Goodnight, Gigi Lu

This story is entered is an entry in the 2026 Halloween Contest. Vote if the spirit moves you.

Trigger warning: this story includes grief, drug use, and a drug related tragedy.

The young woman with dirty blonde hair dressed in tattered jeans and a hoodie sat hungover on a crowded plane flying over south east Asia. She wondered what she'd learned from her three month stay in Kathmandu seeking a spiritual vision of her true purpose in life. There was no epiphany, no enlightenment, just the same dull ache that something was missing. Then her father announced he was no longer funding her travels, so she was ending them with one last stop before heading home to the States. She'd never felt so empty in her life.

The plane landed in Prague on a gloomy autumn afternoon. She stood at customs counter in front of a bearded official with an inquisitor's face. He scrutinized her American passport and with a heavy Slavic accent, he asked, "Purpose of your visit?"

"To visit my mother's grave."

He looked into the twenty year old woman's large, expressive grey eyes before returning his gaze to her passport. His eyebrow arched at the recognition of her name, Genevieve Georgia Louise Janeček. He looked into her pretty face once more. "Are you related to Viktor Janeček?"

"He's my father."

His eyes returned to her passport where he flipped through the pages full of the stamps from other countries. With the slow pace of a man with limited English, he said, "Your father is a great player. My brother took up tennis because of him. I used to listen to your mother's music."

"Thank you."

His eyes settled upon her fatigued face one last time before he stamped the passport and slid it to her. "Welcome to the Czech Republic, Gigi Lu."

She left the security area to make her through the concourse feeling ashamed that she couldn't read the signs because she hadn't learned her parents' native language. She had vague memories of her parents arguing in Czech, and her father's occasional tirade in his native tongue when his temper got the best of him, but he had abandoned his Czech culture and taught her nothing of the old country when they began their American life.

Genevieve collected her suitcase from the luggage carousal and turned to leave when, to her horror, a flock of manic eyed paparazzi rushed towards her.

"Gigi! Gigi Lu!"

Her arm flew up against the cameras' bright lights.

"Gigi!"

"Are you happy to be in Prague?"

"Is it true you're starting a music career?"

"Will your father come out of retirement and play for Czechia in the next Olympics?"

"Gigi! Gigi! Gigi Lu!!"

She felt a strong hand grab her elbow and looked up to see the familiar face of her unofficial godfather, Stanislas "Staz" Kolar. The tall slim man looked like his same old cocky music producer self, dressed in all black and wearing sunglasses. His black spikey mullet hair style hadn't changed and despite his hard partying lifestyle, his face had changed little with age.

"This way," he said, with an east end London hustler accent.

He grabbed her suitcase and led her through the throng of photographers yelling questions at her as they followed the two from the terminal. Staz opened the rear door of a waiting black sedan where she hopped in and scooted over. Staz took a seat beside and closed the door, muffling the shouts from the hounding paparazzi as they waited for the driver to load her suitcase in the trunk.

"Thanks for picking me up but did you set this up? The paparazzi?"

"No," he replied, nervously chomping his gum and looking about as though he were trying to spot assassin in the crowd.

"How did they know I was coming? And what's this about a singing career? Where did they get that idea?"

"You know how much people loved your mother. I imagine they'd love for you to follow in her footsteps."

"And you had nothing to do with it?"

He shrugged before turning his head to gaze out of the window. The car pulled away from the curb and once they were in the thick of traffic, Staz broke the heavy silence.

"Your mother was a national treasure. The first Czech female singer to have three number one albums in Europe. Five number one songs. Worldwide hits. You know they still sample your mother's songs and play 'Goodnight, Gigi Lu' in dance clubs all over Prague."

Gigi rolled her eyes. "I know. I still get the royalty checks."

Will she ever shake that song? She was lucky that very few people in America knew of her mother's mega hit but here, in Czechia, everyone knows Cheska and her daughter, Gigi Lu for the artist was their national songstress, their rebel, their 'it' girl.

"Everybody thought it was some edgy song about a killer," Staz continued. "It was actually a lullaby your mother made up to sing you to sleep."

"And you made it into a hit."

"I did indeed. Have you considered a music career? I can make you a star too, be your manager. We can make a lot of money."

"No. Besides, you don't even know if I can sing."

He took off his sunglasses and looked at her. His face softened with nostalgia. "You look so much like her. I'm sure you can sing just as well. Besides, there's autotune. We get some choreographers and back-up dancers, maybe a couple of back-up singers, form a group like K-Pop. K-Pop. Now that's where the money is."

Gigi looked out the window as Staz prattled on about his dream of forming a K-Pop girl group. She marveled at the Prague's beauty with its fairytale buildings on old European streets.

"I discovered your mother in a blues club."

Gigi turned to give him her full attention. She knew very little about her mom's early life. Her father never shared those things.

"Yeah, she started out as a blues singer. She was a secretary singing at night in this little jazz club in old town. Her voice was so pure, full of passion and raw emotion. When I talked to her after her set, there was something in her eyes that said 'I'm going to the top. You can join me or not.' I signed her the next week."

The sedan eased through Prague's mid-day traffic and pulled to a stop in front of the Grand Imperial Hotel. They stepped out of the car to another blitz of paparazzi as some had followed them on motorbikes from the airport while others were already waiting outside the ritzy hotel. Staz guided her into the hotel lobby and stayed with her as she checked in.

"Thanks for putting me up here. Dad cut me off."

