Hard Rock Hot Heart

by Laura Anne Turner

  Behind the three of us, Nellie sat behind her huge double bass drum kit on a pedestal. I was always amazed at how a slender and delicate girl like Nellie could pound out such a powerful beat, but then I knew she’s got stamina, and not just behind the drums. On that particular night I remember her wearing skimpy black shorts, and a black tank top with ‘The Coldhearts’ logo in purple on it. Nellie’s the only one among us with short hair, but I absolutely do adore her Alice Cullen hairstyle. I think everybody does, but I believe Jenny likes it even more than I do, and of course our ‘Crazy Bitches’ in the audience, who call her ‘Nellie Alice Coldheart’.

  Our ‘Crazy Bitches’ as I’ve come to name our dedicated fan girls, went totally crazy that night. In our show we absolutely gave them what they were expecting from us, namely four hot, sexy girls, rocking hard, and giving them a good time. Already after the first couple of songs bras landed at our feet onstage. That was another thing that frequently happened during our shows.

  Much too soon we were playing the last song of our regular set, which was our heavy metal cover version of ‘Drive’, that epic song from the ‘L-Word’ TV show. While playing that song I asked a busty young woman up onto the stage. I kissed her and fondled her breasts and butt just like I had seen Taylor Momsen do during her early gigs.

  And then the song was over and all hell broke loose. The crowd went absolutely crazy, they cheered and whistled and girls were screaming. Some of them were actually crying.

  We all bowed to the audience, before we disappeared behind the curtain for a short break. We soon went onstage again to play our encore. When the final chord of this evening faded, we bowed again. We waved to the audience, threw palm kisses to our Crazy Bitches, and took the obligatory selfie with the audience.

  When we finally came backstage again we were covered in sweat, totally exhausted, but high on adrenaline. In the first place we were totally happy that our first gig with our Baby Doll Jenny was such a tremendous success. I gulped down the rest of my bottle of water, before I called my girls together to form a circle for our little band ritual, which we always perform before and after our gigs.

  “Call us cunt band, we don’t care! Call us bitches we don’t mind! Black-hearted Coldhearts, Bitch Goddess Coldhearts, rock, rock, rock!”

  We gave us High Fives and congratulated Jenny to her first epic performance with us. As it happened frequently Ina’s mind was working the same way as mine, because she shouted with wild excitement, “Ladies, it’s time to celebrate. The night is still young. We’re having a party at our place.”

  Just as Ina spoke those words, the backstage area began to fill with Crazy Bitches, and also our road crew, my older brother Ralf and some of his friends, who help us to transport and set up our equipment, had come in, too. Within moments a bunch of screeching teenage girls surrounded Ina and I, but I didn’t pay attention to them, because that was the very moment I noticed her for the very first time.

  Her, my Crazy Bitch Tanja. And now I kept tossing and turning in my bed, because of her. And because of her I took this trip down memory lane. I couldn’t help it, but again and again I saw it before my mind’s eye, just like a movie that is on a constant rerun. I saw it again, the very first moment our glances met. I relived the moment I let her go after our very first night of epic sex. I let her go without asking for her phone number or address. And I remembered my feelings that went back and forth between utter relief and the impression of being the greatest fool on earth.

  +++

  In the days that followed, I couldn’t stop thinking about the girl with the long blonde braids and the face of an angel, and I got butterflies in my stomach whenever I did. It was obvious she wasn’t like the other girls I slept with and forgot. She actually meant something to me.

  In den folgenden Tagen dachte ich zwar mehr als einmal an das Mädchen mit den langen blonden Zöpfen und dem Engelsgesicht, aber ich konnte und wollte lieber nicht noch mehr Zeit mit Nachdenken über sie verbringen. Erstens, wollte ich echt nicht so genau wissen, was genau Tanja mir bedeutete. Zweitens, es half ja nichts, ich hatte weder Handynummer noch Adresse von ihr, ja ich kannte nicht mal ihren Nachnamen. Folglich würde ich sie wohl niemals wiedersehen. Drittens, ich hatte einen Job als Designerin und den Rest meiner freien Zeit brauchte ich für die Band.

