table and stomped off. He put his folded sunglasses inside of his long, black leather, trench coat and opted to give the paparazzi a free photo opportunity. He also decided he'd do a little window-shopping at his favorite stores before finding a place to eat even though he wasn't all that hungry.

Rodeo Drive was looking particularly inviting on this crystal clear, sunny day. Blake took a deep breath and looked up at the clear, blue sky overhead. Rodeo Drive had all the most well known designer stores: _Dolce and Gabanna_ , _Dior_ , _Chanel_ , _Louis Vuitton_ , _Tiffany and Co_ , _BVLGARI_ , the _Judith Ripka Jewelry_ store, _Valentino_ and of course Blake's favorite store: the _Armani_ store.

The street Rodeo Drive was famous for being known as one big fashion runway. Between the two-lane street palm trees had been planted, giving the street an exotic, tropical feel. Rodeo Drive had nice features like areas that had cobbled streets, ornate lampposts that had hanging plants with draping foliage, a dog statue, and a classy hotel. There were benches where people could sit and people watch. Rodeo Drive was definitely dog friendly and Blake spotted a lot of people walking around with their dogs. Everyone's dog had a cute, or expensive collar on. There were spiked, leather collars, collars with rhinestones on them, and collars with hearts. The designs were endless.

But as Blake strut his way down Rodeo Drive, he began to notice something very strange. No one seemed to be paying him any attention, which was extremely unusual.

A man passed Blake by dangerously close and nearly ran into him. Blake sidestepped out of the big man's way feeling scandalized. He had _never_ stepped out of someone's way before. He was Blake White! People were supposed to step out of _his_ way automatically.

Blake shook his fist at the retreating figure. "Hey, watch where you're going asshole!" Blake shouted after the guy who just ignored Blake and kept on walking, as if nothing were amiss.

"Tch." Blake snorted and looked up ahead. Well, hello. Two cute, tall, blonde girls dressed in skimpy designer clothes were approaching Blake as they chatted happily.

Well, Blake was about to make their Lucky Day! Young women always went nuts when they saw Blake walking around Rodeo Drive until he usually had a crowd of girls following him around as he went shopping. He usually got them to carry his shopping bags or sent them off to get him coffee. Maybe he'd be in a good mood and would give the girls his autograph. _Starbucks_ coffee tended to put Blake into a very good mood.

"Why, hello ladies. It's a lovely afternoon isn't it?" Blake greeted the girls as they passed and winked at them roguishly.

But the girls continued to walk past Blake and totally ignored him!

Blake's jaw dropped. _Huh?_ This was impossible! Had the great, handsome Blake White just been _ignored_?!

"Stupid, ugly bitches..." Blake groused as he stomped off angrily down the street with his hands deep in his designer leather pants.

He watched a _Starline City Sightseeing_ bus drive by and noticed that they began to cheer and wave wildly towards him.

Blake smirked. Finally he was getting the attention he so deserved. Blake turned towards the bus and turned his smirk into a more pleasant smile as he waved at the bus. This was a 'service' he didn't normally do. They should feel honored. _Aren't they lucky?_ He hoped they put up a lot of pictures of him online today. His reputation for being a nice, friendly, down-to-earth rockstar would only skyrocket.

"Look! It's Joan Rivers!" "Joan Rivers!" "I love you Joan!"

_Huh?_ Blake turned to see that Joan Rivers was standing directly next to him with one of her friends and her daughter's son - Cooper.

"Oh my God!" Blake jumped back a few steps away from Joan. That woman was always so unpredictable...

Joan had an urn in her hand and was sprinkling ashes all around Rodeo Drive. That was just wrong on so many levels.

Blake shook his head in bemusement. That woman was crazy but...he didn't think that Joan was better liked than him. Blake found himself pouting childishly.

Blake had had just about enough of all this! Why the hell was everyone ignoring him and acting like he was yesterday's news? A one hit wonder? Stale bread? Stinky socks?

Well, he knew where he could go where he would _not_ be ignored - his favorite store: _Giorgio Armani_. He spent thousands of dollars there! They had always rolled out the red carpet for him and treated him like a prince. The store clerks all knew him. He was their best customer and patron. Blake had even modeled for a Giorgio Armani ad in VOGUE magazine once.

Blake took off down the street and headed for the beautiful and modern _Giorgio Armani_ store. Blake took a deep breath before entering the clothing store.

The store clerks were standing at attendance on either side of the entrance. Blake smirked and waited for the girls whom he recognized to descend upon him and ask him if he needed assistance, or perhaps a date later that night.

Blake swaggered inside and opened his arms wide. _Now, come to me._ Blake thought.

But nothing happened.

The singer opened his eyes from his little fantasy and looked around. The female store clerks had completely ignored him. _What the hell?_

Blake's jaw dropped. "You have got to be fucking kidding me. Fine, be that way. Go ahead and ignore me. The next time I get interviewed by _Rolling Stones_ magazine I'll give this place a stinking review! You'll live to regret this! No one treats Blake White like this and gets away with it!" Blake said firmly before storming out of the _Armani_ store.

Blake was boiling with rage, fires flickered dangerously in his lavender colored eyes, and he cracked his knuckles. He felt like beating the shit out of someone.

What the fuck was going on? Was there some kind of scandal that Blake didn't know about? _Shit!_ And did everyone fucking believe it? Was that what was going on? How bad could the scandal be? Blake stroked his chin in thought. Did they suddenly think he was gay? That had killed Ricky Martin's career for sure...

_I'm heterosexual dammit._ _This is all Joey's fault...if he wasn't always so damned clingy all the time those rumors never would have started! I agreed to go out with Sadie Skellington since it would be good publicity. That should have put an end to the gay rumors._ Blake saw a Chinese couple taking photos of everything _but_ him and snapped. "What the fuck? Think you're better than me? I'm Blake White, dammit! A photo of me is worth millions!"

A huge, tan, buff guy walking his two tiny Chihuahuas passed by Blake next. "Tch...what's with those tiny dogs, dumbass. It looks completely retarded. Why don't you get yourself a Rottweiler, idiot!" Blake called after the man, trying to start a fight.

But the muscle-head with the Chihuahuas completely ignored Blake and kept on waking.

Blake spotted a middle-aged, overweight man on a Harley Davidson who was covered in tattoos and had a beer gut next. The biker had a small fluffy white dog in his arms with its paws on the handlebars.

"Hey fatass! That's animal cruelty, you know! Why don't you leave your fucking pet at home! I'm going to report you to the state!" Blake shouted out at the biker.

The biker revved his engine and tore off down the road.

Blake spotted a fat woman wearing an extremely short skirt next and who was also walking a tiny dog dressed in a pink tutu. "Hey, you ugly bitch! You shouldn't try on your dog's clothes!"

The woman simply passed him by. Not even a slap!

Blake spotted a transvestite walking down the street after that. He was seven feet tall with the build of a football player, but dressed in a dark blue evening gown with sparkly sequins on it, a pair of high heels and a shoulder-length, wavy, brown-haired wig on his head.

Blake got ready and took a deep breath. "Hey fag! Everyone knows you're a dude! I can see your Adam's Apple!"

But the smiling and happily oblivious transvestite didn't even flinch at Blake's horrible insult and continued to sashay down Rodeo Drive.

The singer ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Dammit...every single one of them..." _When's somebody going to punch me already?_ Blake looked around at the people walking by, trying to pick his next victim when he spotted a very unusual sight for Rodeo Drive:

First, his eyes spotted the muddy sneakers, then his eyes trailed up frayed jeans, and then a baggy t-shirt that had the picture of a cute kitten on it with overly big eyes that had obviously been digitally edited. His eyes kept moving up and he wondered if he were looking at a girl or guy now since her boobs weren't even visible because of that baggy t-shirt. He looked up at the person's face and all he saw were a pair of dorky, round glasses and a mop of unruly black hair.

Blake got ready to insult this ugly girl next. "Hey, homeless chick, what the fuck do you think you're doing walking down Rodeo Drive? You're an eyesore! Go back under the bridge where you belong!"

The girl passed right by Blake and continued to look down at her shoes, but then she abruptly stopped. "Excuse me?" She said softly before spinning around to confront the man who had just insulted her so cruelly and unjustly. "Who do you think you are to-"

The woman gasped and put a hand in front of her mouth. "Blake White." She murmured softly.

***

Earlier that day, Rosalie had been feeling suffocated back at her apartment. She couldn't even concentrate on _Sojourn_ (Book 3 of the _Dark Elf Trilogy)_ , and didn't feel like going to visit her father at Good Samaritan Hospital since chances were high she'd run into Dr. Cole.

On a whim, Rosalie decided to take a walk down Rodeo Drive. Something she had never felt like doing before. But Rodeo Drive had been a place that Blake White had been known to frequent. One could say that it was his favorite hang out spot. Rosalie wanted to better understand the man she would now never get the chance to know.

Rosalie had debated about whether or not she should wear one of her fancy _Armani_ outfits but...she just didn't feel like herself in those clothes. Rosalie wasn't rich and she wasn't a celebrity. She was a poor girl, a nobody.

Rosalie had put on her usual sneakers, jeans and a comfy cat t-shirt. There was a small spaghetti stain on the shirt but she doubted anyone would notice. She put her messy hair into a ponytail and had taken the bus to Rodeo Drive.

She decided to walk to the _Giorgio Armani_ store like Blake would have done...following his invisible footprints, so to speak.

Rosalie was almost to the store and had been minding her own business when some asshole suddenly yelled out and insulted her: "Hey, homeless chick, what the fuck do you think you're doing walking down Rodeo Drive? You're an eyesore! Go back under the bridge where you belong!"

_What the hell?_ Rosalie thought as she stopped in her tracks. How dare some stranger insult her so cruelly? Didn't they realize that she as in mourning? Rosalie clenched her hands at her sides and gathered the courage to speak: "Excuse me?" Rosalie spun around and looked at the man's feet first \- his black leather combat boots and leather pants. "Who do you think you are to-" Rosalie looked up at the man before her and gasped.

She brought a hand in front of her mouth. "Blake White." She breathed.

There standing before her was none other than Blake White. He was dressed in a flashy, black leather, trench coat that had metal studs on it and the design of crosses on the coat's lapels. He was shirtless and the jacket was open revealing a good amount of Blake's pale, muscular chest and rock hard abs. Several silver, chain necklaces with macabre pendants dangled around his neck. He was wearing a pair of sinfully tight black leather pants and a pair of combat boots with lots of buckles. There was a snakeskin belt around his waist that had a skull buckle that was covered in Swarovski crystals. He had a few silver hoops in one ear and several rings on his fingers.

Standing in front of Rosalie was Blake White in all his handsome rockstar glory.

However, his body was transparent and Rosalie noticed the blood on the side of his head that stained his usually immaculate platinum blonde hair.

Blake White was dead.

Blake White was a ghost.

Rosalie wanted to scream. She wanted to cry out Blake's name again and just scream in general. She felt dizzy, confused, afraid, elated. She swayed on her feet since she didn't know what she should be feeling. _Blake White is dead and a ghost...I must be going crazy...I'm going crazy...I'm seeing things. That I wish I'd see..._

Blake narrowed his eyes at the homely girl until he slowly began to recognize her. "Ah!" Blake pointed his finger at Rosalie. "Beggar girl? What are you doing here at Rodeo Drive? Are you going to spend more of the Gift Certificate I gave you at the _Armani_ store? And why did you come dressed like _that,_ if so? You should have worn one of the outfits you already purchased." Blake scolded Rosalie. He was inwardly frowning at himself for taking so long to recognize the girl, but his head was still pounding. _Wasn't I supposed to call her?_ Blake tried to remember the previous night but everything was a blur.

Rosalie put both of her hands over her mouth. She didn't know if she wanted to scream, cry or laugh.

When Rosalie didn't answer Blake gave her a concerned look. "Is something wrong, idiot? Beggar girl? Hey..."

Rosalie shook her head. She then steeled herself and removed her hands from her mouth. "No, it's nothing." She looked around at the people passing them by on the street, a few had looked her way curiously since she appeared to be talking to herself and staring at thin air. _Shit._ She probably looked like a complete lunatic. _This is so not good._

Rosalie gathered her strength of will. "Blake, I need to speak with you. Alone. Please, follow me." Rosalie said as she took off, speed walking down the street. She needed to find an isolated area to speak to Blake privately.

Blake shrugged and followed the socially awkward girl assuming that Rosalie didn't like crowds.

Rosalie finally found an isolated spot on a cobbled street next to a lamppost with a hanging flower plant. She made sure that no one else was around before turning to face Blake once more. She opened her mouth to speak but then snapped it shut. She frowned. How the hell were you supposed to tell someone that they were dead? She had never actually had to do this before. She had always ignored the ghost that came after her.

Rosalie chewed on her lower lip and looked up at Blake helplessly. "Blake, there's something I need to tell you. There's something you need to know..." Rosalie began fiddling with her hands nervously.

Blake put his hands on his hips and arched an eyebrow at Rosalie as he gave her an impatient look. "Well, beggar girl, what is it? Come on, spit it out." Blake began to tap his boot upon the ground impatiently. He didn't have all day after all. He was Blake White. He probably had several appointments that he was already late for. _Manager Brody is going to kill me._

Rosalie took a deep breath, and looked Blake directly in his lavender colored eyes. Her expression changed into a pitying look. "Blake...you've been shot. What I mean to say is...you died...you're dead..."

Blake blinked at Rosalie and froze. "Hah? Is this some kind of sick joke? Are you messing with me, beggar girl? Shit, I know, I must be on _Punk'd_ \- come on out, dipshits! This isn't funny!" Blake yelled out as he spun around and glared at every shadowy corner he could spot.

Rosalie shook her head despairingly at Blake. "On October 11 at 1:30 AM you shot yourself in the head. You committed suicide, Blake. They found the gun in your hand. That's what the news reporter said."

"Suicide?" Blake rolled his head back and laughed heartily. "Do I look like the kind of guy who would commit suicide? I have everything a man in this world can possibly want. I'm a famous singer. I live in a penthouse suite at the Chateau Marmont hotel. I have a Maserati and a private limo driver. I have millions of dollars in my bank account. I'm on top of the world! I'm the Prince of Rock! I'm perfect. My life is perfect. I'm Blake White. I'm special. Killing myself...would be preposterous." Blake put his arms out to his sides dramatically and continued to laugh.

"Blake...look at your hands." Rosalie suggested softly.

Blake looked down at his hands out of reflex to the suggestion and his eyes widened when he saw his transparent hands. He flipped his hands over and back again - sure enough he could see right through them. Blake clenched his hands into fists. "No way..."

Rosalie then pointed to Blake's head. "You were shot in the head. There's blood on the side of your head...I can see it..."

Blake brought his hand up to feel the side of his head - it felt squishy and he could feel the hole in his skull where the bullet had passed through. He slowly pushed his index finger inside of the hole but felt no pain. He had a hole in his head.

No...no...this can't be happening. This can't be true. I'm Blake White! I can't be dead. Just like that? Fuck that! It can't be true...it's all a trick...it just has to be...

Blake removed his finger from his skull. "Fuck that...it's a trick...this is all a trick and-" Blake glared angrily at Rosalie, fires burning in his lavender eyes. "You're a lying bitch!" Blake burst out and moved to shove Rosalie back.

Blake watched in horror as his hand passed right through Rosalie's shoulder.

Rosalie shivered - it felt like a cold breeze had just passed through her.

Blake shook his head, incredulous look in his face. "No...I can't be dead...lies...it's all lies!" Blake burst out and took off running down Rodeo Drive.

"Blake!" Rosalie called out to the fleeing ghost. But he did not stop.

***

It was only late afternoon and nowhere near the time Rosalie started her nightshift, but for some reason her feet ended up taking her to the 7-Eleven. Carrie had the dayshift that day and so as soon as Rosalie entered Carrie spotted her. Upon seeing Rosalie looking so pale and frightened, Carrie immediately became concerned and ran out from behind the counter to go to Rosalie's side.

"Rosalie? What's wrong, hun? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Carrie exclaimed.

Rosalie looked up and met Carrie's exotic, dark-brown eyes and nodded.

Carrie's eyes widened and she gasped. "Oh no, you didn't? You really saw a ghost? Did you see Blake's ghost?" Carrie's voice had suddenly taken an interested edge.

Rosalie nodded again.

"Oh my Goddess, you saw Blake's ghost! What did he say?!" Carrie grabbed Rosalie by her arm and looked into her ice-blue eyes searchingly. "Say something Rosalie!"

Rosalie tried to find the words and courage to speak. "He was angry...he didn't believe he was dead. He said that it would be preposterous for him to commit suicide."

Carrie pulled back and nodded knowingly. She then stroked her chin in thought. "That makes sense. If Blake has come back as a ghost it is because he has 'unfinished business' in this Material Plane. His 'unfinished business' must be discovering his murderer and getting revenge." Carrie began to pace back and forth. "The fact that Blake's _ghost_ has appeared proves it wasn't suicide but a murderer. Someone killed Blake White and in order for Blake to find peace and move on his murderer must be found. He needs help Rosalie." Carrie turned to give Rosalie a hopeful look.

Rosalie gave Carrie a bewildered look. Help? What could she possibly do? "How? What can we do?"

"First, we'll go to Blake's funeral." Carrie was already nodding to herself. "The people at his funeral are all potential suspects."

Rosalie gave Carrie a confused look. "Why would Blake's murderer go to his funeral? Won't just his friends and family be there? That doesn't make any sense..."

"Oh yes it does. If you're a murderer that is. Murderers love to go back to the scene of the crime or funerals to gloat about the perfect crime they committed and that they managed to get away with. It also helps draw suspicion away from them if they're properly grieving at his funeral. I watch a lot of crime dramas and it's always those closest to the victim that end up being the perpetrator." Carrie explained.

Rosalie nodded her agreement absentmindedly. "That makes sense. I guess. But I thought it was going to be a private funeral?"

Carrie gave Rosalie a mischievous wink. "You don't think I've ever broken into a cemetery before? Just what kind of Wicca witch do you take me for?"

Rosalie gulped. She had almost forgotten just whom she was dealing with. First, she befriended a Goth girl and now she was seeing rockstar ghosts. Her life was slowly descending into the realm of fantasy. What could possibly be next?

### Chapter 4: Bastards of Young

Rosalie held on for dear life as Carrie neared the entrance to Angelus Rosedale Cemetery on her KTM. As Carrie had suspected the main entrance was blocked off with security cars and a crowd of heartless reporters and paparazzi who wanted entrance into the cemetery to witness Blake White's funeral. Carrie rode right past the entrance and headed for the back of the cemetery.

The back of the cemetery didn't have the iron barred fence that most of the cemetery was surrounded by and instead had a chain link fence. Carrie parked her purple, black, and silver KTM behind a tree with a nice thick trunk and grabbed a few fallen branches to put on top of her bike in order to camouflage it. The witch looked at her hidden bike and nodded at her handiwork before motioning for Rosalie to follow her. Carrie snuck along the fence until she began to peel back one section of the chain link fence that had already been cut by someone. Carrie grinned at Rosalie radiantly as she silently made her way through the fence and onto the cemetery grounds.

Eyes wide, Rosalie took a deep breath and also made her way through the fence. From what Rosalie could see, Rosedale Cemetery was a mixture of ancient headstones and modern ones. There were maples, oaks and birch decorating the perimeter as well as tropical palm trees. Rosalie spotted elaborate grave markers: a stone angel praying above one grave, a life-size stone woman crying on a headstone which read: 'Albert Kercheval, 1829-1893', and a tiny angel seated on a grave.

Carrie was wearing a black, long-sleeved shirt with the pattern of purple roses and thorns on it. Her usual pentagram necklace dangled from her neck as she moved confidently through the headstones, heading for where Blake White was to be buried. "Celebrities segregated in life, united in death." Carrie muttered to herself softly.

There was a private crypt for someone named 'Joseph Maier', and a pyramid shaped crypt with the words 'Shatto' on it above its small entrance door. The cemetery had a spooky, ancient feel even though one could see skyscrapers in the distance. Rosalie almost stepped on a flat grave marker, which read: 'Wife and Mother, Mary L. Chinn, 1903-1952'. Below the name was a tiny round portrait of the woman.

As she silently followed Carrie through the graves and headstones, Rosalie couldn't get over how easily they had made it past security and into the cemetery. Carrie pulled Rosalie behind a tree suddenly and they peeked out from behind the tree to see a small crowd of people dressed in black several meters ahead of them. They were surrounding an open grave. The casket was nowhere to be seen and the girls figured that it had already been lowered inside of the grave. A priest was present making a speech while some of the cemetery workers began to shovel dirt into the hole.

Carrie whipped out a pair of binoculars and began to eye the gathered crowd, or as she liked to think of them: 'the suspects'.

The Goth witch noticed Blake's band mate Devon Decayn and Blake's girlfriend Sadie Skellington first. Devon was dressed all in black with a short leather jacket, t-shirt, leather pants and boots. There were dark circles under his _dry_ eyes. Carrie also noted that he wore an emotionless expression on his face - stoic, unfeeling, neutral. This caused Carrie to frown thoughtfully as she turned her attention to Sadie.

Sadie was dressed in a black, knee-length dress. She was also wearing a pair of fishnet stockings and high-heeled shoes. She had on a stylish, black fascinator on the side of her head that had a veil. The female rockstar was crying softly when her crying suddenly upped in volume and she turned to fling herself onto Devon's chest. She then began to cry onto Devon's chest and clutched at his t-shirt.

Devon continued to wear his stoic expression and hesitated before slowly raising his hand and putting it on her back. A few moments later he was wrapping both of his arms around Sadie's trembling back to comfort her and hugged her close.

"Tsk." Carrie tsked to herself. "Well, would you look at that. Blake's only been dead for a few days and Sadie is already on the prowl. And Devon doesn't seem to mind...he's already comforting Blake's girlfriend over his death. What a smooth operator. Take a look for yourself." Carrie said as she handed Rosalie the binoculars.

Rosalie put the binoculars to her eyes and saw Devon hugging Sadie while she cried dramatically onto his chest. Devon's expression seemed aloof and his eyes were dry. Rosalie's jaw dropped. Devon was supposed to be Blake's best friend! His cool demeanor surprised Rosalie greatly.

Sadie suddenly wrapped her arms around Devon and buried her face more deeply onto Devon's chest. _Come on Devon...push her away._ Rosalie thought but instead Devon began to pat Sadie's head. _Don't betray Blake like this..._

There was something fishy about this scene, but Rosalie couldn't quite put her finger on it. Presently Devon - Blake's best friend and Sadie - Blake's girlfriend - were hugging each other but...if one of them had killed Blake the real question was: why? What did they have to gain? The blood drained from Rosalie's face as she thought: _Each other?_

Rosalie noticed an elderly yet still handsome man in his late 60s next. The man was incredibly well dressed in a black, pinstriped suit and a cravat with a sparkling diamond pin in it. Small diamond stud earrings could be seen glittering in his ears. A black Stetson sat on his head. The man tucked a strand of his chin-length white hair behind his ear and stroked his neatly trimmed beard. Rosalie figured he was some rich celebrity, perhaps an actor. Stetson was dabbing at his sharp, gray eyes with a handkerchief as he cried openly. His sadness appeared to be sincere. He was grieving over Blake's death. Rosalie would have thought this man was Blake's father if it weren't for the fact that she knew that Blake's mother and father were already dead.

"Carrie...who is that elder gentleman with the white hair, diamond earrings and cowboy hat?" Rosalie asked as she handed Carrie the binoculars.

Carrie took the binoculars and peered through them at the old man dressed in the expensive designer suit and recognized him easily. "Ah, that's Mr. William Wraythe -CEO of Wraythe Records and Blake's legal guardian. Mr. Wraythe was best friends with Blake's father. Blake's parents were celebrities, you know. His father, Atlas White, was an actor and his mother, Pearl White, a singer. Mr. Wraythe was their boss as well as their friend. He later became Blake's boss and mentor. From what I heard though Mr. Wraythe considered Blake like a son and I think Blake felt that Mr. Wraythe was like a second father to him." Carrie stroked her chin in thought. "I don't see what Mr. Wraythe would gain from Blake's death...although Michael Jackson sold more of his songs on iTunes after he died than when he was alive."

"He didn't do it." Came a voice so chilling it seemed to freeze the air around Rosalie and Carrie causing the two girls to shiver.

Rosalie spun towards the sound of the voice and spotted Blake standing next to Carrie. "Ack!" Rosalie muttered a curse as she jumped. Rosalie slapped her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming: 'Blake!'

Carrie noticed Rosalie's odd behavior and how she had turned pale. The gloomy girl was also looking at the space just next to Carrie intently as if someone were standing next to her.

Little tingles of excitement went up and down the witch's arms. Blake White was probably standing right next to her. "He's here, isn't he? Blake White. He's standing right next to me, isn't he?" Carrie's dark brown eyes sparkled.

Rosalie nodded, eyes wide and fearful.

"Wicked." Carrie grinned. "Well, what is he saying, girl?" The Goth prodded impatiently.

Rosalie removed her trembling hands from her mouth. "He said Mr. Wraythe didn't do it."

Carrie hummed thoughtfully and shrugged. "Well, we'll see if Blake is right. Everyone here at Blake's funeral is a murder suspect. For all we know Mr. Wraythe could have killed Blake. He's equally guilty until proven innocent, in my opinion."

Angry fires blazed in Blake's lavender colored eyes. He was pissed that Carrie thought Mr. Wraythe could have possibly killed him. Mr. Wraythe was like a second father to him. If he trusted anyone it was Mr. Wraythe!

Out of the corner of his eye, Blake noticed his so-called ' _best friend_ ' Devon getting cozy with his girlfriend Sadie...

He was angrier at Devon than Sadie though. He didn't really feel anything for Sadie to begin with. Sure she was cute, good in bed, and the lead singer of a rival heavy metal band \- _The_ _Necromancers_. She had approached Blake first. Blake hadn't thought there was anything really special about her and thought of Sadie as he did most of the girls in the music industry - as a slutty, gold digger. Blake didn't have any interest in anyone but himself.

This had led to some strange rumors that Blake might be gay, however, and even emotionally involved with one of his fellow band mates. Per his manager's suggestion, Blake had decided to go out with Sadie to put these distasteful rumors to rest. It had been a purely strategic relationship with both Blake and Sadie benefiting from the arrangement. If he truly cared about Sadie he would have been feeling jealous or heartbroken, but he felt nothing about Sadie's shameless behavior. He just felt cold inside.

Blake had never had much interest in women anyways. They all seemed 'the same' to him. They were simply uninteresting. He was more concerned with _himself_. Women were a dime a dozen. All of them had been ready to throw themselves at Blake because of his good looks, money, and fame. And they would leave him as soon as a bigger fish came along...

Devon wasn't crying and didn't look particularly sad - just _bored_! Blake's eyes widened when Devon let out a _yawn_! Now that _hurt_ ...!

"Devon, you fucking bastard..." A fierce, angry aura flared up around Blake.

_Epp!_ Rosalie watched the angry ghost in fear and could see his powerful, blazing aura. She could guess why Blake was angry and figured it had something to do with the hugging couple. Rosalie shook her head at Sadie. That girl was acting so shameless!

Carrie handed Rosalie back the binoculars, and the medium spotted the blonde-haired bass guitarist Joey Bones next. He was dressed in a black suit and had a pair of black wayfarers on his face. He was sniffling and looked as though he was holding back his tears which Rosalie thought was strange. If Joey was feeling sad why didn't he just let himself go and cry at his friend's funeral? Why was he holding his emotions back to appear unaffected? That didn't make much sense unless perhaps...he was feeling guilty?

Standing next to Joey, was _Erotic Corpses_ ' drummer - Vincent Sangre, who was trying to comfort the young man it seemed with a hand on Joey's shoulder. But even this behavior seemed slightly cold and Vincent didn't appear to be crying or affected by the funeral proceedings. Vincent was dressed in a black suit, had a red cravat on and had his signature round yellow sunglasses on his face. His long, red hair had been tied back into a tight ponytail with a black bow.

"What do you know about the blonde bass guitarist?" Rosalie asked Carrie softly.

Before Carrie could respond Blake did and the witch could tell by Rosalie's expression that Blake was speaking. "He's my band mate, Joey Bones. He wouldn't hurt a fly. And he's an idiot. He could never plan something as complex as a murder." Blake explained to Rosalie with a snort. "The guy burst into tears while watching _Titanic_ ...I can't believe he's not crying right now actually..."

Blake had just called Joey an idiot but there had been unmistakable affection in Blake's voice. Rosalie also noticed how Blake's expression softened as he continued to look at the other young man.

"Hey! What's he saying?" Carrie asked with a pout, feeling left out.

"Blake told me that his band mate, Joey Bones, wouldn't hurt a fly." Rosalie explained.

"Pfft." Carrie snorted. "I could have told you that. Joey has a reputation for being the softhearted one of the band. The one with the red hair is Vincent Sangre - he's _Erotic Corpses_ ' drummer. Joey looks innocent enough but I don't know much about Vincent..."

"He's a pervert." Blake put in.

Rosalie blushed.

Carrie gave Rosalie a curious look upon seeing her blush. "What did he say?"

"That...Vincent is a pervert." Rosalie said in an awkward manner.

Carrie began to laugh. "Ah, well, I did hear the rumors that Vincent is a womanizer."

Blake shook his head. "It's worse than that...Vincent seduces women and treats them like playthings. Once he gets bored of them he tosses them aside. He never goes out with a girl for more than one month." Blake revealed.

Rosalie gasped. "That's awful. How cruel." Rosalie quickly told Carrie what Blake had told her. Carrie's expression turned oddly disappointed at the news.

Rosalie's glasses slid down her nose for a moment and her eyes widened as she caught sight of several transparent figures approaching her from the nearby graves. _ACK!_ Rosalie froze in shock and horror. This is why she was always so careful not to make eye contact with ghosts because once they realized that Rosalie could see them they would follow her and torment her - sometimes for days before they'd finally give up and leave Rosalie alone when she didn't respond or react to their presence.

Rosalie recognized a few famous dead celebrities but this didn't make things any better. One of the ghosts looked similar to the ghost of her Aunt Freya in that it was crying black tears and the wounds it had died from seemed to be oozing black goo. This particular ghost also appeared to be less 'human' than the other ones. It opened his mouth abnormally wide and screamed in Rosalie's direction. She flinched. Her body was beginning to tremble...those ghosts that cried black tears were dangerous though she didn't really know why.

Blake suddenly noticed Rosalie's distressed state and looked up to see the large group of ghosts being attracted by Rosalie's presence. He raised an eyebrow at this phenomenon. But he supposed that a person who would see ghosts wasn't a common occurrence. And though Blake hadn't told Rosalie this - she seemed to be shinning more brightly than anyone else. Blake stepped up next to Rosalie and glared at the other ghosts using his intimidating presence to say 'Back off, this is _my_ medium'. The other ghosts paused once they noticed Blake's powerful presence and they began to turn around and float away. The ghost that was crying black tears wasn't as easily persuaded to leave however and continued his way towards Rosalie.

_Stubborn bastard._ Blake thought as he stalked towards the strange ghost and raised his fist. _If that's the way he wants it - fine!_ "HAH!" Blake threw a punch at the ghost's face and was surprised when it connected and sent the ghost flying backwards. Blake looked down at his fist in awe. Apparently, his touch could affect other ghosts. Blake smiled, that was convenient at least.

Rosalie let out a sigh of relief once Blake had managed to scare the ghosts away. She quickly straightened her glasses so that she wouldn't be seeing any more ghosts. But even if she did she knew that Blake would probably scare them away for her. Even in death, his mere presence was special.

Rosalie's attention was drawn next to-

"Cheers!" A young rockstar with spiked-up orange hair, and dark eyes had just popped the cork on a bottle of expensive champagne. The young man looked like a demon that had escaped from hell with his white makeup and black accents that reminded Carrie of _KISS_. The rockstar was wearing a black leather jacket with orange accents, and orange leather pants. He had several piercings in his ears, a nose piercing and a lip piercing. Satanic symbols hung from chains around his neck. There was a kind of wild, crazy look in his eyes. The rockstar cackled happily as he began to pour two glasses of champagne, which he handed to his two nearby companions.

One of his fellow band mates silently took the champagne glass, and put a straw in it before taking a sip. This man was wearing a skull mask, which Rosalie thought was completely inappropriate given the setting. This quiet, stoic man was tall, had wild, black, shoulder-length hair, was wearing a silver chain mail shirt with long sleeves, silver, faux leather pants and knee boots that had lots of straps and buckles. He looked like some kind of modern-day knight.

The other band mate was younger than the other two men, probably a high school student, Rosalie realized with surprise, but he appeared no less wild than his band mates. His face had also been painted white with black accents. The young man had short, two-inch long, spiked-up, neon green hair and wide chocolate brown eyes. He was shirtless at a funeral, which Rosalie also thought was extremely inappropriate since you could see his pierced nipples and bellybutton piercing. He was wearing a pair of tight leather pants. He stuck his tongue into the champagne glass and Rosalie saw his tongue piercing.

Rosalie couldn't believe what she was seeing as the orange-haired rockstar and high school boy with the nipple piercings laughed happily and openly. "Huh? What's going on...? Who are they?" Rosalie asked, completely bewildered by their openly hateful behavior. They looked like escaped demons from hell. Rosalie shuddered.

Blake and Carrie followed Rosalie's line of sight and both spoke at the same time: " _The Necromancers_."

"They're _Erotic Corpses_ ' rivals." Carrie began to explain, miffing off Blake. "Their lead singer is Sadie Skellington - the girl you've seen before and who is crying onto Devon's chest right now. Their lead guitarist is Damion Hellsing, the one with the crazy eyes. Their bass guitarist is the masochistic looking boy, Morg Di Morte and their drummer is the creepy, quiet one, Gol Gotha."

Blake snorted. "They're _not_ our rivals. They're not nearly as popular as _Erotic Corpses_. They'll never be as popular as us..." Blake growled.

Rosalie told Carrie what Blake said.

The witch raised an eyebrow. "Yea, but now that you're dead perhaps _The Necromancers_ have a chance to rise in the rock music charts on _Billboard_. _Erotic Corpses_ has suffered a huge blow with losing their lead singer."

Blake's jaw dropped. He looked at Damion's smiling, cackling face. "That fucking bastard...did he kill me? And now he's openly celebrating at my funeral? I'm going to kick his ass!"

Carrie tapped her chin thoughtfully. " _The Necromancers_ would have a lot to gain with your death, Blake - less competition, more money, more fame, more everything. And if Damion really did consider you both rivals - which he continually stated in interviews - it would make sense that he'd want to 'defeat' you. _The Necromancers_ used to be number one until _Erotic Corpses_ came along and stole the top spot in the rock music charts. That must have created some resentment..."

Rosalie noticed suddenly that Gol was staring in their direction. Rosalie shivered. It felt like Gol could see straight through her. "Hide!" Rosalie pushed Carrie and motioned for Blake to hide behind a tree.

"Whoa, what is it, Rosalie?" Carrie asked.

"What the fuck, beggar girl?" Blake growled.

"That guy...Gol. I think he saw us." Rosalie explained, worriedly as she began to chew on her lower lip.

"So?" Carrie peeked out from behind the tree and looked at Gol. "He's not looking over here anymore and it doesn't look like he's going to tell his friends about us so it looks like we're off Scott Free..."

Rosalie tentatively peeked around the tree and saw that Carrie was right but...her bad feeling didn't go away. There was something about Gol that set her nerves on fire. She knew that he had seen or at least sensed their presence. It was like he had eyes in the back of his head.

A girl with a bob of short black hair and thick red highlights, and who was wearing stylish rocker clothes consisting of a bra top and black miniskirt, approached Damion, smiling and flung her arm around his shoulders. Damion began to laugh along with the girl and handed her a glass of champagne. They clinked their glasses together. Morg joined in and everyone noticed that Morg was now in nothing but his boxers! And it was cold out!

Rosalie watched as Damion got pissed off at Morg and tried to punch him. Morg ducked and Damion began to chase him through the gravestones. "Put some fucking clothes on you masochistic pervert!"

"Who's that girl with the black and red hair...she looks awfully happy." Rosalie murmured.

"Tch." Blake made a disgusted noise. "That's Stylist Leila. I recently fired that useless bitch and it looks like Damion has hired her to be the band's new stylist. That fucking idiot...serves him right. She's an awful stylist. She was always trying to stick me in clothes that had polyester in them so that I'd end up sweating my ass off on stage. I also have extremely sensitive skin and can only wear 100% cotton items. Most synthetic materials make me break out into hives. I'll start coughing and sneezing...that bitch almost killed me when she tried to put me into this synthetic fur coat."

Once again, Rosalie told Carrie what Blake had said.

"Hmmm, so you fired her?" Carrie sounded thoughtful as she looked at Leila's ecstatic expression. "And it seems like you weren't very nice to her either, Mr. Arrogant. If you treat people like that it's no wonder they hate you, wish you dead, and even end up celebrating with champagne at your funeral! Yep, that's what you get for being an _asshole_."

Blake blinked. Say what? "What was that, Goth bitch? You trying to pick a fight with me?!" Blake cracked his knuckles and took a swing at Carrie.

"Carrie! Look out!" Rosalie warned.

But Blake's fist simply passed right through Carrie! Carrie began to laugh. "What? Did he just try to punch me? He's not very smart is he? He's dead. The dead cannot affect the living unless..." Here Carrie suddenly bit her lower lip. "It would probably be better if he didn't know about that..."

Blake was fuming. _Smartass Goth girl...freak...witch bitch..._

Rosalie was looking back and forth between Blake and Carrie worriedly as she wrung her hands together.

Then Rosalie noticed someone else who looked extremely happy that Blake was dead - Blake's driver, Harper.

Harper had turned his face away from the funeral group and ironically towards Rosalie and the others, so that they could see the huge grin spreading across Harper's face.

"Wow. He sure looks happy..." Rosalie stated getting Carrie and Blake's attention.

Carrie and Blake turned their attention to Harper and both noticed the wide, creepy grin on his face. He looked like Christmas had just come early and he'd gotten a big-ass, expensive present.

Blake looked at Harper in disbelief. "You want to know how much money I pay that useless asshole? Two hundred thousand dollars a year! And he has the nerve to _smile_ at my funeral! Pfft." Blake made a noise of disgust. "All he ever had to do was drive me places and drive me into the ghetto when I went looking for...entertainment. I occasionally needed a getaway vehicle but it's not like he was ever in any danger. I was there after all. Tch, Henry you fucking coward."

"Wasn't his name Harper?" Rosalie asked before repeating everything that Blake had just said to Carrie.

A knowing look came upon Carrie's face. "Yet another person who would have liked to see you dead...and who got their wish. You didn't even know his name. How sad."

"Oh shut up, bitch." Blake snarled. "I was pretty sure it was Henry...dammit...he looks like a Henry." Frowning, Blake caught sight of another familiar face - the manager of _Erotic Corpses_ : Brody Beck.

Brody was an ex-professional surfer and even though he had a job as prestigious as being _Erotic Corpses_ ' manager he was always dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, some board shorts and thong sandals. He still wore his blonde hair long and shaggy about his shoulders. Even now, at Blake's funeral, Brody was dressed in a black Hawaiian shirt with white flowers on it, a pair of black shorts and black sandals. He had his usual aviator sunglasses on his face and was smoking a cigar as he calmly watched the proceedings.

Brody was like a cool older brother figure to the members of _Erotic Corpses_. Blake considered Brody and him to be pretty close since the man had gotten Blake out of a lot of sticky situations including overzealous fan girls, and people that Blake had picked fights with. But...Brody didn't appear to be crying. In fact, with that fancy Cuban cigar in his mouth one might say he was celebrating if one didn't know that Brody was always smoking Cubans.

Rosalie suddenly got the feeling that she was being watched. She turned around and thought she caught sight of someone hiding behind a tree several feet away from their own hiding spot. A dark, mysterious, shadowy figure dressed all in black and with a full facemask on their face.

"T-T-There's s-s-someone behind that tree..." Rosalie revealed, pointing a trembling finger towards the tree. "Hiding...I think it's the murderer..."

Carrie and Blake looked at the tree curiously.

"I'll go. You girls stay here." Blake said as he started off for the tree.

The witch didn't see or hear Blake though, and so started off towards the tree too, but Rosalie reached out and grabbed Carrie's wrist, stopping her. "No...Blake said he'd go check it out first."

Carrie shrugged. "Okay...that makes sense. Having an invisible ally can come in handy."

Blake approached the tree and simply passed right through it to come face-to-face with Yoshida- _sensei_! His martial arts _sensei_ who had helped him to train since the age of twelve, so that one day Blake could find his parents' murderer and get his bloody revenge!

"Yoshida- _sensei_!" Blake called out, feeling relieved, and happy. But Blake was surprised that his _sensei_ was completely dressed like a _ninja_ in head-to-toe black with a matching facemask that only revealed Yoshida- _sensei_ 's unmistakable wise, sharp eyes.

Yoshida's dark eyes weren't looking at Blake though - but straight through him - beyond and to Blake's funeral. There were angry fires blazing in Ren Yoshida's dark eyes. Blake watched in awe as Yoshida took out a gleaming, star-shaped _shuriken_ and eyed the people around his grave suspiciously.

An aura of killing intent flared around Yoshida as he seemed to be debating something. It appeared as if he had an idea of who Blake's killer was but was unsure and so wasn't making his move yet.

Blake was taken aback that Yoshida- _sensei_ had gone out of his way to go to Blake's funeral. He was always giving Yoshida- _sensei_ a real hard time during his lessons. He regretted that now...

Yoshida- _sensei_ had been against Blake's penchant of looking for and getting into fights. Yoshida had tried to explain to Blake over and over again that he wasn't teaching Blake martial arts so that he could go around beating people up.

Those martial arts skills were to be used so that Blake could _defend_ himself. And to protect those he cared about. Blake had even been trained by Yoshida- _sensei_ on how to defend himself against a gun...

But Blake had been shot.

This could only mean that he had been killed by someone he _trusted_. Blake realized as he eyed the people at his funeral. Blake decided that perhaps Carrie was right and someone at his funeral was the killer. He'd never tell her that though.

Yoshida raised his hand as if he intended to throw the _shuriken_ but then he caught sight of Rosalie and Carrie and paused. He looked at them thoughtfully and suddenly tucked his _shuriken_ away. He then slunk into the shadows of the cemetery and disappeared.

"Yoshida- _sensei_ ..." Blake had been affected by Yoshida- _sensei_ 's appearance, the fact that he wanted to kill Blake's murderer, and how he was unable to even speak or argue with Yoshida- _sensei_ anymore. "Fuck..."

Blake returned to the girls, and Rosalie gave the ghost an expectant look. "That was my martial arts instructor - Yoshida- _sensei_. He...already left."

Rosalie told Carrie what Blake had said and eyed the singer curiously since his expression looked haggard all of a sudden.

"A martial arts instructor? Skilled in the ways of killing people, no doubt..." Carrie piped up.

Blake instantly grew angry. "What the fuck was that, Wicca witch?! Yoshida- _sensei_ didn't kill me...besides, he's a _weapons_ master. He would never touch a _gun_. It would be dishonorable. If he had wanted to kill me he would have done it with his weapon of choice - the _samurai_ sword. Besides, he was here to kill my murderer. I think he suspects someone at my funeral. He was even planning on kill them, but when he saw you girls he apparently changed his mind maybe because the two of you would have been blamed for it."

Rosalie quickly told Carrie what was going on, but the witch didn't look too convinced. "A weapons master? What better way to cover his tracks than to use a gun then? No one would have suspected him..."

"Yoshida- _sensei_ had no _reason_ to kill me!" Blake burst out angrily.

Rosalie repeated Blake's words.

"Oh? Are you so sure? Did you treat your ' _sensei_ ' as nicely as you seemed to treat everyone else? Did you ever argue about something? Disagree on something?" Carrie slyly suggested.

Blake felt a stab of guilt at Carrie's words. He had indeed treated Yoshida- _sensei_ disrespectfully on multiple occasions. He had always been arguing with his _sensei_ about Blake's late night thrill seeking for one thing. Had Yoshida- _sensei_ decided Blake was a risk to the people around him and had decided to kill Blake for that reason? Suddenly, Blake wasn't so sure that Yoshida- _sensei_ hadn't been the one who killed him...

Carrie gave Rosalie an expectant look, anticipating Blake's response, but Rosalie shook her head not wanting to comment on Blake's troubled expression.

Carrie smiled knowingly. "You see? Everyone is a suspect until proven innocent. In order for Blake to cross over, his unfinished business needs to be taken care of. In other words, finding his murderer. To do that we'll need to get close to investigate these people." Carrie began.

"I don't want your help." Blake spat at the Goth girl.

Rosalie repeated Blake's words with a blush.

"Huh? You ungrateful asshole..." Carrie snarled in his general direction. "I'm trying to help you!"

"Well, I don't need your help." Blake crossed his arms over his muscular chest. "I can't get over the fact that you think Mr. Wraythe is a suspect. That's why I'll get Rosalie to help me discover who my murderer is. And then I'll fucking kill the son of a bitch and get my revenge!" Vengeful fires burned brightly in Blake's lavender colored eyes.

Rosalie paled at Blake's words: _I'll fucking kill the son of a bitch and get my revenge_. Blake wanted her help...with murder. Rosalie began to tremble. She didn't think she could handle something like this.

"Rosalie, what's wrong?" Carrie asked, noticing Rosalie's freaked out expression

Rosalie gulped. "Blake wants _me_ to help him discover who his murderer is so that he can kill them and get revenge..."

"Kill them? He's dead. Does he want _you_ to kill his murderer for him?" Carrie asked, giving Rosalie a skeptical look.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Rosalie moaned raising a hand in front of her mouth as her stomach began to feel queasy.

Blake was looking confident now. "You'll just need to get hired by Wraythe Records so that you can spy on everyone and find out who killed me. Then I'll know whose ass to kick! I don't care that I'm dead...I'll find a way to get my revenge! I'll kill the mother fucker who shot me!"

Rosalie frowned. Get hired by Wraythe Records? Spy on people she had nothing to do with and help Blake get revenge - which may end up with someone else dying? _No way! No way! No way!_ Rosalie put her head in her hands. Rosalie had finally gotten herself a job! She was saving money for her father! Her father was her number one concern and priority! Rosalie had no interest in something as pointless as _revenge_.

Rosalie shook her head. "No. I'm sorry Blake, but...I won't help you. I just managed to get myself a job. And I'm saving money for..." Rosalie bit her lower lip and decided Blake didn't need to know about her tragic life story. "I'm sorry. But Carrie can help you..." She suggested.

Blake looked at Carrie and shook his head. He didn't trust Carrie but he trusted Rosalie. It had to be Rosalie. "No. It has to be you." Blake said firmly.

"Well, I'm sorry, Blake, but...I won't help you." Rosalie reiterated and turned to leave.

She did not look back. This wasn't even any of her business...she had nothing to do with Blake White and his revenge. Revenge was _so_ not her thing.

She was Rosalie Galloway, a poor American girl. She had nothing to do with the glamorous world of celebrities and rockstars. Rosalie was a normal, well, ordinary girl. Things like ghosts, murder and revenge didn't have anything to do with her.

Rosalie didn't want to _hurt_ anyone...

Rosalie left the cemetery without looking back. On the bus ride home she thought about how she had probably seen the last of Blake White and couldn't explain the strange pang in her chest at the thought. She felt a little guilty about it, but...it couldn't be helped. Rosalie couldn't help Blake White get his bloody revenge - she was a nurse for Pete's sake! Rosalie had no interest in helping Blake with his revenge and killing a fellow human being. She was a nurse and to her the most precious thing was _life_. She would never help Blake _kill_ someone.

That night, Rosalie worked at 7-Eleven from eleven o'clock PM to seven o'clock AM, and then returned to her apartment. When she returned to her apartment, she dressed in her cat pj's, and fell into a restless sleep that had her tossing and turning throughout most of the morning. She had set her alarm to wake her up at three o'clock PM so that she'd have at least eight hours of sleep. Her alarm went off and the radio turned on. Ironically, _Erotic Corpses_ ' _Zombie Awakening_ was playing and Blake White's voice filled the room: "I'm alive! Yea! Yea! I'm back from hell!"

Rosalie didn't feel like getting up just yet and so lay in her bed with her eyes closed, listening to Blake's soothing singing voice for a few more moments. How could a man's voice that was singing punk rock be strangely soothing? She wondered to herself. And then the singing seemed to grow in volume until it felt like Blake was singing right there in her tiny bedroom. A tiny smile formed on Rosalie's face.

But...Blake White was dead.

Her smile turned into a frown, and she restlessly turned on her side and opened her eyes to see:

Blake White was lying on the bed next to her \- close enough that even with her nearsightedness she was able to see his face, which was about an inch away from her own - clearly. Rosalie did what any sensible young woman would do upon finding a ghost in her bed - she screamed.

"Ahhh!" Rosalie screamed, abruptly sitting up.

Blake sat up too and tried to shove his index fingers into his ears. "What the fuck? Dammit, shut up! Why are you screaming? It's just me. It's me, Blake!"

Rosalie gave Blake a disbelieving stare and continued to scream. "I know it's _you_ \- that's why I'm screaming."

"If you _know_ it's me then you shouldn't be screaming!" Blake shot back in a frustrated tone and gave her a surprisingly hurt look. "You should have no reason to be afraid."

Rosalie blinked. "You're a ghost! Of course, I'm afraid!" _I've always just ignored the ghosts I can see. I've never even talked to one of them! This is so bizarre..._

Rosalie and Blake glared at each other heatedly.

Blake suddenly looked Rosalie over and tsked. He took in her bedhead - her wild mop of black curly hair, her tired-looking, ice-blue eyes, and the light blue pj's with the pattern of little cats and fish bones on them. "Your hair is a mess...and are those pj's? What girl your age wears pj's? You should be wearing one of those sexy, silk negligees from _Victoria's Secret_."

Rosalie fumbled to get her glasses from the bedside table and quickly put them on so that she could glare at Blake more clearly. She had turned bright red. "Y-Y-You shouldn't even be in here! This is _my_ room! A lady's room! You...pervert! Get out!" Rosalie picked up a pillow and threw it at Blake.

It passed right through him. Blake yawned and raised an eyebrow at Rosalie. "Is that all you got?"

"Arghhhh!" Rosalie tugged on her hair, out of frustration.

Blake watched the quirky Rosalie with his chin in hand and thought she was really fun to tease.

Rosalie looked at the time on her alarm clock. It read 3:35 PM. "Ahhh! I'm going to be late...!" Rosalie exclaimed suddenly and hopped out of bed. She went to her dresser and pulled out a black t-shirt with a white, angry looking cat on it that read: 'White and Fluffy', a pair of jeans, and clean underwear. She entered the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

Rosalie quickly shed her clothes off and stepped into the shower. She began to shampoo and condition her hair with frantic motions, and then squirted some oatmeal body wash onto a loofa before beginning to scrub her body. However-

"You dress so nerdy - no guy would believe you were hiding a body that looked like that. You actually have nice boobs." Blake stated, as he unabashedly looked Rosalie's naked body up and down with a critical eye.

Rosalie slowly turned her face to see Blake White standing in her bathroom and blatantly staring at her naked body! How the hell did he...? Rosalie wrapped her arms around her chest and screamed. "Ahhh! Get out! Get out! You pervert!" Rosalie sunk to her knees and tears sprung to her eyes. "Don't touch me!"

Blake yawned and raised an eyebrow at Rosalie's over-reaction. "Are you a complete idiot? How could I touch you...I'm a _ghost_. I was murdered, remember?" Blake picked his ear in an obstinate gesture.

Rosalie looked up and sniffled. That's right...she kept forgetting. Blake was dead...a ghost...that could pass through walls. That's how he got in the bathroom! "Please just...leave." Rosalie said, her voice quavering.

Blake shook his head and gave Rosalie a sly look. "Not uh. Not until you promise you'll help me get my revenge." Blake crossed his arms over his rock-hard chest and gave Rosalie an expectant stare.

Rosalie frowned. That was a promise she just couldn't make. Why couldn't Blake just leave her alone? "I'm sorry, I just...can't. I can't..." Rosalie began to tremble.

Blake began to feel bad - which was surprising. He didn't really care about anyone other than himself. "Tch. Well, I'll continue to haunt you until you change your mind, beggar girl. I'm going to drive you nuts! Count on it! I've grown tired of looking at your repulsive body anyways, so I'll just go wait in your room..." Blake declared as he stomped out of the bathroom and right through the bathroom door.

Rosalie's life flashed before her eyes. Blake White was going to haunt her until she agreed to help him. _Oh no!_ Rosalie clutched her head in despair. _My life is cursed._ Rosalie quickly finished her shower, got dressed, washed her face, brushed her teeth and tried to tame her wild hair. She was unsuccessful and so pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail.

Rosalie took a deep breath and left the bathroom. Blake was seated on her bed and looked at her expectantly as she walked out of the bathroom. Rosalie decided to ignore him and made her way out of her bedroom and to the kitchen. She put a pan of water on the stove to boil so that she could use her coffee press to make a cup of coffee. Her coffee maker had blown a fuse and Rosalie didn't have the money to buy a new one.

Blake followed Rosalie curiously into the kitchen. He looked at the pot of water on the stove and quirked his head. "Are you going to make tea? Coffee?" Blake asked.

Rosalie ignored him and took out her coffee jar before scooping out two scoops of coffee, which she put into her _Bodum_.

Blake nodded to himself. "Ah, you're going to make coffee with a coffee press? You don't have a coffee maker? I have a Lamborghini Coffee Maker. It cost $1,750 dollars. It makes the best coffee, espresso, cappuccino...it even has a gear shift type handle." Blake boasted and his eyes seemed to shine as he thought about his coffee maker.

_Lamborghini?_ Rosalie wondered. _Like the Italian sports car?_ Rosalie had to admit she was curious about Blake's coffee maker but she stubbornly kept her mouth shut and ignored him. She turned the burner off once the water was boiled and poured the water into her coffee press. She went to her fridge, opened it, took out a loaf of bread, and took out two slices of toast from the bread bag.

The sound of the refrigerator door opening brought Rosalie's five black cats running into the kitchen. "Hello my darlings." Rosalie greeted them warmly.

Blake watched interestedly as the cats appeared out of their hiding places from around Rosalie's small living room and ran for the kitchen. One...two...three...four...five cats total. Blake counted and his eyes widened.

Rosalie took down a pan, turned the flame on again and used the pan to toast her bread while her coffee brewed. Once her toast was toasted Rosalie put it on a plate and turned around to press her coffee.

"That was so ghetto." Blake stated.

The cats had taken up positions to watch Rosalie make her breakfast and Blake saw that one was seated on top of the refrigerator, another was perched in one of the shelves that was above the stove, one was sitting right by the stove and the other two were around somewhere. The three that Blake could see were staring in his direction. Blake shook his head. They couldn't be staring _at_ him, right?

"You sure have a lot of cats..." Blake began and watched as the cat named Lucky, hopped up onto the counter - grabbed Rosalie's toast with its maw and ran off. "Ah, Rosalie, look out! Your toast-!" Blake tried to warn her.

Too late. "Lucky..." Rosalie let out a resigned sigh. Lucky always did that. She had finished making the coffee and pressing it, and so poured herself a cup before sitting at the counter to have her breakfast.

Blake frowned at her pathetic, meager breakfast. "Aren't you going to put anything in your coffee? Milk? Sugar? Cinnamon? Chocolate? Girls don't usually drink their coffee black. And aren't you going to make another piece of toast? Lucky stole that last one. Shouldn't you make some eggs or have some cereal too? You can't possibly be thinking of just having toast...beggar girl.

"I always have scrambled eggs, pancakes, toast with jam and butter, bacon, sausages, freshly squeezed orange juice...obviously I never made the juice myself. I usually had Manager Brody do it." Blake rambled on.

Rosalie continued to ignore Blake and washed her plate and cup. She fed her cats and got ready to leave. It was getting colder out as winter approached, and so she put on a jacket that had patches sewn in places where she had to fix it.

"Goodbye my kitties, I'll be back tonight after work...well, I guess I should say I'll be back in the morning." Rosalie explained before grabbing her purse, apartment keys and leaving the apartment.

"Hey! Wait up!" Blake called after Rosalie as he phased through her front door and took off after Rosalie. He was surprised when she didn't take the elevator. "Hey! Why aren't you taking the elevator?"

Rosalie did not respond. She walked down the stairs and exited the apartment building once she reached the first floor. She speed walked her way to the bus stop and silently waited for the bus to arrive.

Blake walked up and stood besides her. "I see how it is...you're ignoring me. Are you that pissed off that I saw you naked? Geesh, what a prude..." Blake let out a frustrated little huff.

Rosalie flinched but otherwise did not respond.

Blake scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Alright, I'm sorry...I won't peek on your naked body again...it's not like I _wanted_ to see _you_ naked anyways, beggar girl..."

Rosalie's eye twitched but she continued to remain silent. She wouldn't grace him with a response.

The bus arrived and Rosalie got on it. Blake followed after her and sat down besides her. Some guy almost sat down next to Rosalie where Blake was, but the rockstar ghost glared daggers at the guy - who got an unexplainable chill running down his spine and ran to sit somewhere else.

Rosalie sighed.

"Oh, come on, beggar girl, say something already. It's not like you can't hear me..." Blake was saying as he watched Rosalie's face closely. Absolutely no response. Blake's expression fell. "Hey...you can still hear and see me, right? I'm right here...Rosalie...can you see me? Can you hear me?" Blake waved a hand in front of Rosalie's face. "I exist dammit! I'm not...I'm not..." Blake faltered.

The bus stopped at a stop and Rosalie got out. Blake followed her down the sidewalk with his head hanging dejectedly. The singer raised an eyebrow when Rosalie abruptly turned down an alleyway and Blake floated after her hurriedly. Rosalie spun around and glared at Blake. "I see you. I hear you. You exist Blake White. You can't expect me to talk to you in front of other people though. They'll think I'm crazy and have me committed to an insane asylum."

Blake inexplicably felt like hugging Rosalie. She could see him! Hear him! _Phew._ "Ah, I guess you're right." Blake gave Rosalie a sheepish grin with a hand behind his head.

"Now, I'm already late, so don't get in my way, rockstar ghost." Rosalie declared as she stomped out of the alleyway with Blake following swiftly behind her. She speed walked down the street, and soon arrived at a building which had a sign hanging out front that read: _Animal Rescue Center_. There were also several tropical plants planted just outside of the building. Blake looked at the animal rescue center curiously. He thought Rosalie worked at the 7-Eleven.

Rosalie entered the building and was immediately greeted by a vet dressed in a white lab coat. "Ah, Rosalie, you're finally here. We were waiting for you. The other volunteers from _Stray Cat Alliance_ have already arrived." The woman explained.

"Sorry I'm late." Rosalie appologized.

"It's okay, follow me..." The vet said. "We have twenty stray cats to do today."

Rosalie nodded and followed the veterinarian into a vet room. In the room were several other vets and volunteers, an operating table, and shelves were visible stocked with various medical equipment and supplies. An orange and white striped cat that had already been put under anesthesia lay on the table.

Blake followed Rosalie into the vet room and looked at the male cat curiously. He swallowed thickly. "Hey Rosalie...what are they going to do to that poor cat?"

Rosalie began to put on a pair of rubber gloves. "Is this the first cat we're going to neuter, today?" Rosalie asked aloud.

"That's right..." One of the volunteers gave Rosalie a strange look, like duh.

"They're going to castrate that poor cat..." Blake said, shaking his head and giving the male cat a sympathetic look.

"Hopefully this will increase its chances of getting adopted and lower the number of stray cats on the street." Rosalie said aloud.

The vets and volunteers nodded and smiled. Rosalie was one of the volunteers and members of _Stray Cat Alliance -_ a nonprofit organization that informed people about spay and neuter programs in their area. Recently, _Stray Cat Alliance_ started a program in South Los Angeles called 'I spayed L.A.' to trap, neuter, and return stray cats.

"Let us begin the procedure..." The female veterinarian said.

The team began the procedure and Blake left the room since he didn't want to distract Rosalie. Rosalie assisted the veterinarians to spay and neuter all twenty cats with the help of the other volunteers.

The singer waited for Rosalie in the waiting room and several hours passed. Once the operations were finished Rosalie was allowed to leave. "Thanks for helping out again Rosalie!" "Thanks Rosalie, you were a really big help today!" "Thanks Rosalie, see you next week!" The vets and volunteers said to Rosalie as she left the vet room and made her way into the waiting room where Blake was seated.

Rosalie smiled at them and nodded shyly.

"So how much do you get paid for this gig?" Blake asked as he followed Rosalie out of the Animal Rescue Center.

"Nothing. I'm a volunteer here." Rosalie explained in a low voice as she made her way to the bus stop.

Blake gawked at Rosalie. "You did all that work for _free_? No shit." His tone of voice showed his disbelief.

"I love animals." Rosalie explained softly. "More than people...they're much easier to get along with. They understand me. Animals are pure-hearted. They always forgive. They're loyal. They never do anything evil unless it's something their instincts are telling them they have to do in order to survive."

Blake began to feel jealous for some reason. "Pfft. What's so great about animals? It's not like they can sing you rock songs - like me." Blake puffed his chest up with pride.

"Birds can sing." Rosalie found herself teasing Blake. "And I assure you that God has made birds that have even more beautiful voices than your own, Blake White. Don't be so full of yourself. The world is a very big place."

Blake pouted. The singer was allergic to cats and dogs, and so had never had any pets. But now that he was dead their fur didn't seem to bother him and send him into a sneezing fit.

Even though Rosalie had said that - she didn't really mean it. Blake's voice was... _amazing_. It could move one to tears. But Rosalie decided he didn't need to know she felt that way. Rosalie hid a smile behind her hand. The medium stopped in front of the bus stop and got on the next bus that arrived a few minutes later.

"Now where are we going?" Blake asked, but Rosalie irritatingly remained silent!

The bus stopped at a stop that was close by to Good Samaritan Hospital next. Rosalie got off of the bus and took a deep breath. She was there to visit her father and had to avoid Dr. Cole at all cost. She had her .45 with her this time around, safely stowed away in her purse.

She was still alone with no one to depend on except herself. Well, there was Blake White, floating next to her, but he was dead. She sighed. It wasn't like he could help her if she needed it. Not anymore...

Rosalie remembered the night Blake had saved her from those rapists. She was supposed to be Blake's 'slave' after that since she owed him one. But then...someone had shot Blake in the head and she had gotten out of that deal. She realized that she still owed him one though, and really should be helping him find his murderer, but...she didn't want to hurt anyone. Rosalie bit her lower lip, feeling torn.

Rosalie clutched her purse tightly to her side and entered Good Samaritan Hospital through the automatic sliding doors. Rosalie was terrified of coming to the hospital because she might run into Dr. Cole, but...she had to visit her poor, lonely father, who was dying of cancer. A deep breath to steel herself, Rosalie made her way into the hospital lobby.

Blake shrugged and followed behind her - curious about why the gloomy girl was here and wondering if she had more volunteer work to do. Rosalie made her way to the elevator and pressed the elevator button. A few seconds later, the elevator arrived and Rosalie began to ride it to the 6th floor. There was a blonde-haired, little girl with wide blue eyes on the elevator with a slightly transparent body. Rosalie gasped and pressed her back against the elevator wall. _A ghost girl._ Rosalie tried not to look at the bruises on her throat, tried not to think about what had happened to that poor abused little girl. The little girl's face turned to regard Rosalie and she took a step towards the medium. Rosalie paled but then Blake moved to stand protectively next to her and the ghost girl stopped moving. The little girl just stood there, eerily silent and stared at Rosalie with hungry eyes.

The elevator arrived at the 6th floor and Rosalie let out a breath of relief as she exited the elevator and did not look back. Rosalie began to make her way down the hall with Blake floating behind her. Rosalie didn't look through the open hospital doors because she didn't want to see any more ghosts...ghosts of people who had died in this hospital. Some of the ghosts were from decades ago, others were more recent. Hospitals were breeding grounds for ghosts though and usually a place Rosalie would have rather avoided. Blake noticed the receptionist make a phone call upon seeing Rosalie arrive and gave her a suspicious look since she didn't say anything to Rosalie as she walked past.

Rosalie made her way to room 607 and opened the door. She entered the room and closed the door behind her. A single bed was in the room that had a single window, and lying in the bed was a 50-something year old man with black hair like Rosalie's that had streaks of gray, gray, sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, and a thin mustache.

The man was sitting up in bed and looking out the window at the maple trees that now had bright orange leaves. Fall was upon them and the weather was getting steadily colder and colder. There was a bit of frost on the windows already.

It was a relatively nice hospital room and Blake knew it was probably costly to be a live-in patient there. "Hello Dad." Rosalie said softly as she greeted her father.

_Dad?_ Blake thought with a pang in his chest, remembering his own father.

Edgar turned his head to look at Rosalie and smiled as soon as he caught sight of her. "Rosalie, honey...how are you?" Edgar noticed that Rosalie was no longer wearing her nurse's outfit but didn't say anything about it.

Rosalie approached the bed and took a seat next to the bed so she could reach out and hold her father's hand. "I'm good, Dad...really good..."

"Well, that's good then..." Edgar smiled and nodded. The two remained silent and just kept each other company for well over an hour.

Blake was surprised at how quiet the two of them were being. The silence was driving him a bit nuts. He didn't _do_ quiet. He was a punk rockstar. The louder the better. "Doesn't your father have a radio he can listen to?" Blake suggested.

"Dad, mind if we put on the radio?" Rosalie asked.

Edgar shook his head. "No."

Rosalie spotted an alarm clock on the bedside table and turned on the radio. She flipped through the stations until-

"Stop." Blake said.

_Erotic Corpses_ was playing on that station. Rosalie cringed. She didn't think her father could handle punk rock music in his weak state. "I can change it if this kind of music bothers you, Dad."

Edgar surprisingly shook his head, a glint in his gray eyes, "No, I like it. It's... _lively_."

Blake puffed out his chest with pride. _Yea, I'm so the man_. "Well, at least someone has good taste around here." Blake chided Rosalie and then he began to sing along with his own voice.

Edgar began to move his head to the beat of the song and then his eyes began to tear up. Rosalie immediately became concerned. "Dad! What's wrong?"

"No, it's nothing...it's just that I heard on the news that this young man died. Isn't this Blake White that we're listening to? Such a shame...so young...so talented...to commit suicide. Such a tragedy." Edgar shook his head sadly.

Rosalie frowned grimly. "Dad...he didn't commit suicide. He was murdered."

Edgar's eyes widened and he gave his daughter a searching look. "How do you know that, Rosalie?"

"Ah...a friend of mine told me. He's absolutely sure of it." Rosalie explained evasively.

"I see." Edgar sank back onto his pillow suddenly feeling short of breath. "That's horrible. What kind of person would kill someone so young and talented...that person is a horrible person, Rosalie."

Rosalie began to chew on her lower lip. "But...even if he or she is a horrible person it wouldn't be right for someone to get _revenge_ upon him or her for Blake's sake, right Dad?"

Edgar hummed thoughtfully. "Revenge? Perhaps not, but Blake White deserves justice. His murderer must be found and brought to trial - let the law decide his or her punishment. Only then can Blake's soul truly rest in peace."

"Justice..." Rosalie echoed.

A nurse entered the room at that moment. "Ah, I'm sorry I need to run some tests on your father, Rosalie." The nurse had a strained look on her face as if she was just trying to be polite but what she really wanted to do was to glare at Rosalie.

"Oh, hi Nurse Marlene." Rosalie greeted her father's nurse whom she recognized. Nurse Marlene had been one of Rosalie's coworkers until Rosalie had been fired. She was a pretty brunette with a smattering of cute freckles across her face. Rosalie nodded and stood up from her chair. "No worries, I understand. I'll be going then. Bye Dad. Feel better."

Edgar smiled and nodded. "Thank you, honey." He had a sad, wistful look on his face.

Blake followed Rosalie out of the hospital room with his hands behind his head. "You have a cool father, Rosalie."

"You think so?" She asked softly. "I think so too." Rosalie smiled. However-

Rosalie had been looking at Blake, who was on her left, and so didn't see the hand that suddenly emerged from a door on her right. This hand covered Rosalie's mouth and pulled her into a room - the door of which was swiftly closed.

"What the fuck?" Blake burst out and looked at the closed door. "Shit!" Blake began to panic before he remembered that he could pass through walls. "Oh, right."

Blake quickly stepped through the door and inside of the hospital room. The blinds had been lowered and it was pitch black inside of the room, but Blake could make out two figures in front of him:

Rosalie and a mysterious man who had a hold of her. The man still had one hand over Rosalie's mouth and his other hand was wrapped firmly around her waist. Rosalie's back was against the man's chest. Rosalie was struggling in the man's powerful grasp and she stepped on his foot using all her strength.

The man grunted in pain and loosened his hold upon Rosalie long enough for her to escape. Rosalie quickly got away and reached into her shoulder bag to pull out her gun. Rosalie walked backwards and flipped on the light switch to reveal that her own suspicions had been correct about the identity of her mysterious assailant. It was Dr. Cole.

As soon as the lights came on, Blake saw that Rosalie had somehow gotten her hands on a gun and had it pointed at a man who was obviously a doctor at the hospital. The doctor was tall and handsome with slicked back black hair, dark blue eyes, pale skin, a long white lab coat and shinny, leather _Ferragamos_.

_What the hell?_ Blake didn't know what the hell was going on. Who the hell was this guy and why had he just attacked Rosalie?

"Dr. Cole..." Rosalie greeted, her voice trembling.

"Hello Rosalie." Dr. Cole purred in a voice as smooth as black silk. "I see you remembered to bring your little toy this time. Pity." Dr. Cole put his hands out in a helpless gesture. "And here I was hoping we could have a little fun."

Rosalie held the gun pointed at Dr. Cole, her hand shaking. "Stay back...don't come any closer or I'll...I'll shoot!"

Dr. Cole raised an eyebrow at Rosalie. "Will you now? Rosalie, Rosalie, Rosalie. I _know_ you. And apparently, I know you better than you know yourself. You're a nurse. The most important thing to a nurse is - _life_. You could never take someone's life, Rosalie. You won't hurt me." Dr. Cole declared as he took a step closer to Rosalie. "You know, you're full of openings." Dr. Cole looked over Rosalie's stance - how she was fully facing him, gun raised in one hand. "Tsk." He shook his head at her. "A knife or gun is just a useless piece of metal if you don't know how to use it properly."

Blake frowned at Dr. Cole's insightful words. _Is he a martial artist too? Fuck...every rich bastard in California thinks he should be a martial artist these days and is blowing their money on lessons._

Dr. Cole suddenly kicked out with his right foot and sent Rosalie's gun flying out of her hand.

