Amidst a dreary empty studio, the camera flashes.  It captures an image.  The main highlight of the picture is, of course, the pretty young blonde haired lady with the pony tail in the center.  Wearing a lavish long red dress, or perhaps a yellow one holding a parasol, or maybe a simple white wedding dress, she smiles.  But just like the the flowers, lake, or church behind her, the smile is fake.  In reality, there is nothing behind her except a black cloth, which the editors of the picture will twist into whatever image they desire.  In reality, there is no happiness behind that smile.  Just a mask used to form an illusion of grandeur.
 

    "Negotiating with a demon was an interesting experience.  Some demons enjoyed being pampered and spoiled, others simply wanted to be asked sincerely.  Sometimes, just telling them a scary story would catch their interest.  You couldn't always act like yourself.  Many times, you had to put on a mask of deception, telling that demon that you dearly need him when you really don't.  Acting like a mother to them when you really would rather have nothing to do with such an "interesting" looking creature.  But after you got what you wanted, after that demon decided you were worthy to carry his spell card, you could take off the mask, and be your normal self again."

    The girls in the audience listened, enchanted, as she continued to tell them how, with the proper masks and negotiations, one could convince even the most evil of beings to agree with you.  Around the country, more girls would watch her on television.  But she didn't tell them what would happen if you forgot which mask was actually your true self.  She didn't know at the time.  There she was.  Ellen, a popular role-model of young female teenagers across the country.  They loved her stories of the Sebec incident, they loved her negotiation discussions, and they loved her down-to-earth attitude.  But they didn't really love her, did they?  They only loved the many masks and personas that she wore and talked about.  Because she was a model.  And none of those things had anything at all to do with modelling.  Modelling was Ellen's true self, after all.  Physical love was the only true love that existed.  If it were any different, than Ellen wouldn't have became a model in the first place.  Or at least that's what she thought.  Until that question...
 

    "Why did you become a model?  Why didn't you go to college instead?"

    It was a question that was never asked before.  Tons of interviews.  Hundreds of loyal fans.  And no one ever asked that question.  It wasn't until that invitation found its way to her that the question finally came up. An invitation to a High School reunion of sorts.  Not an official one, but Nate had the time and money for it, so...

    "Why did you become a model?  Why didn't you go to college instead?"

    Nate put the question bluntly.  And she didn't know the answer.  Why would he ask a question like that?  It was as if he was surprised at the way things worked out.  He probably was.  After some thought, Ellen realized she was surprised at the result, too.  After all, was she not intelligent?  Smart?  At the very least, she was eager to learn.  Constantly interested in the occult.  The out of the ordinary.  Always researching.  Studying abroad.  When did things fall apart?  Did things ever fall apart?  Perhaps not.  She was a very successful model, and a popular role-model to many.  Was she only imagining things?

    No.  Somewhere, she had gotten lost.  Maybe it was the cause of a broken heart.  No, a broken heart was not the correct term.  She didn't know the exact answer, but whatever it was, it wasn't a good one.  "Well, it just didn't seem right to me."  She lied to Nate.
 

    Ellen looked at the letter in front of her.  It was a letter from her agent.  A man she didn't know.  Sure, she was aquainted with his outer persona, but she didn't know nor care for the true man within, whoever it was.  He was simply known to her as her agent.  Simply a method of which to find the next shoot, the next job, the next goal.  And to him, she was simply another client.  Another monthly paycheck given to him.

    An offer.  To model for Athletes Illustrated.  Swimsuit Issue.  Bikinis.  Two-pieces and nothing more.  A far cry from the fashion model which she currently was.  Of course, her agent had wisely attached a small note at the end saying she didn't have to accept it.  She wanted to keep it from degenerating into this.  To never become a simple object.  A beautiful face and body and nothing else.  But that reunion made her think.  There really was not any difference.  It was just another type of mask.  She already was a fake.  She already was nothing.  Nothing more than an object.  There was no difference between being a fashion model wearing elegant gowns to being a swimsuit model wearing nearly nonexistant pieces of cloth.  She wrote a letter back saying that she would accept the job.

    What was so wrong with being a swimsuit model?  Before, Ellen thought that it was too gratuitous.  That to become one would make her lose her identity as a persona.  No, as a person.  To become one would have been admitting defeat.  That despite all of her intellect, all of her research, and all of her skills were truly nothing.  That she was really nothing more but a beautiful sex object, which exists to please the eyes of men.