"No worries. Give me a call tomorrow. You have my number. I'm free all day. I'll drive you to where your mother is buried."

The front desk clerk handed her the room key. She turned to her benefactor and hugged him. "Thank you, Uncle Staz."

He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You're welcome. Get some rest, love. You look tired. Room service is on me, alright? Get whatever you want."

Gigi went to her room and after dropping her bags, she fell face forward onto the first soft bed she'd experienced in months. Why had she come to Prague? What was she hoping to find? She couldn't answer those questions. All she knew is that she was drawn here by an invisible thread. She finally sat up and took off her necklace which belonged to her mother and fingered the triangular pendant where sun rays radiated from an all-seeing eye to ward off evil spirits. She still had no idea what the inscription said as the words weren't written in any discernable language. She set it on the bedside table before stripping off her clothes to indulge in a long hot bath.

Her night flew by in a drunken blur. She stayed in her hotel room gorging on schnitzel and dumplings and drinking whisky straight from the bottle while watching television in a language she didn't understand. The next morning, she dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and her mother's leather motorcycle jacket and waited for Staz. It was noon when he texted his arrival. She placed her half-empty bottle of whiskey in her hobo bag and left her room.

Staz stood at the open passenger door, smoking a cigarette. He flicked it to the ground when he spotted her and waited until she slid into the luxury car before taking a seat beside her. With a slam of the door, the car pulled into traffic on its way to Olšany cemetery.

"Did you have a good night?" he asked, getting comfortable beside her.

"I just stayed in, watched tv, ate a lot."

"Yeah, you seem a little thin."

"I haven't had western food in months. Ate a lot of rice and vegetable curry. Did a little fasting, a lot of walking. That's what people do when they're on a spiritual quest."

"I wouldn't know anything about that."

Gigi giggled. "You're so debauched."

Staz's pulled his buzzing phone from his pocket and started texting. Gigi remained quiet and gazed out the window. She was deep in thought when Staz finally put his phone away. In a trance like voice, she said, "I've never been to her grave. Dad wouldn't let me go to her funeral."

"He was right to do so. Your mother's funeral was a circus, what with all the media and fans."

"Tell me the truth. Did she commit suicide?"

"No, no," he said, patting her hand. "She loved you and you're father too much to do that. She gave up partying when she was pregnant with you and moved to America. She was devoted to you and your father."

"Then why?"

He thought about it for a while. "Your mother had trouble turning off the voices in her head. That's what made her a great songwriter. Her overdose was an accident. Best believe that."

"Dad blames you, you know."

"Your father blames me for a lot of things. Look, I didn't pressure her into that tour. She missed the spotlight. She wanted it."

"And it killed her."

They both went quiet. Gigi felt as hollow as the day she was told that her mother had died, leaving a little girl of five wondering why mama left her without saying goodbye.

He bitterly muttered, "Cheska was a woman who took things to the extreme. Nothing was ever enough for her."

They pulled to a stop outside of the open cemetery gates. Staz was opening the door to get out when Gigi stopped him.

"I want to be alone."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I can find my way back to the hotel. Which way to her..."

"Follow the main lane all the way back. When you come to the stone marker of a knight in armor, take the path to the right. You can't miss it."

She stepped into the brisk fall air and sauntered down the wide lane carving through the old Bohemia cemetery. Gold and red leaves rustled underfoot as she strolled passed crumbling monuments and weather stained mausoleums marking the tombs of soldiers, scientists, poets, and politicians. It was so beautiful. What a wonderful place to spend eternity.

After a long, quiet walk, she saw the weather-beaten stone armored knight holding his shield displaying his family crest and turned right onto a smaller foot path. She stopped to survey the rows of newer grave markers lining the unswept pathway and there it was, the black granite monument she recognized from photographs. It was littered with devotions of dead flower bouquets, melted candles, dolls with busted faces, and scraps of fan art. The red leaves piled around it looked eerily like little flames against the black granite. Gigi tentatively walked down the path, feeling like a lost child in the forest, until she faced her fear with curiosity. She stood before the black granite grave stone that stretched over her mother's body and gazed at her mother's face laser etched onto another slab of black granite reaching up to the sky. She moved closer, stepping over melted candles onto the slab to lean over and touch the cold stone marker. Her fingers brushed over the engraved name; CHESKA, Franceška Milada, JANEČEK. She climbed down to stand before it, noticing the empty plot owned by her dad sandwiched between her mother and another family. Viktor was drunk and crying one night when he told her that it was written in his will to be buried next to Cheska. Her step-mother has no idea of his wishes. Gigi smirked at the thought of Tipper's crash out when she finds out. Her twisted pleasure was short lived. Tears welled up in her eyes as she gazed upon her mother's likeness. She wanted to hide from the world so she picked her way around her mother's grave to crumple onto the ground behind her mother's marker. Hidden from the path, she cried uncontrollably as she returned to the day she was told that her mother was never coming home. She grabbed the bottle of whiskey from her bag, uncapped it and swigged from it. The burn of alcohol made her feel present. Tears rolled over her cheeks as she blubbered, "Mommy, why did you leave me?"

Sitting among the ferns and ivy, she took in the beauty of the quiet cemetery lit by hazy sunlight flowing through lilting tree branches. She felt as though she'd been transported into a Baroque painting. Nausea overtook her and she leaned to her side to vomit into the ivy. She retched and retched again until her stomach was empty then wiped her mouth with her jacket sleeve before leaning back against the back of her mother's gravestone. Utterly drained, she looked up at the tree branches above and lulled by the peacefulness, she slumped over and fell asleep as the sunlight dwindled away.

