In a week, Jennifer had become attuned to Kimberly’s song style. She approved wholeheartedly of the harsh, cruel lyrics that were the main meat of Kim’s songs, and even suggested that the band be called Femi-Nazis ‘R’ Us in accordance to the content. Kim liked that idea.

            She was spending the weekend with Gwen, leaving Jennifer and Alix to talk over what their roles as guitarists would be. Gwen’s parents had a small house outside of the city that they never visited. They considered it to be a run-down place in the middle of nowhere, but the second Gwen had let Kim into the house, she’d been in heaven. The house was filled with cedar and skylights, and it was on the edge of a forest.

            “This is life. It’s so clear an’ open. How can your parents not like this?”

            “Beats me. I don’t get how they can love London so much. You can’t breathe in that place.”

            “Maybe they’re too rich to need t’ breathe.”

            “Huh, that would be just like them.”

            Gwen didn’t like her parents. In fact, she hated them, and she hated being from their rich family with their rich expectations. In the week that she’d known Kimberly, she’d already offered to trade parents dozens of times. As it was never going to happen, they’d both given up talking about it and had instead taken time to learn they really liked each other. Really, really liked each other.

            Soon after they arrived, Kim had dragged Gwen out of the house to go on a walk. She babbled about how much she loved the forest and nature, and how romantic it all was. “I’m usually not one for romance, y’know, but it’s hard to resist when everythin’s so alive around you. You can feel the world breathin’.”

            “I would have thought you’re never one for romance. You have quite a reputation in school, I hope you realize.”

            Kim looked over at Gwen. “What sort of rep’ do I have?”

            “Well, apparently you’ve been sleeping around since middle school--”

            “No comment.”

            “--and using up boys left and right. No regard for what they may feel, in fact even trying your best to hurt them.”

            “No comment.”

            “Care to tell me why you hate them so much?”

            “I dunno’.” Kim picked up her pace a little.

            “Come on, you’re hundreds of miles away from anyone who would use this against you.”

            “I’ve only know ya’ a week, how’m I s’pposed t’ know you won’t use it against me?” She ignored the pained look that Gwen gave her and continued. “A week’s not enough to trust anyone.”

            “So you have trust issues and boy issues.”

            “Look, don’t analyze me, awright? I can hate the lads without a good reason; it’s my right.”

            Gwen shrugged. “It just seems like you do have a good reason hidden under there somewhere. You wouldn’t be so defensive otherwise.”

            “This isn’t any way to start a weekend we’re spendin’ together, Gwen m’dear.”

            “Very well then, I won’t ask anymore.”

            They walked in silence for a while. Kim held her hand out and felt the branches of passing trees brush against her palm. Finally, she sighed and turned to Gwen. “It seemed like the second I hit puberty, I had this awesome body that I didn’t know what to do with. I’d never really thought about what would happen when I grew up, y’know? I was just a kid. I was almost 13, I think. Some blokes from the school across from mine, like 15 or 16 year olds, took notice. They bothered me everyday after school for ‘bout a month. Said really awful things t’ me that I didn’t understand. I never really paid much attention t’ slang b’fore. They scared me, but I didn’t know enough t’ keep away from the buggers.” Kim shook her head and started walking again, silent.

            “Are you going to leave it to my imagination?” Gwen’s voice was soft. She knew, but she wanted to hear it said.

            “I don’t know. I don’t know if I want you to know this.”

            “I can guess, but I’d rather know for sure.”

            “What are you guessing?”

            “Rape?”

            Kim nodded. “I was 13 bloody years old. It was a gang of ‘bout six of ‘em. They all had a go. Made me feel useless and awful; like a bloody slut. I was just a kid. But I’ve been doin’ my best to use up and hurt anything with a prick ever since. They all bloody well deserve to burn in hell.”

            “You’ve never told anyone that before, have you?”

            “Nah. Never trusted anyone enough. Don’t know why I told you.”

            “Because I swear to never tell another living soul.”

            “Can I believe that?”

            “I swear by Robert Smith, Peter Murphy, Andrew Eldritch, and all that is goth.”

            “That’s a lot to swear by.”

            “Which must mean I’m sincere.”

            “If quantity equals sincerity, you’d think there wouldn’t be such taboo attached to my rep’.” Kimberly laughed.

            “Well, you get back into good moods rather quickly.”

