"What If?" Fairy Tales

By Charlie Wood

What if "Cinderella" took place in 1986?

What if Peter Pan visited a girl in modern-day New York?

What if Snow White had super powers?

Includes 3 books:

Totally Cinderella
Every day of Cinderella's life is the same: clean the house, cook the meals for her stepmother, and try to survive high school with her stepsisters: bubblegum-pop-princess Tiffany and moody, hard-partying Danielle.

However, when Cinderella meets a mysterious stranger from another land, she learns that maybe all her life needs is a little bit of magic...

Peter and Emily
Grounded at home on a Friday night, Emily Beckett is shocked to find a boy on the balcony outside her room. He tells her his name is Peter Pan, and he's there for one reason: he's looking for someone to have an adventure with.

And with that, Emily is off, whisked to the world of Never Land, a place filled with sailing ships, tropical islands, pirates, and flying machines.

However, Emily soon discovers Peter hasn't brought her there only to experience Never Land's wonders. His friends have been capture, and Peter believes—without a shadow of a doubt—that Emily is the only one who can help get them back.

Snow White and the Power of Light
When 18-year-old Snow White moves into the kingdom of Elsentree, she finds herself a target of the Queen. After all, the Queen has forbidden all magic from Elsentree, and Snow White has the most amazing power of them all: the ability to make the images in a painting move and come alive, as if they are a window into another time...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Charlie Wood
• Release date: Nov 24, 2021

Charlie Wood

Charlie Wood lives with his wife, Kate, in Massachusetts. He enjoys movies, baseball, and comic books. This is his first novel.

Book preview

What If? Fairy Tales

Totally Cinderella

Peter and Emily

Snow White and the Power of Light

Charlie Wood

Copyright © 2020 Charlie Wood

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photography, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent from the publisher and author, except in the instance of quotes for reviews. No part of this book may be uploaded without the permission of the publisher and author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is originally published.

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

Totally Cinderella inspired by the classic fairy tale Cinderella by Charles Perrault.

Peter and Emily based on characters from Peter and Wendy by J.M. Barrie.

Snow White and the Power of Light based on the fairy tale Snow White by The Brothers Grimm.

To contact the author:

[e-mail]

www.charliewood24.blogspot.com

Totally Cinderella

Chapter One

May 19th, 1986

Paramus, New Jersey

Cinderella had an important decision to make.

The Ramones? David Bowie? Blondie?

As usual, she went with Bowie, and as the opening chords of Let’s Dance played in her headphones, she got to work: first, she picked up the laundry from her bedroom, swept the upstairs hallway, and dusted the windowsills. Next, she moved onto the bathroom, which was the most important job of all: she had to ensure it was spotless, with every shampoo bottle in the perfect place, before her stepmother used it later that day. Finally, when that task was finished, she moved onto her stepsisters’ rooms, to add their laundry to hers. First up was the younger of the sisters, Tiffany, who—like Cinderella—was 17.

Tiff? Cinderella said, knocking on the door. Are you up?

Of course, Cinderella knew she was awake; she could hear the loud, booming beat of I’m Your Man by Wham! playing through her TV. But, that was the iron-clad rule: always knock before entering.

Tiff? Cinderella said again. I’m just here for the laundry.

Pushing the door open a crack, Cinderella looked inside. As expected, Tiffany was standing in front of her TV, practicing her dance moves to the glaringly loud Wham! video. As she pumped her arms, bopped back and forth like a wind-up toy, and sang along with twenty-two percent of the correct lyrics, Cinderella was able to stop herself from laughing. However, when Tiffany doubled over and began bouncing her butt up in the air as if she was trying to shake something off it, that’s when a snicker escaped Cinderella’s nose.

Hey! Tiffany said, spinning around. She stomped toward the door. I told you never to come in here, Cinderella! Get out!

I just need the laundry, she replied, reaching for the hamper.

Then knock first!

I did—you didn’t answer.

I was busy!

Cinderella looked at the TV. I can see that.

Tiffany grew red. What, are you spying on me now? Are you making fun of me or something?

No, not at all. Cinderella dumped Tiffany’s laundry into her basket. It looked great. Your moves looked great.

Yeah, like I’m gonna listen to you. You probably don’t even know who George Michael is.

Cinderella squinted. Is he, like, a politician or something?

Get out of here, Tiffany said, slamming the door. You’re such an idiot.

Pleased with herself—but also knowing she shouldn’t get so much enjoyment out of riling up Tiffany—Cinderella carried her laundry down the hall and reached the next bedroom, which belonged to her older stepsister, Danielle, who had just turned 21.