Gigi woke up shivering in the night air in a place she didn't recognize. Her eyes took in the bright full moon in the dark sky, her ears the chirps and clicks night creatures and the sound of city traffic beyond the walls. She remembered she was leaning on the back of her mother's monument and began to whimper, lost in childhood misery. Then she felt it; the presence of an unseen being. It wasn't an animal, wasn't malevolent. She sat frozen, feeling it draw nearer until it was within reach.

"My daughter. My daughter."

The gentle voice wasn't received by her ears. It was a voice imprinted within her.

"Mama?"

She stared into the darkness, not seeing anything but feeling her presence floating before her.

"Stay with me, mama. Please don't leave again. Stay. Sit right here," she said, patting her lap.

She felt her mother hover inches from her face. Then her mother settled into her body. Cheska's disembodied soul spread through her body. She felt her mother possess her senses; her soul drawing strength from her unfinished business. As she once had inhabited her mother's body, her mother was now inhabiting her and she passively welcomed her mother with an open heart. She felt like she'd been gently pushed from the driver's seat of her life and was now a willing passenger. Though she could still see through her eyes, she felt her soul disengage from her body, anchored yet floating, devoid of gravity, and completely powerless.

Cheska willed Gigi's body to rise. She stood on wobbly legs, exhilarated from the nearly forgotten sensations that her incorporeal soul hadn't experienced in years. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with a rush of night air as her sensory pleasures reconnected to this earth. The cool night air on her skin sent shivers down her spine. She retrieved her daughter's handbag from the ground and headed towards the main path, each step becoming steadier as she started the long walk out. When she reached entrance, the gates were locked, so she walked along the cemetery wall, picking her way through the grass and ferns behind gravestones until she found a pile of debris she could use to climb over the wall. Up and over the thick cemetery wall she went to tumble onto the city sidewalk. She stood up and marveled at the world around her. Though the street was familiar, much had changed with new buildings and sleeker cars.

Mother and daughter were now working as one, and with that, Cheska had access to her daughter's knowledge. She walked to the Grand Imperial Hotel and entered her room, going straight into the bathroom to gaze into the mirror at her daughter's reflection. The height was the same and in much respects, they looked nearly identical. The same heart shaped face, same big eyes except hers were grey like her father's side of the family. The same nose and naturally pouty lips, but her angular features remained hidden under Gigi's youth. Such lovely skin. Still, Cheska longed to look like herself. Gigi didn't have dark brunette hair like hers. There wasn't much she could do about the color but she could improve the hairstyle. She retrieved a small pair of scissors from her daughter's cosmetic case and chopped at her hair, creating layers, and tousled it with hair gel until she was happy with a shaggy rocker look. She rummaged through Gigi's make-up bag and put on make-up, starting by heavy handedly lining her eyes with a black kohl pencil. Then she applied velvet cherry lipstick to her lips. Her cellphone rang. With slow fingers, guided with Gigi's help, she answered the device.

"Hello?"

"Gigi, thank God," Staz said.

"Staz!" she replied, happy to hear his familiar voice.

"I've been trying to reach you for hours. Did you get my messages?"

She looked at the phone and saw his missed texts and calls. "Sorry about that. Hey, I want to go out. Hit some clubs. Come pick me up."

"Now?"

"Yeah, now. Right now."

"Okay then. See you in a bit."

She returned to the bedroom to fling open the suitcase. She was hoping to find a mini skirt but found several pairs of jeans instead. She pulled out a pair of black jeans and cut them into shorts before stripping naked to put them on. She looked in the mirror and turned to see Gigi's ass cheeks peeking from the too short shorts and smiled. She cut off the collar and sleeves of a black t-shirt before putting it on along with a pair of Doc Maarten boots. She spotted her lucky necklace on the bedside table and placed the family heirloom around her neck before stacking silver Nepali bangles on one arm. She looked in the mirror and smiled. Cheska was back.

When Staz texted his arrival, she put on her motorcycle jacket and left the room. Her old manager was seated in the back of the shiny black sedan dressed in his usual business club attire, a black suit and black button down shirt. She bounced into the car and flung her arms around her dearest friend. The door shut behind her before Staz took her by the arms to hold her at arm's length. He gawked at her in disbelief. This was not the weary girl he'd left hours ago.

"You cut your hair."

Mussing her layers with her fingers, she smiled. "You like it?"

"Yeah, it looks good on you."

"Where are we going?"

"Supernova. You'll love it."

"What about the Dance House or Verve?"

"Honey, those clubs closed down years ago."

The sedan pulled in front of the club where a crowd of people were lined up on the sidewalk waiting to get in. Staz guided her through the crowd and upon seeing the famous manager, the club's security stood aside for them to enter. Music loudly thumped in the club bathed in pink and blue lights. People danced on the crowded dance floor to the steady beat. The two walked up to a suited man stiffly standing in front of a velvet rope which barred club goers from going to an upper level. Staz leaned into his ear and he, in turn, unlatched the rope, allowing them to enter. They walked the steps to the DJ booth where a young, tattooed Asian man was spinning magic over the dance tribe. Upon seeing Staz, he removed his earphones to bro hug the music producer.

"Gigi, this DJ Usagi, the best DJ on the scene. Usagi, this is Cheska's daughter, Gigi Lu."