"Look out, Rosalie!" Blake tried to warn her but his warning came too late.

"Ah!" Rosalie cried as Dr. Cole's foot hit her wrist painfully and caused her to drop the gun. Dr. Cole approached Rosalie with swift strides. Rosalie looked up at Dr. Cole fearfully - frozen like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Shit! Run Rosalie! Get out of this room!" Blake yelled at her. "You idiot!"

Dr. Cole's hand shot out and wrapped itself around Rosalie's throat. The heart surgeon smiled evilly - he had a trapped a scared little rabbit. "You've been a very naughty girl, Rosalie. No one can escape me...you belong to me. Didn't I already tell you - your heart _will_ be mine. Be mine, and I too will be yours. Today, I'm going to make love to you, Rosalie. I'll _make_ you love me." Dr. Cole fondled Rosalie's hair with his free hand.

Blake was beginning to get the picture now. This Dr. Cole character was some kind of sick pervert _and_ he knew martial arts. _Fuck!_ Rosalie had to get the hell out of there! "Rosalie! What are you doing? Fight back! Push him! Scream! Bite him! Scratch him! Come on! Fight!" Blake shouted at her.

But Rosalie was completely paralyzed with fear and her body was trembling. Her ice-blue eyes began to fill up with tears. _I'm sorry Blake._ She thought. She was so pathetic. _Please don't watch this..._

"Dammit. Do _something_!" Blake insisted as he tried to shove Rosalie from behind.

And then the strangest thing happened as he tried to push on Rosalie's back with his right hand. Instead of his hand passing through Rosalie like it should have - it went inside of Rosalie's body and got stuck inside. "What the?" Blake exclaimed as he tried to pull his hand out.

Dr. Cole began to lift up Rosalie's t-shirt and Blake's eyes flared with anger. "Fucking pervert!"

SLAP! Rosalie slapped Dr. Cole hard across the face. The doctor looked at Rosalie in shock as he stumbled backwards, and the medium was looking equally shocked. What had just happened?

"You just hit me." Dr. Cole said slowly.

Rosalie paled, "I didn't..."

"You don't want to make me angry, Rosalie." Dr. Cold said in a dangerous tone as he approached Rosalie with menacing steps. He began to raise his hand-

Rosalie threw her arms over her head to protect herself. "I'm sorry!"

"Fucking bastard, don't you dare touch her!" Blake yelled and tried to stride forward - through Rosalie.

Punch. Block. Dr. Cole looked at his caught fist in a mixture of shock and surprise. He had just flung a swift punch at Rosalie, who had actually caught his fist in her right hand. Her grip tightened on Dr. Cole's hand so that he couldn't take his hand back. "Impossible..." Dr. Cole muttered to himself.

Rosalie had her head bowed but when she looked up, Dr. Cole noticed that her eyes were no longer ice-blue but a pale lavender color.

Blake had just completely possessed Rosalie's body.

There was no longer fear in Rosalie's eyes but a burning, angry fire. "You'd actually hit a defenseless, weak girl like Rosalie - you sick, cowardly bastard!" Blake shoved Dr. Cole back causing him to stumble again.

Dr. Cole gave Rosalie a confused and wary look. "Rosalie?"

Blake cracked his knuckles and his head from side-to-side. "It's a nice feeling being in a body again...even if it is a weak woman's body this will be good enough to kick your ass." Blake moved forward and threw a punch at Dr. Cole.

Dr. Cole blocked and looked at 'Rosalie' in surprise. "Has someone been taking martial arts lessons?"

"Guilty." Blake said as he began to throw a series of lightning punches Dr. Cole's way.

Dr. Cole raised his own fists to deflect and block, and tried to fling a few punches of his own. "I guess I don't need to hold back then." The heart surgeon declared with a smirk before sending a roundhouse kick at Rosalie's head.

Blake leapt backwards and moved his head from side-to-side to avoid the attack.

Dr. Cole got into a right hand stance and then a left hand stance, his feet shuffling back and forth before he approached Blake and kicked out again.

Blake blocked the kick with his wrist. Another kick came at Blake - this one seemed to happen in slow motion to Blake who caught Dr. Cole's leg and using the doctor's temporarily vulnerable position sent his elbow crashing into Dr. Cole's face.

BAM! Dr. Cole staggered backwards and rubbed his chin. "You've been studying Muay Thai? Isn't that a bit much for a cowardly, weak girl like you, Rosalie?"

"I think you've been underestimating me. Not all women are weak, asshole. I'll prove it to you right now as I kick your ass!" Blake grinned.

Frustrated, Dr. Cole sent a series of spinning roundhouse kicks Blake's way.

Blake easily avoided the kicks and moved in close to punch Dr. Cole. Dr. Cole's reflexes were faster than Blake anticipated and Dr. Cole dodged his head back and forth and avoided getting punched. But Dr. Cole didn't see the kick coming.

BAM! Dr. Cole was kicked across the face and Blake started forward - leapt up into the air and rammed his knee into Dr. Cole's chest - knocking the wind out of the doctor.

Dr. Cole blinked at 'Rosalie' in disbelief. That gloomy girl had just fractured one of his ribs. What the hell was going on?!

Blake got into a Muay Thai stance and prepared to attack again. However-

There was a sudden knock at the door.

"Dr. Cole? Are you in there? We need you in the ER, stat." Came a nurse's frantic sounding voice.

Blake lowered his fists, and gave Dr. Cole a cocky look. "Looks like you've learned your lesson, doc. If you know what's good for you you'll stay far away from me. Next time, I'll kill you and I won't need a gun to do it. I'll use this weak body - my hands, elbows and knees to send your perverted ass to hell."

Dr. Cole removed his hands from his torso, eyebrow raised. "Touché, Rosalie. Touché." Dr. Cole repeated grimly as he walked past Rosalie and to the door. The doctor opened the door, exited, and didn't look back.

### Chapter 5: Search and Destroy

Blake could feel Rosalie's body beginning to resist the possession and took a mental step backwards - right out of Rosalie's body.

Rosalie spun around and gawked at Blake. "You just...used my body..." Throughout the entire ordeal, Rosalie had been able to watch what was going on as Blake controlled her body, but had been unable to do anything. Like being a passenger in a car that one isn't driving.

Blake scratched the back of his head and gave Rosalie a sheepish look. "Yea, I think I just possessed your body."

"Possessed..." Rosalie's pale cheeks became tinged with pink. "You perverted ghost! How dare you _enter_ my body!" The medium shrieked and attacked Blake.

Blake put up his arm in defense and dodged Rosalie's pathetic punches and slaps. "Whoa. Is that any way to _thank_ me? I just saved your pathetic ass - _again_. You are such an _ungrateful_ girl."

"My glasses...!" Rosalie reached into her pocket and put her round glasses back on.

Rosalie and Blake glared at each other for a moment before Rosalie sighed in defeat. Blake was right...he had saved her yet again! "I...thank you...but this doesn't change anything. I'm still not going to help you with your revenge!" Rosalie stated and stormed out of the hospital room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Blake just phased right through it and floated after Rosalie. "Hey, wait up! Why not? I just helped you! You should repay me!"

Rosalie shook her head. "I...can't. I finally got a job and I'm saving money for my father's medicine and medical treatments." Rosalie began to explain in a hushed voice. "He has cancer, Blake." Rosalie revealed in a tortured tone.

"You can get another job at Wraythe Records - you'd make more money there anyways. Then you can help me figure out who murdered me!" Blake insisted with a huff.

Rosalie stopped in the middle of the hallway and kept her head lowered. "It's not that easy. You don't understand. It's not so easy to get a job." Rosalie spun around to glare at Blake. "The world is not so easy! Though maybe for you it is. You've had everything handed to you on a silver platter. But not me. Life is hard. Very hard and I'm all alone. I just have myself to depend on, so stop trying to mess up my life. The life I'm trying so desperately to keep held together the way it already is!"

Blake frowned at Rosalie. "You're acting like a coward. You're just...running away. I thought you wanted to be a nurse...so then why are you working at a 7-Eleven?! You're limiting yourself...your potential. I saw you operate on those animals. That was...pretty amazing. So why don't you just do what you want to do?!"

"It's not so easy...just leave me alone! I'm going to be late for work!" Rosalie complained as she left the hospital and made her way to the bus stop. Blake stubbornly followed after her, floating behind.

Rosalie rode the bus to the stop nearest the 7-Elevent, got off, and walked the rest of the way to the convenience store. Rosalie approached the automatic doors, which swished open as she entered. It was 11:05 PM. Rosalie was five minutes late and Carrie was already behind the counter.

In front of Carrie were an open _Book of Shadows_ and an open Bible. Random things were scattered all over the checkout counter: a corked vial of clear liquid, a small pouch, a head of garlic, and a silver, ball, incense censer with a chain attached to it.

Carrie looked up when the door made its chiming sound. "Oh, hey Rosalie." She looked next to Rosalie keenly. "Is Blake with you?"

"Er, yea..." Rosalie replied, noticing the strange glint in Carrie's eyes.

Carrie picked up the vial, walked around the counter, and towards Rosalie. "Point to where he is."

"Okay..." Rosalie said and pointed in Blake's direction.

Carrie uncorked the vial of holy water and splashed it in the air where Blake was. "Ha! Take that evil spirit! Be purified and begone!"

Blake flinched as the water passed through him - but nothing happened.

"Is he still here?" The witch asked.

Rosalie and Blake both formed sweat-drops on the sides of their heads. "Er, yes." Rosalie said.

Carrie opened a tiny pouch next and flung some salt in the air in Blake's direction. "Begone, Evil Spirit! In the name of Jesus Christ! Free thyself of thy Earthly shackles! Still there?"

"Yep." Rosalie droned.

Carrie tried the incense ball next that was filled with lavender incense, more chants and prayers, and even tossed a garlic clove at Blake's head to no avail. At this point Blake had begun to laugh his ass off. "What the hell is she trying to do? An amateur comedy act? This isn't Saturday Night Live!"

Rosalie blushed.

But Carrie didn't give up. The stubborn Goth took out a small piece of paper and wrote something down on it. Rosalie and Blake peered over her shoulder curiously to see that she had written the phrase: 'Begone ghost of Blake White' upon the piece of paper. Carrie then used a needle and carved that same phrase into the wax of a white candle. She then set the candle on top of the piece of paper, lit it, and began to pray with the palms of her hands pressed together.

Rosalie and Blake shared a questioning look. The ghost shrugged when once again nothing happened.

Carrie then lit a bundle of sage and began to wave it around the 7-Eleven store to clear the store of negative energy and spirits. "He's laughing at me, isn't he? That ungrateful ghost. I wanted to help him, but he only wanted _your_ help, Rosalie. That's why I decided to help him cross over a little faster. That's pretty strange that it didn't work..." The Wicca witch frowned, feeling frustrated.

Rosalie patted Carrie's shoulder. "You gave it your best shot. Maybe he's just too evil to be banished?"

"Hey!" Blake objected.

"Yea, you're probably right..." Carrie agreed morosely as she set the burning bundle of sage into an ashtray. "Maybe he's already become a Lesser Demon or something." Carrie mused thoughtfully with a finger to her black lips in a pensive pose.

"Hey! I'm right here!" Blake shouted at the Goth witch.

Rosalie looked at Carrie thinking that the witch seemed to know a lot about ghosts and the supernatural. Rosalie chewed on her lower lip wondering if she should ask Carrie about the strange ghosts that she had seen that cried black tears like her Aunt Freya and what it meant exactly. "Um, Carrie...may I ask you a question?"

Carrie turned to give Rosalie a surprised look and then a wide smile. "Of course, girl, ask away!"

Rosalie let out a breath of relief. "Well, you see...sometimes I see ghosts that are different from other ghosts. Some ghosts cry black tears and the wounds that killed them ooze black blood. These ghosts also appear to be less...human. Sometimes they barely look human at all and are black blobs with glowing eyes. Do you know what this means?"

Carrie frowned thoughtfully for a moment before she took out her Book of Shadows and began to flip through its pages. "I remember having read something in my book about that...give me a second to find it." Carrie flipped through the pages until she landed on one page in particular. "Here it is. The chapter on poltergeists." Carrie began to run her finger over some of the sentences. "It says here that ghosts that have remained too long on the Material Plane will begin to forget who they were and lose their memories. The ghosts will slowly lose themselves in the primary emotion that has kept them tied to the Material Plane - for example they can become pure beings of anger or hatred or revenge. As the ghosts lose their memories and become consumed by their emotions they turn into powerful ghosts that can move objects and actually harm people on the Material Plane. Characteristics include crying black tears, wounds that appear to have black blood and inhuman appearances. These ghosts are definitely dangerous, especially for someone like you Rosalie who can see ghosts."

The medium paled at this new information. Her Aunt Freya was slowly becoming a poltergeist and would soon turn into a monster...one of those black blobs with glowing eyes that Rosalie had seen on the edges of her vision before. "W-Wait, Carrie, so what you're saying is...the longer Blake remains on the Material Plane...he will begin to forget who he was and he will eventually become a poltergeist?"

Carrie nodded, expression suddenly grim. "That is correct. That's also why I wanted Blake to cross over...ghosts don't belong here on our plane. It's an imbalance in the world. It's unnatural. Blake shouldn't be here. He needs to cross over. If he stays here he will eventually become a poltergeist, he won't remember you Rosalie, and he could end up attacking you."

Blake gave Carrie a scandalized look. "I wouldn't do that...I'm stronger than that. I'm Blake White! I won't become some poltergeist before I get my revenge. And I would never hurt you, beggar girl."

Rosalie gave Blake a tortured look. She didn't want to have anything to do with Blake White or his revenge but...the longer he stayed on the Material Plane...he would begin to lose himself. Theoretically, he needed to find out who murdered him and get his revenge so he could cross over as soon as possible. Rosalie shook her head. This wasn't her problem. She had her own problems. And her father's safety and well-being was her number one priority.

Rosalie decided to sweep, mop, and dust the entire 7-Eleven while Blake floated around irritatingly following her every move. In a few hours the 7-Eleven was sparkling. Blake was quite sure that it was probably the cleanest 7-Eleven in all of California maybe, even in the entire United States.

Blake had to admit that Rosalie was good at cleaning - but what was the point? He had seen Rosalie help to spay and neuter twenty cats. And he knew she had gone to Biola University with the intention of being a nurse. But now she was working at a 7-Eleven, wasting her life and potential!

Rosalie went to do inventory in the storage room next. Inside the storage room there were several shelving units with canned goods, a large cooler, various other products sold inside the 7-Eleven in piles or in stacks, and a few vending machines up against the back wall.

Rosalie got out her notebook and began to take inventory while Blake floated besides her.

"Tch. This is pathetic...why do you even work here? It's a total waste of your time and potential..." Blake sneered out of frustration.

Rosalie flinched. She didn't want to tell Blake that because of Dr. Cole she had been unable to get a job as a nurse at any other hospital. Dr. Cole was _her_ problem. She would handle it on her own...she always handled her problems on her own, so why tell anyone about them? Blake wouldn't understand...poor, weak people were always going to be at the mercy of those stronger, richer and more powerful than them. That was just the way the world worked.

"It's not so bad and 7-Eleven has a 401(k) retirement plan. So when I retire I don't have to worry about money." Rosalie began in a listless tone.

Blake gawked at Rosalie. "Retirement plan? You plan to _waste_ your life working in a shitty place like this! What about being a _nurse_? Isn't that what you really want to be doing? You can't really plan on wasting your potential by working here? I saw you with those animals Rosalie...you're good at what you do. You're a nurse at heart. That is your true calling."

"Not everyone in this life gets to do what they really want to do." Rosalie said morosely.

"Bullshit." Blake spat, startling Rosalie. "You're just making _excuses_. If you have something you want to be doing you just have to do it!"

"I can't!" Rosalie burst out. "I just can't. I'm not like you. I'm not strong enough. I'm at the mercy of this world we live in...a pawn...I'm not a 'king' like you. I'm not in control of my life. Other people are in control of me and I can't escape them...!" The image of Dr. Cole's leering face seemed to be looming over her.

"Bullshit." Blake snarled. "So you're just going to give up? Without even trying?! Winners never quit and quitters never win, Rosalie." The ghost raked his hand back through his stylish platinum blonde hair in an irked gesture.

"I have tried...I did but...it's impossible for someone like me..." Rosalie trailed off sadly. _My life is cursed..._

"Nothing is impossible. Aren't you tired of disappointing yourself? You just have to decide what you want to do and do it. JUST DO IT, ROSALIE!" Blake yelled out in frustration.

"I CAN'T!" Rosalie yelled back in a surprisingly loud tone of voice.

"YES, YOU CAN! You're better than this place! You deserve more. I can see your potential. The only thing holding you back and limiting yourself is: YOU! You are your own worst enemy! And you...you're still ALIVE! GAHHH!" Blake roared out and the lights within the storage room began to flicker eerily affected by the ghost's rage, frustration and hurt. He was dead and he'd never get to do what he wanted to do most again, which was: sing!

Rosalie could feel a powerful aura swelling around Blake and then it was exploding outwards - like a telekinetic blast. This force knocked into one of the shelving units in the storage room and tipped it sideways so that it began to fall.

"Rosalie, look out!" Blake yelled.

Rosalie dove out of the way as the shelving unit crashed into the shelving unit besides it. This collision caused that shelving unit to tip sideways as well and knock into the shelving unit besides it next until a domino effect had been created so that all of the shelving units that were inside of the storage room soon fell to the floor with a gigantic crash. One of the shelving units hit the vending machine, which exploded from the impact.

BOOM! "Rosalie!" Came a cry and then Carrie was rushing through the doorway followed close behind by Chuck.

Carrie saw Rosalie on the floor and quickly rushed over to the gloomy girl and began to help her up. "Rosalie, are you alright? What happened here...?" Carrie asked out loud and then she noticed the glowing green goo that was on one of the shelves - ectoplasm. "Poltergeist." She said in a low grim tone.

"What the hell is going on in-" Chuck began as he stepped inside the storage room. Chuck's jaw dropped as he caught sight of the toppled shelves and the still smoking vending machine. He turned to look at the shaken Rosalie who Carrie was helping to stand. "Y-Y-YOU'RE FIRED!" Chuck yelled out, spit flying out of his mouth.

Rosalie paled. _Oh no._

Blake was nodding happily, arms crossed over his chest, and with a pleased look on his face. _Perfect._ "Now you can work at Wraythe Records."

Rosalie shot Blake a glare and began to stomp out of the storage room. That stupid, meddlesome ghost had caused her to lose her job! It had been so hard for her to get a job in the first place too. _Dammit!_ Rosalie was surprised by how angry she was.

"Hey, Rosalie, wait up!" Carrie called after her.

Rosalie was already heading for the sliding doors of the 7-Eleven. The Goth stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. "Rosalie!" Carrie turned Rosalie around to face her. "Are you going to be okay? I know you really needed this job."

Of course I'm not going to be okay! I'm so screwed! But I can't tell Carrie that and cause her to worry. This is my problem. I have to handle it in my own. I know Carrie is having a hard time too. She mentioned to me that she's the one who's really supporting her family at the moment and that she has several siblings that she's responsible for. I can't even think of placing any more of a burden upon her.

Rosalie looked up at Carrie and steeled herself, giving the witch a reassuring look. "Yea, I'll be okay. Don't worry. I'll come by and visit as soon as I can..."

Carrie gave Rosalie a skeptical look and watched the medium leave the 7-Eleven worriedly. She had a feeling that Blake was somewhere besides her watching Rosalie leave too. "You did this, so you better take responsibility for it, buddy. Rosalie's more fragile than she acts, so you had better protect her, rockstar ghost."

"Tch." Blake snorted at the Goth girl. Hands in the pockets of his leather pants, Blake strode out of the 7-Eleven after Rosalie...

***

Rosalie had nowhere else to go and so headed back to her apartment in low spirits. She dragged her feet up the stairs dejectedly and took much longer than usual to reach her floor. Rosalie made her way down the hall and stopped in front of her apartment. She let out a heavy sigh as she put her key in the lock and unlocked the door. She stepped inside of her apartment and made her way into her small living room area, taking a seat on her threadbare couch. Blake was floating after her every step of the way.

"Well, look on the bright side - now you have no reason not to get a job at Wraythe Records. You'll make more money there anyways." Blake assured Rosalie.

Rosalie ignored the ghost as she got out a newspaper, opened it to the classifieds section, and began to look at the jobs available. Tomorrow she would have to go job hunting again. She'd have to break out her 'job hunting' outfit too.

Rosalie was feeling extremely distressed though she was doing a good job at hiding this from Blake. She couldn't have gotten fired from the 7-Eleven at a worse time - her father's hospital bills needed to be paid and so did the rent bill for her apartment...

If she didn't get a job ASAP she'd be in deep shit. She knew she probably had enough to cover the hospital bills but that left her with nothing to pay her rent. And if she didn't pay her rent she'd end up getting evicted from her apartment and she'd be out on the streets!

Rosalie began to circle potential jobs with a red marker as Blake watched her, a frown forming on his handsome face.

She had no intention of caving into Blake's selfish demands, going to Wraythe Records, and trying to get a job there. This was Blake's entire fault. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction that he had won.

Blake was growing angry as well as he observed Rosalie's actions and realized her intentions. Just how stubborn was this girl?! _Gah!_ He'd do his best to sabotage her job interviews tomorrow. She _had_ to work at Wraythe Records no matter what!

Rosalie went to bed and tossed and turned the entire night. She was extremely nervous about having to go on job interviews again the next day. She _hated_ job interviews. Interacting with other human beings was _so_ not her forte.

Blake didn't need to sleep since he was a ghost now and waited until Rosalie had fallen asleep so that he could lie down on the bed next to her. He lay on his side and watched Rosalie sleep. She was a restless sleeper, tossing and turning and even crying out in her sleep. She was incredibly fun to watch. The girl was such a weirdo.

They definitely didn't make girls like Rosalie anymore! Blake thought to himself.

The ghost reached out and tried to touch Rosalie's head, but his hand passed into her body instead. Blake quickly snatched his hand back and frowned at it for several moments.

The next morning, a stream of bright sunlight filtering through the half-drawn curtains of her bedroom window, awakened Rosalie. She turned on her side, to avoid the light on her face, and opened her eyes to see Blake White staring at her with those incredible lavender eyes of his.

"AHHHHH!" She screamed.

Blake put his fingers in his ears. "Must we do this _every_ morning? Geez..."

Rosalie quickly calmed herself down and glared daggers at Blake. "Perverted ghost..." She hopped out of bed and made her way to her closet to take out her job hunting suit. She turned to glare at Blake. "If you try to peek on me while I'm showering I'll give you the silent treatment again, rockstar ghost!"

Blake yawned, and gave Rosalie a bored look with his chin in his hand. "Shouldn't you be calling me 'Master'?"

"Gah!" Rosalie threw her arms up into the air, made her way into the bathroom, and slammed the door behind her. She knew if he really wanted to Blake could just float right through the door! Her cheeks reddened at the thought. Rosalie quickly stripped her pj's off and stepped into the slower. She took a navy shower and was done in a mere five minutes flat. She then quickly dressed in her suit.

Rosalie washed her face, brushed her teeth and tried to tame her mass of curly black hair.

She shrugged, gave up, and tied her hair into a tight ponytail. Lastly, she put her round, cracked glasses onto her face. She nodded at her reflection in the mirror. This was as good as it was going to get for her.

Rosalie stepped out of the bathroom and Blake looked her over: _total nerd_. Rosalie was wearing a white blouse, black jacket, knee-length black skirt, and scuffed up, low-heeled black shoes. She had her glasses on and her hair in a tight ponytail. Though several curled strands had escaped and framed her face.

Blake raised an eyebrow at the gloomy girl. She looked like a poor stewardess. "Where are you going dressed like a poor stewardess?" Blake drawled, a tinge of amusement evident in his voice.

"Job hunting." Rosalie replied flatly.

"Tch. Looking like that? No one is going to hire you..." Blake ran a hand back through his stylish rockstar hair. He might not even need to lift a finger in order to sabotage her job interviews after all. "Why don't you wear the Armani dress? Or one of the other Armani outfits your friend Carrie helped you to buy?" Blake asked, suddenly curious.

Rosalie frowned. "I just don't feel comfortable in those outfits...they're not _me_." The medium tried to explain as she exited her bedroom and made her way into the open kitchen and living room area in order to make herself some coffee and toast for breakfast.

Her five black cats came out and greeted Rosalie enthusiastically. "Meeowww!"

Rosalie's expression softened at the sight and she smiled. "Good morning my darlings." Rosalie took a moment to pet and scratch her cats behind their ears before she started breakfast.

"Five cats too many." Blake groused, eyeing the cats warily. "I hate cats...my nose is feeling itchy just looking at the little buggers..."

"Why?" Rosalie asked absentmindedly as she made her coffee.

"I'm allergic to cats." Blake informed her.

"Hmmm, but it's not like you're allergic to them _now_ , right?"

"That remains to be seen..." Blake glared at a cat suspiciously that glared right back with his gold eyes, and flattened his ears against his head. Blake raised an eyebrow at the cat and waved his hand back and forth in front of Lucky's face.

Lucky followed Blake's hand - turning his head from side to side. Rosalie noticed this out of the corner of her eye. "Lucky? Can you see Blake!" Rosalie went over to pick Lucky up and carried him over so that she was standing in front of Blake. Rosalie held Lucky up in front of Blake's face.

"Stupid cat," Blake groused.

Lucky swiped at Blake with his paw, claws out, and Blake jumped back in shock. The cat really _could_ see him!

"That's amazing Lucky!" Rosalie praised, petting Lucky. "You are such a good cat. You're so smart and brave trying to get rid of that big bad ghost for me..."

"Hey!" Blake objected.

Rosalie laughed and put Lucky down. She finished making her simple, meager breakfast and got ready to leave. She put on her ratty jacket and her shabby shoulder bag before leaving the apartment. Rosalie tried to sneakily make her way past one door in particular while trying to make as little noise as possible. However the floorboards creaked loudly under Rosalie's high heels and she flinched.

CREAK. The door to one of the apartments was flung open and an enormous woman holding a wooden spoon that was covered in some kind of batter stepped out into the hallway. "Rosalie! Where do you think you're going? You owe me this month's rent!"

The overweight woman was Rosalie's landlady, Diti Blackwell, and the woman she paid her rent to every month. Diti was forty-years-old and over three hundred pounds. She always wore bright floral print dresses and extravagant hats with curled feathers that went out of style decades ago.

Rosalie did the only thing she could do - RUN! Rosalie took off running down the hall reaching the door that led to the stairs. A spoon covered in cake batter hit the doorframe as the gloomy girl opened the door and made it to the staircase. It splattered some batter onto her jacket but Rosalie didn't look back as she ran down the stairs taking them two at a time.

"ROSALIE! YOU SKINNY LITTLE BITCH! GET YOUR BONEY ASS BACK HERE! IF YOU DON'T PAY THE RENT BY TOMORROW I'LL EVICT YOU! YOU HEAR MEEE?" The landlady's voice shrieked after Rosalie at decibels that could shatter a wine glass.

Blake had never seen anything so funny! He was laughing his ass off at Rosalie's plight as he floated after Rosalie as she made her way hurriedly down the stairs.

"It's not funny!" Rosalie panted by the time she reached the bottom of the staircase. "Is my life a joke to you?" The medium stalked out of the apartment building and made her way to the bus stop.

Blake had stopped laughing. "No...I'm trying to help you. Your life would be better if you worked for Wraythe Records."

"I don't want to work at Wraythe Records. Stop trying to help me...you're only making things worse!" Rosalie shot back before getting onto the bus that had just pulled up to the stop.

Over the next few hours, Rosalie went to various job interviews with Blake floating along behind her. He remained silent as he watched her during the interviews. Blake ran a hand down his face out of frustration. _This is just sad._ During the job interviews Rosalie would freeze up out of nervousness and when asked a question she just didn't know how to respond due to an obvious lack of 'people skills'.

At first, Blake was laughing his ass off at Rosalie because she was just too pathetic. But then he began to feel sorry for Rosalie and get nervous that she really wouldn't find a new job. What would happen to her then? She wouldn't really get kicked out of her apartment, right? People couldn't really do that, right? Throwing people out of their homes had to be illegal.

Rosalie tried to ignore Blake's presence as she went on the various job interviews. She didn't know why she got so nervous during job interviews but she just did. She'd freeze up and her tongue would get all tongue-tied. Her social anxiety was really getting the better of her this time. She could hear Blake laughing at her during the first few interviews and blushed. She really was pathetic.

After a few more interviews though Blake had stopped laughing. Rosalie turned to look at him questioningly and saw him frowning accusingly at her. Like this was all _her_ fault...

"What the hell were you doing back there? If you continue to act like this you won't get a new job!" Blake chided as she left a coffee shop where she had been trying to get hired as a part-time worker.

"I thought you didn't want me to get a new job?" Rosalie shot back.

Blake scratched his head out of frustration. "Gah! Why are you so...stubborn! Why don't you just speak _normally_ to those people?"

"I...just can't!" Rosalie hung her head in despair. It was just so difficult talking to people...

Blake let out a frustrated little huff. "You're speaking with me normally right now, so I don't see how speaking with them would be any different!"

"I-!" Rosalie paused and sucked in a breath. Blake was right. She was able to speak with him easily and carry on a conversation as if it were normal. Why was that? Why could she talk so effortlessly and just be herself around Blake? It was a mystery. "I dunno..."

Poor Rosalie failed all of her job interviews that day and had no choice but to return home, dejected and empty handed. She fed her cats and made herself an instant ramen noodle soup for dinner before falling into her bed completely exhausted and feeling spent.

"A ramen soup? That's all you're eating?" Blake asked.

She offered no response.

Rosalie woke up the next morning to see Blake's face but she didn't even have the energy to scream. She just listlessly got out of bed like a zombie and headed to the bathroom.

Blake noticed Rosalie's flushed cheeks and was worried about her. Was she sick? Did she have a fever? He couldn't even touch her forehead to check... _dammit_ ...

Rosalie showered, washed her face, brushed her teeth and put her job hunting outfit on again. This was it. If she didn't manage to get a job today she wouldn't have the money to pay the rent for the apartment.

She'd lose her home.

More importantly, her cats would lose their home...

Rosalie made coffee, toast, and fed her cats. Then she was out the door and sneaking past Mrs. Blackwell's apartment. She tiptoed past the apartment with Blake floating behind her. She let out a breath of relief once she had made it safely past. "Phew." Rosalie then made her way to the door that led to the stairs.

Rosalie opened the door and stepped inside, only to be confronted by Mrs. Blackwell's husband - Fred Blackwell. Yes, it was a mystery but Mrs. Blackwell was indeed married. Her husband was a scrawny, pale, 40-year old man with a balding head of hair. He looked a little like a scarecrow.

"Hello Rosalie." Mr. Blackwell greeted her with a wide smile showing off his crooked, yellow teeth.

"Epp!" Rosalie let out a squeak of surprise. "Mr. Blackwell!"

Mr. Blackwell licked his chapped lips. "Were you trying to sneak past our apartment again? The rent is due today, you know." Mr. Blackwell's glassy eyes looked Rosalie over from head to toe.

Rosalie sighed. "Please, just give me one more day. I'm going to try and get a job today. I know that today I will succeed. I'll do my best." Rosalie pleaded, giving Mr. Blackwell a beseeching look.

"We both know that won't happen, Rosalie. It's too late. But...perhaps we can make some kind of deal." Mr. Blackwell offered as he began to rub his hands together.

"Deal?" Rosalie sounded hopeful.

Blake crossed his arms over his chest and glared daggers at Mr. Blackwell. He didn't trust this sleazeball one bit. He definitely didn't like the way this old man was looking at Rosalie either. Just what was he up to...?

"Mmhmm." Mr. Blackwell stepped closer to Rosalie so that he was only about a foot away from her. "If you can't pay me normally...I'll let you pay with your body." Mr. Blackwell breathed and his foul breath washed over Rosalie's face causing her to back up against the wall. Mr. Blackwell stepped even closer, cornering her.

Rosalie's eyes went wide like saucers. "What...but Mr. Blackwell, you're _married_." The gloomy girl made a helpless gesture with her hands as if she couldn't understand what was going on. "How could you...?!"

Mr. Blackwell let out a cackling laugh. "To that cow?! I haven't slept with her for the last 20 years! But you..." Mr. Blackwell looked Rosalie over, his eyes lingering on her breasts. "Are young and fresh, aren't you? So skinny...I like skinny girls..." Mr. Blackwell put his hands on Rosalie's slim waist and began to trail his clammy hands up towards Rosalie's breasts. "What do you say? Do we have a deal, my pretty?"

Rosalie was trembling. "No...don't touch me...please..."

"Fucking pervert! Let her go! Fuck! Rosalie, slap him! Hit him! Come on - REACT!" Blake shouted at her.

Mr. Blackwell grabbed one of Rosalie's breasts and began to fondle and squeeze it. "You have such nice breasts. This is going to be _so_ good..." He purred in a slimy voice.

Tears began to fill Rosalie's ice-blue eyes.

"Oh, come on! Fuck this shit!" Blake dove into Rosalie's body and quickly took control of her.

When 'Rosalie' opened her eyes they were now a pale lavender color. Blake took Rosalie's glasses off and stuck them in her jacket pocket. The singer then took Rosalie's hair out of her scrunchie so that it hung in wild curls around her shoulders.

Blake glared at Mr. Blackwell, and reached out to grab Mr. Blackwell's wrist. He then began to bend Mr. Blackwell's wrist backwards. "Fucking pervert. What the hell do you think you're doing to your tenant? I should call the cops on you...fucking rapist pig." Blake snarled as he continued to bend Mr. Blackwell's wrist back and away from Rosalie's breast.

"Ahhh...Rosalie? Wait, please stop...it hurts." Mr. Blackwell moaned pathetically, his voice cracking.

"Did you stop when _I_ asked you to? When _I_ begged? I don't think so. So why should I give you the same courtesy?" Blake continued to bend Mr. Blackwell's wrist back until-

CRACK. Mr. Blackwell howled in pain, as his wrist was broken. "AHHH!"

Blake didn't stop there as he let go of Mr. Blackwell's wrist and kneed the landlord in the groin.

POW. Mr. Blackwell clutched his crotch with his two hands and groaned in pain.

"I should push this asshole down the stairs..." Blake mused, however - he was suddenly forced out of Rosalie's body.

Rosalie - who had seen everything that was happening like a bystander - quickly went to kneel at Mr. Blackwell's side. She reached her hand out to him, a concerned look on her face. "Mr. Blackwell, are you okay?"

Mr. Blackwell's eyes widened in fear and he smacked Rosalie's hand away. "Don't touch me, you crazy bitch. Shit..." Mr. Blackwell stumbled out the door and fled down the hall back to his apartment.

Rosalie frowned as she watched him go. This wasn't good but...she had no choice but to go on the job interviews she had scheduled for that day, and try to get a job. And she was going to be late if she tried to explain herself to Mrs. Blackwell.

Blake had his arms crossed over his sculpted chest and was giving Rosalie an expectant look. "Your welcome."

Rosalie just glared at Blake. "I already told you - your 'help' isn't helping...stupid ghost..." Rosalie spun around to go down the stairs and her head spun. She felt woozy all of a sudden, and put a hand to her burning forehead as she tried to stay conscious.

"Rosalie!" Blake called out in concern, seeing that Rosalie was about to faint and she was dangerously close to the edge of the stairs. If she fell - she'd die.

Blake reached out and his hand oddly passed right through her. _What the? Why can't I possess her? Shit._ "ROSALIE! Snap out of it! The stairs!"

Rosalie shook her head and took a deep breath. She blinked as she tried to steady her vision. The gloomy girl grabbed the handrail and began to stubbornly make her way down the stairs. "Shut up...stupid ghost...just leave me alone..."

"Like hell I will!" Blake grumbled as he floated after Rosalie.

Rosalie miraculously made it to the bus stop, took the bus, and began to go on more job interviews. She wouldn't give up! She HAD to get a job or else her cats would be out on the street! They were her responsibility. They were the only good thing in her life.

Rosalie made an effort to be more personable during the interviews, but she could tell that they were looking for someone more outgoing than she was - louder - than the soft-spoken Rosalie. She frowned at the thought.

Blake stayed by Rosalie's side the entire day and gave her his silent support. "Just picture these stuck-up bastards in their underwear. That might help." Blake suggested jokingly.

But Rosalie was in no mood for jokes and barely heard Blake. The medium finally finished her final interview, which sadly hadn't gone very well since Rosalie wasn't feeling so good at that point. She began her trek towards the bus stop, dragging her feet. It had been a lonngggg day. Rosalie took the bus 'home'. She walked the couple of blocks left to her apartment building, entered, and went up the stairs warily keeping an eye out for her perverted landlord. Rosalie exited the staircase on her floor and began to make her way down the hallway with Blake floating besides her.

Rosalie stopped abruptly when she saw that all of her belongings had been thrown out of her apartment and were currently scattered about the hallway in front of her apartment door - her clothes, underwear, books, toiletries from her bathroom were there for all to see.

Rosalie gasped and raised a hand in front of her mouth. Her immediate concern was for her cats. She noticed her only luggage was out in the hall and so was her large pet carrier. "Lucky! Percy! Spottie! Luna! Dulce!" Rosalie cried as she rushed over to the pet carrier and peered inside.

"Phew." Rosalie let out a breath of relief. Her five black cats were inside of the pet carrier, huddled together. "My poor babies...I'm glad you're alright." Rosalie stood up and looked at her apartment door - there was an Eviction Notice taped to the door. Rosalie got out her key and tried the lock. The door wouldn't open. Mr. Blackwell had probably had the lock changed while she was gone.

The medium sighed heavily, and her shoulders slumped. This was Blake White's fault...if she could have just reasoned with Mr. Blackwell instead of resorting to violence...maybe she'd still have a home! Rosalie opened her luggage and began to toss her belongings inside. She paused as she picked up a picture frame. The glass was broken but the picture was still intact:

It was a photo of Rosalie and her mother and father - back when they were still together. Back when they were still one big happy family. They all wore smiles on their faces and looked happy.

Broken glass...broken family...broken life...

Tears filled Rosalie's eyes and silently began to fall on the broken picture frame. She had never felt so utterly... _alone_.

Blake was taken aback, upon seeing Rosalie's belongings thrown around the hallway like trash. The sight of her five cats inside of a small pet carrier and the broken picture frame of her family stirred something within Blake. A feeling that he had never felt before. At first Blake thought it was just anger but it was something else. Blake understood that this entire situation was his fault. He had destroyed this young girl's life because of his selfishness. Blake didn't know it but he was feeling guilty.

Blake floated over to Rosalie and reached out a transparent hand towards her shoulder. He opened his mouth to do something Blake White had never done - apologize. "Look, Rosalie, I'm sorry, I-"

But Rosalie cut him off as she spun around to glare at Blake heatedly. "No, you're not. This is exactly what you wanted isn't it, Blake? You wanted to destroy my life! Well, you succeeded! I hate you...just leave me alone..." Rosalie said as she put the picture frame into the luggage and snapped the luggage closed.

Rosalie picked up the pet carrier in her left hand and with her right she wheeled her luggage down the hall. She didn't look back as she left the apartment that had been her home for sixteen years behind her.

With absolutely no place to go and no one to turn to for help, Rosalie could only think of one place to go. Rosalie left the apartment building, pissed off at Blake, and made her way down the street with purposeful steps.

"Hey! Rosalie! Wait up! Where are you going? Do you have a friend you're going to stay with?" Blake asked her as he floated along behind her.

Rosalie did not respond and continued stomping her way down the street. She walked for about an hour until she finally reached an isolated area beneath an overpass bridge. Rosalie had seen people camping out beneath this bridge before and figured if they could do it, why couldn't she? Besides, the overpass bridge would keep the rain off of her incase the weather turned sour.

Rosalie rolled her luggage under the overpass bridge and set her pet carrier down on the ground. The medium opened her luggage and got out a bag of _Purina Cat Chow_ before sitting down to make herself comfortable. She then began to pass kibbles to her cats inside the kennel through the grated door.

Blake looked around the area curiously; being beneath the overpass bridge would ensure that they would be sheltered from the rain in case the weather turned bad. But Rosalie was probably just resting and had some other destination in mind, right? She couldn't actually be considering living under this bridge, right?!

Blake sat down next to Rosalie, Indian style. "Hey...it's getting late. Where are you planning to go? Shouldn't you keep going before it gets too late? It's dangerous."

Rosalie sighed, wrapped her arms around her legs, and rested her chin on her knees as she looked at her cats. "We're not going anywhere...this is home now..."

Blake's eye widened. "You have got to be kidding me! Don't you have someone you can stay with? A relative? A friend? What about Carrie?"

"Carrie's house is already crammed tight with her large family. She has two younger sisters and two younger brothers. Carrie's Catholic alcoholic mother and deadbeat, gambling, father abandoned them, leaving Carrie with their debts, so she's working two jobs to support the family already. I couldn't possibly ask her for help..." Rosalie explained cryptically.

"I see..." Blake had no idea the Goth witch had it so tough. She was always smiling. He felt like shit. This was all his fault.

Rosalie took out the cell phone Blake had given her and turned it on so that she could see what time it was. It read: 9:05 PM. It was going to be a long night...

Rosalie sighed heavily. The medium was homeless because of that damned rockstar ghost!

Blake realized he had to do something. Had to help. It wasn't safe for a girl like Rosalie to be out here on the streets...

But what could he do? Blake was a loss. He was _dead_. He couldn't use his credit cards or go to the bank and make a withdrawal. His Visa Black Card was just a useless piece of plastic (or wasn't it made out of carbon?) _Whatever._ Blake shook his head, not really giving a shit if his Visa Black Card was lighter than most regular credit cards or not at the moment.

The only option Blake could think of was getting Rosalie to go to Wraythe Records. He'd get her hired by the company somehow. Mr. Wraythe was a good man. He would hire Rosalie and help her. Blake was sure of this.

The hours continued to crawl by as Blake and Rosalie sat side by side under the bridge. The ghost could feel the awkward tension between them and it felt suffocating. It wasn't long before Blake just had to break the silence. "Rosalie...I-" Blake began to speak. However-

Blake got this tingling sensation on the back of his neck making the hair there stand on end. His fighter's instincts told him that there was danger! _Shit!_ "Look out, Rosalie!" Blake lunged at Rosalie and went right into her body. He managed to push Rosalie's body to the ground just in time as a shot rang out.

_Bang!_ That had been a gunshot or maybe even a rifle shot!

"Shit!" Blake quickly stood up and ran...

More shots were fired and bullets imbedded themselves into the cement of the overpass bridge where Rosalie had been seated only moments before! Blake ran out from under the bridge and down the street, but when more shots were fired he threw himself down on the side of the road.

"Fuck this shit! Someone's trying to kill Rosalie! Fucking bastard! Arghhh!" Blake stood up, took Rosalie's glasses off, folded them, and put them into her jeans pocket. He took Rosalie's hair out of her ponytail and began to run in the direction that he estimated the shots had come from.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Blake used his well-honed fighter's instincts to be able to dodge the bullets and pinpoint where the sniper was by using the bullets' trajectories as a guide. Blake ran up a grassy slope that was on the side of the road, and once he had reached the top he spotted the sniper.

The sniper was dressed in dark green, dark brown and tan camouflage from head to toe. He had a full facemask and a pair of night vision goggles on his head. He was lying on the ground with a sniper rifle's scope to his eye. The sniper saw Blake charging him in disbelief and leapt to his feet. He smoothly pulled out a gun, which he aimed at Blake.

But Blake was faster. He hit the man's left wrist with his left fist and sent a punch flying into the man's face with his right.

POW! The assassin pulled out another handgun with his right hand next. Blake executed a roundhouse kick and sent the gun flying from the assassin's hand. The assassin was now bringing up his left hand and gun to point it at Blake again.

Blake got into a fighting stance, prepared to meet his attacker head on. However, Blake's vision suddenly began to swirl. He felt dizzy and felt himself falling backwards to the grassy ground. _Shit!_

And Blake fell right out of Rosalie's body, rolling across the grassy ground.

Rosalie landed on her butt, blinked, and stared up at the assassin who was now pointing a gun at her forehead. Rosalie's eyes went wide. _Blake!_

"Where's the phone?" The assassin asked in a gravelly voice.

"What...I don't know what you're talking about..." Rosalie murmured.

"Blake White's phone. Where is it? Don't play dumb with me girl. I know you have it." The assassin began to pull down on the trigger.

_Eppp! Blake's phone?_ Rosalie realized that she did indeed have it. It was inside of her luggage. The evidence that Blake White's suicide was actually a murder! _I'm going to die!_ Rosalie thought.

_No! Rosalie!_ Blake thought, panicking. However-

A whirring sound filled the air as a weighted chain shot through the air and knocked the gun out of the assassin's hand with a clang.

The assassin reacted quickly, grabbed the chain, and held it.

Rosalie and Blake both turned to see who was on the other side of that chain. It was the familiar sight of a man dressed in a black _ninja_ outfit with a full facemask that revealed just his fierce, dark eyes. A sword was strapped to his back, a dagger was strapped to his belt, and various other weapons appeared to be strapped to his body with leather straps such as _sai_ and _shuriken_. The weapon he held in his two hands was a _kusari gama_ \- a chain-sickle.

"Yoshida- _sensei_." Blake breathed.

The assassin and Yoshida struggled against each other's hold and then Yoshida flicked the chain outwards towards the assassin in such a way that he 'tied' the assassin's wrist and effectively captured him.

Yoshida pulled on the chain and the assassin had no choice but to move forward towards Yoshida. In seconds the martial arts instructor was holding the sickle to the assassin's throat. "Who sent you?" Yoshida demanded in a low, threatening voice with a thick Japanese accent.

"I would die before I ever gave him up." The assassin snarled and reached into his jacket. He tossed a smoke grenade after removing the pin, and Yoshida was forced to leap backwards relinquishing his advantage over the assassin as a cloud of smoke appeared in front of him. "This isn't over. I _will_ be back."

" _Kisama!_ Bastard!" Yoshida rushed through the cloud of smoke and slashed his sickle-like weapon through the air but hit nothing. A few moments later the smoke cleared to reveal that the assassin had escaped. Yoshida lowered his weapon and then turned to face Rosalie.

Rosalie was trembling like a leaf. First, a man dressed in a camouflage outfit had tried to kill her and now a _ninja_ had popped up out of nowhere. Yoshida stalked towards Rosalie and her life flashed before her eyes. She couldn't take any more of this and so she fainted.

"Ah! Rosalie. Geez, look what you did, _sensei_." Blake reprimanded, even though Yoshida couldn't hear or see him.

"Oh dear..." Yoshida acted chagrined as he scratched the back of his head and looked down at the unconscious Rosalie. He noticed her flushed cheeks and irregular breathing before kneeling down besides her. He took his glove off and touched Rosalie's forehead with his hand. She was burning up. Yoshida shook his head.

The martial artist bent low and picked Rosalie up into his arms. He began to carry her over to her belongings. He laid her down under the overpass bridge and went to get his BMW. A few minutes later Yoshida was pulling his black BMW right in front of Rosalie, her belongings, and her cats. Yoshida put Rosalie into his car first before putting the pet carrier into the backseat next to Rosalie.

Blake had taken a seat next to Rosalie and had to move even closer to her as Yoshida put the pet carrier inside of the car. "Geez, _sensei_ , a little room..."

Yoshida put Rosalie's luggage into the trunk and then spotted the cell phone on the ground. He went over to pick the phone up and quickly brought up the message inbox. His eyes widened as he read the text messages that Rosalie and Blake had exchanged mere minutes before his reported time of death.

Yoshida put the cell phone into his pocket before moving to the driver's side door and getting inside. He began to drive away, leaving the overhang bridge behind them.

"So now you go around kidnapping little girls, _sensei_? Tch..." Blake groused. "Where are you taking her, anyways?"

There was of course no response.

Blake crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. It really sucked when people couldn't see or hear you!

Yoshida decided to take Rosalie to his _dojo_ \- a martial arts training hall - where he taught martial arts. He taught mixed martial arts such as: _karate_ , _jujutsu_ , _aikido_ , and _muay thai_. Many years ago, when Yoshida had been living in Japan he had been known as 'Yoshida the Weapons Master' and had been an assassin of great repute, but...his sword had grown heavy. Heavy with the blood of all those he had killed. He wanted to escape from that bloody lifestyle and had retired, deciding to teach martial arts instead. He had put his _ninja_ assassin outfit away...until tonight.

Yoshida took Rosalie, her black cats, and her belongings into the _dojo_ hall. It was a large open space with shining wood floors. This was where Yoshida's students would practice their martial arts routines, _kata,_ and spar against each other.

Yoshida set up a futon for Rosalie on the _dojo_ floor to sleep upon and set the girl gently down upon the mattress. He put her luggage and pet crate near her. The martial arts instructor then left the _dojo_ and exited through a door that led to his living quarters. He returned a few minutes later with a pail of ice water and a towel. He placed a cool, wet towel on Rosalie's forehead to attempt to lower her fever.

When Yoshida heard Rosalie's stomach rumble he left the _dojo_ again, this time to prepare the girl some food. He decided he would prepare a simple beef stir-fry with vegetables and steamed rice to bring up the girl's strength.

Thirty minutes later, the smell of good food caused Rosalie to stir. She slowly awoke and sat up on the futon groggily. She turned her head to her right and her eyes widened at the sight before her:

Yoshida had set up a low table for Rosalie and was currently scooping a helping of rice into a small bowl. A plate of steaming stir-fry was already sitting on the table. Next to the plate were two chopsticks.

Yoshida turned to regard Rosalie. "Ah, you're awake, young lady. Please help yourself." The weapons master waved a hand at the food.

Rosalie frowned and hesitated - but then her stomach let out a loud rumble causing her to blush. "O-Okay." Rosalie reluctantly agreed and moved towards the table. She looked at the chopsticks and picked them up, not sure how to use them.

"Ah, have you never used chopsticks before, _oujo-chan_? Allow me to show you..." Yoshida reached out and helped Rosalie to hold the chopsticks properly. His hands were gentle.

"T-T-Thank you." Rosalie managed to get out. This man wasn't nearly as scary as she originally thought. Now that he had his facemask off Rosalie was able to get a better look of him as well. He had sharp black eyes, tan skin, a scar that went down vertically over his left eye and a scar that went over his nose horizontally. His hair was cut short and was mostly black expect for a little gray here and there. There were age lines around the man's eyes making Rosalie think that he was probably somewhere around her father's age. Rosalie concentrated on picking up a piece of beef and stuck it into her mouth. The taste of succulent, marinated beef hit her taste buds delightfully. Rosalie smiled. "Delicious."

Yoshida nodded. "Good. Eat everything on your plate. You're anemic or perhaps just malnourished. Afterwards, we'll talk."

"O-Okay." Rosalie ate quietly while Yoshida sat nearby and patiently waited for Rosalie to finish her meal.

During her meal, Rosalie watched Yoshida curiously since he had taken a seat on the floor and gotten into a meditative pose with his eyes closed. After she finished eating she cleared her throat and Yoshida opened his eyes.

Yoshida moved closer to the table and served Rosalie some green tea. "Now, _oujo-chan_ , we talk. I would like to know what your relationship to Blake White was."

Rosalie had been taking a small tip of the Jasmine green tea and ended up spitting it out at the question. "What? Relationship?" Rosalie sputtered. "I don't know what you mean..."

Yoshida took out Blake's smart phone and waved it at Rosalie. He turned the phone on and began to read the text messages that Rosalie and Blake had exchanged.

Rosalie blushed. They sounded so...suggestive! With Blake calling her his 'slave' and she calling him 'master'! Rosalie gripped her head in her hands in horror. _Ah, how embarrassing! I just want to crawl into a hole and die._ But Rosalie needed to explain things clearly. "It's...not what you think. Blake saved me from some men and said that because of that I owed him one. That's why I was going to be his slave, and not _that kind_ of slave either. Blake was a gentleman. He wanted me to become his 'Girl Friday' or something like that. I was going to run errands, cook and clean for him. That's what those text messages were about."

"When exactly did Blake save you?" Yoshida asked.

"Blake saved me on October 11, sometime after midnight." Rosalie answered.

"Just a couple hours before Blake was murdered then." Yoshida nodded in thought. "Blake's time of death was October 11 at 1:30 AM. And the last text message you received from Blake was at 1:15 AM. You were the last person to communicate with Blake White before his death. This text message contains his last words upon the Earth. Did he seem like he wanted to kill himself?" Yoshida asked, looking at Rosalie intently.

Rosalie shook her head.

"That's because Blake White was _murdered_ that Friday morning by someone. That very same someone knows about you and this cell phone. They probably tracked you down using the phone's GPS." Yoshida gripped the cell phone in his one hand and suddenly crushed it to pieces.

"Ah!" Rosalie objected as she watched the pieces of cell phone fall to the _dojo_ floor. That cell phone had contained Blake's last words to her. That phone was her last real connection to Blake. Rosalie shook her head. It had contained evidence.

"It's too risky to keep this phone in your possession, _oujo-chan_. The person who killed Blake White knows that you know it was no suicide. They hired a professional assassin to kill you and to get ride of all the evidence. They will try to find you again. Your life is in danger...but if you stay here with me I can protect you." Yoshida declared. "My name is Ren Yoshida and I was Blake White's martial arts teacher. You can trust me." The weapons master puffed up his chest.

"Tch. Show off." Blake complained.

"How did you find me, Mr. Yoshida?" Rosalie asked Yoshida curiously.

"Ever since the funeral, I've been keeping an eye on you." Yoshida admitted.

Rosalie blinked. "I see."

"Stalker..." Blake coughed.

Yoshida patted Rosalie on the head. "Go to sleep and rest well, _oujo-chan_. You are safe now." Yoshida declared as he stood up.

"Yes, thank you, Yoshida- _sensei_." Rosalie replied absentmindedly, having gotten used to Blake calling Yoshida ' _sensei_ '.

Yoshida had been heading towards the door that led to his quarters but turned around to regard Rosalie for a moment. How had this young woman known the Japanese word for 'teacher' without him having ever said anything? Yoshida shrugged and continued his way out of the training hall heading to his room.

Rosalie looked around the _dojo_ curiously after she had been left alone. "What a strange place..."

"It's a ' _dojo_ '. A martial arts training hall. This is where Yoshida- _sensei_ gives martial arts classes." Blake explained, being oddly helpful.

Rosalie noticed some framed photographs hanging on the far wall and stood up. She walked over to look at the photographs and saw Yoshida- _sensei_ without his black _ninja_ outfit, but instead wearing a white _haori_ (wrap shirt), black _hakama_ (split pants), and sandals. In the photo he was surrounded by a group of smiling students - both young and old.

Yoshida- _sensei_ seemed really...happy in the photograph with his younger students. Rosalie noticed the gray in his hair...he was probably the same age as her father...

If Rosalie stayed here it would only be putting Yoshida- _sensei_ in danger. The person who killed Blake wanted her dead to 'cover his tracks' and to get rid of all the evidence that Blake's murder was not a suicide.

If Rosalie stayed there Yoshida- _sensei_ would end up fighting the assassin again - risking his life for her sake. She couldn't allow that.

Rosalie made her way over to her luggage and pet carrier. She picked up the pet carrier with her left hand, and pulled the handle on her luggage open with her right hand, so that she could wheel her luggage.

Blake's eyes widened in surprise. "Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going?! Yoshida- _sensei_ said you could stay here. You'll be safe here."

Rosalie did not respond as she left the _dojo_ as silently as possible. Once she was walking down the sidewalk, alone, she responded to Blake. "I can't stay there...Yoshida- _sensei_ will be put in danger because of me..."

Blake gave Rosalie a look of disbelief. "Tch. Are you an idiot? Yoshida- _sensei_ was probably using you as bait to find my killer. Yoshida- _sensei_ can take care of himself. Where do you plan on going?! HA?"

"I don't know...the subway perhaps." Rosalie shrugged and replied in a droning tone.

Blake slapped a hand to his forehead and sighed. "Stupid, stubborn, beggar girl...not accepting anyone's help. I'm sick of wandering around the streets. I miss my penthouse suite..." Blake suddenly stopped pouting and stroked his chin in thought. "My penthouse suite. I wonder...Rosalie, I have an idea." Blake declared with a gleam in his eyes.

Rosalie turned to face the floating ghost curiously. "What is it?"

"I don't know if it's been sealed off or if it's been rented out to someone else already but...it's worth a shot. I know the pass code and if that hasn't been changed...argh..." Blake ruffled his hair. "We don't have any other option but to try this! Listen up. I rent one of the two available one-bedroom penthouse suites at the Chateau Marmont Hotel. Let's go there and see if you can get into my penthouse. If so, you can stay there." Blake declared.

"The Chateau Marmont Hotel?" Rosalie echoed.

Rosalie had certainly heard of the Chateau Marmont Hotel but had never been there. A beggar girl like her couldn't be more 'out of place' in a place like that. But she didn't really have much of a choice. She had to find a place to stay so that she could take her cats out of the pet carrier. Rosalie found herself nodding in agreement. "Alright, Mr. Rockstar Ghost, lead the way."

A cocksure smile formed on Blake's handsome face. "Now we're talking."

Blake and Rosalie ended up having to take the bus to 8221 Sunset Boulevard, West Hollywood. Rosalie followed Blake up the street and Chateau Marmont came into view. To her it looked just like a fairytale castle with its white exterior, gray-blue roofs, and gothic architecture. With a haughty tone, Blake informed her that the place had been loosely modeled after the _Chateau d'Amboise_ , a royal retreat in France.

"Lindsey Lohan was recently staying here." Blake boasted. "I heard she owes the place some money but it's chump change. She's an incredible actress. Anthony Kiedis singer of the band the _Red Hot Chili Peppers_ recorded the vocals for his song ' _By the Way_ ' here. And British singer Lilly Allen wrote one of the songs for her second album here. But more importantly rockstar Blake White has come up with lyrics for some of the songs Devon has composed here."

Rosalie's steps became stiff and robotic-like as she approached the entrance to the hotel. "What do I do?" Rosalie asked, nervously.

"Don't worry, beggar girl. Just do exactly what I tell you. Now, to be a part of the world of celebrities the most important thing is: attitude. I want you to enter that hotel like you own the place. Keep your back straight and your chin up, now go!" Blake motioned dramatically with his hand towards the front door.

Rosalie nodded and took a deep breath before rolling her luggage behind her and towards the entrance door. A doorman was there to open the door for her and Rosalie didn't even make eye contact as she strode confidently inside of the hotel. There was a reception desk but Rosalie ignored this as well and headed directly towards the elevator that Blake was floating towards. Rosalie pressed the elevator summoning button and the elevator arrived in a minute. She stepped inside and wheeled her luggage in after her. She pressed the button for the 7th floor. The elevator doors closed and Rosalie let out a breath of relief.

She put a hand to her chest. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. She turned to give Blake a grateful look. "I can't believe I just did that."

Blake was nodding to himself. "You did good, beggar girl. Just keep up with that snooty attitude here and you'll be fine."

The door opened upon the seventh floor and Rosalie stepped out and chewed on her lower lip, unsure of where to go next.

"Don't worry, beggar girl, my penthouse is the first door on your right. Room 701." Blake said. "Most of the other rooms use keys but I had a digital door lock put in. The pass code is: O708. My birthday." Blake informed her and crossed his fingers behind his back. If someone else was renting the penthouse suite then the pass code would be different.

Rosalie walked towards the door and stopped in front of it. Sure enough there was a digital door lock next to the door. She punched in the code and held her breath. The door unlocked and Rosalie was able to push it open. Rosalie let out a breath of relief.

She walked inside, rolling her luggage behind her, and carrying her pet carrier. Blake floated in after her as she shut the door. The door automatically locked behind them. Rosalie flipped on a light switch and Blake's apartment was illuminated in all its luxurious glory.

The penthouse suite was spacious and had an open living room and kitchen to make the main room seem even more spacious. The balcony could be seen from the living room. The penthouse had come with appliances from the 50s but Blake had updated a few of them with higher end ones.

The décor was very modern with a black, white and silver color theme. Blake had purchased some expensive leather couches to glam up the living room and had situated them around a low, glass table that was in front of a huge, flat screen TV and home entertainment center. Also in the entertainment center was a high-tech CD player with large speakers. There were shelving units filled with hundreds of CDs, and old records that were part of an expensive and valuable collection. In the dinning room area there was a long, rectangular-shaped table that could seat six people. Above the dinning table hung a modern, bronze chandelier that looked like twisting vines with leaves.

The open kitchen had the latest high-tech, chrome appliances, marble counters, the best fridge currently available, a nice four burner stove, automatic dishwasher, pale blue cabinets, and a kitchen island. There was a mini bar with an impressive collection of expensive booze in the living room. Off to the right side of the living room was a drum set, an electric guitar, a bass guitar and a diamond-encrusted microphone stuck into a microphone stand.

Blake had an impressive collection of rock posters hanging on his walls: a _Rolling Stones_ poster with a pair of dice on it, an _The Offspring_ poster that was black, red and yellow and had their logo of a skull with flames on top of its head, a _Green Day_ poster with psychedelic colors and the guitarist on it, a _Sex Pistols_ poster that was black and white and that had a picture of the Queen of England on it and the words: God Save the Queen - Sex Pistols, a _Led Zeppelin_ poster with an avocado with eyes on it, a _Tom Petty_ poster that read: 'Wanted Tom Petty: Heartbreakers', a _Pink Floyd_ poster with a flying pig on it, a _Red Hot Chili Peppers_ poster with a grinning green demon eating a chili pepper, and an old _Beatles_ poster.

Blake had fun, interesting, rock-themed knickknacks and memorabilia such as coffee mugs, pillows, and coasters that featured the following famous rockstars: Freddie Mercury from the band: _Queen_ , Mick Jagger from _The_ _Rolling Stones_ , Kurt Cobain from _Nirvana_ , Jim Morrison from _The Doors_ , Paul McCartney from _The Beatles_ , Elvis, Bon Jovi, U2, Elton John, Billy Joel, Beach Boys, Jimmy Page, Jimi Hendrix, Grateful Dead, Steven Tyler from _Aerosmith_ , Pat Beretar, Blondie, and Stevie Nicks.

Blake's penthouse was a rockstar's paradise. It truly fit the image for the abode of the popular young American rockstar, Blake White, who had managed to earn the title of 'Prince of Punk Rock'. Rosalie saw that there were large blown up photos, and even oil paintings of Blake hanging on the walls. Blake's face was also on pillows, lamps, bobble heads, and ashtrays.

Rosalie had to admit the expensive furniture and rock-themed accessories impressed her, but she frowned when she noticed that there were no photos of friends or family. It made the truly impressive apartment feel...cold. Rosalie wrapped her arms around her body unconsciously.

Blake watched intently as Rosalie looked around his apartment. He felt his chest well up with pride. This was his amazing penthouse and his treasured belongings - who he _was_.

"Pretty impressive, huh?" Blake ran his hand back through his rockstar hair. "I had the famous interior designer Laura Day help me out. It cost a few million to get it looking like this. The penthouse suite rents for $150,000 a year. That 71-inch LG flat screen TV is decorated with 24-carat gold and cost me $76,860." Blake began to brag out his possessions.

Rosalie had to admit to herself it was like a _palace_. She had never seen something so incredible but...it didn't feel like home. There were no pictures of family or friends or even pets...it felt like a Blake White museum. And now that Blake White was dead that's exactly what this place was. A museum. A shrine.

Rosalie knew the rockstar had been relatively close to his band mates so it was strange that there weren't pictures of them around the apartment. Had the ghost really been so egocentric?

"It's cold." Rosalie said gloomily as she entered further into the living room and set down her pet carrier.

Blake's jaw dropped and hit the floor. "Hah? That's all you have to say? By 'cold' you mean...cool, right? Awesome? Spectacular?"

Blake watched as Rosalie ignored him and bent down to open the door to her pet carrier. "Ah, you can't actually be thinking of letting those cats out into MY apartment, can you? Wait-!"

Rosalie ignored Blake and opened the grated door.

"MEOWWW!" Rosalie's five black cats flew out of the pet carrier - incredibly happy to finally be free. The cats immediately began to run around the apartment and explore as cats tend to do.

Lucky began to climb Blake's entertainment center and began to knock CDs all over the floor.

"Ah! Not my CDs! Get away from there, you stupid cat! Not my record collection - some of those are one of a kind! They're worth thousands of dollars!" Blake shouted as he made a grab for Lucky. But Blake's hand passed right through the cat.

Lucky seemed to smile mischievously at Blake and knocked off a few more CDs with a swipe of his paw seemingly on purpose!

"Evil bastard cat!" Blake growled, a fiery aura surrounding him.

Percy ran over to the couch and flexed his paws before beginning to sharpen his claws on Blake's expensive black leather sofa.

Blake's eyes widened in horror. "Nooo! Not my Fritz Hansen PK31 series sofa! I spent $28,990 for that set!"

Dulce was looking around for a liter box and since she couldn't find one decided that Blake's Persian carpet, value: $1.3 million, would have to do.

Blake watched Dulce taking a shit on his Persian carpet and felt faint. "Ah! J-j-just what does that cat think it's doing?!"

Rosalie snorted as she held back a laugh. Luna had a penchant for exploring strange places and somehow managed to get inside a white and blue antique vase - it toppled over and crashed to the floor.

"Ah! My Yuan Dynasty vase, which I purchased for $1.2 million!" Blake moaned putting his face in his hands.

He looked around to see where the last cat - Spottie - was. The cat was nowhere to be seen. Blake had a bad feeling about this...

_Did I lock my bedroom door before I kicked the bucket?_ Blake ran for his bedroom and burst inside.

Sure enough, Spottie was having fun tearing Blake's down pillows apart and chasing feathers which were now floating all around his previously immaculate room. She had already started to sharpen her claws on Blake's Vividus mattress, value: $59,750.

"NOOO!" Blake sunk to his knees and hung his head in despair. Crazed laughter began to bubble up inside of him until he began to laugh loudly. "Ahahaha!" His apartment...his beautiful apartment...his sanctuary...his palace...was under siege by an army of demonic creatures!

Rosalie walked over to stand next to Blake and smiled at the chaos Spottie was making. Rosalie let out a sigh of relief. "Ah, much better. It feels like home now." Rosalie looked around Blake's room curiously. There was a huge four-poster bed with navy blue and black sheets. Next to the bed on either side were two bedside tables. Inside of the room there was a massage chair with all the fun vibration settings. The bedroom even had its own TV and music player. There were more photos of Blake hanging on the walls and shots of Blake taken from various concerts.

Rosalie frowned. But there were no group shots of Blake and his band mates from concerts. She couldn't help but find that odd. Once again the room was devoid of photos of friends and family.

Blake stood up and spun around to glare at Rosalie, fires burning in his lavender eyes. "YOU! You did this! You brought these devil cats into MY apartment and destroyed it! I knew I shouldn't have let you in here. Animals are not allowed in my apartment! Especially cats. I HATE CATS!" Blake roared angrily and the lights began to flicker inside the penthouse.

Rosalie gave Blake a bored look and raised her eyebrow at him. "Destroyed? We fixed it. It was so cold and impersonal before...now it's 'lived in'." Rosalie declared before walking over and plopping down on the bed. "This is a very nice apartment..."

Blake fumed for a few more moments before stalking over to the bed and lying down next to Rosalie on the mattress that was completely covered in feathers. He watched the feathers floating around his room in disbelief. He began to laugh again. This situation was so...absurd.

Rosalie began to laugh as well and the two laughed together on the bed. Spottie got tired of chasing feathers and hopped up on the bed to snuggle up against Rosalie. The medium absentmindedly scratched Spottie behind her ears.

"Well, I'm so glad you like it." Blake began, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "So, I'll let you stay on one condition." Blake began, an evil smile stretching across his face.

_Uh oh._ Rosalie turned her head to look at Blake quizzically. "And what's that?"

Getting to stay for free in a place like this...she should have known there'd be a catch!

"You have to be my slave." Blake started, "And your first assignment is to get yourself hired by Wraythe Records. That way you can start investigating all of the people who were close to me, and then figure out who dared to kill the glorious me. But don't worry, I won't make you hurt anyone...I'll figure out how to get revenge on whoever did this to me all on my own.

"If you do that you and your cats can stay here as long as you want. They can even use my furniture as their personal scratching posts and my Persian carpets as their litter boxes and...I'll pay for all their food and medical expenses. I probably still have a little bit of spending money in my safe. Now that I think about it...you could also use the money I give you to help your father. And you have to start calling me 'Master'. So what do you say, slave?"

Rosalie thought it over...and realized she didn't have much of a choice. She had nowhere to go, no one to turn to...just Blake White...and he was _dead_. Rosalie nodded slowly. "Alright. You have a deal...Master." She cringed as she said the last word.

Blake grinned. "Awesome...I can't wait to get my hands on the son of a bitch who-" Blake saw Rosalie's horrified look and coughed awkwardly. "Anyways, let's make sure my emergency money is still in the safe...the safe is behind that painting of me." Blake waved his hand imperiously in its direction.

Rosalie nodded and walked over the rectangular painting of Blake and pulled on it. The painting opened like a book cover to reveal the safe.

"The combination is 0708." Blake informed Rosalie.

_His birthday again? Egotistic ghost._ Rosalie punched the combination in and the safe opened. Rosalie opened the safe and her eyes bugged. There were stacks and stacks of money inside the safe. She had never seen so much money before in all her life. "H-H-How much money is in there?"

Blake shrugged. "Not much, I'm afraid, just pocket change. There should be at least a mil in there."

"A mil?" Rosalie staggered backwards, feeling faint. "A _million_ dollars?"

Blake nodded. "That's right."

"And I can really use this money to help my father?" Rosalie asked quietly.

"Of course, as long as you help me...now, firsts things first." Blake looked Rosalie over. "You'll need a new identity. You're going to become Ro the Stylist." Blake pointed at Rosalie dramatically. "We'll get you some new clothes, a fake ID, and business cards. Then we'll go to Wraythe Records and give your resume to Manager Brody. You'll get hired with my help, Rosalie. But you won't be able to do this without me. So just follow my lead."

"O-Okay." Rosalie agreed.

Blake floated around Rosalie and looked her over more critically before shaking his head. This gloomy girl would need a lot of work. "You'll have to do something about that disgusting mop of hair on your head. We'll get you a contact lens prescription. You'll need a total makeover. Making a beggar girl like you look decent is not going to be easy. This is going to be expensive..."

Blake's harsh words stung. "Makeover? Carrie's wanted to give me one of those since I first met her...maybe she could help. And she already knows what's going on and about you. She'd keep our secret." Rosalie suggested.

"That crazy Goth girl...but she dresses like a freak. What if she turns you into one too? I want you to look stylish, not _freakish_." Blake crossed his arms over his nicely toned chest with a huff.

