Once-upon-a-time there was a handsome prince. He wasn’t the same kind of Prince that you and I think of. He was the Prince of Rock. He was a good person with a heart of gold. However, overtime he let all the fame a glory of being an overnight sensation get to his head. He became prideful and selfish. He drank too much and hurt all those who were close to him, and he didn’t care. His heart of gold had been tarnished and while it was still there it was hard to find.

The band the Prince was in had developed a following during their rise to fame. However, one of these faithful fans noticed the change and was angered by the behavior of the Prince. It hurt the fan to see that this Prince had lost the heart and passion for the music. This faithful fan was unlike the others; he came from the Court of the Fey. He had come to the conclusion that it was his mission to not only save the mortal Prince but to save the music as well. What better way than to mix up some mischief along the way?

One night after a show the Prince retired to his private dressing room. It was there that the imp was waiting.

“Prince,” The imp said from his perch on the couch. “You are lost. You’ve lost your good heart and you’re not only killing yourself but the music as well. So, I’m cursing you.” A wicked Cheshire-cat grin spread across his nearly human features and added a sparkle to his feline-like eyes.

“What? Who are you?” The Prince sputtered.

The imp plucked a rose from a vase on the vanity. “No one will like you, no one of importance. They will all tolerate you but they won’t love you as they do now. Not your fellow band members not your family. You will be an outcast. Whatever creativity you have will wither and die. The songs you sing will no longer be yours and you will sink further into this hole you’ve dug for yourself.”

“No,” The Prince’s voice came out as a horse whisper. “I can change. I can fix it.”

“It’s too late for that now. I will grant you this hope however. The only way to break the curse so to find someone who you love, who brings back the passion you had for the music. She must love you in return, despite your fame and the baggage you now carry. She must love you for you and must do so unconditionally.”

The man was speechless and stood helplessly as the imp vanished in the blink of an eye.

As the guitar slipped from the Prince’s fingers he felt the life he knew slipping away. As time wore on the band, the closest thing he had to a family, lost respect for him and barely tolerated him. The Prince in turn lost himself to an all-consuming anger. Angry that his mind was empty, that he couldn’t write anything, no lyrics, no music, nothing. He was angry that no matter how hard he tired everything got worse. And angry that he had lost himself to drugs; drugs that offered him his only relief of the pain and were also one of his heaviest burdens.

His once good heart was still there. It was just trapped and no matter what he did, he couldn’t free it.

Well, it’s not “Once-upon-a-time” anymore…

“Alright interns,” Mr. Morrison said from behind his desk as he shuffled a stack of papers in front of him. He glanced up at the six interns that stood on the opposite side of his desk. “We’ve got a big case on the line. Our client is being charged with possession of various illegal substances along with some other minor charges.

“Now, usually we don’t stick all our inters on one case. However, this client is very important and the case will be getting a lot of attention from the media. Also, it is very crucial to the firm since we’ve hit hard times recently.”

“Whose the client?” One of the three female interns, Meg, asked.

“Malcolm Harrison, as in the lead….”

A deafening chorus of squeals came from Meg and Mary.

“From The Jackals!” They shouted in perfect unison. Bee winced from where she stood. It was bad enough she was stuck on the Harrison case, but Meg and Mary would be five times more difficult to get along with now. They already didn’t like Bee because she was the best intern by far. She couldn’t help it if she liked to read. It was her passion. While normal girls spent their weekends out on the town Bee preferred to look at books containing old reference cases and she even liked to dabble in other subjects. Like psychology and internal medicine. Sometimes she even enjoyed some light reading like War and Peace. With this passion came a vast knowledge of many subjects but mostly an expansive knowledge of the law. Meg and Mary would always make snide comments to Bee when one of the senior partners gave Bee any praise. Now, add the fact that she hated The Jackals; they were going to think she was even more of a freak than ever.

Sometimes all Bee wanted was to fit in.

“Most of you will be working on the case from here in the office with me and Mr. Lennon. After looking over the case thus far there seem to be a lot of holes in the evidence so we will need all the help we can get on this one. However, we’re sending one of you to be with Mr. Harrison to do some PR work and make sure he doesn’t do anything else that may compromise his defense.”

It was almost as if the room was holding its breath with the interns in anticipation.