His eyes widened at the beauty who held a striking resemblance to her mother. She smiled and gave a demure wave. He was smitten. They remained in the booth as Usagi skillfully changed beats. Cheska looked down at the crowd and their infectious dancing. After a while, she leaned to Staz and said, "I want to sing."

"What?!" he yelled, leaning closer to hear her.

She leaned in closer. "I want to sing!"

"Are you sure?!"

"Just give me the damn mic and get the fuck out my way."

He flinched, taken aback by the exact words Cheska used every time she took the stage. Staz leaned into Usagi and said something she couldn't hear. He nodded and handed Staz a hand held microphone. Staz handed it to Gigi as Usagi transitioned to Cheska's big dance hit.

Usagi took to his mic. "Give a big hand to Gigi Lu herself. Gigi Lu!!"

To their surprise, Gigi left the DJ booth and walked down the steps onto shadowy stage like a drunken duchess.

"Turn the stage lights on!" Staz yelled at Usagi, frantically pointing at the stage. "Turn up the lights!"

The DJ ramped up the lights and she was fully illuminated, moving to the rhythm of synthesized dance beats. Staz gritted his teeth. Either this was going to be something fabulous or an utter disaster. She held the mic like Cheska, swaying from side to side with the mic cupped in both hands like a sweet caress to a lover's face. Then above the techno beat rose a sexy smoky voice.

Eyes in the night

Are looking for you

You're in their sight

Good night, Gigi Lu.

The crowd sang along and bounced to the beat. Others gathered at the stage to gaze up at her in utter devotion. Cheska felt so alive to be singing once more. The crowd applauded when she finished. How she missed the applause. Energized by the crowd she shouted, "You like that?"

Tremendous applause, whistles, and cheers filled the club. She felt reckless and carefree.

"How about I sing Broken Dolls?!"

The crowd cheered. DJ Usagi played the background track of her first big hit, a power ballad that she sang. She leaned in hard, singing with pent up heartbreak and loss.

All I ever wanted was yesterday

Ooooooh, all I ever wanted was everything

Now those days are done

Scattered on the floor

Like a broken doll

Staz turned to snort some cocaine before returning his attention to the young woman commanding the stage. Her voice, her performance were spot on Cheska. How was she making it happen? Yes, she'd seen her mother perform before but she was just a toddler. She couldn't have remembered her mother's mannerisms. As he watched her prowl around the stage, he was taken by her body, the way she shimmied and danced with absolute confidence.

She received another round of astounding applause and with that, she departed the stage and handed the mic back to Staz saying, "And that's how it's done."

They had a drink in the DJ booth and when they left the club, she took selfies with club goers all the way out the door. The exhilaration she felt was the same as when she won her first award. It felt like pure love. Her fans still loved her. Her music was impactful enough that it was still in their hearts.

Back in the car, Staz exclaimed, "You were sensational!"

"Thanks, love."

"Your voice is a little different from your mother's but wow."

"I'm not fully in control of these vocal cords yet," replied Chezka.

He ranted non-stop about her voice and stage presence and how much money they could make.

"God, with your looks and voice and that hot little body of yours, you could go worldwide."

She heard little of what he said as her thoughts were consumed by sex. Performing on stage and rapturous applause had always been an aphrodisiac for her. The seam of her shorts rubbed against her hardened clit. She was ready fuck.

When the car pulled up to the hotel, she asked, "Do you want to come up for a drink? We can discuss your grand ideas."

"Alright," he replied, having run out of cocaine but still wanting to party and maybe sign his next protégé.

Back in the hotel room, she poured a shot of whiskey into two glasses which they clinked in a toast before tossing them back. She poured a second before Staz could recover from the first.

"You sounded so much like your mother," he said, accepting the drink and tossing it back. "I mean you put your spin on it but God, you sounded like her."

"Because it is me, Staz. Cheska."

Shaken, his smile disappeared. "Gigi, that's not funny."

She drew closer to stand on her toes and placed her lips near his ear.

"Remember when we were at that Tokyo sex club and we entered that contest? You know the game where we and a couple of drunk business men were on all fours on stage and they shoved tapered candles in our asses, lit them, and the last one to not scream to have their candle blown out or let it drop won 100,000 yen? And that little old lady who went around blowing out the candles when people shrieked when it burned their ass? And you actually won. Then we went to a casino and I put it all of your winnings on black at the roulette table."

Wide eyed and slack jawed, Staz replied, "And you lost it all."

They swore that they'd take the details of their wild Tokyo night to the grave. Gigi couldn't possibly know about that. No mother would share such a scandalous story with an innocent child. Not even Cheska.

"And that time in London, when we were running from Jimmy and his crew. And when we hid behind the dumpster in the ally, I told you we'd be alright. I have Roma in my blood and we were protected by this amulet," she said, showing Staz the Roma pendant hanging around her neck. "Nobody knows that I'm Roma, not even Viktor, but you know, Staz."

His mouth hung open in disbelief. He disengaged from her to look into her eyes. It was then that he realized that Gigi's grey eyes had changed. They were more green than grey. Green like her mother's. He could see Cheska in those eyes, feel her charismatic aura.

His eyes remained locked onto hers as she spoke perfect Czech in a low, sexy voice, "You know it's me."

"Cheska? How?"

She shrugged. "My daughter invited me in and here I am. It is a witching moon you know."