"I saw her reading VOGUE when she thought I wasn't looking. Trust me...I think Carrie can help me...us..." Rosalie insisted softly.

Blake sighed but had to admit it was a good idea. He nodded. "Alright, fine, you can call the freak..."

Rosalie smiled and made her way over to the phone. "Do you think the phone still works?"

Blake gave Rosalie 'a look'. "This is a hotel, not an apartment building - the phone will always be working. I'll have to figure out how you can make the rent payments on this place later..."

Rosalie dialed Carrie's cell phone number and the Goth witch immediately picked up. " _Hello_?" Carrie asked.

"Hey Carrie, it's me Rosalie." Rosalie said.

" _Rosalie!? How are you? You like just disappeared...I was worried. Are you okay?_ "

"Yes, I'm okay, but I need your help. I need you to meet me at this hotel. Think you can come over tomorrow morning? And I need you to bring everything you would need in order to give me a full makeover."

" _Alright, I understand. When I get there tomorrow morning you have a lot of explaining to do, young lady! Now where the hell are you?_ "

"The Chateau Marmont Hotel. I'm on the seventh floor in penthouse suite 701."

" _Oh my Goddess. I'm not even going to ask. I'll be there tomorrow morning at eight o'clock._ "

"Okay. Thank you, Carrie."

" _What are friends for?_ " Carrie said before ending the call.

"She'll be here tomorrow at eight o'clock." Rosalie informed Blake.

Blake nodded. "Good...you can feel free to watch TV or listen to some of my CDs or play some video games until you go to bed."

"CDs?" Rosalie's interest was piqued. The medium hopped off the bed, padded her way to the living room, and over to Blake's entertainment center. She began to peruse his collection of rock, punk rock and heavy metal CDs, and excitedly noticed that all of _Erotic Corpses_ ' albums were there.

Rosalie picked an _Erotic Corpses_ CD and popped it into the CD player. She pressed play and cranked up the volume. Blake's voice and his band mates' playing began to fill the apartment.

Rosalie took her hair out of her ponytail and shook her wild, curly hair out. She picked up a pencil to sing into and began to sing along with Blake's voice.

Blake's eyes widened as he watched her. He had been surprised and touched that Rosalie had chosen to play one of his CDs and that she could sing along with the song. She impressively knew all the words but she was completely tone-deaf. Although Blake had to admit that she was passionate and that he liked her energy and enthusiasm. She was reminding him of that bride he had seen singing in the rain in the ghetto...

"Ah!" Blake suddenly realized, pointing his finger at Rosalie. "That bride - was you! Wasn't it?"

Rosalie blinked. "Um?"

"I saw a runaway bride singing in the rain to one of my songs...it was you wasn't it?" Blake insisted.

Rosalie blushed when she realized what the singer was talking about. "Ah, that time..." It had been right after Dr. Cole had assaulted her and tried to cut her heart out of her chest.

Blake had still been alive then...the singer wondered what could have happened if he had gotten out of the car and started to sing along with Rosalie...would that moment in time have changed his fate?

But nothing was stopping him from sharing his gift with her now. Blake opened his mouth and began to sing.

Rosalie felt a warm, fuzzy feeling in her stomach as she listened to Blake sing. His voice really was so beautiful, so special...it was really a shame that no one would get to hear his voice again...it was so sad...

Rosalie opened her mouth and began to sing along with Blake. Together they sang and hopped around on Blake's furniture and head banged. Well, Blake floated around or over his furniture, but yea.

Blake was on a high. "You can use my diamond-encrusted, skull-shaped microphone if you want." Blake offered, feeling generous.

Rosalie looked surprised by Blake's offer, but then smiled and nodded. "Thanks." The medium went over to the microphone stand and removed the now portable version of Kylie Minogue's diamond skull microphone. Rosalie took a deep breath and began to sing into the microphone.

Blake felt a twinge of pain in his chest watching Rosalie sing into his favorite microphone. The microphone that he would never get to touch again. The microphone that he was unable to take with him beyond the grave. The ghost reached his hand out towards the microphone wistfully but then brought his hand back to his chest.

Rosalie and Blake sang until the medium fell asleep on the floor out of exhaustion. She awoke the next day to the sound of Carrie knocking on the door. "Ah, that must be Carrie!" Rosalie said as she scrambled off the Persian carpet and replaced the microphone back into the stand carefully. The music was still on and so she turned it off before going to answer the door.

Sure enough it was Carrie. The witch was dressed in a pair of tight black leather pants, and a black, medieval-style shirt with long, belled sleeves that had a purple medieval cross on it. Her violet-colored hair hung loose in waves around her shoulders and her pentagram necklace gleamed on her ample cleavage.

"ROSALIE!" Carrie exclaimed as she dropped her bags of stuff and threw her arms around Rosalie and hugged the living daylights out of her.

"Ah, Carrie, I can't breath..." Rosalie choked out.

Carrie immediately pulled back and gave Rosalie an apologetic look. "Sorry..." The Goth girl then looked past Rosalie and gave the penthouse a suspicious look. "He's here isn't he? That arrogant ghost?"

Rosalie nodded. "Yes."

"I knew it!" Carrie talked into the penthouse, hands on her hips and glared about the room. "He got into some kind of trouble didn't he? Where is that bastard ghost...I'll taser him to death!"

Rosalie began to laugh nervously as Blake's rage began to build at Carrie's words and the lights in the apartment began to flicker. "He's...floating right next to me. Anyways, Carrie...I've made a deal with Blake. I'm going to get hired by Wraythe Records and help Blake discover his murderer by posing as a stylist. In return I get to stay here...among other things. That's why I need your help to give me a whole new look. Can you help me?" Rosalie gave Carrie a pleading look.

Carrie looked thoughtful. "So you decided to help Blake after all. Of course I'll help you, Rosalie - for _your_ sake though, not Blake's. He's an ungrateful bastard after all."

### Chapter 6: Personality Crisis

Carrie reached out and took a strand of Rosalie's thick, curly, black hair between her fingers. "It's easier to cut curly hair after it's been straightened. Take a seat Rosalie." Carrie said dragging one of Blake's chairs over to the center of the living room.

Rosalie obediently took a seat and Carrie used her Flat Iron to straighten Rosalie's unruly locks. The Goth whipped out two pairs of scissors - one normal pair of stainless steel scissors and one pair of texturizing shears. She spun the scissors around her index fingers and got to work cutting Rosalie's hair and adding lots of funky layers.

Blake hovered nearby and watched Carrie cutting Rosalie's hair with interest. The witch really seemed to know what she was doing. The singer had to admit he was impressed and surprised by the Goth girl's skill. However, his eye began to twitch when he saw that Carrie was getting hair all over his Persian carpet. "Hey, watch it bitch! That's a million dollar carpet you know!"

Rosalie blushed as Blake continued to swear about the mess Carrie was making.

Carrie noticed Rosalie's expression with amusement. "Blake is complaining about me making a mess isn't he? He's so predictable..." The Goth girl grinned maliciously as she purposefully dropped a lock of hair on the carpet. "Oops..."

Blake's eyes widened as he saw Carrie purposefully drop that last lock of hair right on the carpet. His blood was beginning to boil. "Fucking bitch..." The lights inside of the penthouse began to flicker.

Rosalie tensed and looked around the penthouse nervously. "Carrie...please don't tease him. You're making him angry."

"Tch. Tease? Angry?" Carrie stopped cutting and shrugged. "I'm surprised it bothers him so much. I mean, he's dead. So what if I mess up his Persian carpet...it's not like he'll ever get to walk across it again. To still be attached to material things even after you've passed on is... _pathetic_." The witch's lip curled back in a sneer.

Blake bristled with anger. _Impetuous girl!_ How could Rosalie have a friend like Carrie? _Gah...!_ Blake ruffled his hair in exasperation.

Rosalie was beginning to sympathize with Blake. How would it feel to be dead and have people in your house...and not respecting your belongings? Rosalie figured it wouldn't feel good at the very least. "Carrie." Rosalie's voice was firm. "Stop it. You're being cruel." Rosalie accused.

Carrie gave Rosalie a surprised look before she shrugged. "Whatever...let me finish your front layers." The witch added some face framing layers and dramatic angled bangs to Rosalie's hairdo next. She then used some pomade to stick up certain layers in the back to give her new rockstar hairdo some more style.

"There! Finished!" Carrie declared taking a step back and observing Rosalie's new edgy haircut from every possible angle as she walked around the chair to look at the medium's hair. "It's perfect." She looked at Rosalie through a box she made with her hands by putting the tips of her thumbs and index fingers together.

Blake couldn't help but agree as he let out a whistle. Rosalie's hair had turned out really nice.

Carrie could sense that Blake was pleased with how Rosalie looked. She smiled smugly. She knew she was good.

"Can I see?" Rosalie asked.

Carrie shook her head. "I'm not done with you yet, young lady. I need to wax your eyebrows and do your makeup first."

"Wax?" Rosalie asked, head tilted.

Carrie had a strange gleam in her eyes. Next thing Rosalie knew Carrie was putting hot wax beneath her eyebrow's arch with a small wooden spatula. The Goth did the same to her other eyebrow before placing a small, rectangular-shaped piece of white linen cloth over the wax and pressing down with her fingers. Lastly, Carrie gripped the cloth and ripped the hair and wax off in one swift motion on either side.

"Ahhh!" Rosalie screamed in pain but mostly surprise.

Blake flinched, having sympathy pains. Yep, beauty was pain. He remembered the time he had to have embarrassing sensitive places on his body waxed in preparation for a VOGUE photo shoot where he was dressed in nothing but a Speedo.

Carrie bopped Rosalie on the head lightly. "Don't make such a big deal out of it, crybaby." The Goth scolded but put an ice cube against the medium's skin to take away the pain anyways. Next, Carrie got out her stainless steel makeup box and opened it to reveal a nice collection of brand name makeup: _MAC_ , _Benefit_ , _Stila_ , _Hard Candy_ , and _Urban Decay_.

Blake was nodding to himself as he recognized some of the brands he himself had used. As a rockstar it was not unusual for him to wear stage makeup consisting of heavy eyeliner, glitter, black lipstick, and the occasional colored mascara. And there was nothing gay about a male rockstar wearing makeup, okay.

Carrie began to apply Rosalie's makeup. First, she used a concealer to hide the medium's skin imperfections. Next, she applied a liquid base using a sponge, and then dusted powder over Rosalie's face with a brush. Then she started on Rosalie's incredible ice-blue eyes...

First, the Goth used an eyelash curler to shape Rosalie's lashes. Then she applied a shimmery gold base to Rosalie's entire eyelid all the way up to her brows. Using a dark blue eyeshadow she accentuated Rosalie's closed eyelid by creating a blue 'V'. This made Rosalie's eyes appear wider and larger.

The witch then lined Rosalie's eyes with black liquid eyeliner and then finished the medium's eyes by using waterproof mascara on Rosalie's eyelashes. Carrie dusted a pale pink blush along her cheekbones. Lastly, Carrie applied a pale pink colored lipstick to Rosalie's lips and topped it with a clear lip-gloss to give Rosalie's lips a high gloss look.

Carrie nodded to herself, pleased with her finished product and went to fetch a hand mirror so she could show Rosalie what she looked like now.

Rosalie fidgeted nervously in her chair as she waited for Carrie to return. "Do I look okay?" Rosalie asked Blake, unable to wait.

Blake moved to hover in front of Rosalie - right in front of her face and stroked his chin thoughtfully. Truthfully, the girl before him didn't even look like the 'Rosalie' or the 'beggar girl' he had come to know and lo-! Blake coughed into his hand.

She looked like a princess. The medium really had made a Cinderella-like transformation, and Carrie was like her Goth Fairy Godmother. Blake thought to himself amusedly.

Rosalie's ice-blue eyes really stood out now, especially without her glasses. Her glossy, plump lips looked extremely kissable.

Before Blake even realized what he was doing he began to lean in towards Rosalie's lips.

Rosalie's eyes widened. Was Blake going to kiss her?!

However, the spell was broken when-

"Found one!" Carrie declared reentering the living room with a hand mirror.

Blake immediately floated backwards and away from Rosalie. He turned his back to Rosalie swiftly. He didn't want the girl to see his conflicted expression and flushed cheeks. He covered his mouth with his hand. What had he just been about to do? Had he really been about to kiss beggar girl?! Why would he want to kiss her? _Ah! What the hell is wrong with me?_ Blake gripped his head in frustration. He was Blake White. Girls like Rosalie were completely beneath him.

Rosalie jumped and turned to face Carrie, her face bright red. Had Blake really been about to kiss her? _No way._ And would she have felt anything anyways? Blake was dead...a ghost. Rosalie frowned at the depressing thought.

Oblivious to Rosalie's inner turmoil, Carrie held the mirror up in front of Rosalie and for a moment the gloomy girl didn't get what she was seeing. She blinked repeatedly and then her eyes widened. "Is that...me?" Rosalie couldn't even recognize herself...that pretty girl in the mirror couldn't be her!

Carrie laughed. "Of course it's _you_ , silly. Geez...and we're not even done with your makeover yet. Blake suggested it would be safer for you to come up with an entirely new identity, right? That means we still need to pick out clothes for you to wear. And what's your new name going to be?"

Blake thought about it a moment before he responded. "Ro Ripper. Rosalie is a common name so it should be okay for her to keep it as long as she abbreviates it for now."

"Ro Ripper." Ro repeated thoughtfully, trying out her new name.

Carrie nodded, "Ro Ripper. I like it. It's macabre."

"Tell Carrie that she needs to help you order some business cards online that have your new name on them as well as your profession as a pro stylist. You should also set up an email. Since you don't have your own cell phone number yet we'll just put this penthouse's telephone number, and your email on the card for your contact information for now." Blake instructed.

Ro repeated Blake's instructions to Carrie. The Goth agreeably pulled out her laptop and connected to the Internet via the hotel's Wi-Fi. Carrie went to www.hotmail.com and created Rosalie a new email. RoRipper@hotmail.com. Carrie continued to surf the net and at Blake's suggestion went to www.fedex.com and ordered Ro her very own business cards.

"Now, all you need is a fake ID, right? I wonder where we can get you one..." Carrie began giving Ro a helpless look.

"Um...I might know someone who could make me a fake ID." Ro piped up.

Carrie and Blake shot incredulous looks towards each other (though Carrie's gaze was directed at the sofa). Carrie raised an eyebrow at Ro. "Who?"

"CJ...he's a young man who lives in my neighborhood. Well, former neighborhood." Ro began to explain.

Carrie knew that Ro used to live in the hood and the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. "Alright, I'll take you to the hood on my bike. But before that there's one more very important thing that we need to do." Carrie stated as she got out a pad of paper and a pen.

"What's that?" Ro asked as she came to stand behind Carrie and peered over her shoulder at the piece of paper.

Carrie uncapped a red pen. "We need to make a list of the murder suspects. That way you can cross people off the list once you've figured out if they're guilty or not, and we can clearly narrow it down to the perpetrator."

Ro nodded in agreement. "Alright." The two girls discussed who the current suspects were and came up with the following list:

Murder Suspects:

1. Devon Decayn

2. Vincent Sangre

3. Joey Bones

4. Sadie Skellington

5. Damion Hellsing

6. Gol Gotha

7. Morg Di Morte

8. Harper the chauffer

9. Manager Brody Beck

10. Leila Darkchylde

11. William Wraythe

Carrie stared down at the list and capped her pen. "Done." She stood up and grabbed her helmet motioning for Ro to follow her. True to her word, Carrie took Ro back to her original hometown in the hood. The Goth rode through the street until Ro pointed out CJ's apartment building. CJ and his friends were sitting on the front steps listening to _Erotic Corpses_ explode from their boom box. The teenaged delinquents looked surprised and happy to see Ro (alive). Carrie pulled her bike right in front of them.

"Hey, it's white girl, I mean, Nurse Galloway!" "She's still alive!" "Sweet!" "Hey girl, did you pop that bastard?"

Carrie looked at the African-American teenaged boys curiously. They looked harmless enough. They were all wearing hoodies, baseball caps, beanies, and had fake gold chains around their necks. They were obviously trying to get the gangsta look going but Carrie knew they were too young to be actual gangsters.

Blake was beginning to figure out where Rosalie got her hands on that gun. He laughed out loud and grinned at the little hoodlums. At least they had good taste in music! Blake liked these teens already!

Ro blushed. Carrie looked confused.

CJ grinned at Rosalie revealing his bright white teeth. "What can we help you with this time, Nurse Galloway? You need more bullets?"

"Um, I need a fake ID." Ro declared firmly.

CJ and his buddies looked at each other before they all burst out laughing. "This white girl is funny! Why am I not surprised...I see you already gave yourself a new look. Why...? No, never mind, in the hood we don't ask questions. Ah, you got money, right?" CJ asked Rosalie who nodded her head vigorously. "Good, it's gonna cost you a hundred bucks. One fake ID coming right up. Follow me, white girls." CJ stood up and motioned for the two girls to follow him into the dilapidated apartment building as he swaggered inside.

Carrie looked up at the suspicious looking apartment building. Several of the windows were broken and it looked like bullets had caused the holes in the glass. Carrie clung to Ro's arm. "Are you sure we can trust him?" Carrie hissed in Ro's ear.

The medium nodded.

Blake was amused by Carrie's sudden nervousness. "Heh, are you afraid of some kids from the hood? What? Are you racist, witch?" Blake asked, but Carrie couldn't hear him...that was so annoying. Blake huffed as he followed Carrie, Rosalie, and CJ inside the apartment building.

CJ led the girls up some stairs and to his apartment on the third floor, number 305. CJ opened the door and motioned for the girls to follow him inside. "Make yourselves at home..." CJ said as he went to grab his camera from his bedroom.

Carrie was still clinging to Ro's arm as she looked around the messy apartment. Trash was all over the floor - empty pizza boxes, empty Chinese food boxes and not so empty boxes with rotten food inside, and dirty dishes were piled high in the sink. Flies were buzzing around an open trashcan. That oddly enough didn't smell so bad. Carrie noticed the Febreze Stick and Refresh thing attached to the lid of the trashcan and crinkled her nose at it. That had to have been the worse invention for lazy men who didn't want to take out the trash.

Carrie thought she saw _movement_ from within the trashcan and gulped. She _hated_ bugs. Anything with more than two legs really creeped her out! She really hoped there weren't cockroaches in this apartment. Carrie's eyes were drawn towards the table that was in the center of the room next. There appeared to be a pile of white powder on the table. Carrie paled, _cocaine?_

"Do you think that's cocaine?" Carrie hissed in Rosalie's ear as she pointed a trembling finger at the table.

Rosalie looked at the table in question and saw the small pile of white powder on top of a white piece of paper and frowned.

Blake hovered over to the drug and inspected it. "Sure looks like cocaine to me...let's hope there's not a drug bust while you girls are here..."

A mouse skittered over Carrie's boot and she screamed. "Ahhh!"

Ro slapped her hand over Carrie's mouth. "Shhh! Do you want to attract the cops?"

CJ came running out of his room, camera and film in hand. "What's wrong, white girls? Is it the cops? Shit!" CJ whipped out a gun and began pointing it around the room.

"Um, no, a mouse." Ro explained dully.

CJ let out a breath of relief and stuck his gun back inside of his jacket. "Oh, is that all. We have a ton of those little bastards...but at least they help wash the dishes..." CJ grinned with a shrug.

Carrie felt faint.

CJ shrugged. "Well, let's get this show on the road. Stand over there with your back to the wall, Nurse Galloway and take your glasses off. I'm assuming you're going to get contacts - it would help to completely change your image." CJ suggested slyly.

Rosalie nodded, removed her round glasses, folded them, and put them into her pants' pocket. She stood with her back to the wall and CJ began to take a few headshots.

"Okay, done. Give me some time to develop the film and I'll make you your new passport and driver's license." CJ declared as he went off to develop the film in a separate dark room.

Rosalie put her round glasses back on.

One hour later, CJ had the photo and began to make Rosalie her new identifications. "What's your new name going to be?" CJ asked curiously.

"Ro Ripper." Ro explained.

"Ro Ripper!" CJ smirked. "Cool." CJ asked Ro some other questions about the information she wanted on her IDs and Blake gave her the appropriate responses. In just one more hour Rosalie was soon holding a new American passport and driver's license. She felt like Jason Bourne all of a sudden.

"From this moment onward you are no longer Rosalie Galloway - you are Ro Ripper!" Blake declared.

Carrie patted her friend on the back. "Well done. I'll give you a lift back to your...place." Carrie gave CJ a wary look. Not wanting to say something like 'penthouse suite' in front of the hoodlum. "Then I have to get my ass to work."

"Thanks Carrie." Ro smiled at Carrie and then turned to thank CJ. "And thank you CJ. You're a real lifesaver." Rosalie took out a hundred dollar bill and handed it to CJ.

CJ blushed and scratched his cheek nervously, looking away. He had never noticed how pretty Nurse Galloway was until today. "No prob...if you ever need any more help don't hesitate to come to me. We've got your back here in the hood."

Ro gave CJ a surprised look, but smiled and nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

***

Carrie took Ro back to Blake's penthouse on her bike, and complained about how she wouldn't get to go clothes shopping with Ro because she had to begin her shift at the 7-Eleven.

"Blake should take you shopping. I'm sure he has good fashion sense since he was a famous rockstar and all that jazz. You also have to get yourself some contact lenses and a new cell phone. Take care of her, Blake! Ciao!" Carrie waved before riding off on her bike and speeding down the road impressively as she swerved through traffic.

"Ah, but Carrie-" Ro called after her, but Carrie had already turned around the corner.

Ro looked down at her new driver's license thoughtfully...

"We should go to Rodeo Drive. They sell everything there." Blake suggested with his hands behind his head in a casual pose.

"But how are we going to get there? It's too far to walk from the hotel. Especially if I'm going to be carrying bags of clothes on my way back. Should I take the bus? But I'm sure Stylist Ro Ripper wouldn't take the bus..." Ro pouted.

Blake was stumped for a moment until he remembered that he had put his car keys in a tray on a table that was right besides the entrance door to his penthouse. If the car keys were still there that would mean his baby was still in the hotel's underground parking lot.

"We'll _drive_. That's how." Blake declared as he floated to the entrance of the hotel. "Hurry up and follow me. We'll grab the keys at my penthouse and then we'll be on our way."

"R-Right." Rosalie agreed as she followed after the ghost. They rode the elevator to the top floor and entered Blake's penthouse. The singer told Rosalie where to look for his car keys and sure enough the keys were still in a tray right besides the door.

_Lucky!_ Blake thought. "Come on, grab those car keys and follow me!" Blake rumbled as he floated towards the door.

Ro frowned but did as she was told. "O-Okay." Ro grabbed the keys and followed Blake. The ghost phased right through the door and Ro moved to follow him.

BAM. And smacked right into the door. Whoops. Airhead moment.

"Ow." Rosalie moaned as she held a hand to her smushed nose.

Blake put his head back through the door, having heard the 'thud' sound and wanting to see what had happened. He saw Ro with a hand to her face and burst out laughing. "Idiot...you're _not_ a ghost."

Ro frowned at Blake before she began to laugh too. "I wish I was...then my nose wouldn't hurt so much..." Ro said carelessly.

Blake stopped laughing, and sobered immediately, his expression turning grim. "No you don't." Blake moved out of the door and floated his way silently to the elevator.

Ro opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. She closed the door behind her, which automatically locked. She saw Blake silently hovering next to the elevator and realized that she had put her foot into her mouth as she took in his dejected posture. "Blake, I'm so-"

"Press the elevator summoning button." Blake ordered coldly.

Ro sighed and did as she was told. She pressed the button and summoned the elevator. The doors opened and she stepped inside, Blake floated in next to her.

"Press the button for the garage." Blake instructed Ro next.

Ro did as she was told and the elevator doors closed. The elevator began to descend and the elevator binged as the doors opened upon the garage. Ro stepped out into the garage and Blake floated besides her.

"This way." Blake began to lead the medium through the garage and around several fancy Ferraris, Lotuses, Rolls and Bentleys, until-

Blake suddenly stopped and stood still as he looked upon his _baby_.

A silver and black Maserati Gran Turismo wrapped in silver chrome giving its silver exterior an extra shinny effect. There was a black racing stripe on its front hood - giving the car a fast, sleek look.

Ro peeked over Blake's shoulder and looked at the car - her eyes bugged. She had never seen a car like it before. She didn't even know what it was. It looked like it was from the future. It was the perfect car for the 'Prince of Punk Rock' with a little crown on its muffler even. "W-What kind of car is that?" Ro breathed, ice-blue eyes shinning with admiration.

"That, beggar girl, is a Maserati GT." Blake informed Ro. "She's my baby. She has a V8 engine that generates up to 460 horsepower. Her max engine speed is 7,200 RPMs. Top speed 303 kilometers per hour. It can go from 0 to 100 kilometers per hour in 4.6 seconds. I spent around 150,000 Euros for her." Blake gushed, his chiseled chest swelling with pride.

Ro rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised you didn't die in a car accident." She said dryly.

Blake frowned at her and went over to his car to stroke its hood lovingly. He reached his hand out to touch his car but his hand passed right through his car. His happy expression faltered. He could no longer touch his beautiful baby. Blake took his hand back and clenched his fist. "Well, what are you waiting for, beggar girl? Hurry up and get in."

Ro blinked. "Huh? Excuse me?"

"We're going to Rodeo Drive and _you_ 're driving. Be honored I'm letting you drive _my_ baby." Blake said, in a haughty manner.

"You want _me_ to drive your precious Maserati? I can't..." Ro began nervously.

"Hah?" Blake was beginning to lose his patience with the medium. "Why not? Don't you know how to drive?" Blake snarled at her.

Ro gulped. "I know how to drive but...not very well. I took Driver's Ed in high school and managed to get my license but...since I couldn't afford to buy a car I haven't driven since then..." Ro began to explain.

Blake raised an eyebrow at her explanation. "But you do know how to drive. Well, hurry up and get in! I don't have all day!" Blake shouted, exasperated.

"Y-Yes!" Ro squeaked and quickly unlocked the driver's side door and got inside the car. The leather seats were super soft and the car still had that new car smell. Ro thought that this was odd. She put the key into the ignition and started the car. She put both her hands on the soft leather steering wheel. "Is this car new?" Ro asked.

Blake phased into the car and took a seat in the front passenger's side seat, basically concentrating on floating just above the seat while in a sitting position. "No, I've had it for a couple of years." Blake reclined in his seat and put his boots up on the dashboard.

"But then...why does it smell so...new?" Ro remarked as her brow furrowed.

Blake ran a hand back through his stylish rockstar hair. "That's because I never let anyone in here..." Blake admitted softly.

Ro's eyes widened. "You never let anyone ride with you but you're letting _me_ drive your car?"

"It's not like I have much of a choice. I can no longer touch my car. But if you so much as put a scratch on my car, Ro, I will haunt you the rest of your days." Blake growled, his lavender eyes flashing.

Ro gulped and shivered as a chill went down her spine. She put the car into drive and began to slowly pull out of the parking spot. Slowly...super slow...

Blake tapped his boot impatiently against the dashboard. "Tch, will you hurry the fuck up?" Blake barked at her.

"Ack!" Ro squeaked and hit the breaks. The car screeched to an instant stop.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Blake roared as he sat straight in his seat staring at Rosalie in disbelief.

"Don't yell at me! It's making me nervous! If you yell at me I'm going to hit something!" Ro shouted back, her hands trembling.

"If you hit something - you are so dead!"

"Death threats make me nervous!"

"God damn it! We haven't even left the garage! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Tears began to fill Ro's eyes. "I'm sorry...I just don't want to hurt your precious car. I know it means a lot to you."

Blake's anger died instantly and his expression softened. "Tch. As long as you understand...don't worry about it. Just drive, Ro. If you wreck this car we can always buy a new one..."

Ro shot Blake a surprised look. Was Blake trying to comfort her? Ro wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and put her round glasses back on. "Don't worry, I won't put a scratch on your precious car, Master. I can do this." Ro declared as she drove the Maserati out of the garage and onto Sunset Boulevard.

Ro concentrated fully on the road and traffic, making sure not to go too fast and yet not too slow either.

Blake leaned back in his seat as he began to relax. Ro was actually a very good driver - just a little stiff. "Turn right here. I want to get you some contact lenses first. I'm tried of looking at you in those dorky, cracked glasses." Ro nodded and turned right. "The optometrist is right over there. Pull up in front." Blake instructed as he pointed out a specific two-story building.

Ro did as she was told and pulled the Maserati right in front of the building. Ro got out of the car and made her way with stiff steps to the optometrist's office. Blake shook his head ruefully at Ro and followed.

The optometrist, Ms. Kimberly Young, was available and so Ro took the eye exam and got a new prescription that she could use for glasses and for contacts. Ms. Young recommended the contact lens brand _Acuvue 2,_ and happened to have a few boxes of them in stock with Ro's new prescription. Ro paid for her eye exam and a few boxes of contact lenses with cash (Blake's money).

Ro took off her glasses, folded them and put them into her pocket. She then borrowed some of the eye doctor's contact solution so that she could put her new contact lenses into her eyes. From the optometrist's office, Ro and Blake walked down Rodeo Drive (Blake floated) and the ghost pointed out a cell phone store to Ro next. He told the medium to get the Samsung Galaxy S4 phone, which cost $619.99! Ro almost fainted at the price but did as she was told.

After that, Blake took Ro to the _Armani_ store and the _Prada_ store, and chose several stylish outfits for her to wear - outfits that would make her claim of being a stylist much more believable. He chose a lot of black and white outfits, and a few outfits that had some dark blue in them to bring out Rosalie's stunning eyes. Sequined bra tops, lace-up corsets, tank tops with rhinestones, tight leather pants, short shorts and more. Rosalie blushed at some of the items Blake thought she'd be getting into. _I'm going to look like a prostitute!_ Rosalie inwardly moaned.

Afterwards, loaded down with five bags in each hand Ro staggered down the street back to Blake's Maserati. The ghost had his hands behind his head as he strut down the sidewalk next to Rosalie and was whistling a little tune happily to himself. Blake wasn't gay, but he sure loved shopping.

Ro became irked by his carefree behavior as she huffed and puffed down the street. "Hey, are those muscles of yours just for show? Why don't you help me with these bags?" Ro complained.

Blake stopped in his tracks and raised an eyebrow at Ro. "I would if my hands wouldn't just pass through the bags."

...Ro blinked and then realized what she had just asked a _ghost_. Oops. She kept forgetting that Blake White was dead! She was so...inconsiderate and heartless. The medium's blood drained from her face. "Blake, I'm so-" Ro began to apologize.

But Blake raised his hand, signaling for her to quiet. "Save it. It doesn't really bother me that you keep forgetting I'm...well, its better like this." The singer smiled lopsidedly at her.

Ro smiled softly. "Okay."

Ro and Blake made their way back to the singer's silver and black Maserati. Ro struggled to fit all of the bags inside the car and then got into the driver's side seat. Blake phased into the passenger's side seat. Ro started the car and pulled out into traffic. They began to make their way back to Blake's penthouse suite.

Meanwhile, rockstar Joey Bones was cruising in his sporty, yellow and black Lamborghini Murcielago - driving down Rodeo Drive at top speed while trying to escape the paparazzi that were currently in pursuit of him. Joey was wearing a pair of yellow and black wayfarer sunglasses on his face, a pair of _LMFAO_ 's yellow and black zebra print pants and a black t-shirt.

Joey swerved around a car that was in front of him and moved in front of it only to have to break suddenly because the car in front of him had just come to a stop at a red light!

Joey was already running late for _Erotic Corpses_ ' scheduled interview with Chelsea Handler, for the _Chelsea Lately Show_ that would air on the _E! Network_. He had to get his ass over to the Digital Media Center, on 12312 West Olympic Boulevard A.SAP. Joey was extremely nervous about this interview since he was sure that Chelsea was going to bring up Blake's death. Joey's hands clenched around his steering wheel at the thought. And then-

BONK. Joey felt the car behind him run into his beautiful baby! Joey's eyes widened in concern and horror. "My baby!" Joey emerged quickly out of the driver's side door to go inspect the damage to his bumper.

Meanwhile, back to Ro and Blake...

When the yellow and black car abruptly swerved in front of Ro and then suddenly had to break, Ro tried to step on the brakes as fast as possible, but she just wasn't fast enough. The Maserati ran right into the sports car from behind. Luckily, Ro hadn't been going that fast and so there wouldn't be a LOT of damage, but she had definitely hit the car. That amount of damage to repair on an expensive car would probably be quite costly. Ro thought to herself, her life beginning to flash before her eyes.

She was going to end up in debt! "Oh no, what did I just do? Did I really just hit that car? I can't look..." Ro covered her eyes. "It looked like an expensive Italian car. Blake what kind of car did I just hit? Please let it be a Honda..."

Blake looked at the car in front of them with a pensive scowl on his face. That car looked awfully familiar. "It looks like a Lamborghini Murcielago. It can cost anywhere from $300,000 to $500,000 depending on what features are chosen. My band mate Joey had that exact same car..."

Ro paled. "A La-La-Lamborghini?! Oh no. Should we make a run for it? The old hit and run?!" Ro began to laugh in a somewhat maniacal fashion as she began to loose it.

"..."

Ro and Blake watched as the owner of the yellow and black Lamborghini got out of his car and moved to inspect the damage to his bumper. There was definitely a small visible dent. Blake's suspicions were confirmed as soon as he saw the young man exit the car. It was indeed Joey Bones - his ex-band mate and the bass guitarist of _Erotic Corpses_. "Joey? What the hell is he doing here? And driving like a maniac?" Blake muttered under his breath.

But Ro caught his every word. "Joey? You mean your band mate? _That_ Joey? Murder suspect Joey?!" Ro began to panic and she gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"Shhh! He's coming over here. Try to act natural." Blake instructed Ro.

Ro took a deep breath and nodded. Her hands making deep indents into the steering wheel. She was so nervous.

Joey walked over and knocked on Ro's window. The medium quickly rolled it down.

"Hey...you know you hit my car, right?" Joey was saying when Ro turned to face him-

_Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump._ Joey's heart began to beat madly in his chest.

It was love at first sight!

A stunning young woman with the most magnificent and unusual eyes he had ever seen was facing him and smiling tremulously. Her eyes were ice-blue and had a ring of dark blue around their irises. She had a stylish haircut and was driving the exact same car that his friend Blake used to drive...used to...Joey shook his head from such sad thoughts.

It had to be fate!

"Ah, yes, I'm so sorry...I don't have any insurance...how much do you think it will cost to repair the damage? I can just pay you cash." Ro said while following Blake's verbal instructions.

"Oh, you put a big dent in my bumper. I think it will end up costing me a few thousand." Joey replied casually.

"A few thousand?" Ro exclaimed in shock.

At the same time, Blake was nodding. "That sounds about right. We'll just pay him. Cash. Go on and tell him, beggar girl."

"We will?!" Ro burst out.

"What?" Joey asked, not knowing that Ro wasn't speaking to him but to Blake.

"Er...no, nothing. I can pay you..." Ro began and started to reach for her purse.

Joey looked at all of the _Armani_ and _Prada_ shopping bags inside Ro's car and realized that this girl was definitely loaded and probably really _could_ pay him right then and there - which meant Joey would never see the girl again.

"I don't know if that's going to be enough," Joey began slyly. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

"Joey Bones - bass guitarist of _Erotic Corpses_." Ro blurted out before Blake could stop her.

Joey raised an eyebrow at her. "Yep, that's me."

"Say you're a fan." Blake said, having a sudden idea.

"I'm a fan." Ro said.

Joey grinned. His smile was as bright as the hot California sun that was beating down on them. "Oh really, but it seems that I'm at a disadvantage here...you know my name but I have yet to learn yours."

"Give him your business card. Hurry up, idiot!" Blake instructed.

Ro fumbled to get out her business card and held it out with both hands to Joey. "My name is Ro Ripper. I'm a professional stylist."

Joey took Ro's card and looked at it curiously. "A stylist..." Joey's grin widened and he looked at Ro with sparkling blue eyes. This girl...really must have been sent from heaven!

Because Blake had fired their last stylist Leila Darkchylde - the band _Erotic Corpses_ had been left without a stylist. The young rockstars also had _no_ fashion sense. Blake had been the one to come up with ensembles for the band to wear during those times when they were without a stylist.

The band had an interview with Chelsea Handler for _E! Network_ that afternoon at 3:00 PM, and Joey and his fellow band mates had no idea what they should wear. Their Manager Brody had informed them that their boss, Mr. Wraythe wanted the band's image to 'mesh' during the interview and for them to look 'united'.

And the young woman in front of Joey now was stylist _and_ was driving the same type of car Blake used to drive. She even shopped at Blake's favorite store on Rodeo Drive. This had to be a sign from heaven!

Joey reached past the window and grasped Ro's hands with his own. "Angel! You're an angel that Blake White has sent in order to help us!"

Ro blinked at Joey in shock and blushed at the fact that he was holding her hands.

Blake frowned at this odd turn of events and didn't really know what to make of it.

"Uh, excuse me, I don't understand..." Ro began.

"Ah, I'm sorry," Joey let go of Ro's hands and scratched the back of his neck out of embarrassment. "I got a little excited. Say, are you working for anyone right now?"

"Say that you're available and that you just finished working with Beyonce." Blake said.

"I'm available right now...I just finished a job for Beyonce." Ro repeated.

Joey's eyes widened. He was impressed. "Beyonce? It's settled. You're coming with me to Digital Media Center. _Erotic Corpses_ has an interview with Miss Chelsea Handler for the _Chelsea Lately Show_ that's going to be shown on the _E! Network._ The interview starts in..." Joey checked his yellow and black digital watch. "Oh my God...20 minutes! I'm so going to be late!"

"Huh?" Ro asked dazedly.

"You're hired! Hurry up and follow me! You owe me big for denting my car, Ro. I'm letting you off easy by letting you work it off." Joey shot Ro a playful wink before he ran to his car, hopped inside and began to drive off.

"Hey, snap out of it, idiot! Hurry up and follow him. This is the perfect opportunity! If you do a good job today you might just get hired as the official stylist for _Erotic Corpses_!" Blake proclaimed.

"Uh...right!" Ro drove after Joey - still not really getting what was going on. Everything was suddenly happening so fast. It was like she was Dorothy caught up in a tornado all of a sudden and being whisked away to the Land of Oz.

Joey led Ro to the Digital Media Center and parked his Lamborghini out front. Ro parked the Maserati right behind Joey's car and got out of the car.

Earlier that day, at the _Armani_ store Blake had chosen a few items for his fellow band mates in foresight. "Don't forget to take the bag with the items we already chose for the band." Blake reminded Ro.

"Oh, right." Ro picked up the bag that had the accessories that she and Blake had chosen. She gave the car keys to a uniformed valet that was standing just outside the entrance to the building.

"If you scratch my car - I'll fucking kill you." Blake told the valet.

Ro shivered and so did the poor valet. Joey swiftly led the way into the Digital Media Center building. "Hurry up and follow me. God, we're so frickin late. Shit...Manager Brody is going to kill me!" Joey moaned.

"Manager Brody? Is he going to be here?" Ro asked curiously, remembering the man who had been in flip fops, a Hawaiian shirt and who had been smoking a cigar at Blake's funeral! He was on the list of murder suspects that she and Carrie had made together.

"Yea, you'll meet everyone soon." Joey headed for the dressing room that had been provided for the band in order to get ready for their interview. Joey stopped in front of a door that had a yellow star on it with the band's name, before knocking. "Yo, it's me!"

"I don't know who the hell 'me' is but you had better get your ass in here because you're late!" Came a gruff voice.

Joey gave Ro an amused look before opening the door and motioning for the medium to follow him inside with Blake floating behind them both.

Rosalie looked around the spacious dressing room curiously. On the left hand side was a long counter attached to the wall and four mirrors surrounded by lights were attached to the wall above the counter. Four chairs sat in front of the long counter giving the band a place to sit down and work on their hair and makeup.

Against the back wall were racks of clothing and accessories for the band. To the right was a small sitting area where the rockstars could relax with a long red leather couch, two matching, comfy looking armchairs, and a low glass table.

Seated on the couch was Devon Decayn. Devon was known for his classic rockstar appearance. He was wearing his usual short, black leather jacket with metal spikes on it, a black t-shirt with a fallen angel design that looked like a zombie with wings, an array of chain necklaces around his neck, a pair of black leather pants and a pair of combat boots. The cocky rockstar had his feet up on the glass table in front of him.

Next to him on the couch was Sadie Skellington. She was snuggled up against Devon's left side and had her arm wrapped around Devon's arm. She wore a blissful smile on her cherubic face while Devon wore a stoic expression.

Sadie was sporting a cute rockstar girl look. Today she was wearing a hot pink bra with a sheer black shirt over it that hung off of one of her shoulders. She had on a pair of jean capris and a pair of tall high-heeled shoes. She wore a silver heart pendant around her neck that had a skull on it.

Ro stumbled to a stop when she spotted the snuggling couple on the couch. Sadie was so obviously 'with' Devon now. And Blake hadn't even been dead a week! _Oh my God._ Ro thought. She looked at Blake out of the corner of her eye worriedly and waited to see what his reaction would be.

He was smoldering, fires burning in his lavender eyes. He was so pissed at Devon's obvious betrayal! _That son of a bitch! Fuck him!_ Blake clenched his fists at his sides. The lights in the dressing room and around the mirrors flickered ominously.

Ro's attention was drawn to Vincent Sangre next. The drummer was seated in front of the counter fixing his appearance in the mirror. He was wearing a fancy, lace cravat beneath his chin, and ruffled, white sleeves were poking out from his black jacket. He adjusted the cravat and the ruffles absentmindedly.

Vincent Sangre was known for wearing elaborate Gothic, Victorian, or Renaissance styled suits. His fans thought he looked like a sexy vampire and there was even a rumor going around on the net that he was a _real_ vampire. With his pale skin and long, glossy blood-red hair, Ro could see why the rumors had started.

Vincent was also known for wearing a pair of signature round, yellow sunglasses that were modeled after old-fashioned spectacles.

Presently though Vincent had taken his sunglasses off and Rosalie's gaze went from his fancy suit to his eyes curiously.

She blinked in surprise - Vincent had deep, burgundy red colored eyes! They were just like rubies. They were stunning, captivating, hypnotic.

Vincent turned his attention towards the door as Joey entered and noticed Ro. Vincent immediately made a grab for his sunglasses and put them on his face quickly.

"You're late." Manager Brody complained as he blew a cloud of smoke right in Joey's face from his cigar. "Where the hell were you?"

Joey coughed as he tried to breath and waved his hand at the smoke cloud. The bass guitarist laughed nervously with a hand behind his head. "Ehehehehe. Sorry, sorry. My bad. I have a really good reason for that...first the paparazzi were chasing me and I had to take a detour on Rodeo Drive and then this total babe ran into my car from behind-" Joey jerked his thumb at Ro, who was standing behind him.

Ro looked at Manager Brody curiously. He was wearing a loud red Hawaiian shirt with white flowers, a pair of tan board shorts, and a pair of neon green flip flops. He had a pair of aviator sunglasses on even though they were indoors and he was smoking another cigar. Ro felt everyone's attention suddenly upon her and stiffened.

Sadie narrowed her eyes at Ro. "Who's she?"

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet - Ro Ripper." Joey dramatically motioned his hands at Ro. "She's our new stylist!" Joey announced with great enthusiasm.

"Stylist?" Devon raised an eyebrow and looked Ro up and down with a critical eye. He ran a hand back through his stylish, dark blue hair and hummed thoughtfully. "Is that so?"

Ro fidgeted nervously under Devon's intense stare.

Vincent was the first one to smile. "A stylist? You finally found one...and such a pretty young lady at that...!" Vincent stood up and sauntered over to Ro. He took her hand and placed a kiss on top of it. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Ripper."

Ro blushed - a man had never kissed the top of her hand like that before! "Um, call me, Ro."

Blake rolled his eyes. Vincent was such a player...

"Certainly, Ro." Vincent immediately agreed and let go of Ro's hand.

"You brats need to hurry up and get your act together. This is the Chelsea Lately Show. It's going to be shown on _E! Entertainment Network_. Mr. Wraythe will be displeased if we screw up this interview. Remember he specifically wanted the band to appear united because our fans are apparently worrying that the band might split up because of Blake's suicide." Brody let out a sound of disgust as he looked at the rockstars. "And I see you're all wearing your own shit. Fuck...there's no time anyways. You're on stage in ten minutes."

"Tell them that you've got this and that's why you're here." Blake instructed Ro.

Ro nervously cleared her throat. "I've got this. This is why I'm here..."

"Take out the dark blue fedora and the blue and gray scarf, the black fedora and the black and yellow scarf, and the red fedora with the red and black scarf." Blake told Ro.

Ro did as she was told and rummaged around inside the _Armani_ shopping bag for the specified items.

"Now, go up to Vincent and put the red fedora on his head and wrap the scarf around his neck." Blake instructed.

Ro nodded and went over to Vincent. "May I?"

"Certainly, my lady," Vincent said obligingly.

Ro placed the hat on the drummer's head and then wrapped the scarf around his neck after removing his cravat.

"Now, put the black fedora on Joey, let the scarf hang loose around his neck and get a yellow belt from the rack over there to complete the outfit." Blake ordered.

Rosalie nodded and walked over to Joey next. "May I?" Ro asked again.

Joey chuckled and grinned easily at Ro. "Sure thing, babe. You can dress me up any way you want." Joey winked. "Just call me 'Ken'."

Ro smiled shyly and placed the fedora on Joey's head and hung the black and yellow scarf loosely around his neck. She walked over to the clothing rack and found the yellow belt that Blake had mentioned was there and returned to hand it to Joey. "Please put this on."

Devon was watching Ro calmly. "How did you know there was a yellow belt in our clothing rack?" He asked smoothly.

Ro froze. _Epp!_

"Shit..." Blake swore. "Just tell him the bright yellow color caught your eye and you assumed it might be a belt."

"I just saw it since it's such a bright yellow color," Ro nervously explained.

"Go dress Devon next. Dark blue fedora and tell him he's going to have to take off his leather jacket and those leather pants...you can't wear fedoras and leather together - that would be a fashion faux pas, and we don't want our asses to end up on E Entertainment's _Fashion Police_. Joan Rivers would eat us alive!"

Ro did as she was told and nervously approached Devon. There was something intimidating about the lead guitarist. He was always so cool and composed - _unreadable_.

"Um, you're going to have to take off your leather jacket and your leather pants. Any sort of plain slacks should be okay. You can keep the t-shirt. In fact, its perfect because it has blue and gray like the scarf." Ro explained.

Devon began to stand up but Sadie tugged him back down on the couch next to her and glared daggers at Ro. "Just who do you think you are to boss around Devon Decayn!"

"I-I'm sorry-" Ro immediately began to apologize. But Devon cut her off with a raised hand.

"It's okay, babe, she didn't mean any harm by it. Besides, she's our new stylist...she's just doing her job." Devon shrugged his arm out of Sadie's hold. Sadie pouted. Devon stood up and took his jacket off and put it on the couch. He then took off his boots and then facing Ro he began to take off his pants-!

"Ah, wait-!" Ro burst out.

"No, idiot! It's normal for him to change in the open like that - especially if you're a _Pro_ Stylist. You've _seen_ naked men before! It shouldn't faze you." Blake chided Ro.

Devon had his hands on the top button of his pants and gave Ro a piercing look. "Yes? Is something wrong? Do you want me to undress behind the changing screen?"

Ro began to laugh nervously. "Not at all! Nothing's wrong! Go ahead and take your cloths off because I'm a Pro Stylist and its not like I haven't seen it all before! Ahahaha!"

Devon raised an eyebrow at the strange girl. She sure was _strange_ for a Pro Stylist. "Right." Devon unbuttoned the top button of his pants and pulled his leather pants off to reveal his black boxers with white skulls on them.

Ro tried hard not to cover her eyes with her hands and knew she was probably about as red as a tomato.

"Hurry up and get the pair of plain black pants, size 32 waist." Blake instructed Ro.

Ro nodded and ran over to the clothing rack and sifted through the clothes until she found the pants she needed folded over a hanger. She brought the pants over to Devon and handed them to him with her hand trembling. "These should work...I think..."

Devon looked at the pants curiously and nodded. "Yep, they're my size. How very accurate of you, Miss Stylist." Devon began to put on the pants and Ro let out a sigh of relief. Half-naked men made her extremely nervous!

"Tch, you ain't seen nothing until you've seen _me_ with _my_ clothes off." Blake tugged at his jacket in a thoughtful manner. "I wonder if a ghost can take his clothes off?" Blake began to shrug out of his jacket.

"No!" Ro blurted out at Blake.

"What is it now? Do the pants look bad? Are they too tight?" Devon asked, looking amused.

"Ah...no, I forgot...a belt!" Ro rushed over to the rack and sifted through the clothes and accessories until she found a blue snakeskin belt. Perfect. She ran back over to Devon and handed it to him.

Devon looked down at the belt silently, with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Is something wrong?" Ro asked.

"Hell yea...that's _my_ favorite belt. That asshole can't wear my belt!" Blake burst out.

Ro leaned in close to Devon and spoke in a low voice. "Was it Blake's? I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you wore it then. You were best friends, right?"

Devon frowned. "Blake would kill me for wearing his belt." But Devon put the belt on anyways.

"I'll kill you!" Blake shouted and waved his fist angrily at Devon.

Ro coughed, put the scarf around Devon's neck, and the fedora on the top of his head. Devon put his boots back on beneath the pants so that they were barely visible.

Now Devon, Vincent and Joey all matched while looking scrumptously handsome. Had there been a flash of pain in Devon's eyes as he buckled up the belt? Or had Ro imagined it. The lead guitarist was a murder suspect.

The mood had visibly shifted in the room and had gotten heavier. Vincent and Joey had fallen silent and were watching Devon intently. Devon stroked the belt and looked up to meet the eyes of his band mates.

"Okay guys, remember to stick to the plan. No matter what. We can do this." Devon instructed Vincent and Joey.

"Plan? What plan?" Blake spoke aloud.

Vincent nodded once, looking grim all of a sudden while Joey was looking incredibly nervous and was biting his lower lip.

Sadie looked confused by the suddenly tense atmosphere. Manager Brody seemed completely oblivious to it all. He clapped his hands together as he looked at the band. "You kids look great. Mr. Wraythe will be pleased. Now get your asses out on stage!" Brody clapped Joey on the shoulder. "You finally did something right, Joey. Stylist Ro Ripper will make a great addition to the team."

"Thanks man." Joey nodded and smiled at the usually harsh manager.

The three rockstars left the dressing room with Manager Brody following close behind. Ro was just about to follow after them when a hand on her arm stopped her. Ro turned around to see Sadie giving her an apologetic look. "Hey...I think we got off on the wrong foot." Sadie began and let go of Ro's arm.

_Sadie Skellington. She's also a murder suspect._ Ro thought morosely.

"I'm Sadie Skellington." Sadie stuck out her hand in a friendly manner.

Ro took it. "I know."

Sadie gave Ro a sharp look.

"Idiot!" Blake said.

"Um, what I mean is...how could I not know who you are? You're Sadie Skellington the lead singer of the band _The Necromancers_. I'm actually a fan." Ro decided to say.

Sadie's anger deflated instantly. "Right, of course, sometimes I forget how famous I am! I'm just that good!" Sadie flipped her short blonde hair with her hand. "Anyways, it looks like you're going to be _Erotic Corpses_ ' new stylist. That was really cool back there, what you did. All impromptu like that. Very impressive. We should be friends." Sadie smiled sweetly as she took out a cigarette and lit it up with her Zippo.

Ro tremulously smiled back at the unpredictable female rockstar.

Sadie took a drag on her cigarette. "I've been so worried about what _Erotic Corpses_ was going to do. You see, they've always had trouble with stylists. Blake would always treat their stylists so badly and had such an arrogant attitude that the stylists would either quit or Blake would end up firing them. Blake always acted so high and mighty. As if he were a real prince and not just the Prince of Punk Rock." Sadie laughed, a stream of smoke exiting her mouth.

Ro frowned at the girl. "But...wasn't Blake your boyfriend?"

Sadie nodded. "Yep. That was because despite his foul attitude - Blake White _was_ the number one rockstar in the country and extremely handsome. He was also really good in bed." Sadie leaned in to whisper in Ro's ear. "He was extremely well-endowed. I'd be so sore the next day. Not that I'm trying to be crude...but it's the truth." Sadie pulled back and kept smiling. "Right now I'm the number one female rockstar in this country. The Princess of Heavy Metal. And so it only made sense that we'd be together. We were the perfect celebrity couple - the Prince and Princess of Rock. But now...Blake is dead. And the new Prince of Punk Rock will likely be Devon Decayn. Wouldn't you agree?"

"How can you be so sure?" Ro leaned forward, suddenly curious.

"I know a little secret." Sadie leaned forward as well in a conspiratorial manner. "Devon Decayn can sing. And now that Blake is dead Devon will become the band's singer."

"Fucking bastard!" Blake shouted in outrage. Blake stomped over and kicked the clothing rack as if he wanted to knock it over but his boot just passed right through the rack.

"I see..." Ro said, while giving Blake a nervous look out of the corner of her eye.

"Just so you know Devon Decayn is my boyfriend now." Sadie said as she twirled a strand of her hair and gave Ro a petulant look. "I already asked him out and he said yes."

Ro raised an eyebrow at that. Call her old fashioned but- "He didn't ask you?"

"No - when I want something I go get it." Sadie declared waving her cigarette in the air. "He was kind enough to comfort me at the funeral and since he needed a little comfort of his own too we..." Sadie licked her lips. "You can't tell anyone this by the way, got it? Or I'll kill you." The female rockstar said seriously and when Ro blanched she burst out laughing. "I'm only joking!" Sadie's laugh was a bit of a cackle.

"My lips are sealed." Ro agreed dully.

"Well, we'll see how long you last, Ro. The band has a concert coming up where they'll reveal that Devon is going to be the band's lead singer...and everyone knows it's the stylist's job to design the clothes the band will wear for the concert. If you screw this up it's pretty likely you'll be fired. Good luck!" Sadie declared in a happy peppy manner before skipping past Ro, and out the door.

Ro smiled after her. "She seems nice."

"Idiot!" Blake hit Ro over the head but his fist just passed right through her head.

Ro looked at Blake wide-eyed. "I'm so glad I couldn't feel that!"

"Sadie is the most fake person I know. She acts all cute, sweet, and innocent - but she's the one who seduced me in the beginning. She's a real cat in the sack, and now she's seduced Devon too...from what she says. He's fallen right into her evil clutches." Blake paced the room in an irate fashion.

Ro pouted. "So...Devon isn't at fault?"

Blake turned to meet Ro's questioning look. "No, Devon is still a backstabbing asshole."

"Ah, but Sadie said she wanted to be my friend..." Ro argued.

"Yea, and who even does that? You don't just go up to someone and ask them to be your friend! That's for like five-year-olds...!" Blake sneered.

Ro frowned. "I did that in middle school once. I bought a friendship ring to give to a girl I thought was very pretty named Paige. She seemed really nice..."

"And?"

"And she and her friends laughed at me." Ro revealed dejectedly.

"Not surprised...your _friend_ Sadie was already trying to freak you out about some concert that's coming up. But she's right...you'll probably have to design our - I mean - their outfits." Blake corrected his slipup.

Ro paled. "Me? But...I don't know the first thing about designing clothes!"

"Make your friend, the witch bitch, Carrie, help you. She seemed...knowledgeable in such areas." Blake grudgingly admitted.

Ro nodded vigorously. Hopefully Carrie would be able to get her out of this mess!

"Come on, we're going to miss the interview. It's a good opportunity for you to observe the band's reactions to Chelsea. Especially when they're asked about my suicide. Don't forget all these bastards are murder suspects. They're on the list you and Carrie decided upon this morning."

Ro followed Blake as he floated out of the dressing room. The singer knowledgeably led the way to the film studio. Inside the film studio there was a stage with a desk, chair, and a long leather couch next to it where the band could take a seat. An entire film crew consisting of cameramen, special effects crewmen and a light crew were also present.

Chelsea was already seated behind her desk when Devon, Joey, and Vincent entered on stage and began to walk towards the purple couch.

"I'd like to welcome the young men from the band: _Erotic Corpses_!" Chelsea greeted enthusiastically and with a wide smile revealed her pearly white teeth.

Devon, Joey, and Vincent all waved to the cheering live audience as they took a seat. Devon was acting all cool and aloof, Joey was grinning and waving at the live audience animatedly, and Vincent waved and winked and blew kisses at all of the pretty women specifically.

The rockstar could see that several of their fans were in the audience recognizable due to their zombie fashion and zombie makeup. The zombies had their eye sockets painted black or red, were wearing ripped and slashed shirts and jeans, and had fake blood dripping down from the corner of their mouths. Lady Gaga had her 'little monsters' but the _Erotic Corpses_ had their loyal 'zombies'.

"Hi guys! I just want to start out by saying that you boys are looking quite stylist today! Whose idea was it to wear those matching fedoras?" Chelsea asked shrewdly.

"Our new stylist Ro Ripper actually came up with this, spur of the moment." Devon began to boast in his drawling tone.

Chelsea's blue eyes widened. "Really? Impressive. I was sorry to hear about how Stylist Leila Darkchylde had a bit of a falling out with Blake."

Devon crossed his legs casually. "It was less a falling out and more a misunderstanding. Blake had a skin allergy to synthetic fabrics and fur, and could only wear 100% cotton items, but our stylists never seem to be able to figure that one out." Devon shrugged.

"I see...well, I hope it works out with Miss Ripper then!" Chelsea flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "Maybe I should call her to make me something to spice up my look!"

"You'll get to see her own original designs at our upcoming concert." Devon revealed.

"Ah, yes, well, you heard it right here people. It doesn't sound like you boys are going to split up if you're going to be doing another concert! When is the concert and where is it going to be taking place?" Chelsea asked intently.

"The concert will be held this Saturday night at the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco. Doors open at 8:00 PM and the show starts at 9:00 PM." Devon informed the ex-comedian.

"That's great. That's good news but...as I'm sure your fans are wondering...who is going to _sing_?" Chelsea asked, licked her lips, and leaned forward in her seat.

Devon smiled charmingly. "Ah, I'm sorry Chelsea but that's...a secret. Our new singer will be revealed the night of the concert."

"Ooo. How exciting! I heard your next concert will be a kind of tribute to your former band mate Blake White, and that his songs will be sung - including a brand new never before heard song from _Erotic Corpses_. Now, let me get this straight. I heard that you write and compose all of _Erotic Corpses_ ' songs? Is that correct?"

"Yes..." Devon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "But Blake sometimes helped me to come up with lyrics."

"So you wrote _Erotic Corpses_ ' songs for Blake's _voice_?"

Devon shrugged. "You could say that."

"How do you feel about someone else singing a song that you had originally intended for Blake White to sing?" Chelsea asked.

Devon's face remained pretty expressionless. "I'm sure _this person_ will do a good job."

"So mysterious." Chelsea let out a helpless sigh. "Well, I'm glad to see you boys looking so well and motivated. I'm sure Blake's death was hard on all of you...you were childhood friends, am I right?" Chelsea began as she looked down at some notes she had with her.

"Best friends." Joey piped up.

Devon shot Joey a glare and he instantly shut up and looked sheepish. "The four of us knew each other since we were kids. Joey, Vincent and Blake always had an interest in music and took part in musical activities together at school. I was more into sports growing up, myself."

"Sports? And now you're a rockstar! That surprises me! So you're saying you were a jock?!" Chelsea exclaimed.

"That's right...in high school I was Captain of the football team while Blake, Vincent and Joey had already started their own punk rock band: _The Nipples_. Can you tell that Vincent chose the band name?" Devon asked the audience who burst out laughing.

"At that time, Damion Hellsing - now the lead guitarist of _The Necromancers_ \- was their lead guitarist. It all went to hell though when they were supposed to perform during a high school assembly, and Damion came down with the flu. Blake ended up coming to me and begged me to play the guitar to save their asses." Devon continued to explain.

"Wow...so did you already know how to play the guitar?"

"I did, but wasn't very serious about it. It was more of a parttime hobby to me than my main passion..." Devon admitted.

"So if Damion hadn't come down with the flu that day he would have probably become the lead guitarist of _Erotic Corpses_ and you would have moved on to become a hot professional football player!" Chelsea joked.

Devon laughed and looked embarrassed. "You're probably right, but Blake White always got his way and always got what he wanted. He was the King of our high school and had fan girls even back then before he became truly 'famous'. He turned me into the lead guitarist of his band on a whim of his...he changed my life. You could also say he turned my life _upside down_."

Chelsea gave Devon a searching look. "But you two were...close?"

Devon nodded once. "Yes...but even though we were best friends Blake was always distant and off in his own world. I knew Blake, but I didn't really _know_ him. He kept his problems to himself for example. He liked to bottle things up and in the end I think it cost him his life." Devon explained darkly.

Chelsea's eyes widened. "So you're saying Blake's suicide was stress related?"

Devon shrugged. "Blake was a very outspoken person and yet at the same time a very private person. You could be in the same room with Blake and yet feel very alone."

"Do you know how his girlfriend Sadie has been handling the situation? I last saw on Twitter that she was head over heels in love with Blake. She must be devastated."

"Yes, Sadie was saddened by Blake's death but I think it made her realize that she never really knew Blake either. We comforted each other over Blake's death and...I know this is going to sound sudden, but Sadie and I are going out now." Devon decided to drop the bomb.

Chelsea sat back in her chair, momentarily stunned. "So Sadie Skellington and you are an item now? I need to check Sadie's Twitter page! I'm already behind the times apparently! Are you worried that your zombies will see this as a betrayal to your best friend Blake?"

Devon shook his head. "I think our fans are smart and understanding. Blake wasn't very serious about Sadie anyways and from what she's told me he seemed to just be playing with her. Sadie said that he didn't want to be in a serious relationship and just wanted to be 'friends with benefits'."

Ro blushed and Blake noticed. "What the hell? I never said that bull!" Blake shouted. _At least not to anyone else except for Sadie._

"Friends with benefits?! He said that?" Chelsea made a disgusted look. "I see...and what about you? Are you serious about Sadie?"

Devon's expression warmed and he smiled. "Yes. I like Sadie very much. I want to date her and be in a serious relationship with her that might lead to marriage. Right now I want Sadie all to myself."

The zombies in the audience all 'Ooed' and 'Ahhed'.

"Oh wow," Chelsea said, "Marriage? You're pretty bold to throw that word out there like that, don't you think, Mr. Angel of Death? You'll be breaking a lot of hearts if you decide to tie the knot so soon."

Devon chuckled at that. "I don't think so. I think when a man is truly serious about a girl he should 'man up' and take responsibility for his emotions."

Chelsea nodded, looking impressed. "Well said. You're so unlike drummer Vincent Sangre! I know the female zombies are curious to know if wedding bells are ringing in the nearby future for you, Vincent?" Chelsea directed her next question to Vincent.

Vincent chuckled, his laugh as smooth as black velvet. "Maybe if I were dating a woman as stunning as you Chelsea I would be considering marriage." He winked.

"Oh stop! I'm way too old for you - you're like what 25? And I'm 27. Hahaha! You're as bad as the Beiber!"

"No, I'm much worse, I can assure you," Vincent drawled teasingly as he made a long-stemmed red rose appear from out of nowhere and handed it to Chelsea. "For you, my lady."

"My, my." Chelsea said as she took the rose.

The female zombies in the audience all made excited noises. "Kyahhh!"

Chelsea brought the rose to her nose to smell it. "You know there are rumors about you that you are a playboy and that you'll only go out with a girl for exactly one month before breaking up with her. Is there any reason for that?"

Vincent shrugged. "What can I say, Chelsea? There are so many delectable mermaids in the sea to sample, and I haven't tasted nearly enough of what this world's ocean has to offer."

Chelsea laughed. "My, you do have a way with words, Mr. Heartbreaker. You do know what your fans are called, right? Life or Death fans! Some of these fan girls even believe that you're a vampire and they want you to suck their blood, kill them and turn them into immortal Zombie-Vampires. What do you think of that?"

Vincent touched his lips in a thoughtful gesture. "I think these girls have been watching a little too much _Twilight_. I'm no Edward Cullen. I'm just a normal mortal guy...sadly enough." Vincent put out his hands in a helpless gesture and shook his head.

"Sureeee." Chelsea didn't sound so convinced as she observed Vincent with her chin in hand. "Why don't you ever remove your sunglasses? The zombie fan girls are dying to know!"

"In the digital age we live in with _Facebook_ , _Twitter_ , cell phones, texts, status updates, and the paparazzi - it's hard to remain 'mysterious' Chelsea. So I decided to just keep my sunglasses on..." Vincent joked.

Chelsea laughed. "Brilliant! Well, it worked. Your fans have given you the nickname 'Vampire Prince'. You're definitely the mysterious one. Blake White was the arrogant, punkass, street fighting one that your zombies nicknamed 'the White Ghost'. Devon you're the cool, confident, serious one and your zombies have nicknamed you 'the Angel of Death'. As for, Joey Bones, your zombies have nicknamed you 'the Dancing Skeleton', which makes sense since he's the fun and cute one who knows how to break dance."

Joey pouted. "Hey, I can be sexy and mysterious too Chelsea...maybe I should wear a mask like Gol Gotha..." Joey wrapped the scarf around the bottom half of his face. "Does this make me look sexy and mysterious, Chelsea? Like the Lone Ranger?"

The zombie fans all laughed loudly in response to Joey's antics.

Chelsea laughed as well. "I don't know, but...I'd do you! Hahahaha! You look so innocent though - I'd feel like I was corrupting you."

Joey nodded in agreement. "It's my 'baby face' - Leonardo DiCaprio had the same problem I do." Joey moaned.

"And how did he solve his problem?" The ex-comedian raised her eyebrow at the bass guitarist.

"He didn't. You don't think he's 'sexy' either do you?" Joey's blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

Chelsea blinked. "No, actually, I don't. You're right - he definitely falls into the 'cute' category. He should have been in a pop boy band or stuck to romantic comedies."

"It's the 'baby face' curse." Joey let out a helpless sigh.

"A lot of people say you wear your heart on your sleeve, Joey." Chelsea leaned forward with her chin propped on her hands. "Which is why I'm so surprised to see you looking so...happy. Were you not very close to Blake?"

"I..." Joey faltered and opened and closed his mouth as if he were trying to speak but was unable to form words.

Devon put a hand on Joey's shoulder and squeezed it. "Joey also felt deceived by Blake's suicide. Blake was our best friend since childhood but we barely knew anything about him. He put up walls and didn't let us in. He was obviously suffering but he never told us what was wrong and he betrayed this band by killing himself. He left us - abandoned us - and I don't think we'll be able to forgive him anytime soon. I think what we're feeling more than sadness right now is anger, hurt and disappointment, Chelsea. We would have been there for him, supported him with whatever it was. But Blake didn't trust us. It's as simple as that, so were we friends? Really? I wonder Chelsea, I wonder."

***

Blake felt like Devon was flinging daggers into his no longer beating heart. How come the dead could still feel pain? Blake felt his eyes burn but figured he shouldn't be able to cry anymore.

How could his friends do this to him...insult him...humiliate him on national TV...betray him...

They had been childhood friends... _best_ friends...all through middle school and then high school when they formed the band _The Nipples_ , and when Devon joined they had renamed the band _Erotic Corpses_. Their friendship had even continued on through college. They had best buds, BFFs.

But those assholes weren't even _sad_ that he was gone?! _What the fuck?_ _This is all I meant to them?_ Blake wondered.

Even the most sensitive of the group - Joey had yet to shed a tear over his death! Joey cried during _Titanic_ for God's sake! Blake thought exasperatedly. _He cried for days when his pet goldfish died!_

Vincent, he could understand not being so sad that Blake was gone. Blake always used to give Vincent such a hard time for his playboy ways - calling him a pervert and a man-whore. _But seriously though, Vincent used to go up to girls and ask them to 'please bear my child!'._ _But maybe I was a little too harsh?_ Blake wondered in retrospect.

And as for Devon...sure, they didn't get along all the time since Blake usually liked getting into trouble and Devon liked staying out of it. But Blake thought back to all the times he had spent practicing at Devon's side. The band would practice for hours and hours together. And Devon was the songwriter and composer of the band. He had written those songs for Blake to sing - with Blake's voice in mind, right?

Or had that all been false?

Did it actually matter if Blake sung Devon's songs? Or would anyone do?

Had Devon wanted to sing instead of play guitar all along? Had Devon wanted to be the lead singer of _Erotic Corpses_ and that's why he killed Blake? He was bitter that Blake had turned him from a jock into a rockstar _and_ took the limelight. Was this his revenge? Did Blake deserve this?

Blake clenched his fists at his sides as he tried to control himself.

***

"Wow, that's heavy. How do you think the zombies are going to react to this startling revelation? Will it change their opinion about _Erotic Corpses_ and your music?"

"I don't think whether or not Blake White was an incredible singer is in debate, but whether Blake White was a _genuine_ person. That's what fans will be questioning. But not his music...his voice...his legacy..." Devon said softly and everyone in the audience was leaning forward in their chairs to hear his every word.

Chelsea nodded. "Well said. I completely agree with you...and everyone is looking forward to seeing who the new singer of _Erotic Corpses_ is going to be! I want to thank you boys for coming today. You guys 'sex up' this stage with your pheromones! Hahahaha!"

"It was our pleasure, Chelsea. So what time should I pick you up tonight? Seven? Eight?" Vincent said in his sultry voice.

Chelsea laughed nervously, obviously flattered by Vincent's attentions. "Hahahahaha. Okay, Beiber Number Two - can it. Unless you want me to start stalking you!"

"I would be honored to have such a lovely stalker." Vincent said smoothly.

Chelsea began to fan herself with her hand comically. "Is it hot in here or is it just me? Unfortunately, that's all we have time for today...give a round of applause for: _Erotic Corpses_! They're here to stay, baby! Thank God!" Chelsea said as she wiped her brow of imaginary sweat.

The zombies and other spectators in the audience broke out in enthusiastic applause and cheers.

***

Ro was watching Blake closely out of the corner of her eye throughout the entire interview. She could really sympathize with Blake. What must it feel like to have people you were close to talk about you, and badmouth you as if you weren't there when you actually were! They were essentially talking behind his back.

Blake's best friends were acting so cool and blasé about Blake's suicide. They seemed unaffected, not sad, but angry? Disappointed? Ro tried to pinpoint the emotions they had been displaying. It wasn't a suicide but a murder! Blake didn't want to die! Ro wanted to shout this out to the band members of _Erotic Corpses_.

