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CHAPTER 38 May, 1993 Chatha was sitting on the floor backstage, watching the other grrls at their mirrors, getting ready for another show. She heaved a deep sigh, and when no one turned to ask what was wrong, she went at it again. Still, no one glanced her way. Heather was too busy working bee’s wax through her disgusting hair, making it stay in a permanently disgusting state. Geneveve was staring with fixed eyes at a new mirror image; newly bald, which had been the only thing the stoner had done to shock the group in the longest time. Ebony was working on finishing touches on Raine, which wasn’t necessary since the crowd would never see him, but Ebony had a need for perfection when it came to him. Elke was pushing her hair around, pouting at herself in the mirror, trying to decide whether she’d pulled the properly sexy fetish look for that night or not. Jessie and Kim were at the same mirror, talking softly, smiling, shoving each other. Chatha leaned back on her elbows, staring at those two for a while. She attempted one more sigh, dramatically loud, before she got bored of it and stood up. Darius had wandered away a while ago, in search of someone who would bring them drinks. He was getting tired of the whole tour thing, and wanted to be back home in London. She hoped he wouldn’t stay bored with the whole tour thing, because there was no way she’d be going to the US without him. She knew how much he wanted to see all those infamous big cities full of all those new, huge, insanely tall buildings. The US was going to be such a different world, and the thought of going there with only the other grrls backing her was sort of intimidating. “Y’know,” she said out loud. Kim glanced at her for a moment, but that was about it before she went back to lecturing Jessie on her wardrobe. Something about it getting more and more like the others’, which just wasn’t her style. Chatha shrugged, then spoke again. “Y’know, ah think ah’d really be ‘ome sick if ah di’n’t ‘ave Darius wi’ me.” That got Ebony to look over. “Is that your way of saying you really are homesick, darling Chatha?” She kicked at the floor with her pink running shows. “Maybe.” “We only have a few more shows left. We’ll be back in London soon.” “Then in th’ States. Y’think ‘e’ll come wi’?” “If he doesn’t, you can find yourself an American boy for the trip.” “Ah don’ think Kim’d be ‘appy if ah got m’self an American boy.” “Kim?” Ebony left behind her mirror and fiancé, walking over to where Kim was offering a gray sweater to Jessie, something to put over the tank top that she had been insisting for the past ten minutes was completely out of character. “What, Eb?” “Would you be mad at Chatha if she picked up a boy in the States?” “So long as he’s clean, I don’t think I’d mind.” “Bu’ wha’ll Darius say?” Chatha couldn’t quite wrap her mind around a boy in the States and one waiting back home. “Has he told you you’re exclusive?” Kim shoved her hair back out of her face so she could actually see Chatha. “Nah, we ‘aven’t talked abou’ i’.” “Well, ask him. He’s bloody fortunate to have someone like you, Darlin’, and he’d be a total arsewipe if he protested sharing you.” “S’... Ah can ‘ave more’n one boyfrien’?” “If Darius is okay with it, I wouldn’t see any problems. Chatha, no one can expect anyone as easily distracted as you are to stay with just one guy.” “Ah’m no’ easily distracted!” “Awright, someone with such high standards.” Kim smiled. “Ah, there he is now, Darlin’. We’ve still got twenty minutes ‘till th’ show. That’s time enough to discuss.” “Bu’ wha’... Wha’ do ah say?” “Ask him what kind of a relationship you’re in. He will immediately panic.” Kim smiled again. “Ask him whether or not he’s interested in others girls, or other guys for that matter, and whether or not he wants to come to the States with you. He’ll get it.” “Bu’ that’s no’ even statin’ th’ question!” “Girls are never blatant.” “Nah, bu’ grrls are.” Chatha stuck her tongue out at Kim before turning around to go blurt out “Can w’ see othe’ people’n still be t’gethe’?” to a very shocked Darius. *** “Now why, oh why, oh why do people always assume that a song is about a guy and a girl? Hm? You hear a love song, and it’s oh, she’s talking to him; he’s talking to her. Isn’t it so romantic?” Kim made a disgusted sound, taking a step nearer the microphone. “And to make you think anything else, would I have to write ‘her’ and ‘she’ all over the place? Just so you wouldn’t forget? “Not everyone on the face of this planet only appreciates the opposite of sex! Do you know how bloody boring that would get? I mean, bloody hell, how could y’ ever pull a threesome?” The crowd cheered. Kim grinned, holding her hands up to silence them. “Yeh, I know, that would be one sad bloody world in which threesomes didn’t exist. So let’s not stand for that mentality, awright? Let’s not stand for the understanding that a love song is written by a thing with a prick for a girl or th’ other way around. I