Disclaimer at Last: I don't own Ronnie Boylan. She's the creation of some creep who isn't me. I don't own the other two oylans, or Arty, or any of the other Hooverville-ites like Sophie and Ira that I mention in later chapters. I own any characters I created, such as Ronnie's family, and the people Ronnie and her friends have become.

Author's Note: Okay, I've rewritten a lot of stuff, half because it didn't space well, half because some of my information was inaccurate. and, call me picky, but I'll attempt to fix some typos whilst rewriting. And be at least a little appreciative; respacing this thing was 6 minutes of hell. Oh, and so you understand my referrence to Bonnie's affair with Bert Healy, the Boylans had a little joke going that Bnnie was the only one without a polka-dotted dress because Bert Healy still had it. Yeah, tee hee . . . Have fun and enjoy my reviews before reading Chapter 4 or my sarcasm will make no sense.

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Everyone knows me as Ronnie Boylan . . . or just one of "the lovely Boylan sisters". Heh. The funniest part is that my last name isn't even Boylan.

Bonnie's is. Bonnie Boylan is the only one who got to keep her name. Cindy Medvelle, alias Connie Boylan, and I, Ronnie Davis, we had to change our names. At least I got to keep my first name.

I was supposed to be a boy. Born in a poor section of Brooklyn to Matthew and Cissy Davis, they had the name all picked out. Ronald James Davis. Nobody had any clue until I was there, female with boyish features, and they had no clue what to do. So I just became Ronnie. I really kind of like that name, though, especially after I was so afraid of losing it.

We all arrived in NYC around the same time, Bonnie, Cindy, and I. And all with the same intention. Stardom. Despite not being able to find my address at first, I was impressed with the big city, if not with its inhabitants.

Bonnie got it easy. The moment I looked at that creep Bert Healy, I just KNEW they were involved. I was about Cindy's height with shorter, dark red hair and a more sturdily built figure. Bonnie was shorter than both of us with a more heavyset build and long, blonde hair only a little darker than Bonnie's.

When I heard that we were to be sisters, that our names would drop to suit Bonnie's, I wasn't too scared. I'd always been a little resentful toward my parents for giving me such a boy's name. It was seeing all those people crowded around in masses within themselves that got to me. Losing my identity, or what I had of one. What I had been, what I was, what I could be, would be, might become.

Luckily, it was Cindy who took the greatest fall. It sounds harsh saying it like that, but it was truly lucky for me, getting to stay Ronnie. Now I had sort of a middle name, anyway. Ronnie Davis Boylan. Like getting married, sort of. Well, optimism dies hard, huh?

A smile engraved within my face, I sang with as much gusto as could be managed, "O!"

"X!" resounded Bonnie's letter.

"Y!" "Connie", next in order.

"D!"

"E!"

"N!"

We all sang in meticulously perfected harmony, "T! Oxydent!"

Then that Annie kid sang. Nasaly little voice, perky little features, a surefire rags to riches story-to-be. I tried not to let anyone see my wistful sigh. Annie. What a girlish name, what a girlish little girl. The girl I would have killed to be.

Oh well, too late. "Your clothes may be Beau Brummely, they stand out a mile, but brother, you're never fully dressed without a smile!" the words seemed to mock me as I sang, my voice low and powerful. Like a boy's.