Let me go back to sleep.
What do you mean you have something new to write?
How can a muse play strip poker?
Oh you didn't! I am so gonna get in trouble for this. Wonder if I can write up a muse police squad thing.
Ok that is just not fair at all!
This is a work of fiction. No transgender people were harmed in the making of this story. Animals and bigots I'm not so sure about.
"No! N.O. End of discussion! I'm Not gonna even think about it!" I slammed my bedroom door on Gwen.
Gwen is my older sister by 7 years. I am twelve, well almost anyways. My name is simply Mark Swain. Forget the twain jokes I have heard them all.
I know what your thinking. Is he related to Marcie Swain the child actress? Well sorta. Sigh, yes I WAS Marcie Swain. But let me explain.
When I was two years of age everyone thought I was just the prettiest little girl. Problem is I'm male. I was brought along when Stacy tried out for the part of Princess Marcie for the simple reason Mom and Dad couldn't get a baby sitter for me.
Stacy read her two lines and that was supposed to be that. The sitcom originally had Princess Marcie as an eight year old princess who was in America to learn to be a regular girl. I didn't care at the time I was just 4 years of age. The problem occured when the production manager and director saw me as we went to a crying Stacy on the stage to retrieve her after she was rejected. They, of course, thought I was perfect for the part and after a few days of contract negotiations and alot of explaining to me Marcie Swain began 2 months of 8 hour days, with alot of nap time. The first season became a hit and the next couple of months were spent shooting all of the first 3 seasons. I actually attended Kindergarden as a girl because of that.
Grade 1 and the rest of Primary school I spent alot of time infront of cameras as Marcie Swain the Princess of Belar. Out of camera I was myself with alot of ribbing in school. As I entered elementary grade 4 the series was canceled at its 5 year conclusion with my family fairly well off. I have enough money in a trust account for when I graduated to attend university as a medical doctor should I choose to do so. We still get royalties on many of the products my pictures sell.
I put my foot down in grade four to be a normal boy and my parents agreed fully with it. And that was supposed to be the end of Marcie Swain child actress. Which it was till a week or two ago when my older sister Gwen's flower girl got into a car accident and has a broken arm, leg and some facial bruises that will take awhile to heal.
To maintain my boyish image I usually keep my hair in a buzz cut but have left it slide this year as I was too busy with school and school sports. I am not the best athlete by far since I'm the smallest kid in class I do make the effort to try though. I'm waiting patiently for that fabled growth spurt of puberty to take effect so I can lose the girlish face. I do wear some makeup but to tone down my natural features not enhance them.
My cute button nose, cobalt blue eyes, high prominent cheekbones, and pouty lips are transformed into a not quite straight angular nose, puffy cheeks, and badly chapped lips. It works and takes about 5 minutes tops for me to do. I have done it for so long to hide Marcie that it's just normal.
Two days ago my nutty sister broke down in tears and told mom to cancel her wedding as it was ruined. Now Gwen and Mom had been planning my sisters wedding to the ninth degree for over a year. News like this did not go down well with Mom. It really all hinges on a replacement flower girl in a short amount of time. They need someone pretty enough to walk behind the bride with the flower bouquet. The only girls available are either too ugly, too fat, or too young to pull this off.
The original flower girl had a specially made dress that nearly all of the wedding party has seen, the dress not the girl, it has some play in the stitching but not a ton so one dress size up or down and that's it.
Gwen in her insanity remembered that her little brother was also her little sister when she looked up and saw a rerun of Princess of Belar on tv. So a few minutes ago she just about begged me to be Marcie Swain one last time. I have finnaly just about put an end to Marcie and she is asking alot of me to unbury her. Worse, Gwen happens to be engaged to Timothy James Dalton, former star of Princess of Belar and current up and coming action film star.
Tim starred as Blake Bucksworth the hunky teenaged distant cousin, who's family was incharge of Marcies American education. While I was the shy but oh so cute girly girl, he was the down home all american boy. He kinda knows who I am and that I look simular to Marcie but not really, only a very select few knew about it.
