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Fall Of The Rock Girl: A Lesbian Romance (Revolving Record Book 2)

Page 17

by Nicolette Dane


  Bringing the cigarette to my lips, I took a long drag from it and then exhaled a cloud of smoke into the evening.

  “Fuck,” I said through a smoky sigh. I took another puff and looked around. I could hear voices in the distance, revelers out to party for New Year’s, though downtown Detroit always had a quiet to it at night. Even back in 1999. It was a portent for things to come, surely, the eerie solitude you felt that you shouldn’t really feel when in the heart of a major American city.

  The city was loving me and Cast Party. Something was happening to us. We were getting write ups in the MetroShout, the local alt weekly, our shows were pulling way more people than we were used to. The New Year’s Eve show there at the Mystic, the tickets sold out in about a half an hour. Yeah, it might be because of the holiday. But the show was undeniably hyped up by the Detroit music scene hipsters and I liked to think it sold out so quickly because we were headlining.

  As my cigarette burned down to the butt, I considered lighting up another one when the large steel door next to me slowly opened up. I looked over and saw Renee stick her head out. Renee was a dichotomy wrapped in an enigma. She was a short, cute black girl with a teased out ‘fro, unsuspecting and adorable. But she was an absolute monster on the drums. She was the backbeat of Cast Party.

  “Dude, it’s fucking cold out here,” said Renee, looking at me from around the door. “You know you can smoke inside.”

  “I don’t want to smoke inside,” I said. “I’m trying to get ready.”

  “Should I leave you alone?”

  “No,” I said. “Come have a cigarette with me.”

  “You’re shitting me,” said Renee. “You want me to stand outside in that cold?”

  “You have a coat on,” I said, reaching over and trying to grab the lapel of Renee’s coat, though I was too far away and blocked by the door. “Come out here and talk to me.”

  “Layla, you’re a crazy bitch,” she said endearingly. Renee stepped outside and let the door close behind her. “We better not get locked out.”

  “It’s not locked,” I said. I dropped my butt to the cement and stepped on it with my heel. Then, reaching into my parka pocket, I pulled out a pack of Chamberlains, retrieved two, and stuck them both in my mouth. I brought my lighter up and flicked it, igniting the ends of both cigarettes, and then handed one to Renee.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “That place is packed,” I said, putting my lighter and the cigarette pack away. “It’s definitely over capacity.”

  “It’s fucking exciting, that’s what it is,” said Renee. “This show is huge for us.”

  “Huge,” I repeated wistfully.

  “You’re going to kill it,” said Renee. “Get outta your head.”

  “I wish it worked like that,” I said. “It’s always the same, though. I always feel like this before I go onstage.”

  “People love you in this city,” she said, taking a drag from her cigarette. “You’re becoming the new ‘it’ girl or some shit.”

  “The pressure makes me wanna puke,” I admitted. “Ugh.” I shook my head and tried to get a grip.

  “You know how it’s gonna go,” said Renee, building me up. “You’re going to step out on stage and everyone is going to scream and you’re going to feel how awesome that is in your heart.” She smiled warmly at me.

  “I know.”

  “And all this shit you feel,” she continued on. “It’s going to disappear.”

  “That’s how it works,” I said. “I feel it all get crazy in the time before I get on stage, and then once I’m there, it just melts and I rock the fuck out of those people.”

  “You absolutely rock the fuck out of those people,” Renee affirmed. “Layla, I’m cold,” she whined, giving me a bit of a pleading look.

  “Let’s just finish these, okay?” I said, holding up my half-smoked cigarette.

  “Fine.”

  “Do you ever feel scared of success?” I asked, looking over toward Renee out of the corner of my eye, feeling nervous saying something like that. “Like, we’re on the cusp of something big and it could all just tip over before we know it and then… we’re just… something?”

  “You’re talking, like, fame?” said Renee, slowly nodding.

  “Yeah.”

  “Fuck no, I’m not scared of it,” she said. “I need this. This is my ticket out.”

  “Right,” I said. I knew Renee well.

  “I didn’t go to college like you,” she continued on. “I’m a fucking waitress. I want to be a star.”

  “I mean, I went to art school,” I said. “It’s not like I have a business degree to fall back on or something.”

  “But it’s something,” said Renee. “Look, you just need to chill the fuck out and do what you do best. Sing your words.” She offered me a tender, knowing smile.

  “Are you worried about this Y2K thing?” I asked, not knowing why I might change the subject but unable to stop myself from releasing the words.

  “What?” said Renee, giving me a strange look. “Do you know how expensive computers are? I don’t have one of those.”

  “What about the banks?” I said. “Like, are ATMs going to stop working?”

  “I don’t have any money,” she said. “No, I’m really only worried about making sure I don’t fuck up a drum fill.”

  “Okay,” I said, feeling reassured for some reason that was beyond me. I smiled softly at Renee. She was a great friend.