Danielle? Cinderella said, knocking. Do you have any laundry you need me to take?

Just like with Tiffany, there was no answer, and as Cinderella stepped inside, she saw what was becoming a more common sight: Danielle, laying on top of her bed, out cold, wearing the same clothes she had worn the night before. Walking across the carpet, Cinderella had to be careful not to bump into any furniture or step on any dirty dishes; compared to Tiffany’s room, with its pink and yellow wallpaper and frilly pillows, Danielle’s room was more like a morgue, with the walls covered in horror movie posters, the ceiling painted black, and thick grey curtains drawn to block out the sun.

Danielle? Cinderella whispered, picking up clothes to add to her basket. Are you up? It’s almost time to go.

Reaching Danielle’s bed, Cinderella looked to her nightstand. There was an empty bottle of Jack Daniels next to the alarm clock, along with four crushed cans of beer.

Danielle? Cinderella said, gently shaking her shoulder. You gotta get up. It’s time for you to get ready.

Danielle rolled over. Her black, choppy hair—cut by herself with a pair of scissors, without the aid of a mirror—was draped over her face, and her thick, black eyeliner was smeared across her cheeks, having never been washed off the night before.

What time is it? she groaned.

Seven. I gotta bring you to work on my way to school. We’re leaving in like half an hour.

Ugh. She rolled over, facing away from Cinderella. Tell my mom I’m not going today.

Really? She’s gonna flip if you—

Just tell her. And turn off the light.

The light’s not on.

Then just get out of here! Danielle threw a pillow at Cinderella before grabbing another, jamming it over her face.

Okay, fine. Cinderella stepped back. I’ll leave some oatmeal for you in the microwave, if you want.

Whatever. Don’t talk about food. Don’t talk about anything. In fact, pretend like I don’t exist.

Okay. Cinderella walked into the hall and shut the door. Whatever you say.

Moments later, after starting the washing machine and emptying the dryer, Cinderella stood at the kitchen stove, preparing her family’s breakfast. Behind her, sitting at the table and listening to the morning news on a small, black-and-white TV, was her stepmother, Barbara. She was a tall, skinny woman in her late forties, with a wrinkled, sun-damaged face that made her look older than she was, and hair that was always dyed black to cover her grays. At this time of the day, without her makeup, the bags under her eyes were noticeable—heavy and puffy—and her body was draped in a pink, loose-fitting bathrobe. The only people who ever saw her like this were her daughters and stepdaughter, and Cinderella always wondered what the people in Barbara’s social circle would think if they ever saw what she really looked like, before the hours of makeup, hairstyling, expensive clothes, and jewelry. Cinderella had seen pictures of her stepmother from years ago—when she was in her twenties and a local beauty pageant queen—but those days were long gone. It was clear the life Barbara had always imagined for herself had never materialized, leaving behind a woman with broken dreams and a broken soul. She was a woman to be pitied, if she wasn’t so nasty.

Cinderella, she said, her press-on nails scratching the neck of her beloved pet, a tan-furred ferret named Mumsey. Make sure you vacuum and wash my car when you get home. I want it shining like new before I give the mayor a ride to his fundraiser tomorrow.

Okay, I’ll bring it to Benny’s dad’s place to get that dent out of the hood, too, if you want. I think he has an opening at the shop.

Yes, that’s fine. Just don’t let him charge me an arm and a leg.

I won’t. He’ll do it for free, I’m sure, I don’t think it’ll be a big job.

Whatever, just get it done. She turned to Cinderella. By the way, is that what you’re wearing to school today?

Cinderella looked down. She was wearing a brown, vintage, Aerosmith t-shirt, from when the band toured North America in 1974. Since it was twelve years old, it was a little worn, with the neck stretched out and a couple small holes in the sleeves.

Yeah, why?

Because you just wore it three days ago. And it looks like beggar’s clothes.

Cinderella shrugged. I like it.

Of course she likes it, Tiffany said, walking into the kitchen. She was dressed for school, with her pink jacket, neon-green hoop earrings, and her bangs sticking straight up, thanks to a can of hairspray. That was her dad’s old shirt—that’s why she’s obsessed with it. Even though it’s disgusting.

Oh, Barbara said, looking over the shirt. She returned to her cup of coffee. Right. He always did have terrible taste in music.

Yeah, Tiffany said, rolling her eyes. Who the hell even listens to Aerosmith anymore?

I do, Cinderella shrugged, flipping over the omelet in her frying pan.

