“I’m sorry,” I said, holding the phone to my ear with one hand, while my other wagged the crystal in front of my face indolently. “It was a nutty week.”
“I’m just glad you responded to my texts,” she said. “Otherwise, I’d probably think you died.”
“Well, I guess I could have,” I admitted.
“What?”
“About a week ago,” I started. “James and I were robbed outside of our practice space in Detroit. We’re fine. It was just… shitty.”
“Oh my God, Layla,” said Daisy with real concern in her voice. “You should have told me. Oh shit. Layla, that’s just awful.”
“I know,” I said. “We’re fine, though. The guy was drunk and out of it. He had a knife, but James knocked him over. It was just a… sad experience, that’s all.”
“And scary, too, I imagine.”
“Scary, too,” I said. “But I felt really bad for the guy. I gave him money anyway.”
“I’m just so glad you’re safe,” she said. I could tell she was breathing heavily on the other end of the phone. “Phew! I’m feeling all riled up right now. I feel crazy.”
“I’m sorry I kept it from you,” I said. “ I just had a lot on my mind.”
“How did the band take your news?” Daisy asked.
“Just okay,” I said.
“Just okay?”
“Yeah,” I said. “They were upset, but understanding. I don’t think they’re too happy about it, but they’ve accepted it.”
“I guess that’s the best we could hope for,” she said.
“And I think, since being back home,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I think I have some other news.”
“What’s that?”
“I think…” I started, as I looked deeply into the pink rocky totem, wavy with smoky colors accenting the pinkness. I brought it to my nose and smelled it. “I think I want to move to New York. Like, get a place there.”
“Really?” said Daisy. I could hear the excitement in her voice. “For real?”
“For real,” I said. “This robbery, mixed with my feelings for home, for Detroit, it’s just making clear to me something that’s been kind of foggy for a long time.”
“And what’s been foggy?” asked Daisy.
“I don’t feel like I belong here.”
“I understand,” she said.
“Some people are going to hate me,” I said. “I can guarantee that. They’re going to think that I’m abandoning the city, that I got mine and now I’m out. And, well, I guess that’s part of it. But I’m not as in love with this place as a lot of people are. I don’t think it’s fun or romantic to worry about getting robbed in empty parking lots.”
“I think that’s realistic of you,” said Daisy.
“I know I can make it work with the band,” I continued. “I can come back for marathon practice sessions. And we’ll be recording the next album in New York anyway, right?”
“Right.”
“I just need a big change or something,” I said. “I can’t carry on like this. I’m feeling like an outcast again. You know? I was an outcast for so long, then I was a hot commodity here because we were up and coming, and now that we’ve arrived I’m feeling like an outcast again. It’s hard to go anywhere without getting recognized. Everybody just wants something. I need a break.”
“And you’re entitled to that,” said Daisy. “I’m probably biased, of course, but I would love it if you moved out here. I could see you all the time. That’s selfish, I know.”
“No,” I said. “You’re also a big part of why I want to move. I feel like… well, I don’t feel like I’m an outcast around you.”
“That makes me so happy to hear,” said Daisy, smiling at me through the phone.
“I haven’t told anybody but my parents yet,” I said. “I mean, I just made the decision. It was hard.”
“I think it’s the right one.”
“Me too.”
“Well, buck up,” said Daisy with a revitalized happiness in her voice. “You sound down, but you just made a pretty awesome decision. You’re moving to New York City!”
“I know!” I said, her attitude infectious. I laughed happily.
“And hell,” said Daisy. “Maybe Cast Party will just follow your lead. You never know!”
“Never know,” I said.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” she said. “Unscathed. Unharmed. And I can’t wait until we’re reunited. It’s only been a couple weeks, but I miss you dearly.”
“I miss you, too,” I said, looking again at the crystal piece. “I’ve gotten a lot of use out of your present to me.”
“Oh yeah?” Daisy beamed. I could hear the sensual excitement in her voice. “I sort of regret giving it to you. I’ve missed it almost as much as I’ve missed you!” She laughed.
“It’s mine now,” I said. “In fact, I’m going to use it after I get off of the phone with you tonight.” After I said this, I lowered the crystal, guiding it between my legs, and pressed it against myself. I could feel its weight and its subtle coldness through the thin fabric of my underwear.
“Pretend it’s me doing it to you,” said Daisy.
“I always do,” I said.
“Listen,” she said in a quieter tone. “I love you, Layla. And I’m just so happy how this is working between us. It means a lot to me. This thing we’ve got, it really makes me feel like a good person again.”
“I love you, too,” I mewed into the phone. “I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
“Keep me posted on your move plans, okay?”
“Okay,” I said. “I will.”
“I’ll leave you to that crystal,” she said. “I’m grinning just thinking about it. I can’t wipe the smile off my face.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” I said.
“I’ll look forward to it.”
“Goodnight, Daisy.”
“Night, Layla.”
I closed my eyes and hung up the phone. I’d never felt like this before. Never had I been so in love with someone. If you didn’t know me at all and you met me on the street, you might think I was a weirdo with a hard heart. And maybe it was my fault for crafting that image. But Daisy did something crazy to me. She gave me hope. She made me look forward to living, rather than half-wishing things would just end. Daisy made my heart race. I wanted to be with her always.