If I resurrect Marcie, especially for this wedding, it would reguire some padding in a certain female area, I can just see the paparazzi's having a field day and soon after all the papers showing an older but still cute Marcie with her former co star. Yeah right there ends my boy life again for sure. Not gonna happen!
I hate dresses for a very good reason. Marcie wore way to many of them. I am not really throwing Marcie around as a separate identity or anything its just easier to write about Marcie as a separate person. You see Marcie is 8 parts acting, 1 part me, 1 part makeup and 9 parts clothes. In order to play Marcie I had to put myself into a little trance of a sort for the mannerisms speech and just overall girlyness. It wasn't easy on me emotionally and intellectually. When I play Marcie I become for all purposes a girl. Not a boy in a dress a girl. It's hard to explain.
As you can imagine my parents, after much consoling, reluctantly withdrew me from acting. It took me a bit to stabilize into a boy again so I am reluctant to say the least in being her again, even for a short time.
I do wonder if I can do it though. Its been a long time since I last tried. NO I am a boy not a girl! Speaking of girls there is plenty of girls around from school who should be able to fill the spot. Then again could any of them be trusted to not go gaga over Tim? Probably not.
The real problem is that I am scared. Terrified really, the first time I was becoming Marcie more and more at any time of day. It was first called role immersion but it started to go far beyond that which was why I was stopped. When this type of immersion happens the real persona of the person becomes trapped under the portrayed character. In worst cases it almost but not quite becomes permanent with the final point becoming a suicidal binge. I was removed from this apparently early enough to prevent it from happening, and I was told that there was no reason for me to worry about it. Still I was worried about it happening again. Could I keep myself separate? Or was Marcie really more than just a character I portrayed?
I couldn't answer those questions then. I'm still not sure I can now. Do I risk everything for my older sister? I'm 12 years old! I shouldn't have to make these kind of choices. They say the best way to confront your fears is to well confront them. I know that doesn't sound right but it sorta makes sense.
In my case it means instead of being scared of Marcie I should unbury her and see if it is just a thing, myself or something else again. My therapist suggested I should do this one time, preferably with her, I always refused before.
I guess it boils down to do I love my sister enough to risk myself? I know the answer to that. It scares me though. I make my way out of my room deep in thought and go upstairs into the attic where my sisters older clothes are stored until we have enough to give away or a charity shows up to collect them. I search through Stacy's older dresses, skirts and tops for a Marcie outfit. I try on the clothes once or twice for fit over my own clothes and yes they do fit. I finally chose a simple small white sundress with rose colored rose prints all over it. A pair of slightly scuffed but otherwise ok while open toed sandals to go with it. Luck would have it that there is one of her old padded bras from when she was still flat chested that will give me the appearance of small but developing breasts. I find a pair of panties to go with it, apparently never worn since the tags are still on it. A little more digging produces some accessories like some wrist bangles, a purse that just needs the strap removed to be a nice clutch and small necklace that just needs the catch reconnected.
I take my supplies back to my room and prepare a few things. I fix the necklace easy enough and with the sharp knife remove the leftover broken strap from the purse to make a small carry around clutch. More girly and definitely more of Marcie's style anyways. From the bottom of my bathroom I remove the small travel iron/blowdryer and iron out the wrinkles in the dress, panties and bra. I small bit of thread is needed to sew up the one tiny seam on the dress I didn't notice before. Easy fixes really.
I make myself a bath in the tub and using one of the pink razors I liberated from my sisters bathroom soap up my legs and shave them for the first time. I also do my arms for good measure. It has been awhile since I had skin this smooth. I shampoo and condition my hair which has grown out a bit. While short for a girl it is long for a boy. My plan is to restore Marcie's girly curls with Gwen's curling iron. Well her old one I also found in the attic before she got her new"professional model"
I have never done my hair like this before but I do remember the makeup artists and hairdressers methods from years ago. By the time I am done with the curling iron my damp hair is mostly dry and Marcie is almost back again. Next I use the almost never used portions of makeup I have to enhance my girlish features on my face. It takes me awhile and I am shaking a bit at how easy this is going. I also take some time to file and shape my nails. They are no way all that girly girlish but they are less of a boys ratty nails anyways.