Yeah, you and all the burnouts in my class. Those are like literally the only people.

Listen to whatever you want, Barbara said, but if you wear that tonight, stay away from us.

Why, what’s tonight? Cinderella asked.

You don’t know? Tiffany slung her pocketbook over her shoulder. Boy, you really are stupid.

We’re going to the mall tonight, Barbara replied. For the Chris Toby autograph signing. I told you this yesterday.

Cinderella knew she hadn’t told her this yesterday, but she knew better than to argue.

She doesn’t know who George Micheal is, Tiffany said, I doubt she knows who Chris Toby is.

No, I don’t, Cinderella said. Who’s Chris Toby?

Tiffany rolled her eyes. He’s only number one on every radio station in the country right now. He’s only got the biggest video on MTV. He’s only the hottest new act since Bruce Springsteen. She shook her head. "You are just so pathetic."

He’s doing a signing at the Westgate Mall tonight, Barbara said. We’re all gonna go, and have dinner afterward at Vesuvio’s, so I need you to drive.

We’re all going? Cinderella asked. Even Danielle? She slid the omelet onto Barbara’s plate. That doesn’t sound like something Danielle would be into.

I don’t care if she’s into it, Barbara said, she’s going. And she’s gonna wash all that makeup off her face, too, and actually comb her hair for once. I’m not gonna let my daughters look like they just crawled out of a ditch when they meet a real-life pop star. She took a bite of her omelet. It’s a shame, too. Danielle used to be so pretty.

Chapter Two

Half an hour later, after dropping off a very hungover Danielle at her job at the local supermarket, Cinderella stepped into her first period chemistry class and sat next to her best friend, Benny Hughes. Benny was her age, but at five foot, two inches tall, he was at least six inches shorter, with freckles underneath his eyes and a head of brown hair, trimmed short. Quiet and shy, he didn’t have many friends, which made him and Cinderella a perfect match.

Look at you, Cinderella said with a grin. Is that eyeliner?

Maybe, he laughed. But don’t tell my mom.

Ever since Cinderella and Benny had become best friends, back in junior high, he had always dressed very conservatively, as his parents wanted. However, recently he had begun to branch out and express himself more, like his idol, Boy George. While he hadn’t gone all out, with lipstick and earrings, he was pushing the envelope a bit with his eyeliner and fedora, especially for Paramus. He had, of course, had to deal with a lot more name-calling and teasing than usual, but Cinderella had also noticed he seemed happier and more confident than he had in a long time.

Did you hear about Mr. Morris today? Benny asked. Him and Miss Keaton were sitting together at the picnic table behind the school this morning.

What? No way.

Yeah, I guess real early, before most people got here. When Alex Seaver saw them, they were holding hands, and they jumped up all nervous, acting all weird.

Oh my god, that’s hilarious.

I know, and look at Mr. Morris when you get a chance—he’s all dressed up in the new polo shirt I saw him buying at the mall the other day.

Cinderella laughed. Hey, speaking of the mall, are you working tonight?

Yup. Slinging Orange Julius till seven P.M.

Oh, good. We’re all going out tonight on a big family outing, apparently, so I’ll stop by and see you if I can.

"Wait—you’re all going? Meaning, including you? Is your stepmom actually gonna let you leave the house for once?"

Cinderella laughed. Yeah, I guess so. But only because she needs a designated driver. We’re going out to dinner, so you know she’ll need her, quote-unquote, one glass of wine.

Are you going to dinner at the mall?

Yeah, and before that, we’re going to some autograph signing or something? Someone named Chris Toby, I don’t know.

Are you serious? Benny stared at her. Cindy, you don’t know who Chris Toby is?

No. Am I supposed to?

Yes, you are. He threw his hands up. You see, this is why we have no friends, because of things like this.

Cinderella laughed. Oh, this is why?

Yes, that’s what I’m going with, so I can feel better and take less of the blame. He leaned forward. "Cindy, he’s like the biggest singer in the world right now, the biggest thing ever. You actually got tickets to his signing? I requested to work my shift tonight specifically for this reason, just so I could tell people I was nearby when he was there. How’d you get tickets?"

Cinderella shrugged. Who knows, Barbara got them somehow. I’m sure she knows somebody who knows somebody, who then blackmailed somebody else. Tiffany wanted them, so she found a way to get them, of course.

Ugh. I was forgetting Tiffany’s gonna be there. Is this gonna be like when the local weatherman’s son was at your stepmom’s country club, and she was pimping out her daughters to him?