Looking down at myself, I caught my hand rubbing the toy back and forth against my achy lips through my panties and I could feel a subtle wetness seeping through the fabric. I smiled, and then I took hold of my underwear and began pushing them down my legs. I thought only of Daisy, and how I would be reunited with her soon.
I really loved her.
I stepped into the fluorescent lights of the bright salon on Washington Avenue in downtown Royal Oak. The front of the salon was all windows, looking out to the street. As I walked in, everybody in there looked at me. The receptionist, the stylists, the clientele. They looked at me and they recognized me immediately.
“Oh my God,” said the pretty young receptionist in a murmur as I approached her desk. Her green eyes were wide as she stared up at me.
“Hi,” I said. “I have an appointment with Nikki. It’s under Alana Beam.”
“Yes,” she said, nodding frantically, looking down into the appointment book on her desk. “Yes, Alana Beam. I have it right here. Nikki is on her break, but she should be back shortly. Can I get you anything? A water? Coffee?”
“I’m fine,” I said with a smile. I turned from the desk and began my walk over to the waiting area when I heard a familiar voice speak up.
“Layla,” said Nikki behind me. I turned around and there she was.
“Hi, babe,” I said.
“Hi. What are you doing here?”
“I need my hair dyed,” I said. I looked around and everyone was still watching us. One stylist, a slender gay boy, caught my eye and he quickly looked away.
“I’m booked today,” said N
ikki. “But if you want, you can stop by my apartment this weekend and—“
“I have an appointment,” I said.
“I didn’t see you on the list,” said Nikki, walking over to the reception desk and leaning over it. “Right now I’ve got Alana B—“ She looked up and gave me an impish grin. “You’re crazy.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But then again, maybe not.” I prompted Nikki with my eyes, looking around the salon, showing her that all eyes were on us.
“Maybe not,” she agreed. “Come on back.”
I sat in the chair, looking at myself in the mirror, my pallid face staring back, as Nikki lifted the black nylon smock over and around me, clasping it at my neck. She fluffed up my hair, looking down at my head, and made a thoughtful face. I watched her in the mirror as she considered me. My hair had grown out, my true colors coming through at the roots. I was a dirty blonde. Very few people knew that. But Nikki knew well.
“You’re quite the skunk,” she said, combing her fingers through my hair. “Blonde, black, blue. What do you want to do today?”
“Just a trim,” I said. “And fix my dye job. It’s a wreck. Black and blue.”
“You got it,” she said. “Let’s get you washed up, okay?”
Leaning back into the sink, warm water coming down over my head, Nikki kneaded shampoo through my hair as my eyes looked upward to the ceiling. I had a heavy heart and an overtaxed mind. I tried to enjoy the scalp massage, however, and the trickle of water running down on me.
“Did you have a fun time out in New York?” Nikki asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “I just feel a little more… anonymous there, you know?”
“Is that really becoming a problem?”
“It is,” I said. “You saw how everyone looked at me when I came in. And whenever they move by us, they’re still looking over at me.”
“I noticed,” she said. Nikki pumped some conditioner into her hands, slathered them together, and then worked them through my hair. “They did another big feature of you guys in the Shout,” Nikki went on. “They called you the Saviors of Detroit.”
“That’s absurd,” I said, feeling awful about it. “I didn’t see that yet.”
“It was an interview with James,” she said. “But more than that, just a history write up of the band.”
“I don’t even think I want to look at it.”
Nikki shut off the water and then quickly ran a towel through my hair, drying it off. She then wrapped a dry towel around my neck and stepped back.
“Stand up,” she said. I followed her command.
Back in the chair, my wet hair hanging down heavily on either side, Nikki took the towel from my neck and continued drying me off. I sat with my shoulders slumped, trying to figure out how to find the words I needed.
Then out came her scissors.
“I think I’m going to spend some more time out there,” I said after a few moments of silence. “Out in New York.”
“Yeah?” she said, trimming up my split ends. “Wait, do you want any of the length off?”
“No,” I said. “Just a trim and dye.”
“Okay,” Nikki said, continuing on.
“But I’m thinking of moving out there for a little bit,” I said. “To be closer to the label and the studio and some people out there.”
“That label chick,” she said.
“Yeah, her,” I said.
“And you’re coming here to tell me goodbye?” asked Nikki solemnly.
“Not forever,” I said. “I just… I have to get out of Detroit.”
“I don’t blame you,” she said. “All these kids like to romanticize it. Like it’s some sort of grungy mecca. But most of the time, it just makes me feel depressed.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I know I’m going to get a lot of shit for it. For leaving,” I said in a whisper, as if anybody else could hear me. “They’re going to say I’m a sell out.”
“Well, I guess you are,” said Nikki matter-of-factly. “If you want to be real about it.”
“Yeah.”
“I just…” said Nikki, stopping her work and stepping back from me slightly. “Just don’t forget about me, Layla.” Her voice cracked a bit, like she was pleading with me, like she was holding back some tears. Nikki wasn’t the type to show weakness like that. I knew she cried, but only in private. She liked to put up a strong facade.