Now is the final moment of truth. I pick up the panties and put them on tucking myself to give me the smooth front. Next up is the padded bra. I play with the straps a bit but it doesn't look or feel right. I do some thinking and come up with a small solution. I find the old package of water balloons and fill them with a small amount of water then tie them off. These inserted into the cups give it more of a realistic bounce and the bra just sits better. I put on the shoes and it takes me a bit to get them on as I mixed them up the first time but get it done.
The dress goes on easily and zips up nicely. Finally I put on the wrist bangles and the small necklace which dangles down into what would be my cleavage if I had any. I go to the mirror and low and behold Marcie is back with a vengeance. Now I have to admit Marcie the child was cute. However Marcie the young girl shows an up and coming beauty for sure.
This time I don't feel any different really. It is just me with a different clothes on not a different person. I sit in the mirror and practice a few girly moves and speaking much like the girls in school do. I giggle at how foolish I feel doing so. I move to the door and take a very deep breath. Opening that door was both the hardest thing I have ever done and the most brave.
My small heels are quiet on the carpeted floor of the hallway and the stairs as I desend into the living room. I can hear Mom trying to comfort a crying Gwen in the kitchen. I feel awful for the way I treated her now and hold back some tears of my own. I am doing this for her. It is really not a large price to pay to make my sisters dreams come true.
I am at the edge of the kitchen this is the very last moment. I can walk away and get all undone. Nobody will be the wiser. Or I can be brave and walk forward into the kitchen. Nobody ever said being brave was easy.
Click click click go my heels on the floor of the kitchen. My sister and Mom look up. Gwen's eyes go huge at the sight of me.
"Marcie?" she asks.
"Uhm Hi Gwen. So I hear you need a flower girl for your wedding. Is the spot still open for volunteers?"I say in a sing song voice.
"Not anymore sister! Come here." My sisters tear streaked face breaks into a beaming sun. She runs to me and gives me a hug so tight I can almost feel the water from my balloons threatening to make a mess. Mom comes over with tears leaking down her face.
"Mark are you sure about this?"mom asks me.
"I am doing this for Gwen."
I was playing that!
Do you understand what a solo story means?
You do realize that the term new chapter also means it goes on further than a sequal.
Fine let me know I'm going back to playing wow... Where the flagnar is my icon?
YOU DELETED IT!!!
This is the work of fiction. No transpeople were harmed in the making of this story. Muses on the other hand....
Stacy got home from her latest boy crush / wannabe boyfriend outing not to long after Marcie made her reappearance. I believe she changes boyfriends more often that she eats food. It's one of those girl things you need a manual for.
Stacy was thrilled to see her little sister again, I got warned to leave her boyfriend, who I thought was Dave but is now Doug apparently, alone. So the three swain sisters were all sitting on the couch chatting away when dad came home. He did a double take when he saw me of course.
"Marcie? How? What?" my dad is such a man of words. Mom took pity on him and gave him the rundown in the kitchen. Gwen and Stacy were all for setting me up as a proper girl with a wardrobe right then and there. Mom stepped in and reminded Gwen it was for her wedding I was doing this. The following arguement over how many days Marcie would be around between my sisters and Mom took about 40 minutes. Dad bailed out after 5 and hid in the basement to watch tv. I wanted to go with him but "sit young lady" put a stop to that.
In the end it was agreed that I would be Marcie for about 5 days to get dress fitted, practice the ceremony and whatnot. I was to be Marcie only for part of time and myself the rest. I was ok with that and agreed. Stacy pouted as she wanted to spend time teaching me all the girl things I had missed out on the last few years.
For the most part I sat there in my dress all prim and proper, as mom puts it, without any thought of how to sit. Old habits die hard I guess. Its just the way Marcie sits. Back straight, sit on edge not all the way back chest out shoulders back, hands folded into lap. The only reason it was brought to my attention was that Mom said "Marcie you still are more of a proper lady than your two sisters after all this time." Much shuffling by my two embarrassed sisters followed. I couldn't help it I giggled, yes giggled, like a twitty schoolgirl at that comment.