Cinderella laughed. Stop it.

What? I was there, Cindy, I saw it. I’m still disturbed by it. That woman is deranged.

She’s not deranged, she’s just—

Completely psychotic? Don’t you even dare defend her, not with the way she treats you. I’m not in the mood to hear that right now—this fedora is really tight and it’s making me really irritable, and I—

Cinderella? the students’ teacher, Mr. Hastings, said from the front of the room. Would you and Benny like to share anything with the rest of the class, or can I begin my lesson?

No, go ahead, Mr. Hastings, Cinderella said. Sorry.

As Mr. Hastings began explaining to the class the intricacies of the bonding process of hydrogen, Benny passed something to Cinderella—a note, with something folded inside.

I’ll see you tonight, the front of the note said. But in the meantime, listen to this. She opened the note, and a cassette tape fell onto her desk. Get to know Chris Toby and modern music, for crying out loud, the rest of the note read. It will change your life.

Chapter Three

Ugh, why do we even have to wait in line? Tiffany whined, crossing her arms. "We paid the most money for our tickets, so we shouldn’t have to wait with all these people."

Cinderella looked ahead. She, her stepmother, and stepsisters were in a long, winding line in the Westgate Mall food court, leading to a temporary stage in front of the Burger King. The four of them had just watched a mini-concert of three songs from Chris Toby—giving Cinderella first-hand experience of the pop star’s music—and were now waiting for the chance to meet him.

I don’t think it’ll be too much longer, Cinderella said. It’s almost our turn, we’re near the front.

"It’s taking forever, Tiffany said, stomping her foot. Mom, isn’t there something you can do? By the time we get up there, he’s gonna be sick of having to talk with all of these idiots."

You just be patient, Barbara said. And look happy. He’s not gonna wanna meet you at all if you have that sour puss on your face. Look, you’re getting those lines in your forehead you get when you’re whining. She turned to Danielle, waving a hand in her face. How about you, Danielle? Are you awake over there?

Yes, I’m awake, she replied, her eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. I’m just tired of listening to you two bicker all night.

Barbara took off Danielle’s sunglasses, pushing her bangs away from her face. Did you wipe all that makeup off like I told you? Oh, good, you look halfway normal for once. But what are these?

She pointed to the spiky metal bracelets on Danielle’s wrist.

I got these from Ray, Danielle said. At work today.

Well, take them off. Chris Toby wants to meet a nice, friendly girl, not a junkyard dog.

Geez, Mom, Danielle said, putting her hands behind her back. They’re just bracelets.

Whatever they are, wear them when you’re at home, not here.

Oh, look, Cinderella said, waving across the food court. There’s Benny, at the Orange Julius. Do you mind if I go say hi?

I don’t care what you do, Barbara said, as long as you’re back here when it’s time to drive us home. Wait over there where you can see us.

I will. And I’ll come back when you guys are done with the meet-and-greet.

You’re not even gonna meet him? Tiffany said. After waiting all this time?

No, I’m—

Don’t worry about her, Barbara said. If she’s over there, it’ll give you more face-time with Chris. She reached into her pocketbook. Now, eat these mints and get ready to laugh at whatever he says.

"What are you doing? Benny asked, as Cinderella walked over to the Orange Julius stand. You’re, like, next in line!"

Yeah, I know, Cinderella said. But I wanted to come over here and say hi.

No, you don’t—you wanna meet Chris Toby! Benny pointed to the stage. So go over there and meet Chris Toby! You know what people would do for one of those meet-and-greet tickets?

I know, but I didn’t even hear his music until like twenty minutes ago.

You didn’t listen to the tape I gave you?

No, I taped over it with AC/DC.

"You did what?"

I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But, I figure this will give someone else more time to meet him, someone that’ll appreciate it more than me.

Yeah, like your stepsisters and—oh my god.

What?

He’s looking over here.

No, he’s not.

Yes, he is. He totally is. He’s looking at you.

Cinderella turned to the stage. In the center of the food court, she could see that her stepsisters and stepmother were now meeting Chris Toby, who was seated at a long table. Earlier in the night, she had seen the pop star on-stage, but at this distance, she could see him more clearly: he was around 17 years old, with light brown hair he wore somewhat long, like Rob Lowe. He had a dangly, golden earring in the shape of a spiral hanging from one of his ears, and his eyes were light blue. He was still dressed in the same outfit he had worn on-stage—a denim jacket, a red shirt, and ripped blue jeans—and, like Benny had said, it appeared that even though he was currently meeting Tiffany and Barbara, he wasn’t paying much attention and was instead looking over toward the Orange Julius—and toward Cinderella.