Please not me, Bee chanted in her head. Books, I can do. I can research and fill in holes. Had she been paying more attention to the flicker she thought she saw out of the corner of her eye, Bee might have seen feline eyes and a Cheshire-like smile disappear in the books that packed the shelves.

“Ms. Tyler.” Bee’s stomach dropped and one word echoed through her mind. Shit. “You’ll be working with Mr. Harrison. Usually you’d be shadowing me or another lawyer under normal circumstances. However, I trust you, as do the senior partners, and we feel that you have the knowledge to handle the client.” Bee had to resist the urge to shiver as she felt the icky glares of Meg and Mary boring into her.

“Thank you Mr. Morrison,” Bee said, a slight blush creeping up into her cheeks. Praise from Mr. Morrison always made Bee feel better. He was like a father to her now and it made her happy to know he was proud of her.

As Bee and the other interns took a copy of the case file from Mr. Morrison the boys congratulated her.

“Good job Bee!” John exclaimed, a smile brightening up his face.

“You deserve the field experience,” George said in his soft voice. “You’re the smartest one of us.”

“Dude, I’m sure if you took the BAR today you’d pass,” Paul said as the group filed out of Mr. Morrison’s office.

“I think Meg and Mary wanted it more though. I don’t mind all the reading.” Bee attempted to send apologetic looks at Meg and Mary. She suppressed a sigh as all she got in return was the icy wind from their cold shoulders.

“ Yeah well, A: they’d try and rape him or something and that’s be a whole new law case for us to deal with,” Paul said.

“Not to mention more trouble for the firm.” George interjected. “Anything could tip the scale at this point and then we’d have to apply for new internships.”

“And B: You have no life Bee. Forgive me for being blunt…”

“When are you not?” John snickered. Paul glared at John before continuing.

“But you spend way too much time reading. Not only will the experience be killer for your record, but you need to get out more.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a dork.” Bee was about to launch into a full-blown bicker-fest with Paul before John jumped in.

“Why do you think Malcolm picked this firm anyway? There are more well known firms in New York that deal with these kind of cases more often.”

Bee shrugged and then sent another icy glare at Paul. She loved her fellow interns, the boys at least, they were like her brothers and while she didn’t join them at the bar on Friday nights she still thought of them as her best friends.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe Mr. Morrison’s business card just appeared in his dressing room one day.” They all laughed, and Bee chewed on her bottom lip like she always did when she was nervous.

“You should probably head on over to the Beast’s place. I hear he’s got one fiery temper and if this case file is any indication he’s going through as many minor offences as I do cups of coffee in a day,” Paul said with false cheeriness.

“Oh, joy.” Bee rolled her eyes before waving to the boys and ducking into the ‘office’ she shared with Meg and Mary.

“It’s not fair,” Meg snapped.

“It should’ve been one of us,” Mary chimed in. “You’re just a goody-two-shoes and a suck up.”

There is no way that Malcolm could be anymore more of a beast than Meg and Mary. If that’s the case I might just be able to handle it, Bee thought to herself as she got her briefcase ready and headed out to the company car.

“So, just to give you a heads up,” Blondie, the ironically redheaded, band manager said as she lead Bee through a maze of hallways. “Malcolm doesn’t look as…” She paused as if looking for a sugarcoated version of the reality that Bee was about to face. “Healthy, as he used to.”

Bee nodded even though Blondie couldn’t see it. “He’s been fighting off various addictions and his body’s been taking a toll for it.” Suddenly Blondie stopped and Bee almost ran into her. The carrot-top turned around and smiled warmly.

“Just don’t take what he says too personally,” Blondie warned. “He’s not the same man he once was. He lets his temper get the best of him, but he’s not a bad person.”

Bee shifted her weight from one foot to the other nervously and resisted the urge to chew on her bottom lip. “That’s what we’re trying to prove.”

“I know, just be careful around him.”

“I’m not scared,” Bee said with more confidence than she really felt. At this rate however I might just fall over dead from shear nervousness. If these are supposed to be words of comfort at all its really not working.

