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CHAPTER 59 Seattle March, 1994 It had been two weeks since Kim shared anyone’s bed, but she refused to let herself believe it was about Jessie. Because they were friends now, and just that. It no longer mattered whom, or for that matter what, Kim slept with. It was just that she now chose of her own free will to abstain. Nothing to do with Jessie. She almost had herself convinced, too. Dave was worried about it, although he did his best not to show. A weakness like that wasn’t what Kim looked for in a guy. Instead, he hid it under being hurt and angry. He asked her continually if he had done something to piss her off, and reminded her again and again that he could leave her and her tour behind; they were on his home turf, after all. The threat didn’t hold any merit, since he never made any moves to actually leave. He did keep his distance, though, moping in his own hotel room. The last time he had made the mistake of complaining, he had told Kim he was so desperate that he hit on Heather. Kim had whirled around and literally hit him. That kept him backed down. Kim had her hair freshly dyed. It was a daring red that would never exist in nature; exactly the way she liked it. All the signs of wear and tear were carefully being replaced by her old posturing self; it was what the fans wanted, and what she wanted to show them. After all, if this would last through the early spring, she had to at least pretend to be enjoying herself again. Seattle ended up being a nicer city than any of the grrls would have expected. Kim forgave it for spawning the grunge movement almost the second she stepped off the plane; something about the city seemed more urgent and alive than any of the other American cities they had come across. It definitely had a ‘scene’; one set to counter both Los Angeles and D.C. Elvyn spent their first afternoon in the city trying to get Kim to listen to him long enough to actually finish the story of Seattle’s underground, but she had yet to find the patience for him. It was a wonder that no one had yet murdered him. Or Acwellen, for that matter; the boy hadn’t dropped his whole speech pattern once during their tour. Because of his bandmates, it seemed Xavier spent most of his time either apologizing or disappearing into Chatha’s hotel room. Kim had once caught sight of him sneaking down the hotel hallway with a pink bow tied in his hair. She had burst out laughing and he had blushed so bright red that it was a wonder he hadn’t fainted. She couldn’t blame him, though; everyone had to give into Chatha’s will from time to time. As with most of their stops on the tour, Seattle had two performances. Elvyn made a mistake on the opening for the first. *** “Chthonic all the way!” Elvyn backed away from the microphone, breathing heavily. Although it certainly wasn’t in his taste now to write songs with screaming, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to let go of the songs that started his career. Or his band’s career, perhaps; he did have to give them a great deal of the credit. Soloists outside of the more popular genres were hard to come by. The bass line cut short, but Xavier had been acting up so much already that it wasn’t worth it to even look at him anymore. Elvyn had long since decided that it was due to the girl in pink; she was on Xavier’s level, after all. Nothing like Elvyn’s own red-haired goddess, the woman he would have again. “Mistress Kissably,” he told the crowd, “has been kind enough to let us join her fine band on this, their very first American tour.” That was met by a cheer. He gave them time to quiet down again before continuing, not wanting any of his words to be missed. “She is a fine woman indeed, as all you in the audience must agree. So strong, so powerful, and so painfully beautiful. She is a woman for whom songs should be written; a woman for which songs should be sung. And so, fine audience, let me share with you my newest song... Dedicated to none other than Kim Kissably.” There were brief signs of a struggle from backstage, but whoever exploded was being held back, and Elvyn ignored the entire proceedings. He struck a chord on his guitar and began. “Oh, lady, with your blood-red hair, invade my bleeding heart...” By the time the Sextet’s set started, Kim stormed onto the stage and grabbed her microphone. She was still extraordinarily pissed off. “I see you all know,” she gasped out, “that I have a new boyfriend.” She tightened her grip on the mic. “Assuming little prick, isn’t he?” She coughed. “I mean amusing, of course. And I’m sure you’re all eager to know about him, right? The boy who avoids the media even better than our dear Raine does. How do you avoid them better than an enigma who somehow becomes an honorary member of a grrl band? Well, you’d have to ask my brand new boyfriend.” She heard a laugh behind her, and didn’t have to turn to know it was Jessie. “So let me tell you a little bit about my boyfriend, hm? I’m sure you’re just dying to know.” She tossed her head. “My boyfriend is so goth...” She grinned, getting a vicious idea. “He thinks he has animal eyes...that shine in the darkest, emptiest night...when no one else can see.” She smirked then shrugged. “My boyfriend is so goth...he makes love to his own reflection. Bloody ‘ell, I’m getting tired of cleaning black lipstick off my bloody mirror!” Behind her, a bassline had started up. Kim liked the idea of making this impromptu speech into a song, so she went with it. “So goth... He’s so goth... My boyfriend is so...goth.” She