I don’t think he’s looking over here, Cinderella said. She narrowed her eyes. …is he?

Yes, he is, Benny replied. And I’m two seconds away from freaking out and vomiting all over my Orange Julius uniform.

You always take things to a really weird level.

I can’t help it. When I’m this close to someone famous, I lose all control.

Meanwhile, in the center of the food court, Chris Toby was, in fact, glancing over toward the blonde girl in the Aerosmith t-shirt near the Orange Julius stand, making it difficult for him to pay attention to the motormouth praise from Tiffany.

I got your record the day it came out, Tiffany said, smiling wide like her mother had told her. And I’ve listened to it over and over again. My favorite song is ‘Girl From the Sky,’ but I also like ‘Daybreak,’ and ‘Always Return’ is probably my second favorite.

Oh, Chris said, turning to her. He signed the poster she handed to him. Oh, yeah, I love ‘Daybreak,’ too. That one took a long time to record. We had to get it exactly right, because I kept thinking the drums were—

Oh, isn’t that fascinating, Barbara said, pushing Tiffany closer to Chris. You know, Tiffany here loves to play the drums.

I do? Tiffany said, before shaking her head. I mean, of course I do.

Both of my girls are very musically inclined; in addition to the drums, Tiffany also plays many other instruments, and sings too, just like Danielle. Right, Danielle?

Danielle—who hadn’t been paying attention—turned to her mom. What? Oh, yeah, yeah, we’re very musical and all that. Definitely. She offered her a mom a fake smile before returning to gazing around the food court.

Yes, we’re a very musical family in general, and always looking for a way to showcase our talents. Barbara put her arms around Tiffany and Danielle. If you ever need some backup singers, I know two girls who would be perfect.

Chris laughed, a little uncomfortable. That’s great, I’ll definitely keep that in mind. I’m not sure we need singers for this upcoming tour, but maybe someday. He pointed to the Orange Julius stand. How about her?

Barbara glanced that way. Who?

The girl that was with you in line. Is she musical, too?

Oh, no, Tiffany said. That’s just our stepsister. She’s nothing.

Well, is she a fan of mine like you?

No, Tiffany said, she doesn’t even know who you are. Or your music.

Tiffany, Barbara said. Don’t be silly. Of course Cinderella knows who you are, everybody knows who you are. She’s just shy, that’s all. She was very nervous, so I figured I would bring Tiffany and Danielle up here by themselves.

Well, Chris said, if she waited that long in line, she should at least get an autograph or something.

Oh, no, Barbara said. We don’t need to bring her over here. Like Tiffany said, she’s a little odd, so—

That’s okay, I like odd people. That’s an even better reason to meet someone. Let’s call her over.

No, we don’t need to do that. Barbara shook her head. I won’t be doing that.

Okay, then I will. Chris waved toward Cinderella. What did you say her name was again?

At the Orange Julius stand, Benny stared toward the stage. Oh my god.

What? Cinderella asked.

He’s waving you over there.

No, he’s not.

Yes, he is. Look at him. Oh my god, I’m sweating. Benny fanned himself with his hat. I’m sweating so much I’m gonna melt all of our frozen dessert product.

He’s not waving me over there, he must be—

Hey, you! Chris yelled across the food court. The girl in the Aerosmith shirt!

That’s you, Benny said, mouth dropped. You’re the girl in the Aerosmith shirt.

No, I’m not, Cinderella said. Am I? She pointed at herself. Me?

Yes, you. Come over and meet me with your family, if you want.

Do I want? Cinderella asked.

Yes! Benny replied. You want, you want!

Before Cinderella had time to think, one of Chris’ bodyguards—a large bald man in a black t-shirt named Rizzo—walked through the crowd and reached the Orange Julius.

Hi there, he said. It’s Cinderella, right? Chris wanted to know if you’d like to meet him.

Uh…. Cinderella said. Yeah, sure, I guess.

She doesn’t guess, Benny said, pushing her away from the Orange Julius. "She knows."

Okay, Rizzo laughed. Follow me. We’ll get you through the crowd real quick.

Following the bodyguard, Cinderella made her way through the food court and toward the stage. It seemed like everyone in the mall was looking at her, since Chris had made such a scene by calling her over, and before she knew it, she was standing in front of him, along with her stepmom and stepsisters.

Hi, Chris said, holding out his hand. I’m Chris.

Hi, she replied. I’m Cinderella.