"What happened to Gigi?"

"She's still here. We're just sharing her body. She wanted a break from her life so I gave it to her. When she starts to fight for control I'll leave, but she seems content to not be in control."

He still believed she was having some sort of mental breakdown, but how would she know about things that only the two have shared?

"Gigi, maybe you should go see a doctor."

"I don't need a doctor. I need your cock," she said, tugging at his waistband.

"What?"

She draped her arms over his shoulders, pressed her body to his, and said, "We want to taste your flesh and nuzzle your beastly hair."

Her fingers grazed his chest before unbuttoning a shirt button where she leaned him to kiss chest. "I know what you like," she said, running her fingers over his nipples.

She kissed him with hungry lips; small loving kisses over and over again. The decent part of him wanted to pull away and not take advantage of a sick girl, but there wasn't much decency left in him at this point in his life. It was Cheska. He could tell from her kisses. She defied death. His precious flower had remained earthbound and returned to him.

His resistance melted. Passion overtook him. They were old lovers who'd found each other again. His lips locked onto hers as he pulled her into his body, clutching at her, leaving no chance of escape. Ever direct, she took his hand and shoved it in her shorts where he felt the soft down of pubic hair and the split of her sex. His fingers instinctively moved inside her delightfully warm and moist inner lips. She's was so young and firm and she wanted him. Yes, she wanted him. He clumsily unbuckled her belt and unzipped her shorts where they fell to the floor. Lost in their kiss, his hands caressed her hips and wandered to her bottom devoid of underwear. He pulled her close, lifting her feet off the ground, as he navigated them to the nearby bed. They fell upon the bed in a frenzy. His body pressed down upon her as he pushed up her top to hungrily suck her breast. She wriggled away to sit up and straddle him, pushing the hapless man upon his back.

Her fingers ripped at his belt. "Give me that nasty cock of yours."

She yanked off his pants and peeled back his steamy club briefs. Though his cock was semi-hard, it grew harder as she worked it with her tongue, licking and lapping at it before engulfing it with her mouth. He grunted over and over again as her head bobbed up and down his hardened cock. When she stopped, he looked down at it, wet from her spittle and stained red from her lipstick. She went down on him again, and he fell back, giving into the sensation radiating from his cock. She sucked him the way he liked it; hard and fast like a cracked out whore.

She stopped and reared up to her knees to unbutton his shirt and when it was completely open, she stretched her arms above her head for his eyes to take all of her in. He gazed at her nearly naked body in her shredded t-shirt with her furry little muff within his reach. He kicked his pants off the bed and rose a bit to toss aside his unbuttoned shirt. She looked upon his naked body.

"I missed you, Staz."

He grabbed her, pulling her down upon him where his open mouth received hers and rolled her beneath him. Her thighs opened under his weight. He poked and prodded until she grabbed it and guided it into her. They grappled as he fucked her. She giggled every time her head smacked into the headboard, but when he went deep, she groaned with pleasure. Her orgasm happened swiftly to ripple through a body which hadn't had sex for over a year.

Staz kept going, pumping inside her, withdrawing only once to flip her over and enter her once again. He squeezed her cheeks as he pushed inside her until, fucking hard until he could hold back no more. With tightened balls, he came hard, babbling from ecstasy as his cock pumped cum into her and when he was spent, he collapsed over her, slobbering into her neck and hair while muttering nonsensically. It took a while for him to roll off her and after his heart returned to a normal pace, he retrieved a pack of Dunhill cigarettes from his pocket and lit one up. He inhaled the premium smoke before passing it to Cheska as they'd done before she met Viktor.

They laid in bed, sharing a cigarette while staring up at the ceiling. With a heavy Czech accent, she asked, "Has life been good to you, Staz?"

"Reasonably so."

"Who did you replace me with?"

"No one. You're irreplaceable. So, what are you going to do next?"

"I'm going to home to Viktor."

He leaned up to his elbow to look at his blonde haired Cheska. "That may be awkward, love. He married a Palm Beach socialite he met while working as a tennis pro at some country club in Florida."

Cheska emotions ran full riot. It hurt that he remarried. She still loved him more than anything. He had to still love her. Their love was deep and had no expiration date. She needed to let him know that she won't leave this earth until they were together once more.

"Does he love her?"

"If he does, it's not as much as he loved you. He was crushed when you passed."

"I'm going to him."

"But you're Gigi. You can't. That'd be so... twisted."

"But I will and as you can see, my will is stronger than death."

His face turned serious as his gaze fixed upon her hers. "Stay with me. We could be great together like it was before."

She looked at him and stroked his face. He tenderly kissed her fingers. "How about it. Stay with me."

She lovingly stroked his face. He leaned his cheek into palm, praying that she'd say yes.

"We had our time and it's over. I'm returning to my husband."

Staz quickly sat up, snatched his clothes from the ground and hurriedly dressed. He was buckling his belt when he muttered, "Still the same stubborn woman you used to be."

She looked up at him with a silly grin on her face and sang out, "But you looooove me."

He stopped to gaze upon her naked form wrapped in sheets. "I'll always love you."

Putting on his jacket, he looked at her one last time and said, "You know what Cheska? You're a force of chaos. Go ahead, go fuck up Gigi. Go back to Viktor but like you just said, your time with him has passed. It'll never be the same."

He kissed her forehead. "Good luck, love."

