I stood in my bedroom at Tori and Charlotte's, in front of my open closet, surveying my wardrobe. Tori and I had gone shopping twice during the week, and then one night, on a whim, the three of us had gone out and gotten matching tattoos. The word 'Survivor' now circled each of our right wrists, over and over, in tiny, black and gold letters. We had been to the spa Tori frequented that morning, and, like every other day that week, I had returned home feeling, well, just not right. Even after being at the spa, the dark circles remained under my eyes, and I knew well that I was now far too thin. I had diagnosed myself as suffering from severe stress, and prescribed extra rest.

Honestly, I could have slept four or five hours right then, but I was too excited to sleep. Tonight, I would see them. They might not see me, but I would see them. Perhaps that would be enough.I doubted it, but one could hope.

I stared at my wardrobe for another moment, before making a snap decision as to what to wear, pulling the garment out, and laying it across my bed. At that moment, Tori's face peeked around the slightly ajar door.

"Will you be ready to go in an hour?" she asked, her blue eyes sparkling in anticipation.

"An hour?" I cried. "But it's not even one!"

"Yeah, but there'll be a line. We need to get there early if we're gonna get up front. In fact, I'll bet there's little girls already lining the street," she replied, stepping into my room. She looked amazing, her hair pulled into a perfect, spiky,ponytail, with her long bangs swept over one eye, and she had added bright red streaks randomly through the platinum locks. Her pale skin had been made up perfectly, with heavy, black lines around her eyes. She wore a white tank top, a short, red plaid skirt, a studded belt, and knee high, black leather, high heeled boots. I looked her up and down enviously, and nervous tears threatened to spill from my eyes. Tori sighed, looking at the light blue sun dress spread over my bed. "No way," she said firmly. "You are NOT wearing that!" I felt my hands begin to shake.

"Help me!" I cried, as the tears began to fall down my cheeks. Tori sighed, and pulled a tissue from the box on the nightstand. Carefully, she wiped my eyes, and held the tissue while I blew my nose.

"Ok. But no more crying! I won't have you spoiling my work!" she said firmly, and I managed a weak smile. She gave me a gentle squeeze, then turned to my closet. As she tossed garments out, I pulled them on, first tight, black capri pants, then a tight, plain, black tee shirt that showed my midriff. She helped me attach a black leather, studded belt around my waist, then offered me my black and white converse all stars, even helping me tie them. "Can you still wear your nose ring, or has it healed?"

"I can wear it," I said softly, accepting the diamond stud she offered, and roughly poking it through the hole. She continued to hand me jewelry, a series of silver hoops in the many holes in my ears, random black plastic bracelets. Finally, she stood back and surveyed her work.

"Good," she said. "Casual, yet slightly punk, which is, I guess, kinda who you are, really. Ok, so now make up!"

"Un uh, no way!" I said immediately. "I don't wear make up!" I cried, throwing up my hands as she advanced on me.

"Tonight you do!" she replied. "Firstly, those circles are big enough to swallow Manhattan. You don't want him to see you looking like shit, do you? And secondly, you need to stand out in the dark so he can see you!"

"He's seen me looking like shit, and he's never seen me in make up!" I replied. She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Charlotte!" she yelled. A moment later, Charlotte's face peeked into the room, wearing a more cheerful expression than I had seen on her in ages.

"Sup?" she asked casually.

"Tell Angel she needs to wear make up," Tori said. Charlotte pushed open the door the rest of the way, and came in. She looked so cute, and just how I would have imagined my female Frank to look. Her curly, red hair was pulled into two braids, with curls escaping to frame her face. Her green eyes were heavily lined in black, with copious amounts of green eye shadow above and under her eyes, her bright red lips contrasting sharply with her pale skin. She wore a tight, pale pink tee shirt with a picture of a sheep on it, under which it said "Baaaa Means No!" over bright green, plaid capri pants, with a white, studded belt and what looked like a dog leash made out of chain wrapped around her waist. Tall, black, laced up, chunky boots sat on her feet. She looked incredibly eclectic, and slightly crazy, which was perfect for her, really. She came closer to me, and looked me up and down.

"You do need make up. Just for tonight, Angel. Come on, have fun with it! We're playing dress up, even Tori went a little punk, those red streaks look great by the way, come on, Angel, play with us!" she said, very fast, and I could hear the excitement in her voice.

"Alright, fine," I said, relenting. "Why is it you always get me to do what I don't want to?" Charlotte and Tori laughed, as Tori seated me on the edge of the bed.

"Cause we're down with the peer pressure," Charlotte replied, sitting in the chair by the window, and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one for each of us. We had all been smoking quite a lot in the past few months. Another symptom of stress, I figured.

As we smoked, Tori attacked first my face, then my hair, and even painted my short nails black. I had no choice but to sit and wait, curiously wondering what she was doing. It was, honestly, a little painful.

"There," she said eventually, stepping back. She and Charlotte stood over me, examining her handiwork.

"You look perfect," Charlotte said, very seriously. I stood up and moved past them, looking in the full length mirror on the back of the door. I think I actually gasped.

My skin looked white and perfect, but not as though I were wearing make up. Tori was good at this, I realized, as I noticed that the circles under my eyes had completely disappeared. My light, gray eyes were circled with black and gray, and my lips were blood red. My hair had been sleeked back into a low chignon at the base of my neck, though spikes and braided strands of hair escaped from the mass of black.

"It doesn't look like me," I whispered.

"It does. Your face looks like it looks when your happy," Charlotte said, and I smiled ruefully at her.

"We don't have time to change it anyway," Tori said. "We gotta go, or we'll never make it up front."

"Right," Charlotte said firmly. "Tori, you got the tickets?" Tori pulled a thin, white envelope out of her bra, waving it in the air, before stuffing it back against her breasts. "Angel, get your phone, cash, and ID, and let's go!" I did as she said, stuffing my things into my pants pocket. Charlotte grabbed my hand, big smile on her face, and the three of us ran out of the apartment.

We were late, we could see that as soon as we got to the venue. The line was enormous, and my heart fell. As Tori and Charlotte pulled me to the back of the line, I felt numb. At least I would see him. I had to keep telling myself that. Charlotte squeezed my hand.

"Don't worry, Koko," she said, as Tori draped an arm around my shoulders. "We only need to get up front for the last few songs, cause anyway, we don't wanna mess up their show. Don't worry," she repeated, laughing.

"That's right, Angel. Don't worry! This WILL work!"Tori said. I took a deep breath, composing myself.

"You're right," I replied softly. "I'm just nervous." We stood around for several minutes, drawing strength from each other's presence, and half listening to the excited conversation around us. "I've gotta pee," I said, very seriously, and then all three of us burst out laughing. "I'm gonna run over to that Starbucks on the corner, and use the bathroom. You guys want anything?"

"Water?" Tori asked.

"Cappuccino, lost of sugar," Charlotte replied. "You want me to come with?"

"Nah, I can make it. I'll be right back," I told her, before stepping out of line, and running towards the corner. I waited at the light, and crossed with the other pedestrians, hurried straight through the coffee shop and into the bathroom in the back. As soon as I was finished, I headed back to the counter, and placed my order. When I had paid, the barrista motioned me to the side to wait for my drinks. I turned around to step out of line, and when I did, I came face to face with someone very familiar, even with the hood over his head, and sunglasses covering his eyes.

"Frank?" I whispered in shock.

Notes

A ha! A cliffhanger! :)

I'm trying to be objective. It doesn't suck. It doesn't suck. It doesn't suck. No not at all. (Yeah. Sing that to I'm Not Ok. It works.)

Yup. I'm insane.