I just figured I’d give you the chance to meet me, with the rest of your family, if you wanted to. Chris shook his head, embarrassed. Which I just realized is the most awkward, arrogant thing I’ve ever said.

Cinderella laughed. No, it’s okay. I wanted to meet you, too, I just wanted to…

Say hi to your friend first?

She laughed again. Yeah, exactly. But I was gonna come over and meet you afterwards. She smirked. Maybe.

Rizzo the bodyguard chuckled. Wow, I like this. See, this is good for you, Chris. Knock you down to size a bit.

Well, Barbara said, clapping her hands together. We’ve all had our fun here—it’s been great laughing together and all—but Cinderella, why don’t you go back over to the ice cream place, and Chris, you can keep signing autographs for my daughters?

Yeah, that’s fine, Cinderella said, as Barbara pushed her away. I was just gonna—

Wait, Rizzo said. Does she want an autograph, too?

Yeah, I can sign something before you go, if you want, Chris said. Did you bring anything to sign? He smirked. But then again, you probably didn’t, because your sister says you don’t even know my music.

No, I know your music, Cinderella said. My friend actually gave me a tape of yours today. I just…haven’t had time to listen to it yet.

Chris laughed. Yeah, my music has that effect on some people.

No, it’s not that, Cinderella chuckled. I plan on listening to it, and I heard some of your songs just now in the mini-concert. They were really good.

Chris reached into a box behind the table. Okay, I’ll tell you what—since you clearly don’t have time to listen to your friend’s tape, why don’t you all come to my concert tonight? I’m playing Madison Square Garden. He took four envelopes from the box and handed them to Cinderella. That’ll give you a chance to actually hear more of my music.

Really? Tiffany asked, shocked. Those are tickets, for tonight? That show sold out in like thirty seconds! Mom, can we?

Well, it is a school night, Barbara replied. Then she smiled, taking the tickets from Cinderella. But, of course. Thank you, Chris. What a thoughtful young man. Right, Danielle?

Danielle turned to the group again. What? Oh yeah, great. Thanks.

This is amazing! Tiffany said, grabbing the tickets from her mom. "Wait till I tell Molly, she’s gonna be so jealous!"

Good, Chris said, laughing. That’s what I’m here for. And those are backstage passes, too, so you can all come to the party after the show and say hi to everyone.

Backstage passes? Tiffany shouted, squeezing the tickets so tightly she nearly crumpled them.

Another bodyguard approached the table. Chris, we gotta keep the line moving. The crowd is getting restless.

Oh, okay. Sorry, guys, I gotta talk to the next person. Chris turned to Cinderella. But I’ll see you all tonight, right? Eight o’clock for the show, and then right after for the party. It’s not really like a party—it’s more kind of just, like, hanging out. With weird music industry people.

Cinderella laughed. Yeah, sure, that sounds great.

Yes, Barbara said, we’ll all be there—Tiffany, Danielle, and me. All of us. We’ll see you later tonight.

Great, see you then.

Cinderella and her family turned to walk away, but then Cinderella thought of something.

Thank you so much, she said, walking back to Chris. This is amazing, but can I ask you for one more thing? I don’t want to be a pain, but…do you have any more tickets back there?

Moments later, Cinderella, Tiffany, Danielle, and Barbara walked past the Orange Julius, on their way out of the mall.

Well? Benny said from the counter. What was that all about? Did you actually talk to him?

Cinderella stepped toward the counter. Yes, you could say that, she said, hurrying so her stepmother wouldn’t get mad. I’ll tell you about it later, but in the meantime… She placed an envelope on the counter. Here you go.

What’s this?

I said I’ll tell you later. Cinderella walked away. Make sure you don’t make any plans for after work, okay?

After watching Cinderella travel down the escalator, Benny opened the envelope, confused. Then, looking inside, he screamed louder than he ever had in his life. Every single customer at the Orange Julius—and every customer in the food court—turned and looked at him.

Sorry, he said, but that was completely warranted—you’d know if you saw what I just saw. He wiped the sweat from his brow. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna sit down before I pass out and split my head open on this crate of frozen orange juice.

