Time flies by and soon it’s time for the gig of ‘The Coldhearts’. We watch in awe how they play their set. These girls know how to rock. And Bette is always the leader. She’s a goddess on stage. But in spite of this again and again my eyes return to Nellie behind her drum kit. There are those moments when our eyes meet, and my heart begins to beat a faster rhythm.
And then towards the end of their set Bette announces a song called ‘Dead End Girl’. It starts slowly, with Bette’s voice soft and insistent…
‘Dead End Girl, listen to me, Dead End Girl, you’re not free…’
And as Bette sings about all the ways that a girl can be trapped, by circumstances, by the people around her, I can see the girls in the audience listen to her, rapt. And when her voice rises and becomes more and more compelling, the song becomes faster and harder, and I’m suddenly chilled by her words, a shiver running down my spine, as she seems to be singing about me, about the girl I once was, Jenny the slut…
‘Dead End Girl, get off your back! Dead End Girl, get off your knees!’
And then her voice becomes urgent and commanding, and the sound matches her, becoming ever louder and forceful, until Bette screams into the microphone,
‘Dead End Girl, do you wanna be free? Dead End Girl, get on your feet! Dead End Girl, come with me!’
When the song ends, there’s a brief silence, and then the girls in the audience erupt, screaming! And I can’t stop screaming with them!
Next thing I know it’s nearly midnight. We put on our coats and jackets, and go outside to watch the fireworks. It’s a cold and clear night, and I’m glad I have brought my woolen hat. Somebody pours cheap champagne into plastic cups, and distributes them to us. Emilia clutches at my arm, slightly shivering from the cold.
“Jennifer Meier, I love you. Happy New Year,” she says.
“I love you, too, Emilia. Happy New Year.”
Our lips crush together, and we kiss, a sweet, and loving and passionate kiss.
We wish a happy new year to our friends Marlon and Sophie, and to Robin and Andrea. And then there’s my best friend Martin, an unknown dark-haired girl cuddling into him. He must have picked her up at some point during ‘The Coldhearts’ show, while my attention was focused on their performance.
“Happy New Year, Blackie,” he says, wrapping his free arm around me, and kissing me on my cheeks. “This is Maria,” he introduces the girl. “Maria, this is Jenny, my best friend. I call her Blackie,” he giggles. “And this is her girlfriend Emilia.”
“Happy New Year, Maria, nice to meet you,” I say, giving her a hug.
“Happy New Year, Jenny.”
And suddenly we’re surrounded by ‘The Coldhearts’. Bette slings her arms around my shoulders, pulling me closer. Her lips touch mine, and involuntarily I close my eyes. I feel the warmth of her body against mine, even though we are wearing thick coats. For a brief moment my old self, Jenny the slut, raises her ugly head, as a wave of desire runs through my body. I remember Sherinia and what she did to me, and I don’t want to be another plaything for a sexy, but heartless girl. Resisting giving in, I’m not parting my lips to let Bette’s tongue slip into my mouth. Instead, I gently push her away. And Bette understands.
“Happy New Year, Jen,” she says, a smile playing on her blood-red lips.
“Happy New Year, Bette.”
She pulls Emilia into an embrace, kissing her cheeks, and wishing her a happy new year. Then Bette puts her arms on Emilia’s and my shoulder, bringing us together in a close circle.
“Listen, guys. I like you a lot, the both of you, and I was wondering if you wanted to join us for a nice little after-show party later. I’m sure my heavy metal bitches would love that,” she says with a grin, tilting her head in the direction of the other ‘Coldhearts’. Looking over Bette’s shoulder I see them standing close by, with Ina and Caro making out, while pretty Nellie looks slightly lost, being surrounded by a bunch of fan girls.
“We all live together,” Bette continues, “but we all have own bedrooms. We rented an old house in the country. It’s a lot cheaper, and we can be as loud as we wanna be.” She giggles. “So what about the two of you? Want to join our little private party later?” She looks expectantly at Emilia, and then at me. “We don’t do drugs by the way, if that’s your concern. We smoke a little weed every now and then, that’s all. And drink booze of course. We have plenty of it at home.”
I know what Bette’s invitation means. She’s asking us to go home with ‘The Coldhearts’, and to have sex with one or two or even all of them. And part of me wants to. The part of me, that’s still Jenny the slut. But I’ve changed. I don’t want to fuck someone I hardly know, someone who doesn’t love me. Yet, I leave the decision to Emilia. Looking at her, I’ll let her make the decision. If she wants to go, I’ll join her.
Emilia looks into my eyes for a long moment, and then she clears her throat, before she turns to Bette. “It’s really good of you to ask, Bette! Many thanks for the invitation. But I think we should go back with the guys in our band. We came here together, and we should leave together. Maybe we can see you guys some other time?”
Bette looks back at her for a moment, before her lips curl up to a broad grin. “I understand, Emilia. Jenny and Emi, young love, huh? You guys are so cute. Never mind, I’m not mad at you. In fact, I kind of envy you.” She laughs and slaps our shoulders. “It was fun meeting you. See you around, guys.” She turns, joining Nellie and the group of fan girls.
I look at Emilia, and when her face lights up with her beautiful smile, my pulse quickens, and there are butterflies in my stomach when we kiss passionately.
+++
“I’m glad you said no,” I whisper into Emilia’s ear.
It’s still dark in Emilia’s apartment in the early morning hours of New Year’s Day. We are cuddling in her foldout bed, sweating and still panting from making love, almost ready to fall asleep.
“To Bette?” Emilia asks.
“Yes, to Bette’s invitation.”
“Well, I guess you know as well as I do what she wanted of us.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, she wanted to fuck us. She wanted to have a threesome, or foursome, or some kind of orgy!” She shakes her head in disbelief, and turns to gaze deeply into my eyes. “I don’t want that, Jen. You’re all I want.”
My eyes fill with tears. “Oh God, Emilia! You’re incredible! I love you so much!”
I kiss her tenderly, and turn around on my side of the bed. But sleep still escapes me, as I replay the events of the evening on my inner screen. It had been very late or rather early until we got home. We watched the second ‘Coldhearts’ show, before we played our second gig, because after midnight the bands played in reverse starting order. This meant that Bette and her ‘heavy metal bitches’ got to go home long before us. Anyway, I was surprised they even said goodbye to us before our second show began.
Bette had her arm around the waist of a very young-looking girl with purple hair. With a lopsided smile she kissed my cheek. Putting her lips close to my ear, she murmured, “too bad you and Emilia didn’t want to come, Jen. It would have been lots of fun. Maybe some other time?”
I couldn’t say anything. I could only shiver.
Then ‘The Coldhearts’ started to leave, with the purple-haired girl leaving with them, carrying Bette’s guitar case. Ina and Caro walked hand-in-hand, each of them carrying their guitar or bass in their free hand. Eventually, pretty Nellie walked up to me, air kissing me to say goodbye. It made me shiver again.
“It was great meeting you, Jenny! I’d love to see you again soon,” she said. She was the only ‘Coldheart’ who seemed to have left the venue alone in spite of the groupies I had seen around her at midnight.
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