Soraka knew she was strange. For one thing, her name was spelled wrong. Her parents had heard the name "Sorcha" and fallen in love with it, but they hadn't had the slightest clue how to spell it, so they'd invented their own spelling. The name, when spelled correctly, meant light. Somehow it seemed appropriate.

See, the other thing that made Soraka strange was her taste in men. Soraka's friend Anna-Lynn liked guys with blue eyes, and her other friend Abigail liked guys with dark hair. Soraka liked guys that played with lights.

It had started about fifteen months ago. She had auditioned for Celtosealic, the World's biggest Irish dance tour, and got accepted on as an understudy. Being an understudy meant that she had to practice hard, and, once in awhile, she got to perform a show. The understudies usually didn't get the best practice times, but they had more free time than the actual dancers.

In fact, they often had to practise on a stage that was covered in crew people setting up props, and lighting technicians flashing strange coloured spotlights here, there, and everywhere in their rush to set up for the actual show. It was somewhat distracting. The first time Soraka had stepped onto the stage, she'd been blinded by a stray spotlight that had hit her in the eyes at the wrong time: blinded by lights and blinded by love. She'd glanced up to glare at the lighting technician and found herself staring at the most beautiful man she'd ever seen.

It was funny how stereotypes had led outsiders to believe that the dancers were a snobby bunch who would have nothing to do with the low-life crew members that they felt were so far below them. In actuality it was the complete opposite. It was true that the cast and the crew rarely interacted, but it was often because the crew members thought that the dancers were dull, high-school drop outs and not up to the standards of themselves. Most of the crew members had graduated college or a trade school. Okay, so many of them didn't look down on the cast members either, but some of them did and Soraka wasn't going to take her chances.

After practice she'd gone right to the library and taken out as many books as she could find on stage lighting. She was going to read up all about it and impress her Prince Charming (name unknown) with her knowledge and expertise. Maybe she could surprise him one day by climbing up into the technician's booth and offering him some helpful tips while dropping in a couple big words here and there. After all, Soraka was one of the dancers that had finished high school before joining the tour, and she'd finished with straight A's while practicing her dancing for three hours a day. How hard could it be to teach herself about lights?

Soraka sighed and flipped her orangey-red hair over her shoulder. That had been a year and a half ago and she'd never found out if her plan had worked. The tour had split up shortly after, and Prince Charming (name unknown) had moved to Australia to work with the new tour. The understudies had been eliminated and Soraka had been bumped up to become a proper dancer in the show. She'd never seen the guy again.

And yet, she'd become absorbed in her studies about the lights. They fascinated her. She loved how much creativity went into lighting a show. The audience didn't always realise what a big part of the show the lighting was, but she'd seen the rehearsals without the colourful dancing spotlights and the difference was huge. Most of the dancers said that when they retired they'd probably wind up coaching. Soraka decided that when she retired, she was going to become a lighting technician.

And so, she'd headed upstairs to ask the lighting crew to show her a thing or two about what they were doing and, in the process, she discovered her trend for falling in love with guys that play with lights.

The guy who was currently working the controls certainly wasn't drop dead gorgeous like Prince Charming (name unknown) had been. He had long (for a guy) red hair like she did, and he was pale and thin with freckles. She could see immediately that he was also a complete geek but, somehow, she knew he was perfect for her.

He turned around when she entered the small boxed room filled with controls.

"Uh, hi," he said, looking surprised and puzzled, "Can I help you?"

Soraka couldn't help but blush a bit, but it was too dark in the room for him to see the colour of her cheeks anyway. She knew the room was kept dark so he could see out onto the stage better.

"Yeh, I'm Soraka. I'm a dancer."

"Keevan, welcome to my domain," he said, offering her his hand to shake, but looking no less surprised at her sudden presence. At the touch of his hand though, Soraka suddenly totally forgot why she had climbed up to the room by the ceiling in the first place and stood staring at him, speechless.

He dropped her hand and Soraka plopped down into the seat beside his without a word. She stared at the control panel in front of her and at the view of the stage from this great height. Right, the lights. She wanted to learn about lights. There were way more controls in this room than she could have imagined and for a moment she almost, but not quite, forgot about Keevan. She reached out for a switch that she knew was going to lift the lights to the height of the curtain. She'd read enough to know what many of the switches did, but there were also a lot she didn't know about. Keevan's hand jerked across the table to push hers down before she could touch anything, and he knocked a glass of water over some of the controls as he did.

"Now look what you did!" he said, annoyance in his voice as he scrambled to dry them off with the sleeve of his sweater before the water seeped in and ruined the equipment.

Soraka frowned, slightly hurt by his unfair accusation, "I didn't do that; you did."

"What do you think you were doing? You can't just parade in here and start touching the equipment; you'll break it!" He flipped the switch closest to where the water had spilled and it sparked a bit, but nothing else happened, "And you did break it," he cried even more frustrated. He slammed his fist down onto the table beside him and spilling even more water, but this time onto the floor instead of the controls.

"It would have been fine if you'd let it dry out before trying to turn it on," Soraka protested, "Now you probably fried it because it was still wet when you sent the electricity through. And you spilled the water."

"Because you were going to mess it all up!"

"Yeah," she replied sarcastically, "moving the lights a tiny bit higher would mess it up completely. It'd be far less hazardous than dumping water onto them."

"Why are you even here?"

"I wanted you to teach me about the controls. How do you choreograph a show? What do you do if the dancer isn't in the right spot for the lights at the right time? How do you choose what colours to use? Can you show me how to work all this stuff?"

"Oh you've got to be kidding. No! Staff only. This is expensive stuff, not a bunch of toys. Now leave me so I can get back to work." He pulled her from her chair by her wrist and slipped on the puddle of water on the floor as he did, knocking them both to the ground.

Soraka gave a quick, "Hmmph," as she got up and stormed out of the room, leaving Keevan on the floor by himself.

Okay, so he wasn't drop-dead gorgeous, he had definitely inherited a temper to match his red hair, he was a geek, and klutz. And yet somehow, for some reason, she was still crushing bad. She headed down to her room and made a vow that she'd win her geek over yet, and convince him to teach her the controls at the same time. She just needed a plan.