Chapter Four

Later that night, Cinderella found herself in a surreal spot: watching the Chris Toby concert with her stepsisters, stepmother, and Benny—but not from seats in the crowd. Instead, they were standing off to the side of the stage in the wings of the venue, mere feet from the action. It was a wonderful experience, especially for a music fan like Cinderella: it was incredible to see how a concert like this operated up close, and even more incredible to watch the musicians from this vantage point—how they performed, played their instruments, and interacted with the crowd. And, even though Cinderella hadn’t heard much of Chris’ music beyond the mini-concert at the mall, she was surprised by how much she liked it; it wasn’t phony and manufactured like most pop music these days (even though that’s how she was expecting it to be, to be honest), and Chris was an excellent performer. His act was more rock than pop, with him acting as the showy frontman in front of his excellent band. She could see why he was having so much success, as his charisma and connection with his fans was evident; he was having fun on stage, savoring the moment and completely at ease, even in front of thousands of people.

After Chris’ final song ended—and the crowd died down—Cinderella turned to Benny.

So…what do we do now?

I don’t know. Benny watched Chris walk off the other side of the stage, disappearing through the curtains with his band. Is this it? Do we leave now?

Of course we don’t leave, Barbara replied. We’re Chris’ guests, he personally invited us. I’m sure one of his people will be here shortly, to escort us backstage to be with his friends and the other VIPs.

But we’re not his friends, Benny replied. And I don’t think we’re VIPs. He might not even remember—

Before Benny could finish, someone tapped Cinderella on her shoulder. It was Rizzo, Chris’ bodyguard.

Hi there, everyone. If you’ll follow me, I can lead you to the after-party backstage.

See? Barbara said, turning to Benny with a grin. I told you someone would be here to escort us.

Benny scowled. Man, I hate it when she’s right.

Cinderella laughed as they walked backstage. "Don’t you know that by now, Benny? She’s always right."

Twenty minutes later, Cinderella stood in an even stranger spot than off-stage during the concert: now she and Benny were in Chris’ dressing room, which was currently filled with at least three dozen people, tables full of food, coolers of drinks, and a massive stereo blaring the latest pop hits (mostly Chris’ songs, of course). Looking around the party, Cinderella spotted Rizzo the bodyguard and a few of the musicians in Chris’ band, but other than them, every other face was completely new; there were record executives in fancy suits, impeccably beautiful girls who were ooo-ing! and aaah-ing! over everyone they met, and a bunch of roadies who had worked to set up and break down the stage. While it was certainly exciting to be there, Cinderella also felt completely out of place. As she stood with her back against the wall, holding a cup of grape soda, she had no idea how to act, who to speak to, or if she should even be speaking at all.

Her stepmother, however, was having none of these problems. From the moment she had stepped foot in the party, she had been flitting around the place as if she was the host, bringing her two daughters with her and introducing them to anyone who would make eye contact. Tiffany loved all the attention, while Danielle looked almost as uncomfortable as Cinderella.

Do you even see Chris? Benny asked. I don’t see him anywhere.

No, I don’t, Cinderella replied. I thought maybe he walked by a little while ago, but then he disappeared into that sea of people in fancy suits.

It’s probably better if he’s not here, to be honest. If I get any closer to someone that famous, I might have some kind of reaction.

What kind of reaction?

I don’t know. Hives. Shivers. Light-headedness. Big Uncle D.

Big Uncle D?

Yeah, you know what I mean.

No, I really don’t.

That’s a word I’m inventing so people can say that instead of you-know-what.

That’s the problem, I don’t know what.

You know. Diarrhea.

Cinderella laughed. You think you can just say ‘Big Uncle D’ and people will automatically know what that means?

Yeah, if it catches on. No one wants to say diarrhea. So, now, instead, you can say ‘Big Uncle D.’ Like, if you have to call out sick from work, you don’t have to tell your manager you have diarrhea, because diarrhea is like the worst word.

What are you guys talking about, exactly? someone said behind Cinderella.

She turned around. Chris stood there, holding a can of soda.

Oh my god, Benny said. It’s you. It’s really you. And you probably just heard me say ‘diarrhea’ like a hundred times.

Chris laughed. A couple times, yeah. I wasn’t sure if that’s what you were saying, but now I have confirmation.

Cinderella shook her head, laughing. Don’t mind him, he’s just a little nervous to be here. This is my friend, Benny.

Chris held out his hand. Oh right, Benny. The guy from Orange Julius.

You know where I work? Benny asked.

Yeah, I saw you there earlier tonight, at the autograph signing. I’m so glad you guys could make it.

I can’t believe you know where I work, Benny said, still shaking Chris’ hand. What else do you know about me?

That’s it. That’s literally it. Chris looked down at his hand. Can I have my hand back now?

Oh, of course, Benny said, letting go, as Cinderella and Chris laughed. Sorry, we’re just new to this kind of thing.

Yeah, Cinderella said. This is pretty overwhelming. First the concert, and now this. It’s like we’re in a whole other world.

