Author note: I'm posting a second chapter now for the second day in a row and then taking the weekend off. See you with the next chapter on Monday! :)

I woke up with a feeling of something dark and depressing hanging over my head, even before I remembered the mandatory function that I had to endure that evening. 

Then I remembered and I felt both better and worse.  Better, because my feeling of impending doom had a real and thankfully temporary cause.  Worse,  because for it to be over I would have to actually go and stay  for an undetermined amount of time amongst a sweaty group of known and unknown people, most of whom I probably did not like and all of whom probably already knew of and had opinions about  me.

I buried my head under my pillow.

I lay in bed for a while, contemplating accidentally on purpose having another accident, possibly one that might break my leg. 

Michael would probably not doubt the authenticity of such an event because he thought I was so clumsy I could injure myself in a rubber room. 

The additional benefit was when the torture trainer came, I would be laid up and could put off the inevitable a little longer. 

With my luck, though, that trainer would probably just make me do physiotherapy and Michael would probably make me attend the stupid mandatory party in a wheelchair. 

Mandatory!  Who ever heard of making attendance at a stupid party mandatory?  If people did not want to be appreciated, they should have that option. 

The amount of pain I would have to inflict upon myself for such uncertain results made me reject the idea of that course of action.  It was not worth it.  Probably.

I would just have to hope I was a clumsy as Michael insinuated I was and have a real accidental accident.

The thought reminded me of my finger, which was feeling quite good compared to the previous day.  It was less purple, having faded to a sort of a nasty faded green lingering under my skin.  It was also less swollen, almost back to normal size.  I tested moving it.  It still hurt to do so, but I could clearly see I was healing faster than was strictly normal.

I leaned over and grabbed the book I had been reading before I fell asleep.  I would finish it, then go and find something to eat.

I closed my book and put it on my pile to take back to the library.  I got up, took a quick shower, and then dressed myself in shorts and a t-shirt.  I noticed someone had washed and returned my clothes to their hangers.  I wondered who it was.  I had never seen anyone in my room besides Alex and Michael and I could not see Alex hanging up my clothes.  He probably would if Michael paid him to do so, but even then I doubted Michael would ask him to. 

I shrugged; whoever the ninja was, at least they did not bother me in the process.  It must be someone I had not met yet.  I had never seen anyone cleaning, but the house was spotless so someone must be doing it.  I would probably see them tonight at the stupid party even though I would not know who they were.

I moved through the building and out to the kitchen.  Pierre was there and he was moving around the kitchen faster than his normal rate of movement.

"Hello," I said, alerting him to my presence.

"Hey," he replied in a mumble.  "Here's breakfast."  Pierre pulled a plate out of a warmer, I watched as he poured syrup over a stack of pancakes. He put it on the counter instead of at my customary spot. I thanked him and took the plate with me to my seat and started eating.

Before I was finished, Pierre caught my attention with an indistinct and vague sort of mumble.  When I turned my head to look at him he said, "Heading out."

"See you later," I said.

"Later."  Pierre left.  I finished eating and then went back to my room.  I picked up the pile of books I needed to return and then made my way downstairs into the creepy tunnels to restock my reading selection.

I spent the rest of the morning reading and much of the afternoon as well.  I did not eat lunch, because my stomach grew more uneasy the closer the party came.  I was annoyed at myself for allowing my nervousness to overwhelm  me, but there seemed to be little enough I could do to control it other  than distract myself.  I finally took a shower, but as a form of distraction it failed miserably.  I threw on some new clothing and then went to attempt to read again at the desk.

When an energetic series of knocks finally sounded on my door, my nerves  were so wound up I nearly jumped straight to the ceiling.  My first thought was to pretend I was not there, but I rejected that idea because eventually someone would just unlock the door and find me.  My next thought was I could slip out through the window and get lost in the trees again.  If I was lucky, I might even sprain my ankle or something while I climbed down.

Another round of banging hit my door and I reluctantly went and opened it.

"Dylan!  How are you today?  Are you excited?  Of course you are, everyone is!  It's such a big night!  Best night of the year in my absolutely correct opinion.  Everyone is going to be there and when I'm done with you, you are going to look like such a princess!  What a dream!  Oh, how's your finger doing?" Tara asked even faster than she normally spoke.  She seemed excited to me.  She  was already wearing a dress and looked rather nice, or would if she  would shut her mouth and stopped bouncing around long enough for me to get a proper look.  She had a lot of bags along with her as if she had not already sent enough stuff with Alex.

"Oh, it's getting better," I said unenthusiastically.  Hurray.

"That's good to hear, we don't want anything to ruin tonight for you!  Your finger still is an unfortunate color, isn't it?  Maybe we'll apply some makeup to it so doesn't show as much!  Too bad it's still slightly swollen but there's nothing I can do about that, though!  Are you applying ice regularly?  My father always swore by it, except that he would make us stick frozen peas or whatever veggie was in the freezer at the time on our injuries!  Keeps the swelling down, then you don't end up as thick and blotchy!"