mean, let’s face it, most things with pricks writing love songs are gay! It’s all so tender and lovey dovey and mushy, no straight thing with a prick could have ever written it. “Now, I’m sure everyone in the entire world knows by now that I prefer one side t’ the other. Not that I’ve given up on th’ pricks forever. No, that would be too boring. Sometimes you just have to be, mm, filled...” She let her hair fall in front of her face. “’Course, those relationships are only fulfilling in that way. Things with pricks don’t know how to feel. They don’t know how to act, how to respond, how to make things work out. No, with them, it’s all about themselves!” “Uh, no’ always.” Chatha, up at Elke’s mic, was bouncing on her feet. “How so, Darlin’?” Kim couldn’t help but smile at the pink grrl’s audacity; no one else had ever interrupted one of her rants. “Well, see, there’s guys like... Well, Darius. ‘E’s ahl nice’n stuff. ‘E’s lettin’ i’ be abou’ me! An’ ‘cause o’ tha’, tha’ means ah can now sleep aroun’ an’ no’ be a ba’ person, so ain’t tha’ kinda’ cool?” Kim’s smile widened. “Well, thank you for sharing that, Darlin’. I knew he’d give you the right answer.” “S’ no’ ahl guys’re bad. Ah’m sure a lo’ o’ ‘em, maybe e’en most o’ ‘em are, bu’ yeh... There’s some nice’uns. An’, uh... Ah’m goin’ back t’ m’ sax nah.” Kim looked over at Jessie to see that the half-American was smiling too, a tender smile. Without looking away, Kim said into the mic: “It seems our little grrl has grown up. Just look at what a bad influence can do to you, hm?” She shook her head. “Uh, where was I?” “Self-obsessed things with pricks, I believe.” Jessie’s voice came in soft, since she was used to standing farther away from the mic for backing vocals. “Yeh, that’s it. Huh, I lost my stream of thought. How ‘bout we just play a song?” The audience cheered. “They like that idea. So how about I give you proof that there are love songs written for someone not of the opposite sex? I do believe you’ve all heard this one. So, please, help me teach the spiders to cry.” The song started with keyboards and bass, Kim singing the chorus softly. Her eyes still hadn’t left Jessie. “Without you, I couldn’t fly. I remained stranded on the ground. So I taught the spiders to cry. In their webs I will stay bound.” *** The grrls were gathered in Kim’s hotel room, which seemed to be the only place band business was ever conducted on the road. Kim had been pacing the entire time, near the back of the room. Jessie was sitting behind her, reaching out to brush her hand every time she passed. The other grrls were scattered around in front of them, Chatha using the floor for her chair, as usual. “Awright, we’ve got one very important thing to discuss. This was brought to my attention by Carroway last night. He called in, as per usual. He’s heard of the explosive reactions we’re getting to Teaching Spiders to Cry. Now, when we get back home in a week or so, we’ll have two months before we’re heading off to the States for a very short tour. Believe me, I cannot stress how short this tour will be. But see, Carroway has been asking around with a few directors--” “Were any o’ ‘em Anton Corbjn?” Chatha had perked right up. “Sorry, Chatha. We’re still not as big as Depeche Mode, we’re not going to get Corbjn directing out videos.” “Oh.” She made a face, leaning back. “In fact, most of the directors are unheard of independents, but the thing is, Carroway wants us to do a video for Spiders. He says we could do one in a week, easy, so most of those two months at home will be ours to play with. What do you say?” “Raine and I had been planning on getting married after the festivals and before the American tour. I’ll have to discuss it with him.” Ebony glanced over her shoulder, at the door. “Do you want to go do that now? I’m sure even Raine would allow you one more week of time with the band.” “He probably will.” Ebony didn’t make any move to leave. “What will they have us doing in this video, then, Kim?” Heather was being her usual self, standing as close to the door as she could get without actually being in the doorway. “I don’t know. But if whatever gets proposed isn’t acceptable, we can always tell Carroway and his directors to bugger off. I, personally, think it might be fun to make a video. I’ve never done it before.” “Ah wanna’ do one, def’nitely. Will i’ ‘ave spide’s in i’? Ah’m sorta’ afraid o’ spide’s, bu’ no’ tha’ much. Will i’ ‘ave huge spide’s in i’? Like Elke’s spide’s? All big an’ hairy an’--” “I don’t know, Darlin’.” “Oh.” “Look, I just need to know so I can report back to Carroway, is anyone against making a video? I mean, dead bloody set against it?” “I don’t want much camera time if we make one.” Heather again. “I wouldn’t worry about that at all.” Kim scowled. “No one would want to watch a video that features you.”This
chapter includes lyrics from the song Teaching Spiders to
Cry, off the grrls'
second album, Blackened
Princess. |
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Talk to LL,
the author. |