    Back in Highschool, Ellen was popular for two reasons.  Many were attracted to her inquisitive and eager personality.  However, many were also ready to admit that they liked her for an exotic face.  In foreign lands, Ellen had dabbled in the beauty methods of many separate cultures.  She was partially concerned about the way she looked, of course, but it was more for the joy of venturing into the unknown, trying out new forms of make-up which she could never access at home.  When Ellen had come back from studying abroad, people were shocked at how beautiful she looked.  Boys were enchanted.  Girls were envious.

    The Sebec incident was the last time she embraced the unknown.  Somewhere, after that, she had decided to concentrate on her looks more than her mind.  The boys were still enchanted.  The girls were still envious.  Nothing would change if she were to pose wearing nearly nothing as compared to what she was currently doing.
 

    "Are you all right?"

    "........"

    "What?  Is something wrong with me asking if you are okay?  Or does it make you feel uncomfortable?"

    Maybe the problem started during the Sebec incident and not afterwards.  Ellen was attracted to the unknown.  If it had any hint of mystery, she was interested in it.  She had first come along to help stop Guido because she wanted to learn.  Learn about demons, learn about the Sebec corporation, and to learn about what was going on.

    Probably, the problem started when she fell in love.  And what was more intrigueing than human beings, themselves?  What was more unknown than emotion?  What could be more mysterious than HIM?  There he was, all the time, fearlessly pressing onward.  Everyone liked him, yet he was an enigma to all.  Rarely ever speaking, rarely ever showing any signs of emotion besides seriousness.

    And yet she had to fall in love with him.

    Too bad she wasn't the only one.

    Did he love Mary more?  It was hard to tell.  He rarely showed any signs of anything.  But something always seemed to be pulling the two together.  Ellen realized that when he and Mary were the only ones allowed to enter the pool of mind and souls.  Why did it have to be Mary?  That was just one of many mysteries where she would never find the answer.  But one thing was for certain.  He and Mary were truly meant to be together.
 

    Ellen was wearing a simple grey dress, a tie, and a piece of red cloth tied into a bow around her neck.  It was, in fact, the same uniform she wore in Saint Hermelin High.  It didn't look too odd.  After all, it's only been a year since she graduated.  It was amazing how quickly she became a famous and successful model.  How quickly her life fell apart.

    She looked around the beach.  It was certainly more colorful than the drab studios that she modelled in, but it did not have the glamour of the fashion shows that she was the spotlight of.  But like the studio and the fashion shows, it was just a mask.  This beach was empty.  It wasn't a public beach where kids would frolic and play, and pale woman would develop skin cancer while trying to get a tan.  It was a private secluded area of a beach used to give off an illusion of a real one while retaining enough privacy to keep away from the public.

    And then there were the swimsuit models.  Many of them were already dressed.  Or perhaps a better term was undressed.  The cameras were already taking shots of several of them, in all sorts of varied poses and facial expressions.  The emotions that these masks were supposed to illicit was obvious.  They were meant to arouse.  Meant to be provocative.

    It didn't matter.  It was just another ruse.  Another illusion.  No different than anything else.  And yet, as she entered the dressing room and stared at what she would be wearing, she couldn't bear to think about what sort of poses and facial expressions she would be required to wear during the camera shoot.
 

    Love was an illusion.  That could be the only thing that could explain it.  That's what Ellen realized when she found out.  That's why she didn't take the chance when she found out that Mary had another boyfriend.  There was no such thing as love.  Here was a couple meant to be together.  Mary had loved him.  That was Ellen's conclusion when he told her what happened in the pool of mind and souls.

    "I didn't want him to see me like this."  Those were the true Mary's words when he found out.  She didn't want him to know that the Sebec incident happened to her.  That she was crying for his attention.  She loved him so much that she created her own paradise for him.

    So, why did it not happen?  After it was all over, Mary got a boyfriend.  A new boyfriend.  But it wasn't him.
 

    Ellen looked at herself in her hand mirror, then held the bikini against herself.  Her self-respect was slowly draining away.  Sure, maybe she should have been proud of herself.  Proud that she was beautiful.  But how could she be?

    "Why didn't you go to college instead?"

    How could she have been proud of herself when she could have been much more?  She could have been a lawyer, a politician, an inventor, a professor.  She could have been a real role-model for people, instead of the false role-model she was now, who's only purpose was to look beautiful and make everyone else envious of it.