wasn’t sure if she was mad any longer, or just feeling spiteful, but she had to let it out. “My boyfriend is so goth, that I left him for one of his other personalities. Of course, it turns out that one’s just as bad as the other. Yes, my boyfriend is so goth that we can’t even kiss th’ proper way. He’s so afraid that we’ll ruin his makeup.” She hoped Raine and Ebony would forgive her, but she had to keep going. She remembered something Elvyn had told to her band during the beginnings of this tour; that he had never been able to hold a job outside his band, because his style was “beyond” those he worked for. She grinned viciously and dove in with that in mind. “My boyfriend is so goth, he loves his clothing more than his job! And if you’re going to get fired for fashion, at least have some fun along the way! Get your dreary head out of your dreary arse, and at least pretend to be alive...” She heard Chatha’s cheer behind her. “My boyfriend’s so goth; he so goth, and I decided there’s no point in pursuing this dreary fuckin’ relationship anymore... This dreary fuckin’ relationship anymore! “My boyfriend is so goth that he won’t be any more depressed when I leave him than he was any other day of his life! My boyfriend is so goth he’ll revel in the new chance to mope and whimper and to be altogether so bloody dreary. So bloody dreary. ‘Cause he’s so goth. “My boyfriend is so goth, that he wouldn’t be caught listening to a song by a punk grrl. Yeah, my boyfriend is so goth that he’s gonna continue wandering blind and not seeing what the hell he leaves in his wake! My boyfriend is so goth that he’s pompous and dreary and altogether uneventful!” She gasped in air, feeling the anger consume her. “My boyfriend is so goth, he loves his clothing more than his job! And if you’re gonna get fired for fashion, at least have some fun along the way. Get your dreary head out of your dreary arse, and at least pretend to be alive!” She shook her head violently. “This song dedicated to none other than Elvyn Daray--” she hissed it “--‘cause he’s so goth...it hurts.” The elation was gone, leaving nothing but the rage. “Fuck it...I’m going to go get drunk.” She let go of the microphone and stalked offstage. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jessie hang her head and rest her bass on the floor. At that, Kim was sure no one would follow her, so she got out of the building and found a cab to take her to the nearest bar. *** Kim sat at her small table, staring at the dregs of her Bellini. She couldn’t remember how many of the peach-flavoured rum slushes she had had, but it was getting to her. She rolled the stem of the martini glass between her index fingers, watching as the slush in the bottom swished around. It was quite amusing, in her state. A sound made her look up. It wasn’t the waitress. There was a boy in black pulling out the seat across from her. She knew she knew him, but his name or the reason why were completely eluding her. “I’ve been bar-hopping for a while now. I think I was the only one who had the idea to look for you. Elvyn’s back at the hotel, licking his wounds.” Oh. It was Xavier. The spikes were what clued her in; they were circling his wrist, which he had just rested on the table. The bracer was at least five inches wide, and the spikes were over an inch long. She wasn’t entirely sure if that was legal. Kim put her glass down, almost missing the table. It made a loud sound when it met the edge, and Xavier winced. He reached across the table and took the glass before Kim let go, so it wouldn’t tumble to the floor. “How many is this?” Xavier swirled the ice crystals in the bottom of her glass. She scowled. “What are you, 18?” “Around there.” “You’re not even bloody legal in half this country, s’don’t bloody talk to me about drinking.” “You’re barely legal yourself, Kim. You’re not as grownup as you think.” “Y’want something? I’d guess beer, righ’? You men all think sweet drinks’re for pansies an’ pussies. Only way I can drink, really. Mus’ be a pussy.” She giggled, then reached out for her glass. Xavier rested it on the table, and Kim picked it up gingerly. She cast him a suspicious look before slurping out the last few drops. “Really,” she said, “it takes a much stronger person for th’ sweet drinks, ‘cause they all have bloody straws. Y’ drink alcohol with a straw, it gets to y’ quicker. I’s a challenge, seein’ how long y’ can ‘old out wi’ a straw.” The waitress stopped by to check on them, and Xavier ordered a strawberry daiquiri, perhaps to prove Kim wrong. “No wimpy umbrella, please” were his only instructions. “An’ gimme another...” Kim shoved her glass at the waitress. “Whatever.” With the waitress gone again, Xavier leaned forward. “Everything’s about control with you, isn’t it? It’s not just your stage show.” Kim scowled. “You’re a very strong woman, Kimberly. I met you in the wake of your struggle with yourself, but I can still see that. Your tenacity impresses me, and I can tell you’re not just pretending. I’ve surrounded myself with pretenders, and it gets sickening. People like Elvyn just play control, they don’t have it. But Kim...” He paused as drinks were deposited in front of them. “You can’t make drinking about control. You just can’t. You can’t fight alcohol; you’ll always lose control and hate yourself in the morning.” Out of spite, Kim took a long sip, giving herself brain freeze. Xavier picked out the umbrella from his drink, wrinkled his nose, and tossed it aside. He drank to equal Kim, wincing at the cold. “If you realize that it’s alright to lose