The girls asked if we could go shopping for some new clothes for me but Mom got this faraway look in her eye and said not tonight. After that she went into the den to call someone as we heard her chatting on the phone. We couldn't tell what she was talking about just more along the lines of general noises. We chatted for a little while about this and that. It's strange really I have been here all along but as a boy we didn't really chat that much. But as Marcie it was like we were catching up after being seperated for years. I pointed this out to them. They replied "But Mark is a boy!" Again with the cryptic girl manual comment.
After the novelty of "The return of Marcie" wore off my sisters went upstairs to do their usual evening things. I actually do not know what they do in their rooms, I can trust them to not spill anything but still I do wonder. My thoughts were interrupted by Mom sitting down next to me. I just layed into her and got a hug.
"You are being a very brave girl to do this for your sister."she started off. Even Mom slips into the Marcie is a girl thing seemlessly.
"I know. It's scary how easy this is Mom. I keep thinking I should be having so much trouble with this but I don't. Why is that Mom? Does this mean I am some sort of freaky boy who is really a girl?"
"No sweetie. Never call yourself a freak its not true. You just are an individual for who the line between a girl and boy is blurred. It will become clear in time as to which one you are."
"Mom does that mean you prefer Marcie over Mark?"
"I love Mark with all my heart just as much as I love Marcie. Its just that as Mark you were pouty almost all the time. And now seeing you as Marcie again with that pretty smile. Well its gonna take a little to get used too." I pouted? I don't remember pouting.
"Should I got get changed back into Mark then Mom?"
"Actually not right now there is someone who is coming over in a bit to help us pull Marcie into her teens. We want to keep Mark separate from Marcie still but it will take a little more than it used to for it to be done. You will understand more when she gets here."
I went downstairs and sat with dad on the old couch infront of our 50 in flatscreen and we watched CSI together. Nothing needed to be said to him I was his son simply that. I leaned into him like I always do and he put his arm around my bare shoulders for a squeeze and that was that. I smiled I love my dad he doesn't make things complicated.
It was almost the end of the show where the least suspected person turns out to be the killer when the doorbell rang. I got up and brushed out my dress. I looked at Dad and said "Marcie enters" he laughed and told me to get so I did. Its been awhile since I wore girly shoes around the house I tripped on the carpet metal strip at top of stairs because the heel on the shoe just caught it. I recovered thankfully with no one the wiser.
I made my way into the living room trying to squirm and get the heel back into its proper place. Not the most girlish of mannerisms I know.
"Well well well. And who is this pretty young lady? Oh my can it be little Marcie? Surely not! She was adorably cute and not such a pretty girl." said the newcomer.
"Oh my god! Auntie Em!" I couldn't help it I squealed. Its been 3 or more years since I last saw her. She isn't really my aunt but I called her that during the show. She was my personal Makeup artist / tutor / confidante.
"When the Agency called and told me that Marcie Swain was making a brief appearance and needed help I couldn't believe it. I thought Bob was pulling my leg. He insisted and I still didn't believe him but low and behold here you are! And you have grown too! Come give auntie a huggle." Emma beamed at me. Since I was doing the bobbing thing waiting for it I rushed into her embrace. Of all the things I hated about that show at the end Emma wasn't one of them.
With a disapproving tone"And what are you using to pad out that bra young lady?" She could always see right through my attempts. Patiently taught me makeup tricks too. She is the one that made my return to Mark the plain boy possible.
"Water balloons." I said this to the floor as I felt guilty.
"Helen is there a place we can go to do some work? I got a few new ideas I'm just dying to try on her.'she asked mom then turning to me once again."I always hoped we could do a return of Marcie just once and found some of the neatest little tricks that I just know you will love to try."
Mom led us to my room where I immediately blushed a deep red. On the floor was my boys clothes of a few hours ago and I had left a few things a bit of a mess as well. Emma led me to the bed and helped me get undressed. All of it though she tutted at the balloons she did complement me on the makeup with "Not bad for a teenager". Emma pulled out some boxes from her carry all and proceeded to get to work. I was asked to lay down backwards on my bed and she put on some latex gloves. I found some of what she did a bit ticklish and tried to stay as still as possible.
