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CHAPTER 45 Had the grrls ever bothered to hire a PR agent, or at very least a consultant, the media zoo waiting at the LAX wouldn’t have been left with quite as many negative headline materials. Kim, exhausted and pissy from an 18-hour flight and having to deal with Elvyn walking so close behind her that she couldn’t turn without tripping, was in no mood to hide her feelings from the American media. A microphone was shoved in her face and some American MTV news slut was asking her: “How does it fee to be in the USA, Kim Kissably?” “Feel?” Kim snorted, ignoring as she felt Jessie’s restraining hand n her arm. “I feel like I’m going to bloody well puke, that’s how I bloody feel!” Chatha giggled, but before she could succeed in turning American Bashing into her new favorite game, Ebony and Xavier both took one of her arms and led her away from the cameras and microphones. “Jessie Founders! Is it true you’re half American?” Taking on an awkward British accent, Jessie replied with: “Why the bloody hell would you care?” That shocked Kim enough that no more witty retorts or snarky responses were given as they made their way to the waiting limo. *** The first night in L.A., or more specifically, Hollywood, and Kim was already panicking. Their show wasn’t until tomorrow, so they wouldn’t suffer too much jetlag while performing, and Kim had taken it upon herself to take a little tour of the streets. The streets of Hollywood, where there were enough stars or celebrities around to keep the obsessed fans and hopefuls returning again and again. In Hollywood, where stars abound, Kim had been plagued by fans for signatures. In her hotel room, holding onto Jessie like a scared little child, Kim was half hysterical. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the numbers who had almost drowned her in their strange affections. They were all so forceful, so blatant, so ... so ... so bloody American! “Jess... Oh, Jess, it was...” Kim shook her head, then buried her face in the half-American’s blouse. “There were girls with my hair,” she said into the material, then came up for air. “Red, with blue streaks. There were... There were girls with spider tattoos on their shoulders, and... In places not even my clothing usually reveals, Jess... I’ve never seen pants cut so bloody low!” She withdrew from Jessie, shaking. “Goths, punks, metalheads, staring as I passed in the street... And do you know what one said?” Her voice was rising, unintentionally. “Do you know what he bloody said?” “What did he say, Kim?” “‘Heard you’ve been all over th’ place, wanna’ go?’” Kim pressed her hands over her mouth so she wouldn’t scream, then she shook her head again. “What right, what bloody right do these people have? In the middle of bloody Hollywood, they’re all following me! All posers and pretenders and people who aren’t fulfilled just being themselves... Bloody hell, I know I’m guilty of idolatry, but all I did was perform with him, fuck him, then move on! None of this trying to be and trying to impress and needing to make first contact, and bloody hell! Jess... Jess, do I have to leave this room? Ever? Tell me I can just stay here, Jess... Hide from that scary bloody world of American followers...” Jessie sighed. “And to make it all so much worse... Oh, Jessie, luv, it was terrible... Elvyn was basically stalking me the whole time! He bloody well can’t take a hint, y’know? He’s asked if we can have another go and I laughed in his bloody face, and still he comes back. Bloody fucking goth child!” Kim threw herself down on the bed, draping her arm over her eyes. “When I first met you, I never would have thought that the great Kim Kissably would be so scared of a few followers. Hell, it always seemed to me that you were waiting for this moment. You’re a grrl on the scene, Kim, proving yourself to be at least as powerful as Siouxsie Sioux.” “Maybe I don’t want it anymore.” Kim stared up at the ceiling. “What’s the bloody use of being famous? None of them can understand what I’m actually trying to say. None of them have lived my life. All those rich kids out there with the hairdye and tattoos and clothes... Jess, why do they think they have anything in common with me at all?” “Why do you think they don’t?” Kim sat up. “That’s not fair, y’know. Your whole turnaround thing; you do it whenever I bloody well have a point to make.” “Sometimes your points are a bit convoluted.” “Sometimes.” She let out a breath. “Only sometimes... I question everything.” She hung her head, then spoke before Jessie had a chance. “I realize I’m quoting another male. Please refrain from pointing out the bloody error of my ways. Because it doesn’t matter that Martin Gore is British and rather effeminate or that Black Celebration was such a powerful bloody album, he’s still technically a thing with a prick and I therefore can’t bloody well quote him without being a bloody hypocrite.” Jessie got on the bed beside her, but was hesitant to touch her. Kim had more to say, it was evident, she was just taking her time to say it. Kim pulled at one of her blue streaks of her, letting it fall down her face, her neck, down onto her chest. She breathed softly, rustling the deep blue strands. “How much do you want to bet that those girls with my hair have it professionally done? It’s so straight, perfect, bloody well boring... No passion to the application and no life in the presentation. They’re cardboard cut-out models, Jess, wasting into themselves... So anorexic, they’re probably going to start bloating like all those kids in the TV commercials asking you to stop world hunger. It makes me sick. A girl should have curves, huh?” She glanced at Jessie, then put her hand out to gently touch one of the curves on her bassist. “Like that. But I guess, yeh, they’re girls. Not grrls. They’re just trying to be... I don’t bloody understand.” Jessie put her hand over Kim’s. Her fingers ran over Kim’s long nails. She remained silent, waiting for the confused grrl to say more. “I know I don’t want this anymore. Why be an idol to the corrupted? Why make myself a sex symbol for people who think sex is just lust?” Jessie sighed. “Kim, you’ve often treated sex as just lust.” “Not like they do! I don’t think they’ve ever felt the true passion of connection. They’ve never loved.” She closed her eyes, almost hoping Jessie would miss that last part. “You always avoid that word, Ms. Kissably.” “Nah, I... It’s just a difficult concept, y’know? Hard to grasp it, but I’ve been around a lot more now. Bloody ‘ell, who knows if I’ll ever really understand the whole thing... But sometimes... Y’know.” “Do I?” “Sometimes... Jess, babe, sometimes I want to.” “And do you know who you would want to understand it with?” Kim got off the bed, starting to pace beside it. She didn’t say anything for the longest time, and when she did, it wasn’t a direct response to the question. “I don’t want to do this anymore, Jess. Fuck the fame and bloody fortune. I want it to just be usm away from people and media and mindless bloody things with pricks. Just you an’ me, out on the open moors, searching out Heathcliff’s ghost.” Jessie smirked. “What happens if you find him and lay him? He may turn out to be less than expected.” “Nah, some people... Some, you just know are good.” “Then why make the mistake of going for those who aren’t?” Kim ground her teeth. “Look, I bloody realized Elvyn was a mistake a few seconds after I picked him up, awright? If I want to bloody well hurt myself, don’t make me stay here and hurt myself with you. Because I never want to be hurt by you, Jess. And I never want to hurt you.” “So it doesn’t hurt me to know I don’t fulfill you?” “Jess-luv...” Kim backed up until she felt the dresser behind her. “I... You know I’m a bloody slut, Jessie. I can’t help it. Please don’t ask me to.” Jessie forced a smile, and reached her hand out to Kim. “Come back here, Ms. Kissably. You’re not going to get away with calling yourself a slut without proving it.” |
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Talk to LL,
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