This was hell and Justin was the devil. Keisha was satanic, the car they rode in was a torture chamber and the makeup and tools she had used on her and the clothes she had put her in were torture devices. She didn’t remember when she died or what she had done so bad to deserve to be in hell, but here she was.

It was bad.

She had been poked in the eye; some weird thing that plucked half her eyelashes out had been used on her. Nasty tasting lipstick was still on her tongue. At least Keisha had used a powder on her face instead of a liquid, like she was going to. The liquid stuff looked horrible.

After Keisha had worked her magic and turned her around to look in the mirror, she didn’t recognize herself. Her eyes were more defined, her face actually had color, and she looked totally different. She admitted that she looked rather pretty, but it wasn’t real. It was fake. She looked like a Britney Spears wannabe. Her hair had been teased and curled and burnt and singed and now it was puled back from her face. It was wavy with a few sparkly clips in it.

And she wasn’t going to get started on her outfit. First of all, she was in a skirt. Skirts were bad: worse than bad. Besides the skirt that was black and hugged her, made it hard to walk, and had fringe on the end that kept brushing against her knees and itching her a little; she had on horrible boots. They were these black things with spiked heels and everytime she walked she felt like she was going to fall down because her center of gravity was off.

Lastly, there was the top. They had fought over what she was going to wear. Keisha wanted her in a backless top, she said no. Keisha wanted her in a sequiny top, she said no. Keisha wanted her in a tube top, she said no. They finally compromised on a blue tank that dipped down a bit in the front to show of some cleavage. That was another thing. Keisha had forced her into a "water-bra." Her small but sufficient breast were now huge.

She felt like Skipper, Barbie's bitch.

She walked about the same as Skipper with the floss that was stuck up her ass. She wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, but she was in a thong, and it was a thong that she owned. When she had turned in the mirror her panty lines looked like landing strips on her ass, and since she had totally transformed herself into everything she wasn’t, she thought, why the hell not.

The club was unlike any other club she had been to. Of course the only clubs she had been to were punk clubs where there was a stage, a mosh pit, a sea of standing people, and at the nice ones, a bar. This place had neat lighting, couches and chairs and smoke machines, and all sorts of other interesting things.

For example, the music.

Ok, so the music was horrible, therefore she figured it could be put in the interesting column. Keisha yelled something over her shoulder that Kristen couldn’t hear at all. She usually didn’t complain about loud music, but this was bad music, so she complained silently to herself.

"What?!" She yelled back.

But by then they had gotten to this little roped off section that had a sign much like they had at restaurants that said "Please wait to be seated," but this one had the letters, "VIP" on them.

Her eyes rolled.

There was a huge white guy standing by the sign with an ear piece, mouth piece and walkie talkie. Keisha was talking to the man and he said something into the walkie-talkie, waited, nodded and then unclipped the roped off section and let them through.

She needed Rick.

Rick would buy her screwdriver or a thing of peppermint snopps and soon she'd be having fun. Maybe Keisha would buy her a drink.

She was glad that Keisha was able to show her tour pass to the bouncer at the entrance and get them through without being carded or anything.

"We're here!" Keisha finally exclaimed sitting down on a red contemporary styled couch. Kristen sat down beside her.

"Now what?"

"What do you mean now what? We dance, we drink, we party. Lance!!!"

Kristen looked up and tried not to laugh. She had heard from Justin that Lance was a partier, but she didn’t belive it. There he was, drink in hand, face red as a apple. "Keish!!!" He said in a slur, bending down to hug her.

Kristen laughed as his drink tilted with him and spilled a little on the floor. He didn’t noticed so she figured he didn’t really need to know.

"Who's yo friend?" Lance asked, plopping down on the other side of Kristen and putting his arm across her shoulders.

"Dude, you don’t recognize me?" Kristen asked.

"Whaa?!"

"It's Kristen, dumbass."

"Hooleee Shiitttt." He said, getting close to her, laughing outloud and letting his southern accent drawl out. "What happen' to ya? Ya HOT!"

Kristen cut her eyes to him. She didn’t realize this transformation was such a big deal. Keisha flipped out, Lance flipped out, Rick would flip out. She couldn’t help but wonder what Justin would do. But it all kinda pissed her off. Was she that horrendous in her normal style. She didn’t know what was so bad about it. Yeah so it wasn’t a midriff and cling wrap jeans but she liked it and was comfortable in it. "I always look hot Lance!!!"

"No, not like dis. Damn, has Rack seen ya."