First she put some sort of lotion on my private area, waited for a few minutes then using a warm cloth and soap washed down my private area. She used a blow dryer to get it just a touch more dry and then proceeded to put junior into a tube of some sort with a bit of fiddling. He tried to come to attention but a sharp wack put an end to that. The massaging above my testicles was ticklish. I felt a little push then another. This was followed by something else being placed overtop and held into place.
Mom's gasp of "Oh my it looks so real" didn't help to curb my curiosity at all. I felt and heard a little spraying as she put some sort of spray down below. It was cold so I flinched. The sensation I got from there was different than before. I tried to sit up and was pushed down. "Not yet luv"
Emma then put some gel thing on my chest, her and mom debated on the look and size of whatever it was. When it was decided I saw her mix some chemicals together in a small glass flask. This was pulled into a syringe of some sort and this was injected into the blob. The blob took on my skin color after a few seconds. She next put some more into another blob. When she was satisfied she approached me with spray of some sort and using one hand to cover me as much as possible, I believe it was to prevent fumes, she sprayed around the nipples on my chest. I then felt the cold blobs being pressed into this. I yelped from the cold. I tried to squirm but was told to stay still.
After about a minute they warmed up and it was less uncomfortable. She did some fiddling with the edges of the blobs and then wiped me down with first a smelly rag then some soap and water. The blobs transferred some of the feeling but not all and I could feel the difference.
Emma spent a few minutes talking to Mom about some of what she was doing and how to remove them and then put them on. I really didn't understand what was being talked about since I wasn't allowed to move yet. When I finally allowed to move I sat up and noticed my chest drooped. I looked down and saw breasts. Very real looking female breasts. I was not expecting that. Nor was I expecting to find my crotch smooth flat and with a little slit either. I could sorta feel through it but not entirely so I knew deep down it was fake. I still kinda freaked a little and backed away across my bed a bit too fast and fell off the side backwards.
Mom and Emma rushed to my side and helped me calm down saying it was only a temporary test to see how they fit. It was explained to me that this would make it darn near impossible for anyone to believe I was anything but Marcie a girl and not Mark the boy. The small bottle of fake blood to put into a pad when I went to the bathroom would just help convince anyone of the validity of Marcie being female. I calmed down eventually but it took a bit. After a fair bit of exploring I realized that it was really just a good latex prosthesis and I could still feel junior if a tried. He was just trapped in a relaxed backward position to allow me to pee with the prosthetic on. The geeky side of me thought it was uber cool. I didn't even know stuff like this existed.
The breast forms, as I found out the name of the blobs, are a version of implants with a coloring mix. Apparently the nipples respond to temperature changes somewhat. Or in words I can understand the nipples, which are larger than my own, poke out. Mom and Emma lifted their shirts and showed me the real thing in their bras since I was now "just one of the girls". I don't get it either.
Emma spent the rest of the evening teaching me how to put on "teenager star" makeup which was alot more complicated than my usual. Evening looks, clothing looks, summer spring colors, eyelash curlers. Why this mascara with that brush was better for this look versus that look. It was makeup boot camp 101. These were things "Marcie child star" would know at her age. I was not thrilled and as childish as it seems I did throw a small fit.
All my sport tries did leave me with the "perfect teen girl figure" it was NOT intentional trust me. After we had finished with the lessons, which did include more hair styling tips, it was time to remove the falsies. Emma reached for the can of remover and tried to remove the lid. It did not come off. This was a bad sign. Mom called for dad to come help of course forgetting exactly how I looked since I had, till this point, been wearing my robe over everything.
"What is the proble.. Jesus mother Mary Joseph Marcie put on some clothes!" dad said while turning away. He just as quickly turned around and looked at me again.
"Helen, why does our son look exactly like her sisters even nakid now?" his eyes were huge. I quickly grabbed my robe and covered my privates, then at moms look I looked down and covered the breasts too.