Well, it’s not all that great, really, Chris said. I mean, it is sometimes, but most of the time, it can be a bit much. I don’t know, like, half the people here.

Really? Cinderella asked.

Yeah. Most of them were invited by the record label and stuff. Only a few people were invited by me. Like you guys.

I wasn’t even sure if you were here, Cinderella said. I didn’t see you for a while.

Oh, yeah, I kind of went into hiding. Right when I got back here, I was cornered by someone for about ten minutes.

Who?

With a smirk, Chris pointed across the room. Cinderella saw her stepmom and stepsisters, talking to a record executive.

Oh, no, I’m so sorry. My stepmom can be a bit over the top.

That’s putting it lightly, Benny remarked.

No, it’s fine, Chris laughed. But when your stepmom asked me to listen to Tiffany sing one of my songs for the fifth time, that’s when I had to escape.

Cinderella laughed. I’m just glad you got out with your life.

It was tough, Chris said, but I think I made it. Maybe with a little bit of damage to my ear drums.

Benny pointed across the room. Oh no, they spotted us. They’re coming this way.

Cinderella saw her stepmother, with her eyes fixed on them as she led Tiffany and Danielle straight to Chris.

Oh, great, Cinderella said. This should go well. I apologize for the embarrassment in advance.

No, it’ll be fine, Chris said. You know the lead singer from Wyld Mayhem, the group that opened for me? I slipped him a couple twenties the last time I escaped from Barbara. He’s supposed to run interference—let’s see if it works. He snapped his fingers. Yes, look, there he goes.

As Cinderella watched, the lead singer of Wyld Mayhem stepped out from the crowd and into the path of her stepmother. As he chatted with her excitedly, she tried to look over his shoulder at Chris, but her view was blocked.

There, Chris said. That’ll hold them for a while. You think she’ll be satisfied talking to him instead of me?

Probably, Cinderella said. He’s famous and rich, I assume, so she’ll be fine, at least for a moment.

Great. Chris looked around the room. Since this seems to be working, what do you guys say we get out of here?

What? Cinderella said. What do you mean?

I’m sick of being in this dressing room. I’ve been cooped up in here since like seven this morning—I need to get out before I go nuts. Especially now that it’s filled with like 70 people I don’t even know.

So where are we gonna go? Cinderella laughed.

Chris reached to a table, grabbing a baseball cap and pair of sunglasses. I saw an arcade three blocks away when we were driving in—I’ve had my sights set on that thing all day. He put on his cap and sunglasses. Do you guys wanna come with me? I’ve only got about two minutes before everyone realizes I’m up to something. What do you say?

Cinderella looked to Benny.

When a world-famous pop star asks you to go to an arcade, Benny replied, you say ‘yes.’

Rock star, Chris said.

What?

I’m a rock star, not a pop star. Chris gave one more look around the room, then dashed to a nearby door. You guys ready?

Cinderella glanced back at her stepmother; she was still distracted by the lead singer of Wyld Mayhem. Barbara’s totally gonna kill me, but… She smiled. Yes, let’s go.

Chapter Five

Yes! Benny yelled, as his ball soared into the 500 points slot in the skee-ball machine. I did it! Benny, with the comeback win!

Cinderella clapped. Way to go, Benny. She turned to Chris and smiled. I thought you said you were some kind of skee-ball champion?

Chris shook his head, taking several bills from his wallet. I thought I was, until I met Benny here, apparently the best skee-ball player in New Jersey.

I have a lot of spare time to practice, Benny said, taking the money from Chris. "A lot of spare time."

Cinderella looked around the arcade. I’m surprised no one has recognized you yet, Chris.

You’d be amazed at what a hat and sunglasses can do. Plus, most importantly? He pointed to his ear. No trademark dangly earring. I’m like Superman with that thing—when I take it out, no one recognizes me.

Cinderella looked at his ear. I don’t see a piercing. Is that a…?

Shhh, Chris said. It’s my ultimate secret.

Oh my god, Cinderella laughed. The money I could get from Teen Beat for revealing that Chris Toby wears a clip-on.

Chris looked around. Can we not use my name so loudly? We’re undercover here, remember.

Cinderella chuckled. Oh, right.

At the back of the arcade, Chris spotted a flight of stairs. Hey, look—it says there’s rollerskating and pizza upstairs. I’m starving, how about you guys?

Yeah, Cinderella said, I am, actually. What about you, Benny?

"Nah, I’m gonna stay down here and cash in my dollars for some