Reality TV's Negative Affect on Our Society Research Paper

Reality TV's Negative Affect on Our Society - Research Paper Example In some instances, it may make the viewer or the audiences revel at such negative attributes and vices such as pain, sex, and injuries to the cast, which in real sense the viewer should not. The end-result is the cast is rewarded for poor personal, societal or professional judgment. Since the advent of reality TV programming, critics have rightly described as a genre that is sensational and focusing on an emphasis on the negative aspects of the society. Hill (7) states that such articles such as ‘Ragbag of Cheap Thrills’, ‘TV’s Theatre of Cruelty’ or ‘Danger: Reality TV can Rot Your Brain’ describe how there is a negative connotation associated with reality TV. Further Nick Clarke argues in The Shadow of a Nation that reality TV has led to the erosion of the values hitherto held by the society as well as distracting the ideals of a modern society. For example scenes of addiction to drugs and war in reality television programs have the pot ential effect of eroding the culture held by the society as well as its moral values (Hill 7). Other programs such as Real Housewives of Atlanta  and Basketball Wives  that show violent confrontations between women tend to make young ladies copy them with the thoughts that such behavior is desirable. In the analysis of the reality TV program ‘Extreme Makeover’, the negative aspect of the society is portrayed as the show suggests that the American society is constantly in trouble to find or live in a decent home showing how a contemporaneous socio-political tension or situation. The crisis that the cast in the program face is at times used to hoodwink the electorate who vote in leaders who can promise better housing... This "Reality TV Negative Effects to Society" essay demonstrates how such shows as "Extreme Makeover" or "16 and pregnant" shapes our worldview. Reality television shows have constantly portrayed a distasteful and dysfunctional behavior in the form of entertainment and people get easily manipulated and end up applying the same behavior in the society. The negative influence of reality television programs is that they allow a person or the viewer to follow what has been determined for him by someone else as reality. The producers of reality TV programs also fail to consider ethics when producing these programs, as they tend to exploit the misfortune of others such as divorce and teenage pregnancy all in the name of entertainment. From the foregoing argument, research has proven that reality television programs just warp the viewer’s perception of reality and their belief. This is the reason for example why viewers or members of the society who view the world as filled with dram a and relational strife are addicted to reality programs, for example the regular viewers of drama on crime are likely to engage in crime. In addition, the society has been affected in a major way and in a negative way by the reality programs as members of the society do not wish to learn how to accomplish a rigorous or desirable feat but demand to achieve it through controversy and idiocy. The end result is a society built on negative values and morals that greatly affect the productivity and meaningful co-existence.

Native Guard Poems By Natasha Trethewey Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1250 words

Native Guard Poems By Natasha Trethewey - Essay Example The poem profoundly conveys her heart for the blacks in rich voice texture and images of truths concerning the battles not only against slavery for the fellow blacks but even with the unsettled issue of freedom that appears detached from the desired racial equality. â€Å"Native Guard† begins with an epigraph attributed to the 19th century social reformer and statesman Frederick Douglass stating â€Å"... if this war is to be forgotten, I ask in the name of all things sacred what shall men remember?† in reference to the Civil War which Trethewey revitalizes with her literary design. Utilizing ten stanzas each bearing distinct date, the poet pays tribute to one member of the Louisiana Native Guards being â€Å"the first officially sanctioned regiment of black soldiers in the Union Army.† With reference to the first line where the speaker expresses  Ã¢â‚¬ Truth be told, I do not want to forget†, the native guard himself is shown to have gathered to his sen sibility an essential contemplation of the past, adding â€Å"†¦I thought to carry with me / want of freedom though I had been freed, / remembrance not constant recollection†¦Ã¢â‚¬ . ... s and ends with a memory wherein the last line of each sonnet becomes a variant of the subsequent sonnet's opening line, as in a meaningful chronology of historical events. Since â€Å"Native Guard† is a first-person narrative supposedly by an unnamed ex-slave in an all-black regiment of the Union Army, the lines can be observed to possess stately approach to language and structure. Within the poem’s context is the presence of circularity depicting circumstantial shifts as one finds the former slave guarding the imprisoned inside the Union fort at Mississippi’s Ship Island. Comparing his personal life in relation to his professional life as a military officer who look after welfare of the fallen rebels, he states – I now use ink to keep record, a closed book, not the lure of memory — flawed, changeful — that dulls the lash for the master, sharpens it for the slave. For the slave, having a master sharpens the bend into work, the way the sergea nt moves us now to perfect battalion drill, dress parade. Trethewey’s style of writing in â€Å"Native Guard† is characteristic of a speaker’s tone or at least, a sound representative of the way speech is made in the culture or group the narrator has become a part of. Like journal entries, the words are phrased and constructed in a manner that indirectly yet effectively states the type of sentiments involved and along the following lines, the bitterness may be sensed with the drop of the last two words – †¦We’re called supply units - not infantry – and so we dig trenches, haul burdens for the army no less heavy than before. I heard the Colonel call it Nigger work†¦ Often, the work celebrates not only the factual details which history is not made to confront or disclose but also the most excruciating truths that