  “I’m done,” she said, tossing her cigarette to the ground and stepping it out. “Are you coming back inside?” Renee grabbed for the door and pulled it open halfway.

  “Sure,” I said. I, too, dropped my cigarette and stepped on it. With another exhale of smoke and breath, Renee and I returned inside to the Mystic.

  We were immediately hit with the sweaty humidity of a packed club, along with the shredding of rock guitar coming from the band who was currently up on stage, and the smell of cigarette smoke that permeated the room. Making our way down the back hall, passing the green room — which, at the Mystic, was an absolutely gross pile of shit — I stopped when I realized I still had my coat on. I quickly took the parka off and Renee, seeing me do this, followed my lead and removed her coat as well. I took both of the jackets, opened the green room door, and chucked them inside along the wall. Now we were ready to get back to it all.

  As Renee and I stepped out into the main room of the Mystic, overloud music pounding against our ear drums, I could feel the eyes on us as we passed. It felt really good. If you asked me in an interview what I thought of being looked at or talked about so much, I’d probably try to play it cool and say that it didn’t affect me. But I really loved the attention. It made me feel special. It made me feel big.

  And I was totally done up for the show. Black combat boots, black tights, black skirt, a red plaid button down shirt with a black cardigan over it. My hair was dyed black as well, with severe bangs cut across my forehead. I had always wanted to be Winona Ryder in Beetlejuice, or some kind of goth-punk princess. I even had my labret pierced way before it was cool or even a known thing. Back then, walking around with that little steel ball under my lip, people had no idea where I’d come from.

  Renee was a lot more rocker chick than I was. Her style was ripped jeans, red Chuck Taylors, a tight faded black Bob Marley shirt that featured her impressive rack. And that awesome ‘fro. She was a cool girl and although we were sort of opposites in style, in the band it worked out perfectly.

  Although people, mostly the guys, stared at Renee and I as we approached the bar, nobody would try to talk to us. It was a strange feeling. Just a few months prior, Cast Party was playing shows and doing our thing, but we hadn’t experienced the hype machine yet. We were unknowns. As soon as things started happening for us, however, and we were getting known around town, our experience when we were out in the scene became totally flipped. Sure, the errant guy with a little too much booze in him would try to flirt with me — which I would just laug
h off because, well, I like pussy — but most of the time we were just sort of put on a pedestal. It was good and bad.

  “Two beers, please,” said Renee to the bartender in a loud yet muffled voice, holding up two fingers. You could hear people talking emphatically around the bar, trying to send their voices over the music. My eyes darted back and forth along the bar, searching for someone that I recognized. Before I knew it, Renee was handing me a beer and together we turned to face the stage.

  “I don’t have my beer tickets,” I said, suddenly feeling my skirt with my free hand. I didn’t have any pockets.

  “The bartender didn’t charge us,” she said.

  “Cool.”

  “These guys fucking rock,” said Renee, motioning to the stage with her bottle before bringing it to her lips to take a pull from it.

  “They could be tighter,” I said.

  “True,” she said. “But I like it kinda loosey-goosey sometimes.”

  “Are we next?” I asked.

  “We’re next.”

  “Like, what? Fifteen?”

  “Probably.”

  Just then, as though he came out of nowhere, the wiry and tall body of James leapt in front of us. Bent at the knees, arms raised, fingers bent, he roared at us like a lion, though his mane of hair was long and dark and stringy and greasy. At first both Renee and I were startled, but then the three of us laughed together as James straightened himself up and closed in on us so that we could talk over the music.

  “Couple of babes,” said James, having to lean down slightly to talk to us. “Where’s my beer?”

  “You can have mine,” I said. “I’m feeling queasy.” I offered my bottle to him.

  “I don’t want to catch lesbo,” said James with a dumb smirk on his face. But he took the bottle anyway.

  “Do you know how stupid that sounds?” I said. “Of course you want to catch lesbo. Unless you’re interested in dick.”

  “Touché,” said James, throwing his head back as he took a long gulp of beer. He gave a refreshing sigh as his drink ended. “Truthfully, I’ll take what I can get.”

  “Shit, James,” said Renee. “You know these groupie bitches always toss themselves at you after we play.”

  “Do you take me for some kind of slut?” said James. “I’m looking for a girl like my momma.”

  “I’ve met your momma,” said Renee. “And I’m sure she could be any one of these girls!” Renee and I laughed together.

  “Now I know you’re not talking about Barbara like that,” said James. He was laughing now. We always had a great time. Our ties were strong.

  “Barb’s a tough old cuss,” I said. “You’re not going to find her here. She’s working third shift at the mill.”

  “She’s a school teacher, Layla,” said James with a smirk, folding his arms.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I had her for English. I stand by my remark that she’s a tough old cuss.”

  “Ah!” said Renee with a dreamy sigh, leaning toward me and grabbing at my upper arm, hanging on. “The idyllic life in the suburbs.”