With that, Staz left the room. She thought about his words which mattered little to her. She defied the natural order of things to return. With a pillow clutched against her, she gleefully rolled in bedsheets. It was so good to be alive! Without hesitation, she picked up Gigi's phone and called Viktor.

He answered in two rings. "Hi, sweetheart. How are you?"

"Good."

"When are you coming home?"

"Tomorrow."

"Good. Tipper is away. We can catch up over lunch or dinner; maybe talk about getting back into school. How does that sound?"

"Sounds great. I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"I love you."

"I love you too, baby."

"Say it to me in French."

After a pause, he replied, "Je t'aime bébé."

How she love the way his lips purses when he speaks French. It made her tingle and swoon. Happiness overtook her. She was going to see Viktor again.

It was night when she arrived at her stepmother's West Palm Beach mansion. She walked upstairs to her room which Tipper had redecorated into a white showroom after she left for college. Her clothes still hung in the closet; her things were still there but packed away in drawers. She stepped before the mirror and stared at her reflection.

"I want my hair back."

She ordered a couple of cans of brunette spray-in hair dye for delivery before going downstairs where she rummaged through the well-stocked fridge for something to eat. When she finished eating left over catering, she left the house for the six car garage where Cheska's items had been relegated to a storage area on the second floor. The room was a shrine to Cheska with her belongings tour posters, gold albums and music awards. She unzipped the hanging bags containing her clothes until she found her favorite performance dress; a silver chainmail mini-dress that was low front and even lower in the back. She was wearing it when she met Viktor at a Best of Europe awards show's after party in London. She brought it back to the house before taking a long bath in bubbly scented water. She'd just stepped out of the tub when the doorbell chimed. With the bag of dye left on porch by the front gate guard now in her hands, she proceeded with the last of her transformation.

The lights came on when Viktor entered the quiet mansion. A clanking sound echoed in the marble foyer when he tossed his keys into a bowl on a side table. The charity event at the country club was exhausting but as their celebrity employee, he had to attend with a smile and mingle with people he despised. They asked him where was his wife and he wanted to answer, "don't know, don't care." But he smiled and made polite excuses for her absence as she was in New York on board business.

He made his way to the main living room where soft lights turned on as he entered. He stepped behind the bar, grabbed ice cubes from the mini fridge and dropped them into a crystal tumbler before cracking open a bottle of well-aged bourbon of which he poured a healthy dose into his glass. He sipped it and evaluated his life as he'd done a thousand times before.

He was a broken man after Cheska's death; a widower raising a little girl who he dragged around the world as he played on the tournament circuit. He frittered away his money on luxury hotels, first class flights, and premium liquor. When he dropped out of the top fifteen, he lost endorsement deals as younger more talented players entered the scene. When his finances became tight enough for him to be put on a budget, he formulated a plan and came to Palm Beach looking for opportunity and accepted a job as a country club tennis pro to provide his American daughter with a stable home in the States. Miami charity affairs were ripe with wealthy American socialites. They shamelessly flirted with him during tennis lessons. Out of the many, Tipper caught his eye. Though she was ten years his senior, she had a fit body and a pretty smile. She had money from her deceased tycoon husband's will and bought everything; this mansion, the cars, his lifestyle. So here he was, comfortable in a loveless marriage with an heiress who treated him like another one of her many accessories -- locked up and well-kept.

How much longer must he endure this humiliation? It was bad enough that every female club member still flirted with him, but it was the men, the wealthy men of the donor class, that annoyed him the most. Everyone wanted to play him for the chance to beat a former top seed tennis pro. He hated when the club owner told him to lose to club members with political clout. 'Give them a good game but let them win.' He felt like a retired gladiator forced to play-battle rich men at their extravagant parties and losing so they can crow about their victory over a warrior of former greatness. His only joy was to smash a serve into their balls and apologize profusely for the misdirected serve. He had cracked the top ten best tennis players in the world and now he's a clown for coins. He hates when they call him 'Vic'.

He sipped his bourbon once more before topping it off. At least Gigi was finally on her way home. For many years, it was just the two of them and he missed his little buddy. She understood him, always cared for him, shared his pain. She knew when to give him a hug and when to let him sulk in peace. He was still mad that she'd dropped out of college. Her trust fund was good but not enough to live comfortably for the rest of her life. Hopefully he can talk her into completing college and starting a career. Cheska wouldn't care if she went to college or not. She'd have faith that her daughter would carve a happy path in life, with or without college.

The ice tinkled in his glass as he traveled upstairs with the downstairs lights turning off behind him. He entered his bedroom, stripped off his polo shirt and shucked off his khakis. With his drink in hand, he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, bringing his drink into the shower with him to sip as hot water sprayed over his shoulders.

When his drink was nearly done, he stepped out of shower, running the towel over his damp hair before tying it around his waist. He stopped before a mirror to view his scruffy self. He hadn't shaved since Tipper left and it pleased him. He flexed a bit, turning from side to side to examine his defined muscles. Though his six pack abs were a less defined, he was still fit. He could play competitively again. He'd finished fifth in the last Olympics he competed in ten years ago. He could do it again. Who was he fooling? At forty seven, his ankles would be completely shot in a few years if he returned to completive sports. He slouched under the weight of middle age and sighed. What he wouldn't give for another shot at glory. He picked up his drink and sipped it as he strolled into his bedroom to sit on his bed. Melancholy over took him. He repeated the words he said at Cheska's funeral and a thousand times after. "There's a hole in my world where you used to be."