Data warehouse Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 500 words

Data warehouse - Essay Example From a succinct summarization to probable benefits and the gist of the books’ content, the paper is more like an abstract or preview of the books than a research or analytic paper. As such, the paper do not come in handy and useful for people who wish to gain deeper insights into information systems and their implications in business scenarios. For this purpose, they can get well informed through the books mentioned in the paper. Regarding the books reviewed, it can be said that they are reliable and must be containing valuable material on data mining, CRM (Customer Relationship Management), IT and BPR (Business process reengineering). The publication houses of these books are McGraw Hill and Prentice Hall which itself signify quality and authenticity of the content. The author has also reviewed contemporary books which show that the author keeps in touch with the latest know-how of the business market. The paper definitely is a very good descriptive piece in terms of definiti on and concept building. Benefits are properly defined and explained of each scenario but the author lacks in adopting a critical approach to review and delivers mostly positives of all.

Of Mice and Men Essay Essay Example for Free

Of Mice and Men Essay Essay Throughout the book, â€Å"Of Mice and Men† George is Lennie’s everything! From dusk to dawn he is Lennie’s caretaker, friend, and he also works in place of himself and Lennie, too! He doesn’t have the easiest job in the world, either. He is faced with many challenges throughout the book. I do believe that towards the end George was finally getting enough, and he was getting tired of watching Lennie struggle. It got the best of him in a way. George has a job as a ranch hand out on the ranch. He does a little bit of everything. From making sure that the animals are in good health, and to helping the boss with anything he needs. George even watches over the slaves, to make sure they are doing what they need to be doing and are staying away from the whites. He carries a lot of responsibilities! He is also doing Lennie’s job at the same time. As we found out very quickly, Lennie is not the best at doing the task, due to his mental illness. He doesn’t know his strength, and tends to hurt/kill people and animals. Lennie has a heart of gold, and means absolutely no harm. Because of Lennie’s mental state, he needs a caretaker. George has been the one to step up to the plate and take that position. They got kicked out of Weed because Lennie went to feel a lady’s dress, and she accused him of rape. George somewhat felt guilty because as his caretaker it is his responsibility to make sure and keep an eye on him. George has to keep a close eye on Lennie and make sure that he is doing right. Any wrong thing that he may do could easily fall back on George, and they can lose everything, such as their job and shelter. At the end of the book, George had had enough of watching Lennie do wrong. He knew that after killing Curley’s wife, it could be something much worse, and being the friend he was he couldn’t watch him go through that anymore! As a friend, George is Lennie’s everything! Throughout the book, George was Lennie’s only true friend. He understood him, when everyone else didn’t. George knew when he messed up, but he still treated him like a best friend. He was more than just a caretaker, he was like a brother! I give props to George! He had been around the world and back with Lennie and he still loved him for the person he was. Even when he killed things, he was still there  and didn’t think of him any less. Now that my friends, is a TRUE friend! This book was very touching, and sad. It helped open my eyes to realize that there really are people out there who do wrong, but don’t mean to. You may be proven guilty, but that doesn’t mean that you aren’t innocent. George really was a great friend to Lennie! He had a lot of responsibility on his shoulders! He would be one to look up to. Next time you see someone do wrong, you need to stop and ask yourself, â€Å"Did they really mean that?†