"Nope."

"He's over yonder wit C, go show 'em." He waved his hand in some direction and then let it plop down on the couch like a dead weight. Yes, Lance was very drunk.

Kristen sighed and figured finding Rick would be a good idea. "Kay. Later kids." She pushed herself off the couch, walked over to where Lance waved, almost tripped in her boots during the process, and finally got to the table where a massive group of people were sitting and laughing and drinking.

It took her a minute but finally she pried herself through the wall of people and stood there staring at Rick with a smirk. Not many people noticed her at first. She got a few weird glances, but she didn’t care. She kept staring at Rick, waiting for him to notice her. Finally, his eyes lifted her hers.

She could tell instantly he was a little taken back. He even squinted his eyes. And then suddenly, his eyes popped wide and in a slow loud voice he said, "What tha fuck?"

"Like, oh my GOD Rick, what is up!?" She twirled her hair, rolled her eyes around and opened her mouth a little.

"What happened?" He asked almost painfully. Now everyone was staring at her.

She deadpanned, "Keisha got a hold of me."

"Poor thing." He sighed and looked her up and down, blowing out the smoke from his cigarette very slowly. "You look hot though."

It seemed to register on everyone else's mind that was there from the tour that she was just little old Kristen. "Oh my gods," "Wows," "You look great," and even some "Awes" echoed through her ears. She couldn’t help but feel small and let her cheeks flood with red color. It was like being at a family reunion and having all your great aunts pinch your cheeks.

Her mind started wondering about people's views of her. Was she that ugly before? Was her style that bad? Was she in a desperate need of this makeover?! She scolded herself immediately and made a mental note to look up concert dates to some punk band fast. Too bad Cake's tour had just ended.

Her gray eyes cut to Rick's and she pleaded for some escape. After taking a long drag form his cigarette, he stood up and made his away around to her. His arm went cross her shoulders and she relaxed immediately. "Alright yall, I'm taking this lady around the place. Be back."

Different yelled good-byes were sounded and when Rick reached back to get something she saw a flock of girls that were around, battle for the empty seat that Rick had left; it was of course right beside JC. She felt sorry for the guys. Girls always gawking at them and crowding them. For some reason she thought of Justin and wondered where he was.

"Here. You look like you could use this." He handed her a shot of clear liquid. She gulped it down and coughed: vodka. She wasn’t sure if that was good or not. Vodka got her drunk quicker than anything else it seemed, but it didn’t go well with her stomach.

"Thanks." She set the empty glass on the ledge of the railing, probably not the smartest things to do, but she didn’t care. "Where we goin'?"

"To the bar, gonna loosen' you up a little."

A sarcastic laugh escaped her mouth. "Thanks. Do I look that uncomfortable?"

"Yes, but only because I know ya that well." He nudged her with a sly smile.

They walked out of the VIP area and towards the bar, passing the dance floor on the way. Kristen couldn’t help but look out in the crowd for Justin. She wanted to pitch a fit for her actions. She was being a 12-year-old in love with the high school football star. It wasn’t cool at all. And it totally wasn’t like her.

She sighed, turned away from the dance floor and walked behind Rick but soon she heard a familiar voice.

"Dude, where's lil Kissy?" She stopped, smiled and watched his gaze float down to her. He smiled genuinely and then licked his lips, visibly checking her out. "Well, hey there."

"Hey!" She said excitedly. Obviously he was excited about her transformation. He kept looking at her, staring, not moving his glance at all. She smiled back at him but moved her eyes nervously over to Rick.

"Hey bro, lemme take dis nice lady fer adance." He said with a little slur.

"Sure, I'll have your drink with me back over there." He nodded to the VIP section and smiled at her, turning and leaving her alone with Justin.

"So what's your name?" He said in a cheesy pick up line tone, winking at her.

"Oh pulease, Justin."

"Oh pulease? That's a goooood name." He laughed a bit and his hand slid down her back to the very lowest portion of it. If she weren't so fuckin' enamored with him she would have punched him. But she, of course, had to have a little crush, so instead of feeling violated she felt excited and special.

But then her nervousness came on full force when she realized she would have to dance with him. She didn’t know how to dance to hip-hop-pop-techno remixes. He was going to show her up and make her look like a fool. All she wanted to do was impress him for some weird reason, and she wasn't gonna do that by dancing.