Blondie patted Bee on the shoulder before continuing down the labyrinth of halls. It wasn’t long before they were standing outside his personal dressing room. A thunderous voice raged from behind the door. Bee jumped as the door flew open with a bang; the doorknob even leaving a dent in the wall. A young woman ran out, white as a sheet and tears streaming down her face. A plate of brownies came soaring out of the room after her and shattered against the wall next to Bee, causing her to jump at least three feet in the air.

“Scared yet?” Blondie asked before she strode into the room. Bee hesitated a moment before she followed her in.

“Malcolm, you need to learn to control your temper.”

Bee was shocked when she entered the room, not just at the trashed appearance but also mostly as the man who was fuming, pacing in front of a rose-red couch.

“She made me brownies with nuts! What kind of personal assistant doesn’t know I’m allergic to nuts? And what kind-a ‘biggest fan’ doesn’t know for that matter either?” A scowl worked its way up onto Malcolm’s face, distorting what good looks that may have survived the drug addiction. “I hate stupid people!”

“That doesn’t justify reducing her to tears and throwing the brownies at her,” Blondie replied calmly. “Well Ms. Tyler, you might need to warn your firm that there is a strong possibility that another charge may be added to Malcolm’s track record.”

Malcolm spun around and Bee got a good view of the living rock legend. Words seemed to fall short he looked so horrible. Dark circles under his eyes looked like huge bruises and his skin was so pale it was almost translucent. And he was so skinny. Bee wondered if you could still see him when he turned sideways. All in all it made Bee want to cry.

Then he opened his mouth.

“Who the hell are you?” Malcolm shouted.

“She’s here from the law firm that’s trying to get your ass out of the fire,” Blondie answered as she plopped down on the couch. “This is Bee Tyler. Ms. Tyler, this is Malcolm Harrison.”

“Please call me Bee,” She said as she extended her hand out to Malcolm, who in turn scowled and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well what’s she doing here?”

That was close enough to the last straw for Bee. She didn’t like his attitude at all and she didn’t like being ignored. This guy needs a reality check in a bad way. I heard this guy was a beast but this is ridiculous, Bee thought before she snapped out, “I get the fantastic joy of babysitting you.”

“Babysitter?” Malcolm roared as he fixed a withering glare on Bee.

“Yes, babysitter,” Bee answered rather calmly, not fazed by his glare. “And it looks like you need one. Do you realize all you’ve done and all of what you’re being charged of? You’re case file is about as long as ‘War and Peace’ and you add more to it everyday. Possession of illegal substances, more DUI’s than I can count, assault charges, stealing, and public displays of violence, along with some public displays of nudity, vandalism. The list goes on and on!”

“And what do you propose I do about it?” Malcolm advanced on Bee, his eyes flashing and his body tense as if he were about to pounce.

“Exhibit some self-controlled for one.”

Malcolm punched the wall next to him before he began to rant and rave again.

“And you’ve got to control your temper for another!” Bee shouted. “You’re a man, not a wild animal!”

Bee had never met anyone like Malcolm. He was, loud, rude, angry, selfish, self-destructive…the list went on and on. However, there was a sadness and an overwhelming sense of pain that flooded his eyes.

“You don’t understand! No one understands!” Malcolm shouted before he collapsed on the couch next to Blondie.

The tension was suffocating. Bee wanted to gasp for fresh, clean air. She felt as if this air was polluted, saturated with so much anger and pain.

“Well, it seems like you two are going to get along amazingly.” Blondie said, fake cheeriness obvious in her voice. She missed the melting glares that both Bee and Malcolm sent her as she glanced at her watch. “I’ll leave you two at it then. I’ve got a meeting to get to across town. Bee if you need anything you’ve got my cell number.”

With that Blondie strode out of the room. And the tension didn’t leave with her. The two stared each other down for a bit.

“Don’t they usually send an adult to do this sort of thing? Or at least someone to supervise?” The edge in Malcolm’s voice was softer somehow.

“Yeah, usually I’d be shadowing Mr. Morrison, he’s the one who’s mostly covering your case with one of the senior partners. But your case has so much paperwork, so everyone is at the office trying to sort it all out. I got to be your PR rep or whatever. I’m the intern that has the most promise.”

“Impressive.” Malcolm ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair and took in a shuttering breath, “So is my case really that bad?”

Bee uncrossed her arms and crossed the room towards the fallen rock star.