Oscar Wilde :: essays research papers

Oscar Wilde Oscar Wilde (real name Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde) was born on October 16th, 1854 in Dublin. His father, William Robert Wilde, was an eminent eye doctor, with an interest in myths and folklore. He was the founder of the first eye and ear hospital in Great Britain, as well as the appointed Surgeon Occultist to the Queen, who knighted him. His mother, Jane Francesca Elgee Wilde, was a poet who wrote patriotic Irish verse under the pen name Speranza, and had a considerable following. As a youngster, Wilde was exposed to the brilliant literary talk of the day at his mother's Dublin salon. In 1864 Wilde entered the Portora Royal School at Enniskillen, and in 1871 entered Trinity College in Dublin. In 1874 he left Ireland and went to England to attend Magdalen College at Oxford. As a student there, he excelled in classics, wrote poetry, and incorporated the Bohemian life style of his youth into a unique way of life. He came under the influence of aesthetic innovators such as English writers Walter Pater and John Ruskin. He found the aesthetic movement's notions of "art for art's sake" and dedicating one's life to art suitable to his temperament and talents. As an aesthete, Wilde wore long hair and velvet knee breeches, and became known for his eccentricity as well as his academic ability. His rooms were filled with various objets d'art such as sunflowers, peacock feathers, and blue china. Wilde frequently confided that his greatest challenge at University was learning to live up to the perfection of the china. Wilde won numerous academic prizes while studying there, including the Newdigate Prize, a coveted poetry award, for his poem Ravenna. In 1879 Wilde moved to London to make himself famous. He set about establishing himself as the leader and model of the aesthetic movement. Besides his hair and breeches, he added loose-fitting wide-collared silk shirts with flowing ties and lavender colored gloves. He frequently carried a jewel-topped cane and was caricatured in the press flamboyantly attired and holding an over- sized sunflower, an icon of the movement. Wilde quickly became well known despite having any substantial achievements to build on. His natural wit and good humor endeared him to the art and theater world, and through his lover Frank Miles, he found it easy to become part of the cliques that frequented London's theater circuit and drawing rooms. He became a much desired party guest, and eventually his popularity led to his being chosen as an advance publicity man for a new Gilbert and Sullivan operetta, Patience, that spoofed

Billy Budd Essay: Close, but no Christ Figure -- Billy Budd Essays

Billy Budd – Close, but no Christ Figure      Ã‚   Billy Budd, the foretopman in Billy Budd, Sailor, seems similar to Jesus Christ because of his relative appearance of purity, simplicity, and innocence. He posses human virtues which cannot be explained but* by any other method except comparison to Christ. Yet, while Budd may seem like a "Christ figure" at first glance, he is a far cry from the Christ of the Holy Bible.    Budd is human, and his short comings-his natural flaws and apathy towards others and his work-make it impossible for him to be a Christ figure-one who is blameless from birth until death, has the purpose of humanity's redemption continually in mind, and is totally self-sacrificing despite possession of tremendous power. Because he is human, Budd lives a very human life, and his actions throughout his life and ultimate death, while uncharacteristically heroic, are always limited to those of humanity. Christ, possessing unfathomable power lives a godly life and lays that life down to save humanity in fulfillment of prophecy. Further, the method and meaning of Budd's death is entirely different-in fact, not even related to those of Christ's death, burial, and resurrection.    "In this particular Billy was a striking instance that the arch interferer, the envious marplot of Eden, still has more or less to do with every human consignment to this plant of Earth" (1879). Budd, though created in the image of God, suffers imperfection and sin like every human being on Earth. His most visible imperfection, that which makes the most striking presentation, is his tendency to stutter under emotionally pressured situations. However, while his most visible flaw, it is not his only flaw as a human being. Billy B... ...f Grace and Redemption. This mission of Christ's determines the life He leads and the death He suffers, as well as the reason for His resurrection. Budd, having no reason to be where he is, leads a simple and apathetic life. His death, therefore, is of little or no consequence to those in the greater world. While Budd's simplicity and human virtue make him seem Christ-like on the surface, he lacks that connection to God that determines the very soul of a man. William Budd, foretopman, is not a "Christ figure" because he is not, and could never be, the Lamb of God.    Works Cited Melville, Herman. Billy Budd, Sailor. The American Tradition in Literature. Ed. George Perkins, et al. New York: McGraw Hill Publishing Company, 1990. 1872-1924. The Holy Bible. Ed. David R. Veerman, et al. New King James Version. Ilinois: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., 1994.