He pulled her into him and started grinding his hips with hers. She really didn’t know what to do so just moved her body with his, grinding back into him. She had never dirty danced with a guy before, and didn’t really know how, or how far she was to go, or anything. He took her arms and wrapped them around his neck and started mouthing the words to the song that was being played. She had never heard it.

"God girl, you are so fuckin' hot." He said loudly, leaning forward so she could hear over the insanely loud music.

"R-really?" She stuttered. He thought she looked good. Her heart fluttered.

"Hell yes, after this dance you're coming with me." He growled and changed his dance pattern. One of his knees bent in-between hers and he started grinding into her left hip. His hands seared into her back and she didn’t know what to make of all this intimate dancing.

The female part of her started to go into overdrive. A tingle started to tickle her deep in her stomach and soon, she was staring at his lips, so close to hers, just praying, wishing, that maybe he'd kiss her. Her hopes were so high at this point she wasn’t thinking clearly at all. The thoughts of him being a flirt weren't anywhere near her. The thought of this just being a dance had vanished. There was no one else around but him, they were the only ones there in her mind. He looked too good to be true, felt that way, and she couldn’t grasp that concept at all. She was in a fantasy world where they were together and he was madly in love with her and they were having the best time of their lives.

She was gone, straight off the deep end.

It was more than a crush.

She would have rode it off as just being obsessive, of some strange voodoo power he had over girls, like she had every other occurrence she had had with him. But not this time.

He wouldn’t be dancing with her if he hadn't liked her, he wouldn’t have invited her here if he didn’t like her, and he wouldn’t have started spending time with her and given up his bed to her and flirted with her and talked to her. He liked her back.

She just knew he did. He was proving it right then.

"Come on." He said, his hot breath tickling her ear.

His hand grasped hers and she followed him obediently. She reveled at the feel and size of his hands. Mush was what she had become. Total mush.

If she wasn’t brainwashed she would have been very disappointed in herself.

Soon she found herself, plopped on the couch she started out on with Lance and Keisha, being practically sat on top of by him. Justin was close to her, arm around her shoulders, whispering stuff, half of which she didn’t understand. When his hand was placed on her thigh she gasped and he chuckled deeply growling some provocative phrase about him not biting.

His lips grazed over her ear.

Goosebumps arose on her skin partly because it felt good and was a very light touch, but mostly because it conferred the fact that he liked her back.

And then her fantasy was elevated. It was a fairy tale, she was sure of it.

He kissed her cheek and then whispered huskily, "May I kiss you?"

She gulped and turned to face him. He was so close to her, his lips moist and parted, his eyes heavy and lustily looking at her mouth. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip that still tasted like that horrible lip stick.

But she didn’t care about the damn lipstick. She took in a heavy breath and nodded slowly.

With a second passed his lips came in contact with hers and her whole body relaxed into the couch. His hand that had been on her thigh held her neck and jaw still so she wouldn’t move. His lips did things she didn’t think possible, and then he pulled back a little. She moved with him afraid of what the end of the kiss would mean. But he wasn’t ready to stop. His tongue surged forward and she moaned against his mouth. Now it was her turn to grip a hold of his thigh.

She needed some stability. Her mind was dizzy and she was getting woozy from his kiss. She was sure one shot of vodka hadn't had that much affect on her.

It was all Justin.

He pulled away slowly, smiling to himself and licking his lips afterward. He cleared his throat a little and she finally opened her eyes. "So tell me what your name is?"

She giggled a little. "You're so silly Justin."

"No really." He smiled, playing with her hair, his other hand back on her thigh.

She rolled her eyes and smiled, seeing her lipstick color a little on his lips. "Uh, Katie?"

He began touching her neck a little. "Katie, eh?"

It tickled and she bent her head to her shoulder to get him to stop. It was a shy gesture that she was totally not in control of. She wasn’t in control of any body movements that night. "Remember, you call me KT, I call you JT. It's how we work."

"W- wait. What?"

She looked at him and he was giving her a blank look. Mouth open a little, eyes staring hard. "Who would have thought me and you, eh?" She laughed and looked down in her lap shyly.

After a moment his voice cracked and yelled out over the music. "Kr-kr-KRISTEN!?"

She looked up at him strangely. "What?"

"I…" He started and then took both his hands and rubbed his face in them.

She stared at him long, trying to figure out what was going on.

And then, right then, when his hands dropped to his lap and he slouched down on the couch, closing his eyes, she was met with harsh, cold reality.

Her fantasy fairy tale was ripped away and the wind was knocked out of her with one short statement.

He sighed and said in low voice, "I didn’t know it was you."