"They are fake glue on's dear" mom said it so normally like its an everyday convenience. I giggled at that which probably didn't help dads blood pressure."The remover is in this can which we cannot get the lid off can you with your manly muscles open this?" A challenge to dads male ego. At this point he will do anything to get it open Including use of power tools. Hey wait a minute why didn't they get me to try? I am supposed to be male too.
Dad immediately put took the can and proceeded to wrench it off. Or try to anyways. It was stuck fast which was not a good sign at all. I am proud to say dad gave it his best and then some as with the cracking of plastic he got the top off to expose a mass of crystallized something.
"Oh that doesn't look good." Emma is the master of understatement. I started to panic at this point since in less than a week I am supposed to start school again. The original plan was for me to be Mark while going to school and Marcie only for the actual wedding events. I had not agreed to this at all. The look I gave mom must have conveyed this as she gave Emma another look where Emma mouthed a silent "Oh".
Emma spent the next hour talking to other makeup artists, late night stores of dubious nature, and some friends she would not disclose why to me. The end result was that the product she had used was a special adhesive that requires this remover to remove. None of the other removers on the market would remove these. This is a waterproof long lasting kind that actually bonds through a couple layers of skin. To let them come off naturally it would take 3 weeks she said.
I really started to panic now. I must have been repeating "don't want to be a girl" for a bit cause the next thing I remember is my therapist, looking like someone was woken from sleep, holding me while I cried. I was also in my bathtub for some reason. Things are a little difficult to recall at this point because she made me swallow a pill of some sort and led me from my bathroom. I was dressed into my usual pajamas and tucked into bed.
Sleep overcame me while Mom and Dad sat beside me on my bed making comfort noises.
Finnaly! Wow is reloaded and I can play again!
What do you mean I can't?
Common get real! I fed you yesterday.
I am NOT, I repeat NOT responisble for paying off your poker bets.
Whatever I am going to play...
WHAT THE FLAGNAR! YOU DELETED IT AGAIN!
This is a work of Fiction. No transpeople were harmed during the making of this story. Muses on the other hand are about to lose some limbs...
I woke to the sun shining into my face, which means its about 10 ish. I rolled over hoping it was really just a nightmare. No such luck the blobs are still stuck to my chest. I lay in bed for some time thinking it over. Was it really that bad to be stuck as a girl for three weeks. More importantly as Marcie.
I found myself wondering which was more important to me my boyhood or my sister's happiness. I had already agreed to be Marcie for the time being and her flower girl. I wasn't really a girl under all this stuff was I? It should be no different than that time in season 4 episode 16 Halloween. Just a bit longer and I didn't have a bloody pulsing open wound across my throat and forehead. It was kinda fun though best costume ever. Even though I was a female zombie in Blake's nightmare it was still funny. Heck most of the crew and cast couldn't stop laughing which was why it took 3 days to shoot it.
I rolled over again. Problem was this wasn't the movies wear after a few hours I could take off Marcie. I would have to be Marcie to real people for days. I usually go to a public school but for some reason, I blame television, the thought of going to school as a girl brought up the idea of a girls school uniform, pleated skirt, white blouse etc. I couldn't even remember if I had ever seen such a thing in real life. A small tiny part of me may have been excited at the thought but that was it. The rest dreaded the girls in school. Gwen had gone to a private girls school. The girls there were mean I remember that much.
I rolled over again. The problem was I had lost the freedom to chose for myself. That is what really was bothering me. I wonder can I still be Mark with a girls body? Is it possible? I just didn't know. I am only 12 how am I supposed to understand all this. I think grownups end up in creepy hospitals because of stuff like this.
A soft knocking occurred at my bedroom door. I knew it was mom when she opened the door and called out "Mark". I just sniffled as a reply. I didn't even know I was crying. I didn't look up or even move. I did feel mom come over and sit down on the bed where I was facing. She didn't say anything she just waited.
After a few minutes of silent sniffles she handed me a tissue so I had to move and blow my nose. When I sat up and looked at her she had a guilty look on her face.
