'Badass, Lex, you are badass,' he told himself. He smiled a little. Only been in it a couple months, and already people were starting to talk. Looking at the mirror, he starred at the snow white face accented by the jet black hair, with more eye makeup than a 12 year-old school girl. The face peering back curled into a smile as black lipstick stretched across the lips. Lex was truly dark now, with each piece meticulously planted to accent that fact alone. 'Leave me be, or I will fuck you up.' This was his escape, his much needed change of pace from the mainstream. Oh, how he hated mainstream. Under all that make up, black leather clothes and spiked Mohawk, he practically was the mainstream, once.

'Alex! You've been in there an hour! You're such a girl!'� She screamed as she pounded on the bathroom door. The dance was in an hour, and she still had to shower. The door opened, and out came Alex, in full 'look at me, I'm a freak!'� apparel. Her jaw nearly hit the floor. Of course, this wasn't the first time she'd seen him like this, her reaction was always the same. They'd used to be so close once, models both in pictures and in school. They used to shop at the same stores, critique outfits, and hang out with the same friends. That was high school. A couple months ago, Alex started college, with this being the only visible result. In fact, the only thing that slightly resembled Alex in her mind was that he was still an accomplished musician, though even that was tainted. 'Still living for gothic rock?'� she asked, arms crossed.

'No other kind.'� He said without emotion. As he started to walk by her, she confronted him.

'What's gotten into you lately? Are you so bored with yourself you freak out?'�

'Freak out, huh? Sorry I stopped playing Ken for the Barbie world.'� He tried to get by her, but she stopped him again.

'Forget the plastic analogy, you decided to stop being a musician? What you play isn't music, its grown men screaming and moaning, all the time. You used to be creative. You used make great music. You used to be my brother--.'� She cut herself short, surprised by her sudden emotion. She looked up at him, stunned. He hadn't even flinched.

'Can it, Ally. I am who I am. Your sob stories aren't changing that. I used to be congenial, now I'm fresh. I used to be cookie-cut, now I'm unique. The perfect artist.'� He shoved past her to walk down the stairs to the door, all the while remaining emotionless.

Walking into the bathroom, Ally was stunned. As she looked into the mirror, she smiled at the face starring back at her. Bright blue eyes, long sandy blonde hair, and a great smile. These were what Ally liked about herself. She'd been called gorgeous, but she knew most of that wasn't because of her looks, though she considered herself easy on the eyes, but because of her confidence. She liked her for her, and it didn't depend on anyone else. Alex was like that, once. She thought on this for a second, before she grabbed a jacket and left. Suddenly, dancing had left the agenda, as she headed after the man shrouded in black.

Lex walked into the warehouse downtown where all the other individuals like him came to discuss new ideas, listen to new music, or just shoot the breeze. After nodding heads at a few people, he jumped on stage and grabbed his axe. 'This is too easy,' he thought as he strummed a simple chord. Instantly, a huge blast of distortion shot from the speakers to his left and right. The crowd cheered. In response, three other band members appeared. Lex grinned, 'Showtime.'

Ally crept slowly into the warehouse, stopping only long enough to get a feel for her surroundings. 'Score one for cliché.' The thought made her want to laugh. The building was barely lit, with candles being the only source of light. Fake spiders in their webs were placed everywhere, with cotton cobwebs that were hung from the ceiling. The effort was almost ridiculous. Then, she found who she was looking for. The music was disappointingly the same; all scream, all the time, and Alex had gotten pretty good at it. Unfortunately the question she wanted answered wasn't where he was or what he was doing, otherwise she could have bolted from the 'Nightmare on Elm St.'� replica. She wanted the root.

Lex scanned the crowd, enjoying the energy they gave off. He screamed into the microphone words that were incoherent to anyone listening, but that wasn't the point. He'd spend time and energy into those lyrics. The point was that it was meaningless. The crowd loved meaningless. 'Meaningless gets the standing ovation.'

Why? Why the senseless screaming? Why change his entire persona for this crowd? She looked around the crowd. 'There must be a snag, something that's enticing him to-' she saw a banner on the far wall. 'A record deal?' Something inside Ally snapped, and she started running towards the stage. She was not going to let her brother keep going.

Suddenly, all the attention Lex was getting shifted. A fight on the floor? No, a circle would have formed by now. The crowd still stared at the stage, just not at him. He followed their gaze to the source of the disturbance, and became nauseous.

Ally grabbed a microphone and looked directly at her brother. 'You're a fake'� she shouted with as much conviction as she could muster 'a complete liar. You tried so hard to run from the sellouts that you didn't catch yourself become one.'�

Lex stood in awe, then in disbelief, then in anger. 'Excuse me, princess, you look a little lost, Hollister is that way.'� He pointed at the door.

Ally didn't move. 'Who do you think you are, Alex? Some gothic kid who wants to cut himself anytime he feels happy? Have you risen beyond the music you used to play? Does it make you feel good to have a following that doesn't give a shit about what you have to say through your lyrics, just that your sound conforms to what they want?'�

'Who gave you the right to come down here and screw with this?'�

'You did. When you stopped being the artist who strived to touch people and connect with them through your music and lyrics. When you became the sellout who stripped away everything that he was, becoming something entirely new and foreign for a record deal and mass screaming fans, you gave me the right.'� She stopped, took a deep breath, and let out a sigh. She couldn't have stopped it, even if she had wanted to; it was an explosion of emotion and love. She loved her brother.

Alex was silent. The veil that had covered his eyes had just been ripped away, and he saw. Looking out into the crowd, he couldn't distinguish one person from the next, not that he ever could. It was just a different mainstream, and he had failed to break away. He looked around for something, anything that could save him, and he found it. This was basic tool of his trade; his first instrument, the piano. This was to be his salvation.

Ally stood and watched as her brother walked over to the piano, sat, and rested for a moment, before starting to play. She walked over, and set the microphone so he could sing into it, and he did. His voice was enchanting, like an angel fallen to earth, and a haunting melody that enveloped any who heard it. He sang the lyrics the way they were meant; for people to hear. When Alex finished, the crowd roared their applause as Ally wiped her eyes. Alex and his music, were back.

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