_It wasn't his fault!_ Ro felt her eyes prickling at Devon's cold words and saw Blake's eyes tearing up. This surprised her. Blake seemed so emotionally _tough_ \- like he didn't care about anything or anyone...

But as Blake's tears began to fall Ro knew that this was not true - that this was far from the truth. Blake did care and he was hurting...

And apparently ghosts cried glowing, green ectoplasm tears.

The green tears trailed down Blake's face and as they hit the air they disappeared as if they didn't exist.

_Oh, Blake._ Ro's heart went out to him \- the lonely rockstar ghost.

Blake's eyes burned with rage, hurt, humiliation, and anger. And then he finally snapped.

"Arghhhh!" Blake angrily charged at his ex-band mates.

"Blake no!" Ro gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth at her slipup.

Sadie looked at Ro suspiciously. "Did you just call out to Blake?"

"What? No...that's crazy...I was just mad by what Devon said...I don't think it's true about Blake. I think that he considered all of you his friends. I'm sure he cared about all of you - in his own way. I'm sure of it." Ro insisted emotionally.

Sadie raised an eyebrow at Ro. "Hmmm you think so? Blake and I may have had hot rockstar sex but...afterwards he wouldn't even snuggle. That jerk left me in bed all alone and acted so cold. I think he was heartless." Sadie complained.

But Ro had already tuned the female rockstar out. The medium held her breath and bit down on her bottom lip as Blake charged at Devon and punched him hard across the face.

But Blake's fist passed right through Devon's head.

Blake sent a roundhouse kick at Joey's head next, but again Blake's foot just passed right through the bass guitarist.

Blake sent his fist into Vincent's gut - no effect.

"Arghhh! I'll kill you! You fucking bastards! You did this to me, didn't you? You all look so happy now without me around! Is this what you all wanted? Did you all hate me so much? WELL, FUCK YOU!" Blake roared as he continued to beat the shit out of his band mates. Or at least, tried to.

Joey shivered as he felt a sudden chill crawl up his back and rubbed at his arms. Vincent frowned because he suddenly felt sick to the stomach and Devon's expression became closed and shuttered, his mouth forming a thin, grim line.

_Guilt, perhaps?_ Ro had to wonder at their strange reactions.

Watching Blake crying green ectoplasm tears as he 'beat up' his former band mates - made Ro's heart clench painfully within her chest. She wished she could take Blake's pain away...comfort him...

But she supposed she could help him by figuring out who his murderer was. And the very first people Ro would investigate would be Blake's own band mates.

Devon, Joey and Vincent walked off the stage and Sadie immediately attached herself to Devon's arm. The lead guitarist smirked at Sadie and they began to walk off.

Gripping his stomach, Vincent headed for the toilet...

Joey stopped next to Ro and gave her a weak smile. "Thanks to you we managed to look fashionable. We're going to need your help for our upcoming concert..."

Ro nodded. "Sadie mentioned I'd have to design costumes for all of you?"

"If you can?" Joey asked looking hopeful.

"I..." Ro looked around for Blake to help her with her response. But he was still on stage. Blake had fallen to his knees and had his head bowed. His bangs were hiding his current expression.

"Um, of course, I can design you all costumes for your concert. It'll be a piece of cake. I am a Pro Stylist after all." Ro exclaimed as enthusiastically as she could.

"Great, I'll let Manager Brody know. The theme of the concert is: war, military zombies, ghosts and the underworld."

Ro blinked. "Military zombies?" _This is bad! This is bad! What am I going to do? I dug myself into a hole...or should I say grave! I don't know how to design clothes! Someone help meeee!_

Joey nodded. "Since we'll be performing a lot of songs Blake used to sing as well as a new song that Blake and Devon worked on together...Manager Brody and Mr. Wraythe thought it would be a good theme. This concert will honor the legacy Blake left behind - his 'ghost', so to speak. He may not be with us in the flesh but he's with us in spirit." Joey said firmly. "At least, that's what I believe."

Ro gave Joey a surprised look. "You wish he was here, don't you?"

Joey looked startled for a moment. "Ah, I gotta go get packed up...I have your phone number and email, so I'll contact you about the costumes! Or I'll get Manager Brody to give you a call with more information about the job. See you!" Joey sped off at high speed.

_Well, that was weird. Joey is definitely hiding something. But what?_ Ro wondered. The medium looked back at Blake alone in the center of the stage with his head bowed, and green, glowing tears silently streaming down his face.

_Who killed Blake White?_ Ro asked herself, her own ice-blue eyes glistening. For the first time since she had encountered the ghost on Rodeo Drive she really wanted to know.

### Chapter 7: Death or Glory

While Ro was seated at the kitchen island Blake peered over her shoulder curiously to see what the gloomy girl was up to. He spotted a pad of paper in front of Ro that she had already jotted a few words and phrases down on: military zombies, war, ghosts, death, underworld.

Ro knew she had to design the costumes for _Erotic Corpses_ ' next concert, but she didn't even know where to begin. Ro drew a stick figure and put a top hat on it to start.

"Who the hell is that supposed to be?" Blake drawled before he burst out laughing. He gripped his sides as they began to ache and wiped the ectoplasm tears from his eyes. _You learn something new everyday. Ro Ripper can't draw worth a shit!_ "You suck at drawing, beggar girl."

Ro blushed. "Well, excuse me, Mr. Rockstar Ghost, but I'm doing this for _you_. Who was it that wanted _me_ to pretend to be a stylist? Gah!" Ro threw her hands up into the air out of frustration. "This sucks..."

Blake tried to calm himself down and finally stopped laughing. "Just call the bitch witch to come and help you. She seems good at this sort of thing." Blake suggested.

Ro frowned and stuck her tongue out at Blake. "Don't call Carrie a bitch!" But Ro relented and pulled out her new Samsung Galaxy S4 smart phone and called Carrie. Ro quickly explained the situation to the witch, who said she'd be right over.

Thirty minutes later, Carrie arrived with a canvas bag full of art supplies. "Hey, Ro. Hey bastard ghost, what's up?" She greeted casually as she glided into the house.

"I really hate her..." Blake groused.

"Hey Carrie." Ro greeted her with a smile.

Carrie joined the medium and ghost at the kitchen island. The Goth took out several pads of paper, pencils and an array of colored pencils. "So, explain to me what the 'theme' of the concert is again?"

Ro took a deep breath and tried to remember everything that Manager Brody had told her over the phone earlier that morning. "Well, Manager Brody told me that the new song that Devon is going to sing is an anti-war punk rock song. The choreography of the concert will start out with the band dancing up on stage while dressed in military uniforms. They will fight 'enemies' up on stage with fake AK-47s. Then the band will get shot, and dramatically fall to the stage. However, they will stand back up a few moments later, coming back to life to dance. Then _Erotic Corpses_ will grab their instruments and start to perform. Devon will sing the new song while playing lead guitar, Joey will be on bass guitar, and Vincent will play the drums as usual. The band will be performing songs that they have originally performed with Blake. This concert is about Blake's legacy. The overall themes are: military zombies, war ghosts, death and the underworld." Ro explained to the best of her ability.

"Military uniforms? No, _hot_ military uniforms." Carrie began doing some rough sketches of military uniforms that the band could wear. "I'll make them more 'modern' and sexier...a little tighter...add more leather...add some metal spikes to their combat boots and belts. Each band member will have a different colored camo uniform. Devon will wear a dark blue, black and white camo. Joey will wear a tan, brown and white camo. And Vincent will wear a red, white and gray camo. The uniforms will need to be torn in places to give them a 'back from the grave' effect. The boys will also need to be wearing zombie makeup."

"Zombie makeup?" Ro asked curiously.

Carrie gave the girl a disbelieving look. "Haven't you watched _Dawn of the Dead_ , _Resident Evil_ or _Zombieland_?" Carrie asked expectantly. The witch was secretly a zombie fan. She loved books, movies and video games that featured zombies.

Ro shook her head and looked embarrassed. She hadn't been able to afford cable and didn't really have enough money to go to the movies or even rent a video, so she was a little clueless when it came to pop culture.

"You've been living under a rock, girl..." Carrie shook her head at the sheltered girl. "Zombie makeup makes you look 'dead' or I should say like the 'living dead'. Black painted eye sockets, or red painted eye sockets are a must. Black or blue painted lips is standard. You can also paint wide grins on the face to resemble a grinning mouth of jagged teeth and make it look like parts of your face have rotted away using makeup."

"Ah," Ro said, shuddering at the visual image in her mind.

"Our fans - fans of _Erotic Corpses_ \- call themselves 'zombies' and usually come to our - er, _Erotic Corpses_ ' concerts dressed like zombies. It's pretty wild." Blake informed Ro stumbling over his words.

Ro noticed that Blake seemed to have having a hard time separating himself from the band mentally, but she wisely didn't say anything about it. The medium told Carrie what Blake had just said.

Carrie nodded. "Lady Gaga has her 'monsters' and you guys have 'zombies'. You guys all have 'nicknames' that your fans have given you guys too, right?"

"Yea...I was 'The White Ghost'. Ironic, I know. Devon Decayn's been dubbed 'The Angel of Death', Joey Bones has been nicknamed 'The Dancing Skeleton' and Vincent Sangre is 'The Vampire Prince'." Blake explained.

Ro repeated Blake's words.

Carrie tapped her chin in thought. "Military soldiers...resurrected as zombies. An anti-war theme. An Angel of Death. A Dancing Skeleton. A Vampire Prince. I think I've got it! After the guys come back to life and stand up on stage they can rip off their military uniforms to reveal their _true_ costumes!" Carrie declared and began sketching the band's new costumes at a newly energized, rapid pace.

Blake and Ro peered over Carrie's shoulder curiously and watched her work. The witch was an incredible artist and soon Devon, Joey and Vincent were coming to life upon the page dressed in some seriously awesome outfits. It took Carrie a few hours to complete the costume sketches before she held them up to Blake and Ro. "This is what Devon Decayn is going to wear." She flipped to the next page on her sketchpad. "This is what Joey Bones is going to wear." She flipped the page on the pad again. "And this is what Vincent Sangre is going to wear."

Ro 'Ooed' and 'Ahhed' while Blake tried not to look impressed even if Carrie couldn't see his expression...

"And last but not least is what _you_ will be wearing to the concert, Ro." Carrie revealed her final drawing and showed Ro a zombie inspired dress.

Ro blinked and pointed at herself. "Me? But I'm not a part of the band..."

"You are the band's stylist so you need to look as good as they do. Your appearance reflects upon them." Carrie argued with a gleam in her eye.

Ro looked at the outfit skeptically. She was going to look ridiculous in that!

Ro's curious black cats were playing around with Carrie's art supplies and Blake cringed as he watched Lucky knock off a container of colored ink which opened up on the carpet and spilled all over the place. Spottie had managed to get a paint palate open and the cats had accidentally stepped all over it painting the pads of their paws with different colored paint. When Ro shooed them off the kitchen island the cats ran off leaving a series of multi-colored paw prints in their wake!

"I hate cats." Blake groused.

Now that the costumes had been successfully designed all Carrie needed was the right materials and she could begin sewing them. Well, as soon as she got her hands on a sewing machine and the band's measurements, she mused. "I need the boys' measurements. We should invite them here so I can take them." The Goth said a little too enthusiastically.

Ro looked nervous. "But I don't know how to take someone's measurements..."

"You won't need to. I know the measurements of my band mates, er, former band mates by heart." Blake informed Ro blandly.

Ro told Carrie this and the Goth nodded though she looked a little put out. "That makes this pretty easy then. Ro and I will go to the material store and get the materials I need. I also need a sewing machine though..."

Blake snorted. "Tell Carrie she can buy whatever she wants with my emergency cash. I don't think my credit cards will work anymore since I'm dead." Blake shrugged. "They've probably been canceled..." Blake wondered aloud.

Ro quickly repeated Blake's words.

"Emergency money?" Carrie repeated. "Credit cards? Hey Blake...who did you leave everything to? Your band mates?"

Blake shook his head. "I left everything to the owner of Wraythe Records - Mr. William Wraythe. He was my father's best friend and after my parents were killed Mr. Wraythe took care of me. He was like a father to me. Mr. Wraythe is a great man. He was helping me to investigate my parents' murder. He even paid for my martial arts classes with Yoshida- _sensei_ so I could get strong enough to fight my parents' murderer once I found him or her."

Ro repeated Blake's words.

"Ah, Mr. Wraythe. He's on our list." Carrie reminded the ghost and the medium.

"He's not on _my_ list, witch bitch." Blake scowled.

Ro looked back and forth between Blake and Carrie nervously. Even though Carrie couldn't see Blake she somehow managed to send a lot of negative energy his way with a glare. The ghost followed suit and was glaring back at the witch heatedly.

"I say we try out your credit cards online. It's worth a shot anyway." Carrie suggested suddenly defusing the negative energies in the room.

Blake shrugged noncommitedly. "Whatever floats your boat. The credit cards are in my desk drawer."

Ro told Carrie where Blake's credit cards were.

"Thank you." Carrie said in a singsong voice as she fetched Blake's several credit cards. He had a Kiss Platinum VISA and even one of the new VISA Black Cards. Carrie opened her laptop and connected to the hotel's WiFi. She went to an online material store, added a few things to her cart and proceeded to checkout. She typed in Blake's credit card number and processed it. And it went through! "Blake's credit cards have not been canceled." Carrie happily informed the gloomy girl and rockstar ghost.

"Um, is that really wise...to use Blake's credit card like that...what if Blake's murderer tracks it to us." Ro said as she chewed on her lower lip.

"That's the idea." Both Carrie and Blake said at the same time.

Ro's jaw dropped. "Eh? You guys...are using me as bait?!"

"Shut it, beggar girl. That's all you're good for. Besides, once my murderer shows up I'll possess your body and kick his ass!" Blake said as he punched his left palm with his right fist.

Ro felt faint. She really didn't like the idea of Blake using her body for his revenge!

During the next twenty minutes, Carrie went on an online shopping spree. Afterwards, she had Ro drive her to a material store in Blake's Maserati to get some things that she couldn't find online. The Goth purchased the extra materials and accessories she needed to complete the band's special costumes with great enthusiasm. Ro gave Carrie a curious look since the Goth really seemed to be enjoying this job even though she'd been forced into it.

When Carrie and Ro arrived back at Blake's penthouse, the witch used Blake's credit card to order some Chinese food. Ro had never had Chinese food before or 'fast food' for that matter, and enjoyed it immensely. (So did Ro's cats that kept on stealing food periodically throughout the meal). "Chinese food...so this is what fast food taste like." Ro said to herself with a tiny smile.

"You're so lame." Blake shook his head at the gloomy girl.

As the trio waited for the sewing machine and materials to arrive, Carrie decided to use Pay-Per-View to buy some movies that she could watch with Rosalie. A mischievous look came to her eyes. "I just realized that we're in a hotel. Which means...there's room service!" Carrie picked up the phone and began to dial the front desk.

Ro suddenly latched herself onto Carrie's arm, panicked and afraid. "Ah, Carrie, you can't order room service! I'm not even supposed to be staying here! Blake is dead!"

Carrie put the phone back down and frowned. "Even though I can't see him...I keep forgetting that he's...dead. Sorry. Who's paying for this penthouse suite then, by the way?"

Ro shrugged. "I am? Though I haven't received the rent bill yet..."

"Strange...and suspicious. This place should have been rented out to someone else by now, or turned back into a normal hotel suite. And Blake's belongings haven't been touched. Do you think his murderer decided to keep this place as a memento?" Carrie suggested morbidly.

"That sick bastard..." Blake growled.

Ro paled. "His murderer?! Then...he or she could show up here at any time?"

"That's perfect. I'll kick his ass!" Blake declared cracking his knuckles, his lavender eyes flashing. "And Ro I really doubt a girl could have killed the almighty _me_."

Ro stumbled backwards in a near swoon at the idea of the murderer just popping up at the penthouse. But then, Ro's cell phone rang playing her current ring tone: _Gangnam Style_. Ro picked up her cell and saw that the incoming call was from Joey. "Quiet everyone, it's Joey." Ro said before swiping the green phone out of the circle and answering the call. "Hello?"

" _Hey, Ro, what's up? How are you?_ " Came Joey's upbeat voice over the phone.

"Hi Joey, I'm good. Thank you." A soft smile formed on Ro's face as she talked to the vibrant and kind young man. Joey always seemed to be able to brighten her day.

" _How is the costume designing coming along?_ "

"The costumes have been designed. I just need to sew them."

" _Huh? That fast! Don't you need to take our measurements first?_ "

"I already have your measurements..." Ro said absentmindedly.

"Idiot!" Blake shouted at her.

" _Huh? How?_ " Joey asked sounding confused.

_Oh crap!_ Ro thought.

"Tell him that the band's Internet fans have posted the band's measurements online...and that you're a fan too and so you knew because of that." Blake suggested on the fly.

"Your fans have posted your measurements up on the net. I'm _Erotic Corpses_ ' fan and so I knew about the fan site." Ro said to Joey.

" _Oh, that makes sense. So you're already sewing the costumes?_ "

"Not yet...I'm waiting for a sewing machine and some other materials to arrive FedEx." The medium explained.

" _Oh, in that case. Why don't you come down to Wraythe Records and to our practice studio so you can hear us rehearse the new song? I'd really like you to hear it and get your opinion, Ro._ "

"I, er, sure...give me the address." Ro choked up, not knowing what she should say. Ro grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, and wrote down the location of Wraythe Records. "I'll be there soon...yea, okay. See you. Bye." Ro ended the call with a tap of her finger.

Both Carrie and Blake were giving Ro expectant looks.

The medium looked at them nervously. "Um...Joey invited me to go to Wraythe Records so I could listen to them practice the new song and I said 'yes'."

Blake nodded, kind of impressed by Ro's quick thinking. "Perfect...you need to get close to the band in order to investigate them...let's go!" Blake began to float towards the door.

"Hey...can I go?" Carrie suddenly asked. She was also a fan of _Erotic Corpses_ ...and secretly a huge fan of Vincent Sangre. He was totally her type. Even though she knew he was a total playboy.

"Sure," Ro said instantly.

"No way," Blake said at the same time.

Ro turned to Blake with a questioning look on her face. "Why not? It's just practice...and having a second set of eyes could be useful. We are on a spy mission after all."

Blake frowned at the Wicca witch. "I don't trust her...tell her she can go as long as she doesn't throw herself at the band." Blake crossed his arms over his marble-white chest and gave Carrie a skeptical look.

"Er, you can go, but..." Ro bit her lip and mumbled the rest in a small voice. "But you can't throw yourself at the band members."

"Huh? That dick! Just what kind of a girl does he think I am? I'm going to send his spirit straight to hell!" Carrie exclaimed and pulled her silver pentagram necklace out from her ample cleavage and began to utter a spell.

"The same as any other girl - a slut." Blake declared with a smug look on his face.

Ro wisely didn't tell Carrie what Blake had just said and gabbed the witch's arm while trying to stop her from cursing Blake to hell! "Carrie! Stop! Just ignore him...come on, let's go to Wraythe Records." Ro pleaded, making her ice-blue eyes look large and puppy-dog like.

Carrie let out a defeated sigh and tucked her pentagram back into her cleavage. "You're right...I won't let the bastard ghost rain on my parade. I'm going to get to meet Erotic Corpses - in person!" _Teehee._ Carrie inwardly giggled to herself as she thought about getting to meet Vincent Sangre in person.

"Did you just go 'teehee'?" Ro asked raising her eyebrow at her Goth friend.

"Yes. What? No." Carrie quickly amended giving Ro a strange look. Had the girl just read her mind?

In Blake's shining, silver Maserati, Ro drove Carrie and Blake to Wraythe Records. Ro tried hard not to laugh the entire time since the stubborn Blake would not sit in the back and so the ghost was sitting on Carrie's lap without her knowing about it. As Ro snorted and her face turned red from trying so hard not to laugh Carrie kept shooting the strange girl questioning looks.

As soon as Blake caught sight of Wraythe Records he pointed the building out to the girls. The building was cylindrical, tower-shaped, very modern, and several stories tall. It had blue-tinged glass windows and steel accents. At the very top of the tower the name of the record company sat proudly in huge metal letters: ' _WRAYTHE RECORDS_ '. Ro drove into the building's underground parking lot and parked Blake's Maserati in a free spot. The group then exited the garage and made their way back to the front of the tower.

As Ro and Carrie approached the front entrance a security guard stepped in their path. "Identification?"

"Uh, um," Ro fished out her new fake driver's license and handed it to the security guard. "I'm Ro Ripper - _Erotic Corpses_ ' new stylist. And this is my...um..."

"Say Carrie is your assistant. His job is to keep crazy fan girls out of the building and that means you, witch bitch." Blake sneered at the Goth girl.

"My assistant Miss Carrie Ashmore."

"Ah, Miss Ripper, I've been expecting you," the security guard handed Ro back her ID. "Here is your company employee ID badge...that way you won't be stopped again. Have a nice day, Miss Ripper."

Ro took her new clip-on ID badge. "Thank you..." And looked down at it. It read:

RO RIPPER

STYLIST * EROTIC CORPSES

WRAYTHE RECORDS EMPLOYEE

Ro had mixed feelings about her new ID badge. She had a job now...she wasn't an unemployed loser/homeless beggar girl anymore, but...a stylist? She was no stylist. She didn't know what the hell she was doing. Stylist...that was a lie. Carrie was the _real_ stylist. Ro was a fake! The medium felt like gripping the sides of her face with her hands in despair - she impressively resisted this urge since several people were watching her curiously.

Ro clipped the ID badge to her shirt and entered further into the building with Carrie at her side, and Blake floating behind. She easily got past the other security guards using her new ID and made her way to the front desk where a punky female receptionist was seated. She had black and orange highlighted hair and braids on either side of her face. The braids had been artfully done with alternating orange and black chunks of hair. She was wearing a low-cut, black shirt with a black spiked choker, and a pair of tight pants and boots. Her lips had been painted in a bright orange color.

"Um, hello, I'm Ro Ripper, _Erotic Corpses_ ' new stylist. I'm supposed to meet up with them at their studio..." Ro explained.

The girl looked up from painting her nails black with orange stripes. "Ah, yes, Miss Ripper, we've been expecting you. Go to the 10th floor. Their studio is in room 1001. Good luck, gal." The receptionist said with a quirky smile.

Ro smiled back at the girl. "Thanks."

"You're going to need it," the receptionist muttered darkly to herself.

Ro and Carrie made their way over to the elevator with Blake following behind them. Carrie pressed the button to summon the elevator and the elevator arrived a few seconds later. The trio entered the elevator and Carrie pressed the button for the 10th floor. A song from the heavy metal band _The Necromancers_ was playing as elevator music bringing a scowl to Blake's handsome face.

"Ah, this is from _The Necromancers_ ," Carrie noted.

"Those fucking posers...they don't know what _real_ rock music is about..." Blake grit his teeth.

Ro repeated Blake's complaints to Carrie.

"Hmmm someone sounds jealous." Carrie teased the ghost. " _The Necromancers_ are also murder suspects. Your rivals may have killed you off. They _have_ gotten more popular lately. Everyone's been worried _Erotic Corpses_ ' is going to break up since your death."

"Bastards...taking advantage of my absence. _Erotic Corpses_ will never die! Those guys will continue on..." Blake found himself saying absentmindedly.

Ro told Carrie what the ghost had just said.

Carrie's expression shifted to surprise. "It sounds like you hold great respect for your former band mates. But aren't they the prime murder suspects though?" Carrie asked pointedly.

Blake let out an irritated snort.

"Whether or not they have talent is not in question. Those guys are true rockstars...but as for them being the assholes who killed me...that I don't know." Blake shook his head in a helpless manner.

Ro bit her lower lip. She couldn't get the image of Blake punching and kicking his former band mates, and then sinking to his knees and crying on stage, out of her mind. As much as Blake liked to try and hide it - he cared about his band mates. She really hoped that they didn't turn out being Blake's murderers. For Blake's sake...

The elevator door opened and the trio stepped out into a long, brightly lit hallway. The group made their way down the hall and to room 1001. Ro knocked upon the door.

"Come on in," Came Manager Brody's easygoing voice.

Ro opened the door and stepped inside of the practice room. Carrie followed and Blake floated in behind the two girls.

There in front of them was - _Erotic Corpses_. Vincent Sangre was seated behind a set of drums going wild, head banging, hands moving like lightning as he attacked the drums and cymbals at top speed, his long, red hair swishing back and forth.

Devon Decayn was jamming on his electric guitar passionately. His fingers were moving up and down the fret board in a skillful manner unaffected by the complicated riffs.

Joey Bones was strumming wildly at his bass guitar as they went through the opening instrumental of the new song. He made his guitar sing in such a manner that his playing reflected his outgoing personality.

A microphone had been set up, but no one was standing near it - yet.

The practice room was spacious, stylishly decorated with rock-themed posters on the walls, and an expensive espresso machine could be seen sitting on a nearby table off to the right hand side. Black beanbag chairs were strewn here and there in the room. Extra instruments sat on racks and hung on the walls. Sadie Skellington was seated on a comfy blue sofa off to the right side with her chin in hand, and a lustful expression on her face as she watched Devon perform. A smoking cigarette dangled between Sadie's lips.

Manager Brody put a finger to his lips and smiled at Ro in a friendly manner. Manager Brody was dressed in his usual Hawaiian shirt (an orange and red one this time), board shorts and flip-flops. Ro nodded and silently made her way over to the sofa. Sadie spotted Ro, grinned, and waved her over. The medium smiled back and took a seat next to Sadie while Carrie took a seat next to Ro.

Sadie looked past Ro at Carrie curiously. "I don't believe you've introduced me to your friend, Ro."

"Ah, I'm sorry, this is my friend Carrie Ashmore. She's my assistant." Ro quickly explained.

"Is that so?" Sadie said absentmindedly as she leaned over Ro to get a better look at the Goth witch. Carrie's face was painted white, her eyes lined in black and her lips had also been painted in black for a traditional Goth makeup look. Carrie was wearing a medieval black and purple velvet gown that had the pattern of thorns and roses on it. The witch's violet colored hair was hanging loose around her shoulders in waves and Carrie's pentagram necklace gleamed right at her ample cleavage. Sadie stared at Carrie's large breasts enviously for a moment before she turned her head away with a 'hmph!'. The female rockstar chewed on her cigarette angrily.

Joey noticed Ro's presence and a grin broke out across his face. He waved enthusiastically at her as he checked out what she was wearing. Ro was wearing a dark blue, lace-up corset, tight black leather pants, and a pair of lace-up knee boots. She had a black choker around her neck that a tiny silver charm was dangling from. The charm was a skull with wings on it.

Ro blushed. Joey played his guitar skillfully while keeping Ro's eye contact as if he were playing just for her. Ro's blush deepened. Just what was Joey doing?

Vincent noticed Ro too and then noticed the medium's friend. He lowered his round yellow sunglasses to get a better look at the mysterious, alluring young woman with a curvaceous figure dressed in a medieval gown. _Yowzers._

Devon was the only one who seemed to continue to be in his own world as he played his guitar. Blake respected that. Music was number one and women were number two. Devon approached the microphone, opened his mouth, and began to sing. Blake watched and listened intently to Devon's performance. Blake's eyes widened since it turned out that Devon was actually really good. His voice had a good range and he kept in key. _Pfft._ Not that Blake was really surprised. Devon seemed to be good at whatever he set his mind to. He was a prodigy - sports, music, art \- he'd be the best at whatever he decided to do. He was Devon Decayn.

Blake's best friend... _ex_ -best friend...the ghost smiled sadly.

This anti-war song was something that they had actually worked on together. Blake had actually written a few of the lines that Devon was now singing, and the ghost had given Devon a few concepts to work with as well. They had planned for Blake to sing this song because Blake felt strongly about the themes in the song.

War...it's just a bunch of old men sending young boys to go and blow each other up. Life is so short...I've learned that the hard way. To go and kill people you don't even know and who have never done anything to you personally, I think that's pretty fucked up. Now, people that hurt my friends or family are another story. Those motherfuckers deserve to die.

Under different circumstances, I'm sure those people who are fighting each other could have been friends. The people soldiers are forced to kill have friends, families and lovers of their own. Some consider this to be a non-patriotic view but...fuck that. I love America and my country but...what are those soldiers really fighting for? War has become a business.

The song really spoke out for his soul.

And now Devon was singing it...his soul song...

Blake didn't know what to think or feel about this.

He was hurt but...Devon was doing a really good job with the song. After a few more minutes of listening, Blake finally nodded.

This was...okay. He preferred Devon to sing _their_ song than some stranger. It was his song, but he was dead.

"You fucking bastard...you have a lot of nerve singing my song." Blake grumbled as he floated right up to Devon and glared at him right in the eyes. "You better not fuck it up. I'm expecting you to do a phenomenal job at the concert, you bastard!"

Ro was also watching Devon sing Blake's song closely. Was it her imagination or did Devon look like he was in pain...that he was suffering? No one else seemed to notice though, and the themes in the song _were_ very strong and emotional.

To Ro's keen ears it sounded like Devon was crying. Crying on the inside. Ro was sure of it. Devon was in pain. _Poor Devon._ Ro's eyes began to tear up in sympathy.

As the song came to a close and the final note left Devon's mouth, he looked up and met Ro's sad gaze. Their eyes locked and it was _intense_.

Sadie noticed this moment that Ro and Devon were suddenly sharing and frowned. She nearly bit her cigarette in half. Joey also noticed that Ro and Devon seemed to be staring at each other longer than was appropriate or normal, and his expression fell.

Carrie sensed the dark mood in the room and decided to change it. "Whee! Yea!" Carrie clapped and cheered loudly. She put her fingers in her mouth and whistled. "That was great!"

This seemed to break the spell and Devon looked away from Ro, breaking their connection.

Ro was feeling in her heart that it must have been hard for Devon to sing about killing and Death when both were so close to the band.

Sadie immediately got up, went over to Devon to grab his arm, and gushed about what a good singer he was. "Devon you sexy beast, you were so awesome. You're such a good singer. Your voice is so deep and sexy. It totally made me wet."

"Is that so?" Devon drawled not really paying attention to Sadie and seeming to be a bit distracted by his own thoughts.

Sadie reached up and used her hand to turn Devon's face to look at her face. "Yes...it made me _very_ wet." She purred in a husky voice as she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed Devon hungrily.

Devon leaned into the kiss and soon the rockstar couple was fervidly making out and groping each other's bodies.

Ro and Carrie stood up and the girls began to head over to Joey who was beckoning for them to come closer. "Hey Ro - how'd I do?" Joey asked sheepishly.

Ro smiled and nodded. "Very good. I liked it."

Joey looked at Carrie curiously. "So, aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?"

"Ah, um, this is Carrie," Ro fumbled with the introduction. "She's my assistant."

Carrie stepped forward and offered Joey her hand. "It's a real pleasure to meet all of you...I'm a huge fan." The Goth girl admitted with a grin.

Joey took Carrie's hand and shook it. As soon as he let go, however, Vincent had swooped in and had taken Carrie's hand. "The pleasure is all mine, my lady." Vincent leaned over and placed a kiss on the top of Carrie's hand.

Carrie instantly snatched her hand back and gave Vincent a guarded look. "Well, if it isn't Vincent Sangre. The playboy drummer of _Erotic Corpses_. You're even more handsome in person...I can see where the rumors of you being a vampire come from." The witch's voice was strangely harsh.

Vincent raised an eyebrow at the fiery young woman. "I'll take that as a compliment...I think."

"Idiot." Carrie smiled at Vincent viciously then.

Vincent blinked back at Carrie in surprise, but was soon smirking in amusement. _Fiesty, I like that._

With Sadie still clinging to his arm, Devon addressed Ro. "Ro, how are our costumes coming along? Don't you need to take our measurements?"

"Ah, we're-" Carrie began and then bit her bottom lip to silence herself.

"Good..." Ro quickly interrupted her friend. "I'm just waiting for the sewing machine I ordered to arrive and then I can begin sewing the costumes." The medium explained while trying not to look at Sadie who was placing kisses all up and down Devon's neck.

Devon gave Ro a piercing look. "Don't you need our measurements?"

"Ah-" Ro started.

"She got them off the net! Our hardcore fans are scary!" Joey joked. "We don't call them zombies for nothing, I guess."

Sadie rolled her eyes at Joey. " _Lame_." She said in a singsong voice in reference to Joey's pathetic attempt to make a joke.

The bass guitarist pouted.

"The net...I see..." Devon said stroking his chin. At this point Sadie had begun to nibble at Devon's neck while trying to leave a hickey. Devon let out a groan subconsciously.

"So, Ro, how did you like our new song?" Joey asked while trying hard not to stare at Devon and Sadie's PDA.

"I...it was very...sad." Ro managed to get out and looked over at Devon.

Devon gave Ro a surprised look before he turned his head away. He couldn't meet Ro Ripper's eyes - they seemed to be able to see right through him. He shuddered when Sadie drew blood and then licked his bruised skin as if to soothe it.

"That's only to be expected since the song is about war...which only brings _death_. And death is not a _happy_ thing." Vincent said in his silky voice.

"Yea..." Ro agreed softly.

"But through his songs Blake White has found immortality. He will always live on in spirit with his songs. It is the footprint he has left behind on this Earth." Carrie blurted out, strategically. "Don't you think so?"

Devon cringed and unhooked himself from Sadie. "I need to go take a piss." Was all he said as he stomped out of the room.

Vincent and Joey both exchanged worried looks and remained silent.

Sadie was pouting as she made her way back over to the couch. She plopped herself down on top of it, lit herself another cigarette, took a drag, and put her feet up, stretching out like a cat and taking up the entire sofa in a sexy pose - everyone could see her black lacy underwear as her short skirt rode up her thighs.

The atmosphere was suddenly tense. As if Carrie had just dropped a bomb.

Ro hated to admit it but the band was acting...strange. Guilty, perhaps? Could they have really killed Blake? Ro felt the blood draining from her face at the thought. These people in front of her were so beautiful - dressed in expensive, designer clothes, with stylish, edgy haircuts, wearing brand name makeup, but their insides...what were these people truly like? Behind their glamorous celebrity masks? Were they all cold-blooded murderers?

Ro found herself unconsciously taking a step back from the people in the room and heading for the door. "Well, I really should be going...I need to get started on those costumes. I guess, I'll see you boys on the day of the concert, on Saturday. I'll probably go to the concert venue a few hours early just to make sure the costumes fit you all perfectly in case I need to make any last minute adjustments."

"Yea, that sounds good, Ro. We still have a lot of practicing to do. Thanks for stopping by...it was nice meeting you, Carrie. Don't be a stranger, Ro." Joey said absentmindedly.

Vincent approached Carrie and handed her a backstage pass. "I'll expect to see you at the concert, my lady."

"Pfft." Carrie looked down at the backstage pass and snorted. "I'll have to check my busy schedule and see if I can make it."

"I see, well, I do hope you can attend." Vincent said in that low, smooth, black velvet voice of his.

Carrie blushed, huffed, and grabbed Ro's arm and began to drag her out of the practice room. "Let's go Ro, before we get bitten or something!"

Vincent's amused, throaty chuckle followed them out of the practice room.

As Ro, Carrie, and Blake made their way down the hall and towards the elevators, they passed by the bathrooms. The girls could hear someone throwing up inside of the men's bathroom and they cringed, feeling sorry for whoever it was.

"That's why you shouldn't drink until you pass out," Blake snorted, having no mercy for whatever idiot was throwing up in the bathroom in the middle of the afternoon.

Ro couldn't help but feel that wasn't the case with whoever was in the bathroom. But she didn't dare refute what Blake had said.

Ro drove Carrie and Blake back to Chateau Marmont Hotel. Carrie retrieved her bike from the garage and headed home while Ro and Blake turned in for the night. The next day, the sewing machine and other materials arrived via FedEx. Ro gave Carrie a call as soon as she received everything and the Goth was there in less than half an hour to begin sewing the costumes. The medium offered to help and Carrie agreed. She gave Ro very strict instructions to complete certain tasks like sewing on buttons.

Blake felt the need to supervise what was going on and did what he did best: boss people around.

Ro translated only about half of the smartass orders Blake was giving to Carrie. After all she wanted to stay alive and the Goth witch was on edge enough already with trying to finish the costumes on time.

The doorbell rang and Ro headed over to answer the door, figuring it was more material or accessories for the band being delivered. The medium opened the door without even checking to see who it was in the tiny monitor next to the door, and there was a FedEx guy standing next to a gigantic box.

He handed Ro the clipboard. "Sign here, please." He grunted, in a bored tone.

Ro quickly faked Blake's signature and dragged the box inside. "Hey, Carrie, what else did you order?"

"Oh, _it_ arrived." Carrie rubbed her hands together excitedly and a cat's paw smile formed on her face. "Open it and find out."

Ro fetched a box cutter from the kitchen and opened the box to reveal a cat tower and scratching post. Ro gasped and Blake looked over her shoulder curiously. "Hey, what is _that_?" Blake looked at the cat tower and his eye twitched. "Oi...would you ladies mind explaining what the hell _that_ is? Where is that supposed to go exactly? You can't actually be planning to have that tacky eyesore in my penthouse, can you?"

"Um..." Ro gave Carrie a questioning and nervous look.

Carrie was looking quite pleased with herself. " _That_ is Count Catula's Grand Castle Giant Cat Scratching Post!" Carrie waved her hand at the item dramatically. The cat tower had a little fuzzy ladder and poles that that cats could climb to the next level where there was a castle tower with circular holes in it that the cats could go inside. The cats could also climb up the fuzzy turrets. "Isn't it totally awesome?"

"Who said you girls could waste my hard-earned money on shit like that?! I hate cats!" Blake complained.

"I'm sorry..." Ro murmured.

Ro repeated Blake's harsh words with her head hanging down dejectedly. "Don't be sorry, Rosalie. You're helping that bastard ghost out a lot. The least he can do is buy you a little something for your cats since you don't seem to buy yourself anything." Carrie insisted.

Ro looked embarrassed. "I don't need anything..."

Carrie gave Ro a skeptical look. "We girls _always_ need _something_ in order to look our best. New makeup, new clothes, a trip to the salon..."

"Girls are a whole lot of trouble. More trouble than they're worth. Very high maintenance." Blake was nodding to himself. Blake White only cared about Blake White. That's how it had always been, and that's how it would always be.

Ro and Carrie both heaved the cat tower out of the box and began to set it up. Lucky, Spottie, Dulce, Luna and Percy - being the curious creatures that they were instantly went over to inspect it and in minutes the black cats were climbing all over the tower and putting the scratching posts to good use.

Blake frowned at those cats - his new worst enemies. They had been using his expensive Fritz Hansen sofa as a scratching post, not to mention his Persian carpets as their litter boxes!

But the grumpy ghost couldn't complain because he needed Ro's help. She was vital to his revenge. And Blake's revenge was all that mattered to him.

Blake scowled as he watched the cats play on the scratching post that was shaped like a castle. _Those damned cats seem to love that stupid thing...maybe we should build them one of those cat runs? I did not just think that! I did not just think that!_ Blake gripped his head with his two hands in horror.

After setting aside the distraction of the new cat tower, the girls finally set to work on the costumes again. Ro helped to cut the material using patterns Carrie had drawn and the witch began to sew the military uniforms together with the new sewing machine. Several hours and a lot of hard work later the girls were done and packed up the costumes into a large suitcase.

Carrie wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. "Well, there you go, Miss Stylist. Your costumes have been completed. I'm sure the boys will be impressed by your mad skills." The Goth pouted to herself. She was happy to help Ro but couldn't help but feel a tad disappointed that all the credit for her hard work would be going to someone else.

"Yea..." Ro agreed, feeling guilty. Carrie had worked so hard on the costumes and Ro was the one who would be getting all of the credit. It wasn't fair. "Blake...I need to speak with you. Alone." Ro said to Blake and motioned for him to follow her to his bedroom.

Blake shrugged and floated after Ro, irked. "What's up, beggar girl?" He asked as soon as he entered his bedroom.

Ro took a deep breath. "It's about Carrie...I just don't feel right about all this. She's the one who made those beautiful costumes - not me. And I'm going to take credit for it. It's a lie...I think Carrie should be _Erotic Corpses_ ' stylist. Not me."

"I agree. But...this isn't about that. This is about who is better suited to help me with my revenge and that's you, Ro." Blake gave Ro an intense look. "I don't trust Carrie for that, but...you're right. She really did outdo herself with those costumes." Blake stroked his chin for a moment. "Tell Carrie that she can go to the concert too as your assistant. That way she can participate in dressing the band and get to see the concert. But tell her not to get in the way of any instructions I give you. Don't forget, we're supposed to be investigating my ex-band mates. You need to get close to them in order to do that, got it?" Blake said sternly.

Ro gave the ghost a surprised and grateful look. "Ah, thank you!" The medium reached out to hug Blake and passed right through him and fell face first to the floor.

BAM. Blake laughed at her. "Idiot!"

"What was that?" Carrie walked over through the bedroom door to see Ro on the floor - face first. Carrie shook her head at the strange girl. "I don't want to know...so...I guess I'll be going since you guys don't need me anymore." The witch said in a dejected tone as she turned around to leave.

"Ah, Carrie, wait!" Ro quickly got to her feet and told Carrie what the ghost had said.

Carrie looked about as surprised as Ro had. "He said that..." She smirked. "Well, at least it seems he can recognize talent. I guess, I'll be coming with you guys then to _Erotic Corpses_ ' concert!"

"Yea!" Ro agreed happily.

Blake glared at the two excitable girls. "This isn't for fun, bitches. This is for revenge. Please keep that in mind. Those assholes...might be the ones who killed me." Blake reminded them harshly with a snarl.

Ro pouted.

"Killjoy..." Carrie said.

Saturday November 15 - the day of _Erotic Corpses_ ' concert had arrived. The band was scheduled to perfrom at the Great American Music Hall at 9:00 PM that night. As soon as Ro was ready she called Carrie so that she could come over to the penthouse and bum a ride with her to the concert hall. Ro ended up driving Carrie, Blake and the costumes to the Great American Music Hall in Blake's fancy Maserati. Ro pulled right in front of the building, got out of the car, and tossed the keys to a waiting valet.

Carrie let out a whistle as she looked at the two-story, red and black brick building. It had an old-fashioned red and white sign that reminded Carrie of those signs at old movie theaters. The sign read:

The Great American Music Hall

Erotic Corpses

9:00 PM

"If you scratch my car, you're dead, buddy." Blake warned the valet - a young teenaged boy with red hair, freckles, and zits all over his face.

The teen valet shuddered as if a chill had just gone down his back.

Ro smiled. The medium had her ID badge clipped to the front of the stylish outfit that Carrie had forced her into - literally. Ro felt utterly ridiculous and was sure she looked it too! _I probably look like a clown._ The gloomy girl bemoaned.

The trio entered the music hall unhindered and were immediately greeted by Manager Brody, who was puffing contentedly on a Cuban cigar. "Ah, Ro, there you are. We've been waiting for you, sweetie." He grinned easily at her, to put her more at ease. The girl always seemed so nervous.

"Hello Manager Brody," Ro greeted with a tremulous smile.

Manager Brody looked at Carrie and immediately frowned as he stroked the stubble on his chin. "Ah, I hate to be a killjoy but your friend is going to have to stay here. I'm under specific instructions not to let any other girls backstage...Vincent's fans have been...violent lately. She can watch the concert like everyone else from the concert hall."

"But Manager Brody, Carrie is my assistant." Ro started.

"I also have this." Carrie took out the backstage pass that Vincent had given her and clipped it on the front of her gothic gown. "Vincent gave it to me personally too. If that helps."

Manager Brody looked at the pass and raised an eyebrow at it, looking amused. "Well, I'll be. Looks like everything's in order then. Follow me girls. The band needs to get into costume as soon as possible. I still can't believe you didn't want to schedule a fitting - if there's a problem with the costumes' sizes now...we're fucked."

"Tell him there will be no problems with your costumes." Blake directed.

"There will be no problems with my costumes, Manager Brody, of that I can assure you." Ro said confidently. She believed in Carrie and Blake.

Manager Brody gave Ro a skeptical look but nodded in agreement sensing the confidence in her demeanor. "Let's hope not. Mr. Wraythe might kill me otherwise." Manager Brody chuckled as he led the trio backstage and to the VIP dressing room for the band. There was a yellow star on the door that read: _Erotic Corpses_.

Manager Brody waved security aside and escorted the girls inside. Ro was not surprised to see Sadie Skellington cozying up to Devon Decayn on the only couch in the room. He looked up and spotted her and their eyes met.

However, Joey spotted Ro as soon as she arrived and immediately bounded over to her like a lost puppy. "Hi Ro! Hey, you brought Carrie too. Sweet." He nodded in a hyper manner. "You have our costumes?"

"Of course she does! You guys are going to look great! Ro is a fashion genius - if I don't say so myself." Carrie was bubbling with enthusiasm.

Vincent swaggered up to Carrie and smirked at her. "I'm glad you were able to fit us into your busy schedule, my lady." He teased before leaning in and whispering in her ear. "I knew you would come."

Carrie quickly stepped backwards a couple of steps to give herself some distance between herself and Vincent. "Yea, well, I wanted to help Ro assist you guys to look freakin awesome for tonight's concert! In a way this concert is in honor of Blake! Don't you think?" Carrie asked slyly.

Vincent grimaced and tucked a stray strand of his long, silky hair behind his ear in a nervous gesture. "I guess you could say that."

"I can't wait to see what kind of costume you came up with for me, Ro," Joey was saying.

Ro smiled shyly at Joey. "I hope you like it."

Carrie clapped her hands. "Alright, chop chop. I know Ro already explained our idea over the phone, but I'll explain it all to you guys one more time. Your main costumes are to be worn underneath the military uniforms. After you guys are shot down and then come back to life, you guys will rip off the military uniforms (that are held together by Velcro) and reveal your true costumes. Got it?"

The rockstars nodded. "Let's get you boys changed then, shall we?" Carrie started and gave Ro an apologetic look. She was really getting into this!

Carrie and Ro began to unpack the suitcase and handed the young rockstars their costumes. The medium and the Wicca witch helped Devon, Joey, and Vincent to dress into their main costumes first and then assisted them with their military uniforms that went over top.

Ro was blushing the entire time as she helped the boys dress while they were in nothing but their boxers. Vincent laughed at Ro's flushed face while Joey was feeling shy and embarrassed because of Ro's innocent reactions.

Vincent decided to tease Carrie as she helped him into a extravagant, red velvet suit. "Aren't you going to blush like a maiden too?"

"Pfft." Carrie scoffed. "I'm no 'innocent maiden' like Ro...besides, you're just not hot enough to make me nervous."

"Is that so? My six pack abs do absolutely nothing for you?" Vincent teased as he raised his shirt and ran his hand over his pale, muscular abs.

Carrie gulped. Was it just her or was it getting a bit hot in there? "In your dreams, Vincent Sangre. I'm not going to be just another notch on your belt. I'm way out of your league."

Vincent suddenly frowned. "You think I'm only playing with you?"

"No shit." Carrie crossed her arms over her ample bosom.

"What if I told you I wasn't playing with you but was seriously interested in you...in going out with you..." Vincent said in a low voice.

Carrie's eyes widened in surprise but then she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the drummer. "Oh please, you'd expect me to believe that! I'm not that naïve." Carrie spun around, prepared to stomp off but-

Vincent grabbed her arm and spun her back around to face him. Vincent lowered his sunglasses and stared into Carrie's eyes intently. "I like you, Carrie. A lot." Vincent leaned forward as if he'd kiss Carrie but at the last moment he placed a kiss tenderly on Carrie's forehead instead.

Carrie froze in place. Vincent smirked knowingly, let go of her arm, and sauntered off with a bounce to his step.

"Oh shit..." Carrie swore to herself as she felt her face heat up and her heart hammer in her chest a mile a minute. _I can't let myself fall for that playboy...I just can't..._

***

Meanwhile, Ro was buttoning Joey's jacket and blushing fiercely. The bass guitarist was turning equally red, affected by Ro's closeness.

Devon stood next to Joey and rolled his eyes at the two lovebirds. "What are you guys like fifth graders? I have to say, Ro, you are the most unprofessional stylist I have ever met. You really don't act like a stylist at all..."

Ro froze, suddenly nervous, "I don't know what you mean..."

Devon shrugged. "But you created such awesome costumes for us...and you even got our sizes perfect without having to measure us and without a fitting. Almost too perfect, I think. It's...suspicious." Devon stroked his chin and narrowed his eyes at Ro.

Ro gulped, and laughed nervously. "Ehehehehe. I'll take that as a compliment, Devon." Ro finished putting Joey's costume on and moved over to assist Devon next.

Devon was standing before her in only his boxers. He had a pale, muscular body that looked as if it were made of marble. His dark red boxers had tiny footballs on them and that surprised Ro. She has figured Devon would be wearing boxers with tiny skulls on them or something. A lit cigarette was dangling from Devon's lips in a sexy manner. "Er, could you put your cigarette out?" Ro asked.

Devon took the cigarette out of his mouth with his right hand and wet the fingers of his left hand with his tongue so that he could snuff the glowing end of the cigarette by pinching the cig with his index finger and thumb. He tossed the cig into a nearby trashcan afterwards.

There was something _sexual_ about what Devon just did and Ro gulped as she approached The guitarist with a pair of leather pants - but the pants were suddenly snatched from her grip! Ro turned to see Sadie glaring daggers at her and almost spitting fire.

"I can dress Devon, myself! _I'm_ his girlfriend so you need to get your paws off of my man!" Sadie screeched.

"Sadie," Devon began in a stern tone.

But Ro cut him off. "Ah, it's okay, Sadie can dress you. She _is_ your girlfriend after all so it's only natural that she's the only one who gets to touch you. And I respect your relationship."

Devon gave Ro a surprised look before shrugging. "Well, if it's alright with you."

"Yay! Thanks Ro! I totally owe you one!" Sadie declared as she began to help Devon into his costume. Her mood had apparently done a one eighty and she seemed to be in high spirits again.

Ro shook her head at Sadie. That girl had bi-polar disorder for sure. One minute she was sweet and cute, and the next she was scary and violent. Ro let out a breath of relief. She was actually glad she didn't have to touch Devon - he was really tall and intimidating and sexy as hell. She didn't really know how to deal with him...

Devon Decayn was a _real_ rockstar. He had this overwhelming presence that naturally drew people to him.

"Take a photo, beggar girl, it will last longer." Blake sneered at Rosalie's side making her jump in surprise.

After the rockstars had finished putting on their costumes and military uniforms, the concert crew handed the young men their fake AK-47s. It was then explained to the band that when they pulled down on the triggers nothing would actually happen but that the sound effects crew would activate the sound of an automatic rifle firing.

Carrie then directed the band to take a seat in front of the vanity mirrors that were surrounded by lights, and that had dressing counters in front of them, so she could begin applying their zombie makeup. "Come on boys, you too Ro, it's time to do your zombie makeup. I shall turn you all into zombies!" The witch cackled evilly for comedic effect. "Buwhahaha."

Joey shivered and gave Carrie a nervous look. "Scary."

"Hurry up, will you? I'm dying for a smoke," Devon complained.

Vincent chuckled. "I feel your pain, bro."

Joey gave Devon and Vincent disgusted looks. "You guys should really quit smoking."

Devon and Vincent just looked at Joey as if he were crazy.

"Joey's a bit of a health nut...he won't eat anything a rabbit won't eat. Be careful Ro - he's going to try and convert you to his Jiddu Krishnamurti ways!" Vincent teased.

"Rabbit?" Ro mused and pictured Joey with bunny ears while eating a carrot and giggled.

"Did you just _giggle_? Your inner persona and your outer persona don't match at all, Miss Ripper." Devon declared as he gave Ro a piercing look.

Ro gulped.

Joey grinned. "I know, right. Ro looks so totally awesome and badass, but she's so sweet!" Joey declared, as he looked Ro's zombie outfit over in an admiring way. He had the urge to hug and squeeze her, but he resisted.

Ro was wearing a white, long-sleeved, knee-length dress with a triple tier layered skirt. Ro was self-consciously pulling on the bottom of the dress thinking that it was too short. Ro was wearing a thick, black belt around her waist that had a silver skull on it and had kept her choker on around her neck. Her left sleeve had been ripped off at the shoulder and parts of her dress had been ripped or torn to give the dress a ragged effect. Carrie had put her in a pair of black stockings that had holes cut into them for dramatic effect and a pair of modern, chunky-heeled, mary-jane shoes. Ro's eye sockets had been painted black, her cheekbones had been accentuated with gray blue and she had black lipstick on. She was looking a little bit like a Goth version of a Raggedy Anne doll that had been zombiefied.

"She looks like a bitch." Devon said simply as he looked at Carrie's finished makeup job on Ro.

The medium blushed.

"Hey, Ro's not a bitch," Joey defended. "She's a real sweet girl."

"I know." Devon said, rolling his eyes at his slow friend. "I was being sarcastic, idiot."

Sadie didn't like all the attention that Ro was suddenly getting and began to grit her teeth angrily! "Hey Carrie, can you give me zombie makeup too? I'm a 'zombie' after all as _Erotic Corpses_ number one fan."

Carrie gave Sadie a skeptical look. "Oh ho, their number one fan, you say? But aren't you the lead singer of _The Necromancers_? _Erotic Corpses_ ' number one rival band in the rock scene? Isn't that like betraying your own band?"

Sadie glared at Carrie. "Who I fall in love with can't be helped."

"Love?" Carrie scoffed. "Weren't you madly in love with Blake White just a few weeks ago? It's all over your Twitter page. Who are you claiming to _love_ now? Devon? You sure like to use the word 'love' lightly, huh?"

"Uh!" Sadie was speechless and tried to defend herself but strange squawking noises came out of her mouth instead. However, Devon suddenly came up behind Sadie and put his arm around her in a possessive gesture.

"That's enough, Carrie. You've gone too far. Sadie is my girlfriend now." Devon said in a low voice.

Carrie flinched at the scolding. "Sorry...my bad...it's really none of my business."

"You're right - it's not." Devon agreed coldly.

"I'd love to do your makeup, Sadie!" Carrie offered, in an overly cheerful manner.

Sadie gave her a distrustful look but smiled crookedly. Two could play at this game. "Oh really? Thanks a bunch! Teehee."

Carrie did Sadie's makeup and pretended she didn't want to strangle the two-faced female rockstar. Next, Carrie painted Devon's eye sockets in black and painted a complex design on his face to make his face look more like a skull. The Goth did something similar with Joey's makeup giving him black eye sockets, and a mouth with teeth painted over his cheeks to make him look like a grinning skull. For Vincent she used red and black on his eye sockets, painted his face white, lips black, gave him some fake vampire fangs, and added fake blood dribbling down the corner of his mouth.

Carrie stood back from _Erotic Corpses_ and looked them over one final time before she nodded, looking pleased with herself.

The rockstars were finally ready to rock.

With only minutes to spare before the concert, Manager Brody led the band, Carrie, Ro, and Sadie to a backstage area. Ro peeked around the curtain and saw that the band's instruments were already up on stage. The lights in the concert hall suddenly dimmed and the stage was enveloped in darkness.

"Break a leg, boys." Manager Brody said, grinning at them as he affectionately whacked the guys on their backs as they passed him by and made their way on stage. The band ran on stage, perfectly dressed in their military uniforms and holding their plastic machine guns.

The light crew immediately had the band illuminated with lights. The sound effects crew began to play the sounds of war: grenades going off, the sound of rapid gunfire, the screams of the wounded and dying. Devon, Joey and Vincent looked around the stage as if they expected enemies to appear.

Up on projection screens behind the band gruesome war images were being displayed. Shots of battles being fought in Afghanistan and shots from past wars. Powerful visual anti-war images like the mushroom cloud in Hiroshima after the atomic bomb had gone off. The bodies of dead children clutching their toys and dolls in the middle of a war zone.

Since Blake was a ghost he could float around invisibly and undetected wherever he wanted to. Blake floated around backstage and looked at the stage performers curiously as well as their fake machine guns.

That's when Blake heard it. The unmistakable sound of someone inserting a magazine into the slot of an AK-47 until it locked in place, and then the person pulling back on the cocking hammer that juts out from the side of the rifle. Blake followed the sound and found one of the stage performers - dressed in a black military uniform, military hat on his head, and with his AK-47 in hand. However, this man's AK-47 wasn't plastic like everyone else's. As Blake floated closer and took an even closer look, Blake was able to decide upon one thing. It was unmistakably _real_.

_What the fuck?_ Blake floated backwards in shock.

The hired actor raised his automatic rifle and pointed it at _Erotic Corpses_ \- putting each band member in his sight through the scope. Lastly, he put Joey in his sight since Joey was the closest and waited for a clear shot.

_Shit shit shit!_ Blake began to panic. What the hell was going on? Was someone going to kill Joey? Who was behind this? Was it Devon? Vincent? Who was trying to kill who? And why?

The actors got ready to go out on stage and act as if they were exchanging fire with the band.

In a boiling rage, Blake flew as quickly as he could towards Ro. "Ro! There's no time to explain. I have to possess you!"

Ro whipped her head around and saw Blake flying towards her with a freaked out expression on his face. Her eyes went wide like saucers. "What's wrong?"

But Blake didn't respond and entered the medium's body with a _whoom_.

Blake blinked as he opened his lavender colored eyes. He took a deep breath and clenched and unclenched his hands into fists.

"Hey, Ro what's-" Carrie was asking when 'Ro' took off running backstage and towards the hired actor.

At this point the actors had entered on stage and had begun firing at the band. The performer with the real automatic rifle raised his AK-47 and pulled down on the trigger.

"No!" Blake shouted as he leapt and tackled the man to the stage floor. The rifle went flying out of the man's hand and went skidding across the stage.

The shooter had gotten a few shots off, but luckily he missed his mark when Blake slammed into him and knocked him to the floor. The shots hit the outside of a box seat that was across the concert hall. Blake landed on top of the man but the shooter recovered his wits quickly and shoved Blake off of him and made a break for it.

"You're not getting away, you son of a bitch!" Blake growled as he ran after the actor.

Blake pursued the man backstage and caught up to him. "Hold it, right there!"

The man spun to confront Blake, fists raised, military cap lowered to shadow his eyes and features, and got into a fighting stance.

"Ahhh!" Blake charged forward and threw a high punch with his right hand.

The man raised his forearms to block the punch and Blake used this opportunity to punch the man in his gut with his left hand.

POW! The shooter grunted and coughed spit.

Blake threw another right-handed punch and the man tried to dodge it. "Too slow." Blake smirked as his fist connected with the side of the man's face.

KAPOW! The man's head whipped to the side grotesquely.

Blake executed a roundhouse kick next, his left foot aiming for the man's face. However-

Ro's patent leather shoe flew off and smacked the man in the face instead right between his eyes.

BAM! Without the heavy shoe on his left foot Blake became overbalanced and had to put his leg down. "Shit!" Blake swore as he bent over to pull his other shoe off so that he could regain his balance and continue the fight.

But the shooter wasn't going to give Blake the chance to recover. He turned around and fled.

"Hey, wait, you bastard! Fuck!" Blake swore as he flung the shoe aside and took off running after the guy. However-

Running in stockings is _never_ a good idea. Blake slipped and fell face first upon the floor with a thwacking sound. "Ugh..." Blake groaned and looked up to see that the shooter was long gone. "Dammit...fuck..." Blake brought his fist down upon the floor out of frustration.

The ghost could hear his band mates still exchanging fire against the actors, and then there was silence as the band collapsed to the stage - 'dead'.

Blake felt sick. One of them had almost been dead for _real_. But who had the shooter been targeting? Blake pushed himself up off the floor and quickly put Ro's shoes back on. He didn't want to miss the start of the concert. Blake ran back over to where Carrie and Sadie were standing and looking at the stage.

"Where were you?" Carrie started and noticed Ro's lavender colored eyes. "I thought I saw you up on stage..."

Blake's attention was on his ex-band mates, however, as they rose up off the stage floor and ripped their military uniforms off to reveal the costumes that Carrie had designed for them.

The audience and the 'zombies' all went _wild_.

Devon Decayn - the Angel of Death - was wearing a long, black, trench coat with hundreds of glossy, black feathers decorating the jacket's collar and its cuffs. The guitarist had on a pair of extremely tight black leather pants that had lots of straps and shiny buckles. To complete his 'fallen angel' look he had on a pair of heavy combat boots.

"Kyahhh! Devon!" "Our Angel of Death!" "Come and take me to heaven, baby!"

Next, was Joey Bones. The bass guitarist was dressed in a special, glow-in-the-dark suit that was black and had the glowing, green pattern of a skeleton on it. He was also wearing a glow in the dark neon green tie. He had a pair of shiny dress shoes on his feet and was grinning from ear to ear.

"Kyahhh! Joey! You're so cute!" "It's the Dancing Skeleton!" The zombie girls howled.

Lastly, Vincent Sangre. The drummer was dressed in a exquisite, red velvet suit. The jacket had two long tails in the back like a butler's jacket. A ruffled cravat was around his neck and a ruby broach had been clipped into the center of it. There was a top hat sitting on Vincent's head that had a deep red ribbon around its crown. He had a pair of tight, black silk pants on and a pair of fancy dress shoes.

The rockstars made their way over to their instruments. Vincent took a seat behind his drum set and picked up two drumsticks that were shaped like bones, and spun them in his hands. Joey went over and picked up a green bass guitar and slid the strap over his shoulder. While Devon sauntered over and picked up his dark blue guitar and put the strap over his head. The band began to play the new anti-war song beginning with the opening instrumental. Then, Devon approached the microphone stand.

The audience and zombies cheered in surprise and anticipation of what was to come. Devon grabbed the mic. He opened his mouth to sing and-

Nothing happened.

_Nothing_.

Vincent and Joey shot Devon worried looks but kept playing as if nothing was wrong in order to buy Devon some time.

But Devon Decayn had frozen up on stage - for the very first time in his life Devon Decayn had made a _mistake_.

"What the fuck is that idiot doing?!" Blake snapped. "Devon...you wanted to sing _our_ song, didn't you? And now you have the nerve to get cold feet? You suck! You're fucking pathetic! You're going to screw up the whole concert! Fuck! I can't watch this shit! I'll show you how it's done, Devon!" Blake shouted and ran out on stage.

Blake shoved Devon aside and removed the microphone from the stand before motioning for Joey and Vincent to restart the song. They immediately did so and Blake opened his mouth to sing - inside of Ro's body.

" _It's a cold cruel world we all live in_

The weak are always consumed by the strong

This world around us is a Zombie World

Good people sure don't last for very long

***

" _Old men are sending our boys to war_

They're forced to leave their families alone

Why do terrorists take so long to die?

No one is left to protect our home

***

" _Kill, Kill, Kill!_

Everyone's getting fucking killed

Kill, Kill, Kill

That's what they teach you to do

Die, Die, Die!

Everyone's turning into zombies

Die, Die, Die!

We're all soulless hunks of flesh"

Devon looked at Ro with wide eyes...in fact everyone was looking at Ro with wide eyes because Ro was singing and with a voice so similar to Blake White's voice it was scary. It was like they had the same voice but her voice was unmistakably feminine.

Devon quickly snapped out of his stupor and began to play his part on the lead guitar. He was ashamed of himself. He had just frozen up onstage and had been unable to sing Blake's song because...? Devon shook his head of such thoughts. He had a song to play. His fingers were soon racing up and down the fret board.

" _Darwinism, survival of the fittest_

Turn a blind eye and ignore the truth

Hell on earth controlled by those in power

On the net there's just way too much proof

***

" _Kill, Kill, Kill!_

Everyone's getting fucking killed

Kill, Kill, Kill

That's what they teach you do to

Die, Die, Die!

No heart, no soul, no conscience

Die, Die, Die!

We're all flesh-eating zombies"

Ro sang the chorus twice. The girl was singing Blake's song perfectly, word for word, after only having heard it once. Devon was extremely impressed. She was perfectly in key, singing in a voice so achingly similar to Blake's. _That voice...that's the voice that was meant to sing this song!_ Devon thought to himself happily. Joey and Vincent were also spellbound by Ro's voice.

" _How many more Americans must die?_

The war in Afghanistan is zero

Zombies will destroy all we hold dear

The fallen sons will be named 'hero'

***

" _This place is now a Zombie World..._

This place is now a Zombie World...

This place is now a Zombie World...

YEAAAA!"

The audience - the zombies - noticed it too. Ro Ripper had Blake's voice. And they went absolutely wild! "Kyahhh! Ahhh!" "EROTIC CORPSES RULES!" "Let's end the war and bring our boys home already!" "Yea! End the war!" The zombies yelled and danced and hand banged and made the sign of the horns aka the Maloik with their hands. The audience was completely eating Ro Ripper up.

When the song ended and the next one was supposed to start Devon, Joey and Vincent didn't know what to do next. How could Ro possibly be able to sing all of their songs after all? That first time was a fluke, right?

"What are you boys waiting for? Let's do this!" Ro yelled at them fiercely and totally being out of character. She was being bold and sexy as hell. "Yea! Yea! Yea!"

Devon nodded to Joey and Vincent and the boys began to play the next song. Blake held the mic and sang his soul out.

Joey closed his eyes...Vincent closed his eyes...Devon closed his eyes...

Suddenly, it was like Blake White was there with them again. Blake was back...

The concert continued with Ro Ripper having been revealed as _Erotic Corpses_ ' new singer.

Devon opened his eyes and stared at Ro. He couldn't believe it - that voice. Just who was Ro Ripper? Who...or _what_ was she? _Ro Ripper...who the fuck are you? What are you?_ Devon eyed her curiously and supiciously. Devon intended to find out.

### Chapter 8: Complete Control

The concert was a complete success and Manager Brody congratulated the band enthusiastically with hard pats to their backs before telling the band they had to make an appearance at an after party that was being held in one of the hottest nightclubs on the Sunset Strip in West Hollywood: _The Viper Room_.

"You were fucking amazing! My nipples are hard!" Sadie greeted Devon by running up to him, leaping up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his torso, and smashing her lips aggressively to his. Devon wrapped his arms around her waist before pressing her close to his body as he grabbed her ass with both his hands, and thrust his tongue into her mouth. It was the ultimate, hot, steamy, rockstar kiss.

Joey had attached himself to Ro's side, and was looking at her with sky-blue eyes shinning with admiration. "Ro...that was incredible. I didn't know you could sing..."

Blake had left Ro's body and now Ro was feeling extremely anxious, vulnerable and like a complete fake! A liar. A deceiver. She wanted to yell out to Joey that it hadn't been her voice - it had been Blake's. But all Ro could manage was to give Joey a strained smile.

Vincent swaggered backstage and looked around for Carrie. He spotted the Goth girl and winked at her. "So...were you mesmerized by my amazing performance? Or perhaps by just me?" He asked with his chin in his hand in a pensive pose.

Carrie tried to appear nonchalant and unaffected by Vincent's special attention. She crossed her arms over her ample chest. "Well...it didn't suck." She offered.

Vincent raised an eyebrow at Carrie before chuckling in that deep, throaty voice of his. "A lady who is hard to please. I like that type of woman - a woman who really knows what she wants. I'll just have to convince you that I'm what you want." Vincent declared as he stepped closer to Carrie so that he was only about a foot away from her.

Carrie swallowed. Was he going to try and kiss her? _Eppp!_ "G-Good luck with that." Carrie clenched her fists at her sides and tried to remain unaffected by Vincent Sangre's powerful pheromones. His mere closeness was giving her goosebumps.

Vincent chuckled and sauntered past her. "You haven't seen me dance yet." Vincent said in a confident manner. "I'll be seeing you at the club. Your first dance belongs to me." He threw a roguish wink her way.

"Presumptuous, womanizing...!" Carrie muttered under her breath. When his back was fully turned towards her she stuck her tongue out at him. She wasn't so easy. If Vincent Sangre thought she was the same as all his other fan girls who could be so easily seduced then he was wrong! Her gaze fell upon Sadie and Devon. She coughed awkwardly into her hand as she averted her eyes from the amorous couple. She wasn't a slut like Sadie Skellington! _That's for sure!_

Manager Brody approached Ro, a lit cigar dangling between his thin lips. "That was an extremely impressive performance, Miss Ripper. Mr. Wraythe was watching the performance from his office back at Wraythe Records since he still had a lot of work to take care of, but he wanted me to thank you. You really saved our butts back there. He would also like to discuss the opportunity of working for Wraythe Records. How would you like to be the lead singer of _Erotic Corpses_ , Miss Ripper?" Manager Brody offered in his easygoing manner as he removed the cigar from his mouth and breathed out a long stream of smoke.

Ro was rendered speechless by Manager Brody's sudden offer and caught completely off her guard. The lead singer of _Erotic Corpses_? She didn't even know how to sing! She was completely tone deaf! "I..." She stammered out in a flustered manner.

With his arms crossed over his chiseled chest, Blake was floating next to Ro and watching Manager Brody intently. "Tell Manager Brody that you'd love to." Blake instructed Ro firmly.

Ro gave Blake an incredulous look but looked back at Manager Brody. "I'd...love to." _Apparently..._

Manager Brody let out a breath of relief and wiped some imaginary sweat from his brow with his hand. "Phew. That's a load off my back. Now, let's hurry up and get ready to go. There's an after party we're having at _The Viper Room_. There we'll begin to introduce you as the new lead singer of _Erotic Corpses_. Signing a contract with us will come after that and is only a formality. Welcome to the band." Manager Brody put his cigar back into his mouth and held out his hand for Ro to take while giving her a warm look.

Ro took Manager's Brody's hand. He had a strong handshake. Ro's fingers felt numb after he let go of her hand. The medium felt someone's eyes upon her and turned to see Devon Decayn. Sadie was now attached to his arm and chatting away at him, but his attention wasn't on Sadie - it was focused on _her_.

His dark eyes that were like obsidian were so intense and penetrating.

Ro swallowed nervously. She felt like Devon could see right through her and her lies. She hated confrontation. She wanted to get as far away from Devon as possible and unconsciously began to back away from the sharp young man. However-

Blake had also noticed Devon's sudden interest in Ro and determined that this was the perfect chance for the medium to get closer to Devon in order to investigate him. Blake floated by Ro's side while still looking at the guitarist. "He's intrigued by you...we can use this. You need to get close to him. Smile at him, Ro." Blake instructed in an imperious manner.

Ro gave the ghost an incredulous look, as if to say 'are you crazy?' raising both her eyebrows at Blake. But then Ro took a deep breath, turned to face Devon, and smiled at him.

Devon didn't smile back and his eyes narrowed at the stylist instead.

_Eppp!_ Ro flinched.

Getting closer to Devon Decayn was going to be impossible! Manager Brody clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "Okay, everyone - enough dilly dallying. I have a limo waiting outside to take you all to _The Viper Room_. A lot of very important people will be there: actors, actresses, fellow singers, bands and socialites. We're going to introduce Ro Ripper as the new lead singer of _Erotic Corpses_ there as well. Got it, guys?"