control from time to time, though, maybe you’d be a happier person, and you wouldn’t let Elvyn or Heather get to you like they do.” “Where’s m’ darlin’ grrl?” “Reveling in the wonders of sleep. I almost envy her.” “Why aren’t’cha with her?” “We’re not ‘together’ together. We’re just playing. She’s got another boy back home, I’ve got some other girls.” “I think I quit girls,” Kim confided a bit too loudly. “More trouble’n they’re worth. No’ tha’ blokes’re any better. Think with their pricks, y’know?” “Then I’m glad mine is a rational little fella.” He flashed a cocky grin, reminding her a little of Dave, then he sucked down half his remaining drink. He put his hand up to his head and moaned, then, feeling as the chill hit him. “Fuckin’ brain freeze.” “Fuckin’ pansy,” Kim responded, and gulped down more of her drink. Of course, she was hit by another bout of brain freeze, but did her best to hide it. “Chatha actually wanted me to keep an eye on you,” Xavier admitted. “Make sure you didn’t go off and sleep with any strange men or women while pissed out of your mind; you’re bound to make mistakes then.” “Ne’er got sick. Ne’er will. Ne’er got preggers. Ne’er will.” “So you promise not to sleep with any strange men tonight?” “You strange?” She looked over the rim of her glass at him, then started laughing. “Bloody ‘ell. 18-year-old goth. Posing, posturing little git, just like all of ‘em.” He drained the rest of his drink, getting used to the idea of brain freeze, so he didn’t react as much. His cheeks were a bit flushed, but he knew drunkenness was quite a ways away yet. “I’m not like that. Not like Elvyn or Acwellen. Definitely not like Raine or Ebony; they have the sincerity that Elvyn and his like lack, but they’re surrounded by a mystique that I would never want. I’m human, and I admit that up front. I just like the idea of being hardcore.” “Hardcore,” she murmured, staring at the deep red ring she hadn’t bothered to mix into her drink. “Jus’ another hardcore tangent... Just another dying scream.” She sighed, putting her drink down heavily. “How did I change s’bloody much, Zavier? I used t’ be hardcore. Now I’m mainstreaming it, and you can’t be hardcore like that. Y’ can’t be anything like that, ‘cept media fodder. Let ‘em eat me up and shit me out, and I’ll be ‘xactly what sells and sells and sells.” She narrowed her eyes at her drink. “I don’t want th’ money. This wasn’t ‘bout money. I don’t want th’ adoration; never ‘bout that. It was about making a point, and where’s my bloody point?” “You made your point. You did what you needed to. I think now, you’re being yourself. That’s what Blackened Princess was; you realized the airs and the façade were dangerous because of what happened to Chatha.” “I wasn’t pretendin’...” She picked up her drink and finished it, wrinkling her nose. Maybe there was a reason she had stirred the drink every time before then. “But were you telling the whole truth?” Xavier pushed away from the table, standing up. He took a breath before crossing over to her side. This was Kim Kissably, after all, and traveling with her hadn’t eased all his fears. “Look at me.” She rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh, but eventually looked up at him. “What’m I looking at?” “Were you looking for a stranger to fuck tonight?” “Well, I certainly wasn’t lookin’ fr Dave; I know ‘xactly where he is, wouldn’t need to go to a bar for him.” “Someone to make up for your experience with Elvyn?” Her eyes widened as her brain made the connection. “You think Chatha would let you?” “If it was keeping you safe, yes. We’re totally open, and we will be as long as she wants us to be.” Kim fumbled around for her wallet. When she found it, she took out too many bills and tossed them on the table. She stood up. “I might be too drunk t’... Y’know, t’ really... Get a handle on things.” Then she giggled. “Hardcore... Think you can get a handle? I’ll let y’. Tonight. Exclusively. But there’s nothin’ after t’night, awright?” He put his hand on her arm, and she realized then how strong he must be. She took in his nice body and extremely tousled hair for the first time, and lingered on his subtly lined eyes. “Just tonight...” He closed the distance between them and kissed her. She didn’t remember that she had been abstaining since making up with Jessie. *** When Kim woke up in a tangle of her hotel sheets and saw Xavier’s sprawled out body, she was almost disappointed to realize she didn’t regret it. In fact, the only thing she hated herself for was the hangover, which kept her in bed until the boy beside her stirred. He had raccoon eyes from sleeping in his makeup, and when he stretched she watched the muscles in his bare chest move. It was fascinating, but not in the same way it would have been last night. “This was only once,” she said softly, wary of her headache. He nodded. “I knew that from the start.” Then he grinned. “Worth every blesséd second.” She threw a pillow at him, then pulled the other one over her head. She listened to the sounds of him dressing, then the door closing behind him, and she felt peaceful. Maybe the city of Seattle would even forgive her for walking out on last night’s show, since she was planning of making this night’s an amazing event. She decided that Chatha was a lucky grrl, then wondered where Dave was.
This chapter includes the lyrics to Wasted Assumption's Chthonic, off their
first album, A Torrent of Tears, and Blood-Red Angel, off their second album,
One Last Change. |
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Talk to LL,
the author. |