            “Of course I do.” She sighed and looked up through the canopy of branches. The sun was filtering through, and she had to squint against it. “Nature always makes me think of a certain book, y’know. That’s why I find it so romantic.”

            “What book?”

            “Wuthering Heights. I know I’ve never seen the moors, and’ll prob’ly never see ‘em, so I just associate it to all nature.”

            “I love that book. There’s so much pain, love, honesty, and harshness. It’s incredible.”

            “That’s a bloody understatement. I treat my copy with more reverence than anyone has ever given to the Bible. I’ve even written a non-threatening, non-bitchy song for it, and for me to write a song like that, it takes a lot.”

            “What’s your song like?”

            “Huh, you expect me to just sing it for you out here in the middle of nowhere?”

            “Isn’t that the best way to do it?”

            “I dunno’...”

            “Please, Kimberly.” Gwen took hold of her hands and pouted.

            “There’s nothing scarier or cuter than a pouting goth, y’know.”

            “Well, will you sing it for me?”

            Kim leaned in for a quick kiss before even considering. “Nah.”

            “Huh, so you leave me with the quickest kiss to have ever existed and still deprive me of the song?” Gwen went back to pouting, this time dropping Kimberly’s hands and walking away.

            “Oh, do come back here.” Kim caught up to her, then pulled her close and kissed her with a kind of lingering passion and emotion she had never had the opportunity to use on a boy. Gwen responded favorably, and they ended up pressed against a tree, kissing and groping each other with amour and urgency. They were on the ground in the leaves and dirt before long, but Gwen broke it off before it could go any farther.

            Kim made a sound of disappointment. “Now what the bloody hell was that for? You’re the one who wanted a better kiss.”

            “I’m keeping it here until I hear the song, Kim.”

            “Blackmailing little bitch.” She drew her legs up and hugged her knees. “You’ll suffer too if you cut me off. That’s how it works.”

            “Is it?” Gwen stretched, then lay down in the wet leaves, her arms extended out above her head. She let out an exaggerated sigh, her chest rising then falling.

            Cocking her head to one side, Kim watched. Her fingers were tightening around her legs, but she said nothing.

            “You’re not a shy girl, Kim. I just want to hear one song.”

            “It’s not like any of my others. No one’s heard it yet.”

            “And you’d never told anyone about why you hate boys before.” Gwen stretched one leg up in the air, pointing her toe, then did the same with the other, letting out contented moans as she did so.

            Kim buried her face in her knees, not willing to let Gwen win so easily.

            “You know, it’s surprisingly warm out here. You’d think it would be much colder in March. I think I’ll just have to take off my shirt and roll around in these cool, wet leaves for a while. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

            “You’re a bitch.” Kim’s voice was muffled, as she now had her hands around her neck and was making a physical effort to not let herself look up at Gwen.

            “Ooh, sure is chilly. My nipples could cut glass, I’m sure. Not putting my shirt back on, though. I think I rather like this rolling around in the leaves thing.”

            “You’re a bitch.”

            “Sing the song and I’ll let you roll around with me. And we’ll see if these glass cutting nipples can be put to any use.”

            Unable to control herself anymore, Kimberly jerked her head up and stared at Gwen, lying in the leaves with her shirt off and her black bra undone. “You win,” she murmured. “For good bloody cause, you win.”

            Gwen smiled. “Now sing.”

            “It’s through Heathcliff’s eyes.”

            “Very well then. Sing.”

            “I’m not sure if I can with such a distraction lying in front of me.”

            “Fine.” Gwen draped her shirt over her chest. “Now sing.”

            Kim took a breath, reminding herself several times that if she didn’t now she’d just be tortured more, then she started singing softly. “Everything inside this empty heart spilled out to chase after you. I can't die, please come to me. I can't let go, please come to me. Haunt me! Damn you!

            “In the kirkyard, I heard you calling and I dared to venture. Haunt me! Damn you! Your face won't leave. I cannot live without my love and soul. I can't die, please come to me. I can't let go, please come to me.

            “Across the moors, I've heard you crying. Forgive me, love, for pushing you away. Haunt me! Damn you!

            “There is no reprieve in the flat pleasure of vengeance. You must hear me calling. Why won't you return? I can't die, please come to me. I can't let go, please come to me. Haunt me! Please.”

            Gwen sat up, clasping her shirt against her chest. “Simply amazing. You should write more songs like that.”