"Mark I am sorry for what happened. Its all my fault I should never have let it go that far. I was just trying to protect you." Mom actually started to sniffle herself so I handed back the Kleenex box. We both cried for a few minutes. Each saying sorry to the other, I am not sure why I did that.
Mom explained that she was just protecting me. The Marcie parts were to help me be separate from Marcie. I know of a few child actors who are stuck in a stereo type of being the character they portrayed all the time. They are not and do not act that way off the stage but they are seen that way. Since I am not really Marcie this has not happened to me. I also remembered about Molly. Molly was a girl who was my current age at the time. She was cast as Cousin Molly Bucksworth, she was supposed to be my girly cousin for a season but after a week of shooting she got drugged or drunk, I forget which I was almost 6 at the time, and got caught by the director. It was the fame of being "Marcie's cousin" that allowed some older fan to entice her. She made a fool of herself in public and was cancelled from the show. I heard after the show ended that she is banned from acting again because of that. The "fan" is also in jail.
I am not kidding about the banned part no director will take her seriously because of that display. I know there was a video involved but I don't know anything more about that. Maybe when I am older I can find out more. So while I do not like what mom allowed to happen I can understand her reasoning.
We talked some more just small talk really. I knew it was more to let me calm down and think things through. I just sat there in bed in my pajamas after awhile we ran out of small talk and it was back to things. Mom talked about seeing a doctor to remove the Marcie bits, they were just latex, fake really. I told mom thank you but I would think about it. She left me in my room to think about it and I did.
I wondered what it would be like to at least get through the wedding as Marcie then I could get them removed via a doctor and return to myself. So really I wasn't stuck. I got up from my bed and went looking for some clothes. My normal boy clothes. The familiar y fronts, the worn jeans with the thin knees, the plain old tshirt a size or so too big. My regular day wear. I told myself the mirror would show me Mark as always.
I was wrong in the mirror was Marcie looking like a cute tomboy. I groaned someone somewhere would probably want a pic of this look. Shaking my head I left my room. I may look like a girl but I am still a growing teenaged boy. I was hungry and the smell of breakfast was enticing my now growling stomach. It wasn't until I got to the kitchen that I realized I hadn't eaten last night with everything going on.
As I got into the kitchen I found I wasn't the only late riser, dad was still in his pj bottoms and had that itchy stubble all over his face still.
"Marcie" Dad of few words before that morning cup of gross stuff takes effect.
"Dad" i just nodded.
"Daddy Marcie." he corrected, he always did things like this way back when.
"Oh right Morning Daddy!" the sweetness almost dripped in the air, its been awhile since I did the Marcie speak. Its a voice thing. He sputtered his precious coffee when I did that and I laughed at it. Not giggled but out right laughed. That more than anything else cheered me up. Stacy chose that moment to walk into the kitchen, she was of course all ready for the day, makeup just perfect, the right accessories with her outfit, which as dad did point out was a little older for her. It was a A line skirt that came over her knees and the tight elbow length sleeved top showed a little to much cleavage.
Dad and Stacy did their usual argument while I grabbed some cooked ham, soft yoke eggs and toast. I wasn't the center of attention and I loved it. Stacy routinely tried to dress above her years in what dad calls trashy. Dad wanted his daughters in suitable clothing, which according to mom, Stacy, and Gwen involved figure hiding "dumpy" clothing. As the only boy I could get away with the dumpy look. Mom tried many times to update "My look" with golf shirts and whatnot.
"You should dress more like Marcie is." I sputtered my berry juice at that comment from dad.
"What do you mean dad Marcie, Oh Marcie!" Stacy gave me the look and from the tone of voice I had committed some horrible sin.
"Leave me out of this!"well I tried. Didn't work though as before I could finish my breakfast Stacy pulled me towards her room. We passed Gwen in the hallway, a short few girl manual words that should be sentences just missing stuff and Gwen had the other arm. I tried to protest I didn't need anything and that what I was wearing was fine. I should be safe right? Wrong my first sin was apparently the "wrong" underwear. The list went on for a bit including my utter lack of makeup. They spent a few minutes going through Stacy's wardrobe for a modern look. My suggestions of the more girly type Marcie outfits being fine went unheard. Mom heard the arguing and came in to help. The "Tone it down girls" didn't make me feel all that better since I was one of the girls.