She paused for about a millisecond and continued, "Anyways, let's get to work!  We've got loads to do before you're ready for the party!"  She sang the last few words and I wondered if I had fallen into a musical nightmare.

I  did not know what to comment on first, so I didn't bother commenting at  all. Tara did not notice; she was fluttering around the room,  presumably getting everything ready for my big torture session slash makeover.

"Okay, we'll just use this chair, come and sit down here, Dylan!  Yes, that's it!  Just turn that way, ah, that's perfect!  You  just wait and see how beautiful you look when I'm done, of course you are  beautiful to begin with, but some highlighting never hurts, does it?  There, now, I'm just going to clip this up, and off we go!" 

Tara kept up a steady stream of commentary while she did my hair.  She brushed and pulled and sprayed.  I debated asking her if I could read while she worked, but before I settled on trying to get a word in between hers she was already done my hair.

"Oh, that will be very nice!  Now, let me do your face!" Tara said, and then went rummaging back through her bags.  Soon enough my face was being prodded and prepared and I had to tilt my head this way and that while she applied what felt like an absurdly thick layer of oozing chemicals to my skin.  I could not help but ponder what minerals might leach into my bloodstream during the evening ahead.  Could vampire god whatevers get lead poisoning?

"Do I really need makeup?" I asked without a lot of hope.

"Do you really need makeup?" she repeated, as if I had suggested something preposterous.  "It's one thing to be running around during the day without any makeup if you please, but to go to the New Year's party without would be a disaster!  Why do I even need to explain this to you?  You're a girl; you should have a sense of this sort of thing."

I felt an embarrassed sad feeling at her comment.  I did not bother explaining my odd relationship with my parents.  Besides, I had never had any strong desire to act particularly girly.

Apparently Tara noticed my discomfort and she continued in a lighter voice than was typical for her.  "Nevertheless, this is your home and you should feel comfortable here just as you are.  No one is going to judge you, but you should still look your best!"  Tara's voice went back to normal and she said, "So you still need to wear makeup!  Just wait until you see yourself!  You're going to love the results!  You're looking fantastic!  Now, get your dress on!  I've got some undergarments here for you, get yourself dressed and then we'll unveil the final product!  I'll wait outside the door, so hurry!"  Listening to Tara made my head spin from attempting to unravel her constant contradictions.

She did as she said she would and I did as she told me to, putting on all the clothes she had laid out for me.  The dress was slightly less perplexing than it had been the previous day.  When I was dressed I opened the door to let her back in.

"Oh, this is absolutely perfect!" she squealed when she walked through my door.  "You look absolutely beautiful, absolutely perfect!  Perfect appearance, perfect night!  It is going to be perfect!  Perfect!"

"Yes, perfect."  I agreed, because it seemed she wanted me to.

"Oh,  Dylan, come over and look at yourself!" she squealed again as she quite literally dragged me over to the full length mirror in my bathroom.

I looked at the person reflected back at me.  I generally ignored my hair as it hung straight down my back.  Now, it had been half pulled up and allowed to fall in curls.   My face looked slightly different, too, not gaudy, just nice.  The colors she used brought out the hazel of my eyes.  The dress Tara had picked was beautiful, too.  I did look nice in the black overlaid with gauzy blue.  I looked pretty and very much like a female.

"You're good at this," I told Tara, still feeling oddly shocked.

She positively beamed, "Thank you so much!  I couldn't help feeling like you were a little bit unenthusiastic about the whole party, but I knew in the end you would see for yourself!  And you have!  Oh, we are going to have such a good time, Dylan!"

I still was not sure about that, but I did not argue.  Tara seemed happiest when she was in a world of her own making and who was I to interrupt that?  My stomach growled.  Apparently my nerves were no longer enough to keep my hunger at bay.

"Well, I'm going to go and get something to eat," I told Tara.

"No, no, no, we don't have time for that.  It's almost five and that is the time we are leaving."

"Where are we going anyway?" I wondered, realizing I did not know.

"We're going to the meeting hall, that's where Michael holds his party every year.  It always looks so nice!"

I remembered if from my tour.  I cut her off.  "Isn't it kind of small?"

She looked at me with a half smile, "There is plenty of room."

"Well, how many people are going?" I asked suspiciously.  The erratic thought that it would only be Michael and me at some mandatory ritual party crossed my mind, but I dismissed it immediately as preposterous.  What motive could Michael possibly have for that?  None.  Besides, Tara was already in a dress.

Tara shrugged and then finally responded, "I don't know exactly.  Everyone who is on the island at this time and some of Michael's most loyal employees from the outside world and some other guests and some important people like him, I suppose.  There's always a mix.  But it's always a fun time!"

I was so unlike her usual deluge of information I remained slightly suspicious.  I wondered how many people were on the island.  There  were definitely more than I had seen, like my mysterious laundry ninja who managed to  get laundry in and out of my room without ever being detected.