  I didn’t spend too much time thinking about what exactly Tanja meant to me, though. Partly it was because I was afraid to. Secondly, it was of no use, since I didn’t have her phone number. I didn’t have her address either. I didn’t even know her last name. So, I’d never see her again. Thirdly, I had a day job as a freelance designer, which took up most of my time, and the band took up nearly all of the rest.

  More than once I’d thought that the band would need a manager and a booking agency sooner or later, at least if we wanted to be successful and to develop further. In my capacity as the band’s manager I’d done something I was especially proud of doing. Of course good luck and some connections had helped me, too. Anyway, I’d gotten us a gig as the opening act for a hugely popular British glam rock band called ‘Testosterone Poison’.

  They were a bunch of almost comically crude cock rockers, something like the British answer to the American band ‘Steel Panther’. They impersonated throwbacks to an earlier ‘sex and drugs and rock-n-roll- era’. I suspected their fans could be pretty crude, too, so I knew it wouldn’t be easy for us as a ‘cunt band’ to play for them. It was as a real challenge for us, but I liked that.

  There was something else, besides the fact that we were getting paid a lot more than we’d ever been paid before. I was ambitious for us. We had become rock stars in our hometown and our region, and we were notorious there, but I wasn’t satisfied with that. Nationally or even internationally we were largely unknown, although a handful of people from the US and Australia had downloaded a couple of our songs. So, opening for the cock rockers was a chance for us to really start working at becoming bigger than we were. We had a chance to play our biggest venue yet, in front of an audience of maybe ten thousand people that had never heard of us, and who had come to see a dumb-ass bunch of cavemen, and try to win them over against the odds.

  I knew Ina was up to it, because she was a badass rocker girl just like me. I wasn’t worried about Nellie either, because I knew she was talented, and that she would stay cool regardless what happened. I wasn’t quite sure about or newest member, our ‘Baby Doll’ Jenny. She was the kind of girl who could deliver a really badass performance once she got on stage and we got started playing. But she was also the kind of girl who could wet her panties before the gig started.

  Like the rest of us Jenny’d read about ‘Testosterone Poison’ online, and she’d seen some of their videos on YouTube. She seemed to be utterly disgusted by the idea of ‘The Coldhearts’ being on the same bill as the dickheads. Actually, she seemed wildly indignant that they even existed. I suspected that her own experience with such jerks, for example the asshole drummer of her former band, played a role in her behavior.

  I waited calmly for her to stop bitching. When she was done I showed her my most charming smile and explained how things were. “We’re getting paid a lot of fuckin’ money for the half hour we’re playing here, Baby Doll,” I told her, “and the crowd we’re playing for? It’s our biggest ever!” I leaned in close to her, and went on in an urgent tone. “And if we want to get bigger, we’re gonna have to leave our comfort zones. We’re gonna have to be ready to fight for a bigger and better future for ourselves.”

  I could tell she wasn’t happy or convinced. I put my index finger under her chin, making her look me straight in the eye. I lowered my voice, and in a husky whisper I said, “C’mon, Baby Doll, we’re a fucking cunt band and we don’t care, remember?” I grinned at her fiercely, and added, “We’re the black-hearted Coldhearts, and we’re gonna show those dickheads how to rock.”

  Her face told me she still wasn’t buying it, and she certainly had reasons not to buy it. I knew this gig wasn’t going to be eas
y for us. That much became clear, when we arrived in the backstage area. While it was true that the promoter was paying us well, he wasn’t showing us any respect. We’d been relegated to a dressing room that was hardly big enough for the four of us. To make things worse the guys from ‘Testosterone Poison’ were sitting in the lounge we had to walk through to get to the stage. I put on my best bitch face and led the others toward the entrance.

  I immediately knew we were in for some unpleasantness when one of them put down his beer bottle and pointed at Jenny.

  “Hey you!” he called. I recognized him as ‘Long Dick’, their singer. His blonde hair was nearly as long as Jenny’s hair or my own, and he was wearing more makeup than we were, too. He had on a leather vest that showed off his hairy chest, and his leather pants were tight enough to make it obvious why he called himself ‘Long Dick’.

