[You need to give it up….Had about enough…It's not hard to see…The boy is mine…I'm sorry that you…Seem to be confused….He belongs to me…The boy is mine…Think it's time we got this straight…Let's sit and talk face to face…There is no way you could mistake…Him for your man, are you insane…]

Saga Eglasca is at home in her bedroom. It is a small room with a plain bed and blue-grey walls with various posters of boy bands and male models. She is listening to a Brandy CD as she gets ready for Ryan Blaisedelle’s party. She has picked out a patchwork top and blue-panel mini. The outfit accents her body and she is almost certain that it will be popular with all of the guys at the party. While she’d like to grab all of the attention of all of the boys tonight, there is only one that she wants. Only one that will make her life complete and that is Briggs Origen.

Saga begins doing her hair and singing along with the song. "It’s not hard to see…the boy is mine…" She doesn’t hear her Mother come into her room.

"Saga. Saga! Saga," says Claudia. Claudia turns the volume down on the CD player.

"The boy is mine without a doubt….You might as well throw in the towel," Saga sings loudly.

"Saga!"

"Mom?"

"Yes. Do you like that song or something? Where’s you brother?"

"He was here when I got home," says Saga.

"He’s not here now," says Claudia.

"I don’t know where he went," says Saga. "Hey Mom, what do you think of this outfit?"

"It’s pretty dear."

"Pretty or hot?"

"How about pretty hot?"

"I can live with that."

"Don’ forget your curfew," says Claudia.

"Mom, I won’t have anytime at the party," says Saga.

"Then make the most of the time you do have." Claudia kisses her daughter on the forehead. "I’m going to see if your brother is outside."

"Hey Mom, who’s the girl that came to party on the helicopter?"

"Girl? Oh. Rachel. Rachel Ontkeen. Her mother is Pamela DeLongpre."

"How long are they staying?"

"I don't know."

"Is she pretty?"

"Rachel?"

"Yeah."

"She's a beautiful girl."

"How beautiful?" Claudia looks at her daughter suspiciously.
"All right, why all the questions about Rachel?"

"Just curious."

"She's beautiful -- very pretty."

"Blonde?"

"Yes"

"Natural?"

"From what I can tell."

"I wonder if she has any friends here?"

"She's never been to Persephone Pointe. This is her first time here. Pamela has been away for years."

"Why?"

"Long story. Too long to get into now."

"Maybe Rachel needs a friend while she's in town," says Saga.

"You don't have a lot of girlfriends, I think it'd be nice if you introduced yourself to Rachel, if being friends is what this is about," says Claudia suspiciously.

"What are you suggesting Mother?"

"Do you want me to spell it out?"

"Ok."

"If you want to be this girl's friend… then fine, but I hope there isn't some kind of hidden agenda," says Claudia pointedly.

"Mom, when have you ever known me to have a hidden agenda?" Claudia raises her eyebrow at her daughter. "Wanting to be friends with the new girl is a good thing, right? There's no hidden agenda -- there's no hidden agenda at all."

____________________________________________

[I like it when the beat goes da na da na….Baby make your booty go da na da na…Girl I know you wanna show da na da na….That thong th thong thong thong…I like it when the beat goes da na da na….Baby make your booty go da na da na….Girl I know you wanna show da na da na….That thong th thong thong thong]

Emery Origen has just finished getting ready for Ryan

Blaisedelle's party. He stuffs two twenties into the pocket of his oversized cargo shorts. He will give one of those twenties to a guy that will buy him beer from one of the local convenience stores. He plans to get a twelve pack of a good brand for himself, and a bottle of cheap wine for his friend Saga.

Around Emery's room there are posters of rap artists and scantily clad models, much to the chagrin of his Mother, who just tells him to keep the door closed. His room is in sharp contrast to that of his brother Briggs' room. There are clothes on the floor, jewel cases, dirty socks, shoes and everything else imaginable. Emery's room is also outfitted with a state of the art computer, a twenty-five inch TV, a DVD player, a Dreamcast, and an incredible sound system, which is currently blasting Sisqo's Thong Song.

He gets his ATM card, his driver's license and keys, turns his CD player off, checks himself in the mirror, one last time, and leaves his room. When he gets downstairs he sees his Father about to walk out of the door. Quentin Origen turns around to see his son running down the stairs.

"Where's the fire?"

"I've gotta get going," says Emery.

"Big date?" Asks Quentin.

"Big party."

"Have fun, stay out of trouble, and wear a condom."

"Should I say the same to you Dad?" Emery asks.

"Should I ground you until you're 18 for that smart mouth of yours?"

"Sorry," says Emery. Even though Briggs is Quentin's favorite son, Emery is the one most like him.

"Do you need any money?"

"Mom put cash in my account this morning."

"All right, remember what I said."

"Yes sir."

"Is your brother going to be at this party?"

"Who knows?"

"If you see him, remind him that he's caddying tomorrow."