Devon looked at Ro curiously, watching her every move. Vincent looked impressed and pleased by the announcement. The Vampire Prince even whistled through his teeth loudly. "Well done, my lady."

Joey was looking extremely happy. "Sweet! You're going to be a part of the band? This freakin awesome! Dude!" Joey exclaimed as he punched the air in front of his with his fists.

Ro smiled at Joey and nodded. "Mmm." She tried to avoid Devon's scrutinizing stare since it was totally making her nervous.

Vincent sauntered over to Ro. "It's an honor to have such a talented singer work with us. Your performance tonight really moved me...it reminded me of-" Vincent cut himself off and shook his head. "It was incredible. Didn't you think so, Devon?" The drummer turned to give his best friend a questioning look. Devon was being oddly quiet, Vincent noted.

Devon looked at Ro and nodded. "Incredible." He agreed in a bland tone as he took out a cigarette, lit it with his Zippo, and took a long drag to steady his nerves.

_Epp!_ Ro inwardly squeaked. Devon Decayn was so scary!

"Get your asses moving people!" Manager Brody drawled as he led the way.

Carrie and Sadie grabbed Ro's arms and began to drag her to the exit. "You were amazing out there, Ro!" Carrie gushed, feeling proud.

"Yes, even _I_ was impressed..." Sadie put in. "Your voice...it sounded just like Blake's! Hahahaha! The boys all looked like they'd seen a ghost when you started to sing! They got so pale and freaked out. It was marvelous! You must have listened to Blake sing a lot to be able to copy his tone and everything _almost_ perfectly. Your voice still sounds feminine though...too bad. You were so close...but your 'imitation' wasn't perfect. But no one will be able to sing like he did..." Sadie finished in a surprisingly wistful tone.

"Yea..." Ro readily agreed with Sadie's theory that she had been trying to 'copy' Blake's voice! _Nice cover! Thank you, Sadie Skellington._

Devon, Vincent, Joey, Ro, Carrie, Sadie and Manager Brody exited _The Great American Music Hall_ through a back exit and spotted a stretch limo waiting for them on the street. The group made their way to the limo and Manager Brody opened the back passenger door for everyone to get inside the limo first. Carrie's eyes brightened at the sight of the interior of the limo. It was spectacular. Ro had already been inside of _Erotic Corpses_ ' limo before and wondered if the familiar looking driver was Harper with that surly expression on his face Ro knew it had to be him.

Carrie eyed the long gray and black couch, the long bar on the other side that was covered in glasses and expensive bottles of booze, the mini fridge and the entertainment center that had a CD player and a small TV. "This limo is fucking awesome!" Carrie exclaimed loudly as she stepped inside of it. She immediately covered her mouth with her hand and looked embarrassed. "Sorry..."

Vincent smoothly moved to take a seat next to Carrie on the limo seat, and chuckled. "Don't be, my lady. You think rockstars don't swear? I assure you we have our vices." Vincent declared as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. "Sex, drugs, and booze." He winked.

Carrie rolled her eyes at the drummer.

Ro moved to sit on Carrie's other side and Joey swiftly moved to sit next to the medium while grinning like an idiot. Ro smiled nervously, feeling very out of place.

Devon entered the limo with Sadie attached to his arm. It was kind of amazing that he could move around like that.

Manager Brody got in last. Blake floated inside, took a seat on the limo seat, and watched everyone with a bored expression on his face. Joey was sticking close to Ro in a very irritating manner. And Sadie was attached to Devon as if someone had accidentally put superglue on Devon's arm and she had accidentally gotten stuck there. Carrie was flirting with Vincent even if she didn't want to admit it, and that pissed Blake off immensely. The Wicca witch had promised him she wouldn't flirt with his ex-band mates.

Blake knew he had to figure out a way to get Sadie away from Devon first. Then he needed to find a way to get Joey away from Ro. He needed a plan. Blake stroked his chin in thought.

The limo pulled up right in front of _The Viper Room_. There was a crowd of fans and 'zombies' gathered and waiting outside of the club to catch a glimpse of _Erotic Corpses_ and their newest member: Ro Ripper. There were several reporters and paparazzi also present.

Manager Brody exited the limo first and kept the door open for the band as they began to file out of the limo one by one. He offered his hand to the ladies present, and helped them out of the limo in a gentlemanly manner.

_Manager Brody is such a nice guy._ Ro thought to herself as she took Manager Brody's hand and allowed him to help her out of the limo.

Ro noticed that Manager Brody let out a heavy sigh though and wondered why. But Brody was used to women needing help these days - to get in and out of cars, or to go up or down a flight of stairs due to the crazy shoe fashion that was popular or 'in' these days.

Manager Brody was nodding to himself as he thought about it with a frown on his face. Shoe fashion had gone insane - with five-inch heels or higher being the norm. _Women can barely walk in those hellish things! It's hazardous to the health._ Lady Gaga has been spotted in an interview wearing shoes that were a foot high! _That's just wrong._ Manager Brody shook his head remembering that interview.

Palanquins for female celebrities were already becoming a common sight in Beverly Hills. Especially, on Rodeo Drive...one could see extravagant, ornately decorated palanquins encrusted with _Swarovski Crystals_ being carried around on the shoulders of celebrity security guards. Joan Rivers was the first to have one and since she started the trend other celebrities soon followed.

Ro looked at the building that was _The Viper Room_ curiously. It was a rectangular shaped, brick building that had been painted completely black. There were no visible windows. And the name of the club: ' _The Viper Room_ ' had been painted above the door in gigantic white letters on the building's brick surface.

Blake floated up next to Ro and began to tell her about the club. "This is one of the most popular hangouts for Hollywood's most famous young actors and musicians. It used to be co-owned by Johnny Depp. It was founded in 1993. It's been frequented by celebrities like: Jennifer Aniston, Lisa Marie Presley, Jared Leto, Christina Applegate, Angelina Jolie, Rosario Dawson, Tobey Maguire, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Adam Duritz. River Phoenix died tragically on the club's front steps in 1993 because of a drug overdose. He was close friends with Flea from _The Red Hot Chili Peppers_ and even played with the band from time to time. River was a talented actor and musician. I wonder...if his ghost is here. I always wondered about that when I came here with my band mates to get smashed." Blake revealed.

"River Pheonix?" Ro mused softly. "I saw him in the movie _Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade_ when Carrie ordered that movie on Pay-Per-View. He was good. I didn't know he was dead."

"It's shit stories like that that make me stay away from drugs like cocaine and heroin." Blake said. "He was only twenty three when he died. Devon and Vincent smoke cigarettes, but that's about it. Damion Hellsing's a total drug addict and he's going to die of an overdose someday...that idiot." Blake groused, with a pissed off expression on his face.

Ro looked at Blake curioulsy. If she didn't know any better she'd say Blake was _concerned_ about Damion Hellsing.

As the group walked towards the entrance, screaming fans and zombies greeted them loudly while camera flashes greeted them brightly. They entered through the front door unhindered and Ro found that even the coatroom seemed impressive to her.

Ro had never been to a nightclub before. The atmosphere was intense. There were so many people packed so closely together: dancing and drinking. Ro wasn't the most social person in the world and could feel her social anxiety rising within her as her chest felt tight.

Beautiful waitresses walked around the club with trays of colorful drinks. The California club goers were beautiful too and very well-dressed in designer clothes. There were a lot of blondes because of the sunny California weather though they were currently suffering the cold of November. The women looked perfect - a little too perfect and Ro wondered if a few of them might have gotten plastic surgery or breast implants. These people were picture perfect and without any flaws. At least, this is the way it appeared to the homely Ro.

Their apparent 'perfection' made Ro feel insecure almost instantly. She felt herself shrinking inside of the nightclub. Everyone suddenly seemed to be towering over her, pointing at her, sneering at her and laughing at her. Ro shook her head to get rid of the paranoid images from her mind. Her anxiety continued to rise though and it was becoming hard to breath.

When Sadie and Devon entered the club as if they owned the place, all eyes instantly fell upon them. They were the picture perfect rockstar couple. Sadie was clinging to Devon's arm as the couple made their way through the crowd of dancing people, and the club goers parted like the Red Sea for the Prince and Princess of Punk Rock.

"Ro!" Blake floated over and shouted in Ro's ear to get her attention over the thumping dance music. "Let go of Joey's arm! I need to speak with you and Carrie alone for a second! We need a plan!"

_Epp!_ Ro squeaked and let go of Joey's arm instantly. She hadn't even noticed that she had grabbed Joey's arm out of nervousness. All these people...the bright colored lights...the loud music...it was just too much.

Ro reached out and grabbed Carrie's arm instead. The Goth had been about to put her hand on Vincent's arm and jumped. Ro pulled the flustered Carrie backwards and into the large coatroom.

"Whoa, Ro, what's wrong?" Carrie asked, wondering if Ro had seen her about to put her hand on Vincent's arm and was about to lecture her about it.

"It's Blake. He wants me to get Devon alone so I can investigate him. He's our number one suspect right now. He's been acting incredibly suspicious. And Blake wants you to help me by getting Sadie away from Devon. He already has an idea about how to get Joey away from me..." Ro explained while she was listening to Blake's instructions and relaying them to Carrie at the same time.

Carrie immediately sobered. She had almost forgotten _why_ they were really there - all these people they were hanging out with were murder suspects. "Tell Blake, I'm in. I'll see what I can do about Sadie. Just leave it to me!" Carrie gave Ro a thumbs-up.

Ro let out a breath of relief. She felt better knowing that Carrie was here and on her side. The medium and the Wicca witch left the coatroom to find Joey and Vincent waiting for them with curious and amused expressions on their faces.

"Is everything alright, ladies?" Vincent asked in his smooth voice.

"Of course," Carrie exclaimed as she boldly took Vincent's arm. "Lead the way."

Ro looked at Joey shyly and at his arm. Joey grinned at her and offered his arm. "Might as well take it...or else we're going to feel left out." Ro smiled tremulously, nodded, and took Joey's arm.

The young men escorted the ladies into the club and the crowd parted for them. They spotted Devon and Sadie already seated at a circular table in the VIP section, and headed over to them. The four took a seat on the circular sofa. Ro looked around curiously to see where Manager Brody had gone, and saw that he had taken a seat at a table by himself. The manager of _Erotic Corpses_ was currently enjoying a martini. Ro figured the older man probably wanted to give the young rockstars some space. Devon was already enjoying a cigarette and Vincent asked Devon to give him one, which he obliged.

Devon and Sadie already had drinks in front of them, but a waitress promptly arrived to take their orders. "What would you like to drink, Ro?" Joey kindly asked her.

"Um, just a glass of water." She said softly.

A heavy and profound silence descended upon the table.

One could hear a pin drop in the club.

"What?" Joey blinked at her.

"Idiot! Just order a normal drink!" Blake chided her. "Try and act like a normal girl your age, for heaven's sake!"

"I...um...I don't drink...well, it's not that I don't. I've never had an alcoholic drink before..." Ro quickly tried to explain.

Everyone relaxed at that. "Oh, why don't you try something that has a low alcoholic content and that's sweet - like a cocktail?" Joey suggested.

"Oh no, I couldn't..." Ro argued.

Joey ignored Ro and ordered her a sweet cocktail and a drink for himself. Vincent ordered himself a Bloody Mary. And before Vincent could ask Carrie what she wanted she ordered herself a Cosmopolitan. Vincent smiled at the Goth witch. "A woman who knows what she wants." He repeated softly to himself.

The group began to chat about various things while Ro remained quiet for the most part. Her social anxiety had begun to subside and she could breathe a little easier. "Hey, is everything alright, Ro? You're being awfully quiet. Feel free to participate in our conversation..." Joey insisted.

"Ah, it's not that. It's more than enough to get to listen to you guys...I've never been to a dance club like this before..." Ro revealed.

Everyone looked at Ro as if she'd grown a second head.

"What did I tell you about acting _normal_? Are you ignoring me? Gah! So much for our badass female stylist turned rockstar act...you little goody two-shoes!" Blake complained loudly.

"Dude! No way! What did you do in college?" Joey asked as he arched a blonde eyebrow at her.

Ro shrugged. "Studied. I was always studying because I had a scholarship and I wanted to become a nurse. I managed to get a job at the Good Samaritan Hospital right after graduation, but..." A dark shadow fell over Ro's face but passed almost instantly. "It didn't work out."

"A nurse?" Joey exclaimed. "That is so cool! I'm sure another hospital will hire you..."

"Yea..." Ro agreed, though she didn't sound too convinced.

"A nurse?" Sadie suddenly scoffed. "But...what about being a singer? Don't tell me singing is just a hobby of yours because I won't believe it. To get that good at singing you have to practice 24-7. Like I do! You're obviously lying to look cool in front of Joey. Do you think he likes nurses or something? Joey, do you have a nurse fetish that I don't know about?"

Joey blushed in response. "Wha? No way..." Although as Joey began to picture Ro in a nurse's outfit his blush intensified and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Ro stiffened. "I'm not lying...I went to Biola University. It's my dream to be a nurse...in order to help people." _To help my father..._

"It's pretty hard to believe...a singer as good as you wanting to be a nurse." Devon started. "But I wanted to be a football player back in high school." He shrugged. "Life works in mysterious ways. I think what's harder to believe than that is your personality change. You were so loud and vibrant on stage, but now you're acting all shy and quiet."

"Idiot! Act normal!" Blake shouted at Ro.

"I'm just nervous to be surrounded by such incredible artists. I'm sorry..." Ro apologized.

"Don't apologize!" Joey looked horrified. "I understand you, Ro." Joey whispered in her ear. "You're just a very _kind person_."

Ro blushed in response. She wasn't used to receiving compliments. A few minutes later their waitress arrived with four drinks on a tray. The waitress quickly set the drinks down before them. Ro took a sip of her cocktail tentatively and was instantly surprised by how sweet it was. "Mmm."

Joey laughed at Ro for being so obvious about liking her drink. "Let's get this girl another cocktail!"

"Oh no, I really shouldn't," Ro said while sipping her drink quickly. _This is just sooo good. I don't feel so nervous anymore. This is so liberating. Whee!_

"Cheers! To new friends!" Vincent declared raising his Bloody Mary.

"To new friends." Devon agreed. Everyone raised their glasses, clinked them, and then they all took a large swallow from their drinks.

Blake was also seated at the table, feeling very invisible. _Dang._ He wished he could have a drink! Sometimes it really sucked being dead. He couldn't drink, couldn't smoke, couldn't fuck, couldn't si-

Actually, he could sing now because of Ro. Blake realized thoughtfully as he looked at the medium who was getting tipsy on cocktails. _That idiot._ Blake knew he needed to move fast and put his plan into action before Ro passed out.

"Oi! Ro! Ask Joey about his dancing skills. Tell him that online you once saw this YouTube video of a dance off between him and Vincent. Ask him what that was all about." Blake commanded.

"Hey Joey, are you a good dancer?" Ro asked in a slightly slurred tone.

Joey gave Ro a surprised look. "I think so...why? Would you like to dance?"

"Do you think you're better than Vincent? I saw this video of you and Vincent dancing on YouTube...what was that?" Ro asked with a lopsided smile.

Joey frowned as he tried to figure out what Ro was walking about. "Ah, you saw one of our 'Kamikaze Dance Offs?" Joey explained.

"Kamikaze Dance Off?" Ro repeated drunkenly.

Joey and Vincent exchanged a look. "How about it, Vinnie? You up for the challenge? Even though you know I'm going to beat you." Joey jabbed his chest with his thumb in a cocky gesture.

"You're on, Joey. Waitress - bring us the Kamikaze Set!" Vincent told a nearby waitress.

"Right away, Vincent, er, Sir!" The waitress said enthusiastically with hearts in her eyes as she got to speak to Vincent Sangre.

Carrie noticed and rolled her eyes at the waitress.

"What's a Kamikaze Set?" Ro asked.

"You'll see," Joey said with a wink.

A few minutes later the waitress was back with two trays piled high with various expensive looking drinks. The waitress set one tray down in front of Joey and the other down in front of Vincent. As the waitress set the tray down in front of Vincent she made sure to bend over in such a way to show off her cleavage. "You're Vincent Sangre, aren't you?" She purred.

"That's right, my lady." Vincent agreed, smiling charmingly at the pretty waitress.

"Do you have a girlfriend right now?" The waitress asked curiously.

"I am currently single. This is good news for all of the beautiful, single women in California." Vincent stated as he tucked a stray lock of his red hair behind his ear.

The waitress' eyes sparkled. "I like you...would you consider going out with me? Even if it's for one month...I don't care." Her voice began to take on a begging tone.

Vincent looked at Carrie out of the corner of his eye and frowned. "I'm sorry but there's someone I like right now."

"Oh." The waitress stood up straight and looked put out. She stalked off, somewhat angrily.

"Are you done flirting, Vinnie?" Joey joked.

"Indeed, I believe so." Vincent put his hands out in a helpless gesture.

"Allow me to explain how the Kamikaze Dance Off works." Devon offered to Ro. "These two idiots are going to have to drink everything that's on those trays in front of them before going up on stage and dancing. They'll dance one at a time and the club goers will cheer for who they like more. The dancer who gets the more enthusiastic response is the winner. The loser has to pay for all these expensive drinks." Devon explained to Ro with an amused smirk on his face.

Joey and Vincent each picked up a drink, clinked their glasses together, and chugged their drinks back in one go. Joey and Vincent set their empty glasses down, wiped their mouths with the backs of their hands, and took up another drink.

Carrie rolled her eyes at the two rockstars. "Are you sure you're going to be able to dance after drinking all that, Drummer Boy?" Carrie asked Vincent in a skeptical tone.

Vincent smiled at her easily, swirling his latest drink - a martini - before taking a sip. "It would take more than this to affect my dancing skills. Prepare to be mesmerized, my lady."

"Yea, yea." Carrie said with a wave of her hand. "Try not to fall flat on your face out there, Mr. Vampire Prince."

Several drinks later, the drummer and bass guitarist had finally managed to finish off their Kamikaze Sets. Now it was time to dance (and try to remain standing).

Joey and Vincent got up from the table (Joey a little unsteadily) and made their way to the dance floor, and headed towards the stage where a pole had been imbedded in its center.

Devon leaned back in his seat, putting his hands behind his head, and his boots up on the table. "You girls are going to love this." He said in a drawling voice, a twinkle in his eye.

The first to get up on the stage was Vincent Sangre. As soon as he hopped up on stage the crowd, zombies, and especially the ladies present in the club, all cheered:

"Kyahhh! Vincent! We love you!" "No, _I_ love you!" " _I_ love you _more_!" "No I do!" "Meooww! Rarrr!"

An unexpected catfight broke out around the stage as the girls fought over who liked Vincent Sangre more. A few actually bit each other on the neck!

"DJ Angelo! Hit it!" Vincent shouted over the music to his friend and one of the most popular DJs for _The Viper Room_. DJ Angelo was this huge, tan-skinned dude with long dread locks and with a Rasta colored bandana tied around his head. He had kind, brown eyes, a friendly demeanor and very chill attitude. He was wearing a funny t-shirt that had the image of DJ Yoda on it wearing a pair of headphones around his neck and some aviator sunglasses on his green face. Yoda's sunglasses reflected a crowd of dancing people with their hands up in the air.

DJ Angelo nodded and selected his own personal remix of Michael Jackson's _Thriller_ song. He knew that Vincent would want to dance to that particular song so that he could whip out his zombie moves and head banging stunts.

The music started and Vincent began to dance. His olive-hued skin glowed in the dance club's lights. The drummer's movements were fluid and precise. Vincent's dancing almost looked like a martial arts routine. He borrowed a lot of moves from the King of Pop, added some zombie arm swaying, definitely had a lot of crotch grabbing that made the girls howl with glee, and tipped his top hat at the end of the song.

DJ Angelo pulled the mic closer to him and spoke loudly over the music. "Hello everyone. WUZZZUPPP? Alright, everyone knows the drill. But for those of you who don't and have been living under a rock - this is _Erotic Corpses_ ' Kamikaze Dance Off! The loser of the dance off has to pay for all the expensive drinks these two rockstars just consumed! So if you think Vincent's got the moves - I want you to make some noise people!"

"Kyahhh! Vincent!" The roar from the females was deafening.

Vincent bowed dramatically and hopped off the stage.

"Alright, we all know you liked Vincent. But will you like Joey Bones better? Let's give it up for the Dancing Skeleton!" DJ Angelo announced.

The crowd cheered and this time men and women cheered for Joey. "Let's rock this joint, Angelo! Give me - _I'm sexy and I know it!_ " Joey shouted over the music.

"You got it, Joey!" Angelo shouted back, "Set that stage on fire with your sick moves, bro!" DJ Angelo put on LMFAO's ' _I'm sexy and I know it_ ' and it burst from the speakers driving everyone wild with its catchy beat.

Joey hopped up on stage, put his baseball cap backwards, and began to sing along to the song. Then Joey broke out into some impressive break dancing moves. He did a handstand and spun his legs through the air. Then he hopped back to his feet and started dancing like a robot. The crowd laughed and cheered. Joey took off his glow-in-the-dark skeleton jacket, whirled it over his head in a circle, and threw it at the crowd.

"Kyahhh! Joey!" The girls went WILD.

"Is it hot in here?" Joey shouted at the crowd.

"YEA!" The girls shouted back with their hands in the air.

Joey put his hand to his ear and leaned towards the crowd. "I can't hear you!"

"YEAAA!" The girls all cried.

"Okay! I guess I should take off a little more!" Joey shouted back and began to slowly peel off his shirt to reveal his sun-kissed, muscled torso and six pack abs. He tossed his t-shirt into the crowd and the girls all dove for it. It was as bad as girls diving for a bouquet at someone's wedding. Joey couldn't believe the catlike sounds he was hearing and the sound of fabric being ripped. He shivered. Girls were kind of scary.

DJ Angelo put on _Gangnam Style_ next and Joey began to dance the horsey dance. The crowd went even wilder as everyone began to dance the horsey dance along with Joey. It was like a bad version of PSY's _Gangnam Style_ music video up on that stage!

"Hey Nassira! You know what to do!" DJ Angelo called out to his friend and the club's main hostess.

"I'm on it!" A tall, voluptuous and exotic woman with long, wavy, black hair, dark luminous brown eyes and tanned skin said as she grabbed a bottle of tequila from the bar and ran over to the stage. She drew a line with the tequila along the front of the stage and using her lighter she set it on fire. Flames erupted along the front of the stage.

"That boy's on fire, yo!" DJ Angelo said over the music. "Now people, if you think Joey has the moves let me hear you all make some noise! Let us know if you think Joey is the better dancer!"

"Kyahhh!" "WHOOOO! JOEYYY!" "The Dancing Skeleton!" The club goers erupted into ear shattering cheers.

It seemed pretty obvious that Joey had won the competition. Joey reached his hand down to Vincent and pulled his band mate up on stage so that they could dance together. Vincent accepted Joey's hand without hesitation, showing that he had no hard feelings over the loss.

Meanwhile, back at the VIP table, Devon chuckled at the crazy antics of his band mates. Ro was spellbound. She had never seen anything like the dance off before. Joey and Vincent were...incredible. To be able to dance like that in front of so many people...she could never imagine doing such a thing. She'd be terrified.

"Whooo! Yea! Vincent!" Carrie exclaimed as she pumped her fist in the air suddenly acting like she was a football game. "Woo woo woo!"

Sadie stared at Carrie as if she'd lost her mind. "Obvious much?"

Carrie blushed and immediately fell silent as she lowered her hand. She glared at Sadie across the table. "No, that's _you_ , Miss Desperate." Carrie eyed Sadie's girlie pink-colored cocktail. "Pfft! What is that? Is that girlie drink all you can handle? I thought you were a rockstar? But you're a pathetic lightweight."

Carrie's words made Sadie's blood boil. "What was that b-" Sadie looked at Devon and laughed nervously. "Hahahaha. I can assure you that I can handle more liquor than you, Wicca witch."

"Oh? I'd like to take that challenge. Waitress! It's time for shots! Let's see who can truly handle their liquor, Sadie Skellington!" Carrie egged Sadie on.

Sadie was fuming and her cute blonde haircut seemed to be standing on end. "Oh, you're on, witch bitch."

Their waitress arrived shortly after with a tray of shots. Carrie picked up a shot and Sadie followed suit. The two girls glared at each other as they drank their shots in one go \- tilting their heads back. The girls' shot competition had begun!

Carrie and Sadie were so focused upon each other and their shot competition that they left Devon and Ro to themselves at the other end of the table.

Blake nodded to himself. That was a job well done if he didn't say so himself. Now was Ro's chance to get close to Devon! "Smile at him! God! Do I have to tell you how to do everything!" Blake huffed in irritation.

Ro flinched as Blake yelled at her and tried to look natural as she smiled at Devon tremulously.

"So how do you like your first time at a nightclub, Ro?" Devon asked suddenly.

"Oh, it's fun...if not a little intense." Ro admitted.

"Do you know how to dance?" Devon asked Ro casually as he took a drag from his cigarette causing the tip to ignite and glow.

"No-" Ro was saying when Blake yelled into her ear. "Yes! Say: 'Yes!' Idiot! Get Devon to take you out to the dance floor!" Blake ordered.

"I mean, yes..." Ro quickly corrected.

Devon let out a stream of smoke before putting his cigarette out in the ashtray and then stood up from the table offering his hand to Ro. "Would you like to dance?"

"Um...wait a sec..." Ro picked up her cocktail and chugged it back - because it was wasteful to leave it since it had probably cost a lot of money.

Devon raised an eyebrow at her actions but shrugged it off. Ro set her empty glass down and put her hand in Devon's. She felt warm and fuzzy and tingly inside. She was suppressing a smile and a giggle.

Devon pulled the medium up to her feet and led her out onto the dance floor. The guitarist let go of Ro's hand and began to dance. Ro however just stood in front of Devon, smiling goofily and stared at Devon. She felt like clapping her hands at Devon because he was a really good dancer.

Blake quickly floated through the crowd after Ro and Devon and reached them in time to see Ro acting like an idiot. "Idiot!" Blake floated up next to Ro. "You're supposed to be dancing. Not just standing there staring at Devon like a retard!" Blake shouted at her. "Lame."

Ro giggled at Blake. "But I don't know how..."

Devon smiled and took Ro's hands. "Don't be so nervous...just let the music move you. That's how you dance." He said as he moved Ro's hands back and forth to start with.

Ro giggled and smiled at Devon as they began to sway back and forth. "Okay!" She shouted over the music.

"That's the beauty and power of music. It can make you move your body without even thinking about it. Music resonates with people's souls." Devon shouted over the music with a chagrined expression on his face. It was hard to have a deep conversation in the middle of a dance club.

Blake smacked a hand to his forehead as he watched Devon and Ro dance together like a couple of middle school kids. "Ugh...what are you doing? You're both acting like a couple of twelve-year-olds! Don't you see how everyone _else_ is dancing? Go ahead and copy them, Ro." Blake instructed.

"Okay." Ro said as she looked around at all of the people dancing interestedly. She began copying some of the moves she was observing from an African-American guy who was busting out some hip-hop moves first. Next, Ro copied a girl who was doing a disco line dance like she was in the movie _Night at the Roxbury_ or something. Ro copied people doing funny dances like the 'chicken dance', and the 'sprinkler' too.

Devon chuckled at Ro's antics. _This girl is so weird! But in a good way._

Blake groaned as he watched Ro's silly dancing. "No! No! You idiot! Copy some woman who is dancing in a _sexy_ manner. Copy..." Blake looked around the dance floor for an appropriate example and spotted one couple that seemed to fit the bill. Nassira and her date were doing a good job of steaming up the dance floor. "Her! Copy her!" Blake instructed Ro as he pointed to the couple.

Ro searched the dance floor for the couple Blake meant and spotted one particularly sensual couple. Nassira and her boyfriend - a handsome, buff man from Spain with curly black hair and dark eyes - were dancing very close, their hands were all over each other, and they stared into each other's eyes lustfully. They kissed each other frequently as they danced and couldn't seem to keep their hands off of each other. Ro watched as Nassira turned around to put her back to her boyfriend and slid down his body before standing back up.

The drunken Ro squinted at Nassira as she did that sexy move, and did her best to copy it. Ro dizzily spun around and put her back to Devon, leaning back and pressing her body against his as she slid down his body and then back up again. However, as she came back up she ended up stepping on Devon's foot and hit the underside of his chin with the top of her head.

BAM! "Ow!" Devon complained as he rubbed his sore jaw. That had really hurt.

Ro spun around and looked at Devon with wide eyes. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry..."

Devon rubbed his chin and laughed. "Naw, it's okay..."

"Idiot..." Blake said rubbing his temples out of frustration. Ro was supposed to be seducing Devon on the dance floor not almost knocking his teeth out!

"Maybe you should just follow my lead," Devon suggested as he reached out and took Ro's arms and wrapped them around his neck. Ro felt her face heating up at the close physical contact. She had never been that close to a man of her own freewill before.

"That's more like it. Now, press your body closer to his." Blake ordered imperiously.

Ro did as Blake instructed her absentmindedly and not really even realizing that she was obeying Blake's every word as if she were in a trance. Ro and Devon began to dance very close to each other until their bodies were moving against each other, swaying to the beat.

"Now, look up into his eyes." Blake commanded.

Ro tilted her head up and stared into Devon's eyes.

Devon smirked and leaned forward-

_Ehhh?_ Ro's hazy mind wondered what Devon was trying to do.

"Let him kiss you." Blake was nodding in approval. Now they were finally getting somewhere.

_Ehhh? Kiss me? But I don't want him to kiss me! I don't even know him!_ Ro thought, beginning to panic internally.

Devon leaned forward, and pressed his lips against Ro's. The medium immediately froze up as if she'd been turned to stone. Devon began to languidly move his lips against hers but Ro did not respond. She was too stunned to do anything.

"Idiot! Kiss him back! Gah!" Blake complained, throwing his hands up into the air.

Devon pulled back and put his hands on Ro's shoulders as he gave her a confused look. "Are you toying with me?"

The blood drained from Ro's face at the thought. "No...I don't even know what I'm doing..." Ro's voice began to quaver.

Devon let go of Ro's shoulders and gave her a scrutinizing look. "I don't believe you."

"Ah, we blew it..." Blake let out a huff as he ran his hand back through his wild, platinum blonde hair.

Devon sighed. "Look. How would you like to go out on a date with me tomorrow so we can get to know each other better? It's a little hard to get to know someone at a nightclub, I think." He gave Ro a reassuring smile.

Ro let out a breath of relief. "Sure. I'd like that."

Devon's smile widened. "Good. Then it's settled. I'll pick you up at your place at nine o'clock tomorrow morning. I'll call you in the morning to work out the details. Give me your phone number." Devin said as he whipped out his smart phone.

Ro obligingly gave Devon her cell phone number.

"You're doing an awful job of seducing him, you know. You'd get a shitload more of information out of him during pillow talk." Blake complained.

_Seduce? Pillow talk?_ Ro thought, panicky. "Well, now that that's settled...I...I...need some air!" Ro said as she took off running through the crowd, knowing that Blake would follow her.

"Ro? What is it? What's wrong? Where are you going?" Blake floated after her, concern etched into his handsome features.

Ro whirled around and glared at the rockstar ghost. "I need to speak with you. Alone. Right now." Ro hissed in a low voice, head lowered so no one could see her lips moving.

"Okay...the roof here is nice and secluded. No one ever goes up there. I used to go up there when I just wanted to be alone and have a smoke. Follow me." Blake said and took off, floating through the crowd.

Ro followed Blake through the chaotic mass of people dancing, drinking, and kissing, up the back stairs and out of a door that opened out on the roof of the club. The roof was fenced off so that drunken club goers wouldn't fall off accidentally. There were potted plants decorating the area and some nice teak benches. It had a romantic yet lonely atmosphere. Blake led the way over to a bench. "Take a seat."

Ro stalked over to Blake and clenched her fists at her sides. "No, thank you. How dare you...?!"

Blake raised an eyebrow at the emotional girl. "What? What are you so angry about?"

"You...you wanted me to...s-s-seduce Devon, didn't you?" Rosalie's voice trembled. "That's what you were making me do!"

"Well, yea, duh...how else are you supposed to get _close_ to Devon and investigate him? Devon is a pretty _loose_ guy. And you don't look half bad tonight, so I think he'd do you. What's the problem? You might as well get a little _fun_ out of all of this too. It's not like you're a virgin or anything..." Blake chuckled at the thought.

"Do me? Fun?" Ro approached Blake, raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face. However, since Blake was a ghost Ro's hand went right through thin air and she ended up crashing to the ground, and skinning her arm and leg badly as she fell.

"Ro!" Blake cried out in concern. "Idiot!"

Ro sniffled from her prone position on the rooftop. Her ice-blue eyes began to fill up with tears. "How could you put me in that kind of situation? Using me to seduce some guy?! Someone I don't even know, or trust, or love! What kind of girl do you think I am? I can't just sleep with some guy just for kicks! And yes - I'm a virgin! I'm saving myself for marriage!"

The image that Blake had created in his mind about Ro suddenly crumbled. _Huh?_ "Hah? A virgin? You've got to be kidding me! How old are you again?"

"I'm twenty-two." Ro let out a loud hiccup.

"A twenty-two-year-old virgin? You've got to be shitting me..." Black ran his hands back through his hair and looked up at the sky overhead. The sky was pitch black and dotted with silvery stars. A few gray clouds were overhead blocking out the moonlight. "No one's a virgin by that age, unless they're hideous! What the fuck were you doing in college?"

"Studying..." Ro muttered.

"Right...so, you're a virgin. Right. I get it." Blake was trying to process the information in his brain...it wasn't really computing...

A virgin...they still exist? It's like finding a unicorn...or something. I mean, come on! How the hell was I supposed to know she was a virgin? I just assumed she wasn't because of her age...

_And if it's true and she's a virgin then I've been acting like a total dick!_ Blake looked at Ro as if she were a strange alien being. "So, wait, you've never had an orgasm?"

"Orgasm?" Ro repeated.

Blake raised an eyebrow at the gloomy girl. "You've never masturbated before?"

Ro turned bright red once she figured out what Blake was talking about. She was a nurse after all. She knew about the body's functions. "No...of course not..." _Oh my God! I can't believe he just asked me that, perverted rockstar ghost!_

"You're probably like the only virgin your age in America..." Blake mused aloud. "You're so...old-fashioned. No, archaic."

"Shut up! That can't be true..." _All unmarried women should be virgins...right?_

"A virgin...now, I don't know how to talk around you..." Blake mused aloud feeling awkward. "Can I still swear? Can I still talk about sex?"

"Just talk normally!" Ro shot back, feeling totally embarrassed.

"No way!" Blake shot back.

"Um, excuse me, Miss? Who are you talking to?" Came a scratchy voice.

Ro spun around to encounter a man in his early fifties with a buzz cut and who was wearing a leather jacket, jeans and sneakers. He had a guitar case strapped to his back. Blake's eyes widened and he breathed out: "Oh my fucking God, it's Flea...from _The Red Hot Chili Peppers_."

Ro became equally impressed when she realized just who it was before her. Blake had a poster with this guy on it back at his penthouse! She looked next to Flea and saw a young man with dark brown hair and sad blue eyes, who looked awfully familiar. It was Ro's turn for her eyes to widen when she realized just who was standing next to Flea. "River Phoenix..."

Flea stiffened at Ro's words, approached Ro with swift steps, and grabbed the girl by her shoulders. "What was that, girl? Who were you just talking to? Who did you just see?"

"I...um...no one..." Ro lied, beginning to panic and getting afraid of this intimidating man.

Flea noticed that Ro was getting afraid of him and took a step back from her while releasing her. He let out a heavy sigh and ran his hand back over his buzzed hair. "Look. I watched you talking to someone...invisible. And just now you said 'River Phoenix'. I won't tell anyone. Just...tell me the truth. _Please_."

Ro looked up and met Flea's sincere eyes. "I'm a medium. I can see ghosts. I was talking to Blake White just now and River Phoenix is standing right next to you."

River's eyes narrowed at Ro. "You can see me, babe? No fucking way...shit. Please...tell my friend Flea that I appreciated how he went with me to the hospital in the ambulance. Tell him I said 'thanks for being with me at the end, man'. Just like that."

"River wants me to tell you this: 'thanks for being with me at the end, man'." Ro informed Flea.

Flea staggered backwards and then began to laugh brokenly. "Shit...no shit? He said that? Is he okay? Why's he a ghost?"

"Why are you a ghost?" Ro asked River.

River sighed. "I...left this world too soon. I want to wait until my friends die so that we can cross over together. I don't want to cross over alone. Friendship is the most important thing to me. More important than anything."

Ro repeated River's words.

Flea smiled brokenly. "He would say something like that...fuck...this is crazy, but I always came here waiting for something like this to happen. Thank you, miss." Flea let out a relieved breath, a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Ro nodded.

"Ro!" Came a call from the door to the roof as Devon stepped out onto the roof. He spotted Ro and ran over to her. "Hey, what happened, babe? What are you doing up here?" Devon spotted Flea and his eyes widened. "Flea? No fucking way!"

"So much for this being like a secret spot." Flea chuckled at the medium and guitarist, "I'm outta here. Thanks again, miss. I owe you one." Flea said as he stalked past the stunned Devon and Ro, and made his way back down the stairs to the club.

Devon looked Ro overly concernedly and noticed her scraped up arm and leg. "You're hurt."

"I fell..." Ro explained and Devon gave her a skeptical look. "I'm drunk..." Ro said as further explanation. She did feel kind of dizzy.

Devon didn't completely believe Ro that that was all that had happened to her. Had Flea hurt her? No. Flea was a good man. But perhaps there had been someone else on the roof? A deep scowl formed on Devon's face. "I'll take you home. I'll have someone bring my car to the club. Let's go." Devon took Ro by the arm and began to lead her off the roof while still looking around the rooftop suspiciously. He couldn't explain it, but he knew that someone else was still there...hiding. _The fucking coward..._ Devon grit his teeth.

"Hey, we weren't done talking yet...jerk..." Blake called after Devon, shaking his fist at him.

Devon led Ro out of the club and made a phone call for someone to bring his car to the club. At the entrance of _The Viper Room_ the medium and guitarist waited for Devon's car to arrive. It was pretty cold out and Ro rubbed her arms against the chill. She wished she had brought a jacket with her.

Devon noticed Ro's unease. "Tch...why don't girls ever wear warm clothes? They'll wear such skimpy clothes even at the end of Fall."

Devon took off his long, feathered, black trench coat and put it on Ro's shoulders.

Ro was touched by Devon's gentlemanly action. _Maybe he's not so bad._ "Thank you, Devon."

"Don't mention it, babe." Devon said in his drawling tone.

In fifteen minutes, Devon's car pulled up in front of them - a stunning, midnight blue, Aston Martin with tan leather interior. The professional driver got out and tossed Devon the keys. Devon caught them easily. "Thanks, man."

"No problem, sir." The driver said with a nod.

Devon unlocked his car and helped Ro into the front passenger's seat. Devon got into the driver's seat, put the key into the ignition and started the car. He pulled out onto the road and made his way down the street. "So where do you live, babe?"

"The Chateau Marmont Hotel," Ro replied with a hiccup.

Devon's hands clenched around the steering wheel but he kept his eyes on the road. "Oh...what room number?" He tried to sound casual.

"It's the one-bedroom penthouse suite on the 7th floor, room number 701." The drunken Ro slurred.

"FUCK..." Blake muttered darkly to himself. Devon knew that Blake had rented the penthouse suite at the Chateau Marmont Hotel. Blake had never once invited his band mates to his penthouse, however...

But that had been for their own safety. Blake had become a singer in order to be in the public eye and kept his real name to try and lure out his parents' murderer by using himself as bait. This was why Blake had been unable to let anyone get too close - not eve his best friends.

Blake's plan had been to invite his band mates over to his place to practice _after_ he had caught his parents' murderer. This was why the singer had a drum set, an electric guitar and a bass guitar at the penthouse suite. Blake had purchased those instruments for the band - for his _friends_. But now they'd never know about that.

Images of Blake's parents' burning corpses in his mansion home surfaced in Blake's mind painfully...a painful reminder that no one close to him was safe...

Blake's photograph was everywhere in the penthouse...how would Ro explain that?! Should she just tell Devon that she was a huge fan of his? And that that was also why she sounded a lot like Blake when she sang? The ghost pulled at his hair in frustration. "Argh!"

Devon remained silent for the rest of the drive to Chateau Marmont Hotel. The guitarist parked his Aston Martin in the hotel's underground garage. Then he and Ro entered the hotel and rode the elevator to the 7th floor. The medium and the guitarist got out of the elevator and walked down the hall to room 701. Ro walked ahead of Devon and the guitarist was keeping a few steps behind her. He eyed her keenly when she punched in the pass code into the digital door lock and the door opened. Ro stepped inside of the penthouse first and flipped on a light switch. "Honeys, I'm home!" Ro called out.

"Meeeowww!" Came the sound of five meowing cats. Black cats started popping their heads out all over the living room and came running at Ro.

Devon froze in shock. "Cats...!? What the?"

Ro bent over to greet her pets. "Lucky, Luna, Percy, Dulce, and Spottie. Mama's home. Did you miss me?" She cooed at her pets in her 'baby voice'.

"Blake would die-" Devon cut himself off with a cough.

"Already did that." Blake said sarcastically.

Devon stepped inside the penthouse and closed the door behind him. He looked at all of the Blake White posters that were still on the walls and tried to keep a straight face.

"Ro, tell Devon that you decided to rent this suite because you knew it was mine. You're a huge fan of me and that's why your voice even sounds like mine!" Blake ordered Ro.

Ro froze and seemed to suddenly realize how _stupid_ she was to bring Devon to Blake's penthouse suite! The medium stood up straight. "Ah, did you ever come here? I'm sure Blake had you and the band over before. After Blake died I found out that this place was available for rent and so I decided to rent it. I also decided to buy everything in it. I am a huge fan of Blake White...that's why my voice even sounds like his...I've tried so hard to emulate him." Rosalie stuttered over her explanation.

"Is that so?" Devon drawled as he walked further into the room and eyed the instruments there: the drum set, the electric guitar, and the bass guitar. "Blake never actually invited the band here...but I knew he had a place here. It really surprised me when you told me this was your place now..." Devon's lips thinned into a grim line.

Ro blinked. "He never invited you here? But that makes no sense...these instruments..." Ro looked at Blake intensely, who looked away and wouldn't meet Ro's gaze. "I'm sure he had his reasons, but...I'm sure these instruments were for you guys to practice with. Maybe Blake was just waiting for the right time to invite you guys here."

Devon reached his hand out towards the electric guitar but didn't touch it. "Maybe..."

"Ow..." Ro said.

Devon turned around and eyed Ro concernedly. "What's wrong?"

"My arm..." Ro raised her scraped forearm and looked at it with a confused expression on her face. She was so plastered she couldn't even remember when she had fallen down. "Huh? How did I...?"

"Come on, silly. We should get that treated." Devon grabbed Ro's hand and pulled her towards the bathroom. Ro allowed the guitarist to drag her to the bathroom and even let him open the door and flick on the light switch. Devon let go of Ro's hand and went over to the medicine cabinet that was over the sink and pulled out the first-aid kit.

Ro was watching Devon absentmindedly until her blood suddenly chilled in her veins. Devon had just said that Blake had never invited him to his apartment - but then how had Devon known where the bathroom was and that there was a first-aid kit in the medicine cabinet?

Devon turned around to face the frozen Ro, who took a step back. "How did you know where the bathroom was...and the first-aid kit, if you've never been here before?" Ro asked, her voice trembling.

Devon sighed and ran a hand back through his dark blue hair. "You'd be surprised by how similar these penthouses are laid out and _everyone_ in the band keeps their first-aid kit in the medicine cabinet. Manager Brody told us to do so."

"Oh..." Ro said, thinking that made sense.

Devon walked over to Ro and grabbed her shoulders and maneuvered Ro over towards the toilet so that she could take a seat on the toilet seat. He then began to dress her wounds.

Ro remained silent and tried to stay composed, but she was totally freaked out. Devon was acting so suspicious. He could have really killed Blake, but...she needed more proof. She needed more evidence or to get him to confess to be sure. Devon finished tending to her arm and leg, and stood up.

Ro looked up at him. "Thank you."

Devon smiled charmingly, leaned over, cupped Ro's cheek and kissed her.

"Fucking pervert..." Blake growled.

Ro's eyes went wide.

Devon pulled back after a few seconds. "I better get going...unless you want me to stay?" The guitarist said in a deep, husky voice and licked his lips unconsciously.

Ro watched as his tongue came out and wet his lower lip as if it happened in slow motion. It was an incredibly sexy move and had butterflies fluttering in Ro's stomach. She swallowed and shook her head. _Epp! I can't let myself just give in to the moment! I'm not like that. This isn't like me!_ She gave Devon a panicked look.

Devon chuckled at her obvious fearfulness. "Don't look so worried. I'll let you off the hook this time because you're injured but...the next time you decide to tease me AND invite me back to your apartment - I won't hold back. I am a man, you know, Ro..." Devon reached out and fondled a strand of Ro's black hair. "And you are a beautiful woman. It's very hard for me to control myself around you." Devon let go of the strand of hair and straightened. "I'll pick you up here at nine tomorrow morning...and we'll go on our date. I hope you like adventure sports...that's my hobby!" Devon grinned broadly.

Ro just stared after Devon as he left the bathroom before letting out a breath of relief and putting her face in her hands. Her wobbly legs gave out from under her and she sank to the cold, titled floor on her knees. _Oh my God! I think Devon Decayn murdered Blake White...!_

Now all I need is proof...

### Chapter 9: Where Eagles Dare

Ro had set her alarm to go off at eight o'clock AM the next morning. When her alarm went off a radio station began to play. That morning, the popular rock music station wasn't playing _Erotic Corpses_ but something from _The Necromancers_! The song was called ' _Obey Me!_ ' and the lyrics pretty much consisted of Sadie Skellington yelling at people to: 'Obey and Submit to my will!' and 'Rise and obey me!'. _The Necromancers_ were becoming more and more popular lately. Ro moaned and stretched her arms over her head.

"Those fucking posers can't hold a candle to _Erotic Corpses_." Blake groused, with an immature pout on his face that made him look younger than he was.

"Mmhmm." Ro agreed absentmindedly with a nod as she turned her head to see Blake lying in the bed next to her.

"Ahhh!" Ro screamed shrilly.

Blake plugged his ears with his fingertips. "Shut up! You're way too loud this early in the morning, beggar girl! Do we really have to go through this every fucking morning? Geez. If only you could be this loud when you speak to other people instead of speaking like a scared little mouse."

Ro stopped screaming and glared at Blake with an indignant expression on her face. "Get out of my room, rockstar ghost!" Ro picked up her pillow and threw it at Blake.

It hit him right in the face - but sadly just passed right through him...

Blake cackled at that.

"Jerk..." Ro got out of bed and started for the bathroom. She turned to send Blake a death glare. "If you try to peep on me...I'll ignore you, and I won't go on this stupid date with Devon!"

Blake put his hand behind his head and looked sheepish. "Peeping on a virgin? That's just wrong..." Blake was so used to girls in the entertainment industry being 'whores' and 'sluts' that he didn't know what to make of the 'unicorn virgin' Ro Ripper.

Ro's cheeks turned pink as she ran into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She put her back to the door and tried to calm her racing heart. Ever since Blake had discovered she was a virgin he had been treating her so differently...

A tiny smile unconsciously formed on her face. Ro shook her head and stripped off her cat pj's. She stepped into the shower and turned the hot water on. She was going to go on a date with Devon Decayn...murder suspect number one. She just needed to get a confession out of him or proof, and then this nightmare would be over. Devon had known where Blake's bathroom was and the first-aid kit - despite never having been to Blake's penthouse. _So suspicious._ Devon could be a murderer! Ro began to tremble in fear at the thought and wrapped her arms around her torso. She was so freaked out.

Ro finished her shower and stepped onto the freezing cold tiles. She quickly wrapped a towel around her body and began to wash her face and brush her teeth. After she was finished she cautiously opened the bathroom door, took a step out into the bedroom, and peered around the room. She let out a breath of relief when she saw that Blake wasn't there. She went over to the closet, which was now filled with expensive designer clothes.

She frowned as she pondered what you be appropriate attire to wear on her 'date'. A date...she'd never been on a date before. She couldn't help but be nervous.

Devon had mentioned something about 'adventure sports'. What had he meant by that exactly? She pondered a bit more and decided that she probably shouldn't wear a dress.

Ro decided to wear a pair of tight, designer blue jeans, a black long-sleeved shirt with a gothic cross on it that glittered with rhinestones, and a pair of lace-up knee boots. She wore a black choker with a medieval cross and a pair of earrings that were tiny angel wings. Ro did her makeup like Carrie had taught her and made her eyes smoky and left her lips natural.

The medium exited the bedroom and made her way into the living room where Blake was reclining on the black leather sofa in a sensual manner. It was moments like that when the ghost was acting human that it was easy to forget that he was actually dead. Ro realized she had stopped in her tracks and sucked in a breath at the sight of the handsome ghost.

Ro's black cats ran towards her when they caught sight of her. "Meeowww!"

Blake looked up and took in her outfit with a nod. "You don't look half bad, beggar girl. You almost look like a real rockstar chick. I'm sure Devon will approve. Hopefully he doesn't approve too much though." A shadow fell over Blake's face as he thought about the bold Devon and the shy Rosalie going on this date. No! It wasn't a date! It was an murder investigation! "I wonder if her shirt is too tight..." He muttered to himself darkly.

Ro bent down to greet her cats, scratched them behind their ears, and patted them on their heads. "You guys must be hungry..." Ro made her way over to the pantry and got out a bag of _Purina_ _Cat Chow_. She put five new silver pet bowls (Carrie had ordered them online) on the kitchen counter and put a half a cup of cat food in each bowl before setting the bowls down on the floor.

Blake watched the cats eat ravenously. "You know, you might as well give the cats _Fancy Feast_. We can afford it." Blake said, offhandedly.

"Fancy Feast?" Ro quirked her head at Blake.

"Yea, you know..." Blake waved his hands in front of him. "Like in the commercials where the white Persian cat eats _Fancy Feast_ out of that tall crystal cup."

Ro shook her head. "I don't watch much TV..."

Blake threw his hands up into the air. "Argh...you are so weird. It's a kind of canned gourmet cat food. Supposedly, it's the best. And I've never settled for less than the best." Blake puffed out his muscular chest.

"Ah, dry food is healthier." Ro deadpanned.

Blake's eye twitched in irk. This girl really didn't know how to _live_ a little.

"But thank you for the offer." Ro smiled brightly at the rockstar ghost. It was unusual for him to be so generous.

Blake was taken aback by Ro's rare smile and scratched the back of his head. "Ah, don't mention it..." Sometimes the gloomy girl's smile could be surprisingly radiant.

Ro began to pour herself a bowl of cereal and Blake snorted. "You're a millionaire now Ro and all you want for breakfast is cornflakes? Why don't you make yourself some pancakes or French toast or something a little more extravagant?" Blake waved his hand through the air in an impatient gesture.

"I'm fine with cereal." Ro replied dryly. She was still feeling uncomfortable with living in Blake's penthouse and spending his money. She hadn't even done anything to help Blake yet in order to deserve all this. She realized she felt guilty. Ro approached Blake's complex and expensive coffee and espresso maker next. So this was the _Lamborghini_ coffee maker with the gear-shift handle that Blake had mentioned. It was even more impressive than she had imagined. Ro looked at it, at a loss of what to do. "Er...how do I-?"

"You don't know how to use that do you?" Blake crossed his arms over his chest and gave Ro a superior look. "I guess there's no helping it, I'll teach you how to work the coffee maker. Be honored, beggar girl."

Ro looked at Blake closely and saw that he was trying to offer his help to her in a nonchalant manner. She smiled at him again.

_That_ was bad for the heart. Blake decided as he stumbled back a step. It was probably a good thing he was already dead and couldn't have a heart attack. The singer cleared his throat and began instructing Ro how to use the coffee machine. Chaos ensued. Blake ended up yelling at Ro 'do that' and 'don't do that', but ultimately they ended up bursting out laughing at the silliness of it all. How complex was it to make a cup of coffee in the morning?

They were just beginning to relax and enjoy each other's company when there was a knock at the door. Ro jumped and looked at Blake - both knew it had to be Devon.

Ro reluctantly dragged her feet to the door and opened it. Standing in the doorway was none other than the ruggedly handsome lead guitarist of _Erotic Corpses_ : Devon Decayn. Devon was wearing his signature, short black leather jacket that had spikes on it, a dark blue t-shirt with a glittering skull, a pair of ripped blue jeans and a pair of combat boots. A lit cigarette was dangling between his lips. His dark blue hair had been gelled to perfection.

Ro sucked in a breath. She couldn't help but admit to herself that Devon looked hot.

Devon took off his aviator sunglasses and reached out to cup Ro's cheek. "Good morning, babe. You look nice." Devon complimented before leaning forward and kissing Ro right on the lips.

Ro's eyes widened and she froze in shock.

"Hey! Hey! I never knew you were such a perverted bastard, Devon!" Blake swung a punch at Devon that passed straight through the guitarist's head.

Devon pulled back and a cocksure smile formed on his face. He chuckled as he made his way past Ro and entered the penthouse suite with swaggering steps. "Mmmm that smells like coffee. Mind if I have a cup?"

Ro unfroze, closed the door which automatically locked, and turned around. "No, go right ahead."

"Don't mind if I do." Devon walked over to the kitchen cabinets and opened the correct cabinet before taking out a coffee mug. He walked over to the coffee machine and began to make himself a coffee. He noticed Ro's cup of perfectly brewed coffee. There was foam on top that even had the pattern of a leaf on it. Devon raised an eyebrow at the perfect cup of coffee. "I'm surprised you figured out how to use this monster coffee maker. This was Blake's, wasn't it? That spoiled jackass...I'm not surprised he started his day with pretty designs in the milk foam of his morning coffee." There was a bitter tone to Devon's voice.

Ro didn't really know what to say to that and so took a seat at the kitchen island. She took her coffee cup in her two hands and warmed her chilled fingers. It felt nice. It was a bit chilly inside the penthouse despite the fact that Blake told her she could turn up the heat if she wanted to.

"It's kind of cold in here. Why don't you turn the heat up?" Devon asked as if reading her thoughts.

"Ah, I'm trying to conserve on heat in order to lower the heating bill." Ro blurted out without thinking since it was something she had done automatically back at her own apartment. During the winter months which were always the hardest for Ro to get through Ro would wearing her jacket while inside, fill plastic bottles with boiling water to put under her comforter at night and then use that water in the morning to make her morning coffee in order to also conserve on water.

"Idiot! You're a _millionaire_ now." Blake spat at her. "You don't need to do silly things like conserve heat anymore!"

Devon raised an eyebrow at Ro's statement. "Aren't you rich? You'd have to be to afford a place like this...and your clothes - they're all _Armani_ and _Prada_ aren't they?"

Ro flinched and quickly tried to act natural. "Ah, that's right...I'm rich. Very rich. But just because I'm rich doesn't mean I should become careless about the environment!" The medium passionately exclaimed.

"Nice cover." Blake gave Ro a thumbs-up.

"Environment?" Devon pressed a button on the coffee machine and coffee began to pour into his mug. "You're such a kind girl, aren't you?" There was sarcasm dripping from Devon's tone of voice.

Ro remained silent as Devon steamed some milk and added it to his coffee. Using a spoon he made a heart shape with his foam and showed it to Ro. "Here, this one suits you better." He swapped their coffees.

"Ah, thank you." Ro took a sip of the coffee. It was nice and warm and sweet.

Devon watched her curiously. "You're very trusting aren't you?" The guitarist said as he crushed the remains of his cigarette out in an ashtray.

"Hmmm?" Ro asked.

Blake frowned at that comment. Had that been a threat? The ghost narrowed his eyes at Devon.

"No, it's nothing." Devon began to drink his coffee.

The medium and guitarist drank their coffee together in silence. A few minutes later, Devon set his cup down and stood up. "Let's go."

Ro set her mug down as well and stood up to join him. "Alright."

"Make sure you bring a jacket - it's cold out." Devon advised.

Ro nodded and went to the closet, pulling out a leather jacket before putting it on.

Devon nodded at her choice of outfit before turning towards the door. He exited first and Ro followed behind him. But as Ro began to walk towards the elevator Devon reached out and grabbed her wrist to stop her.

Ro turned to look at him questioningly.

"Follow me." Was all Devon said as he pulled Ro towards the stairs instead - he had this vice grip on her wrist.

Blake floated behind the couple with a scowl on his handsome face, wondering what Devon was up to...and had this uneasy feeling swirling in his chest.

Devon pulled Ro onto the stairway and tugged her along with him up the stairs and to the roof. Ro's heart began to hammer nervously in her chest. Why was Devon taking her to the roof? Was he going to push her off it? Was he going to kill her? _Oh my God._ Ro paled.

Devon opened the door to the roof and pulled Ro outside. The medium blinked - the roof of the Chateau Marmont Hotel was wide open and had a helipad with an actual helicopter on it. Devon began to drag Ro towards the helicopter and her eyes widened in fear.

"Um, Devon, what-!" Ro stuttered as she pulled back on Devon's fierce grip - she would have bruises on her pale skin tomorrow.

"We're going on our date...but first we have to arrive at the date venue. I decided I'd fly us there." Devon explained casually but his grip on her wrist did not loosen.

"F-F-Fly?" Ro squeaked. She couldn't fly in a helicopter! She was afraid of heights!

Devon opened the passenger side door of the helicopter and began to help Ro inside. But Ro stopped in her tracks. "Devon, no, I can't...I'm afraid of heights," The medium objected.

A slightly sadistic smile curled Devon's lips. "Even better...maybe you'll speak honestly with me for once - once we're up in the sky hundreds of feet above the ground."

"W-What?" Ro squeaked as Devon forced her inside of the helicopter with one last shove and shut the door.

Devon quickly got into the pilot's side of the helicopter and took a seat. He reached over Ro's body and helped her to put her seatbelt on without having been asked to assist her. Ro felt like she was suddenly trapped inside of the helicopter as the seatbelt clicked and her breathing began to speed up.

Devon didn't back away from Ro as he buckled her seatbelt. "You're not going anywhere, Ro Ripper." Devon promised, his smoky and now coffee-scented breath washing over her face. "You're mine."

Ro gave Devon a nervous look.

"For today." Devon said with a chuckle.

Blake floated inside of the helicopter and took a seat in the back. He crossed his arms over his chest and crossed his legs. He couldn't figure out what the hell Devon was up to. He was acting like a total asshole. Did he suspect that Ro knew that he was Blake's murderer? Had Ro gotten in over her head? _Shit..._

Ro let out a breath of relief when Devon pulled away from her and began to make the needed preparations for takeoff. Devon put on a pair of headphones and helped Ro to put on a pair as well. The helicopter's blades began to spin and Devon pulled up on the Collective Controls so that the helicopter began to rise vertically.

Ro gripped her hands together on her lap until her knuckles turned white. She was absolutely terrified. She felt faint and sick to her stomach. Was she going to throw up or pass out? _I'm going to die. Someone...please, help me._ Ro began to tremble in her seat.

Devon was too busy taking off to notice Ro's terrified state, but Blake did notice...

Ro was about to start hyperventilating she was so terrified. "Idiot! Ro! Beggar Girl! Pull yourself together!" Blake snapped at her, "Devon's going to notice!"

"I...I can't! I'm terrified." Ro whispered.

Blake sighed heavily before floating next to her and reaching out to put a hand on hers. But his hand just passed through hers. Blake frowned. He couldn't even comfort her properly.

Ro focused all of her attention on Blake's translucent hand. The ghost was trying to comfort her. Blake was dead - someone had killed him - but who?! Had it been Devon? That's what she was trying to find out. She was doing this for Blake...she had to be strong.

"Don't show him your fear. He'll only take advantage of it, Ro." Blake instructed.

Ro took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. _Don't look down...don't look down..._

Devon stopped their ascent and the helicopter began to move forward. All Devon had to do now was keep them on course and they would arrive at their destination in a couple of hours. He looked at Ro out of the corner of his eye. She looked absolutely terrified. _Perfect._ Maybe he'd finally get some honesty out of the sneaky girl.

"Hey, beggar girl. Look out your window." Blake said softly.

Ro shook her head vigorously. "Are you crazy? No way!" She whispered.

"Come on, just do it. Trust me." Blake urged.

Ro turned her head and peeked one eye open before then opening her other eye. Her eyes went wide at the spectacular view. They were soaring over the diverse California landscape, passing over the city, then over a forested area and then towards a mountainous one. Clouds surrounded them and Ro decided that this was what a bird must feel like. Being so high up in the sky and getting to look down on everything. Getting to actually be inside of the white fluffy clouds...was amazing. She felt free and safe with Blake next to her when she should have been terrified. But even if she died she wouldn't be alone. Blake would be there.

Blake stayed right next to her and she turned her head to smile at the ghost. He oddly enough returned her smile unthinkingly.

Devon noticed Ro's sudden change in behavior and frowned.

Ro reached out and put her hand against the glass. "It's beautiful." She said to Blake.

But Devon responded. "You got over your fear pretty fast. What happened? Or was that nervousness just for show? And you're not really afraid of heights? Your personality is very contradictory."

"What?" Ro turned her attention to Devon. "I _am_ afraid of heights...only this...this is amazing..." She tried to explain.

Devon raised an eyebrow at the strange girl and couldn't stop the small smile that appeared on his face. "It is, isn't it? I love flying...I know how to fly a normal plane too. When you get as famous as I am you can afford to have expensive hobbies. Flying...sky diving...scuba diving in the Bermuda triangle. I love to do dangerous adventure sports. It gives me a _rush_. Have you ever felt anything like that before?" He asked passionately, lost in the moment, his suspicions of Ro momentarily forgotten.

Ro forced a smile. "You mean...like right now?"

Devon chuckled. "Good answer...I'm going to take you somewhere where you'll get to feel a real _rush_. You intrigue me...Ro Ripper. You're full of contradictions and you just popped up out of nowhere right after Blake committed suicide. It's all extremely _convenient_. Your voice...is exactly like his too. When I first heard it, for a second, I actually thought..." Devon gripped the collective and shook his head. "Just who are you, Ro Ripper, really?"

Ro froze. "What do you mean? I'm Ro Ripper...pro stylist..."

"You're not." Devon shook his head. "Ro Ripper is a fake name, isn't it? No one is born with the name of a rockstar. Do you think my name is really Devon Decayn? Pfft. Ro Ripper...are you a nurse? A pro stylist? A singer? Or... _something else_?" A dark cloud fell over the guitarist's face.

Ro noticed this and it was her turn to frown. "I...don't know what you're talking about..."

"We'll see if you continue with your lies when we're two hundred and ninety feet above the ground...I'll get the truth out of you, Miss Ripper. You are not at all what you're pretending to be. You've been trying to get close to me for a reason too, I'm sure of it. I can tell when a girl is really interested in me or if she's after me for some other reason...like my money." Devon reached out and put his hand on Ro's thigh.

Ro flinched and stiffened.

Devon slid his hand up Ro's thigh. "And you're willing to go to great lengths to get what you want. Just how far are you willing to go to get what you want, Miss Ripper?" Devon purred in a husky voice. "And who do you think is going to be the winner of your little game?"

Ro kept very still - as still as a doll. _Blake? What should I do?_ The medium thought in her mind, beginning to panic.

"Put your hand over his, act natural, beggar girl." Blake said in a deep, soothing voice. "If you have his hand you can at least stop it from wandering all over your body."

Ro did as she was told and placed her hand on Devon's and looked him straight in the eye.

Devon immediately removed his hand, let out a heavy sigh, and shook his head. "You're making me feeling like the bad guy here, Miss Ripper. You're so sneaky. But all I want is the _truth_." Devon returned his attention forward. "I need a smoke..." He muttered the last to himself.

_Me too._ Ro thought and remained silent. "Where are we going?" The medium ventured to ask after a couple of hours.

"Alameda." Devon grunted. "We're almost there so don't get your panties in a bunch."

"Where's that? What's there?" Ro asked Blake in a whisper.

Blake shrugged and shook his head. "Isn't it somewhere up north? I have no idea what's up there."

A few minutes later, a bridge that was running over a rushing, gray-blue river came into view in a mountainous area. Devon landed the helicopter right on the bridge and Ro noticed that a group of people were on the bridge apparently waiting for their arrival. Ro noticed that the people had dark blue t-shirts on that read: _Icarus Bungee_. Devon hopped out of the helicopter and stalked over to help Ro out next. "Have you figured out why we're here, yet?" Devon asked as he took Ro's hand and helped her out of the helicopter.

Ro shook her head as she hopped out of the helicopter and landed on the bridge.

"We're going to go bungee jumping." Devon announced. "This jump site is known as Northern California Bridges and the bungee jumping company that's here with us today is _Icaraus Bungee_."

_Bungee jumping?!_ Ro snatched her hand out of Devon's as if she'd been burned.

"Oh no, Miss Ripper, there is no escape," Devon drawled as he grabbed Ro's wrist and dragged her towards the bungee jumping assistant crew.

"Get her ready and get her into a harness." Devon instructed the crew.

Ro was absolutely terrified. She was afraid of heights and Devon wanted her to jump down two hundred and ninety feet from this bridge! The gloomy girl gripped the sides of her head with her hands. The bungee jumping crew readily helped the dazed Ro into a harness.

Devon walked over to Ro and whispered into her ear. "If you tell me the truth about who you really are, I won't make you jump." Devon pulled back and chuckled at Ro's tormented look. The guitarist took out a cigarette, lit it with his Zippo and took a couple of quick drags to steady his nerves for what he was about to do.

Ro gulped. That was so tempting! But she couldn't betray Blake. Ro looked around suddenly wondering where Blake was? He had disappeared.

Meanwhile, Blake was floating around the bridge and watching the _Icarus Bungee_ crew as they checked the bungee equipment. The hair on the back of his neck was prickling in warning. Something felt out of place. He spotted one crewman dressed in black, with dark glasses on his face and with a military style hat pulled low to shadow his eyes. Blake floated over to the mysterious man and watched as he prepared one of the bungee cords.

The man looked to his left and then his right, to make sure no one was watching him before he took out a switchblade. With a flick of his wrist the blade was ejected and he began to saw at the bungee cord until it was cut halfway through.

_What the fuck?_ Blake thought as he watched the man sabotaging the bungee cord. Who the hell was this guy? And were they trying to kill Ro because she knew _the truth_?!

And then Blake noticed something on the back of the man's right hand. A tattoo. A symbol he would NEVER forget - the Baphomet. A pentagram with the devil's beast-like face fit within it perfectly so that one of each of the beast's horns was within a point of the pentagram. The beast's ears filled the other two points of the pentagram and the beast's long, bearded, goat-like chin filled the lowest point of the upside down pentagram.

That symbol...it made Blake stagger backwards and grip his head in horror as it evoked painful memories...memories of his family home - the mansion burning...of discovering his parents' burning corpses...and the man standing there in the living room that was aflame with a twisted smile on his face, a bloody knife in his hand and that tattoo on the back of his right hand visible - the Baphomet! The man who killed his parents was right in front of him!

_Who the fuck are you?_ Was this guy trying to kill Ro?! He had to warn her! Blake flew over to Ro and watched as the man approached Ro and Devon with the faulty bungee cord.

"Ro-" Blake began but then stopped as the man approached _not_ Ro but Devon instead.

Blake watched as the man hooked the bungee cord to Devon's harness with his mouth agape.

Two other bungee jumping assistants connected a bungee cord to Ro's harness next. Ro wasn't the one the assassin was after...it was Devon! But then...that would mean that Devon was innocent! That Devon didn't kill him...that Devon was _still_ his best friend...! _FUCK...!_

Devon tossed his cigarette down on the bridge and stubbed it out with his combat boot. He then turned and saluted Ro suddenly. "I'll show you how it's done first!" Devon declared as he jumped off the bridge-!

"Wait! Devon, no!" Blake cried out and spun to face Ro. "Ro! You have to jump after him! His rope has been cut!"

Ro looked at Blake with wide, fearful eyes. She wanted to help but she couldn't move. She was terrified. "I'm sorry...I can't..."

"Shit!" Blake swore as he jumped into Ro's body and possessed her. When 'Ro' next opened her eyes they were glowing lavender. Blake turned and jumped off the bridge after Devon without a second thought.

Devon fell two hundred and ninety feet when the rope stopped his descent. The guitarist bounced upward and at that moment the bungee cord snapped. Devon realized that something was wrong the instant he felt weightless. _Fuck!_ Devon reached up and tried to grasp the piece of remaining cord as he fell back. He realized then that he wasn't going to make it. He couldn't reach the cord in time. This was it. He was going to go see Blake. "Blake, buddy..." Devon closed his eyes and smiled.

"Devon!" Blake cried and grabbed onto Devon's wrist. "You idiot!"

Devon looked up in shock. Ro had bungee jumped down to him and had managed to grab his wrist in time before she was pulled upwards by the spring of the cord. Devon wanted to rub his eyes when he saw that Ro's ice-blue eyes had changed color and were now a glowing lavender color. _What the hell is going on?_

'Ro' glared at the top of the bridge. "That fucking bastard! Hey! Hurry up and pull us up, you shitheads!" 'Ro' yelled loudly at the bungee jumping crew on the bridge, who immediately moved to comply and began to pull them up with jerky, hurried movements.

Blake looked down at Devon, who was looking up at him with a strange expression on his face. "Hey, you okay, bro?"

"Ro...?" Devon questioned.

Blake realized his mistake and looked back up at the bridge instead while concentrating on holding Devon's wrist and supporting all one hundred and seventy-three pounds of his friend's weight.

Devon watched Ro intensely...just what the hell was going on? Just who was she...? _What_ was she? No girl should be able to hold all one hundred and seventy-three pounds of his weight one handed like that.

The bungee jumping crew pulled Ro and Devon back up on the bridge and Blake left Ro's body immediately since the danger had passed. The assassin was long gone and nowhere in sight. The crew immediately checked Devon and Ro over for injuries.

Ro blinked as she regained control of her body. She had _seen_ everything, of course. She had jumped off a bridge. _Off a bridge..._ Ro swayed on her feet. She suddenly felt woozy. She put a hand to her throbbing head.

She looked up at Devon with pleading eyes that were rapidly filling with tears. "Can you...can you...?" Ro fainted and Devon caught her in his arms using his quick reflexes.

Devon looked down at the perplexing girl in shock. Ro Ripper was definitely an enigma...

One he'd definitely like to solve. He tightened his grip on her possessively.