    But she had become interested in learning about love.  She wanted to find true love.  And when she found out that true love did not exist, she had to settle for the mask of physical love, instead.  It was proven to her that it was the only form of love that human beings could get.  She couldn't do it to get him, though.  At the makeshift reunion, she couldn't even bring herself to talk to him.  He probably wouldn't have responded, anyway.  He rarely does, and when he did say something, it's always as if he was just brushing her off.

    When her agent found her and told her that she would make the perfect model, she put "him" out of her mind and agreed, never admitting to herself that it was a mistake.  Until now, but by now it was too late to go back.

    A swimsuit model.  Just another step.  What would be next?  Perhaps wearing nothing at all.  And then?  Pornography, of course.  When would it stop?  It wouldn't.  Not until years from now, when Ellen might finally get fed up and just down a ton of sleeping pills and put an end to her hell.  Not that she knew if he looked at those types of magazines, but what would he think if he were to find his angel as the centerfold?  He wouldn't stop her.  He doesn't even know where she is and what she's doing, right now.  He might even have forgotten about her already.
 

    Wearing a scanty two-piece.  More flashing cameras.  Laying back her head.  Shouts of encouragement.  Basking in the sun of the beach.  Just one of many sexy swimsuit models who are meant to please.  It shouldn't have been wrong.  There was nothing wrong with entertainment, was there?  It wasn't fully x-rated pornography, yet.  But again, she could have been so much more.  Well, might as well make the most of it, since there was no turning back.  Posing in a series of exotic postures which can't even begin to be described, yet everything would still be the same.  The boys would continue to be enchanted.  The girls would continue to be envious.

    Well, instead of enchanted, the boys would probably want to have sex with her instead.

    And of course, since she was nothing more than a sex object anyway, instead of the proud inquisitive student always looking to the horizon that she used to be, when some random handsome man approached her, she would comply.  She would look at the man in the eyes, and see nothing.  There would be no true intimacy in the event.  As he held her, there would be nothing but physical passion.  And Ellen would smile.  And once again there would be no true feelings behind that smile.  Was that true love?  It was the closest thing that she could think of.  Oh, and HE wouldn't stop her.  HE could not save her now.  As they kissed, the man would reach behind her.
 

    The bikini slammed against the wall.

    Ellen looked in the mirror and wondered about her decision to not wear it.  Waiting outside the dressing room was her agent.  He was a only a little surprised about her decision to not be a swimsuit model, but was completely shocked when she told him that she was giving up on modelling as a whole.  "Why?" he asked.  She had such a gift.  Such a wonderful gift of beauty.  It would be such a shame to not share it with the rest of the world.

    It would be such a shame to not share what else Ellen had to offer with the rest of the world.

    So she was entering college a little late.  It didn't matter.  Maybe... just maybe she would see him again.  Maybe by some unexplainable mystery, she would just happen to choose to go to the same college as him, or meet him later in life.  One thing was for sure, if she ever got that chance, she certainly wouldn't throw it away and get another boyfriend.

    And if she didn't?  That's okay.  Life would go on, anyway.  Ellen still didn't know about the existance of true love, or destiny, or anything of the sort.  Maybe she would meet someone else who would be perfect for her.  Maybe not.  Maybe she even had made the right choice all along, but didn't realize it.  No, that wasn't it.  She felt right, this time.  There was no guilt.  There wouldn't be any hiding behind a mask of beauty and choosing physical love over emotional.

    Then again... it was summer.  He would bound to be home from college, wouldn't he?  It's not like she didn't know his address.
 

    Ellen went back at Lunarville.  Her parents welcomed her back into the house with open arms.  It took her a while to bring herself to pick up the phone and dial his number.  But three rings later, he picked it up.

    "Yea, it's me.  I've decided to take a vacation off.  Maybe permanantly.  I didn't think it was the right thing for me.  I'm sorry I didn't talk to you back at the reunion.  You didn't notice?  ......Well, I guess that's okay.  Really?  You would?  Great!  Of course I don't mind!  Joy Street Peace Diner in two hours?  Of course, I'll be there!

    Ellen smiled then went back to work.  After typing up another application, Ellen looked in her hand mirror, reapplied some skin lotion to her face, washed her hands, then sat down and started typing again.  She wanted to look great for when she saw him.

    Well, it was nice to have the intellect back.  But that didn't mean Ellen shouldn't care about how she looked, anymore.  Two things.  Beauty and intellect.  Why have one when you can have both?  It would be a shame to let either go wasted.