Watching the Chanteuse on stage is an experience. People often tell of a magical evening and can remember different parts of her but have relatively little impression of the woman as a whole. Swaying hips, luscious legs, an impossible waistline, a heaving bosom barely constrained by a sequined dress and green eyes that beckon the soul. Poetry in motion, music and melody. The audience recall an enchanting evening and a sense of contentment and fulfillment.

Jessica Lapine however, the woman behind the entertainer, is pretty enough but not the drop dead gorgeous siren that her alter ego is. This suits her down to the ground because she hardly wants to be propositioned by everyone she meets. Sometimes these powers are more of curse really.