“I won’t,” I said. “I promise I won’t.”
Almost as quickly as Nikki showed her exterior cracks, she straightened up and got serious again.
“You’ll be back, though… right?” she asked. “Occasionally?”
“Yeah, often,” I said. “The band is still here, my family… you. I’m just going to try living in New York for a bit and see if it fits me.”
“You guys need to get some new songs out,” Nikki said in teasing seriousness. “I’m really sick of hearing the same songs on the radio, over and over again.” I laughed softly and looked away from the mirror.
“I will,” I said. “I mean, we will. Next year is going to be pretty big for us, I think.”
“You know, I always kinda saw this happening for you,” she admitted. “Like, when we were younger and all that. You just have this certain thoughtfulness about you, something internal, something special.”
“I don’t know about all that.”
“No, really,” said Nikki. “It’s fine. I guess, in a way, I’ve been preparing for losing you for, like, the past decade.”
“Stop,” I said.
“You deserve it, Layla,” she said. “You’ve worked hard and you’ve really focused on your goal. And this is… this is big for you, this is what was meant to happen.”
“I’m not dying,” I said. “I’m not going away forever.”
“I know,” Nikki said softly. Then, after a beat. “I’m, um… I’m done with the trim. Let me go find your color, okay? I’m sure we have some blue around here.”
“Okay,” I said, giving Nikki a smile in the mirror. She turned and walked away.
I sat there alone, my hair still damp and straight, framing my pale face, trying not to think about the occasional wandering eyes that might look in my direction. I breathed slowly and tried to steady my heart. Even though I wasn’t going away forever — that much, I knew — I could feel Nikki’s sadness. And she was right to be sad. Things in my life were changing, and it didn’t appear to me that they could ever go back to how they once were. The door had been opened, I stepped through it, and before I knew it, it had quietly closed behind me.
Most people in my life could only watch me go. Where I was going, they just couldn’t follow.
Even after all their talk about me moving out, my parents told me I could leave my bedroom as-is. But they made it clear I had to straighten it up before I left. It was pretty funny to me that my parents were still telling me to clean my room, even though I was, you know, becoming a famous musician. Some things never change.
The band… was not happy. They hadn’t really been happy with any of my decisions, but I couldn’t exactly tell if it was due to some sort of misplaced envy, or if it was more of a legitimate concern for my well-being. I don’t think they were experiencing fame as I was. Sure, they would get noticed and fawned over within the Detroit music scene. But they were not as recognizable as I was. And, as the face of Cast Party, the one most prominent in advertisements, in media, on the album, I was getting approached almost everywhere I went. It can really wear you down.
While the drama brewing within Cast Party was palpable, it was also something I had expected. You hear about it all the time, big touring rock bands who get testy with one another. When you’ve got such strong personalities, every one of them dealing with an inflated ego, there’s bound to be trouble. I just tried to focus on my art. My lyrics, my music. I wanted Cast Party to succeed, and I knew we would, but I couldn’t let other people decide my life for me. I’d let that happen too frequently in the past.
Returning to New York just a
few weeks after I’d left, it made me feel like I was bouncing all over the country. But it was comfortable, in a way. It made me feel transient, and I liked that. I liked not feeling like I had to stick around anywhere too long. I liked being free. I think a lot of people long for roots, for stability. Me, I just wanted to cast the shackles off and do what felt right for me.
Dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, I scribbled furiously into my notebook as I sat on Daisy’s couch, a mug of coffee steaming on the table in front of me. Morning light streamed in through the sliding glass door, making it’s way into the attached kitchen. With sleep in her eyes, Daisy wandered into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee from the French press. She wore just a tank top and a pair of thong panties, the tank coming halfway down her butt making it appear, from behind at least, that she was wearing nothing at all.
With a mug in her hand, Daisy walked over toward me and smiled as she looked down, her eyes trying to peer into my pages. I swiftly looked up to her and stuck my tongue out, closed my notebook, and sat up straight and proper.
“Can I help you?” I asked teasingly.
“Just trying to steal a glance,” she said, bringing the hot coffee to her lips and sipping. Bending over slightly, Daisy set her mug down on the coffee table and as she did this, I caught a secret glimpse down her top.
“I’m working on some new stuff,” I said. “It’s not ready.”
“For Cast Party, or…?”
“For other,” I said.
“Other,” she repeated with a smile. “I can’t wait to hear it. Are you going to meet with the songwriting team soon?”
“I am,” I said. “I just hope they get me.”
“They’re very good,” said Daisy. “And sweet people.” Turning around and offering me another quick look at her exposed butt, she made to lower herself down to the couch. “Scoot over,” she said.
I did, patting the couch cushion next to me.
“Thank you,” she said.
“I’m going to go out looking for my own place today,” I said.
“That’s great,” she said. “But you know you can stay here as long as you like.”
“I just think it’s a good idea for me to get my own place,” I countered. “Just for a little… breathing room.”
Rise From Rock City: A Lesbian Rock Star Romance (Revolving Record Book 1) Page 16