Succubus Revealed Chapter 7

No matter what shape he wore, Bastien always managed the same kind of smile – warm and infectious. I was grinning as I hugged him, too overwhelmed to form any other logical greeting or even ask why he was here. The last time I'd seen Bastien had been in Seattle last fall. He'd come to town to help discredit a conservative radio host and had succeeded (thanks to me), earning him accolades from our superiors. I'd lost touch with him shortly thereafter and had thought he'd been transferred to Europe or the East Coast. Maybe he had been, but he was here now. The full impact of Luis's earlier words came back to me as I stepped away from Bastien. â€Å"Wait. You're the other new employee?† Bastien's grin widened. He loved being able to shock and surprise me. â€Å"Afraid so, Fleur. I moved here a week ago, and our employer was kind enough to put me up here while I look for a place of my own.† He swept Luis a gallant bow. Luis nodded back, clearly enjoying the scenario he'd created. â€Å"Which, hopefully, you'll do soon. Accounting isn't going to let me get away with this place forever.† Bastien nodded gravely. â€Å"I've already scouted a couple of potential locations.† â€Å"And,† I teased, â€Å"Bastien doesn't even really need to find his own place. He could go out tonight, smile at the right people, and have a dozen rich women more than happy to give him a place to stay.† His current body looked to be in its late twenties, with sun-streaked brown hair and hazel eyes. It was pretty cute, but even if he'd looked hideous, he could still have talked himself into someone's heart. He was just that good. â€Å"Is that an invitation?† Bastien asked. â€Å"Because I have no plans for tonight.† â€Å"Well, you do now,† said Luis. â€Å"I figured you and Georgina would want to catch up, and you can give her your impressions of the city so far – which are all good, of course.† â€Å"Of course,† Bastien and I said in unison. â€Å"Also, I'd like her to meet Phoebe and maybe some of the other succubi,† Luis continued. â€Å"Ah, Mademoiselle Phoebe.† Bastien nodded his head approvingly. â€Å"An exquisite creature. You'll adore her.† â€Å"You apparently do,† I said. Succubi and incubi hooked up sometimes but generally stuck to humans for romantic liaisons. Bastien, however, had a particular penchant for my kind. He made a face. â€Å"None of my charms seem to be working on her. She says that I'll never be as infatuated with anyone else as much as I am with myself, so there's no point in her getting involved.† I laughed. â€Å"I like her already.† â€Å"Then it's settled.† Luis moved toward the door. â€Å"I have some business to take care of, but I'll see you before you leave. In the meantime, I trust Bastien will show you a good time. Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything.† Luis snapped his fingers, and a small business card appeared in his hand. He handed it to me. It was still warm. â€Å"Thanks, Luis,† I said, giving him a quick hug. â€Å"I appreciate everything you've done.† Luis nodded gravely. â€Å"I know you're not thrilled about this transfer, but I really, really would like for you to be happy here.† He left, and Bastien and I stood there in silence for a few moments. â€Å"You know,† I said at last, â€Å"in the years I've been in Seattle, I don't think Jerome has ever told me to call him if I needed anything.† Bastien chuckled as he walked over to a small but well-stocked bar. â€Å"Luis is quite exceptional from what I've seen so far. I was lucky to end up here. You too.† â€Å"Yeah. We're all lucky, aren't we?† I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall by the war. â€Å"How did you end up here?† â€Å"The same way any of us end up anywhere. I was living in Newark until I got the transfer order a couple days ago. Here I am.† I frowned. â€Å"I thought you said you'd been here a week?† â€Å"Week, a few days. I don't know. I admit, I've been kind of intoxicated since I arrived. It was recent, that's all. And a surprise.† â€Å"So was mine,† I murmured. â€Å"Astonishingly so. And now you're here too. It's kind of weird.† â€Å"Is it?† He emptied a martini shaker into two glasses. â€Å"We've worked together before. Figures that it would happen again.† I accepted the glass he offered me. â€Å"I suppose so. But still . . . the number of times we've ended up together has been pretty amazing. For it to happen again is a huge coincidence.† I took a sip and nodded approvingly. He'd used Grey Goose. â€Å"Maybe it's not a coincidence. They keep track of our performance records. They probably know we work well together.