            “I can’t. It’s not good for my image. I’m startin’ up my own band, y’know. I hope ... I hope you’re okay with that.”

            “Yeah, I’m fine with it. Only problem I can see is that you don’t have a stage name.”

            “Well, what sort o’ stage name should I have?”

            Gwen crawled across the ground to Kim, keeping one arm up to keep holding her shirt in place. “Well... We need to find some sort of descriptor, and turn that into your name.” She straddled Kim and kissed her deeply, then pushed her down to the ground. Staring down into her eyes and smiling, she finally let go of her shirt. “You’re kissably good. My dear little Kim Kissably.”

 ***

 The girls were back at the house a few hours later, after a lot of playing and exploration in the forest. Kimberly burst through the doors, then whipped around and shoved Gwen playfully. “You ripped my favorite shirt, bitch. Hope you’re happy.”

            “Thoroughly.” Gwen caught her arms, kissed her, then left her standing just inside the doorway. “I’m interested in this band idea of yours. Any chance you need another singer?”

            “Gwen... Look, I’m really sorry, but I could just never have a relationship with someone in my band. I’m a bossy little bitch and I’d end up making you hate me. It’s best that you never get to see that side of me.”

            “Hey, I’m cool with that. I was just wondering.”

            “Good.”

            “Who else do you have in your band-to-be, then?”

            “Alix. You’ve met her. She’s the one who was stupid enough to get me into the embarrassing situation that led to us happily getting together.”

            “Ah yes, the clueless bitch. I don’t understand how she could be your best friend, but if you insist on still calling her that, I’ll let you.”

            “Do you think you could help me figure out a stage name for her too? Alexandra Stark is just ... boring, don’t you think?”

            “Hmm... Well, I heard someone call another Alexandra I know Elke once. It’s a version of the name.”

            “Elky? As in like an elk?”

            “No, Elke. E - L - K - E. I think it’s Germanic.”

            “Ah, sehr kuhl.”

            “Sprechst du Deutsch?” Gwen sounded surprised.

            “Ja, ein bisschen. How do you know it? You’re not in my class.”

            “Oh, extracurricular hobby. German, names, and goth music take up most of my time. I’ll have to cut back on those now that I have a new bad habit, however.”

            “And what’s your new bad habit, then?”

            “You, of course.”

            Kim laughed. “It’s always nice to be a bad habit.”

            “Always.”

            “I think I like the sound of Elke, but Elke Stark isn’t quite ... right.”

            “Well, correct me if I’m wrong, but your friend Alix seems like a bit of a self-centered bitch.”

            “Jus’ slightly.” Kim snorted.

            “Well, then, let’s give her a sarcastic name. Fairness. Elke Fairness.”

            “Oh, she’ll hate me for that! I like it.”

            “Anyone else in your band-to-be yet?”

            “Ah, only Jennifer Coleman. She’s our backup guitarist, as if having one guitarist already wasn’t enough.”

            “How about Geneveve instead of Jennifer?”

            “That works. More ... ethereal.”

            “You’re good.”

            “What?”

            “It means white phantom. Phantom ... ethereal. Connected words.”

            “I didn’t know what it meant. Huh... I could really play with her image if she agrees to be Geneveve... I’ll forbid her to wear anything but white! Her hair’s already white, she shouldn’t complaint too much.”

            “Glad you approve.”

            “I think I approve of all your ideas. You’re a genius, Gwen.”

            “You’re lucky to have me, then, are you?”

            “More than.” Kimberly was watching Gwen as she moved around the room. She was ready for a repeat of what happened back in the forest, but Gwen was babbling on about something.

            “What was that?”

            “Well, Geneveve needs a last name doesn’t she?”

            “Hardly. We don’t need to bother with that. Maybe later. There are some more things I’d like to work out with you and they have nothing to do with Geneveve having a last name for her stage name.”

            “I think you gave it to her, though.”

            “What?”

            “Geneveve Hardly.”

            “Okay, now are you satisfied? You’ve named my band mates. I thank you deeply, and now will you please let me show my appreciation?”

This chapter includes lyrics to the song Darkling Asking, off the grrls' second album, Blackened Princess.
The lyrics were written by 'Kim Kissably', and are © LL Hager 2000.

Index
Next
Back

Talk to LL, the author.
And keep in mind that everything on this page is © LL Hager 2000 - 2003 unless otherwise noted.