***

The first thing Ro noticed was that she felt warm, comfortable, and content. "Mmm..." The medium groaned as she came awake and turned her head to see Blake in the bed next to her. Ro slapped both her hands over her mouth to muffle her ensuing scream. Ro looked around the unfamiliar room she was in and realized that this wasn't Blake's penthouse. So then where the hell was she? Ro began to panic.

"You're at Devon's apartment. You fainted and he brought you here. I think he's cooking you dinner." Blake answered Ro's unasked questions with a tinge of amusement to his voice.

_Devon's apartment? Fainted? Dinner...what?!_ Ro's eyes widened as she remembered what happened. Devon's bungee cord had snapped. She gave Blake a questioning look.

Blake sighed and ran a hand back through his wild, platinum blonde hair. "Someone tried to kill Devon Decayn today up on that bridge. Someone connected to my parents' murder."

Ro gasped. "So then Devon is...innocent?" Blake noticed Ro's hopeful tone and his eye twitched.

Blake frowned and shrugged. "It looks that way..."

Ro suddenly smiled brightly at Blake. "I'm so happy for you. Devon didn't betray you after all...!"

"Tch." Blake let out a noise of disgust. "He's still a bastard for going out with Sadie..."

Despite Blake's words, Ro's good mood would not be dampened. "Hmmm...maybe he has a good reason for that." Ro hopped out of the bed and turned a light switch on so that she could get a good look at Devon Decayn's bedroom.

It was so different from Blake's cold bedroom. Devon's room was messy and had a 'lived in' feeling. There were framed photographs everywhere...on his dresser and on his bedside tables. There were band posters of _Erotic Corpses_ on the blue walls...showing all four original members: Blake, Devon, Joey and Vincent. Ro spotted a football team poster that read: _Oakland Raiders_ , and that had a scarred, thug-like football player on it with an eye patch and tattoos.

Ro walked over to Devon's dresser and looked at the framed photographs curiously. She smiled. There were lots of funny photos of Devon, Blake, Joey and Vincent. There were shots of the boys at practice at the studio jamming together, shots of the boys eating out at expensive restaurants, shots of the boys at _The Viper Room_ , of Joey break dancing, of Vincent wooing a girl with a bouquet of roses, of Vincent surrounded by a group of fan girls dressed in gothic outfits, of Devon playing his electric guitar and smoking, of Devon drinking, of Blake looking reluctant to have his picture taken with the others, of Blake singing, and pictures that showed Blake off to the side, alone...acting like a loner...

"Have you ever been to Devon's apartment before?" Ro asked curiously.

"Tch. No shit." Blake snorted as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, you never let your friends come over to your place so...I was just curious." Ro got down on the carpet and pulled out her murder suspect list. She whipped out a _Hello Kitty_ pen and crossed Devon's name off the list. "So Devon is innocent. Now we just have to clear Vincent and Joey!"

"Or discover their guilt." Blake countered grimly.

Ro pouted at Blake's pessimism. "I think your band mates aren't guilty and I'll prove it. You'll see." Ro walked over to Devon's bookshelf and began to run her finger along the book's spines as she perused the titles.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Blake asked giving the medium a worried look.

"Snooping. Isn't that why I'm here? _Master_?" Ro said the last sarcastically as she continued to read the titles of the books until she found what she was looking for - a photo album. Ro placed her index finger on top of it and pulled back on the photo album to remove it from the shelf.

Blake paled. "Put that thing away, beggar girl! Who said you could look at that!" The ghost groused.

Ro laughed softly. "But I'm super curious. You won't tell me anything about your past. All I know is that Devon, Vincent and Joey were your friends since childhood but I don't know much else about them. This will be good for research."

"I've already told you everything you need to know." Black crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. "They're not to be trusted!"

"Right, right." Ro hopped up on the bed, crossed her legs, and put the photo album in her lap. Excited, she opened it to the first page:

There, playing in a sandbox were little six-year-old Blake, Devon, Joey and Vincent! The boys had constructed a sandcastle and Blake had a bucket on his head as though he was pretending to be 'king'. Devon was rolling his eyes at Blake, Joey was crying for some reason, and Vincent was laughing.

"Aww, you were so cute. Even as a kid you were spoiled and arrogant, huh?" Ro joked.

"Hey!" Blake objected.

Ro flipped to the next page: Blake was putting a caterpillar in Joey's hair while Joey was crying. Devon was trying to stop Blake and Vincent was laughing. Off to the side there appeared to be a little girl watching Vincent from behind a tree and blushing.

"Hey, you're always bullying poor Joey!" Ro accused as she tapped her finger onto Joey's crying face in the photo.

Blake whistled innocently as if he hadn't heard her.

Ro frowned. "Did you _always_ bully him? I wonder if that's why he killed you? You sure know how to get people to feel resentful towards you."

"What was that, beggar girl?" Blake growled.

Another photo showed the boys around the age of twelve, in a circle playing hacky sack while Vincent was off to the side and kissing a little twelve-year-old girl! Ro's eyes widened at that. "How old are you guys in this photo!?" She demanded.

"Twelve." The ghost grunted.

"Vincent had his first kiss when he was twelve?!" Ro exclaimed.

Blake laughed. "He lost his virginity when he was fifteen!"

Ro felt faint.

"When did you have your first kiss?" Blake asked Ro in an intent manner.

Ro blushed as she recalled Dr. Cole's stolen kiss and then remembered the time that Blake had kissed her for fun at the 7-Eleven. "That time...at the 7-Eleven..." Ro would never consider Dr. Cole's cruel stolen kiss as her first one. If it was stolen it didn't count and Blake's stolen kiss was different because if she admitted it to herself she had liked it.

"Huh? I can't hear you. Speak up, beggar girl." Blake yelled at her.

"I said: at the 7-Eleven...when you..." Ro blushed and trailed off, biting her lip out of nervousness and embarrassment and was unable to continue.

"Me?" Blake's eyes widened in shock when he remembered how he had kissed Ro to tease her and try to get some kind of a reaction out of the gloomy girl. "No way..." _What the hell?_ _At least Devon hadn't been her first kiss! Ha! Take that, Devon!_

"When was your first kiss?" Ro asked the ghost curiously.

Blake sighed and ran a hand back through his rockstar hair. "When I was fifteen. I had already formed my band _The Nipples_ with Vincent, Joey, and Damion, and a groupie jumped me-"

"Jumped you?"

"What can I say? I was _that_ good looking." Blake shrugged, smug smile on his face.

Ro flipped through the photo album until she came to a page containing photos of the early band: Blake was singing, Joey was playing bass guitar, Vincent was playing the drums and a boy with spiky black hair and dark eyes that had dark shadows beneath them was playing lead guitar. The teenaged boy looked very Goth with his face painted white and his all-black outfit. There was something disturbing about the look in his eyes. "Is that Damion?" Ro pointed to the depressed looking teen.

Blake nodded.

"He's the lead guitarist of _The Necromancers_ now, right?" Ro affirmed.

Blake nodded again in an almost listless manner.

Ro looked at the photos of the original band closely. She found one picture of Damion smiling - only one - and he was looking at Blake with this admiring look.

"Were you and Damion close?" Ro asked as he looked at the Goth teen.

"Naw, he was just some kid I forced into our band because I needed someone who could play guitar and that shithead Devon was too busy with his stupid clubs and sports! Damion was probably happy that I kicked him out of the band - it had all been a whim of mine to begin with." Blake shrugged.

"You kicked him out of the band?" Ro recalled Chelsea saying something about that during the interview, but wanted to get the truth straight from Blake.

"Yea, we were supposed to do this concert during one of our school's assemblies, and Damion was too high on pot to play guitar properly, and so I begged Devon to do it. He saved our ass that day. I was so pissed at that pothead Damion though. He really let us down that day. He couldn't be counted on because he was always high...always smoking or sniffing or injecting _something_. He had this stupid bong collection...." Blake said pensively as he remembered it.

Ro quirked her head at Blake. "Bong?"

"Ah, it's a device you can use to smoke tobacco or marijuana with. I smoked back in high school, but not too often. And just Marlboro Reds. I had to protect my voice after all. That's always been my number one priority..." Blake scowled, now that he was dead it all seemed rather pointless.

Ro looked at a photo of the newly formed band _Erotic Corpses_ next with Blake, Devon, Joey and Vincent. She wondered how Damion _really_ felt about being kicked out of the band when ultimately he had gone on to become a part of _The Necromancers_. So Damion must have had a sincere interest in music at the very least.

Damion was also a murder suspect.

Ro flipped through the album and realized that after the picture of the newly formed band there were no other pictures that contained Damion. It was as if he'd just disappeared from their lives. Ro frowned. It seemed a little harsh. And since she had been on the receiving end of bullying in high school...she felt for the emo, Goth boy.

Ro continued to look at pictures of Blake, Devon, Joey and Vincent during their high school days. In the photos Blake looked like some kind of handsome delinquent. The girls always seemed to be swooning over the singer in the background but he seemed to be ignoring them. In the photos of Devon he seemed to act cool and aloof while concentrating on his sports and then later the band. The photos of Joey showed the young bass guitarist running around laughing, always smiling, and playing pranks. The photos of Vincent showed the handsome Goth surrounded by the entire high school girl population. They probably thought they had their very own Edward Cullen within their midst!

Vincent was always surrounded by a group of fan girls but there were three girls in particular that seemed to always be around Vincent - a fiery redhead, a cute blonde who dressed just like a Victorian Doll, and a mysterious, Asian girl with dark hair.

Ro kept flipping through the album pages and noticed something. Blake appeared to be growing more and more distant from the others as time passed. There were less pictures that contained all four of them by their senior year, and there were mostly pictures of just Devon, Vincent and Joey by that time.

Ro stopped flipping the album pages when she caught sight of a photo of Sadie and Blake. Sadie was clinging to Blake's arm in the photo and he was smiling. He looked genuinely happy.

The medium frowned. Something didn't seem to add up about Sadie and Blake's relationship. Blake had told Ro that it had been a publicity stunt. That he and Sadie hadn't really been going out. But she also knew for a fact that they had had sex. Blake had also told Ro that he didn't care about Sadie, but had that been a lie? Ro removed two photos from the photo album and stuck them into her back jeans' pocket.

"Hey! You can't just take those pictures, dummy! What if Devon notices?" Blake warned.

"Let him notice." Ro said as she hopped off the bed and returned the photo album to Devon's bookshelf. She then tiptoed her way to the bedroom door and opened it as quietly as she could before stepping out into the hallway. Ro could hear the sounds of someone cooking in the kitchen. Ro took a deep breath and began to tiptoe down the hall and towards the front door of the apartment.

However, Ro couldn't help herself from taking a quick peek at Devon's living room. The guitarist's apartment was amazingly decorated with black leather couches that had dark blue pillows on them, an impressive flat screen TV, posters of _Erotic Corpses_ were on the blue painted walls, including posters of Bon Jovi, Jimi Hendrix and Eddie Van Haler - all electric guitarists that Devon admired. There was also a vintage poster of Marcus Allen, running back for the Oakland Raiders on the wall. Behind glass in a display case was a signed football of Roddy White.

What caught Ro's eyes next was the gigantic world map that was on the right hand wall of Devon's living room. Several colored, plastic tacks were stuck in the map in different locations. Apparently, Devon liked to travel a lot. Ro couldn't stop her curiosity and so went up to the map. She found tacks in the following places: the Bermuda Triangle, Mt. Everest, Africa, and Australia. She shuddered. None of those were very _safe_ places.

"Do you like to travel?" Devon's voice came from behind her.

"Ack!" Ro jumped and spun around. "Um...I've never been out of the country."

"Idiot." Blake face-palmed. Was Ro trying at all to pretend to be rich?!

"Really? We might have to change that..." Devon smirked as he came to stand next to her. "If you could go anywhere in the world where would you like to go?"

Ro thought about it and answered. "New Zealand...isn't that where they filmed _The Lord of the Rings_? I recently got to watch that movie and I loved it. I love fantasy stories." Carrie had ordered the movie on Pay-Per-View back at Blake's penthouse.

"New Zealand it is then. When are you free? I'll fly you there." Devon offered casually as he took out a cigarette, lit up, and took a long drag.

Ro put her hands up before her and waved them back and forth. "Oh no, I couldn't possibly-" However-

The doorbell of Devon's apartment sounded. The guitarist frowned as he let out a long stream of smoke. "Now who could that be..?" Devon sauntered over to the door and saw Sadie on the tiny monitor besides the door. "Ugh..." Devon murmured and pressed a button to speak with Sadie through the intercom first. "Come right in, babe." He said before unlocking the door.

"Don't mind if I do." Sadie said as she opened the door.

"It's Sadie." Devon turned around and informed Ro.

Ro bit her bottom lip. "I should really get going." Ro headed for the door but Devon grabbed her wrist to stop her as she tried to pass him.

Devon gave Ro a pleading look. " _Please_ stay for dinner."

Ro hesitated. "But I-"

Sadie burst into the apartment just in time to see Devon with his hand on Ro's wrist. Her smile faltered for a moment before she controlled her expression and remained smiling. "Hello darling! What's _she_ doing here?"

Devon let go of Ro's wrist and turned to face Sadie. He let out a sigh. "Ro fainted during practice and I decided to bring her back to my place since it's closest to the studio."

Sadie stalked up to Ro and glared at her. "Fainted?" She sniffed. "You look alright to me...so why don't you get going?" Sadie did a little shooing motion with her hand.

"I was on my way out." Ro agreed.

"Sadie. Be nice." Devon chided. "Ro and I were just about to have dinner. She really should eat something before she goes. I suspect she's anemic." Devon argued. "So why don't we all sit down to have dinner ladies?"

"The only lady I see here is, Ro." Blake put in making Ro have to suppress a smile.

Sadie and Ro both seemed at a loss of what to do.

"Please." Devon asked Sadie meeting her eyes with an intent look.

Sadie sighed and relented. "Of course that's okay. You're making me look like I'm some kind of bitch, Devon. Ro and I are friends. Isn't that right Ro?" Sadie smiled sweetly at Ro.

The medium smiled back tremulously at the female rockstar.

Sadie grabbed Ro's arm and started to take her to the dining room table. "Come on Ro. Let's go sit down. We'll get Devon to serve us. We have _so_ much to talk about. I barely know you and you're the new lead singer of _Erotic Corpses_! As a fellow female rock singer - I'm just dying to know more about you."

Ro gave Blake a pleading look, which clearly said: 'help me'.

Blake chuckled and shrugged. There wasn't really anything Blake could do except help Ro with her responses to Devon and Sadie's annoying flood of questions!

"Ro, don't forget Sadie is a suspect too. The more information you can get out of her the better." Blake reminded Ro.

_Ah, that's right...Sadie is still suspect. But she seems...nice._ Ro nodded to herself.

Sadie and Ro arrived at the dinning room table and sat down side by side.

"So Ro, you really fainted?" Ro nodded at her and Sadie gave her a pitying look. "My, that's horrible. I've never fainted before. I eat well though I'm this skinny because I have a fast metabolism. Some girls are blessed like that, I guess. While some girls just aren't. I don't know what diet you're on, but maybe you should eat more - you don't want to faint while up on stage! That would be just horrible. But I can understand that you'd want to lose a few pounds." Sadie looked Ro over with a critical eye. "You are about ten pounds overweight. Do you go to the gym?"

Ro shook her head. She'd never been able to afford something like a gym membership.

"Then we should join a gym together!" Sadie clapped her hands together excitedly. "I have a Bowflex at my house, and a rower and a stationary bike." Sadie ticked items off on her fingers. "But it's more fun to go to the gym with one of your girl friends, don't you think?"

Ro just nodded, though she didn't know what it'd be like to go to the gym with a friend.

Sadie gave Ro a penetrating look. "You're not very talkative are you? But it's just so weird. You're an incredible singer and you're really loud when you're singing. That's so strange...I would have figured you'd be the talkative type."

"I don't know why but when I sing...I can lose myself in the music. I don't think and just _feel_ the song and sing. I escape from reality. I don't realize it at the time, but I get louder." Ro admitted because this was actually the truth.

"Oh, I get it." Sadie nodded. "I totally understand. I feel the exact same way. That feeling of getting lost in a song while you're singing it - the rest of the world just tunes out and doesn't matter."

Ro smiled tremulously in agreement.

Devon arrived at the table balancing three plates of pasta on his arms. "Sorry to keep you ladies waiting. I made you my famous seafood pasta." Devon set the plates down in front of Ro and Sadie, and on his place across from them.

Ro looked down at her plate of extravagant-looking pasta - it had shrimps, pieces of lobster, crab, and mussels and vegetables like cubed yellow bell peppers.

Sadie looked down at her plate, smiled, and breathed in deep. "Mmm! This smells and looks delicious! Doesn't it, Ro?"

Ro nodded. She was in awe with Devon's cooking skills and she had never had lobster before. It was simply too expensive!

Sadie looked at Ro slyly. There was something about Ro that just didn't add up and she decided to put one of her theories to the test. "Devon is a great cook. Did you know, he takes lessons? It's one of his other hobbies. He has a lot of them. He also likes going on adventure sports outings like skydiving. Personally, I would never do such a dangerous thing. It just seems...pointless. I much rather go shopping. Shopping is one of the things I'm very good at."

Ro nodded as Devon came over with three champagne glasses and a bottle of champagne.

"I thought I'd break out the bottle of Krug Brut Rosé Champagne that I purchased recently. It's not every day a guy has two beautiful female rockstars gracing his pad with their presence." Devon popped the cork and began to pour the champagne.

"Oh, a Krug Rosé. That cost around two hundred and fifty dollars per bottle, right?" Sadie exclaimed just as Ro was taking a sip-

Ro immediately began to choke and tried _really_ hard not to spit the champagne out. _Two hundred and fifty dollars?!_

"Idiot..." Blake shook his head at Ro. "I give up..."

"Oh, are you okay, Ro?" Sadie slapped Ro's back, which only made her cough harder.

Devon sat down and raised his glass. "A toast to...punk rock!"

"To punk rock." Sadie agreed with a smile and raised her glass. "And heavy metal." She murmured softly to herself.

"To punk rock." Ro softly agreed and raised her glass. They all clinked their glasses and took a sip of the bright orange-pink champagne.

"It's sweet." Ro smiled softly to herself.

"That's why I chose it. At _The Viper Room_ you mentioned you had never tried an alcoholic beverage before so I chose this particular champagne with you in mind, Ro." Devon explained in his drawling tone as he gazed at the medium through his dark lashes.

Ro looked up at Devon in surprise. "Oh...thanks." That was kind of sweet of him...

Sadie whipped her head back and forth between Devon and Ro, and began to grit her teeth in irritation.

"Let's dig in, ladies." Devon said as he began to twirl his fork in his pasta.

"Oh, let's!" Sadie agreed and began to twirl a petite bite. Sadie put the pasta in her mouth and moaned with obvious delight. "Mmm!" Sadie began to groan in pleasure. "Mmm...Devon your cooking makes me wet!"

Ro blushed at the indecent noises Sadie was making, and silently ate her pasta.

"Yes, oh yes!" Sadie cried out, "Devon's pasta is simply...orgasmic."

Ro began to choke on her next bite of pasta at Sadie's comment. Sadie smiled a cat's paw smile to herself.

"Ah, here. It's better to drink water if you're choking." Devon quickly poured Ro a glass of water and handed it to her.

Ro drank the entire glass of water before smiling to herself. Devon was being so nice, and she was so glad that he wasn't Blake's murderer either.

Sadie was getting pissed off that Ro was receiving extra attention from Devon. "This pasta is good, but I can't wait until Ro leaves so that we can have our _dessert_." Sadie purred to Devon and reached across the table to put her hand on his.

Devon smiled at Sadie and nodded. "That's right, babe. We'll have our dessert..." He squeezed her hand and then pulled his hand back. "But you're being rude to our guest. You know how I feel about PDA, Sadie."

"PDA? But that's my middle name, darling!" Sadie laughed looking amused. Devon let out a sigh. Sadie leaned back and looked satisfied as she gave Ro a haughty look as if to say: 'You see, that hottie is mine, so back off bitch'.

Ro felt a little embarrassed by their suggestive conversation...but was happy for the couple, so she smiled at Sadie. Though she did feel inexplicably hurt for some reason. But Sadie was right, she didn't belong there with those two incredible rockstars. Ro wasn't a rockstar. She was a fake. An outsider.

After dinner, Devon began to clear the dishes and Ro abruptly stood up. "I've imposed upon you long enough, Devon. I really need to get going." Ro said in a low dull voice as she quickly made her way to the door.

"Hey, Ro wait-" Devon called after her. He hadn't even gotten to properly thank her for saving his life, but with Sadie there he couldn't say anything.

Sadie got up from the table and latched onto Devon's arm. "Let her go...now we can have some fun. Just the two of us." Sadie purred, turned Devon's head to face her with her hand and then kissed him hungrily.

Devon responded and kissed her back fiercely. Devon pushed Sadie against the kitchen island as he began to succumb to his lust, and she wrapped her legs around his waist boldly. He picked her up easily putting his hands on her tight ass, and put her on the kitchen island and leaned her back. Sadie purposefully knocked the empty wine glasses off the counter with a sweep of her arm, and they fell to the floor shattering loudly.

"Oh yes...yes! You're such a beast, Devon!" Sadie moaned at his every heated caress and racked her nails down Devon's back.

As the door shut behind Ro, she heard the wine glasses break and Sadie's moans of pleasure.

Her face turned beet red. _Violent rockstar sex...!_ She couldn't help but think and gripped her head in her hands. _Ah, someone get the images out of my overactive brain!_

Ro opened her eyes and met Blake's pensive stare as the sound of something else breaking was heard from within Devon's apartment. Ro raised an eyebrow at Blake as if to ask: 'Is that normal?'

Blake chuckled at Ro's worried look and nodded. "Sadie Skellington is a wildcat in the sack." But even as he said this jokingly Ro couldn't help but note the sad, bitter and almost wistful tone in which he said this. "She used to leave scratches all down my back." Blake complained and chuckled. "That bitch..."

But even then to Ro's keen ears, Blake's voice sounded strained. Her cheeks became tinged with pink as unbidden images of Sadie Skellington racking her claws down Blake's back filled her mind.

Blake's laughter changed in tone when he noticed Ro's embarrassment and became more lighthearted. Ro was so fun to tease. _Just look at that face she's making. It's priceless._ _She almost makes me forget..._

***

Several hours later...

Ro sat at a round table that was next to the long bar that was inside of the _The Viper Room_. Blake had woken her up in the middle of the night to inform her that he had seen Leila and Harper leave Wraythe Records together suspiciously, and go for a drink together at the _The Viper Room_. Since Blake thought this was the perfect opportunity for Ro to spy on the two of them and see if she could learn something about his murder he forced Ro out of bed, made her get dressed and drive to the _The Viper Room_.

Ro stifled a yawn as she raised the menu in front of her face to hide as she inconspicuously watched Leila and Harper doing shots at the bar. She would have thought they were celebrating something but their expressions were unhappy. Ro watched intently as the stylist and the driver clinked two shot glasses together before tipping the glasses back and drinking the shots back in one gulp.

"Ah!" Leila slammed her shot glass back down onto the bar counter. "I can't believe that bitch Sadie! She actually crushed a cigarette out on my arm! She's crazy. Look at what she did!" Leila rolled up her shirtsleeve to show Harper the small round burn scar that Sadie had left there.

Harper winced, having sympathy pains. "That's horrible. Sadie is so cruel."

"I know, right? Blake may have been difficult to work with, but he _never_ physically hurt me." Leila said. "Sure we got into some yelling matches but...Sadie yells at me all the time and gets jealous if I give too much attention to Damion. That girl is _so_ in denial. It's obvious she likes Damion but she's going out with Devon...God knows why! She looks all cute and sweet on the outside, but she's a devil on the inside. At least Blake didn't have some split personality..." Leila shuddered. "I resigned today."

Harper was nodding. "Mr. Wraythe fired me today." The driver informed Leila in an equally morose tone.

"What? No!" Leila sounded surprised. "How come?"

Harper let out a defeated little sigh. "He said that the band having a limo was a waste of money - that Blake had been totally overpaying me and what my services are actually worth. Mr. Wraythe said that'd it'd be cheaper to buy a van for the band and have Manager Brody drive the band places where they needed security or to be incognito." Harper explained.

"How much was Blake paying you?" Leila leaned forward, licking her lips, with an interested look on her face.

"$100,000 a year. He always gave me a huge Christmas bonus too." Harper put his head in his hands.

Leila gave Harper a sympathetic look. "Blake was paying me $90,000 a year and he dropped another $50,000 into my bank account after he fired me. I hadn't even realized it until I checked my account..."

"Mr. White was the best boss." Harper said in a wistful voice.

"I know, right?" Leila agreed and picked up a new shot glass and held it up to Harper. "To Blake White!"

Harper picked up a new shot glass and clinked it against Leila's. "To Blake White! He shall be missed." The stylist and driver drained their shot glasses. "Why did he have to commit suicide? Why? Blakeeee." Harper moaned, pounding his fist on the bar counter.

Leila patted his back consolingly. "There, there...I should have been more considerate about Blake's allergies to synthetic fabrics and fur. I guess you never know what you've got until it's gone. If you're out there somewhere Blake - I'm sorry!" Leila burst into tears.

Blake's jaw dropped.

Ro put her menu down in shock as she watched Leila and Harper crying and hugging each other. They continued to console each other about Blake's suicide while they both spouted more reasons why they missed him and the he was a _great_ boss. Ro got out her list of murder suspects and crossed out Leila and Harper with a crooked smile.

Blake was floating next to Ro and looking at Leila and Harper in astonishment. An embarrassed look came over his face. "Nice to know, I'm missed. Or at least...my money sure is missed. Heh."

Ro rolled her eyes at the sarcastic ghost. She knew that it wasn't the money these two people missed but Blake himself.

### Chapter 10: American Jesus

Several hours earlier...

In one of the most pretentious mansions in Beverly Hills, Dr. Cole was reclining on his black leather couch in his plush living room watching TV on his expensive flat screen with a glass of Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon wine cupped in one hand. Two of his Rottweilers were sitting next to him on the floor gnawing on expensive slabs of raw T-bone steak. Nothing was too good for his babies. Dr. Cole reached over to the table in front of the couch and picked up a pill bottle. He popped open the bottle and dumped two antidepressants into his hand. He tossed them into his mouth and washed them down with a gulp of wine. He was a doctor and knew that he wasn't supposed to mix the medications he was on with alcohol but he could really give a fuck.

The doctor was watching _Erotic Corpses_ ' live concert expectantly. Dr. Cole swirled his red wine and took a sip as he watched the band get riddled with bullets and smiled cruelly. But then the band stood back up and began to play their instruments. _What's this? This wasn't supposed to happen._ Dr. Cole frowned as he sat up straighter and watched intently as Devon Decayn approached the microphone. Devon took a deep breath to begin to sing, but then froze.

Everything seemed to stand still for those few seconds - even time itself.

And then a young woman dressed like a female zombie ran up on stage and took the microphone. She had black hair that had been cut into an edgy style with angled bangs, and lots of layers. And her eyes...glowing, pale, lavender-colored eyes...

Eyes that were just like _HIS_!

Dr. Cole's wine glass fell from his limp fingers. It hit the carpet with a dull thud and red wine stained it blood-red ominously.

The mysterious young woman began to sing and it was with _HIS_ voice!

Dr. Cole stood up, slammed his hands on the table in front of him, and glared at the TV screen. _That_ was impossible! _What the hell is going on? Just who the hell is that woman?_ _Is this some kind of sick joke to torment me?_ Dr. Cole knew that he needed to return to Good Samaritan Hospital immediately.

However, just as Dr. Cole turned to go he paused and scrutinized the young woman more closely. She had a beautiful face. A very familiar looking face. "Rosalie Galloway?" He narrowed his eyes at the young woman on screen.

Her hair was different and so was the color of her eyes, but...that gloomy face. It was definitely her.

Rosalie just had a new haircut, colored contact lenses perhaps, and was wearing some designer clothes. An intrigued smile spread across Dr. Cole's face. Rosalie Galloway - the first woman to ever refuse his advances! But not for long.

"Is this where you have been hiding, little lamb? But I'll need to make sure it's you..." Dr. Cole reached into his pants' pocket and whipped out his cell phone. He quickly dialed his benefactor's telephone number.

" _Hello?_ " Came a man's gruff voice.

"It's me...that was an interesting performance." Dr. Cole drawled, his amusement showing in his voice.

" _Indeed...albeit unexpected._ "

"And the girl? Who is she?"

" _I don't know. An unexpected bonus perhaps?_ " The man chuckled dryly.

"I think I may know who she really is, but I can't be certain...I need to confirm it with my own two eyes. So, on that note, wouldn't it be nice if _Erotic Corpses_ decided to hold a concert at Good Samaritan Hospital for the patients there on Christmas. Sometimes, it's good to give back to the community, don't you think?"

" _An interesting idea. I'll see what I can do._ "

"Don't forget...you owe me for what I'm doing..."

" _I haven't forgotten, Surgeon of Death. But don't forget. You owe me as well._ "

"Good, see that you don't. Happy holidays." Dr. Cole ended the call and chuckled to himself as he gripped his phone in his hand. "You won't escape me forever Rosalie Galloway. No girl can resist my charms. You'll succumb just like all the others eventually. Your heart will be mine! Buwahahaha!" Dr. Cole began to laugh maniacally causing his dogs to get nervous and start howling.

***

Four weeks had already flown by since Ro had become _Erotic Corpses_ ' lead singer and it was now mid December. Ro had explained to everyone at Wraythe Records that Carrie was her protégé, and the Wicca witch had immediately been hired as _Erotic Corpses_ ' new stylist. Ro and Carrie had both signed their contracts to work for Wraythe Records. Manager Brody had been in charge of everything and unfortunately Mr. Wraythe had been too busy to see them during the contract signing. Ro was extremely curious to meet the man that Blake considered to be like a second father. Everything was going swimmingly. It seemed all too easy.

Meanwhile, Ro was growing closer to the band, but still hadn't gotten to investigate Joey or Vincent in a one-on-one setting yet. Her murder investigation had come to a bit of a standstill.

At the Wraythe Records impressive, tower-like building, the band _Erotic Corpses_ was currently jamming together in their practice studio. Ro was belting out punk rock lyrics while possessed by Blake. Devon's fingers were moving up and down the fret board as he strummed his guitar. Joey was doing funny dance moves while playing his bass guitar. And lastly, Vincent was attacking the drums with his bone-shaped sticks while head banging.

Sadie was watching Devon from her place on the nearby couch, her chin in her hands, hearts in her eyes, and a lustful look on her face as she puffed on a cigarette.

Carrie was on the couch next to the female rockstar, flipping through a VOGUE fashion magazine and pretending not to watch Vincent playing the drums. But Sadie could see that Carrie's magazine was upside down and snorted.

Blake hated to admit it but he was really enjoying getting to sing with his band mates again. But he wasn't there for jam practice. He was there for _revenge_.

The door to the practice studio burst open and their manager Brody Beck entered. The man was wearing a green and white Hawaiian shirt with a pair of tan colored board shorts. He wore a pair of neon green flip-flops on his feet and had a smoking cigar between his lips. There was stubble on his chin and even though he looked unprofessional and unkempt, he was the best manager in the music industry! He had extensive connections; people feared his name and doors opened just at the mere mention of his name. He was Manager Brody Beck of the _Erotic Corpses_. A celebrity in his own right.

"Hey punks, I have some good news. _Erotic Corpses_ is going to have a concert at Good Samaritan Hospital on Christmas Day." Manager Brody informed the band with a lopsided grin on his face.

Devon took the news stoically, and Joey instantly looked pleased by the idea. "Good Samaritan Hospital? That's a great idea! Sweet! Did the big boss man come up with that himself? I'm always bugging him to let us do more philanthropic events."

Brody furrowed his brow as he removed his cigar from his mouth and blew out a cloud of smoke. "Naw, I think someone from the hospital mentioned the idea to someone who works at our company." Mr. Beck explained vaguely with a shrug and walked over to Carrie. "You'll have to design costumes for the Christmas concert, Miss Ashmore. Mr. Wraythe said that the theme this time is: Jack Frost, Winter Wonderland, frostbite, hypothermia, and ice sculptures."

"Interesting combination. I like it." A crooked smile formed on the Goth girl's lips.

"Isn't that a little morbid for a hospital?" Blake sneered. "What's the old man thinking?!"

_Good Samaritan Hospital? But my father is there...!_ Ro panicked within her mind and Blake became equally worried about this turn of events. _And so is Dr. Cole._

A dark shadow had fallen over Vincent's handsome face as well but for very different reasons. "Good Samaritan Hospital?" Vincent looked nervous.

"Since it's going to be at a hospital I want you punks to play some of your lighter stuff. We don't want to give the patients there a heart attack. Got it?" Brody waved his cigar at the band. "Practice, practice, practice! And keep practicing. And Ro..." Manager Brody sauntered over to give Ro a pat on her head and an easy smile. "You're doing really well. Keep up the good work, Miss Ripper."

Blake grinned back still in Ro's body. "Thanks Manager Brody."

Manager Brody blinked at Ro, surprised by the shy girl's sudden straightforwardness and an odd feeling of déjà vu. It reminded him of...Manager Brody shook his head. "I'll leave you punks to it then." Brody said gruffly before leaving the practice studio.

Meanwhile, Blake and Ro were having a conversation inside of Ro's mind:

_What are we going to do, Blake?_ Ro asked.

_Calm down, beggar girl. Let me think. I hate to ask but...is your father even healthy enough to watch the concert? Maybe we're worrying about nothing._ Blake offered.

Ro mentally shook her head. _I don't think so...he'd have to request getting someone to wheelchair him out of his room and my father doesn't like asking people for favors, so..._

_So we have nothing to worry about. Let's just focus on practicing. Geez, you are such a worrywart. You're going to get wrinkles and look like an old lady if you keep that up._ Blake chided causing Ro to mentally pout.

"Alright guys, let's continue." Blake demanded.

"Yea!" Joey readily agreed. Forceful Ro was so cute.

Devon smirked and nodded. Vincent spun his drumsticks and grinned. _Erotic Corpses_ continued to jam for several more hours after that. The instruments and Blake's singing blended perfectly together.

***

After band practice, Carrie latched onto Ro's arm and begged the gloomy girl to go window-shopping with her since the witch still had to get Christmas presents for her large family. Ro agreed immediately and they left Wraythe Records together.

As Ro and Carrie walked down the sidewalk on Rodeo Drive, they noted that all of the palm tress had been wrapped in golden, glowing Christmas lights. Storefront windows had also been decorated for Christmas with draping pine garlands, twisting multi-colored lights and dangling, frosted ornaments.

Ro enjoyed window-shopping. Her family had always been poor and they had consistently had very frugal Christmases. The Galloways had rarely been able to afford to give each other presents, and so had cut 'items' out of magazines that they would have liked to give each other. They then presented each other with these 'dream gifts' on Christmas morning.

The Galloways usually ate a simple dinner consisting of a precooked chicken, rice and beans. They would pretend they were eating an extravagant turkey with stuffing, marshmallow covered yams, green beans, wild rice, and pumpkin pie for dessert. They would pretend they were eating the dishes they wished they had. The Galloways would pretend a single cupcake was a large cake, and divide it into three pieces.

Sometimes Ro couldn't really blame her mother for having left them...

Ro liked window-shopping because it was like _dreaming_. She had always wished she could actually enter the stores and actually buy something for her father for Christmas. The medium used to imagine what it would be like to have the money to buy the ingredients to cook her father an extravagant Christmas dinner. But in the end it was just a dream...

Carrie had her arm wrapped around Ro's arm in a friendly manner as they walked down the sidewalk on Rodeo Drive. Blake was floating next to Ro and glaring at Carrie for her over familiarity with the gloomy girl.

Carrie was smiling brightly - her smile contrasting greatly with her dark Goth makeup and long black medieval gown. "Thanks for coming with me, Ro! I have to buy presents for my family - my mom, dad and all of my brothers and sisters. I just got an advanced paycheck from Wraythe Records too! Manager Brody is a little weird but definitely a nice guy! I think I'll buy my family some scarves and matching hats. Something practical, you know? What do you think, Ro?"

Carrie turned her head and noticed that Ro was looking inside of an impressive, festive window display. It was the front window of the _Prada_ store. On either side of the main entrance door stood two palm trees wrapped in glowing Christmas lights. There was an extremely sharp looking gray pinstriped suit with a matching gray scarf and hat on the manikin that stood in the window. Ro thought that her father would look extremely handsome in that suit. He'd also be nice and warm with that scarf, and hat. Unconsciously, Ro reached her hand out longingly towards the glass.

_It's only a dream._ Ro reminded herself in a dreary manner.

Carrie gave Ro a knowing look. "Do you have someone you still need to buy a present for? Oh, are you thinking of getting that suit for your father? Let's go inside and look at it!" The witch grabbed Ro's hand and began to pull her towards the front door.

But Ro snatched her hand away from Carrie's grip. Carrie turned around and gave Ro a hurt, questioning look.

Ro was shaking her head as guilt welled up inside of her chest. "No...I can't...I've never...I don't have any money..." Ro stammered as she tried to explain that she had never shopped for _real_ Christmas presents before and that she didn't feel right about spending Blake's money on herself or her family. It just wasn't right. She was a fake. She didn't deserve any of this.

Blake was watching Ro closely and seemed to get most of her hesitation. "Idiot. You're a millionaire now and Wraythe Records also gave you a paycheck this month. You have the money to do as much Christmas shopping as you want. You can use my emergency money too. I give you my permission. Be honored." Blake gave Ro a haughty look. "Buy your father the most extravagant Christmas present you can! Or else!" Blake threatened with a glare.

Ro looked at Blake in surprise and gave him a curious look. How did he know exactly what was bothering her? The ghost seemed to be able to read her mind at times.

Carrie smiled when Ro told her what Blake had just said. "You see. Even the big bad ghost can be nice sometimes. Let's go shopping!" Carrie took Ro's hand and dragged her into the store.

Carrie and Blake convinced Ro to buy her father the suit that she had been eyeing in the window, while Carrie purchased several hats with matching scarves and gloves for her entire family. At the register, Carrie turned to Ro, "Hey, are you going to buy your band mates anything?"

"Band mates?" Ro gave Carrie a confused look and then realized that the Goth meant Devon, Joey and Vincent. "Oh...but they're not _my_ band mates or friends...they're Blake's. I'm just...a stranger..." Ro said morosely, hanging her head in a dejected manner.

Carrie frowned at Ro's self-deprecating words. "Huh? That's not true...they've accepted you, Ro. You're part of the band now..." The witch reached out and put a hand on Ro's shoulder.

Ro looked up at Carrie with a tortured expression in her ice-blue eyes. "Carrie...I'm not..."

"Ro is right." Blake spoke up suddenly. "She's _not_ a part of _Erotic Corpses_ , but neither am I, Ro. Devon may have been cleared, but Vincent and Joey still haven't, and until then...I won't trust them or have anything to do with them. You're not at Wraythe Records to make friends, Ro. You're there to investigate those people and find out who killed me, so that I can get my revenge."

Ro repeated Blake's dire words to Carrie in a saddened tone. "Blake is right, Carrie. We're not here to make friends. Don't forget. We joined Wraythe Records so that we could investigate Blake's murder."

Carrie touched a wine-colored colored scarf that she had just purchased in a wistful manner. "Yea...you're right. I keep forgetting...they're still murder suspects..."

Even as Ro said those cruel words, however, she didn't really believe them. She believed that Joey and Vincent were innocent, but...she still had to prove their innocence to Blake while also discovering Blake's true murderer.

In truth, Ro really wanted to get Devon, Joey, and Vincent Christmas presents, but...if Blake found out about it or caught her she'd be so screwed! So what could she do?

_Oh no...my life really is cursed._ Ro moaned in her mind because she felt that the band had become her friends.

***

For the entire week before the scheduled Christmas concert at Good Samaritan Hospital, _Erotic Corpses_ practiced day and night in preparation. During a moment of rare free time, Ro drove to a material store and purchased several balls of colored yarn. Once she was back at the penthouse she began to crochet. When Blake began to bother her about what the hell she was doing, Ro told him that she was making something for Carrie and to leave her alone. This, of course, was a total lie.

Later that day, while Ro was taking a shower, Lucky, Percy, Spottie, Luna and Dulce curiously got into Ro's yarn basket, began to play with the yarn, and unwind the balls of yarn so that the entire penthouse began to become an obstacle course.

Blake had been outside on the balcony and by the time he reentered the penthouse colored yarn was all over the floor. "Ah! Ro! Your stupid cats got into your yarn basket! They're making a mess in my beloved penthouse!" Blake shouted, not knowing that Ro was currently in the shower.

All Ro could hear was Blake yelling at the top of his lungs, and thinking it was an emergency she jumped out of the shower and quickly wrapped a towel around her body. She flung the bathroom door open and padded her way into the living room to see that colored yarn was everywhere. The living room looked like it had been draped with a multicolored web made up of: purple, dark blue, hot pink, yellow, orange, black and red.

"Ah! Cats! Luckyyy!" Ro shouted as she ran around the apartment wrapped in nothing but a towel, and chased the cats in order to force them to let go of her crochet. Lucky had a crocheted mitten in his maw and Ro began to play tug-o-war with the cat for the item.

At the same exact moment while this chaos was going on, Carrie was approaching the penthouse door. Carrie had been given the pass code to Blake's apartment so that she could come and go as she pleased since the penthouse had become her temporary sewing studio where she could work unhindered on the costumes for the upcoming Christmas concert for the band. The witch reached the door, punched the pass code in and stepped inside of the apartment, planning to do some finishing touches to the costumes since the concert was tomorrow.

What greeted her eyes was pandemonium - yarn was everywhere and Ro was chasing her cats while dressed in nothing but a skimpy towel! "Hey Ro...where's Blake? Is he gone?" Carrie asked tentatively.

"No...he's around somewhere." Ro absentmindedly replied as she picked Lucky up by the scruff of his neck and removed the mitten from his maw.

"Then...is it really wise for you to be running around in a towel like that?" Carrie asked with her hands on her hips and an arched eyebrow.

"Huh?" Ro said as Lucky mischievously hooked his claws into Ro's towel and tugged it right off of her! The towel dropped to the floor soundlessly. Ro looked down at her naked body, looked up at Blake who was staring at her, and began to turn bright red. "Ahhhh!" Ro screamed and wrapped her arms over her breasts.

Blake scratched his head. "Will you shut up? It's not like it's anything I haven't seen before."

Ro turned even redder at Blake's careless words. "Get out of here, you perverted ghost! Get out! Pervert!" Ro yelled and threw a ball of yarn his way.

Blake ducked out of reflex-

And the yarn ball hit Carrie right in the face.

BONK. Blake started to laugh and pointed at Carrie, quite amused. Carrie frowned. She just knew Blake White was laughing at her! "Bastard ghost..."

Ro quickly pulled her towel back up and wrapped it around her torso tightly. She glared daggers at Blake. "You disgust me." She muttered, her voice dripping with venom. She spun around and stomped off towards Blake's room.

Blake looked after her feeling somewhat at a loss. Ro had actually looked really upset and her words had kind of hurt, which surprised him. The mighty Blake White really shouldn't give a shit what a beggar girl thought.

You disgust me.

Carrie seemed to be able to sense the abnormally tense atmosphere. "Wow, she really laid it on thick there...huh?" Carrie addressed the couch, er, Blake. "Don't let it get to you...she has her reasons why she acts that way around men. Especially in sexual situations. It's not really my place to tell you about it, but...if you want to know more about it - ask her about Dr. Cole. That bastard screwed up her life...and there's a pretty good chance he's going to be there at the hospital tomorrow. We both need to keep an eye on Ro. Got it?"

Blake nodded in agreement. _That's right...that perverted doctor is going to be there. But surely he won't recognize Ro Ripper as Rosalie Galloway? Right?_ Blake stroked his chin in thought, beginning to feel uneasy about the whole situation.

_If that pervert tries anything funny - I'll kick his ass!_ The rockstar ghost vowed adamantly to himself.

In that moment, Blake really wished that he could communicate with Carrie. She was a Wicca witch...she should know of some way to communicate with a ghost! _Geesh! Pathetic useless witch..._

Carrie made her way over to Blake's dining room table that had been temporarily converted into Carrie's worktable. She took out the costumes she had been working on the last couple of days, and began doing a few finishing touches.

A few minutes later, Ro came out of Blake's room, fully dressed, and she completely ignored Blake as she began to help Carrie with the costumes silently. The girls were up until two o'clock in the morning by the time they finished the costumes, and Ro still had to secretly finish her Christmas presents for Devon, Joey, Vincent, Sadie and Carrie too! It was going to be a long night.

It was 4:30 in the morning by the time Ro finally went to bed. She had her alarm set for six o'clock since Carrie was supposed to meet up with her at the penthouse at seven o'clock. Because of this Ro barely got any sleep and the next day there were dark circles beneath her pretty eyes, which ironically was okay since the theme of the concert was to have the band members look like 'frozen corpses' anyways. Ro looked at her hideous appearance in the bathroom mirror and smiled grimly. _My bad luck is finally good luck. Heh._

The previous day, Ro had left a gift-wrapped suit box in her father's hospital room so that he would wake up and find the gift Christmas morning. When her father woke up this morning he would discover the gift on the bed next to him. Ro smiled at the thought. This year her father would be receiving a _real_ Christmas present and not just a magazine clipping.

Carrie punctually met up with Ro at the penthouse at seven o'clock and then Ro drove her friend and Blake to Good Samaritan Hospital. As soon as they arrived they were greeted by Manager Brody who led the girls to a room inside of the hospital that had been specially prepared for the band, so that they could get ready for the concert there. Carrie helped the band get into their costumes and did their makeup. The concert was going to happen right on the front lawn of the hospital. The band was incredibly excited about this concert and waited impatiently for Manager Brody to tell them when they could leave the hospital room and get into their positions on stage. Ro found herself feeling nervous but...in a good way.

***

That Christmas morning, Edgar Galloway woke up in his hospital bed and turned his head to the side. His eyes widened as he caught sight of the nicely wrapped package sitting on the bed next to him. It was wrapped in silver and blue paper with a snowflake pattern, and silver ribbon. It was sitting right where Ro usually left a magazine clipping of the gift she _wished_ she could get her father for Christmas.

Edgar summoned his strength to sit up in bed and brought the package into his lap. Just that small amount of exertion and he was already feeling winded. He unwrapped it and took the top off to reveal a stunning, pinstriped _Prada_ suit. The jacket and pants were gray with thin, white, vertical stripes. There was a white button-down shirt inside of the box along with a pair of black leather dress shoes, a matching gray scarf, a hat, gloves, and a beautiful silk tie that had silver, black and blue lines on it in a geometric pattern.

Edgar gingerly touched the silk tie. He couldn't believe it was real. He hadn't possessed such a ncie suit since the one he wore for his wedding day. Edgar spotted a folded piece of paper and reached out for it. The carpenter opened the note to read the following note written in Rosalie's handwriting:

Merry Christmas Daddy!

Tears sprang to Edgar's gray eyes. His daughter really had given this to him. She must be doing well and that was the true Christmas gift. It was every parent's wish to see his or her child doing well, or so Edgar believed in his heart. A single tear trailed down Edgar's pale face - not of sadness but of joy.

The door to his room opened and in stepped one of his nurses. She had short ringlets of blonde hair around her face and wide brown eyes. She was holding a breakfast tray and had a red Santa hat on her head. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Galloway! I've brought you breakfast."

Edgar put the tie back into the box and set the box aside as he gave the peppy nurse a shy smile. "Thank you, Anne. Merry Christmas to you too." His gray eyes sparkled.

Anne blushed. Mr. Edgar Galloway was a sickly and yet handsome man. He had the kind of beauty a wilting flower has. The kind that seems ephemeral. He had graying black hair, gray hooded eyes, angular features, a strong nose, and thin lips. He also wore a neatly trimmed pencil mustache. _He looks a little like Clark Gable._ Anne sighed to herself wistfully. "Ah, is that suit a Christmas present from Rosalie? I'll help you put it on after you've finished eating your breakfast." Anne offered kindly.

"You're too kind." Edgar agreed with a nod.

After Edgar finished his breakfast, Anne happily helped Edgar to dress, letting her hands linger here and there on his body a little longer than was probably appropriate. "I'm sure your daughter will come and visit you today. Good luck, Mr. Galloway and Merry Christmas!" Anne said once again as she reluctantly left the room and closed the door behind her.

Edgar simply smiled and nodded. All his words were used up. But a few hours later the strangest thing happened. The door to his room opened and a nurse with a wheelchair entered. She was a nurse that Mr. Galloway didn't recognize. She was tall, abnormally thin, and with a stern expression on her face. The nurse had long, straight blonde hair that was pulled back into a serious ponytail and her eyes were an icy blue. "Hello Mr. Galloway, Merry Christmas. I'm here to take you to the concert."

Edgar blinked. "Concert?"

"The punk rock band _Erotic Corpses_ is going to have a concert here at our hospital today. The concert starts in ten minutes, so we'd better hurry if we want to get a good spot on the lawn." The nurse explained in a droning tone.

"Erotic Corpses?" Edgar muttered to himself. He knew that band. He and Rosalie had sung their song one day together in his room for fun, but it seemed a strange choice of bands to perform at a hospital. It didn't make such sense. Unless the band planned on playing some lighter songs, perhaps?

The stern nurse was already helping Edgar out of his bed forcefully and into the wheelchair. Edgar did not have the strength to resist. That in and of itself was extremely strange too. He wasn't supposed to be allowed out of his room, at all, because of his 'delicate condition'. At least, according to his doctor - Dr. Cole. And now they were letting him go to a concert on the lawn? Why? Something strange was going on. "Hey, wait, I-" Edgar objected trying to stand up, but the nurse ignored him, put her hands on his shoulders, and sat him back down in the wheelchair again. Edgar blushed at not having been able to resist the nurse's firm touch. He felt so helpless because of his sickness.

"Alright, let's go." The nurse said as she wheeled Edgar out of his room, down the hall and to the elevator. They took the elevator down to the first floor and then the nurse wheeled Edgar through the lobby and outside to the hospital lawn.

Hundreds of patients were already outside and bundled up tight against the chill weather. Some were in wheelchairs like Edgar. It was so cold out that Edgar could see his breath come out of his mouth in small white puffs. In front of the crowd an impressive stage had been set up. The stage even had its own stage lights and strip lights.

This was a strangely big production. Edgar noticed that there were reporters, paparazzi, and even a film crew present. _Is this a publicity stunt?_

The nurse wheeled Edgar through the crowd and to a spot right in front of the stage. He'd have a great view. Funny, Edgar actually liked punk rock music.

Edgar turned to thank the serious nurse, but realized she was no longer there. She had disappeared. _How odd._ He frowned.

But then- the lights came on illuminating the stage, and the theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey, also known as _Sprach Zarathustra_ by Richard Strauss began to play. On rising circular platforms the band's instruments appeared on stage: a drum set, an electric guitar on a stand, a bass guitar on a stand and a microphone stand.

Edgar frowned as he caught sight of the microphone and wondered who was going to be singing for _Erotic Corpses_. Blake White was dead...having committed suicide. _No._ Edgar shook his head. His daughter was certain Blake White had been murdered. _No one will be able to top that talented_ _young man._

But since Blake White was no longer in this world, who was going to sing? Had _Erotic Corpses_ found a new singer already? Edgar wondered.

Rising up on four circular platforms came four six-foot tall rectangular-shaped blocks of ice next. They were about the size of caskets.

The spotlights focused on the blocks of ice and Edgar could barely see that inside each block of ice a person was trapped inside. Hired actors that were dressed all in black and that had flame throwers in their hands came up on stage before unleashing a stream of real fire at the ice cubes causing them to begin to melt. Everyone was captivated, in awe, and terrified by this dangerous stunt.

_Hey, hey, hey!_ Edgar's eyes widened as he looked around to see everyone's reactions to this dangerous stunt. _It's this a bit much for hospital patients to take?_

The performers turned off their flamethrowers once the cubes were about halfway thawed. And then-

The _Erotic Corpses_ began to punch and kick their way out of the ice! The crowd cheered once they were completely free and the band walked over to their respective instruments.

Edgar watched as a tall, olive-skinned young man with a lithe frame, long red hair, and a pair of round yellow sunglasses on his face made his way over towards the drum set. Vincent Sangre was wearing a black vest with red and silver snowflakes on it, a red cravat with a silver snowflake pin, a black jacket with red cuffs, black silk pants, and a pair of boots. He was wearing a top hat on his head that had a red ribbon around its base and a large silver snowflake on it. Vincent Sangre's drumsticks had been specially made out of _Swarovski_ crystal so that they resembled icicles. Vincent's face had been painted white and he had pale blue lipstick on.

Edgar's attention shifted to a glowing blue skeleton that was up on stage - no wait. A young man with spiky blonde hair with black tips - was wearing a black bodysuit that had the pattern of a skeleton's bones on it. The bone pattern was glowing softly with a blue tinged light. A battery pack was attached to Joey's back, which was providing power for the light strips that illuminated the bone pattern. Joey Bones had his face painted white with blue and dark blue accents. Edgar watched intently as this young man picked up the bass guitar and put the strap on over his head.

Edgar's eyes were attracted towards a tall, young man with short, dark blue hair in an edgy style and that had been razor cut on the sides of his head with a design and dyed black, next. The young man had dark eyes, pale skin and was wearing a very interesting black leather outfit. The jacket had what at first appeared to be metal spikes on the chest and shoulders, but upon closer inspection Edgar realized that the spikes were made out of _Swarovski_ crystal to resemble icicles. A few of these crystal icicles were dangling from Devon's sleeves. There were even icicles protruding from the top of Devon's combat boots.

Devon Decayn had his face painted white, blue circles had been painted on his eye sockets, and his lips had been painted dark blue. He emulated a frozen Angel of Death...or a thawed ice demon. He had a pair of melting ice wings that had been attached to his back and as he performed pieces of the wings fell off and hit the stage exploding into sparkling clouds of ice crystals.

Lastly, Edgar's attention was drawn to the new singer of _Erotic Corpses_ : a beautiful, mysterious young woman with midnight black hair that was cut into a punky style. The dress she was wearing was amazing. It consisted of a black, lace-up corset that had silver snowflakes and _Swarovski_ crystals on it. The skirt of the dress was long and had lots of layers but looked as though it had been ripped open in the front so that Ro's long legs were visible in her black thigh-high boots. The black material of the skirt was completely covered in sparkling _Swarovski_ crystals giving the dress a glazed or iced look. She was wearing a black choker with a silver snowflake dangling from it around her neck. Ro Ripper's face had been painted white, blue shadows had been painted beneath her eyes and she had dark blue lipstick on.

_A frozen Goth princess._ Edgar thought.

The female rockstar had her head bowed as she held the microphone that was in the stand in front of her, and then she looked up. Edgar saw her pale lavender colored eyes...

But he recognized her face now. She was his daughter: Rosalie Galloway!

"Hello and welcome to our Christmas concert, everyone! We're really glad to be here. So thanks for having us! Our bass guitarist Joey Bones and our lead guitarist Devon Decayn have been working on this new song together for all of you. Here goes:

" _My friends are a bunch of rich assholes_

I'm sick of lying my ass off to fit in

They all naively think I'm one of them

I'm always on the outside looking in

I'm going to break the mask on my face...

***

" _I'm just a Deadbeat Loser..._

And I'm proud of it!

I'm just a Deadbeat Loser...

And I'm proud of it!

I'm just a Deadbeat Loser...

And I'm proud of it! YEAA!"

The drummer led the band into the song and then the lead guitar kicked in followed by the bass, and that's when Ro opened her mouth and began to belt out punk lyrics in a voice that was not truly her own. Edgar's eyes widened in a mixture of shock, surprise, and astonishment since his daughter was singing in a voice that oddly enough sounded a lot like Blake White's voice.

_What's going on? Is that really my Rosalie?_ "Rosalie...?" Edgar murmured in concern, gripping his wheelchair arms tightly until his knuckles turned white.

_Erotic Corpses_ continued their musical performance, and as Ro sang Edgar was captivated by that talented voice. It was like witnessing a miracle. That voice...it had everyone on the hospital lawn completely bewitched as if time hung still.

" _I used to yell and scream at my 'rents_

To buy me what I wanted for Christmas

Didn't give a fuck if we had food money

I disrespected my 'rents and gave them sass

***

" _Hired actors to pretend to be my parents_

Didn't want my friends to know I was poor

Ashamed of my origins and my roots

Ran away from home, and out the door

***

" _I'm just a Deadbeat Loser..._

And I'm proud of it!

I'm just a Deadbeat Loser...

And I'm proud of it!

I'm just a Deadbeat Loser...

And I'm proud of it! YEAAA!"

As Ro sang the chorus twice, time seemed to slow down and Edgar noticed that the dead leaves that were falling from a nearby tree appeared to be descending in slow motion. Edgar dazedly watched a black bird take flight from one of the tree's skeletal branches and he could see every slow flap of the bird's wings. Snow began to fall from the swirling, gray clouds overhead and the snow seemed to take ages before it reached the ground. It was magical.

The young woman's somewhat raspy and melodious voice sent goosebumps running up and down everyone's arms that hadn't been caused by the cold weather. Ro's singing brought tears to Edgar's gray eyes, and to the eyes of everyone else in the audience.

The song reminded Edgar of the frugal Christmases the Galloway family had spent together...even without presents they had been happy. As long as they had each other that was all that mattered.

" _But one day the richest boy in my school_

Became the poorest when his parents died

All his millions couldn't raise the dead

Death wouldn't take his currency, he cried

***

" _My friends and family still drawing breath_

I finally realized the richest kid was me

Dreams, laughter, smiles, hugs, kisses, memories, love

The Best Christmas presents are all free!

***

" _Pretender, Poser, Poor boy. That's me._

Pretender, Poser, Poor boy. That's me.

Pretender, Poser, Poor boy. That's me."

Blake looked at the crowd of patients, paparazzi and news reporters on the hospital lawn and sang loudly. He didn't know where Joey had come up with the idea for the song but...he was impressed. Before Blake had met Ro he probably wouldn't have been able to relate to the song very much, but as Blake sang the song he pictured what life must have been like for Rosalie growing up. He pictured Ro having Christmas with her father in their tiny apartment, with a meager dinner and a cold fireplace without wood.

Because he was imagining Ro he was able to put his heart and soul into the song and words. Blake had never been able to put so much emotional conveyance into a song before. Sure Blake White was talented, skilled, always sang in key, never made mistakes and had a very impressive vocal range. But Blake's singing had sometimes lacked _emotion_. At least according to Devon Decayn. Especially when the songs contained subject matter Blake had been unable to relate to. But Ro was opening his eyes to a lot of things. To a different world.

Perhaps, it seemed hypocritical for someone like Blake White - the man who had everything - to be singing a song about the poor. But all the money in the world couldn't bring his parents back to life. When his parents had been killed Blake had indeed become the poorest man on Earth.

He had been lucky since Mr. William Wraythe had taken Blake under his wing and given him the chance to use his pretty face to become a part of show biz. Mr. Wraythe had turned Blake into a star so that he was able to support himself. Blake White was the man who had everything but who also had nothing.

As Blake sang his eyes locked with a certain man's. The man was in a wheelchair right in front of the stage and he had tears in his eyes. He also looked oddly familiar.

_Ah! Blake! That's my father! What is he doing outside the hospital?_ Ro quickly informed the ghost.

Blake's eyes narrowed at Mr. Galloway. It was indeed Ro's sickly father. Blake smiled at Mr. Galloway and began to sing directly to him.

_Blake! What are you doing?_ Ro inwardly began to panic.

_God, you're such a worrywart, Ro. Nothing's going to happen._ Blake reassured Ro in her mind.

However, just as Blake was reassuring Ro of this, Dr. Cole suddenly materialized behind Ro's father coming into Blake's line of sight. Dr. Cole looked up at 'Ro' and met Blake's eyes. He put a hand on Mr. Galloway's shoulder before holding up a syringe, which he held next to Mr. Galloway's throat. He smiled cruelly as he awaited Ro's reaction. It was an obvious threat to Mr. Galloway's life!

_Dr. Cole?! Get away from my father, you asshole!_ Ro screamed in her mind.

_Ro! Chill. This is just what he wants...for me to freak out on stage and reveal your identity...but I won't let that happen. I'll protect your father and your identity...trust me._ Blake soothed.

In a steely manner, Blake ignored Dr. Cole and Mr. Galloway, and turned his attention to the rest of the audience next. He continued to sing seemingly unfazed by what had just occurred. But as much as Blake was able to remain calm in this situation, Ro simply could not. She became more and more nervous as the concert progressed and it was getting harder for Blake to remain inside of Ro's unstable mind, heart and body.

"Dreams, laughter, smiles, hugs, kisses, memories, love. The best Christmas presents are free! Pretender, poser, poor boy. That's me." Blake sang the last line of the song with his arms out wide in a dramatic pose, and felt Ro push him right out of her body.

_Ahhhh!_ The ghost went spinning through the air.

_Father?!_ Ro thought frantically as she leapt off the stage and approached Mr. Galloway and Dr. Cole. She came to stand directly in front of her father, fists clenched at her sides, and glared hostilely at Dr. Cole, who still had his hand on Mr. Galloway's shoulder. Though the doctor had put the syringe away, he had Ro's complete attention and that was all he had really wanted.

"Ro! No, you idiot!" Blake shouted at her as he flew through the air towards her.

Ro tried so hard not to say anything and bit her lower lip. Mr. Galloway looked up at Ro and then looked over at Dr. Cole noticing the doctor's hand on his shoulder. Edgar had never seen Ro look at someone with eyes so full of obvious hatred before. He shuddered, wondering what the hell was going on. Dr. Cole was the family doctor and their friend. What could have possibly happened between them for Ro to look at the man like that?

Edgar also noted that Rosalie's eyes were back to normal - they were their usual ice-blue color with the dark blue ring around the irises and with flecks of gray in them. Those were truly his daughter's eyes.

Dr. Cole smiled widely. "Ah, Mr. Galloway...I'd like to introduce you to the new lead singer of _Erotic Corpses_ \- Ro Ripper."

Edgar looked up at Ro, right in her eyes and smiled. "Hello young lady. It's nice to meet you. You are an incredibly talented singer." He greeted her in a polite yet distant manner.

_Father?!_ Ro looked at her father in surprise. He was pretending not to know who she was...for her sake! Ro calmed herself and nodded. "Thank you, sir..."

A deep frown marred Dr. Cole's handsome face and his eyes flashed. "Mr. Galloway...isn't your daughter's name Rosalie? What a coincidence."

Mr. Galloway nodded. "Yes, that's right. She's around your age too, young lady. Although the Rosalie I know would never be able to get up on a stage like you just did and sing in front of so many people. My Rosalie is bad with crowds." A lopsided smile formed on Edgar's dreary face. "Anyways, my daughter is a fan of _Erotic Corpses_ by the way. If I had known that you were going to be having a concert here I would have told my Rosalie to come. Such a pity...she'll be extremely disappointed she missed this..." Edgar shook his head sadly.

"A fan? I'll have my manager give you one of our autographed CDs then. You can give it to your daughter as a Christmas present." Ro offered with a smile.

"You're too kind." Mr. Galloway said, a glint in his gray eyes.

Dr. Cole was fuming. These two were trying to trick him. He was sure of it...well, almost sure of it. He knew this was Rosalie Galloway...wasn't it? Even Dr. Cole was beginning to doubt...was it really not her? This woman before him seemed...confident.

"Rosalie!" Came a high-pitched sounding voice.

Dr. Cole, Edgar, Ro and Blake all turned to see a fashionable woman with eyes just like Ro's approach them. Belladonna - Ro's mother - was a tall woman in her forties, but she didn't have a single wrinkle on her face. This was because of the plastic surgery she had undergone and the Botox treatments she'd had. With her fake, size D boobs, and liposuctioned limbs - her body and face resembled that of a Barbie Doll. Everything about her was fake. Even her long, wavy blonde hair was dyed. She was wearing a skin-tight, red, _Prada_ dress, a long black leather jacket, was carrying a _Louis Vuitton_ shoulder bag, and had a pair of _Christian Louboutins_ on her feet.

_Who's this Bride of Frankenstein?_ Blake wondered as he gazed at the woman and then noticed her eyes, which resembled Ro's eyes so keenly. _Oh shit..._

Belladonna was barely recognizable to Edgar and Ro, who blinked at her for several moments since her voice was familiar to them and her eyes, but as for the rest of her...? They didn't know what to make of the drastic changes to her appearance.

Belladonna closed in on Ro and stalked over to her. "Rosalie?!" Belladonna threw her arms around her daughter and hugged her tightly.

Ro froze as she realized who this woman suddenly was. _Oh shit...mother?_

Dr. Cole was giving Ro a piercing look again.

"Honey, I mean, Belladonna what are you doing to that poor girl? She's not _our_ Rosalie." Edgar interjected politely.

Belladonna snapped her head in Edgar's direction and looked at him in shock. "Edgar?! What are you doing here and in that wheelchair? And what do you mean this girl isn't our Rosalie? She's Rosalie - our daughter!" She insisted with a stamp of her high-heeled shoe.

Ro pushed her mother back. "I...I...I'm sorry...but..." Ro stammered, but she just couldn't do this. She couldn't pretend that her parents weren't her parents!

Blake realized that Ro was in trouble. "Crap...Ro you idiot..."

Belladonna gave Ro a shocked look and grabbed Ro's shoulders. "What are you saying, Rosalie?"

Blake dove into Ro's body and possessed her. The ghost opened his lavender colored eyes and slapped Belladonna's hand away coldly. Blake glared defiantly at Belladonna. "You're _not_ my mother."

Belladonna gasped and placed a hand in front of her pouty, collagen-injected lips. Tears began to fill her beautiful eyes. " _Rosalie_ ..."

Edgar began to have a violent coughing fit. Belladonna turned towards him in concern. "Edgar? What's wrong?" Edgar just continued to cough more violently.

"I think it would be best if you helped the man back to his room. He has a delicate condition." Blake suggested firmly.

"His room? Here?" Belladonna resisted the urge to bite down on her lower lip - her new lips had been expensive after all and a frown formed on her pretty face. She nodded, feeling at a loss suddenly of what to do. She took Edgar's wheelchair by the handles, and began to wheel her ex-husband back towards the hospital.

Blake turned to glare at Dr. Cole once the couple had gone. "We need to talk." Blake grabbed Dr. Cole's wrist and dragged him through the crowd on the lawn.

Dr. Cole chuckled. "My, suddenly so aggressive, Rosalie."

Blake stopped once he deemed them far enough away from the stage. They were standing next to a couple of trees that gave them some privacy from the prying eyes of the paparazzi. Blake let go of Dr. Cole's wrist and spun to face him. "What the hell do you want with me? You don't even know me."

"Stop playing coy. I know exactly who you really are - Rosalie Galloway. You and your father almost had me fooled but your mother is truly an open book. She's also incredibly familiar. Where have I seen her before...?" Dr. Cole pondered as he stroked his chin.

"What the fuck do you want?" Blake asked again with a snarl.

"My, such language. It doesn't suit a pretty girl such as yourself, Rosalie. I'm just curious about why Rosalie Galloway would change her name and pop up as Ro Ripper - the lead singer of _Erotic Corpses_ all of a sudden. What dangerous secrets are you hunting? What truth are you trying to uncover? Just what are you up to exactly? I'm sure you wouldn't want to put your parents in danger. But if their connection with you is discovered that would put them at risk, wouldn't it? Make them...targets...perhaps?" Dr. Cole smiled evilly, hinting that he knew certain things.

"What do you want?" Blake growled again, resisting the urge to just punch this cocky asshole in the face.

Dr. Cole's dark blue eyes flashed with desire. "You know what I want, Rosalie." Dr. Cole leaned forward and whispered in Ro's ear. "I want your heart to be mine!" The doctor pulled back and chuckled at Ro's disgusted look. "If you agree to give me your heart then I'll keep your real identity a secret and protect your parents. So, what do you say?"

In Ro's mind, the medium was actually considering Dr. Cole's offer. She was beginning to think that she didn't really have a choice but to agree to start dating the doctor or whatever his sick and twisted mind had planned for her. She had to protect her parents from Blake's murderer at all costs. However-

SLAP! Blake suddenly slapped Dr. Cole hard across the face. "My heart is not so easily given away. I'm Ro Ripper now. But really it's no big deal. Go right ahead and tell everyone I used to be Rosalie Galloway. I only changed my name because Ro Ripper sounds cooler - not because of some conspiracy you seem to think is amiss. Also, my parents are old-fashioned, traditionalists so I didn't think they would support my career as a rockstar. But go right ahead, Dr. Cole. Tell everyone if you really want to. I don't give a flying fuck!"

_Blake!_ Ro thought.

Ro...don't worry, I'll protect your parents no matter what happens. You don't have to be this sicko's lover. You're no one's pawn except for mine. You're Rosalie Galloway...and you're kind of...amazing...

Ro mentally blushed. _Blake..._

Blake flipped his hair and stalked away from Dr. Cole without looking back.

Dr. Cole grit his teeth out of frustration. "Dammit!" He turned and punched the tree that was next to him.

POW! Wood splintered and woodchips went flying through the air. Dr. Cole had left a fair-sized hole in the tree's trunk.

The sound of applause was heard and Dr. Cole turned to see the famous heavy metal singer, Sadie Skellington, approaching him. Sadie was wearing a long, fuzzy, hot pink, winter jacket that was decorated with black fur around the collar and at the bottom of the sleeves. The jacket had cute, round, black buttons going down the front of it.

Sadie sauntered over to Dr. Cole in a pair of extremely tall and unstable high-heeled shoes, and removed her sunglasses with a flourish. "That was impressive...doctor...?"

"Dr. Cole." Dr. Cole grunted, eyeing this strange girl curiously.

Sadie put her hand out for Dr. Cole to take and he did so, suddenly amused. He put a kiss on the top of her hand.

Sadie smirked slyly as he did so. "I'm sure you know who I am."

A twinkle formed in Dr. Cole's eye. "Sadie Skellington."

Sadie nodded. "I couldn't help but notice that little...confrontation earlier. I knew that girl was hiding something." Sadie tsked. "I never liked her from the start..."

Dr. Cole raised a perfect eyebrow at her. "Oh, you're not friends?"

"Hardly," Sadie waved her hand in a dismissive gesture through the air. "That little twit has been getting way too full of herself lately. She's even been spending time with _my_ boyfriend, Devon Decayn without asking for my permission first. Little conniving bitch. I couldn't help but overhear that you wanted Ro to be yours?"

Dr. Cole merely nodded, a psychotic glint in his dark blue eyes.