He was startled by the sound of a boozy horn over dreamy introspective 1940s jazz music flowing from the home's surround sound system. It was Cheska's favorite music. Was he really hearing it or was it a hallucination?

He looked over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps to see a woman standing at the door. Her hair was brown, her make-up smoky. She was wearing a seductive slinky silver dress. Cheska? Was he now seeing things? No, it was Geneveive. What phase was she was going through now?

He rose with a baffled expression on his face. "Genevieve? What did you do to your hair? Why are you dressed like that?"

Gigi approached slow and slinky with seductive sway of her hips. She hugged him and he in turn gave her a fatherly hug but she clung to him, pressing herself to him as her hands caressed the back of his head. Viktor gently pushed her back at arm's length. Then he recognized the outfit.

"Is that your mother's dress?"

"Viktor," she whispered, her voice was thick with a Slavic accent.

"What's gotten into you?"

"Viktor, my love, it's me. Cheska."

He frowned in bewilderment. He couldn't look away. Geneveive's eyes, that usually shimmer like fog on water, were now a burst of green radiating from jet black irises just like the eyes that once ruled his heart.

She breathily crooned.

I will love you forever

Even after ten thousand tomorrows

After a thousand lifetimes

After the stars burn out from the sky.

I will love you forever

Even after the day I die

Cheska sang that to him in their honeymoon bed after they'd made love. No one knows that song. No one but....

"Cheska?"

"I'm alive, Viktor. I'm alive."

"No. No, no, no," he said, turning away and running his fingers through his still damp hair. "That can't be."

"Remember, in our wedding vows, I told you that I'd always love and cherish you. I still do. I will forever. This is proof that our love is stronger than death. I love you with every ounce of my being."

He looked upon that face again, those eyes. The way she stood, the things she said. Her aura was that of his soulmate. It was really her.

"Cheska."

She smiled. "Yes."

His surprise was overwhelmed with unresolved grief.

"How could you've done that to me?" he cried out, angrier than he intended. "You left me; left me all alone with a little girl. How could you do that?"

She sat on the bed and looked down at her feet and switched to speaking in Czech. "I didn't mean to. You know how nervous I get when I'm on tour. I need pills to sleep."

"Staz."

She shook her head. "No. He refused to get me sleeping pills and told me to grit it out. I was miserable; hadn't slept in two nights, missing you and Gigi, and the rehearsals, they were just grueling. I called an old dealer I knew in Paris. It was only when my heart began to slow that I realized that I was in trouble, but there was nothing I could do except to slip away."

She looked up at him with vacant eyes. "Then, it was weird. Whenever I thought of a place, like the apartment where I grew up or our house in St. Augustine, I'd open my eyes and be there. This was my existence for what felt like an eternity; hopping from place to place, memory to memory, drifting in and out of space and time. Then a heavenly being came to me. She looked like my aunt Ada but I think it was Zorya of the Midnight Star. She told me it's best not to linger on earth and pointed to the only star in the black, black sky and told me to go to it. But I turned my back to it to be with you. I wasn't going to the next realm without you."

Viktor's face was wracked with anguish. Her tale of wandering lost in the darkness searching for him all of these years broke his heart. He dropped to his knees, wrapped his arms around her waist, and wept in her lap.

She caressed his head, saying, "No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find you. Maybe it was some kind of divine encouragement to get me to leave this earth, but I still refused to go. Then I found Gigi and she invited me in. I found you. I finally found you. I told you we were magic."

He believed her. God help him, he believed her. She was back. Cheska had returned to him.

She disengaged from his tangled embrace to kneel before him and lifted his chin to look into those gorgeous blue sky eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I caused you so much pain."

Viktor got a hold of his emotions. He was drained from this purge of emotions he'd hidden from the world for all these years. She rose to her feet and urged him to join her. She embraced him once more, reveling in his body.

She ran her fingers through his hair, saying, "You smell so good. To touch your skin, feel your heat, it's all so, uh. God, I missed you."

His powerful arms swept his soul mate into his body.

He murmured, "Oh, baby, I've missed you. I've missed you so much."

She didn't resist his hot and heavy kiss, enjoying the sensations of his sheer physicality. His hands, strong from gripping tennis rackets, clung to her backside, and she melted into him, writhing against his hard body as she covered him with kisses. She pulled away from him for a moment to unhook her dress straps from her shoulders to let it fall onto the ground in a metallic heap. Her hands unfolded the towel around his waist to expose all of Viktor's fine tanned body. She smiled. He smiled as well. She threw herself upon him and he hugged her tightly, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

"Oh, baby," he murmured, before consuming her with his kiss.

How he'd missed her lips, her kiss, her playful, hungry tongue. His open mouth sucked at her skin with an oh so familiar female scent; rare and intoxicating. He was consumed by lust. They separated briefly to climb beneath bamboo sheets. He craved the slap of skin on skin. She straddled his thigh and, split legged, rubbed her sex up and down one muscular thigh, moaning in sheer ecstasy before falling into his arms. Their love making became a feverish event with ravenous mouths and animalistic licks. His hand delved between her thighs.

He mumbled, "You're so wet."

"You make me this way," she replied, as she had the first time they made love.

Those familiar words lingered in his ears.