I now know why it takes an hour for girls to get ready. Every outfit is tried on then argued over repeatedly. In simple terms none of what Stacy has is really a Marcie style. Marcie is more of a girly girl, where Stacy is more along the lines of a hip lost tomboy chick. I don't get the terms either. The comments from Mom and Gwen about Stacy's drab wardrobe had me in fits a few times.
Most people don't know this but a public relations agency or PR rep does more than just post around pics for child actors they help build an image for them. This is what was used to decide on Marcie aka me style. My rep was Bob Matliks, he has one of those last names that sounds worse than it is. Bob is really a nice guy and his staff of 10 people, all girls for some reason, are the ones that have worked and maintained Marcie's image being totally separate from plain Mark.
They finally settled on a mid length lace trimmed denim skirt and a plain white top with Girl Power on the front. I think that's from some group but at moment can't remember the name. A bra and panty set are chosen from the back of Stacy's drawer as well. I was then ushered to my room to get properly dressed after a bath. I complained I had one last night. This got me looks from all three and a "What?". 8 minutes later I was washing with a poofy in a scented bath water. None of which were mine.
It was well past lunchtime by the time I had gotten ready as Marcie with her new updated makeup look from last night. Gwen Mom, and a changed Stacy were waiting in the living room for me. The flower girl dress fitting wasn't until the evening so I didn't see what the fuss was about. When I got down and they approved after a minor correction to my eyeshadow, apparently I had chosen night time verse daytime shadow.
I still didn't understand why Mom was insistent we didn't have enough time. Mom mentioned something about a new wardrobe for the little time. I didn't really pay that much attention as I thought she meant Stacy and not me. During the drive we did some small rehearsing. To the public Marcie Swain is my cousin, and Mom is my Aunt Helen. They had me practice saying Aunt Helen in the Marcie voice. Which although I hadn't noticed, with my changed voice and the speak I overheard from girls at school, had changed Marcie from small girl to modern teenager.
The trip to the mall was thankfully uneventful and we all got out as if it was the most normal thing in the world. In reality I was nervous. Almost 4 years had passed since I was last Marcie in public, well in public for real not on tv that's different. I was sure I would get recognized, one as Marcie, or two as Mark in a dress. At first nothing happened when just crawled along looking into this or that shop. After spending about 30 minutes just choosing underwear we made it to the cashier. This is where it got a bit weird. The girl behind the till kept giving me strange looks. I was ok with that but moms 'Grab your bag Marcie' kinda put a stop to that.
"Oh my god! Your princess Marcie!" squeal. It was the wrong thing to say or do. Squeals are like the female distress call and therefore most of the girls rushed towards us. Many whispers of "Its really her" followed. It took the cashier two tries to run the items through. She had insisted that I get a discount. I also had to sign an autograph on a hastily torn book cover for her. I almost signed it 'Luvs and huggles Mark' but changed it to Marcie at the last second. Getting the girly hearts with dots took me a bit as I was definitely rusty.
I thought for sure a bunch of the girls would demand autographs as well but actually only three did as the rest ran off to parts unknown. We moved on to yet another store for more shopping and I finally understood that the wardrobe was for me for the next few days. I didn't really think I would need all that much but Mom, Stacy, and Gwen were in their element. They have this thing about it its like a fever overcomes them and they become like small girls in a candy store. Ones that have overdosed on too much sugar anyways.
As an example we had been in this store for all of 20 minutes and I had tried on ten outfits, only two of which were the same outfit just different colors. Which is fairly impressive when you consider the small store has only 5 racks in total. When I am interrupted by Patty from the agency. I certainly wasn't expecting her at all, she isn't in the loop, so I gave her the Marcie squeal and hug. I wasn't really all that thrilled to see her but put on a good act.
"Marcie you look so grown up now just look at you." she gushed. It was an effort to not roll my eyes.
"It must be my lucky day as we are just releasing your series on Dvd you have to come over for the promotion."
Uh oh...