"I think we should join forces, Dr. Cole. What's that saying? The enemy of my enemy is my friend. I can help you..." Sadie leaned in to whisper in Dr. Cole's ear. "Get your hands on Ro Ripper so that you can make her 'heart' yours or whatever. Let me give you a piece of advice, Dr. Cole. Sometimes you have to _force_ love. That's how I got Devon Decayn."

"Indeed." Dr. Cole was definitely intrigued by this surprising development. A sadistic smile spread across his thin lips. Maybe his luck was finally looking up. Rosalie Galloway wouldn't be able to escape him again. "Her heart will be mine."

***

Meanwhile, back at the stage, Joey Bones was approaching the microphone stand. He stood in front of it and hesitated before reaching out and taking the mic. "Excuse me...everyone...I have something to say."

All of a sudden everyone's attention was back on the stage and on Joey Bones - paparazzi, reporters, and hospital patients looked at Joey expectantly.

"I asked my friend Devon for this favor really...to help me reveal a secret in the form of a song. To finally come clean about something. A few of you might recognize my parents..." Joey waved his hand at a well-dressed couple standing in front of the stage. Joey's father - a dark-haired man in his fifties was dressed in dark blue _Armani_ suit. Joey's mother had long, blonde hair and was wearing a _GUCCI_ dress with black stilettos. "Perhaps, you've seen them at my other concerts and special events, but...truth is...they're not my parents."

Several gasps were heard in the gathered crowd and people began to look confused. The paparazzi and reporters immediately began to take a flood of pictures of Joey's so-called 'parents'.

"Those are hired actors I paid to pretend to be my parents because I was ashamed of my real parents and where I really come from. Truth is...I'm poor...or rather I used to be poor. But even so my parents used up every penny they had to send me to the best private schools where I was able to meet my best friends - Devon, Vincent and Blake. Those three came from high society...but I didn't. I wanted to be their friend. I didn't want them to reject me, so I kept it a secret that I was poor and lied about being rich like them. I hired those actors to pretend to be my parents and had them show up to Parent-Teacher meetings even.

"And I know that was wrong...I didn't realize it at the time of course but...when my friends lost their parents...I began to realize just how important and special my real parents were. They may not have been rich but...they loved me and they were alive. I've wanted to come clean about this for years but the thing about a lie is - it creates more and more lies until you've become buried by them and there's no escape. That's why I told Devon the truth and then asked him to let me write the song ' _Deadbeat Loser_ ' so I could share the important lesson that I learned the hard way - that money doesn't matter and what's really important is your friends and family.

"And that's why I want to introduce you all to my real parents - Mr. and Mrs. Bones!" Joey cried as he pointed into the crowd at a middle-aged couple.

Joey's father was a tall, pale, lanky man with thinning blonde hair and a receding hairline. He had blue eyes just like Joey's and was wearing a slightly wrinkled gray suit. Joey's mother was kind of on the plump side and short. She had short, wavy brown hair, brown eyes, and was wearing a simple purple dress. Joey's mother was homely and his father pretty nondescript, but they wore friendly smiles on their faces.

Tears filled Joey's eyes as he reached out to his parents. "Mom - Dad - please. I'd like you to come up here."

Mr. and Mrs. Bones made their way to the stage and Joey helped them up. Joey flung his arms around his parents' shoulders as tears began to stream down his face. "This...is my _family_. This is my beautiful mother and my smart father. And...I love them and...I'm _sorry_. But today is Christmas so I wanted everyone who's watching this concert at home to take a moment to remember that the best Christmas presents are totally free: your friends and family. The best presents you can ask Santa Claus for this year are all free: smiles, hugs, laughter, happiness...and that's what I want to wish all of you - a very Merry Christmas and Happy Holiday Season with you and your family."

Everyone was in shock by Joey's startling announcement and revelation, but then everyone began to applaud.

Blake was standing in front of the stage with his mouth hanging open. Joey was...poor. _What the fuck? Those people who I thought were Joey's parents were actually actors? They were even friends with my parents...but that was all a lie._ Blake felt hurt and betrayed at first. Joey had lied to them all those years but...he could understand it a little better now.

Blake had been extremely superficial. He probably would have rejected Joey knowing the truth, but after experiencing how the other half of society lived because of Rosalie Galloway - Blake opinions about the poor had changed. Blake had changed. He would no longer reject Joey because of a thing like 'social status'. Joey was his friend... _had been_ his friend...

He wouldn't reject Joey because of his secret. And Joey's parents - his _real_ parents - were alive and that was indeed a blessing. Blake couldn't help but wonder if Joey had waited so long to reveal the truth because of him. Had Joey known that Blake would have rejected him because of his social status? And now that Blake was dead Joey no longer had to fear that rejection and so had decided to come clean _now_. Blake frowned at the thought.

Apparently, Devon had taken the news rather well...and as for Vincent...? Blake looked up on stage to see Vincent clapping Joey on the back and smiling. Joey then introduced Vincent to Joey's parents and Blake watched enviously as Vincent put a kiss on Mrs. Bones' hand causing her to turn bright red. Devon was introduced to Joey's parents next.

Blake turned around and began to walk away. He couldn't bear to watch anymore. He darkly realized that while he was alive he had never met Joey's real parents. And now that he was dead he'd never get the chance. His friends were all moving on without him...

Had Joey assumed that Blake would have rejected his parents? And would that assumption been wrong? Blake shook his head. No. Joey was right. The old Blake before Rosalie Galloway came into his life probably would have rejected Joey's parents because the old Blake had been an arrogant, superficial bastard.

And maybe he still was, but...he had changed a little. And that change was slowly happening because of Rosalie Galloway.

### Chapter 11: Psycho Killer

Blake left Ro's body and the medium stumbled forward as she got used to being in control of her body again. She watched the ghost float away from her with his head hanging down dejectedly. Ro quirked her head at the ghost wondering what had upset him. She looked back at the stage where Vincent and Devon were currently being introduced to Joey's parents - his _real_ parents.

Ro had been surprised to learn that Joey had poor parents just like her. But Joey had worked hard and become an exception bass guitarist. He was now a millionaire. Ro wondered if she could work hard at something too and better her family's financial situation. Maybe after this was all over and she had discovered Blake's murderer she could go back to trying to get hired as a nurse.

Ro was feeling a little envious that Joey had been so easily accepted by his fellow band mates despite his origins. She wondered how they would react when the truth eventually came out that she had been lying to them as well. _We're more alike than I thought._ Ro thought as she looked at the stage where Joey was embracing his parents. Ro felt a pang of pain in her chest. She had just had to pretend that her parents weren't her parents too, but for very different reasons. She was just trying to protect them but...it had still hurt. Ro hadn't seen her mother since she left their house all those years ago. _Mom. It was good seeing you again._ Ro found Carrie, and the two girls headed for Blake's Maserati. However-

"Hey! Ro! Carrie! Wait up!" Sadie called after the two girls rushing towards them. Ro and Carrie turned around to regard Sadie curiously. The female rockstar was bent over with her hands on her thighs as she panted for breath.

"Hey girl, what's up?" Carrie asked casually.

Sadie looked up and smiled. "I just wanted to invite you both to the Christmas party Devon and I are hosting back at his place. You're the band's new singer..." Sadie looked at Ro and then turned to Carrie. "And you're the band's stylist. You both _have_ to be there."

Ro was so moved and surprised by the unexpected invite that she just stood frozen while gaping at Sadie without giving the female rockstar an answer. The medium had never gone to a Christmas party with _friends_ before. She'd always spent her Christmases with her family and after Belladonna had left Ro and her father, Christmases had become a very simple affair with just the two of them celebrating. Now Ro was down to just herself and had been planning on spending the rest of Christmas alone...or rather with Blake at his apartment.

She blinked at Sadie Skellington. A _friend_ had never invited her to a party before. During all her school years she had been too busy studying to make friends and keeping everyone at arm's length so that they wouldn't think she was crazy because of her condition that she could see ghosts.

Sadie raised an eyebrow at the gloomy girl and raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Luckily, Carrie had been with Ro and the witch agreed to the invite on both their behalves when she saw that her friend was unable to answer. "We'll definitely be there. Thanks for the invite, Sadie."

Sadie's mouth twitched as if it wanted to frown at the Goth, but she just laughed to cover up her awkwardness and smiled. "No problem. I'll see you both there later then at eight o'clock." Sadie skipped off.

Carrie watched her go suspiciously. "She's totally up to something. I _so_ don't trust that two-faced little bitch..."

Ro frowned at the Goth. "I think she's nice."

Carrie gave Ro a disbelieving look. "You would."

Ro drove Carrie and Blake to the _Blu Beverly Hills_ apartment building where Devon's apartment was on the top floor. They arrived at _Blu Beverly Hills_ and Ro parked Blake's silver Maserati in the underground parking garage. The trio walked past the reception desk and took the elevator to the 7th floor. Devon's apartment was number 707. The elevator door opened and the medium, witch and ghost made their way down the hall and towards the apartment. Carrie rang the doorbell boldly.

"Coming!" Came a sing-sing voice and then Sadie was opening Devon's apartment door. Sadie stared at Carrie and Ro a moment before smiling widely. "Hey girls, welcome! Come right in, the party's already getting started..."

Sadie threw the door wide open and ushered the girls inside. Ro and Carrie gaped at the sight before them. Sadie had decorated Devon's apartment from floor to ceiling with flashy Christmas decorations. Draping garlands of pine and red ribbon, frosted pinecones, colorful ornaments and gilded ribbons, potted red poinsettias, decorated pine wreaths, and twinkling Christmas lights. There was even a beautiful eight-foot-tall Christmas tree with a blue, silver and white theme.

Sadie had set up special festive cocktails and yummy looking hors d'oeuvres on the kitchen island. Punk rock music was pouring out of the speakers of Devon's entertainment center and the thumping bass was making the floor vibrate. Carrie recognized the song from the band _Bad Religion_ called _American Jesus_. The girls spotted Devon, Joey and Vincent standing around the foosball table. Devon was playing against Joey while Vincent watched. Devon had a cigarette perched between his lips as he played, a look of concentration on his face. Joey was grinning and laughing like an idiot. Vincent was sipping a beer and smiling.

Ro was very impressed with the elaborate decorations. She had never seen anything like it before. "Did you and Devon do all this?" It looked a little like Winter Wonderland or the North Pole in Devon's apartment. Ro wouldn't have been surprised if an elf peeked its head out from behind a potted poinsettia, or if Santa Claus walked out of the bathroom gripping his stomach, or even if a reindeer waked inside from the balcony.

Sadie looked surprised Ro had spoken to her. The girl was so weird and quiet! "Ah, actually I did this all by myself. Devon didn't even want to have a party, but come on - it's Christmas! Who doesn't have a party on Christmas or at least go to some party on Christmas, right?" Sadie took out a cigarette, lit it with her pink Zippo and took a drag.

"Right..." Ro readily replied, trying to act natural.

Carrie whistled as she looked around Devon's plush apartment and the sparkling decorations. She was also extremely impressed. Especially, by the artwork that hung in Devon's apartment. "This is a awesome apartment...there's even a popcorn machine..."

Sadie grinned. "It's only fitting that my killer boyfriend has a killer apartment. You are what you own after all. Isn't that right, Ro?"

Blake frowned at Sadie's careless comment: ' _you are what you own after all_ '. Blake used to be able to agree with that. When someone had asked him in the past who he was he would list his occupation and some of his assets. But now that he was dead and he had left his precious possessions behind, he wondered what he had been left with. Without his penthouse suite, Maserati, and Lamborghini coffee maker, Blake wouldn't help but think to himself: _Who am I?_ Blake put a hand on his chest. There was this deep emptiness inside of him along with an unquenchable thirst for revenge.

"Ah, yea." Ro said agreeably. But at the moment Ro wondered what she really owned? Blake had given her everything she currently had. She barely owned the shirt on her back. What then was she left with? Who was Ro Ripper without all her expensive clothes and accessories? Who was Rosalie Galloway? _Who am I? A nurse? A stylist? A singer? A nobody?_ "Who am I?" Ro murmured to herself softly in a voice only she could hear.

But Blake was standing right next to Ro and heard her words. He was surprised Ro was echoing his own dark thoughts. "You're... _you_. Rosalie Galloway. Duh." Blake informed the medium.

Ro jumped a little since she hadn't been expecting a response and smiled at the rockstar ghost. If she didn't know any better she'd think that the ghost was trying to comfort her.

The rockstars - Devon, Joey, and Vincent - caught sight of the girls as they walked in.

Predictably, Joey immediately became distracted, grinned at Ro, and waved. "Hey! Ro! You made it! Sweet. Get your butt over here so you can give me good luck!"

_Good luck? More like I'll probably end up cursing him._ Ro smiled softly and waved at Joey in a shy manner.

_Chance!_ Devon took Joey's distraction as an opportunity to score a goal against Joey with a flick of his wrist he made his foosball player kick the ball into Joey's goal. "Goal."

"What?" Joey looked down at the table with a horrified expression on his face. "Shit...best out of ten?"

"You're on." Devon agreed and they dropped the ball in the center of the table and began another fast-paced game. Devon kept quiet while he played but Joey was incredibly vocal and made several exclamations as he played: "Ooo...ahhhh! Oh no! Yes...yes...yes! No, wait!"

"If you're this vocal playing foosball I hate to think what your girlfriend has to put up with in bed, Joey Bones." Vincent chuckled at their antics. His friends could get super competitive! Joey flushed at Vincent's comment but chose to ignore the playboy drummer. "Ladies, come over here." Vincent waved at Carrie and Ro.

Carrie blushed at Vincent, who was still dressed in the red suit she had designed for him for the concert and looking quite handsome in it. Vincent noticed that both girls had shopping bags in their hands. Ro and Carrie approached the foosball table while Sadie headed back towards the kitchen. "Hey, what can I get you girls to drink?" The female rockstar called out.

"I'll have a beer. Thanks!" Carrie shouted.

"What about you, Ro?" Sadie asked.

"Uh...um..." Ro stuttered, she didn't really like beer...

"Hey, Sadie, hun...open that bottle of champagne I bought, would ya? The Möet and Chandon Rosé. I bought it specifically for Ro since she likes sweet drinks and it has a low alcoholic content. She should like it. Be a dear and bring Ro a glass, would ya?" Devon said in a casual drawling tone as he took a drag from his cigarette.

Sadie's eye twitched and she tried to keep a straight face. Devon had bought _that_ champagne for Ro?! She thought Devon had purchased it for her?! _Grrrr...._ Sadie bit down on her cigarette angrily and nearly chomped it in two.

"Of course, darling." Sadie called back, her voice slightly strained and with a tinge of sarcasm to it. "Ehehehe." The female rockstar fetched a beer from the fridge and began to open the bottle of champagne.

Ro looked at everyone and decided that now would be a good opportunity to give everyone the gifts she had for them. "Um...excuse me..." Ro got everyone's attention and blushed when everyone's eyes fell upon her. "Ah...presents..." Ro held up the bag before her.

Devon raised an eyebrow at Ro. "You got us all presents? That was really sweet of you, Ro. You didn't have to do that." He blew out a long stream of smoke.

Ro shook her head. "I made them..."

"Made?" Devon echoed. Now everyone was curious.

Ro reached into the shopping bag and handed Devon a crocheted, black and blue checkered scarf. "This is for you."

Devon immediately wrapped it around his neck. He touched the scarf, which was surprisingly soft and warm. "This is nice. Thank you, Ro."

"Ooo. You got a present in there for me too? Right? Right?" Joey asked excitedly as he bounded over to Ro.

Ro nodded, smiled, and reached into the shopping bag and pulled out a crochet knit hat with a fuzzy ball on top. It was yellow and had black horizontal stripes. She handed it to Joey. "Sweet!" Joey put the hat on his head. "It fits perfectly."

Feeling pleased with herself, Ro reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of blood-red gloves next that had black crosses on them, and handed them towards Vincent. "For you."

Vincent gave Ro a surprised look. "For me? Thank you, my dear." Vincent looked touched and surprised by Ro's gift.

"Your hands...I noticed that they're always so cold..." Ro said softly in a voice that only Vincent could hear.

Vincent gave Ro a surprised look and smiled fondly at her. "Thank you for thinking about me, dear lady. That was very sweet of you." He put the gloves on and flexed his fingers.

Ro blushed. Vincent was crazy attractive. Even the simple act of putting on a pair of gloves...was kind of hot.

"Ah, that reminds me." Carrie piped up suddenly. "I was shopping with Ro for my family when I came across something I thought would suit you, Vincent." Carrie held her shopping bag out to Vincent. "I bought it on a whim...it doesn't mean anything..." Carrie explained as she waved her hand through the air.

Vincent's ruby-red eyes were wide as he took the shopping bag from Carrie. "Thank you, my lady." Vincent reached into the bag and pulled out a long, red silk scarf. It had golden tassels on it. "Wow...this is beautiful. Isn't this _Prada_?"

Carrie nodded.

Vincent immediately put the scarf around his neck and smiled sexily at Carrie. She couldn't stop her cheeks from heating up at the sight of that teasing smile.

Blake was looking back and forth between Carrie and Vincent with a huge scowl on his face. "No...no, this is not good!"

Ro fished around in the shopping bag and pulled out a crocheted cell phone protector that was purple and black, and held it out to Carrie. "For you, my friend." _My first true friend..._

"Wow...a cell phone protector. Thank you! My other one is crap!" Carrie surprised Ro by giving her a big hug. "Thank you so much. You're such a sweetheart."

Ro felt warmth spread through her chest. It was nice to have a friend.

Sadie had arrived with Ro's glass of champagne and Carrie's beer by this time. She eyed everyone's handmade gifts curiously. "You made those yourself? By hand? Impressive...though I would think a Pro Stylist would be able to make something more complex and profession that a few crocheted items." Sadie declared as she handed Carrie her beer and Ro her glass of champagne.

Meanwhile, Blake was fuming. He had specifically told Ro that she wasn't supposed to get these guys anything for Christmas, and yet Ro had ignored him and made everyone handmade Christmas presents anyways.

"ROOO! What the fuck?" Blake growled at her. "Didn't I tell you not to get these guys presents? Why aren't you listening to me? Are you frickin ignoring me, beggar girl? I'll kick your ass!"

The lights in the apartment began to flicker ominously and a lamp that was on a nearby table began to sway so that the crystals that hung from its shade began to tinkle.

"I prefer gifts like this that are obviously made by hand. They have more meaning to them." Devon drawled as he blew out a cloud of smoke in Sadie's direction.

Sadie coughed and frowned as she waved her hand in front of her to dispel the smoke.

Ro moved to stand in front of Sadie and held the shopping bag out to her. "I made you something too." She smiled tremulously at the incredible rockstar.

Sadie gave Ro a surprised look. "You did? For me?" Sadie reached into the bag and pulled out four, pink and black, handmade, crocheted coasters. The first coaster had a flower pattern on it, the second a skull, the third a skull with a princess crown on it and the last one had the design of a flower with a skull in its center. They were very _Sadie Skellington_.

Sadie wouldn't admit it aloud but she really liked the coasters. They were definitely her style and were really Gothic-cute. "Uh...thanks." Sadie seemed at a loss of what to think about Ro's gift, and different emotions flickered in her blue eyes: happiness, sadness, and guilt among them.

Ro smiled, happily oblivious to Sadie's inner conflict and thinking that the singer had liked her gift. As the party continued, Vincent pulled Carrie aside and began to dance with her to the thumping beat of the punk rock music that was floating out of the speakers in Devon's apartment. Carrie tried to escape Vincent's grasp, but he began to spin her around he room. Carrie began to laugh and Blake glared at the couple disapprovingly. "Definitely not good..."

Joey meanwhile challenged Ro to a game of foosball and creamed her. Devon and Sadie sat on the couch intimately close while the female rockstar fed him mini hot dogs. The party was going smoothly, until-

The doorbell rang.

"Oh! I'll get it!" Sadie declared as she quickly stood up from the couch and bounded for the door.

Joey looked at the door curiously. "Was anyone else invited?"

Devon shrugged. "Hell if I know." _I didn't even want to have a party._ Devon took out a new cigarette, lit it and took a long drag from it to calm his nerves. He had a bad feeling about who might be at the door. He noticed Vincent eyeing him and held his pack of cigarettes out to the drummer. "Would you like a smoke?"

"Sure, thanks, man." Vincent took a cigarette, put it between his lips and lit it. He took a long drag and hummed happily to himself as nicotine entered his lungs.

The door to the apartment opened and-

_The Necromancers_ entered Devon's apartment! Damion Hellsing, Morg Di Morte, and Gol Gotha - the party crashers had arrived. Vincent's top three fan girls known as his 'brides' were also at the door. Annabel was a tall, pale-skinned Asian woman with long, thick black hair and straight bangs. Annabel was the Leader of the Vincent Sangre fan club. She had a sophisticated air about her and was dressed in a high-necked Victorian style dress.

Candra was the cute one. She had blonde ringlets of hair that framed her face and wide blue eyes. She was wearing a black and white Victorian-style dress that was all ruffles and lace. Candra looked just like a porcelain Victorian doll and even had a bonnet on her head.

Scarlett was the fiery redhead of the trio. She was also the most sensuous with her voluptuous curves. Scarlett had flowing red hair that went past her shoulders, bright emerald green eyes and a wicked smile. She was wearing a red, medieval style dress with a tight lace-up corset.

Damion Hellsing - the lead guitarist of _The Necromancers_ was a total Goth. He had his orange rockstar hair with black tips perfectly spiked up with gel. His face was painted white and his lips were painted black. Even though he was wearing white face makeup it couldn't hide the dark shadows that were under his eyes due to his insomnia. Damion was wearing a long-sleeved, fishnet shirt with a t-shirt that had a vulgar image on it over top. Over that he was wearing a long, black leather trench coat, black leather pants and some black boots with lots of buckles. The several piercing in his ears, his nose piercing, and his lip piercing gleamed as the many decorative lights shone upon him. Several silver chains dangled from around his neck also catching the light - most of them had satanic images like upside crosses and demonic faces.

Morg Di Morte - the seventeen-year-old bass guitarist of _The Necromancers_ also had his face painted white with black accents. He was wearing a neon-green, half-shirt with a black skull on it that showed off his abs and his bellybutton ring. He was wearing a pair of shorts that were made out of a tight, green, faux leather material. There was a belt around his waist with a radioactive symbol on it that was green and black. The bass guitarist had on a pair of combat boots with green laces. His overall look for that evening was 'toxic'. His tongue was dangling out of his mouth as he eyed the hors d'oeuvres and he looked a little like a panting, hungry dog.

Gol Gotha - the drummer of _The Necromancers_ was wearing his usual white skull mask that hid the features of his face. His shaggy, black, rockstar hair hung about his shoulders in a wild manner. He was wearing a long-sleeved, chain-mail shirt with wider rings this time making the shirt almost see-through, so that Gol's nipples were visible beneath the shirt. He was wearing a pair of black leather pants with metal rings on them and a pair of black boots. He looked like some kind of modern Gothic knight.

The three heavy metal rockstars entered Devon's apartment as if they owned the place...

"Hey darling," Sadie said in a singsong voice. "My band mates decided to stop by, as well as Vincent's brides. Isn't that great? They wanted to meet the new lead singer of _Erotic Corpses_."

"The party beast has arrived!" Damion announced as he sauntered into the room. "Me."

Devon's temple began to throb in irritation. "That's great, honey..." Devon tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

Devon, Joey, and Vincent immediately seemed on their guard.

Candra, Scarlett and Annabel sashayed over to Vincent and began to drag him towards the pool table while begging him to teach them how to play. The drummer had no choice but to go along with the lovely ladies and leave Carrie behind. In fact, Vincent completely ignored Carrie and acted as if she weren't there.

Carrie frowned. Vincent was acting like their intimate dancing moment had never happened. And that surprisingly hurt.

Blake was looking pleased with this development as he shooed Vincent away from Carrie with his hand. "That's right...shoo, you playboy and leave Carrie alone. I'm on to you, buddy."

Damion looked around Devon's apartment with a critical eye and snorted. "This is it? These are the only people you invited to your big Christmas party? Where are the babes? LAME." Damion sneered as his lips twisted oddly with the word. He walked over to the entertainment center and turned the volume up all the way so that the walls of Devon's apartment began to vibrate from the now blasted, thumping rock music.

"Let's get this party started. We need to kick things up a notch! YEA!" Damion yelled punching the air with his fist. "Where's the booze? I need to get wasted..."

Blake slapped a hand to his forehead as he watched Damion's antics. "Some things never change."

"Who the hell invited these shitheads?" Joey muttered to Vincent.

"Who do you think? The Pink Demoness." Vincent muttered back.

"Shit..." Joey swore.

Damion looked around until his eyes settled on Ro and Carrie. "Which of you girls is the new lead singer of _Erotic Corpses_?" Damion demanded as he stalked toward the girls.

Vincent left his brides for a moment so that he could go stand protectively in front of Carrie. Joey made a similar safeguarding gesture and stood in front of Ro. Ro swallowed, beginning to feel nervous due to Vincent and Joey's watchful behavior. _Should I be worried about something?_ The medium wondered.

Blake floated next to Ro. "This asshole is Damion Hellsing - the lead guitarist of _The Necromancers_. And let's not forget a murder suspect." Blake reminded Ro, in order to keep her on her toes.

"I-I am." Ro managed to get out as she moved to stand next to Joey instead. She recalled seeing Damion celebrating with champagne at Blake's funeral and recognized him from the high school photos she'd seen.

Damion looked Ro up and down with a critical eye. He shrugged. "Fuckable."

Joey lunged at Damion as if he wanted to punch him, but Vincent grabbed onto Joey and held him back by putting the bass guitarist in an arm lock.

Damion laughed, amused by Joey's hotheaded antics. "I heard you sing over the radio, Ro...you weren't half bad, but not as good as my eternal rival Blake White used to be. But still...very close..." Damion praised Ro but he had this deep scowl on his face.

Damion looked at Joey and raised an eyebrow at him. "Chill dude, I'm not going to deflower your little girlfriend on Devon's expensive carpet. I'll leave that to you - make sure you do a good job. Well, as good as you can. Heh." Damion looked pointedly at Joey's crotch and gave the bass guitarist a pitying look.

Damion looked at Carrie next, looking her up and down and his eyes settled on her breasts that were being pushed up by her black lace corset. Damion licked his lips unabashedly as he leered at Carrie's breasts. "Vincent Sangre. You always did have good taste. Heh."

"We're not together." Vincent quickly stated and looked at his brides out of the corner of his eye nervously. He knew that they were watching him very closely. "Carrie Ashmore is our new stylist."

Damion ignored his obvious lie and tossed Vincent something. Vincent easily caught the item and when he opened the palm of his hand realized that Damion had given him a condom.

"You're _large_ \- at least according to the tweets your former conquests put up on your Twitter page. Make sure you use protection so that after you dump her ass in a month I can have your sloppy seconds." Damion licked his lips in a lewd gesture.

Carrie turned bright red and clenched her fists at her sides. _I'm so going to place a curse on this asshole! He has no idea who he's messing with!_

Damion handed a condom to Joey next. "You're size small, aren't you?" He teased.

"Fucking bastard!" Joey tossed the condom aside. "You're dead!"

Again Joey lunged at Damion violently, but Vincent held his struggling friend back. "Calm yourself, Joey."

"Let me the fuck go, Vincent!" Joey raged as she struggled in Vincent's grip. "Argh!"

Damion cackled loudly, throwing his head back. "You guys are _so_ uptight! What's the _point_ of a party but to get drunk, drugged up, listen to rock music and then have wild _sex_? DUH? What kind of rockstars are you guys? It's a good thing I came here..." Damion looked directly at Ro again \- who blushed. This rockstar was sex, drugs and rock 'n roll incarnate. Damion grinned. "Be gentle with this one Joey. I'm getting the 'virgin vibe' from her!"

Ro's eyes widened with surprise. Was Damion a mind reader? "H-H-How did you know?"

"Idiot!" Blake shouted at her.

Damion's eyes widened in shock. "Ahahaha! I was right?" Damion's attention was suddenly caught by Carrie's pentagram necklace though. He reached out and grabbed it before she could react. "Is that...? Ah, no, it's just a normal pentagram. I happen to have a similar necklace. I am a Satanist. I assume you are a Wicca Witch, a worshipper of the Goddess?"

Carrie nodded. "I am."

Damion let go of Carrie's necklace and stepped back. "Sweet." He grinned at her. "Lilith is one of the Goddess' forms, you know. For those of you who don't know who Lilith is...she was Adam's first wife but she refused to lie below him and so was thrown out of the Garden of Eden. Then she met Samael (one of Satan's forms) and became his lover and spawned hundreds of demon children. The Goddess and the Angel of Darkness need more followers." Damion was distracted by the sight of Sadie and Devon getting comfy on the couch together next. A flash of jealous crossed his visage.

Damion abruptly left Ro, Carrie, Vincent and Joey and made his way to Sadie and Devon next. The heavy metal guitarist tossed a condom to Devon who caught it between his index and middle finger out of reflex.

"Extra Large, right?" Damion teased.

"That's right. Thanks man." Devon said casually as he put the condom in his pocket.

Damion laughed at that and plopped down onto the couch next to Devon and slung his arm around Devon's shoulders. "You're like way more normal than your band mates, man. They're acting like a bunch of prudes over there! You and Sadie have to make up for those guys being idiots and have at least five orgasms tonight."

"Just five?" Devon smirked smugly.

Damion cackled in amusement, watching Sadie out of the corner of his eye.

Meanwhile, Morg Di Morte had gone over to the kitchen island and was eating all of the hors d'oeuvres and washing them down with beer after beer. His shirt had mysteriously disappeared and his pierced nipples were now visible.

Sadie noticed that Morg was eating handfuls of her painstakingly crafted hors d'oeuvres and immediately became incensed. "Ah! Morg! What the hell do you think you're doing, punk?!" Sadie got up from the couch and went over to punish Morg.

"Whaaa?" Morg asked innocently, his mouth full of food.

"Argh! You glutton!" Sadie reached out, grabbed Morg's ear, and twisted it.

"Ow! Oh...oh...ahhh! Oh yes, Sadie...hurt me more..." Morg cried out in pain but then let out a moan of pleasure as a sudden wave of desire crashed through his trained body. His body began to tremble. He pinched his nipples that began to harden with his hands as he began to get aroused by Sadie's rough treatment.

"I brought something to liven this party up." Damion declared as he took out a large block of plastic wrapped cocaine and slammed it down on Devon's coffee table.

"Holy shit..." Devon muttered, the blood draining from his face.

Meanwhile, Gol grabbed himself a bottle of rum at the bar, a glass with ice, and took a seat directly across the table from Devon and Damion. He calmly and silently poured himself a drink and stuck a straw into his glass. He then took a slow sip of the rum through the straw while still wearing his mask. He watched Devon and Damion intently, curious to see what the outcome of his band mate's crazy antics would be.

Damion took out a piece of paper, poured some coke onto it, and began to divide the powder into doses to be snuffed. Damion rolled a hundred dollar bill into a tube, leaned over and snorted the first dose up his nose.

"Mmm...yea...that's good quality stuff. This half a kilo cost me only $6,500." Damion began to make another dose and handed Devon the rolled hundred dollar bill. "Come on, man, live a little."

Devon hesitated.

"FUUCK." Blake groaned as he caught sight of what Damion was up to. "Damion that bastard. Devon was a drug addict for a while and even had to go to rehab. He's finally clean again. At least from what I can tell..." Blake said to Ro with a surprisingly worried expression on his face.

Ro's eyes widened in horror and with concern for Devon. _Devon used to do drugs?_ Damion was actually doing cocaine at this house party?! She felt faint. What if there was a drug bust or something? She thought wildly. Her heart beginning to hammer within her chest a mile a minute. Ro reached out and grabbed Joey's shirtsleeve. "Joey...do something. Devon is..."

Joey looked at Devon and froze. "Oh shit..." Joey ran over to Devon and Damion, and glared at the heavy metal guitarist. "What the fuck? Damion...you know Devon's got to stay away from that shit! Haven't you read the tabloids?!"

Sadie crushed her cigarette out on Morg's bare back.

Morg hissed in a combination of pain and pleasure as the cigarette burned his flesh with a small sizzle. " _Ah_ ..."

Sadie sauntered over at that moment, done punishing Morg, and took the rolled hundred dollar bill from Devon, leaned over the table, and snorted the dose of cocaine. She plopped back down on the couch next to Devon. "You need to relax." She purred in his ear.

Before Ro even realized it she was alone...Carrie and Vincent had gone out on the balcony to speak alone, and to avoid Vincent's brides, and so Morg spotted her and strut over to her with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

For some reason the young man no longer had his shorts on and was now standing in front of Ro in nothing but his black boxers that had tiny nooses all over them.

"Hi." Morg said as he stood in front of Ro and stared at her. "I'm Morg Di Morte."

Ro looked at the half-naked seventeen-year-old in shock. "I'm Ro..."

"Yea, I know, Ro Ripper. Cool name. So Ro are you really a virgin?" Morg leaned forward to ask, his face only about an inch away from hers.

"Yes." Ro squeaked.

Morg gave Ro a confused look. "Why?"

"I-I'm saving myself for-" Ro stuttered as she tried to explain how she was saving herself for marriage. She knew her thinking was old-fashioned but this is what she had decided for herself.

Morg cut her off and leaned even closer so that she could feel his breath on her lips. "Sex is a lot of fun. I _love_ sex. I have sex all the time...and I like older women. You look older than me...but I usually like older, _experienced_ women who know what they're doing and what they want." Morg whispered in Ro's ear and licked her earlobe causing Ro to shudder. "Would you like me to help you get rid of your pesky virginity? You can use me any way you want...like a toy. You can tie me up and do whatever you want to me."

Ro blushed bright red. The medium looked around, expecting someone to come to her rescue. Where was everyone?! Apparently, she would just have to save herself. Morg was still nibbling Ro's earlobe when she put her hands on Morg's shoulders and began to push him backwards. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Hey, have you ever seen a dick before?" Morg asked suddenly.

Ro stiffened up at that. _Of course I've seen what one looks like...in medical books that is._

"If you're a virgin you've never seen one...how about I show you mine? I bet you're curious. I have this really neat piercing..." Morg was saying conversationally as he began to slide his boxers down.

_Oh my God!_ Ro was beginning to get freaked out. And then the person she least expected to save her did-

BONK! Sadie hit Morg over the top of his head with her fist. "Morg! You perverted idiot! What the fuck, are you doing? Can't you keep your clothes on _for once_! You are so _embarrassing_! Gah!" Sadie threw her arms up into the air.

Morg rubbed his head, grinning. "Ow...Oooo...Sadieeee. Hit me again, please?"

Sadie made a noise of disgust with her hands on her hips and gave Morg a repulsed look. "Go eat some more snacks and try to behave. I have to talk to my friend Ro about something important." Sadie declared and kicked Morg's ass in the direction of the kitchen island making sure that her sharp heel dug into Morg's soft flesh painfully.

"Ah...!" Morg moaned in delight. "Yes, Mistress! Right away Mistress!"

Sadie turned and gave Ro an apologetic look. "I'm really sorry about that...he has no sense of decorum. He says he just doesn't like wearing clothes. That they feel...confining. He's always just taking his clothes off - it doesn't matter where we are either! Gah! So embarrassing...but he is a really good bass guitarist. Can you believe I found him on the street like a stray cat? But anyways, here." Sadie handed Ro a glass of champagne. Sadie was holding one herself. She gave Ro a conspiratorial look. "Look, I need to talk to you about Devon."

"Devon?" Ro's interest was immediately piqued.

Sadie's expression turned worried. She looked behind her at Devon, Damion, Gol and Joey at the coffee table. "Not here...I need to speak to you alone. It's a matter of life and death."

"A matter of life and death? Okay..." Ro instantly agreed.

Sadie let out a breath of relief and smiled. "Follow me." Ro and Sadie snuck out of the apartment and took the elevator down to the first floor. The girls exited the apartment building and Sadie led Ro over to a bench.

The two girls took a seat. Sadie took a sip of her champagne before she began speaking. "Ever since Blake died...Devon has been suffering greatly but has been hiding it from everyone. Even his two best friends. After we fuck and we both fall asleep...he usually wakes me up around three or four in the morning. He gets up and leaves the bedroom to go sit alone at his bar and drinks. He drinks until he passes out. He doesn't know that I know...and I think maybe he's doing drugs again..." Sadie chewed on her lower lip.

Ro gave Sadie a worried look and took a large gulp of her champagne to try and steady her nerves. "Oh no..."

"You don't know this but Devon was in Rehab...he had a serious drug problem and almost died from it. I don't want to see him fall apart like Blake did...I don't want to lose him too..." Sadie turned her head to reveal that her blue eyes were filling with tears. "Oh Ro, I don't know what I should do!"

"This is bullshit." Blake growled from where he was floating next to Ro. "I never fell apart! I never did cocaine or shot up heroin either. Protecting my voice and my body are my top priority. I mean, it always _was_ my top priority..."

Ro took another gulp of her champagne. "I think you should just stay by his side and continue to support him, Sadie. But I don't think you should do cocaine either..."

Sadie blushed. "Ah, that was...so Devon wouldn't have to do it, ya know?"

"I see..." Ro's eyelids felt heavy for some reason and she let out a yawn. All of a sudden she felt so tired. Ro stood up on unsteady legs. "We should get back..." Ro stumbled forward as she tried to walk towards the apartment building and Sadie stood up to catch her before she could fall flat on her face.

"Ro! What the fuck is going on? Sadie, you bitch! What did you do to Ro?!" Blake yelled at the female rockstar.

"I'm so sleepy..." Ro suddenly passed out.

Sadie grinned and set Ro's unconscious body down on the bench. She then whipped out her cell phone. She sent a quick text message and sat down on the bench next to Ro to wait.

Ten minutes later, a black Mercedes Benz convertible with tan leather interior, pulled up in front of the _Blu Beverly Hills_ apartment building. A man wearing a black fedora, a long gray trench coat, and a pair of _Ray-Ban_ sunglasses got out of the car and approached Sadie and Ro. Blake didn't recognize the man until he took off the sunglasses.

"Dr. Cole?" Blake spat. "Holy fuck!" Blake swore and tried to possess Ro's body. But because she was drugged and completely unconscious this was preventing Blake from possessing her body. "Oh shit!"

Dr. Cole approached Sadie and the sleeping Ro, a wide smile on his handsome face. "You used the drug I gave you?"

"Yes." Sadie nodded.

The handsome doctor looked Ro over. "It looks like it worked perfectly. You've done splendidly, to deliver my sleeping beauty to me."

"Yea, yea, hurry up and take her." Sadie groused.

Dr. Cole easily hoisted Ro up into his arms and carried her over to his car. He opened the passenger side door and gently placed Ro inside before closing the door after her.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Ro is being kidnapped! That idiot!" Blake swore loudly. "Joey...you fool! You were supposed to be looking out for her!"

Dr. Cole headed to the driver's side door of his Benz.

"Oh no, you don't, you bastard!" Blake yelled as he charged towards Dr. Cole and flung a punch at the bastard's smug face.

But Blake's fist just passed right through Dr. Cole's face.

"Shit! Fucking bastard!" Blake spun and sent a roundhouse kick at Dr. Cole's chin. But Blake's combat boot just passed through Dr. Cole's chin as Blake's trench coat billowed behind him.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" Blake swore as he punched and kicked Dr. Cole, but his efforts continued to have no effect. _Dammit...!_

Dr. Cole got in behind the wheel and leaned out over his lowered window to smile at Sadie. "Who would have thought that behind that sweet attitude and cute face of yours existed such a cruel girl?"

Sadie put her nose up into the air. "And who would have thought that behind such a professional façade Dr. Cole was actually a psycho pervert."

Dr. Cole's dark blue eyes flashed. "Touché."

Sadie flipped her hair. "Besides, what are you talking about Dr. Cole - _I am_ a sweet girl... _this_ never happened. Well, I better get back to the party. Devon Decayn is waiting for me."

Dr. Cole saluted Sadie and sat back into his seat. He looked at Ro's unconscious form in the seat next to him and smiled. "I have you caged now, little bird. You won't escape. Your heart belongs to me."

"Dammit!" Blake swore as he floated into the car and into the back seat. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled as his anxiety began to steadily increase. There was really nothing he could do for now except see where Dr. Cole was taking Ro.

The heart surgeon pulled into the street, drove down the road for a few minutes before turning left onto a busier freeway, and smoothly merged into traffic. He began to make his way back to his Beverly Hills mansion at top speed. Dr. Cole was incredibly impatient to return home.

Ten minutes later, Dr. Cole was pulling up in front of a pretentious iron gate. The doctor pressed a button on a remote he had inside his car and the gate began to open. Dr. Cole drove onto the graveled driveway and continued towards his mansion home. Several Doberman pinschers surrounded and barked at the Benz ferociously as Dr. Cole parked his Benz right in front of the mansion's main entrance. The doctor got out of the car and walked to the passenger side of the Benz before opening it. He scooped Ro up into his arms and made his way to the front door.

Blake floated behind Dr. Cole as he carried Ro to the front door. He looked up to take a good look at the Beverly Hills mansion. It was an impressive building with three floors, pink stucco walls, and Spanish tiled roofs. There were lots of windows and balconies. The front door was made of a deep brown mahogany wood. There were glowing wall sconces all around the exterior of the building. The foliage surrounding the mansion was a combination of tropical plants, and palm trees.

_The bastard has a nice place. It reminds me of my family home that was burned down._ Blake though with a conflicted pang.

The dogs surrounded Dr. Cole and barked at the sleeping Ro in his arms. Dr. Cole turned his fierce gaze upon them. "Down boys. Sleeping beauty here is _mine_." The doctor declared and the dogs immediately fell silent.

Dr. Cole opened the front door while balancing Ro on one leg and entered his mansion. The heart surgeon closed the door behind them and Blake was just about to float right through the door when the Dobermans started barking at him and blocked his path.

"Hah?" Blake turned to face the barking and growling dogs. "Can you flea-bitten mutts see me?"

The Dobermans responded by lunging at Blake in an aggressive fashion. Blake dodged out of the way out of pure reflex. "Whoa! Bad doggies."

The dogs turned to attack Blake again but the ghost dodged for the hell of it. They would have just passed right through his body anyways. Blake positioned himself between two Dobermans and stood still as both Dobermans lunged at him from the right and left. "Boo!" The Dobermans passed right through Blake's body and collided in midair. The two dogs hit the ground in a rolling mass of fur, snapping maws and raking claws.

Blake laughed at the attack dogs. "Serves you right!" He said before turning and floating towards the front door. Blake passed through the front door and entered the mansion's foyer. As soon as he was inside the mansion he realized that he had lost sight of Dr. Cole.

The foyer comprised mainly of a sweeping staircase, which led to the second floor. The floor was black and white marble, expensive vases could be seen sitting in curved alcoves, tapestries hung on the walls, paintings from famous artists also hung on the walls, a large, upright stuffed bear could be seen off to the side. Dr. Cole's hobby apparently seemed to be hunting since stuffed animals heads could be seen mounted here and there upon the walls. The stuffed grizzly bear had a strange scar on its chest as if it's heart had been ripped out.

Blake heard footsteps coming from the second floor and floated up the curving staircase. He floated down a hallway and stopped outside the door of a room he thought he heard noise coming from. He floated right through the door and entered a bedroom. Blake quickly looked around the femininely decorated bedroom and was about to go when something caught his eye. "Ro?" Blake asked aloud as he floated over to a dresser that had a few framed photographs on top of it.

In one of the photographs, the one that had caught Blake's eye a young woman with long, wavy black hair and eyes just like Ro's was staring back out of the photograph. She was wearing a long pale blue dress and her hand was clasped with the man who was standing next to her. Blake looked at the man next, and his eyes widened when he realized the man must be Dr. Cole.

Dr. Cole was dressed casually in a blue, button-down, long-sleeved shirt, a pair of black slacks and some leather dress shoes. His rectangular shaped glasses were gone and his slicked back hair was messy and hung around his face in soft layers. His hand was clasped with the young woman next to him and he was smiling at her warmly, his eyes on her. He actually looked sincerely happy. He looked...normal.

Blake curiously looked at the other photographs and saw that there were more photographs of the couple inside of the picture frames. Dr. Cole looked about a decade younger in these photos.

"Just who is that woman?" Blake wondered aloud. And then there was a sudden thud coming from the room directly next to that one and so Blake decided to just phase right through the wall. Blake floated inside the room, which was illuminated. The sight that met Blake was a macabre one.

The room had been decorated like a lady's parlor with a couple of French settees situated around a rectangular-shaped coffee table. A smaller round table had comfortable looking armchairs around it, and a piano was positioned off to the side. Seated upon the furniture were several young ladies. The young ladies were wearing long flower print dresses, had long, wavy, black hair and they were all wearing feathered and sequined masks on their faces as if they were going to go to a masquerade.

Blake frowned when he realized that the women weren't moving. At all. Their chests were not rising and falling as they took in a breath.

Blake narrowed his eyes at the unnaturally still women - making Blake think at first that the young women were actually dolls or manikins.

But the truth was much much worse...

However, Blake noticed the scars on their chests where their hearts had been ripped out of their bodies.

These women were corpses. Preserved human corpses. These women were dead.

Blake knew this without a doubt because standing behind their corpses were the ghosts of the murdered women. The ghosts were different from any of the fellow ghosts Blake had seen before. The ghosts of the young women who had died in nurses' dresses looked tortured and haunted. They had sunken eye sockets, were crying black tears that seemed to be oozing out of their eyes, their chests had gaping holes where their hearts had been and black goo was oozing and dripping down the front of their white nurse dresses. They looked less 'human' than the ghosts Blake had seen before and he knew with a sinking feeling in his gut what they were - poltergeists.

Ghosts that had been on the Material Plane too long and began to lose themselves...forget who they were and turn into monsters that only had hate and fear and negative emotions inside of them.

This is what Carrie had warned Blake about...that he should cross over and move on because the longer he remained on the Material Plane - the more likely it was that he would lose himself and become a poltergeist. A ghost that would hurt indiscriminately - putting Ro in danger.

Dr. Cole had obviously murdered all of these poor young nurses and ripped their hearts out _and_ preserved their bodies - turning them into 'Corpse Dolls'. _Erotic Corpses._ Blake couldn't help but think to himself. He felt sick. _But why?_ Blake wondered. Dr. Cole had dressed the women up to look like that mysterious woman in the photograph. _Just who is she? Where is she? Or is she already dead?_

_Shit! Shit! Shit!_ Blake swore in his mind realizing that Dr. Cole was a perverted, psychopath and apparently also a serial killer.

In the very center of the room was a large metal cage. Blake's attention was drawn to it next when he could hear the sound of the cage being locked. Dr. Cole was bending down in front of the cage and a chill went down Blake's nonexistent spine when he spotted Ro inside the cage. Dr. Cole stepped back and stood up, giving Blake a good view of the cage. The cage was eight feet long, four feet wide and four feet tall. It was a gigantic dog cage with metal grating. It had a main door that locked and a tiny door what could be opened and closed to put food inside of the cage without having to unlock the larger door. Ro was lying on her side on the cage floor still unconscious.

Dr. Cole tucked the key into his pants' pocket and patted it. He smiled at Ro. "We'll have a nice chat when you wake up in a few hours." Dr. Cole declared and then he left the room, leaving Blake alone with Ro still in the cage. The door closed leaving behind a bleak sense of finality.

"Ro!" Blake flew towards Ro's cage and hovered just outside it. "Ro wake up! Shit!" Blake hovered in front of the lock and punched it and kicked it, but his blows just passed harmlessly through the lock. This feeling of helplessness and futility welled up inside of Blake and threatened to overwhelm him. "Shit...what should I do?"

Blake stared down at his useless transparent hands and truly felt _dead_ for the first time since he had woken up wandering around Rodeo Drive aimlessly.

Useless. Powerless. Pathetic.

Blake White was powerless.

_Impossible!_ _The great me can't be so powerless!_ Blake clenched his fists at his sides out of frustration. "What should I do? What _can_ I do?" Blake continued to try and break the lock for the next few hours to no avail when Ro finally began to stir. Blake floated closer to the cage and watched intently as Ro woke up.

"Mmm." Ro groaned and sat up. "Where...?" She was about to look around the room, but before she could look past the metal grate, Blake flew right in front of her in order to gain her attention.

"Ro! Don't look past the grate. Don't look at what is inside of this room. Just look at me and concentrate on me." Blake ordered her sternly.

Ro focused her ice-blue eyes on Blake's lavender ones and nodded. She trusted Blake White. "Where...?" _What's that awful smell...? Formaldehyde?_

Blake's expression was grim. "You're in Dr. Cole's mansion."

A look of confusion formed on Ro's pretty face. "Why?"

"He put you in that cage but don't worry, Ro. We'll figure out a way to get you out of there before that perverted bastard comes back. Ro - I'm going to possess you and see if I can break the lock, okay?"

Ro nodded slowly, still feeling drowsy.

Blake flew into Ro's body and possessed her with a _whoom_. When 'Ro' opened her eyes they were now glowing lavender colored.

Blake looked around the cage and focused his attention on the lock. He crawled over to the front door of the cage, raised his fist, and let it fly at the lock.

POW. The cage rattled. But the door remained closed.

Blake punched the lock again and again until his knuckles began to bleed. He looked at his hand and stopped. He could keep going but this wasn't his body and the body he was hurting was Ro's.

Blake left Ro's body and floated outside of the cage. He looked at Ro worriedly, concern etched in his handsome features. "I couldn't break the lock. I can't get you out of there. I can't help you..." Blake truly looked distraught. What good was having millions of dollars when they couldn't buy him the power to help Ro. He couldn't buy his life back from Death.

Ro flinched at the pain in her hands. The medium had never seen Blake with that kind of hopeless expression on his face before though and it surprised her greatly. He was finally caring about someone other than _himself_. He looked near tears even.

Ro immediately felt the need to reassure him. She reached her hand out to Blake and shook her head. "You did everything you could...don't worry..."

Blake reached his hand out towards Ro's. Their hands were almost touching when-

The door opened, Dr. Cole stepped inside, and closed the door behind him. He was wearing a slick, dark blue _Armani_ suit, which brought out his dark sapphire-colored eyes. He took his glasses off, folded them neatly, and put them into the front pocket of his jacket. He smoothed his hair back with his fingers. He approached the cage and stood in front of Ro. "Good morning, sleeping beauty. I see that you are finally awake."

Ro lowered her hand and clenched it into a fist on her lap. She turned around to face Dr. Cole, her legs folded beneath her. "Dr. Cole...what do you want from me?"

Dr. Cole chuckled and got down on one knee before the cage so that he could look Ro in her eyes. "I think I already told you. I want your heart to be mine. I want us to be lovers, Ro."

Ro clenched her fists in her lap and stared at Dr. Cole, directly in his eyes. _Perverted psycho._ "If you're going to rape me why don't you just get it over with, so that I can go home. I'm sure it will just take a few minutes." Ro declared bravely, a tremor in her voice, even as her body began to tremble in fear.

Dr. Cole's expression darkened. "Oh my dear Ro...I've decided that I won't force myself upon you. A girl like you...I want you to yearn for me. I want you love me. I want your heart, your love, your soul - everything." He spread his arms wide with a smile on his face.

Ro gave the mad doctor a look of disbelief. "That will never happen."

"Oh really? But don't you want to get out of that cage? If you give yourself to me willingly I will let you out of there immediately." Dr. Cole offered. "Be mine, Ro. And then, I too, will be yours."

Ro's eyes went wide at that.

Blake snarled and growled at Dr. Cole. "Fucking pervert..."

"I would never give myself willingly to a man like you, Dr. Cole." Ro stated firmly.

Dr. Cole stood up and let out a frustrated huff. "We shall see. Let's see how long you can put up with being in that cage, Rosalie. You'll be begging for me to let you out soon enough."

_Don't count on it._ Ro thought savagely.

The heart surgeon opened the miniature door on the cage that was about a foot wide and a half a foot tall, and set a cup of hot tea inside of Ro's cage. "If you have to go to the bathroom you can use the bucket over there..." Dr. Cole chuckled. He stood up, turned to go, and left the room once more.

Ro looked at the tea thoughtfully. "Do you think it's safe to drink?"

Blake shook his head. "Probably not...I'll go spy on him when he's preparing it in order to find out. You just have to hang in there until someone comes to save you."

"Hmm." Ro agreed, but deep down in her heart she knew no one would be coming.

Three days passed, and during this time Blake spied on Dr. Cole as he made Ro her tea and let the medium know when she could drink it and when she could not. Blake didn't know what he should do. No one else could see him or hear him except for Ro. Who could he possibly turn to for help?

Blake continued to spy on Dr. Cole and as was his usual routine followed the doctor all around the house. Blake followed Dr. Cole into the living room where a young woman was seated on a couch. Blake couldn't see her face because they had just entered the living room, and so only saw the back of her head of long black hair.

"Freya, my love, did you miss me?" Dr. Cole asked as he came over and took a seat next to 'Freya' on the couch and slung his arm over her shoulders. "Let's see what's on TV before dinner, shall we?" Dr. Cole asked as he picked up the remote control, turned the TV on, and began to flip through the channels.

Blake floated around the couch to see who this mysterious 'Freya' was and a chill crawled up his spine when he realized it was another dead girl - a feathered mask on her face, a scar on her chest.

Dr. Cole was hanging out with the corpse of some dead girl like it was perfectly normal.

"Fucking psycho...that's just wrong on so many levels. Who is Freya?" Blake wondered aloud.

Blake continued to observe Dr. Cole as he watched TV with Freya and made witty comments about the show they were watching directed towards her. He laughed at his own jokes and even seemed to be 'responding' to things Freya was 'saying'.

Blake's eyes widened. "He's fucking crazy..."

After Dr. Cole finished watching TV he turned it off and told Freya he'd get started on dinner. "I'm going to get started on dinner, my love. We're having your favorite...pig's heart." Dr. Cole smiled lopsidedly.

Blake followed Dr. Cole into the kitchen and watched as the man tied on a white apron before beginning to skillfully cook dinner for him and Freya. He boiled two pigs' hearts, cooked wild rice, and steamed green beans. He opened a bottle of red wine and sipped from a glass as he cooked. Once Dr. Cole was finished with dinner he prepared two plates that he took out to the dinning room.

Dr. Cole's dinning room was large and impressive. A long rectangular shaped mahogany table sat in the center of the room and could seat up to eight people. The chairs had emerald green material on the cushions. The drapes matched the cushions and were also a deep emerald green. An oil painting of Freya was hanging on the wall. Blake frowned at it. _Obsessed much?_ He thought.

Dr. Cole set the plates of food down on the table and went to get the bottle of wine and two glasses. He set the glasses down next to each plate and poured Freya a glass of wine.

Blake watched as Dr. Cole reentered the living room and walked over to the corpse. "Freya, my love, dinner's ready." Dr. Cole said before sweeping the corpse up into his arms and carrying it into the dinning room.

Dr. Cole sat the preserved corpse down into a chair and then took a seat across from it at the table. The mad doctor raised his glass. "To us...soon my love I will have a suitable heart to give you and bring you back to me." Dr. Cole declared as he clinked his glass against Freya's.

Dr. Cole began to eat his pig's heart and spoke to Freya throughout the meal and acted as if he were responding to Freya's words and laughing at Freya's jokes. "Freya, my dear, you have such a marvelous sense of humor!"

Once dinner was finished, Dr. Cole stood up and went over to the entertainment center and put on some dreary classical music. Dr. Cole walked over to Freya and offered her his hand. "Would you give me the honor of this dance, my beautiful lady?" Dr. Cole purred with a charming smile on his face. He swept the corpse up to its feet and put the corpse's feet on his so as he began to waltz across the dinning room floor the corpse moved with him.

"My dear, beautiful, kind Freya...how did your dance lessons go today? You love to dance so much don't you, my ballerina. You are as graceful as a swan...my love...my Freya..." Dr. Cole looked down at the masked face and frowned suddenly. "I'm so sorry, my love..." The doctor reached out to cup Freya's cheek with his hand. "I'm so sorry..." Dr. Cole's eyes began to glisten with unshed tears...

Blake crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at Dr. Cole. He waned to hate this perverted psychopath...but he couldn't help but feel for him in that moment of weakness. Obviously, whoever this 'Freya' person was Dr. Cole had loved her very much.

_She must have died somehow and Dr. Cole seems to blame himself for it. He obviously went mad with grief over Freya's death._ Blake shook his head at the thought.

But even though Blake felt for the doctor - the ghost had never loved someone quite like that. When Blake had been alive he had only been in love with himself. Dr. Cole was still an evil serial killer, a perverted psychopath, a kidnapper and a lunatic. Blake would not forgive him.

After the dance Dr. Cole scooped Freya up into his arms and headed for the bedroom. Blake felt nauseous even though he no longer had a stomach. Hopefully, Dr. Cole was just going to sleep with the corpse and not make love to it...Blake shuddered. He really didn't want to know and so the ghost left before he could hear anything of the sort passing through the walls.

On the fifth day, Dr. Cole entered the room with a tray and the customary cup of tea upon it. He opened the mini door and set the cup of tea inside Ro's cage. He gave her a thoughtful look. "You have very good instincts, Ro. You never drank the tea I dosed with sleeping medication. But what will you do if I just start to drug every cup of tea from now on? Will you allow yourself to starve to death? You're so stubborn, aren't you? There's sleeping medication in that cup, by the way." Dr. Cole stood up and chuckling left the room. It was only a matter of time before she broke.

Ro picked up the teacup with trembling hands and brought it to her lips.

"Idiot! Didn't you hear what he just said? There's sleeping medication in that!" Blake yelled.

Ro just shrugged and drank the tea anyways. She was so tired of being on guard the whole time, of trying to be tough. So tired. _I'm so tried of fighting him. I give up._ _I just can't take this anymore._

Blake tugged at his hair in exasperation. _Arghhh..._ Ro was so stubborn! _Gahhh!_

Half an hour passed and then Ro fell into a deep sleep.

An hour later, Dr. Cole entered the room with a shopping bag in hand. He peered into Ro's teacup and saw that she had drunk the tea. The medium was fast asleep, having been knocked unconscious by the sleeping medication as planned.

A twisted smile spread across Dr. Cole's thin lips. He reached into his pants' pocket, pulled out the key, and unlocked Ro's cage. He reached in and dragged Ro out of the cage and set her down gently on the floor.

Ro was still wearing the costume from the Christmas concert which consisted of the tight, black leather, lace-up corset and the long flowing black skirt that was covered in _Swarovsky_ crystals.

Dr. Cole brought his hands to the laces on Ro's corset and began to undo them with practiced movements.

Blake watched what Dr. Cole was doing in mounting horror. "What the fuck?! Don't touch her, you bastard!" Blake flew over and punched and kicked Dr. Cole, but Blake's kicks and punches just passed right through Dr. Cole's body.

Dr. Cole unlaced Ro's corset and slipped it over her head, leaving her in a black, lacy, strapless bra. Next, Dr. Cole began to pull Ro's skirt down and over her legs. This left Ro in nothing but her bra and matching panties.

"So beautiful...so pure...so innocent..." Dr. Cole murmured as he ran his hands over Ro's body lovingly. "So much like _her_."

Blake continued to punch and kick Dr. Cole fiercely, before he then raked his nails down Dr. Cole's back hatefully and filled with rage.

The doctor shuddered. A chill had gone down his back and the room temperature seemed to have dropped abnormally.

Dr. Cole shook his head, he was just imagining things. The heart surgeon picked up the shopping bag and took out a powder-blue dress. He began to dress Ro in it, and even put a pair of stockings and shoes on her.

Blake felt so frustrated and powerless as he watched Dr. Cole dress Ro up like a doll. _Fucking perverted control freak!_

"Fuck!" Blake roared as he began to punch and kick the furniture that was inside of the room angrily. Blake sent a flying sidekick to an umbrella strand that was filled with several flower-print umbrellas, and it fell over. The umbrellas rolled across the floor.

Blake didn't even notice that this phenomenon had occurred and continued to punch and kick at stuff out of rage and frustration and hate.

The ghost swiped his hand across the coffee table and an expensive, Japanese porcelain tea service with matching cups and saucers was sent crashing to the floor.

Dr. Cole stood up and looked around the room fearfully. First, the umbrella stand had been knocked over and then the tea set. "Who's there? I know you're there. Show yourself, coward!"

Blake froze and looked at the mess he had caused! Blake looked at his trembling hands in awe. He had actually managed to move an object! _Yes!_

Dr. Cole frowned and rubbed at his chilled arms. He had goosebumps and his back was burning. The doctor quickly put Ro back inside of the cage and fled the room. The poltergeists of the young women were cackling happily at Dr. Cole's terror.

Blake flew over to the cage and waited for Ro to wake up. While he waited he concentrated on making umbrellas and broken tea cups move across the floor and found that if he really concentrated that after a few tries he could do it!

A few hours later, Ro awoke. She sat up slowly and looked down at her new clothes. A sick, twisting feeling formed in her stomach. Dr. Cole had changed her clothes and what else had he done to her while she was unconscious? Had he...? The blood began to drain from Ro's face and her hands began to tremble.

Blake noticed Ro's horrified look, however. "He didn't touch you. At least not inappropriately, if that's what you were wondering, idiot." Blake told Ro in a gruff voice.

Ro let out a relieved breath and nodded.

"I'm sorry." Blake began to apologize and Ro gave him a surprised look. "I'm here at your side and yet I can't do anything to help you, even when Dr. Cole is doing these sick and twisted things to you."

"It's all right. It's not your fault." Ro was quick to reply.

Blake sighed heavily and ran a hand back through his platinum blonde hair out of frustration. Ro's words didn't make him feel any better. If anything they made him feel worse. This _was_ his fault. If it hadn't been for Blake recruiting Ro to help him with his revenge this never would have happened. Blake looked at Ro grimly, thinking about what he was about to do. But it had to be done. "Ro...you can't stay here like this. I need to tell someone that you're here..."

Ro gave Blake a curious look. "Who?"

Blake scratched the back of his neck. "I was thinking I would try and communicate with Carrie. She's the only one open-minded enough to believe a ghost was trying to communicate with her. Carrie is our best bet. Which is why I have to go...and leave you alone here."

Ro was terrified by the prospect of being left alone, but understood that Blake was doing everything in his power to help her. Ro clenched her hands to keep them from shaking and looked Blake directly in his lavender colored eyes. She nodded. "I believe that you will save me."

"Damn straight..." Blake offered Ro a dashing smile. "I won't let that sicko continue to treat you like his personal Barbie doll! I'll be back with help and we'll get you out of there, Ro. I promise you - I'll be back."

Ro nodded. "And I'll be waiting."

Blake flew out of the room, down the hall, down the sweeping staircase, and out the front door without looking back because if he hesitated even for a second he knew he wouldn't be able to leave Ro's side. _Carrie._ He needed to go to Carrie's house! Blake flew through the sky and headed for the Wicca witch's house. He used his new ghost senses to trace Carrie's unique soul signature in order to pinpoint her location.

This was the first time Blake was truly acting like a ghost...flying through the sky, over mansions, cars and treetops, and swerving around palm trees. Before now, Blake had liked to pretend he was still alive and had 'walked' next to Ro, and 'sat' next to her.

But now he was glad for his ability to just fly through the sky. Blake flew to Carrie's house - a moderately sized dwelling for the witch's huge family - in record time. The house harbored Carrie's mother and father, who were never home, and the rest of her family. Carrie had two younger siblings Lily and Sammy, a younger sister named Rosemary and a baby brother named Draven. Blake flew into the house and began to search each room in turn, looking for Carrie's room.

Blake flew into one room immediately realizing that this had to be Carrie's room. The room had a black light on and there were black light posters on the walls with scary demonic and angelic images. There was a poster of a crow playing guitar and the words 'Nothing Matters, tour 2003'. The walls had been painted dark purple. Candles were the only other source of light in the room and they were everywhere. Blake noticed one skull-shaped candleholder with a red candle stuck into the top so that it was dripping red wax all over the skull and looking like droplets of blood.

Also decorating Carrie's Goth room was a red and black lava lamp, a beaded curtain, a cross hanging on the wall, a black blow-up coach, two black, beanbag chairs, and a pillow shaped like a cat's head but looking like a cat's skull. But the strangest and most out of place thing that was there had to be the poster of Vincent Sangre that was on Carrie's wall! Blake's jaw dropped and he gaped at the poster of Vincent behind his set of drums and his name written in swirly letters on the poster.

"That damned Goth girl...she said she wasn't our fan." Blake scoffed. "The liar...I need to figure out a way to keep those two apart." Blake shook his head. "Now's not the time to worry about that."

Carrie was lying back on her bed on top of her dark purple sheets. The radio was on and playing _Erotic Corpses_ ' new anti-war song _Zombie World_ featuring Ro's singing voice. "Kill, Kill, Kill! Everyone's getting fucking killed! Kill, Kill, Kill! Everyone's turning into zombies!"

Carrie moved her head up and down to the beat, and tears slowly filled her eyes. "Ro...where are you? Did Blake's murderer kill you?" She said softly. Carrie flipped through her Book of Shadows absentmindedly but she wasn't really looking at anything on the pages.

Blake flew over and hovered directly in front of Carrie. "Carrie! It's me, Blake! I know where Ro is!"

Carrie just stared straight through Blake as if he weren't there. Carrie rubbed at her arms - it was suddenly chilly in her room.

"Dammit!" Blake shouted out of frustration. He looked around Carrie's room. "I'll make you pay attention to me, bitch!" Blake flew over to Carrie's bookshelf and began to knock books off the shelf with a sweep of his hand.

Carrie sat up in bed, wide-eyed and watched as books were suddenly flying off her shelf. "What the?" Blake didn't stop there, however, and began to push her computer chair across the floor. Then Blake snuffed out a candle.

"Blake?" Carrie called out into her room.

Blake looked over at Carrie wide-eyed. "Yes! It's me! Carrie! Shit!" He made a candleholder vibrate in response.

"Holy shit...you really are here..." Carrie breathed. "Do you know where Ro is? Is she dead too?"

Blake sat down in the chair and began to rock it back and forth...

Carrie frowned and bit her lip. "If only I could hear your voice...it looks like you can move things now...ah! That's it!" Carrie leapt off the bed and ran to her closet. She flung the doors open and began to rummage around the bottom of her closet through her board games until she pulled out her homemade Ouija Board.

The flat, wooden board was fifteen by twenty inches, and had the letters of the alphabet on it. The first line had the letters A through M, the second line had the letters N through Z, and the last line had the numbers one through nine and the number zero. At the very top of the board on the left side was the image of a sun with the word ' _yes_ ' in its center. On the upper right corner of the board was the image of a moon and the word ' _no_ ' written inside of it. At the bottom of the board the word 'goodbye' was written. The board came with a 'planchette' \- a wooden device that looked like an upside down heart with a cutout circle in the middle of it.

Carrie carried the Ouija Board and the planchette to the middle of her room and set the board down on the floor. She placed the planchette on the board and sat down cross-legged in front of the board. The witch reached out and placed her fingertips onto the planchette. "Okay, Blake, you can communicate with me using this Ouija Board. You just move the planchette and put it over the letters to spell out words. Understand?"

Blake floated above the board and looked at it curiously. It looked pretty self-explanatory - the word ' _yes_ ' inside of the sun, the word ' _no_ ' inside of the moon, the letters of the alphabet to spell out words and phrases, the numbers, and the word 'goodbye' at the bottom of the board. This thing was pretty damned convenient! Blake furrowed his brow and concentrated on moving the planchette towards the word ' _yes_ '.

Carrie gasped as the planchette began to move.

"Blake..." The Goth witch breathed. "Do you know where Ro is?"

Blake moved the planchette away from the word 'yes' and then back again.

"Is Ro alive?"

Blake moved the planchette away from the word ' _yes_ ' and back again.

Carrie let out a breath of relief. "Where is she?"

Blake moved the planchette quickly over the letters: D, R, C, O, L, and E.

"D...R...C...O...L...E..." Carrie murmured. "Dr. Cole?! That bastard is messing with Ro again? What the hell...did he kidnap her?"

Blake used the board to answer ' _yes_ '.

"Fuck...where is she? At his house?"

Blake again answered in the affirmative.

"Do you know the address?"

Blake moved the planchette over to the word ' _no_ '.

"Useless ghost! You should have looked at the address before you left Ro there! Idiot! Well, is there anyone you know who would know where Dr. Cole lives?"

Blake used the board to spell out the following word: 'Vincent'.

"V...I...N...C...E...N...T." Carrie spelled out the name and sucked in a breath. Carrie took out her cell phone and hesitated upon dialing his number. She was still pretty angry with him for what had happened back at Sadie and Devon's Christmas party. First, Vincent had denied having anything to do with her and then had been flirting with his so-called brides...and after that he had dragged her out on the balcony to explain that he hadn't meant any of it. She didn't know what to think.

"Please Carrie, you have to help Ro. That perverted bastard Dr. Cole has her in a cage!" Blake shouted at the top of his lungs at the Goth girl.

And the strangest thing happened, the radio went staticky and a strange sounding voice filled Carrie's room:

" _Please Carrie...help Ro...pervert...cage..._ "

"Blake?!" Carrie jumped and looked at the radio, eyes wide. Carrie's expression hardened and she dialed Vincent's number, which he had given her at the Christmas party, and which she had vowed to never use.

Vincent immediately picked up. " _Hello my dear, how are you holding up, this horrible morning?_ "

"Vincent! I...would you think I was crazy if I told you that I know where Ro is?"

" _No, where do you thinks she is?_ "

"Dr. Cole has her. Someone told me that you might know where he lives..."

" _I do...Dr. Cole is actually my doctor. Wait, so you're saying Dr. Cole has kidnapped Ro? Impossible. Whatever for?_ "

"I think..." Carrie frowned. "Hang on a second." Carrie set her cell phone on the floor and knelt by the Ouija Board putting her fingers back onto the planchette. "Why did Dr. Cole kidnap Ro? Some kind of blackmail?"

Blake used the board to spell out the following phrase ' _lover'_.

"L...O...V...E...R. Lover? What? You have got to be kidding me! That fucking pervert. Poor Ro she's already so traumatized..." Carrie exclaimed and picked the cell phone back up. "Um, Vincent...er..."

" _I heard you yell something about a 'lover'? That bad, huh? Who's telling you all this?_ "

"Ah...um..."

" _Anonymous tip, huh? I get it. I'll call Devon and Joey and we'll come pick you up. Just give me your address. Then we'll go rescue Ro together."_

Carrie let out a breath of relief. "Thank you." She thanked Vincent before giving the drummer her home address.

" _We'll be right there."_ Vincent assured before ending the call.

Carrie stood up and looked around the room. "Blake...we're going to go to Dr. Cole's house. You should probably get back to Ro since you left her there all alone."