† I hadn't considered that. â€Å"You think they'd actually place us together because of that? To get results? I mean, I'm still trying to figure out why I was even transferred at all.† â€Å"There doesn't have to be a reason, not with them.† â€Å"I know. One theory about me being here is that I haven't been all that great of a succubus.† â€Å"Ah, then there you are. They sent you to me because they know what a good influence I am on you.† â€Å"Bad, you mean.† His eyes twinkled. â€Å"This is going to be a lot of fun having you here. I haven't even gambled yet, and already I feel like I hit the jackpot.† He knocked back his drink. â€Å"Finish that, and let's go have some fun. I know a great place for lunch. We'll go there and then hit some games of chance.† It felt weird going out on the town, especially so early in the day. I'd become too subdued in my Seattle life, I realized. I'd done such a good job at playing human that I'd forgotten what it was like to think like a succubus. Why not live it up in daylight? This was technically a business trip, but the point was to scope out the place of my future employment. I'd been here lots of times before, but this was the first time I really and truly studied the city through the eyes of an â€Å"on the clock† succubus. Again, I was struck by that earlier, heady sense: easy, so amazingly easy. We caught a cab, and Bastien gave instructions for us to go to Sparkles. I ran through my mental list of Las Vegas attractions and came up empty. â€Å"I've never heard of that,† I said. â€Å"It sounds like a strip club.† â€Å"Nah, it's a brand-new hotel and casino,† Bastien told me. â€Å"So shiny and new, in fact, that it just opened a couple of weeks ago, and already it's a hit.† â€Å"Why's it called Sparkles?† I asked. He grinned. â€Å"You'll see.† The answer was obvious once we got there. Everything was, well, sparkly. The exterior sign was a riot of glittering, chasing lights that should've had a seizure warning affixed to it. Everyone who worked in the hotel and casino wore elaborately sequined outfits, and all the decor was done in brightly colored metallic and glittering surfaces. Paired with the flood of flashing lights already found in a casino, the entire spectacle was hard on my eyes at first. Yet, despite what could've easily degenerated into tackiness, there was still something in the feel of the place that radiated luxury. Sparkles was over the top, yes, but in a good way. â€Å"Here,† said Bastien, leading me through the maze of the casino. â€Å"There's a little less sensory overload where we're going.† Opposite the side we'd entered in was a doorway dominated by a sign reading DIAMOND LOUNGE. With a name like that, I expected strippers and more glitz but instead found myself in a quiet and much more tastefully subdued establishment. Crystal chandeliers and wineglasses provide the only sparkle here. Everything else in the restaurant was warm, honey-colored wood and red velvet. When we were seated at our table, Bastien said to the waitress, â€Å"Can you tell Phoebe that Bastien is here?† I gave him a wry look once we were alone. â€Å"I see how it is. Here I thought you were going out of your way to take me somewhere nice. You're just here to visit your crush.† â€Å"That's merely a perk,† he told me easily. â€Å"The food here really is excellent. And Luis wants you to meet Phoebe too, remember? Don't worry, you'll like her.† I made no effort to hide my skepticism. â€Å"I don't know, Bastien. I can count on one hand how many succubi I've actually liked over the years. At best, they're tolerable and semiamusing, like Tawny.† At worst – and more often than not – succubi were raving bitches. Me excluded, of course. â€Å"Just wait and see,† he said. We didn't have to wait long because a couple minutes later, I felt the wash of a succubus aura come over me, one reminiscent of orange blossoms and honey. A tall, willowy woman in a black and white uniform appeared, carrying a tray with our cocktails on it. The employees here didn't have to match the glitzy attire of their hotel brethren. She set the cocktails before each of us with a grace and fluidity that was almost too much for this establishment. It reminded me of something more suited to the serving halls of kings from long ago – which, I suspected, she had probably known very well. â€Å"Ah, Phoebe,† Bastien sighed dreamily. â€Å"You are a vision, as always. Come meet our newest colleague.† She gave him the look one has when indulging a ridiculous child and sat down in one of our table's empty chairs. Her dark blond hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, revealing high cheekbones and long-lashed green eyes. â€Å"Oh, Bastien, don't start in on the vision stuff. It's far too early in the day.