  When Jenny and the rest of us ignored him and kept heading toward the stage he got up from the sofa. He pointed at Jenny again, smirking and leering. “Hey you with the black hair and the big, fucking ass! Want to join me in our tour bus later? You look like you need a good ride.”

  His band mates began to laugh, and when I saw our black-haired beauty’s face turn pale, I knew I had to do something to keep the situation from getting out of hand. So I put my arm around Jenny’s shoulder, and addressed him. “Sorry Dick,” I said, “Jet-Black Jenny here is my Baby Doll,” I grinned at him. “Well, she’s our Baby Doll, actually, but she’s never gonna be yours!”

  The stupid expression on Long Dick’s face made it obvious that he was too drunk or wasted to understand what I’d told him. Or maybe he normally thought with his dick instead of his brain? Anyway, he got a clue after one of his band mates laughed coarsely and said, “You’re wasting your time, Mate!” I recognized him as their lead guitarist, ‘Tommy Trousersnake’. “All the chicks in this cunt band play for the other team!”

  “The fuck?” said their drummer in disgust. “You mean they’re all a bunch of cunt-lapping dykes?”

  I was disgusted with their vulgarity and the disrespect they were showing us, but rather than becoming enraged as I easily could have, I flashed them one of my tigress grins, threw back my head, and laughed at them wildly. Striking a provocative pose, I raised my hands high over my head, making the sign of the horns with both hands, and thrusting my hips out at them, I snarled, “That’s right, that’s right! Drool, motherfuckers, drool!”

  Obviously, I was provoking them, and I knew that could be risky, but I didn’t want them paying any more attention to Jenny. Of course none of the cock rockers facing us liked being laughed at, and especially not their lead singer. “You teasing cunts! You all need to be fucked in the ass!” he snarled, taking a step closer to me. “And I’d fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk for three whole fucking days, you blonde slut!”

  Breathing calm and regularly I just stared back at him evenly. I wasn’t afraid of him. Since that day ten years ago when I submitted to Jakob’s will, I’d learnt my lesson. I had taken self-defense courses, and practiced at the gym regularly; plus I’d learnt yoga and relaxation techniques to help. He was bigger than me, but I was still pretty sure I could take care of myself.

  But then Jenny’s temper got the better of her, and she took a step forward and stood next to me. “Why do you have to do this? Why do you treat us like shit?” she screamed. “We all love rock music! We all have that in common! Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Isn’t rock music what really matters to us all?”

  Apparently even their dizzy brains understood her message, or at least all of them, but their lead singer did.

  “Let’s give it a rest, lads,” their bass player, ‘Mike Lovemuscle’, who had been quiet before, put in a word. “After our show, there’ll be fucking dozens of girls who know how to make a man feel appreciated, unlike this cunting lot!”

  Except for ‘Long Dick’ the others laughed. Mike smiled ironically, took out a joint, lit it, and handed it to their lead singer. “C’mon, Dick, forget them!”

  Dick grabbed the joint, and took a long pull on it. Then he sat down on the sofa again, scowling.

  We walked past them towards the stage entrance, where I stopped. I took Jenny by the shoulders, and locked eyes with her. “Listen, Baby Doll,” I said, “I know the dickheads upset you. But you know what we’re gonna do now? We’re gonna go out there, and show those motherfuckers who we are!” I said it loud enough for Ina and Nellie to hear. “Let’s make it our show! Are you ready to rock, Jet-Black Jenny?”

  “Yeah! I’m ready! Let’s rock,” Jenny replied, her eyes gleaming.

  I grinned at her. “That’s what I want to hear, My Heavy Metal Baby Doll!”

  Ina and Nellie were grinning, too, and together we pulled Jenny into a tight circle so we could begin our pre-show ritual.

  “Call us cunt band, we don’t care, we’ll fuckin’ rock the world! Black-hearted Coldhearts, Bitch Goddess Coldhearts, rock, rock, rock!”

  After we were done exchanging High Fives with one another, we took our instruments and hit the stage, while our intro blasted from the speakers. For this special occasion we’d chosen the ‘Pink Panther Theme’ for dramatic effect. I was wearing a blood red crop top with ‘The Coldhearts’ logo on it, and that displayed quite a bit of my full breasts. I also had on tight black leather pants. My blonde hair was flowing freely over my shoulders.