  “I forgot,” said James, scratching at his chin to make a production out of it. “Did you actually have high school in Detroit? Or is it one of those things where you make it through middle school, you’re done, you get a job at the coney island… that’s it, right?”

  “Hey!” said Renee. “I’ve only worked at the coney island as long as I have because my family owns it. You better not try to pull any of that shit with me. The Fortes are entrepreneurs.”

  “Ren-ay For-tay!” exclaimed James, exaggerating the vowels, bending down a little, wiggling his backside.

  “It’s a nice name,” said Renee. “Don’t you make fun.”

  “You started it,” he said. “Making fun of Barbara.”

  “All right, children,” I said, playing peacemaker. “Let’s dial it down a notch.” I spoke through a stifled laugh, genuinely feeling happy. My stomach was beginning to feel better. Something with the dynamic of these people, it relaxed me.

  “Where’s Paul?” Renee asked.

  “I do believe Paul is chtuning up his bass,” said James in a poor rendition of a Liverpool accent.

  “What?” said Renee. “He’s what?”

  “Chtuning his bass,” said James again.

  “Chooning?” said Renee, scrunching her face.

  “Okay, tuning,” said James in his normal voice once more. “Tuning his bass.”

  “What was that you were doing?” she asked skeptically.

  “A Beatles thing,” I interrupted. “Because, you know… Paul… bass.”

  “Oh,” said Renee. “Don’t quit your day job, James.”

  “Jokes on you,” he said. “I don’t have a day job.”

  The three of us laughed together.

  I wasn’t sick any longer. I was feeling ready. I had a wide smile on my face. I was ready to rock.

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  Restless On A Road Trip

  A Lesbian Romance

  Having just finalized the divorce from her husband, Dana Darling feels uncertain and lost in life. As a woman in her mid-30s, where does she go from here? How does she move on? Dana knows the divorce was the right thing to do and these feelings inside can no longer be ignored. She’s certain real love is out there for her… but how can she find it?

  When her good friend Maggie invites her on a road trip out west, Dana’s eyes begin to open. Maggie is a firecracker, a sweet, pretty, and sensual woman who Dana has always admired. And while Maggie has always been open about her own love of women, Dana has never been able to come out to her friend and admit her true feelings. Dana is about to find out, however, that when you’re on the open road with a fun and flirty woman like Maggie, things have a way of coming out like they never have before.

  Will the freedom Dana feels on this road trip vacation allow her to finally open up and be free herself? Can this liberation from the responsibilities of life set Dana on the path she was meant to travel all along? Or will the coming out Dana has always deserved continue to be under construction? Some road blocks in life are difficult to navigate. But for Dana the call of the open road is too deafening to dismiss.

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  Full Bodied In The Vineyard

  A Lesbian Romance

  After yet another breakup and on the cusp of her 40th birthday, Shannon Laughlin is feeling lost. Life hasn’t gone quite how she expected and she’s ready for something new, a new outlook, a new adventure. A new love. One night, as she tries to figure out what’s next, a chance post on social media by an old friend offers to give her that change she’s been seeking.

  That old friend is Alina. Alina is a seasonal worker at Wild Love Winery up on Leelanau Peninsula in Michigan’s wine appellation. A free-spirited woman, Alina has orchestrated a life for herself that revolves around following her bliss. It’s something Shan has always admired in her friend. That, and Alina’s undeniable sensuality. Shan can’t help but remember the one night in college that the two women shared a bed. And the possibility Alina is offering is just too good to pass up.

  Will Shan figure out how to get both her work life and her love life back on track as she stumbles into her 40s? Can the magic of Michigan’s wine country and the surrounding beauty convince Shan that there’s more to this world than she’s been able to see? Or will this second chance at making it work with Alina prove to be out of her reach? Sometimes life is only just beginning at 40, as Shan is about to find out. And there’s so much more of it to live.

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  Hotel Hollywood

  A Lesbian Romance

  Audra Durand is stuck. She has slowly come to the realization that life in her small town on the west coast of Michigan isn’t quite what she imagined for herself. And as she sits unfulfilled behind the reception desk of the Hotel Champlain, an old hotel on her town’s
main street, she dreams of the places she could go… if only she could muster up the courage and overcome her fears. Life and love have been a struggle for Audra, and she has difficulty imagining a way out.

  But her world is about to change when Hollywood comes to town. Thanks to some easy tax credits a big budget movie production sets up in Champlain, making Audra’s hotel their homebase. And with the movie comes young starlet Kelsie Kent, a beautiful, free-spirited, fun-loving girl who inspires Audra in every way. Kelsie represents the things Audra can’t see in herself, but as the girls grow closer and love begins to bloom, Audra’s fear and trepidation melt in Kelsie’s light.

  Can Audra overcome the demons of both her past and present, open her heart, and give herself over to the freedom that Kelsie arouses? Or will she succumb to her fear of change, do nothing, and remain in her stagnant existence? Sometimes unexpected kismet can deliver what you need most at exactly the right time. You just need to open your eyes to see it.

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