“I haven’t read it all through yet but it could go either way. The only stuff they have solid evidence for is the drug use and possession. However, given your status the best scenario is for you to pay a fine and do some community service. Worst case…” Bee didn’t feel as if she needed to continue.

Malcolm nodded and didn’t say anything. Bee noticed that his hands began to shake before he hastily stood up and shoved them into his pockets. Whether or not to steady them or hide them from Bee, she wasn’t sure.

“Well let’s go,” Malcolm’s voice was gruff. “I want some damn brownies.”

Bee rolled her eyes and followed Malcolm out the door.

During the course if the day Bee had to intervene about twenty different times. Malcolm had such a short temper and once he got started he just kept going. If there was a good side to Malcolm, like Blondie had said, his anger was what kept Bee from seeing anything more. The more time Bee spent with him, the more she began to realize that Malcolm didn’t hate the world, but himself.

That wasn’t an excuse though. She pitied him but she didn’t like him or want to have anything to do with him. If what Blondie said was true, Bee was going to need a lot more convincing.

Through the next few days and on into the next few weeks Bee spent nearly every waking moment with Malcolm. Early on he had even taken her to his penthouse apartment and given her a room. When Bee first saw the place she was beyond stunned. There were fresh cut roses everywhere. The smell of them was a sweet perfume that was slightly intoxicating and made her slightly light headed.

“Making sure I don’t do anything stupid is a twenty-four hour job,” he had said with a shrug as he showed Bee her own room. “The place is yours. Live it up while you’re here. Anything you want or need just lemme know and I can get it for you.”

“But its your house,” Bee had said.

“Look,” Bee had been able to see that Malcolm was fighting off his temper. “All this stuff, its not important. It’s a constant reminder of what I’ve become…”

“Even the roses?”

“No, those are a reminder of what I was before…” Malcolm trailed off, his voice dripping with grief. “It’s your house as long as you’re here.” At that he had stormed out of the room and slammed the door.

It wasn’t until about a month into the job did Bee begin to see what Blondie had been talking about. They’d always have dinner together and most of the time Malcolm was pretty well behaved. It became a more rare occurrence that his anger got the best of him. Generally when his fiery temper began to blaze the two would fight until Malcolm would stomp off and bang things around in his room.

One night, it was a few hours before dinner and Bee was sitting Indian-style on “her” bed. The case file and various reference books were spread out around her and it was near impossible to see the bright red comforter underneath it all. She chewed on her bottom lip as she read through the case file for what felt like the millionth time. For the love of God I have the stupid thing memorized, Bee mused to herself. But something still didn’t add up. Everyone had been bending over backwards to fill in the holes and nothing was coming together. The charges filed against Malcolm didn’t match up with the evidence at all. None of it was fitting together and the court date was quickly approaching.

Frustrated, Bee threw her the case file back on the bed and her highlighter down with it. Letting out an aggravated noise Bee buried her face in her hands and began to wonder if she should’ve picked med school instead.

The sweet sounds of a ballad floated into Bee’s room. Her head snapped up and she realized that Malcolm hadn’t played the guitar since she’s been there. Or, if he had he had made sure she hadn’t heard. Bee tiptoed down the hall towards Malcolm’s room. The door was half way open and she could see him perched on a stool with his guitar. He was in the moment. All the ugliness about him seemed to melt away; it was as if he was baring his soul. She no longer saw the broken man she had gotten to know but saw who he really was inside.

Then he began to sing. The words and the music wrapped around Bee and she felt what he felt. The song was twisted with pain and she could feel the anguish that plagued every waking moment. He was tormented and felt trapped by this person he’d become. However, there was something that was missing from the song; something that Bee couldn’t quite name at first.

Malcolm hit a wrong chord and let out a growl. He threw his pick across the room and noticed Bee standing in the doorway. A blush crept across his cheeks and he glanced away.

“It’s missing something,” He muttered, voicing Bee’s earlier thoughts.

“Hope,” Bee said automatically. She walked into the room and plopped down on his bed. “It’s missing hope.”

A scowl replaced the blush on Malcolm’s face. “Hope? There’s no hope for me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“No one likes me Bee. They barely tolerate me. I’m on the verge of being kicked out of the band and loosing everything. Don’t you get it? I’ve hurt anyone who’s ever mattered to me. I don’t have any friends and…and no one loves me.”