  Ina to my left was wearing a tight black miniskirt, while a pale blue tank top showed off the tattoos that covered her arms. She was wearing fishnets and her Doc Martens. Jenny to my right was wearing tight black jeans and her favorite green tank top that matched the color of her striking eyes almost perfectly, and which incidentally showed off the tattoos on one arm, too. Nellie was wearing tight black shorts and thigh highs, as well as a black, cropped tank top with ‘The Coldhearts’ logo in red letters on it. She had also decided to look like a Goth girl, having dyed her hair as black as Jenny’s, and wearing heavy black eye-makeup.

  The intro stopped in the same moment as I stood behind the microphone stand with a bright white spotlight shining on me, while the rest of the stage was only dimly lit. As expected, not many people in the audience tonight seemed to know who we were, so not all that much applause greeted us. Of course there were more than a few jerks in the audience who catcalled us, demanding that we strip for them. I just flashed my tigress smile and raised both my hands in the sign of the horns. And right, I saw a group of girls in the audience who thrust their own hands in the air in response, returning my horn hands salute. Some of our Crazy Bitches were standing in front of the stage, led by Jana, the Butch girl, who was one of our truest fans. She and the rest of our little group of fans had come a long way to see us, and it was good to have their support right now.

  “Good evening, we’re ‘The Coldhearts’, and we’re gonna fuckin’ rock this place tonight,” I snarled into the mic, and our Crazy Bitches responded by cheering and whistling. “This song’s called ‘Savage Rock,’ I screamed loud enough the farthest corner of the concert hall could hear it.

  I nodded curtly to Nellie, and she began pounding out a hard, solid beat, and then Jenny joined her with her bass, and when I added the rhythm with my Flying-V to their bass and drums, I felt the floor of the concert hall shake. Ina made her own guitar scream, before I started to sing the song’s first line,

  ‘It doesn’t fucking matter who you really are!’

  And my girls all chanted their response, ‘Rock is for savages! Rock is for hungry hearts!’

  Our Crazy Bitches down there in the crowd knew the song well enough to chant the chorus line along with us. And I could see others in the crowd begin to bang their heads along to our beat.

  ‘It doesn’t fucking matter how you spend your days! Rock is for savages, Rock is for hungry hearts!’

  More and more, the crowd was caught up in our rhythm, and more and more members of the audience thrust their hands in the air in the horn-handed salute, and more and more of them chanted “Rock
is for savages!” along with us.

  ‘Hear a guitar shred, and you can shred your past! Rock is for is for savages, Rock is for hungry hearts!’

  The line about shredding was Ina’s cue to show that she could shred, and how she did tonight! Looking cool and regal, she took up the song’s theme and elaborated on it, her fingers and her pick moving faster and faster under the flashing strobe lights. And when her solo ended, the crowd shouted its approval. Our song ended a few verses later with a set of pyros going off, and to my relief the audience roared. It was the moment I knew we had them. I grinned at my band mates, and made the sign of the horns to the audience again and again. When I was growing up I’d seen Ozzy Osbourne and Ronnie James Dio do it in video clips, and I’d always wanted doing it on stage, too.

  Our set went by fast, and before I knew it, we came to the next to last song in our set, and I announced it, saying, “This song is for our special girls who’re in the audience tonight, the girls we call our Crazy Bitches!” Our fan girls responded by squealing. Then I added in a low, husky voice, “This song is called ‘Drive’!” And that made our Crazy Bitches scream even louder than they had already, and I grinned down at them wickedly. It was the first time we played our metal cover of Melissa Ferrick’s classic song of lesbian love and lust for such a big audience.

  ‘If you want this, if you want this, if you want this you’re gonna have to ask nicely please.’

  I purred the song’s opening lyrics intent on seducing the audience. And I succeeded, everyone listening, rapt. As the song went I grew fiercer, and I began to feel as though I was fucking the audience with my voice. Suddenly, I knew that the great, silent audience was mine, and that I had the power to drive them in a fever.