† She extended a polite hand to me. â€Å"Hello, I'm Phoebe.† â€Å"Georgina,† I said, shaking the offered hand. â€Å"Whatever Bastien's told you, only believe half of it.† She reconsidered, eyeing him carefully. â€Å"Make that a third.† â€Å"Hey,† exclaimed Bastien, with mock incredulity. â€Å"I resent that. As if I would ever lie to two such treasures as yourselves !† â€Å"Bastien,† said Phoebe dryly. â€Å"You'll lie to anything female if you think it'll get you in their pants faster.† I laughed in spite of myself, earning me another wounded look from Bastien. â€Å"Fleur, you know that's not true. You've known me longer than anyone.† â€Å"Which is exactly why I know it is true,† I replied solemnly. Bastien muttered something uncomplimentary in French and was saved further indignation when Phoebe's colleague returned to take our order. Phoebe, with our permission, ordered for us, requesting some â€Å"specials† that weren't on the menu. â€Å"Are you a cook here?† I asked her. â€Å"Bartender,† she replied, clasping her hands and resting her chin on them. â€Å"Gives me something to do until the show starts.† â€Å"Show?† Bastien's earlier dismay was gone, replaced with an expression of supreme smugness. â€Å"You see, Fleur? I told you I had a good reason for coming here. My lady Phoebe here is a . . .† He paused delicately. â€Å"Is it still polite to say ‘showgirl'? I can never keep track of what's PC anymore. It took me ages to figure out why I kept getting in trouble for calling career women ‘working girls.' â€Å" Phoebe laughed. â€Å"Yes, ‘showgirl' is fine.† I felt myself sitting up straighter. â€Å"You're a dancer? Where do you perform?† â€Å"Here,† she said. â€Å"Or, well, I will in a couple months. It hasn't opened yet.† â€Å"What kind is it?† I asked. â€Å"I mean, is there a theme?† â€Å"It's a full-fledged Vegas music-dance extravaganza. Exactly what you'd expect from a place called Sparkles. Rhinestones everywhere. Scanty, but not topless.† She tilted her head, regarding me with interest. â€Å"Are you a dancer?† â€Å"I dance,† I said modestly. â€Å"I haven't done full stage performances in a very long time, though. I'm out of practice.† Bastien scoffed. â€Å"That's nonsense. Fleur can pick up any routine. She used to bring the dance halls of Paris to their knees.† â€Å"Yeah,† I said. â€Å"A long time ago.† â€Å"Are you interested in being in it?† asked Phoebe, face serious. â€Å"They're still scouting. I can get you an audition. Although . . . you might want to make yourself taller.† â€Å"I . . . I don't know,† I said, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. â€Å"I mean, my transfer doesn't take place until next month. . . .† Phoebe was unconcerned. â€Å"I don't think Matthias would mind. He's the company manager. In fact . . .† She glanced at her watch. â€Å"He'll be around in another hour or so. I can take you to meet him.† â€Å"She'd be happy to,† said Bastien. â€Å"I'm sure she can answer for herself, monsieur,† replied Phoebe tartly. I chuckled at seeing Bastien dressed down again. â€Å"I'd love it. That'd be great.† Phoebe left us as our food began arriving, promising to return at the end of our meal. Everything she'd ordered for us was amazing, and I fretted over eating so much since I wasn't entirely sure if this meeting with the company manager would turn into a full-fledged audition. â€Å"Lovely, isn't she?† asked Bastien. â€Å"She is,† I agreed. â€Å"You were right.† What I found more astonishing than having the chance to dance in a Las Vegas show was that Phoebe was responsible for orchestrating it – and had seemed genuinely happy to do so. In my experience, succubi would jealously guard those kinds of positions, keeping out the competition. â€Å"I have no doubt you'll dance your way right into this Matthias's heart,† Bastien mused. He gave a mournful sigh. â€Å"Would that I could dance so easily into Phoebe's heart.† â€Å"She's too smart for you,† I said. â€Å"She knows your tricks.† â€Å"Of course she does. I'd think that would be half the appeal.† He paused to finish off the last of his cocktail. â€Å"Speaking of bizarre attractions . . . I'm totally behind in what's transpiring in your Northwestern world. Are you still joined at the hip with that introverted mortal?† â€Å"Literally and figuratively,† I told him. Thinking of Seth diminished some of my earlier good mood. â€Å"This transfer . . . it was kind of a shock. I don't know how it's going to affect our relationship.† Bastien shrugged. â€Å"Bring him here.† â€Å"It's a little more complicated than that.† â€Å"Not if he wants you badly enough. Here.† Bastien waved to get the waitress's attention. â€Å"Have another round with me. That'll fix everything.