“I don’t believe that,” Bee said, her voice soft and compassionate. She had to resist the urge to tackle Malcolm in a hug. “I’m your friend.”

Malcolm was quiet for a moment before he looked up at her. His eyes were bright with unshed tears.

“Do you think you could love me?”

“Don’t ask me that. Malcolm, you need to love yourself before anyone else can love you the way you’re asking for.”

Malcolm nodded and a sad smile spread across his face and into his eyes. “You know,” he said slowly. “You know everything about me and I know next to nothing about you.”

“What do you know?”

“I know that you’re an intern for a law firm, I know you like to read an insane amount, I know you’re one of the most brilliant people I’ve ever met, you’re compassionate, patient, brave. And you put up with all my shit – or, well, you don’t put up with it.”

Bee was speechless and was convinced her blush was burning bad enough to give her a second-degree burn. It wasn’t hard to miss the love shinning in Malcolm’s voice. When Bee didn’t say anything Malcolm moved over and sat next to her on the bed.

“What’s your real name?”

“What?” The question caught Bee off guard. She looked up at Malcolm and could almost see the once-handsome man being the ugly mask of his sick body.

“Bee, it’s a nickname right?”

“Yeah, it’s Brea.” Bee’s blush grew deeper and it seemed her eyes became glued to the floor. “It means beauty. I always felt awkward so I shortened it to Bee.”

“Brea,” Malcolm said softly, almost like a prayer. “I like it. It works well for you. Tell me more about you.”

“Over dinner?”

“Perfect.”

As the days wore on Bee let Malcolm get to know her better, and she in turn got to know who Malcolm was beyond his aggressive exterior and lawsuits. Bee began to realize that Malcolm wasn’t just a client anymore; he was one of her best friends. She knew she wasn’t supposed to get personally attached to the case, but she couldn’t help it. She could also tell that Malcolm had fallen in love with her. He didn’t even try to hide his feelings for her, and it broke her heart every night when he would ask her if she could love him as he loved her. Bee had convinced herself that she loved him as a friend, or a brother, and nothing more.

“It’s a fine time for Mr. Morrison to get sick,” John muttered. “The court date is just around the corner and we’re no where near ready.”

“Stupid case!” Paul exclaimed as he glared. “None of it fits together! I get further running on a treadmill.”

“We’ll get it figured out,” George said, ever the optimist. He smiled and threw a highlighter at Paul. “Besides Bee’s here with us.”

“Not much help I’ll be,” She muttered. Bee felt like she was drowning in a sea of papers and reference books. Nothing in the case made sense and on top of it all she just couldn’t concentrate. Malcolm’s voice kept echoing in her head.

“I know you have to go. Just, come back in a week Brea. I’m a better person when you’re here. I don’t know what I’ll do without you here to look out for me and keep me in line.”

What bothered Bee the most was the desperate look that had been in Malcolm’s eyes and the morbid tone that had been present in his voice.

The week went by quicker than Bee could’ve imagined. It was almost as if it had come and gone in the blink of an eye. Mr. Morrison had recovered and was back at the office. However, as Bee got ready to go back to Malcolm Meg and Mary had burst into tears. They begged Bee to stay a little bit longer. Reluctantly Bee agreed to stay a bit longer. As Bee returned to the office she missed the evil smiles her fellow female interns exchanged. They were under the impression that if they couldn’t have Malcolm, no one could.

The third night past the one-week mark Bee fell asleep among the wasteland that could either make or break not only Malcolm but the firm as well. Her cell phone had gone missing, and try as she might she couldn’t fine Malcolm’s number anywhere. Her dreams were haunted by Malcolm, near dead in a hospital bed. He was dying and he was calling out her name with whatever strength he had left.

Then, a man with cat-like eyes and a near-familiar Cheshire smile appeared.

“Go to him Bee!” He shouted in her dream. “He’s dying and you’re the only one who can save him. Don’t be scared, you’ll be rewarded in the end for your love and kindness.”

Bee woke with a start, her body covered in sweat. Coming out of the after-dream haze she realized her cell phone was ringing next to her coffee cup. She wondered for the briefest moment how her phone had reappeared, almost like magic, before she answered it.