"Yes sir." Quentin looks at his son's choice of outfit, especially the oversized pants.

"Exactly how do you keep those pants up?"

"They just stay up," Emery replies. Quentin turns out the lights and lets Emery out of the door first. He shuts the door, but doesn't lock it. Quentin and Emery get into separate cars and leave.

___________________________________________

[If I fell along the way… pick me up and dust me off… and if I get to tired to make it… be my breath so I can walk… If I need some other love… me more than I can stand…and when my smile gets old and faded… wait around I'll smile again…]

Ian Montgomery and Briggs Origen are in the Origen Catering van headed towards Briggs’ Mom’s catering shop to drop off the van and pick up Ian’s car.

"Turn this up," says Briggs.

"Why?" Ian asks.

"I like this song," says Briggs. Ian turns up the radio volume. "They’re gonna be at the Coliseum in September."

"By then maybe you’ll know the mystery girl and you can take her."

"Now I know why we’re best friends — we think alike."

"Well we’ll find out tomorrow who that girl is, then the rest is up to you," says Ian.

"I-dawg, there’s something about her, something — something special."

[If I couldn't sleep could you sleep… could you paint me better off… could you sympathize with my needs… I know you think I need a lot…]

"Well I hope you find out what that something special is," says Ian.

"You and me both I-dawg… you and me both…"

_________________________________________

[When you were here before… couldn't look you in the eye…you're just like an angel…your skin makes me cry… you float like a feather… in a beautiful world… I wish I was special…so very special…]

Rachel DeLongpre Ontkeen is lying on a strange bed, in a strange house, in a strange place that she’s only heard about in stories her Mother used to tell her before bedtime. Rachel is calmer now, but she hasn’t completely forgotten the earlier events at the pond. She still remembers the feel of that dead body on her foot and the memory sends shivers up and down her spine. She has put on a Radiohead CD and has taken out her journal to write about her first night in Persephone Pointe.

[I don't care if it hurts… I want to have control… I want a perfect body… I want a perfect soul… I want you to notice… when I'm not around]

There are so many thoughts running through her head and she’s not certain if she wants to put them all down on paper. She does, however, want to write about the mystery boy. The tall, blond boy with the soulful eyes and strong arms.

She throws her journal unto her bed and turns the volume of the CD player up another notch. She then gets on the bed, opens the journal to the first blank page following her last entry and begins to write.

[What the hell am I doing here… I don't belong here… She's running out the door… she's running… she run, run, run, run, run… whatever makes you happy…whatever you want… you're so very special… I wish I was special…]

_______________________________________

[Pack it up, pack it in… Let me begin… I came to win… Battle me that's a sin…I won't tear the sack up… Punk you'd better back up… Try and play the role and the whole crew will act up… Get up, stand up, come on… Come on, throw your hands up…If you've got the feeling jump across the ceiling…]

Ryan Blaisedelle’s party is going at full blast. The music is loud, beer is flowing, and underaged teens are enjoying their youth by pretending they’re adults. The kids are flirting, dancing, swimming, and a good time is being had by all. Ryan Blaisedelle stands on roof of his parent’s pool-house like a ringmaster, with a redhead on his right arm and a brunette on his left, watching the youthful circus below, gyrating to the beat of the music and cheering on the debauchery. "Jump around… jump around, hey it’s time to get down," screams Ryan. "Jump. Jump. Jump…." The crowd joins on in. "Jump. Jump. Jump. Jump. Jump."

Emery and Saga arrive at the party. Emery grabs the cooler out of trunk.

"Do you want your wine now?" He asks Saga.

"Yeah," she says.

"Well the party is wide open," says Emery moving his head to the beat and handing Saga the bottle of cheap wine.

"Tonight’s gonna be good Em. Real good."

"Did you call the Tarot hotline and get a reading or something?"

"I just feel it in my bones. Tonight is the night when everything changes. Tonight is the night when your brother makes me a woman."

"Don’t you have to be a man, to make someone a woman?" Emery asks sarcastically.

"Oh your brother is a man all right and after tonight, I’m going to be his woman."

[And just like the Prodigal Son I've returned… Anyone stepping to me you'll get burned… I came to get down… I came to get down… So get out your seats and jump around…Jump around… Jump around… Jump around… Jump up Jump up and get down…Jump. Jump. Jump. Jump. Jump. Jump.]

This Has Been

Persephone Pointe

The events and characters depicted in Persephone Pointe are fictitious. Any similarities to actual persons, living or dead, or events is purely coincidental.

ALL BRAND NAMES ARE USED FICTIOUSLY

The actors, credited, are used for illustrative purposes only and are in no way affiliated with Persephone Pointe, its writers or producers.

Join us again Tomorrow for the Continuing Story of Persephone Pointe.

PERSEPHONE POINTE

Is a Presentation of

January First Productions

©2000

All Rights Reserved