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incredulous look. “Multiplatinum, kiddie-rock band?”
    “Sorry.” I sling my purse strap over my shoulder and head for the door.
    “TV show on the Kidz Network?” she asks, following me. “Still in production.”
    “Doesn’t sound familiar.” I wind my way around the tables and then open the door, praying she won’t come after me. I just want to find Mom and Dad and see if we got the job—although at this point I’m hoping Mr. Harker made a better impression and we can move on.
    Kiki follows me out. “Cut the shit.
Everyone
knows The Disco Unicorns.” She looks up at me and taps her foot impatiently on the sidewalk while humming the tune to “Puppy Parade.”
    Why me?
    Folding my arms across my chest I say the first thing that comes to mind that might get Kiki Crusher out of my face. “Oh, wait,” I say as if the idea has just come to me. “Isn’t that the band
Sugar LeBlanc
sings with?”
    Kiki’s eyes widen and she takes a few steps backward.“You’re fucking kidding me, right? That bitch can’t
sing
for shit!”
    She looks really upset and I remind myself that just because I don’t have a life doesn’t mean I have to take it out on innocent bystanders—no matter how trashy they are. “Sorry,
Maybelle
, but if it makes you feel better I always thought you were way better than Sugar and her deranged
Joker
smile.”
    She doubles over laughing and grabs a street sign post to keep from falling. “Ha! I
knew
you recognized me.” She looks conspiratorially around and then brings a finger to her lips. “Shhhh. Let me tell you a secret…. What’s your name?”
    “Daphne. Daphne Van Helsing.”
    She laughs again—like my name is any stupider than either one of hers. “Well,
Daphne
, Sugar LeBitch lip-synched to a blend of both of our vocals. Hers weren’t good enough to go it alone, but don’t tell anyone or the record label will send a hit man after us.”
    Despite all the things I’ve seen and heard in my life I still find this shocking news. “But why wouldn’t you just do the singing? I mean, your parents are the lead singers!”
    She seems to deflate on the spot. “The producers didn’t think I was photogenic enough. And long story short, my parents agreed.” She runs her fingers through her hairand takes another step back. “You know what—I’m not feeling so good. I think I should go home.”
    “What about your friend inside?”
    “Eh, I don’t feel like dealing with him with tonight—he never calls afterward anyway.” She shakes her head. “Asshole.” Kiki takes one more step back and goes over the curb, landing on her butt in the street. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” she mutters as I rush over to help her up.
    I pull her back to her feet and she pushes me away. “I’m
fine
! I don’t need any help!”
    “You’re bleeding,” I say eyeing her elbow. Drops of blood well up where her skin scraped the pavement. I do a quick scan up and down the street. If South Bristol is attracting vamps it’s most likely newbies who are ravenous and Kiki Crusher is now chum. I reach into my purse and put one hand on a stake. “Let me walk you out.”
    She cradles her elbow with one hand and shakes her head. “You don’t have to. I don’t even know why I came out after you. Too much to drink, I guess.”
    She heads toward the alleyway and this time I’m following her. I have to make sure she gets to her car okay. “Um, tell me more about Sugar.” As soon as the words leave my mouth I wish I’d thought of something less painful to ask about. God, my social skills are abysmal, but it’s not like I’ve had much opportunity to fine-tune them.
    Kiki stops and looks back at me. “Sugar was dimples and blue eyes, and I was big-nose, mousy hair, and weight issues. Having craft services laying out all that junk food on set every day didn’t help with that. But the advertisers said kids weren’t buying my action figure because I was chubby, and a focus group concluded a cuter kid would