“Bee! Thank God I got you!” It was Ringo Plant, the drummer of The Jackals. “We’ve all been trying to get in touch with you for days!”

“Oh no…” Bee’s voice came out as a choked whisper. Before Ringo could tell her, Bee already knew that had happened.

“It’s Malcolm. He ODed and it doesn’t look good Bee. He might not wake up, and even if he does…”

The words were hollow in Bee’s ears as she frantically grabbed her bag and ran out the office in near tears. She wouldn’t let him die.

“Where is he?”

The taxi ride across town seemed to take decades instead of minutes. Never before had Bee been so utterly terrified. Her veins were frozen and she just felt pale. It was her fault. All her fault. Had she come back when she promised he wouldn’t have done something so stupid.

She followed Blondie back to his room. Bee didn’t even feel Blondie hug her as tears began to stream down Bee’s cheeks. He looked so empty. It was her Malcolm all right. The circles under his eyes were so much darker and she was scared that if she touched him he’d shatter.

Bee broke away from Blondie’s embrace and collapsed into the chair next to Malcolm’s bed. Slowly, carefully, she took his hand in hers and gently brushed his hair out of his face.

“Hey Malcolm.” Her voice was broken with tears but somehow she managed to smile at him. “I’m sorry I’m late. It’s all my fault. I should’ve come back when I promised. Just don’t die on me. It’s not your style to give up without a fight. I need you Malcolm. I don’t care if you’re addicted to drugs. I don’t care if you’re famous or dirt poor. I don’t care if you win or loose the case. I don’t care about any of it! I was wrong before. I know I could love you and I do…”

Bee exploded into sobs and buried her face in her arms, folded on the bed. It seemed that she cried forever and she jumped about half a mile in the air as a hand rested on her shoulder. She looked up through her tears at the man who stood behind her and wore a faded Jackals t-shirt. He had a smile that was all too familiar to Bee by now.

“I knew you could save Guitar-man Bee,” He said in the same voice that had echoed in her dreams not hours before.

“What, I don’t understand.” Bee’s grip tightened on Malcolm’s hand. “Am I dreaming?”

“You know, I think I’ll let Malcolm explain.” With a snap of his fingers it was like she was coming out of a dreamy haze. Once her eyes readjusted the Imp was still standing behind her, but Malcolm was different.

His eyes opened and he sat up slowly. The circles were gone from under his eyes and there was clarity in them that hadn’t been there before. His skin was no longer translucent and it shown with a healthy glow. He was so handsome now that he seemed healthy.

“What …? Malcolm? What’s going on?” Bee’s voice trembled.

“You! You broke the curse!” Malcolm exclaimed laughing. He pulled Bee into his arms and she could tell he was still weak but his strength was slowly returning. “You love me, and I love you, and you broke the curse.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This Imp-man cursed me. I was letting everything get to my head so he cursed me. He took away my creativity and I became addicted to drugs. It was like I was trapped and couldn’t stop myself from being a jerk. I had to find someone to love me beyond all that, someone that I could love and that could love me in return.”

“And I did that?” Bee asked the disbelief evident in her voice.

“Yeah!” Malcolm’s face lit up with a smile. “Brea, I love you and nothing else matters.”

“It’s just so unreal…” Bee’s voice trailed off and she looked from the Imp to the man she had grown to love despite everything. “But I guess love is sometimes, right?”

Malcolm placed a hand on either side of Bee’s face and kissed her tenderly.

“I hope this means I get a happy ending,” Malcolm said as he pulled Bee into his arms.

“No Guitar-man,” the Imp muttered as he walked out of the hospital room. “It means you get a happy beginning.”

In the following months the Prince was freed from the false charges that were made against him. He finished his song and once he had his creativity back it was amazing. He did as he was told and ended it with hope. The Prince held on to his good heart and didn’t let the fame change him into a monster again.

The Prince sang his song for the first time in front of one of the largest audiences the band had attracted. At the end he pulled his Princess onto the stage with him. With a smile, meant only for his Beauty, he fell to one knee and proposed.

The Princess in turn was hired full time at the firm and was promised that in a few years her name would be on the letterhead.

And they lived happily ever after…