Blake nodded and flew out of Carrie's window and back to Dr. Cole's mansion.

Meanwhile, Carrie paced back and forth in her room until thirty minutes later a car honked outside of her house. Carrie ran to her window and looked down.

A burgundy red Phantom Rolls Royce was parked in front of her house. Vincent got out of the driver's side and looked up. He spotted Carrie in her bedroom window and as he lowered his sunglasses slightly their eyes met.

"I'll be right down!" Carrie called out before running out of her bedroom, down the hall, down the stairs and through the living room where all of Carrie's brothers and sisters were watching TV.

"Hey Carrie, where are you going?" asked her little brother, Sammy, as he rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"To save a friend." Carrie replied. She got her long leather jacket out of the closet and exited her house. She ran towards Vincent. "You're here." She greeted breathlessly.

"Of course, my lady," Vincent said smoothly as he opened the passenger side door for her to get into the car. Carrie quickly got into the car and looked behind her to see that Devon and Joey were seated together in the back seat. Joey had a baseball bat in one hand and was hitting the palm of his other hand with it. Devon had brass knuckles on his fingers and was cracking his knuckles one by one. From the grim looks on their faces, Carrie knew that these guys meant business.

"Hey guys...thanks for doing this...poor Ro, she must be terrified." Carrie said. _I just can't believe that these guys are murder suspects...I better not think about that right now..._

Devon's expression was chill. "I don't entirely believe you, Carrie. We all know Dr. Cole and his immaculate reputation. But...Vincent says you're telling the truth, so I'm betting on him."

"And if Dr. Cole really does have Ro we're going to kick his ass into next week!" Joey blurted out fiercely.

Carrie nodded. "Thank you..."

Vincent got back into the driver's seat and put his hands on the wheel. "Off we go...to rescue a damsel in distress. How splendid." He started the car and drove off down the street, heading for Dr. Cole's mansion as fast as Devon would let him go. He knew the way since he'd been there a couple of times before.

About forty minutes later, Vincent was pulling up to the front gate. He rolled his window down so he could ring the doorbell and use the intercom.

"Everyone get down...he probably has cameras set up around here somewhere." Vincent reached his hand out and rang the doorbell.

" _Who is it?_ " Came Dr. Cole's silky voice over the intercom.

Vincent pressed on the intercom button so that he could communicate with Dr. Cole. "It's Vincent, Dr. Cole."

" _Now is really not a good time, Vincent. I'm...entertaining guests._ "

"Dr. Cole...I really need to speak with you. It's urgent...it's about my..." Vincent shot a wary look towards his friends. "Condition."

Everyone in the car gave Vincent curious looks. _Condition?_ They were all wondering.

"I'm in a lot of pain, doctor..." Vincent let out a pained groan for full effect.

Vincent heard Dr. Cole let out a sigh. " _Very well, but make it fast._ " Dr. Cole must have pressed the unlocking button because the front gate opened before them and Vincent was able to drive inside Dr. Cole's estate and make his way up the graveled driveway that led to the mansion.

"What 'condition' were you just referring to Vincent?" Devon drawled off-handedly.

Vincent gulped and gripped the steering wheel tighter. "My asthma..."

"Asthma?" Joey frowned and scratched his head. "I didn't know you had asthma."

_I didn't know Vincent had asthma either._ Carrie thought to herself before the sight of the impressive Spanish-style mansion that was coming into view distracted her. "Whoa. He's loaded...makes me hate him even more..."

Vincent pulled his Rolls Royce right in front of the mansion's front door and behind Dr. Cole's parked Benz. The group began to get out of the car and almost immediately the sound of barking and growling could be heard. Five Dobermans turned the corner around the mansion and began to head towards the group.

"Holy crap! Attack dogs!" Joey said as he readied his bat in front of him.

Devon got into a fighting stance, his fists raised before him.

Vincent moved to stand protectively in front of Carrie.

The door to the mansion opened and Dr. Cole stepped outside. He raised a dog whistle to his lips but didn't blow it. "I thought you were alone, Vincent. Would you mind telling me why you're really here? Or should I let my dogs rip the truth out of you?"

"Shit..." Joey swore nervously with a guilty look on his face.

The dogs were almost upon them when Dr. Cole blew the whistle and the dogs halted in a circle around Vincent, Carrie, Devon and Joey.

"I don't like uninvited guests. Nor surprise visits. I do not find this amusing in the least, Vincent." Dr. Cole drawled, his dark blue eyes glinting angrily.

"Do forgive me, Dr. Cole, but we have reason to believe that a friend of ours is here - Ro Ripper." Vincent quickly explained.

The doctor's lips thinned into a straight line. "And how did you come to suspect that I have the missing girl?"

"We never said she was 'missing'." Carrie walked over to stand next to Vincent and glared at Dr. Cole. "A very reliable anonymous tip. We know you have her, Dr. Cole, so hand her over!"

Dr. Cole frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't seen...Ro Ripper. Now, I think you all should leave before I call the authorities and have you all arrested for trespassing."

"No way! Let us search your mansion and then we'll go!" Carrie shot back in a fiery manner, her hands on her hips.

"If you enter my mansion without my permission I will considerate it breaking and entering and have my dogs here tear you to pieces. Don't doubt that they can and will do it and that I will allow it." Dr. Cole threatened in a low, deadly voice.

"Fucking maggot..." Carrie moved towards Dr. Cole but a Doberman immediately moved to stand in front of Dr. Cole protectively and barked and snapped its maw at Carrie viciously as drool dripped out of the dog's maw.

"Some BACK UP would be really nice right about now!" Carrie complained loudly.

Everyone looked at Carrie like she was crazy. No one saw Blake fly out of the front door - no one except for the Dobermans who immediately directed their attention towards the rockstar ghost.

Blake grinned maliciously at the dogs. "Hello again you smelly, flea-bitten mutts. Let's play!" Blake began chasing, kicking, and punching the dogs that immediately began to go berserk - snapping at thin air. And then all five dogs inexplicably took off running in one direction and around the corner of the mansion towards the mansion's rear garden.

Carrie was looking quite pleased with herself. "Where are your precious dogs now, Dr. Cole?"

Devon stepped forward directly in front of Dr. Cole. "Out of the way, Dr. Cole. We're going to search your mansion."

Dr. Cole's eyes flashed and he scowled at Devon Decayn. He _hated_ rockstars. "No-"

"Have it your way then." Devon shrugged before bringing his fist up and letting it fly into the side of Dr. Cole's face - brass knuckles biting into the doctor's sensitive flesh.

POW! Dr. Cole staggered backwards and fell to the marble floor of the foyer.

"Now!" Carrie said as she ran into the mansion, followed close behind by Vincent, Joey and Devon. "It'd be great if we knew where she was!" Carrie called out to the mansion.

Immediately, a vase was knocked over from its alcove to their left and then a vase was knocked over at the top of the left hand staircase that swept upwards towards the second floor.

"She's upstairs!" Carrie took off running up the winding staircase, which took them to the second floor. Carrie looked left and right when a tapestry down the hall on her left was suddenly ripped off the wall. "This way!" Carrie took off down the hall in that direction with Devon, Vincent, Joey following the witch close behind and giving her curious looks.

They were also witnessing the angry poltergeist's signs for what direction they should be heading in but made no comment. They were with a Wicca _witch_ after all.

Carrie heard a crash from inside one of the rooms and halted before it. She reached out and tried the knob only to find it locked. "Shit...it's locked."

"Move aside." Devon said as he strode forward and kicked the door in, busting its hinges.

Vincent, Carrie, Devon and Joey all rushed inside of the brightly lit parlor room to see Ro inside of a cage that was sitting on the very center of the floor. But the group's attention was soon drawn elsewhere.

"What's that awful smell?" Joey brought a hand up in front of his mouth and gagged slightly.

"Formaldehyde." Devon stated darkly.

As the group searched the room for the source of the awful stench they noticed the two French settees situated around a low coffee table, another round table with several armchairs around it and a piano. Seated upon the furniture were several young women dressed in flower print dresses that had long black hair and that were wearing feathered masks on their faces.

"We're not alone." Vincent stated grimly.

But the group couldn't fail but note how these young women weren't moving or breathing. They also noted the strange scars on the women's chests and their slightly blue-tinged skin. A feeling of dread came over everyone as they began to realize what was going on...

"Those women...aren't moving." Joey said in a trembling voice.

"That's because they're dead." Devon said as he shook his head in disgust. "The formaldehyde was used to preserve those corpses over there."

"Corpses?!" Joey exclaimed in horror. "I thought they were dolls." The blood drained from Joey's face and he looked faint.

"They're so well preserved...they really do look like dolls." Carrie agreed. "They must be former nurses of Dr. Cole's."

Vincent frowned at Carrie's comment. "Former nurses?" Vincent shook his head not wanting to believe it. The case of the mysteriously disappearing nurses from Good Samaritan Hospital...had it just been solved? Had Dr. Cole been behind it? He was the one who had spirited the girls away, killed them, ripped their hearts out and even decided to preserve their bodies with formaldehyde?! Had Dr. Cole - his doctor - really killed all those women? "I can't believe it...it's not possible."

The stench of death filled the room. The stench of rotting flesh and formaldehyde.

"This is like the set up for a very bad horror movie," Joey shuddered.

"I think I watched that one with Sadie," Devon deadpanned. "Everyone died."

"Thanks for sharing that tidbit." Vincent said.

"Your welcome, bro." Devon nodded.

"Ro!" Carrie and Joey both burst out as soon as they caught sight of Ro sitting in that cage on her knees, so calmly, and looking like a doll. Had she already been killed and preserved? "We're too late." They rushed towards the cage.

Vincent and Devon soon followed. Devon keeping an eye on everyone's back.

Ro turned her head slowly to see her friends and tears immediately filled her ice-blue eyes. "Carrie...Joey...Devon...Vincent...how?" Ro looked at Carrie with an intense gaze. "He was able to reach you?" Ro asked in a soft voice so that the others wouldn't overhear.

Carrie nodded, tears in her eyes.

Joey took a step back and eyed the lock on the cage. "Stand back Ro - I'll open the door." Joey raised his bat as if he'd take a swing at the cage door.

However, Devon reached out and grabbed Joey's arm, stopping him. "Idiot...that won't open it."

Joey spun around to glare at Devon defiantly. "But we can't just leave her in there! She's alive!"

"Ahem." The sound of someone clearing his voice was heard from the doorway. Everyone turned to see that Dr. Cole was standing nonchalantly in the doorway with a darkening bruise on his cheek.

"I believe you'll need a key to open that cage." Dr. Cole held up the key.

Joey started towards Dr. Cole threateningly. "Give it here!"

"Gladly," Dr. Cole said as he threw Joey the key.

Joey caught it and began to unlock the cage door.

Devon began to approach Dr. Cole, a dangerous aura flaring up around him. "I thought you said you'd never seen Ro Ripper."

"Indeed, that girl is not Ro Ripper...her real name is Rosalie Galloway. Did you know she was deceiving you? She's a nurse...a nurse whom I fired. I can assure you she's no singer. Her father, Edgar Galloway, is dying of cancer. He's a patient at Good Samaritan Hospital. Rosalie's dream is to become a nurse, not a singer!" Dr. Cole revealed with a pleased smile on his face.

Devon continued to approach Dr. Cole, fires blazing in his dark eyes. "So what? You lied about having her prisoner here, you sick fuck. How can we really believe anything you're saying?"

Dr. Cole shrugged. "I didn't harm her. And if you don't believe me ask her yourself. I just...wanted to break her into finally giving in to me. I want to make her heart mine. No woman has ever refused me before. She...intrigues me. What also intrigues me is how you all found out that I was keeping her here..." Dr. Cole stroked his chin and looked everyone in the eye. "I told no one...and I doubt the one who originally helped me to get my hands on Ro would have 'ratted me out'."

Dr. Cole began to pace across the room. "And the strangest things have been occurring in my mansion as of late...objects moving on their own...as if a ghost or angry poltergeist was moving them. Did you all knock over those vases I saw broken in my hallway or was it something - _someone_ else?"

"Talk about having a guilty conscience." Joey muttered grimly as he looked at the corpses of the dead women. "Thinking the girls you killed came back to haunt you maybe?"

Dr. Cole's attention suddenly shifted to Carrie and he noticed the symbol of Lilith hanging from a chain on Carrie's neck. "Ah, the symbol of The Goddess...you're a Wicca witch aren't you?"

"I am." Carrie crossed her arms over her chest protectively.

"I see...how interesting. If the one I believe is responsible for this is...he will pay." Dr. Cole muttered darkly to himself.

Devon cracked his neck from side to side and his knuckles next. "I think...the one who is going to pay today is you, Dr. Cole." Devon declared before punching Dr. Cole hard across the face again. The doctor staggered backwards and Devon punched Dr. Cole in the gut next.

Dr. Cole gasped and bent over clutching his stomach. "W-Wait! I wouldn't do this if I were you!" Devon grabbed Dr. Cole's head and slammed it into his knee.

BAM! Dr. Cole staggered backwards once more and fell backwards to the floor, coughing.

But Devon wasn't finished with him yet and kicked Dr. Cole in the stomach and began to kick the heart surgeon repeatedly with his steel-toed boots until a sickening crack rang through the air.

Blake was nodding approvingly at Devon's actions. "Don't hold back, bro."

Joey gave Ro his hand and pulled her out of the cage.

Blake watched as Joey helped Ro out of the cage - so easily. He couldn't help the jealousy he felt that Joey was able to do such a simple thing and he could not. Jealousy. Envy. Not that Blake would ever admit it to himself. He was just happy that Ro was alright. She had been saved. No thanks to him.

A single black tear trailed down Blake's face and he brushed it away absentmindedly with his thumb. He looked down and saw the black residue on his hand. A scowl formed on his handsome face and his expression darkened. _Time is running out._

"Stop...stop it." Ro began as she stalked past Joey and towards Dr. Cole and Devon. "It's enough. As he said before he did not harm me."

"Ro!" Joey looked scandalized. "That sick fuck kept you locked in a cage for almost four days! We thought..." Joey bit his lip and looked at the preserved corpses sitting around and having a tea party. "And those poor girls..."

Devon kicked Dr. Cole one last time and stalked out of the room. "Murdering scumbag."

"He'll pay...he'll pay for this...you _will_ regret treating me like this..." Dr. Cole began to laugh as blood dribbled down his chin.

Ro shot Blake a worried look. Who was the 'he' that Dr. Cole was talking about...?

"Come on, Ro, don't listen to him. He's obviously insane. Let's get out of here." Joey took Ro's hand and began to lead her out of the room.

Blake's heart clenched strangely in his chest at the sight of Ro and Joey walking out of the room hand in hand. He grit his teeth angrily but...this was the whole point. Ro was supposed to be getting close to his friends in order to investigate them. Ro was his gopher and nothing more. Right?

Vincent was the last out of the room. "Why Dr. Cole? Why? I respected you...I thought you were an honorable man?"

"There's a lot that you don't know about me, Vincent. I guess you'll be finding yourself another doctor but...it's already too late..." Dr. Cole laughed hollowly.

Vincent felt his gut clench at Dr. Cole's cryptic words and a scowl formed on his handsome face. "Goodbye Dr. Cole. And good riddance."

What Vincent and Dr. Cole didn't know was that Blake was still in the room. He gave Vincent a suspicious look. "Just what have you been hiding, Vincent. I'll have Ro find out."

### Chapter 12: Ever Fallen in Love

Carrie was surprised and touched that Vincent Sangre - the drummer of _Erotic Corpses_ and someone she was a secret fan of - had trusted her enough to believe her when she had told him that Ro was in trouble and that Dr. Cole - someone whom Vincent had previously trusted - had Ro held captive!

No questions asked, Vincent had simply trusted and believed in Carrie and had even helped her to save her best friend, Ro. Ro was a sweet, kind girl and one of the first people not to judge Carrie by her appearance or shun her because of it. She truly valued Ro's friendship.

The Wicca witch was so happy that Ro was safe having been reunited with Blake and the band once more. She felt like she couldn't put a 'thank you' into words for Vincent, but she still wanted to thank him. She really owed him one. But Carrie didn't know how to express herself - except through fashion.

That's why Carrie decided that she would design a suit for Vincent Sangre as a 'thank you' gift. A suit that really complimented him or that at least expressed how she saw and felt about him.

Carrie spent hours and hours just sketching possible designs for Vincent's suit. After she decided upon one of her best sketches - that of a Victorian-style suit - she went to the material store on her bike. Once she arrived there she picked out the materials she needed from rolls and rolls of different gorgeous materials that were stacked in shelves. She ended up selecting a dark purple material that she would use for the jacket, some purple and silver silk for the vest, white lace for the cravat, a black silk material to use for the pants and silver buttons to use on the jacket.

After Carrie finished making her purchases, she brought the materials back to Blake's apartment, which had somehow become her temporary sewing studio. The witch began to cut the material according to the patterns she created, and put her sewing machine to good use. It took Carrie several hours to finish the suit and when she was done she folded it gingerly and put it inside of a suit box.

Carrie wiped some sweat from her brow with her hand and let out a satisfied sigh. That was a job well done. She put the box into her backpack before slipping the straps over her shoulders. She left Blake's apartment and made her way over to her parked KTM. That day she was wearing some tight leather pants, a long-sleeved, purple shirt that had long, belled sleeves and a pair of lace-up knee boots. The shirt was low cut, and had a black cross on it.

Her pentagram necklace swung around her neck as she mounted her bike, put her helmet on, and began to ride off in the direction of Wraythe Records. According to Ro who Carrie had placed a quick phone call to the band was at the studio practicing and Carrie intended to intercept Vincent there.

Thirty minutes later, Carrie arrived at the Wraythe Records majestic tower-like building and parked her bike out front. She dismounted and confidently made her way into the building. She flashed her ID badge at the security guards that let her pass as she made her way to the elevators. She took the elevator up to the tenth floor and once the doors opened she made her way to the studio. Carrie didn't bother to knock as she opened the door to the studio and made her way quietly inside.

There before her was _Erotic Corpses_. The band was practicing and the sight and sound of their playing stole her breath away just as it always did.

Her eyes were inevitably drawn to Vincent Sangre...his long, silky red hair swishing up and down as he headbanged and attacked the drums and cymbals with a fiery passion.

Devon Decayn was playing his electric guitar, jamming hard, his fingers sliding up and down the fret board swiftly, and looking hot as his skin glistened with sweat.

Joey Bones was grinning like an idiot and having a little too much fun as he played his bass guitar. He was wearing a black t-shirt that had the word 'HI' on it made out of bones.

Then there was Ro Ripper...singing her heart out with her glowing lavender-colored eyes. Blake had obviously possessed Ro and he was rocking hard as he belted out punk rock lyrics in a fierce manner.

Reclining on the nearby leopard print couch was Sadie Skellington. She was watching Devon with blue eyes that shone with lust, desire, and possessiveness. Her look seemed to be saying 'that boy is mine, all mine'. Carrie rolled her eyes at the horny female rockstar.

Carrie flinched when she noticed that Vincent's so-called 'brides' were also in the studio off to one side in a circle and whispering to themselves. Carrie recognized them from the Christmas party. Candra - the blonde one - was wearing a cute black and white Victorian-style dress that had lots of frills and lace with a pair of black platform shoes. Candra was currently sucking on a lollipop in an obscene manner.

Scarlett - who Carrie secretly liked to think of as 'the sluty one' - was wearing a tight, red corset, and a pair of black leather pants. Her long, wavy red hair was loose around her shoulders and her green eyes shimmered with obvious desire for Vincent as she watched the drummer spinning his drumsticks.

Annabel - the leader of the Vincent Sangre fan club - was wearing a black, medieval-style dress that was high-cut. Annabel seemed more serious and sophisticated than the other two but that didn't mean that Carrie trusted her or anything.

Carrie took an unconscious step back when she spotted Vincent's possessive fan girls. They gave her a bad feeling and made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She sensed something 'dark' about them and it made her finger her pentagram necklace in a defensive manner as if her necklace could ward off their evil intent.

Carrie steeled herself, however, took a deep breath and continued her way into the studio. She ignored the group of three fan girls and made her way to the couch instead. Sadie was the lesser of two evils in this instance. Even as she ignored the brides though Carrie could sense that their eyes were upon her as she made her way over to the couch. It was creepy.

Carrie took her backpack off and set it on the couch first. "Hey Sadie. What's happening?" She greeted casually and in a low voice before she sat down. Carrie didn't want to disrupt the band's practice and so had made sure to keep her voice extremely low.

"Hey, witch," Sadie answered back in an equally low voice. Sadie eyed Carrie's backpack curiously and raised an eyebrow at it since she could see the box poking out the top. "Some more clothes for the band?"

Carrie shrugged. "Something like that."

Carrie, Sadie, and the brides continued to watch the _Erotic Corpses_ practice until they were winding down to the end of their final song. Carrie looked at the brides and wondered if she should find another opportunity to give Vincent his 'thank you' present. But then she shook her head stubbornly. No, she wasn't afraid of them and could care less about what those girls thought. She was Carrie Ashmore! _And I have nothing to hide!_ Carrie thought to herself adamantly.

As soon as the song was finished Blake left Ro's body. Ro's ice-blue eyes lit up when she caught sight of Carrie. "Hey Carrie," she greeted softly as she approached the Goth witch.

Carrie stood up and awaited Ro's approach while Joey followed after the medium like a loyal puppy. The sight made Carrie's black painted lips twitch into an amused smile.

Devon made his way over to Sadie, who stood up, grabbed Devon's head with both her hands and pulled him in for a sizzling kiss. After a few minutes of making out she pulled back from Devon and licked her lips. "Your playing made me wet." She purred in a husky voice.

Devon smirked at the sexy female rockstar. "That was the idea, babe."

Ro looked at Devon and Sadie and bit her lower lip. She debated if she should tell Devon about what happened between her and Sadie that night of the party. She remembered Sadie taking her outside of Devon's apartment building to talk about Devon's drinking problem and then she had suddenly felt woozy. After that, when she had woken up it had been to find herself locked inside of a cage somewhere inside of Dr. Cole's mansion. Sadie had given her over to Dr. Cole, she was sure of it. Blake had also confirmed this.

_But why?_ Ro wondered to herself morosely.

Why had Sadie done such a cruel thing to her? Did she hate Ro that much? Ro had been under the impression that Sadie had wanted to be her friend. Why did Sadie dislike her? Ro intended to find out.

Sadie noticed Ro watching her and Devon, and shot a glare the medium's way.

Vincent Sangre dabbed at the sweat on his brow with a lacy, silk handkerchief before going over to greet his brides. He had spotted Carrie out of the corner of his eye but chose to ignore her. "Greetings, my lovelies."

"Oh Vincent...we've missed you." Scarlett purred as she wrapped her arms around Vincent's arm and pressed her body up against his side.

"Where have you been hiding lately?" Candra asked as she latched onto Vincent's other arm and looked up at the drummer with a cute pout on her face. "Have you been avoiding us? You don't like us anymore?" Her tone of voice was slightly petulant.

Vincent gave Candra a mock-horrified look. "Of course I haven't been avoiding you, my treasures. I've just been...busy lately."

"I hope that's the case." Annabel said in a serious tone as she gave Vincent a concerned look. "If we've done something to displease you...please let us know."

Vincent shook his head. "No, of course not. You ladies know how much you mean to me."

Annabel nodded and smiled knowingly at Vincent. "Indeed. You can't live without us...we are your faithful, loyal brides."

Carrie watched the brides clinging to Vincent and had a sinking feeling in her gut. Those girls were so beautiful and obviously head-over-heels in love for Vincent. Why would Vincent like someone like her - loud, outspoken, rude, difficult? When he could have _them?_ Carrie sighed. She didn't care who Vincent liked - it was none of her concern. She fished the gift box out of her backpack and approached Vincent and his brides anyways. "Ahem." Carrie cleared her throat loudly to get Vincent's attention.

Vincent turned to regard Carrie and he raised an eyebrow at her. "Hello Carrie, may I assist you with something?" His voice was cold.

"Vincent...I need to talk to you." Carrie explained, in a serious tone.

Vincent looked at his brides and hesitated.

"It will only take a moment." Carrie insisted giving Vincent an urgent look.

Vincent nodded and gave his brides an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, ladies, if you'll excuse me for a moment." Vincent left the brides and took Carrie's arm to lead her aside. "What is it?" Vincent spoke in a low concerned voice.

Carrie took a deep breath and held the gift box out to Vincent. "I made something for you..."

Beneath his round, yellow sunglasses, Vincent's red eyes widened in surprise. "For me?" He took the box.

Carrie nodded. "I wanted to thank you for trusting me about Ro."

"Carrie..." Words eluded the drummer even though he was definitely touched by the gesture.

Carrie noticed that the brides were watching her closely. "That's it. If you don't like it you can throw it away." The witch declared loudly with a wave of her hand.

Vincent looked up at Carrie and smiled fondly. He lowered his sunglasses so that Carrie could see the warm expression that was in his ruby-red eyes. "I will treasure it always...until the day I die." He said in a soft, low voice that only she could hear.

"Pfft." Carrie snorted, putting a hand on her jutted hip in a sassy pose. "You haven't even seen it yet, idiot."

"Anything you make is a work of art. Truly. You are an extremely talented and beautiful woman, Carrie. And I-" Vincent was saying as he reached his hand out towards Carrie's violet-colored hair as if in awe. However-

Carrie felt the menacing looks upon her and turned to see that the brides were glaring daggers her way. The Wicca witch pulled back and avoided Vincent's touch. "Well, I'm outta here. I have shit to do. See you." Carrie said as she turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.

Vincent didn't realize that his hand was still outstretched as if still reaching for Carrie for several minutes even after she had gone. His brides did notice, however, and Scarlett and Candra immediately looked displeased.

"That little witch." Scarlett seethed as she chewed angrily on one of her long, red fingernails.

Candra was looking at Vincent with a pout. "What does he see in her? She's not even that pretty."

"Ladies. Calm yourselves." Annabel chided them. "Remember that as Vincent's brides we wish for nothing but Vincent's happiness...even if that happiness lies with someone else."

"Hmph." Scarlett let out a snort. _We'll see about that..._

***

Ro had to go to the bathroom and so left the studio. She didn't know it but Sadie left Devon and decided to follow her. Blake noticed this of course and so followed Sadie. When Ro finished using the toilet and came out of her stall it was to see Sadie applying some black lipstick while casually standing in front of one of the sinks. Floating next to Sadie was Blake with his arms crossed over his chest and a suspicious look on his face.

Ro looked at Blake wondering what the ghost was up to, and then turned her gaze to Sadie. Ro had specifically told Blake to never ever follow her into the girl's bathroom...but he had anyways. Ro wanted to give Blake a piece of her mind but Sadie was right there. Ro was opening and closing her mouth for a moment like a fish. The medium sighed instead and made her way over towards the sinks so that she could wash her hands. "Hi Sadie." Ro said as she turned the water on.

Sadie looked over at Ro and smiled. "Hi...we need to talk, Ro." Sadie declared as she capped her lipstick and replaced it inside of her hot pink makeup bag. Sadie walked over to the bathroom door, turned the lock, and turned around to put her back to the door. She had essentially trapped Ro inside of the bathroom.

_Shit! What is that crazy bitch up to now?!_ Blake thought as he flew in front of Ro protectively, placing himself between Sadie and Ro.

Sadie grinned evilly, approached Ro, and passed right through Blake's body. This caused a frustrated and angry look to form on Blake's face. That bitch could just pass right through him...as if he weren't even there. _Dammit!_

Sadie shivered as a chill washed over her. She quickly shrugged it off though and stood in front of Ro with her arms crossed over her perky chest. "Ro...I want you to tell me what you remember about last night?"

Ro blinked and looked at Sadie with a bland look on her face. "If you're asking about whether or not I know that you handed me over to Dr. Cole...I know all about it." The medium admitted in her dull tone.

"Shit." Sadie swore and bit her lip. She fished a cigarette out of her makeup bag and lit it up. She took a long drag from her cigarette to calm her nerves. "Are you going to tell Devon?"

"Hell yea, you conniving bitch!" Blake shouted and shook his fist at the female rockstar.

"No." Ro said surprising both Sadie and Blake. "I don't plan on telling Devon as long as your feelings for Devon are sincere. Sadie, how do you really feel about Devon?" Ro asked, giving Sadie a piercing look.

The surprise was clear on Sadie's face. "How dare you ask me that, you bitch..."

Ro reached into her pants' pocket and pulled out a photograph, which she handed to Sadie. Sadie snatched the picture out of Ro's hand and glared down at it until her eyes widened by what she saw.

It was a picture of her and Blake White. Blake was giving her this amorous look while her head was turned away in the other direction, and so she hadn't noticed it.

"Where did you get this?" Sadie breathed as she looked down at the photo. She removed her cigarette from her lips and her hand was trembling.

"Blake White truly cared for you, Sadie. It's not nice to play with people's emotions. I really thought you wanted to be my friend but you obviously hate me... _why?_ " Ro gave Sadie a hurt look.

Sadie looked up and snorted at the other girl. She put the cigarette between her lips and took another drag. "You went out on a date with my Devon! Don't think I don't know all about it! Slut!" Sadie accused heatedly, her body trembling with rage.

Ro sighed. "It wasn't a date...not really. I had to go out with him for other reasons. I...don't like Devon, in that way. Now, how do _you_ really feel about Devon? Are you just going out with him because he's the number one rockstar in the country right now...or because of something else?"

Sadie frowned as she looked down at Blake's picture. "I...you might not believe me but I cared about Blake too. But I think I was more in love with Blake's _voice_ than Blake as a person. He never really opened up to me...even after we had sex. He had this wall up around his heart...

"I know Blake cared about me in his own way. But I also know that he didn't love me. I didn't feel loved. Blake White only loved one person and that was _himself_. Which is why Blake White never would have committed suicide, Ro. Blake was murdered by someone...I'm sure of it." Sadie looked up and met Ro's eyes with a surprisingly fierce expression.

Ro sucked in a breath.

Sadie tucked a stray blonde hair behind her ear as she gathered her thoughts. "At first, I wondered who had the most to gain from Blake's death and I thought it could be Devon who secretly liked to sing, and so I decided to go out with Devon in order to find out the truth but..."

Sadie blushed as she thought about all the things that had happened between her and Devon. "I fell for Devon instead. And I can tell you without a doubt in my heart that Devon is not the one who killed Blake. Unlike Blake, Devon's really opened up to me...he's let me take care of him when he's sick or hung over from drinking himself into unconsciousness wondering about _why_ Blake killed himself...or who dared to murder him. I think Devon suspects _something_ too. But we've never talked about it. All I can do is be there for him and support him. At first, I was just investigating him...trying to find out the truth. I never expected to fall in love." Sadie admitted and she put her cigarette out by sticking her tongue out and crushing the burning end of her cigarette on her tongue with a sizzle.

Ro flinched as she watched the freaky move. Blake and Ro were both stunned by Sadie's sudden revelation. Ro was curious to see what Blake's reaction would be to his ex-girlfriend saying that she did care about him but that he hadn't. Also, Sadie had just admitted that she'd truly fallen for Blake's best friend.

Ro looked at Blake and saw the saddest look on his face. It broke her heart. He looked like he was about to cry. Without a word Blake flew out of the bathroom, passing right through the bathroom door.

Ro looked at Sadie directly in her eyes. "I promise I won't tell Devon what you did. You have my word."

Sadie let out a breath of relief and smiled. "You're not so bad, slut." Sadie declared before turning around, grabbing her makeup bag, and heading for the bathroom door. She paused as she reached her hand out to unlock the door. "Thanks." She said before she unlocked the door and exited.

As soon as Sadie left and the bathroom door closed, Ro sunk to her knees. She was physically and emotionally drained by the strange encounter. With trembling fingers Ro got out her list of murder suspects and crossed Sadie's name off the list. Sadie Skellington could be a conniving two-faced bitch but...she hadn't murdered Blake White.

Ro's ice-blue eyes fell upon the name 'Vincent Sangre' next. Ro had noticed that Carrie was getting closer and closer to Vincent as of late. She had to clear Vincent's name ASAP...to protect her friend Carrie who had protected her and come to her rescue when she had fallen into Dr. Cole's clutches.

_I have to find out the truth behind Vincent Sangre. I have to look after Carrie._ Ro vowed to herself in a determined manner.

***

It was Carrie's day off. The witch had requested a day off from work at Wraythe Records, so that she could stay home with her family in order to help her younger sister, Rosemary, catch up on her homework over the weekend. Thankfully, Manager Brody had allowed it. Carrie's mother and father had abandoned their family leaving the responsibility of taking care of the rest of the family up to her. Carrie's younger sister Rosemary was twelve-years-old, had long black hair and a serious demeanor. Carrie had a little six-year-old sister named Lilith, but everyone called her 'Lily'. Lily had a twin brother the same age named 'Samael', but everyone just called him 'Sammy'. Lily and Sammy both had the same haircut - a chin-length bob of black hair. The youngest member of the household was baby Draven. Draven was a cute little six-month-old baby that had blonde curls and big blue eyes.

Carrie was dressed in one of her usual spectacular gothic dresses, but since she was at home taking care of her siblings she had an apron on over her outfit. She was in the kitchen adding some spaghetti to a pot of boiling water when the doorbell rang making Carrie jump. She frowned. _More bill collectors?_ But Carrie had paid everything off for now thanks to Wraythe Records. "I'll get it!" Carrie declared as she headed for the door with Lily and Sammy attached to the gown of her dress. Carrie frowned down at them. The poor kids definitely had abandonment issues. Spoon in hand, Carrie opened the door to see none other than Vincent Sangre standing in her doorway!

Carrie's jaw dropped open. What the hell was Vincent doing at her house? She looked past him and saw that his maroon-colored Phantom Rolls Royce was parked right outside. Vincent was wearing the Victorian suit that Carrie had designed along with a top hat that was pulled down low to shadow his face in case there were paparazzi hiding in the bushes. The drummer was also wearing his signature round yellow sunglasses and his hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail - a look that Carrie had never seen him sport before.

Her exotic dark-brown eyes were drawn next to the bouquet of flowers that were in his hands. They were the most unusual looking roses she had ever seen - a magenta color with black edges. Could those be real? They looked real.

Carrie continued to gawk at the sight of Vincent Sangre standing in her doorway, looking all hot and delectable, and with a bouquet of roses in his hands. Carrie pinched her cheek, sure that she must be dreaming. "Ow..." Or maybe she was hallucinating? Maybe he had the wrong house? Did she accidentally put a shroom into the spaghetti sauce?

Vincent was looking at Carrie equally stunned. The sight of a Goth witch in an apron and with two little kids clinging to her skirts was...unexpected. Vincent raised an eyebrow at her, and couldn't help but wonder who the kids were. Surely...they weren't Carrie's?

Vincent took his round yellow sunglasses off, folded them and slipped them into a jacket pocket. Vincent then took his top hat off and bowed. "Do forgive me for stopping by unannounced. Is now a bad time, dear lady?"

Carrie shut her jaw with an audible click. "Uh...what are you doing here?" Carrie felt like hitting herself over the head as soon as the words left her mouth. _Smooth Carrie, real smooth._

"I wanted to thank you properly for my lovely new suit. I also wanted to ask you out on a date. Here, these are for you." Vincent handed Carrie the flowers.

Carrie absentmindedly took the extravagant bouquet of purple and black roses. At first she had thought they were silk flowers but upon closer inspection she found that they were indeed real and very fragrant. "How...purple roses?" Carrie looked down at the flowers in confusion and awe.

Vincent shrugged, "Dyed of course."

"Of course," Carrie muttered looking at the roses.

Vincent stood awkwardly in the doorway beginning to look more and more out of place. Carrie seemed to realize this. "Ah, I'm sorry, come on in..." Carrie stepped aside and ushered Vincent inside. "Ah, the pasta!" Carrie ran for the kitchen. "I hope I didn't overcook it! Shit! We're just about to sit down for lunch by the way. We're having spaghetti!" Carrie yelled from the kitchen.

Vincent chuckled drying at Carrie's antics as he entered the house and closed the door behind him. "Is that so? I'd love to join you..." Vincent tried to follow Carrie into the kitchen, but Lily and Sammy stood in his way.

The two Goth twins looked up at Vincent silently and stared. "Your eyes are red." Lily pointed out in a droning tone.

"Are you a vampire?" Sammy asked in a dreary voice.

"Are you here to drink Carrie's blood?" Lily added.

"Will Carrie be 'going away' just like Mommy and Daddy?" Sammy asked with wide eyes.

"Ah! Lily! Sammy! Don't bother Vincent with weird questions!" Came Carrie's order from the kitchen. "I'm sorry, Vincent, they're my siblings."

_Ah, siblings._ A rush of relief spread through the drummer's body. Vincent knelt down so he could look the two kids in the eyes. "My eyes are red because of a unique genetic trait I have in my DNA. I'm not a vampire - though I wish I were. I would never harm your older sister, Carrie. And I'm pretty sure she'd never leave you."

Lily and Sammy looked at each other and nodded. Carrie was surprised when Vincent walked into the kitchen holding both Lily and Sammy's hands. She had the strange urge to go 'awww!'. But she held herself in check.

Vincent breathed in deep. "Mmmm that smells delicious. May I have a taste?"

"Sure." Carrie dipped a wooden spoon into the sauce and scooped up a dollop. She held out the spoon for Vincent to take.

Vincent shrugged and gave Carrie an apologetic look. "As you can see. I have my hands full...you'll have to feed it to me." Vincent said matter-of-factly but there was a mischievous glint in his red eyes.

Carrie tried hard not to blush as she brought the spoon out towards Vincent's lips. The drummer opened his mouth and Carrie put the spoon inside. She was so nervous that her hand was trembling slightly, and this caused a drop of pasta sauce to dribble down the corner of Vincent's mouth. It looked like blood.

Vincent swallowed the sauce. "Mmmm tasty." He said and then his pink tongue darted out of his mouth to lap up the sauce that was trickling down his chin in a very sensual manner.

Carrie swallowed, her mouth feeling dry suddenly as she watched Vincent do this. Why was Vincent so fucking sexy?

The twins were giggling. "He's a vampire, teehee." "He's going to suck your blood."

"I would love to join you and your family for lunch. Although I understand if I'd be imposing." Vincent drawled, giving Carrie an oddly sheepish look.

Carrie was at a loss and didn't really know what to say. "I...er..."

"Of course, you can stay, Vincent." Lily piped up.

"Stay Vincent!" Sammy added with a crooked grin.

Lily and Sammy began to drag Vincent off towards the dining room before Carrie could object. Carrie watched them go with a bemused expression on her face. Who would have thought Vincent Sangre - punk rock drummer and reputed playboy - was good with kids?

As Lily, Sammy, and Vincent passed the stairs that led to the second floor of Carrie's house there came a voice:

"What's all the commotion?"

Vincent looked up and saw a young girl with long black hair dressed in a pair of sweatpants and an _Erotic Corpses_ t-shirt (one that had only been sold at one of their live performances) and who was carrying a small baby in her arms. Vincent raised an eyebrow at this since the girl looked much too young to have a child of her own. He deduced these must be more of Carrie's siblings.

Rosemary spotted Vincent Sangre and froze. Her eyes widened like saucers and she raised her finger to point at the drummer. "V-V-Vincent Sangre?! What the hell is he doing here? Ahhh!" Rosemary screamed and ran back up the stairs. Vincent could hear the sound of her running down the hall, and then the sound of a door opening and slamming shut. From within her room Rosemary yelled out to her sister. "Carrie! Why didn't you tell me Vincent Sangre was here?!"

Vincent chuckled at the girl's antics. "Pray tell, who was that intriguing girl?" The drummer directed his question to the twins.

"My older sister, Rosemary." Lily explained. "She's twelve."

"And that was our baby brother, Draven. He's six month old." Sammy put in.

"Ah," Vincent said with a nod. _What a big family...how nice._

Lily and Sammy still had a hold of Vincent's hands and so led him to the dinning room next. Within the dinning room was a large rectangular shaped table that had eight chairs around it. Three chairs were situated on the longer sides of the table, and one chair was situated at each head. Vincent took a seat at the right side of the table with a twin on either side of him.

Vincent noted that the table had already been set with placemats, plates and silverware. He smirked to himself, thinking that he hadn't expected Carrie to be so domestic. A few minutes later, Carrie entered the dinning room balancing plates like a pro-waitress on her arms. She went around the table setting plates of pasta down before everyone on the placemats.

"ROSEMARY! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE! LUNCH IS READY!" Carrie yelled out at the top of her lungs and then she remembered that Vincent was there. Her gaze flickered over to the drummer, and she slapped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment as her cheeks grew pink.

Vincent chuckled at her obvious embarrassment. "Don't hold back on my account. From what I've seen of your family, they're really nice. It must be nice...having a big family like this..." Vincent trailed off with a sad, wistful note to his voice.

"Our parents abandoned us..." Carrie began in a bitter tone. "I've been working several part-time jobs so that I can support my siblings and so we won't have to give up the house. Thanks to Wraythe Records I don't think we're going to lose the house any time soon though since I'm able to make the mortgage payments now. But for a while we were walking on thin ice. It was pretty scary."

"Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't know..." Vincent gave Carrie a compassionate look. "It's better that they simply left..." He said softly and more to himself than to Carrie. It must have been hard for her to take care of her siblings on her own like this. Vincent vowed that he would do anything in his power to help her.

"What?" Carrie asked, giving Vincent a curious look.

Vincent shook his head. "No, it's nothing."

Carrie narrowed her eyes at Vincent suspiciously. "What about your family, Vincent? I'm sure it's more normal than ours." She laughed hollowly.

A dark shadow fell over Vincent's handsome olive-skinned face. "I have no family."

Carrie sucked in a breath when she saw the pain that was showing clearly in Vincent's red eyes. "Vincent, I'm so sorry. I-" Carrie was trying to apologize for her careless comments when Rosemary and baby Draven arrived.

Rosemary was now wearing a floor-length, medieval gown with a black, laced-up corset, belled sleeves, and the pattern of red roses on it. She entered the dinning room with baby Draven in her arms. Rosemary shot a glare Carrie's way. "Geez, sis, why didn't you tell me Vincent Sangre was coming over for lunch?"

Carrie sighed and rubbed at her temples with her index fingers. "Maybe because I didn't know."

Vincent gave Carrie a sympathetic look but he still couldn't help but enjoy the intimate family atmosphere.

Rosemary set Draven into a kiddy high chair that was situated on the left side of the table. Rosemary then set a small plate of spaghetti in front of Draven and then sat down in front of Vincent. She looked up and gave Vincent a shy smile. "Hi."

Carrie rolled her eyes at her obviously star-stuck sister, but she wasn't much better. "Ahem," Carrie cleared her throat. "Let's say grace." Carrie had taken her seat at the head of the table and reached out to take Sammy's and Draven's hand. Sammy and Lily both took Vincent's hands while Rosemary took Draven's other hand and closed the circle by reaching across the table and taking Lily's hand.

"Grace?" Vincent arched an elegant eyebrow at Carrie. She was a Wicca witch who worshipped the Goddess...right? It surprised him that she would be saying grace.

"It was how we were raised," Carrie explained with a shrug as she said the blessing. "Bless us O Lord and for These Thy Gifts which we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful. Amen."

"Amen." Vincent said softly. He didn't think there was a point in telling all of them that he was an atheist just yet. If God existed he wouldn't have let what happened to his family happen, or so he believed. "So you believe in God _and_ the Goddess?" Vincent asked Carrie teasingly.

Carrie shot Vincent a perturbed look. "I can believe what I want to believe in but my brothers and sisters need to be raised properly. What do you believe in, Vincent?"

"Nothing." Vincent deadpanned. "I believe in...myself, I guess."

Carrie blinked. "What do you mean...nothing?"

Vincent shrugged. "I don't believe in God or a Goddess or anything really." He explained in a despondent tone.

Rosemary gasped.

"Why don't you believe in God?" Asked Lily curiously.

"Lily!" Carrie reprimanded her little sister.

Vincent held up a hand. "It's quite alright..." Vincent gave Lily a sad, little smile. "Maybe there is a God and I'm sure he loves a sweet little girl like you, but if God does exist he has forsaken me and so for _me_ there is no God. God does not exist."

"Why do you think God doesn't love you?" Sammy asked, frowning at Vincent.

Another dark shadow fell over Vincent's handsome features. He remained silent for a moment and then opened his mouth to speak but Carrie suddenly clapped her hands. "That's enough questions, you two!" She scolded the twins and she took a nervous sip of her soda.

"Are you going to marry, Carrie?" Lily asked the drummer abruptly.

Carrie and Rosemary had both been taking sips of their drinks at that exact moment and so both girls ended up spitting out their soda onto the table in a very unladylike manner.

"Lily!" Carrie objected while looking embarrassed. Vincent thought Carrie's expression was quite endearing.

"No way!" Rosemary objected loudly, before slapping a hand over her mouth, and blushing at her outburst while giving Carrie a nervous look.

Vincent looked at Carrie thoughtfully. "The man who gets to marry your sister...will be a very lucky man."

Carrie looked up and met Vincent's eyes. She was captivated by those stunning eyes that looked like rubies. But why did Vincent sound so sad? Carrie's spirits fell. _Why doesn't he think he can be that man? What am I thinking?_ Carrie shook her head. _We're not even dating or anything. We don't mean anything to each other. I don't mean anything to him...besides, Vincent has his beautiful brides..._

"Vincent probably has a girlfriend right now anyways. Don't you, Vincent?" Rosemary asked, giving Vincent a curious look.

Vincent chuckled. "As a matter of face, I'm currently single. I just broke up with my last girlfriend."

Rosemary propped her chin in her hand and quirked her head at Vincent. "Oh, has it been a month already?"

Vincent nodded solemnly.

"So the next girl you date...is it also only going to be for a month?" Rosemary asked giving Vincent a suspicious look.

Vincent nodded. "Yes, that is correct. I wanted to ask your sister Carrie out on a date today actually, but I had no idea she would be so...occupied." Vincent put his hands out before him in a helpless gesture.

Rosemary's jaw dropped. Vincent Sangre wanted to ask her sister Carrie out on a date?! _No way._

Carrie frowned at Vincent. "I'm looking after my siblings today because it's the weekend and they need me. It was nice having you over for lunch, but I think you should go now."

Vincent cut her off before she could say more. "How would you kids all like to go to Six Flags?" Vincent suddenly suggested.

"The amusement park? Yea!" Lily exclaimed excitedly beginning to bounce up and down in her seat.

"Oh yes, please take us! We wanna go!" Sammy joined in with his sister lean towards Vincent with a rapt look on his face.

Baby Draven had gotten caught up in all of the excitement and began to clap his chubby little hands together and giggle happily.

"Oh, an amusement park...I've never gotten to go to one." Rosemary revealed in a wistful tone.

Carrie glared at her unruly siblings. "Stop it. We can't possibly go to an amusement park. Do you know how much it would cost to buy tickets for all of us? It would be _way_ too expensive. We're _so_ not going."

"It would be my treat, of course." Vincent put in, in his drawling tone. This statement was met with excited cheers by Carrie's siblings.

"Yay!" "Yea! Amusement park! Here we come!" "Oh, how splendid."

Carrie slapped a hand to her forehead and groaned. "Ugh...Vincent you've created a den of little monsters."

Vincent chuckled. "Kids should be spoiled every once in a while." Vincent declared firmly as he stood up. "Come on kids. Grab your jackets and let's be off, shall we?"

"YEA!" Sammy, Lily and Rosemary all agreed together.

Carrie sighed and rubbed at her temples. She looked at Vincent just standing there and couldn't help but notice his regal air. He had this shinning aura about him. Celebrities were really cut from a different cloth than the rest. They were from completely different worlds...Carrie could see the ravine that separated them I her mind. She wasn't a part of his world...

The kids all got up from the table and followed Vincent towards the door. Rosemary picked up Draven from the high chair and quickly followed after the rest. The group grabbed their respective jackets from the closet that was closest to the front door, and began to put them on. Carrie dragged her feet towards the closet. She shouldn't have given Vincent that gift. Maybe he took it the wrong way and thought that she was flirting with him. She frowned at the thought.

But...regardless she felt she needed to thank Vincent for what he did. Even if he was still a murder suspect.

This thought made Carrie wonder what Vincent Sangre was up to suddenly and made her stop in her tracks. Why was he _really_ there? And what did he want? Did he suspect Ro or herself of being close to uncovering the dark truth, perhaps? Vincent had seemed a bit...tortured during lunch. And he had admitted to being an atheist. Those without God in their life had no real conscience, no reason to stop them from doing horrible things. What would really stop him from killing someone?

_Vincent is a murder suspect. Don't forget it. He could be the one who killed Blake White._ Carrie thought grimly to herself.

Vincent, oblivious to Carrie's dark thoughts, smiled warmly at her as he opened and held the door open for her. The witch shook her head as she walked past him with swift steps. The dashing man was definitely an enigma.

_Vincent Sangre who are you, really?_ Carrie wondered. The group exited the house and the Ashmore family all gazed upon Vincent's impressive Rolls Royce with awe.

"Ooo, pretty." Lily said as she ran towards the car.

"It's not 'pretty' sis. It's awesome!" Sammy corrected. The twins began to run circles around Vincent's car.

"I bet that car cost a fortune. It's a Rolls Royce isn't it?" Rosemary breathed.

"Rosemary!" Carrie chided her sister with an embarrassed look on her face.

Vincent chuckled. "That's quite alright. It did indeed cost a fortune. But that's one of the perks of being a famous drummer. We get a sweet ride." Vincent unlocked his car and the twins, Rosemary, and the baby got into the back seat. Carrie moved into the front passenger seat while Vincent got in behind the wheel. Vincent leaned over to help Carrie put on her seatbelt and let his touch linger so that he could enjoy the temporary closeness to the mysterious beauty.

Carrie's brow began to furrow as Vincent's hands stayed on the seatbelt longer than was necessary. She turned her head to give Vincent a questioning look and that's when she realized their faces were mere inches apart. The witch swallowed nervously and Vincent smiled back innocently at her before pulling back. This left Carrie with a feeling of disappointment in her chest that she didn't want to admit to. _Jerk._ She mentally pouted.

Vincent drove the group to Six Flags Discovery Kingdom that was close to San Francisco. The drummer parked his Rolls Royce in the parking lot and hoped no one would try to steal his baby. Vincent took out his sunglasses and put them back on his face. He also put his top hat back on his head to better shadow his face from view. The last thing they needed was a riot of _Erotic Corpses_ fans chasing after them while they were trying to have fun at the park. The group exited the car and made their way to the entrance of the amusement park where Vincent purchased them all tickets. General admission tickets cost $61.99 each, tickets for kids under 48" cost $42.99, and kids that were 2 and under got in the park for free. Vincent's total came to $271.95.

The group entered the park, the kids at a run. Carrie felt a little guilty that Vincent had just had to cough up $271.95 for her and her family to have a day at the amusement park but she was also worried about what his true intentions were. She was watching Vincent like a hawk wondering just what he was up to. What his motives were. _Just what are you up to Vincent Sangre?_

Vincent caught Carrie staring at him and smiled smugly. "Can't keep your eyes off of me can you?" Vincent said in a low, husky voice so that only Carrie would hear.

_Jackass._ Carrie blushed. "You're imagining things."

Vincent just chuckled and walked on ahead. The twins took Vincent's hands and Carrie flinched. It was really hard thinking of Vincent as a murder suspect while he was walking hand in hand with the twins. He was really good with kids. He couldn't be that bad a person...even if he was an atheist. But even then maybe he had a good reason for being an atheist. Carrie wondered why she wanted to give Vincent the benefit of the doubt so badly.

Rosemary began walking next to her sister. "You like him. Don't you?" She said softly.

Carrie snapped her head in Rosemary's direction. "Huh? I do not."

"You keep staring at him..." Rosemary didn't sound too convinced as she gave her sister a piercing look. "And I think he likes you too. Unfortunately." Rosemary sighed, feeling jealous.

Carrie's mouth opened and closed. She couldn't tell her sister the real reason she was feeling uneasy about this whole Vincent Sangre situation was because he might be a murderer!

"That's what I thought." Rosemary declared as she sped up to catch up to Vincent and the twins.

"I do not like him. " Carrie told herself firmly as she quickened her stride to keep pace with the others, her long gown billowing out behind her.

Carrie, Vincent, Rosemary, the twins and baby Draven ended up going on a series of family friendly rides. First they went on _Scat-A-Bout_ \- a ride that had three arms, each of which spun their four pads round and round in circles. Next they went on _The Arc_ \- a huge swinging ship. The group followed that by going on the _Wave Jumper_ \- a ride where they got to ride a flying orca that lifted off into the air. Lastly, the group went on the _Wave Swinger_ where they got to soar through the air on a flying swing.

After going on so many kiddy rides Carrie and Vincent asked the kids if they would let them ride a roller coaster alone while Rosemary stayed behind to take care of the younger kids. This was how Vincent and Carrie ended up in line for a roller coaster alone together. Vincent took Carrie's hand while she wasn't looking and when Carrie tried to pull away Vincent only tightened his hold upon her hand.

"Hey, let go, what if someone sees..." Carrie hissed, looking around nervously.

Vincent raised an eyebrow at her. "Like who? Your sister? And I'm in disguise."

"Pfft." Carrie snorted looking him up and down. "Some disguise...it's _so_ obvious you're Vincent Sangre."

"I guess...I'll just wait here for you both." Rosemary was saying to herself in a dreary tone with Draven in her arms and Lily and Sammy attached to her sides. She pouted as she watched Vincent help Carrie into the roller coaster car from her position on the platform.

Two male amusement park employees were giving Vincent and Carrie curious looks due to their extravagant Gothic and Victorian outfits. "Dude, do you think they're filming a movie here or something?" One of the employees asked aloud.

The other amusement park employee just shrugged in response, as he looked around the area expecting to see a camera crew pop out of nowhere.

Carrie noticed her sister's pouting expression and felt guilty. She stood up and tried to get out of the roller coaster car, "Ah, on second thought Rosemary why don't you take my place and go instead. I'll take care of the others." However-

Vincent reached out, grabbed Carrie's hand, and yanked her back down into the car and practically into his lap.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Carrie snapped at him.

Vincent leaned forward to speak into Carrie's ear. " _Please_ , I want you to go with me. I want to live this moment as if it could be our last." He begged.

Carrie let out a little huff as she reluctantly settled back down in her seat. "Alright, fine. You can let go of my hand."

Vincent smirked. "But I'm so scared." The drummer made his voice quaver.

Carrie tried to pull her hand out of Vincent's again but his grip was incredibly strong. The witch let out a frustrated sigh and gave up. But having her hand held by Vincent was making her heart rate speed up. She blamed her erratic heartbeat on the fact that the roller coaster car had just started off down the track though. The safety bar was lowered and the roller coaster car approached its first climb. It reached the top and then began its fast descent. Carrie tried hard not to scream but eventually a scream was wrenched from her lips. She turned to look at Vincent and noted that he was screaming too. That brought a smile to her lips and she clenched Vincent's hand.

She had suspected that Vincent's hand would be cold like a vampire but she was surprised to find that today it was warm. The feeling of Vincent's fingers wrapped around her own was comforting somehow. She felt safe in his presence but she knew that all that could possibly be an illusion. Before she even realized it the ride was over and Vincent was helping her to get out of the car. Carrie felt an odd pang of regret that the ride had gone so quickly.

Rosemary glared at Carrie and Vincent noticing their locked hands. "P.D.A much, sis?"

"Huh?" Carrie wondered before she realized that she was still holding hands with Vincent. She hadn't even noticed. At that point it had seemed almost natural. It was like her body kept magnetizing in his direction. _Stupid pheromones._ Carrie thought glaring at Vincent suspiciously since it was obviously his fault. _He probably uses them on all the girls._

Vincent began to use every following ride as an opportunity to throw himself at Carrie in fear and cling to her shamelessly. As they rode a tame ride called _Monkey Business_ that was a classic teacups-style ride Vincent wrapped his arms around Carrie and hugged her tightly while crying out: 'Carrie! I'm scared!'.

Carrie quickly hit Vincent over the head with her first. "Like hell you are, pervert!"

At first it irritated the hell out of Carrie, but after a while she secretly began to enjoy all the attention Vincent was giving her. As they walked through the amusement park Carrie could feel the eyes of curious park goers upon them. The witch was somewhat surprised that no one had noted Vincent's identity yet.

"Hey, isn't that person famous?" A young woman asked her husband in a hushed voice as she discreetly pointed towards Vincent.

"Yea, wait, I think he's Vin-" The woman's husband was saying, but Vincent noticed and grabbed the twins' hands before he took off running.

"Everyone RUN!" Vincent yelled as their group ran away from the perceptive couple.

It was hard being so famous! Vincent thought to himself with a self-satisfied expression on his face. Vincent and Carrie took the kids to one of the animal areas next so that the kids got to see: Tava, the majestic African elephant, Jocko, a friendly and playful walrus that liked to smush it's face up against the glass when you were looking at it, and Odin a rare Bengal tiger that liked to swim!

As they were walking through one of the animal areas, Vincent's blood ran cold when he spotted two of his brides: Scarlett and Candra. _What the hell are they doing here?_ Vincent frowned to himself and saw that they were about to turn their way. Vincent acted quickly, grabbed Carrie's wrist, and took off running.

The last thing he wanted was for his brides to see him on this kind of romantic date with Carrie. There was no telling what the jealous fan girls might do to Carrie otherwise.

"What the hell, Vincent?" Carrie objected as Vincent ran off with her, leaving the others behind. "What are you doing? We can't just leave the others!"

"Quiet!" Vincent hissed as he pulled Carrie behind the wooden cutout of a panda. He peered behind the panda to see if the brides were still in the area.

Carrie looked at Vincent curiously and tilted her head at him. "Were they fans?"

Vincent nodded. "Something like that. Let's continue, shall we?" The drummer started forward but then he suddenly stumbled as his head spun. Vincent put a hand to his head and groaned. He would have fallen face-first onto the ground if Carrie hadn't reached out and grabbed Vincent's arm to steady him.

"Vincent?!" Carrie exclaimed out of concern. "What's wrong?"

"N-Nothing..." Vincent said through gritted teeth as he tried to ignore the acute pain in his chest. "It's just a bit of heat stroke."

"I see a bench over there." Carrie said as she guided Vincent over to a bench and helped him to sit down. "I'll go get us some ice-cream so that we can cool down, okay? I'll be right back."

Vincent looked up at Carrie and offered her a weak smile. "That would be splendid, my dear."

A few minutes later, Carrie returned with two soft-serve ice-creams in her hands. "Chocolate or vanilla?" She offered.

"Vanilla." Vincent said and Carrie handed him the ice-cream as she took a seat next to the drummer on the bench.

The couple silently ate their ice-creams together and Carrie watched the drummer surreptitiously out of the corner of her eye to make sure he was okay. Carrie couldn't help but wonder why Vincent was being so nice to her. Or was that just his personality? She wanted to believe in him, but...they still hadn't proven Vincent's innocence yet. As Carrie ate her ice-cream thoughtfully her expression turned troubled.

Vincent, who had also been watching Carrie out of the corner of his eye noticed her change in attitude almost immediately. "Is something wrong, my dear? You look sad all of a sudden."

Carrie shook her head. "Ah, no, nothing's wrong. I think we should go find the others though if your fans have left."

Vincent stood up and looked over towards where he had seen his brides earlier. He let out a sigh of relief when they were nowhere to be seen. "Yes, it's safe for us to return to the others." Vincent offered Carrie his hand and she found herself taking it. After Vincent and Carrie had reunited with the others, Vincent insisted on taking them all shopping at one of the Six Flag gift shops. There he had fun spoiling the kids by buying them funny hats and stuffed animals of all their favorite animals.

Carrie didn't say anything but she was extremely grateful for this since she hadn't gotten her siblings any toys for Christmas and had instead only gifted her family with practical items. But as Carrie watched her siblings' faces light up with happiness at the toys she realized her mistake.

All in all, they had a great day. Carrie kept her eyes on Vincent the entire time but couldn't find a single fault, er, suspicious action. The only thing she learned was that Vincent Sangre loved kids and was very good with them. And just like a vampire he seemed to get weak when exposed to too much sunlight! She mentally chuckled to herself at the outlandish thought. The witch was surprised and touched that he had taken her entire family to the amusement park and apparently there had been no ulterior motives.

_Stay still my heart._ The more she watched him interact with her family the more she felt like she was really falling for him.

And that was something she wasn't supposed to do. _Blake is going to kill me if he finds out about this._ Carrie thought and rubbed her arms as a chill went down her spine.

As the sun began to set, orange, purple and red clouds streaked the blue sky. Vincent gazed at the purple clouds with a wistful expression on his face. "Purple...how lovely. It reminds me of..." He trailed off sadly.

Carrie gave Vincent a curious look but the drummer walked on ahead and didn't finish his sentence. They group decided to call it a day and left the park. Vincent drove the family back to their home and a heavy silence seemed to have descended upon them all since they didn't want the fun day to end. Vincent was soon pulling up in front of the Ashmore's house, however.

"Thanks for taking us to the park, Vincent!" Lily said as she got out of the car.

"Thanks bro!" Sammy said.

The twins exited the Rolls Royce and ran for the front door of the house, clutching their new stuffed toys to their chests possessively, and wearing their new funny hats proudly.

Blushing furiously, Rosemary thanked Vincent as she got out of the car next and stood next to the driver's side window. "Um...er...thank you so much for taking us, Vincent. It was very nice meeting you. Bye."

Baby Draven reached his chubby little hands towards Vincent and giggled. Vincent supposed that was the toddler's way of saying 'thank you'. Vincent reached his index finger out and let Draven grab it. "You're welcome, little man."

Carrie watched Rosemary head for the front door and sighed. She fidgeted in the front seat. It really wasn't like her to be so nervous. She was acting like Ro for heaven's sake! What the hell was wrong with her? "Um, thank you for everything Vincent." Carrie muttered as she reached for the door handle. "I guess I'll see you at work."

But Vincent's hand shot out and grabbed Carrie's upper arm, stopping her. "Wait Carrie...there's something I'd like to say."

Carrie lowered her hand from the door handle and let out a sigh. "Alright..." She said without looking at Vincent, her eyes focused on the view of her house through the window.

"Carrie, please look at me," Vincent begged as he took off his sunglasses.

Carrie reluctantly turned her head and met Vincent's stunning ruby-colored eyes.

"Carrie...I had a really nice day spending time with you and your family. Originally, I had planned on taking you out on a romantic date - just the two of us." Vincent winked at her roguishly. "But this was surprisingly quite enjoyable too. There's something I've wanted to tell you. The entire day..." Vincent took a deep breath. "Carrie, I like you. A lot. And I would be honored if you would go out with me." Vincent reached out to cup Carrie's face and leaned forward, but Carrie didn't close her eyes and just stared at Vincent boldly.

"And for how long would we go out? A month?" She asked harshly. "And then you'd get tired of me and kick me to the curb like you do to all those other poor girls?"

Vincent let out a sad sigh. "Carrie...you're different from those other girls. I think I'm really falling for you. That's why I want to spend more time with you. If you agree to go out with me, there doesn't have to be a time limit. You can have me as long as you want me, Carrie. I should be stronger than this, but I'm not. I should be pushing you away, but all I want is you. All I see is you. Please go out with me...forever..."

Vincent leaned forward again and Carrie knew that the smart thing to do would be to push him away or slap him, but she found herself closing her eyes. Vincent's lips met hers in a tender kiss. He moved his lips against hers gently and sweetly. But as Carrie began to grow more confident and respond to Vincent's kiss their kiss became more passionate and the heat began to build between him. Soon Vincent's hands were caressing her arms and Carrie had reached out to grip Vincent's shirt to unconsciously bring him closer.

That's when Carrie realized that she was falling in too deep. Vincent Sangre was still a murder suspect. But at that moment she just didn't care. She knew she was falling head-over-heels in love with the sexy drummer.

Carrie and Vincent pulled back for air several minutes later and Carrie swore profusely. "Shit...shit...shit...!"

A smug smirk played on Vincent's lips. "It was good, wasn't it?"

Carrie groaned and put her face in her hands. How the hell was she going to explain this to Ro and Blake? How could she possibly tell them that she was going out with Vincent Sangre!

Vincent ran his thumb over Carrie's black lips and looked at her with a loving expression on his face. "Carrie..."

"Yes?"

"Will you be the mother of my child?"

Suddenly the romantic spell that Vincent had managed to temporarily put Carrie under was broken. Her eyebrow twitched and she instantly became angry. _What the hell?_ Carrie raised her hand and slapped Vincent hard across the face. Sex?! Was that all men thought about!

Carrie took advantage of Vincent's stunned state to get out of the car and slam the door behind her. She stomped her way over the front door of her house and reached for the doorknob.

Vincent quickly recovered, however, and exited from the driver's side door to pursue Carrie. "Carrie wait!" He called after her.

"No way!" Carrie shot back as she began to open the door.

But Vincent reached out, grabbed her arm, and spun her around to face him. Before Carrie could react Vincent pulled Carrie to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. "Please don't run away from me. Please don't just disappear on me. I won't let you escape. Just allow me to explain..."

"Let me go, you pervert!" Carrie struggled in Vincent's grasp.

"No, I won't let you go...not until you've heard me out...it's about my family..." Vincent began somberly.

Carrie immediately stopped struggling. She was very curious about why Vincent had said he had no family.

Vincent took a deep breath before he began his sad tale. "My mother was a fanatically religious woman and when she had a baby with red eyes..." Vincent put his hands out before him in a helpless gesture. "She believed I was a child of Satan. She tried to suffocate me with a pillow when I was only a few months old, but my father saved me. After that Father kept a close eye on me...

"Time passed and it appeared as though perhaps my mother had accepted me. However, when I was eleven-years-old my mother purchased a gun. First, she shot my father, then my little sister, and then she shot me. After that she shot herself in the head. It was supposed to be a family suicide. My father, sister and mother died that day. I should have died too, but miraculously I survived...

"At the age of eleven I was put into the foster care system, and into an orphanage. I couldn't touch my inheritance until I turned eighteen and legally became an adult. Because of my red eyes I was never adopted. The proprietor of the orphanage took pity on me, however and gave me a loan so I could continue my studies in private schools since she knew I'd be able to pay her back later with my inheritance. Because I was still able to go to private schools I was able to keep up my childhood friendships with Blake, Devon and Joey.

"As I grew up and became more and more handsome girls began to pay attention to me. They didn't care about my red eyes anymore because the _Twilight_ book series had lots of young girls and women wishing that they could have a 'vampire boyfriend'. I was suddenly 'in'. They called me a vampire and at least it wasn't a 'demon' or 'monster' or 'spawn of Satan', and so I embraced this new liberating identity. I became what they called me...a vampire...

"Going through my adolescence, without a mother or father or siblings was hard. But there were also so many other kids suffering just like me at the orphanage. When I have a child...I'm going to show that child how much I love him or her. I'm going to shower him or her with love regardless of how he or she looks, regardless of the color of his or her eyes. I will spoil my child rotten until my last breath. This is a secret dream of mine...to have a child...and show him or her all the love I wish I had growing up from my own mother...and to leave a footprint behind.

"So I did not mean to offend you, Carrie. But when I look at you and your siblings, I can't help but think to myself. 'Ah, this woman could be the mother of my child and I know my child would be happy'." Vincent finished and looked at Carrie expectantly, and with eyes shinning full of hope.

Carrie had tears in her eyes by the end of his story and was trying hard not to break down crying. She was trying so hard not to be moved by Vincent's story, but she was already lost.

"Can you forgive me, my dear Carrie?" Vincent asked and held his breath.

Carrie walked up to Vincent with swift steps and raised her hand as if she would slap him again-

Vincent flinched.

But then, Carrie cupped his cheek lovingly instead. "Of course, I forgive you, idiot..." Carrie stepped up on her tiptoes and kissed Vincent on the lips in a tender manner.

I'm so sorry Ro. I'm falling hard for Vincent Sangre...the Vampire Prince.

What Vincent and Carrie did not know was that Vincent's two brides had followed Vincent's distinctive, burgundy-colored Rolls Royce all the way back from the Six Flags back to Carrie's house. Scarlett was behind the wheel of her sexy, red Porsche convertible, and Candra was seated in the front seat. Annabel - the Leader of the Vincent Sangre fan club - was not with them. Annabel was also unaware that Scarlett and Candra had followed Vincent to Six Flags using a GPS device that Scarlett had placed inside of Vincent's top hat. The duo had secretly followed Vincent and Carrie's family the entire day. Scarlett knew that Annabel would be very displeased if she knew what she and Candra had been up to, and that's why she hadn't told the third bride of her plans.

Scarlett was chewing on her red fingernail as she glared at Vincent and Carrie kissing. "That bitch...how dare she?! The only ones allowed to touch Vincent like that are _us_ \- his beloved brides. And we don't like to share."

"Vincent can't belong to one girl. He belongs to us!" Candra was also looking unsettled by this unexpected turn of events. "But what can we do? It looks like Vincent really does like her." The cute girl began to chew on her pouty lower lip.

Scarlett clenched her hands on the steering wheel in front of her. "We can just get rid of her. That's what." A wicked smile curled Scarlett's lips and there was an evil glint in her emerald green eyes.

Candra was nodding and giving Scarlett an impressed look. "Ooo. Why didn't I think of that? You're so smart, Scarlett!" The bride praised.

Scarlett's expression turned smug. "I know." _Carrie Ashmore. Your days are numbered._

To be continued...in Book 2

Rockstar Ghost Resurrection

Now available!

###

Final note:

Questions? Feedback?

You can reach the author on Facebook and YouTube as:

KuroKoneko Kamen

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http://kyoux.deviantart.com

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Visit the Rockstar Ghost official facebook page:

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All song titles that were used as chapter titles in this book

belong to the bands that created them:

I wanna be sedated - Ramones

California Uber Alles - Dead Kennedys

Waiting Room - Fugazi

Bastards of Young - The Replacements

Search and Destroy - The Stooges

Personality Crisis - New York Dolls

Death or Glory - The Clash

Complete Control - The Clash

Where Eagles Dare - The Misfits

American Jesus - Bad Religion

Psycho Killer - Talking Heads

Ever Fallen in Love - Buzzcocks

Other works by the author:

Bitch Heiress X Samurai Butler

Bitch Heiress X2 Samurai Butler

Sir Genkaku Host Club

(Books 1, 2, 3 and 4)

Samurai Superheroes Saga:

Cowboy Samurai X Badass Android

Geisha Assassin X Smartass Hacker

Foxy Yokai X Punkass Cyborg

Rockstar Ghost

Rockstar Ghost Resurrection

His Heavy Metal Heart

Sanky Panky Pirate

(parts I and II)

How to make a guy fall in love with you on facebook

Wicked Bartender