Gigi was just as excited as the lovers involved. She had always wanted to be intimate with her hot dad. All those times he cuddled her in her plane seat when she was scared of flying, stroked her hair and told her everything would be alright. All those times pressed against his chest smelling his cologne, feeling safe and loved, she wanted it to be that way forever. His athletic body, handsome face and the cool confidence of a man of the world; he was everything to her. How she longed for his kisses and caress of his strong hands and now that she was seeing his penis for the first time, rigid and upright, she wanted him even more. She quivered from forbidden sensations.

Her cheek rubbed against his torso as she travelled down to bury her face in his pubic hair. She deeply inhaled, and said, "Ummm, you're so fresh and clean."

Viktor knew what that meant. He hadn't had a blow job in years. Tipper wouldn't 'debase' herself like that, but Cheska was his dirty girl especially after he showered. Her mouth lovingly took his cock into its warmth. He laid back against his pillow, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the sensation as her head bobbed up and down over and over again. She stopped to lick balls, his hard shaft resting against her cheek as she took one ball into her mouth to suck and then the other. She stopped to travel further down and he instinctively held his legs up, wide and open for her tongue to go into taboo place. With her nose buried beneath his balls, her tongue darted against his clean bung hole which Cheska attended to with pleasure. She kept it up until Viktor, excited for the first time in years, couldn't take anymore without blowing his load. He grabbed her hair to guide her upwards to face him. He adored the silly little smile she makes when she's naughty.

She fell beside him, waiting for what comes next. He clambered on top of her, holding his cock in his hand, ready to claim her. She opened her legs and threw her arms over his broad shoulders. He entered with little resistance.

"Oh yes!" she cried, clutching to his back. "God, yes. Fuck me. Fuck me hard."

He slammed it in the way she liked it. Viktor was lost in it all. They fucked each other for what felt like hours until the tightness in her sex begged for release.

"Cum with me," she commanded. "Cum with me."

Her words sent Viktor over the edge. The two climaxed, mouths open, eyes closed, locked together as jolts of pleasurable spasms consumed them. They gripped each other, slick with perspiration, groans and gasps from their mouths cut short in a smoldering kiss. He rolled off her, huffing and puffing as he returned to this world. He was in the arms of the only woman to make him cum this hard, but when he looked down upon her snuggled up to his chest, all he could see was Geneive; the girl fell asleep listening to bedtime stories he read to her when she was frightened of the dark.

"You have to let Genevieve return."

"I know," she replied, resting her head onto his chest. "Just a little longer."

"I'm afraid that she won't return if you stay any longer. She has her life to live. She deserves that. Don't take it away from her. I need Genevieve back."

She touched his face to which he kissed her palm.

"I love you Cheska and, God willing, I'll be with you again. It's time to let Genevieve return to her life. Genevieve, come back to me baby."

"I love you, Viktor."

With one last kiss, he watched her mouth slacken and those sultry green eyes drain away to Genevieve's hazel grey.

She felt very relaxed reanimating a body still vibrating from incredible sex. Finally having control of her tongue once more, she uttered one word. "Táta?"

"Genevieve," he replied, holding her tight.

His delirium subsided when the wet spot he was lying on reminded him of what he had done. He released her and quickly moved to the edge of the bed to cover his face with his hands. "I'm a monster."

"Táta, no," she said, kneeling behind him. "I wanted you to share a moment with mama. You didn't do anything wrong. I wanted this to happen. You made me feel alive again. I haven't been this happy in a long, long time."

He patted her hand before turning to look at her. "I'm sorry. I just miss her so much."

"I wandered all over looking for purpose. It's with you. It's the way it should be. Mom had me so you'd never be alone. It's always been you and me against the world. Let's make it that way again."

Viktor left the bed to retrieve sleepwear from a dresser drawer.

"Put these on."

She silently dressed in the oversized sleepwear while as he dressed in a pair of boxer shorts. He returned to the bed and cuddled her against his chest.

He kissed the top of her head. "I'm glad you're home."

She held him tight, finally at peace.

Two years later found Genevieve excitedly sitting in Olympic stadium watching the opening ceremonies. Beside her sat her boyfriend, Cam, happily clapping for the athletes rounding the track in the Parade of Nations. She glanced lovingly at the handsome American NHL hockey player she sat next to a year ago at a sports awards banquet that she and her father had attended. He'd flown across the world to be with her. Perhaps it was true love; at least it was for her.

Then it happened. The Czech Republic Olympic team entered the stadium. She cheered to see Viktor walking front and center among the one hundred athletes of the Czech delegation. She looked down to her tablet streaming American Olympic coverage and saw they'd picked up a close up shot of Viktor Janeček, the man with the miraculous comeback story who, at forty nine, rose to be the seventh top ranked male tennis player in the world. His comeback was nothing short of a miracle.

When her father returned to the tournament circuit, Genevieve became her father's personal assistant. She was a nomad once again just like her mother's people as she travelled with him while he competed around the world. She was partners with his agent, Natalia, who got him endorsements with just one caveat; no adult diapers and no erectile dysfunction pills. Money had been steadily coming in for the last eighteen months. He was free.

Viktor walked with pride in his heart, waving and getting love from his fellow Chechia athletes. Though he stayed in a lux hotel, he loved going to Olympic village where they gave him respect and treated like papa bear. With Natalia managing his comeback, Genevieve as his personal assistant, and the divorce from Tipper finalized, he felt invincible. He looked up at the stands, soaking it all in, and knowing that his little girl had found a good guy. He inhaled, and closed his eyes for a few seconds, feeling Cheska in the energy of the Olympic spirit. It felt like magic.

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