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| Thirty minutes until show time, and Kendal's nerves were beginning to get to her. She stood in front of the mirror in her dressing room, triple-checking her outfit. She was feeling a little uncomfortable- it had been a while since she'd been in the habit of wearing clothes like these. Her shirt was tight and tiny, a little black number slit straight up the front and held together with shiny sliver safety pins. Her pants were low cut, with a frayed waist and cuff line. One leg fell to the floor, long and straight, decorated with shinying silver stars, and the other one ended in a ragged tatter above her knee, showing off a tall, lace-up sliver Go-Go boot. Her hair was messy, full of tiny braids enhanced with glittery ribbons, and her make-up was loud and dark. She looked like a stranger. There was a sharp knock on the dressing room door, and a woman's voice called through the door. "In to the left wing, honey. You're on in twenty." A tiny shiver rippled through Kendal's body. Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes before she stepped out in front of thousands of screaming teenagers, and prayed that her voice didn't crack, that she didn't trip, that she didn't forget the words of her songs. She took a deep, calming breath, and made her way out of the dressing room. A tall, burly security guard stood waiting for her. "Kendal Moone?" He asked, and she nodded. "I'm Carl. If you'll follow me, please, we'll go right to your entrance." She nodded again, and trailed him through the backstage area. "Nervous?" He asked. Another nod. "Well, damned if I wouldn't be shittin' my pants about now, was I in your shoes. You're a better man than me." Kendal laughed. Carl seemed nice enough. He didn't seem to have that persona that a lot of employees of superstars seemed to have. That air of over-self-assuredness that she so hated. She kind of wished that he'd stay with her until it was time for her to sing, but he dropped her off in the wing, and left. Kendal leaned against the wall, her eyes closed, and said a quick and silent prayer over the din of the screaming fans. |
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| "Ya'll wanna watch Kendal?" Kevin asked, turning on the tiny TV in their dressing room that showed only what was going on on the stage. "Yeah, more than anything." Nick muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Turn that off." "No, wait." Brian stopped him before he could hit the power button. "You guys should watch this. She's pretty damn good, actually. Me and D watched her soundcheck." Howie nodded. "Yeah, she's got a great voice, and she writes all her own songs." Nick rolled his eyes. "What are you two? The new Kendal-endorsment campaigne?" He snapped, sinking into a plush chair and crossing his arms. Brian laughed. "Dude, grow up. We're not asking you to love the girl. And after all, it's not asking too much of you to check out your 'fine peice of ass', is it?" "Shut up!" Nick barked, but he was interupted by a bold, sweet note erupting from the projection of the concert. Ten eyes turned towards the screen, and listened to Kendal blet out a song. She was perched on a wooden stool, and strumming a shiny, blue guitar as she sang. That song was beautiful and sweet, and there seemed to be real tears in her eyes when she sang. |
| His kiss is lazy, and his hands are cold His touch is stale and tired He holds me loosly when I need his strength And he turns away when I cry I'm remembering when he loved my laugh And my hair across his face I used to think he'd love me more With each dawning day And the promises that he made to me He's thrown down to the floor He's treadly harshly across the love we had He's crushed my soul I'd thrown myself down next to it And beg him on my knees To take me back into his arms And heal the scars he's left with me If you're out there If you can hear me If you care for me at all Kiss me now And take me fast And catch me, Cuz I'll fall |