It sounded like there was supposed to be a large number of people.  When I had looked at the meeting hall, it had seemed rather small.

"Come on, Dylan," Tara urged and she pushed black heels at me and then handed me a purse.

"Why do I need a purse?"

"To carry things."

"But I'm not taking anything," I pointed out quite rationally.

She sighed, as though she were dealing with an intentionally recalcitrant toddler.  "Fine, don't bring the purse, even though it completes your outfit beautifully."

I dutifully picked up the purse.  We headed out of my room.

When we got outside, Alex was waiting, leaning up against a jeep.  He was wearing a shirt and dress pants and he looked pretty good.  I wondered if Tara had indeed picked out his clothes for him.  The thought made me grin. 

I could tell Alex was surprised either by my appearance or my smile, mocking though it may have been. First he glanced at me, then a shocked expression hit his features.  Then he looked again, as if to be sure he was not imagining things, before looking away because he seemed to have noticed I had caught him looking.  I shrugged.

"Alex!" Tara said in a commanding tone, "Make sure that you put those windows up!  We don't need the wind messing up our hair!"

"Okay," he agreed easily.

We all got into the vehicle and Tara forced me to take the front seat.

I put on my seat belt and off we went.

The drive was basically uneventful.  Tara chattered the entire way, leaning her face up against the front seats.  After a couple of minutes driving while listening to Tara speaking, we finally reached the town.  Alex pulled the car off to the side and we all got out.  I walked over to where Alex and Tara stood.  As I walked over, I stepped on a loose stone in the road.

I  put my arm with the uninjured fingers in front of me to break my fall,  but then I felt a pull on one arm, and then on the other.  I stood up straight, and looked at the two behind me.  "Thanks," I said.

"No problem," Alex said.

"I had heard that you were clumsy, but you had better not mess up the job that I did on you!  It took a lot of planning and effort!" Tara complained jovially.

I could not help but wonder where Tara had heard that.  Certainly, I had sprained my finger, but I was not the only one who did things like that.  Perfectly coordinated people did things like that all the time.  Besides, it was not my fault.  I had hardly been clumsy at all before Michael unbalanced me.

"I'm just joking, Dylan," Tara laughed.  "You look so serious!  Tonight is going to be fantastic!  It's going to be the best night of your life, you'll see!  And these nights are always so fun, aren't they, Alex?"

"I wasn't here last year," Alex reminded her.

"Ah, that is true!  Only a bit longer than a month, right?  It just feels like you've been here forever!  I mean that in a good way, of course.  How much longer are you here for?  I thought it was originally a year, but are you planning to stay longer?" Tara asked.  She continued talking all the way into the meeting hall.

Alex opened the door and I looked inside.  There were a few beautifully wrought metal chairs placed around tables and there were leafy potted trees with white lights twinkling in the foliage.   The room was empty of people.  "It's pretty small," I commented, wondering how Michael was planning on fitting all the people into the room.

"You're still on that?" Tara asked.  "You're like a dog with a bone, I swear!  You never let a thing go, you just keep gnawing on it until it disintegrates!  Don't worry so much, just trust everything is taken care of, because it is and you have absolutely nothing to worry about.  This is your home now, Dylan.  You are going to have an absolutely fantastic time.  There really is nothing to worry about."

"Who said I was worried?" I asked, although neither Alex nor Tara heard over whatever she went on to say next.  I followed them across the room, where I noticed a door.

Before we made it to the door, it opened.  Michael walked out.  He was wearing a suit and looked good.  If he just kept his annoying mouth shut, he would be undeniably attractive, I thought with just a bit of nastiness.

Michael clearly saw us.  "Dylan, Tara, Alex, glad you could all make it," Michael said when we got closer to him and the door.  I thought it rather absurd he was thanking us for coming to a mandatory event.  He should thank himself for making it mandatory and bullying everyone into being present.  I scowled.

"I'm just off to meet with some guests who will be arriving shortly.  There's few here yet, but you should make yourselves comfortable, of course."

"Thank you, Mister Thompson," Alex said as he made his way with Tara towards the door.

"You look good, little girl," Michael told me.

"As do you, old geezer," I replied sarcastically.  Over Michael's shoulder I could see Tara had turned around and her mouth was hanging open.  Clearly we were not sticking to her fairy tale script for the evening.  I ignored her reaction; I would say what I liked to Michael.

Michael laughed.  "Why thank you."

"You're welcome."

"While I am gone, Tara will introduce you to anyone you wish to meet," Michael suggested.  "I'll be back shortly."

"Thanks," I said for lack of anything better to say.  I doubted there was anyone in the category.  I hurried after my two companions.

"Be careful on the stairs in those heels, Dylan!" Michael called from behind me.  "We don't need you breaking your neck tonight.  It would put a damper on the party!"  I did not give him the satisfaction of looking back and letting him know I had heard him.