† â€Å"Not when I might have to dance soon!† But I shared the round anyway and found my cheerfulness returning. It was hard not to with Bastien. I'd known him for a long time, and there was something so easy and comforting about being in his presence. We swapped stories and gossip on immortals we knew, and I got the scoop on some of the more colorful ones I'd eventually be meeting here in Las Vegas. Phoebe returned just as we were paying the bill, having swapped her work attire for casual dance clothing. She led us back through the labyrinthine glitz of the casino and into the quieter and much more subdued back halls of the building. They in turn led to a backstage door to the casino's theatre, which wasn't yet open to the public. We found the vast space empty, save a couple guys installing tables in the seating area. The pounding of their hammers echoed through the room. A moment later, I did a double take when I saw a man sitting off to the side of the stage, so still I'd hardly noticed him. He glanced up from a sheaf of papers at our approach. â€Å"Phoebe,† he said. â€Å"You're early.† â€Å"I wanted to introduce you to someone,† she said. â€Å"Matthias, these are my friends Bastien and Georgina. Georgina's moving here next month.† Matthias looked like he was in his late twenties, early thirties at most, and had sandy blond hair in need of a haircut. There was something cute about its disheveled state, and he took off wire-rimmed glasses to peer up at me. I couldn't help but think Ian would've liked those glasses, but unlike Ian, Matthias probably needed them. Matthias blinked a couple of times, and then his eyebrows rose in surprise. â€Å"You're a dancer,† he said to me. â€Å"Er, yeah, I am. How'd you know?† Per Phoebe's suggestion, I'd made myself put on some height while we were walking down the back halls, but that was hardly enough to tip him off. Matthias got to his feet and studied me up and down, not in a leering kind of way . . . but more like how someone assesses the value of a piece of art. â€Å"It's in how you walk and stand. There's a grace to it. An energy. It's exactly what she does.† He nodded toward Phoebe. â€Å"Are you guys sisters?† â€Å"No,† said Phoebe. â€Å"But we've taken some of the same classes.† Bastien choked on a laugh. Matthias was nodding, completely enraptured. He picked up his papers and flipped through the pages. â€Å"Yes . . . yes . . . we could definitely use you here and here.† He paused, checking a few more places. â€Å"And here. Maybe even here.† He jerked his head up, blue eyes alight and excited. â€Å"Let's see what you can do. Phoebe – do the opening part of the second number.† Phoebe responded instantly, springing to center stage and instantly falling into line as Matthias began counting off beats. When they finished, he looked at me expectantly. â€Å"Now you do it.† I started to point out that I was in heels and a dress but then realized showgirl attire probably wouldn't be too different. I took a spot near Phoebe and mirrored her as Matthias counted again. We repeated the combination, and by the third time, I hardly had to look at her to get the steps. He directed her to a different number, slightly more complicated, and a similar performance ensued as I sought to match her. When we finished, he clicked his tongue in approval. â€Å"Amazing,† he said. â€Å"You guys need to tell me where you trained so that I can recruit all your classmates.† Turning back to his papers, he began scribbling notes. â€Å"Phoebe, can you lend her some clothes for practice? Not that it'll affect her performance, of course, but I imagine she'd be more comfortable in something else for two hours of rehearsal.† Phoebe winked at me. â€Å"I'm pretty sure we can get her a change of clothes.† I glanced between her and Matthias. â€Å"Rehearsal?† â€Å"Sure,† said Matthias, still not looking up. â€Å"That's what we do to get ready for performances around here.† â€Å"You want to be in the show, don't you, Lucy?† teased Bastien. â€Å"I understand . . . but I'm not moving to Las Vegas until January,† I explained. â€Å"I have to go home tomorrow night.† Matthias finally glanced up briefly from his beloved notes, seeming as pained as Seth often was when interrupted while writing a book. â€Å"You're here right now, aren't you? Might as well get started. Unless you've got something else going on?† I looked helplessly at Bastien and Phoebe, who were grinning like idiots. The incubus slung a friendly arm around me. â€Å"Of course she doesn't.† After a moment's hesitation, I gave a slow nod, still a little overwhelmed at how fast things were moving here. â€Å"I . . . I'd love to rehearse.†