Oh my.
* * * * *
“I wanna be you!” I shouted, drunk on margaritas mixed with Fat Tires as Stella and her band stood in a Rock Chick huddle during one of her breaks.
Her eyes turned to me. “Funny, until you came in tonight, looking all groupie slut, I wanted to be you. I love the way you dress.” Her eyes did a full body sweep and she gave me a meaningful, but smiley, look.
I knew what she was talking about. Seconds after Hector and Luke left, Daisy informed me that she, Roxie, Tod and Stevie had gone shopping. Since I was shorter and smaller than the rest of the girls, I couldn’t share clothes so they’d bought me my Eighties Rock Video Bimbo outfit. It came complete with a torn up black T-Shirt with “Stella and The Blue Moon Gypsies” across the br**sts (so torn, it was falling off one of my shoulders, exposing my thin black bra strap and the two “o’s” in “moon’ were blue moons), a shorter-than-short (or even decent) denim mini-skirt with a ragged hem, a wide, black belt with a heavy, oval buckle with a rose stamped on it (they’d heard about Hector’s tattoo, of course) and a pair of black motorcycle boots.
Yes, motorcycle boots.
Yes, Seth Townsend’s perfect Ice Princess daughter was tramping around Denver in motorcycle boots.
Replete with square toes and silver hoops connecting straps that went up from the soles and around the ankle.
The boots were aces.
My hair was teased out to uber-volume, all waves and ringlets going up, out and down and my makeup was so beyond heavy, I felt it on my face like it weighed a ton.
And I didn’t care.
I didn’t care that I looked like a bimbo groupie from hell.
Because I loved rock ‘n’ roll!
“I love rock ‘n’ roll!” I shouted at Stella.
“Join the club, sister,” Ally shouted to me, laughing.
“Good Lord,” Shirleen muttered and Daisy giggled.
“Will you teach me to play guitar?” I asked Stella, knowing I was pushing it. She was a big star, well, in Denver anyway, if the crowd was anything to go by. And she had a recording contract. They were going on the road soon to promote their new album.
“Sure,” Stella replied on a smile.
“I’ll pay,” I promised.
Her smile got bigger. “Friends and family discount,” she said then leaned in and whispered, “which means free.”
“Cut your teeth on Guitar Hero, it’s the only way to go,” Annette, who I’d met when the Rock Chicks came to my gallery weeks ago and who also ran a head shop across the street from Fortnum’s, advised.
“Guitar Hero!” Buzz, Stella’s bass guitarist snapped, sounding (and looking) affronted. “Fuck Guitar Hero!”
“Guitar Hero’s the shit,” Annette shot back.
“Guitar Hero’s for pussies,” Buzz returned then looked at me with a smile. “I’ll teach you guitar,” he offered.
“I’ll teach you drums. Drums are where it’s at.” Pong, Stella’s drummer, moved in.
“Fuck the drums, I’ll teach you the sax. You blow a horn, you know cool.” Hugo, Stella’s saxophonist got close.
“Yay!” I shouted and clapped, too excited to turn any of them down.
An arm went around my waist and I found my body moved back several feet from the band. I looked up and saw Eddie had hold of me.
“Maybe you can decide to learn to be a rock star when you aren’t shitfaced,” Eddie suggested, eyes on the band.
“Okay,” I agreed readily even though I’d already decided I was going to be a rock star.
Forget Veronica Mars.
I wanted rock ‘n’ roll!
Eddie’s eyes moved to me, he looked at me a second and I saw him smile, dimple and everything.
“I like your dimple,” I told him.
His eyes flashed then they got all glittery (which was hot!) and, just like his brother, his body started shaking with laughter.
Finally, his eyes moved to Jet.
“You wanna take over here?” he asked her.
Jet looked at Eddie then her gaze moved to Daisy then Ava then to me.
“Let’s go to the restroom,” she announced and didn’t wait for me to reply. She just took my hand and dragged me to the restroom.
When we got into the restroom, no one used the facilities. Just like the girls on Sex and the City, they all turned to the mirrors and started fixing their lip gloss.
I’d always wanted to go to the restroom with my girlfriends and fix my lip gloss.
And here I was, doing it!
Wasn’t that great?
“I love Eddie. He’s my favorite of Hector’s siblings,” I informed Jet magnanimously, turning to a mirror and digging my lip gloss out of my pocket (Indy had taught me how to go purse-less at a rock gig, lip gloss, ID, money and credit card in front pocket, cell phone in back).
“I’ll let him know.” Jet smiled at me.
“You have a beautiful smile,” I told her, “You’re really pretty but when you smile, I swear to God, you’re so beautiful, you make my heart squeeze.”
I saw Jet blink like this surprised her (and how bizarre was that, she had to know she had a beautiful smile, if she didn’t she was blind) but I was too happy to be putting on lip gloss in the restroom with my girlfriends to take too much notice.
“Eddie likes you too,” Ava told me and I saw through the mirror her eyes were on Jet.
“Aces!” I cried, excited that Eddie liked me, heck, excited that anyone would like me.
Daisy giggled her Christmas bells giggle.
Jet got closer to me. “He’s a little worried about you though.”
I finished with my lip gloss and looked at her as I shoved it back in my pocket (this was hard, my skirt was tight).
“Worried?”
“Yeah,” she replied and I realized with some surprise that she was being serious.
“Why on earth is he worried?” I asked, forgetting, for one shining moment, that my life was one devastating trauma after the other.
“He doesn’t know, can’t put his finger on it,” Jet explained. “He talked to me about it and he wanted us to make sure you’re okay.”
Daisy and Ava got closer and I looked at them. They all looked serious now and my happy buzz slipped a notch.
“You know, sugar, I been through what you been through,” Daisy told me.
My confused eyes moved to her.
“You have?”
She got closer. “Was workin’ at Smithie’s, it’s a strip joint. Marcus part-owned it back then. I didn’t know him but I saw him come in every once in awhile. After a show, one of the customers raped me behind Smithie’s. It wasn’t as bad as what you went through but it was bad.”