Jennifer's Triad

by Laura Anne Turner

  +++

  “Have you made any plans for your future, Jenny?” Dad asks during dinner that evening. I knew the question would come up, and I decide to be honest. He’s my Dad.

  “Well, I have been thinking about it, Dad,” I answer tentatively. “You know that my most important goal this year was to graduate from high school. And after I achieved that goal, I guess I feel into a pit. I’m not really sure what to do.”

  Dad takes a sip from his red wine, before looking back at me.

  “I know it’s hard to make decisions like that, Jenny. You should do something you really love. Nothing’s worse than being stuck in a job you don’t like.”

  I nod my head while chewing on a French fry.

  “I’d like to do something with music. I love music so much. Unfortunately, I don’t have the formal education needed to pass the examination for a Music University. I can’t play piano or keyboards.”

  “I’m sorry we couldn’t give you that kind of education, Jenny.”

  “I know. It’s not your fault, Dad. There were times when I didn’t even know I’d make it to High School, not to talk about a musical education.” I’m fighting back the well-known wave of sadness that starts to roll over me. “I learnt how to play guitar from Martin, and I’ve played in his band for three years now. The band means a lot to me. We’re playing two gigs on New Year’s Eve, and I know it’s going to be great.”

  Dad puts down his fork to pat my hand. “It’s okay, Sweetheart, I know how it is. I used to play in a band when I was younger.” He pauses for a moment, obviously lost in memories. “I was like you, Jennifer. We always hoped for a breakthrough with the band, but we never made it beyond being locally famous.” He picks up his fork and starts eating again.

  “I guess you don’t even need a formal musical education to become a rock star,” Sabrina adds. “Nobody expects you to give up playing in a band. However, it’s always good to have a backup plan, if things with your band don’t work out.”

  “What do you mean by having a backup plan, Sabrina?” I ask her.

  “Oh, what I mean is, you can go to the university or start an apprenticeship, and still play in your band. Your friend Martin for example, what does he do for a living?”

  “Martin has finished an apprenticeship as a car mechatronics engineer, and works for a big service station.”

  “So you see, Martin has a day job, but he still plays in the band,” Sabrina points out.

  “That’s correct.”

  “What Sabrina means is that you shouldn’t just focus on music, Jenny,” Dad says. “Is there anything else you find interesting?”

  I tell them about the ‘Britzinger incident’, and how he thinks I should study history.

  “Is history something you’re really interested in?” Dad asks.

  “I’ve always liked history as a subject at high school.”

  “I don’t know about career opportunities for historians, unless you wanted to become a teacher,” Sabrina adds.

  “I checked a couple of websites. They say there are opportunities for historians in libraries, in museums, the media, and agencies,” I say.

  “Doesn’t sound too bad, then,” Dad states. “Maybe you should talk to your ex-teacher again. And perhaps you could sneak into a couple of lectures at the university to get an idea of what it’s like to study history.”

  “I will think about it,” I promise.

  +++

  The concert venue isn’t very crowded yet when we arrive. It’s still easy to find a place not too far away from the stage.

  “I’ll get us something to drink before the concert starts,” I say to Dad and Sabrina. “Are you okay with beer?”

  “Beer is okay,” they answer in unison.

  I make my way to the long bar counter extending on the left hand side of the music hall. Since we’re early, there are no major lines of people waiting, and the bartenders are not yet stressed out. I order three beers, which come in plastic cups. No bottles allowed. I pay for the beers, and just as I’m about to pick up the cups from the counter, somebody is entering my personal space. The girl stands very close to me. I look up into ocean blue eyes. Her hair is blonde, done in a chin-length bob. Around her neck is an orange scarf. Could it really be?

  “Oh my God, Jenny Meier? Is it really you,” the girl says.

  “Paulina Janssen, you?” I’m totally in shock!

  “Jenny, it’s really you! Oh my fucking God,” Paulina squeals. The next moment I feel her arms around me, and she kisses my cheeks. I’m totally shocked, since we’ve never really been close friends, but I love it. And I can’t help noticing her intoxicating fragrance, and her soft skin and lips.

  Keeping me at an arm’s length, her hands on my shoulders, she shakes her head. “I can’t believe it, Jenny. It’s really you. It’s so good to see you. But what are you doing in Munich?”

  “I’m seeing my Dad over the holidays. He’s over there,” I say pointing in the direction where Dad and Sabrina are standing. “And I got the concert ticket as a Christmas present from him.”

  “That’s totally awesome,” Paulina squeals. “You’ve gotta see Lena. C’mon.”

  I grab the three beer cups, and Paulina takes the two beers she bought. I follow her in the direction of the stage. Walking behind Paulina I can’t keep from staring at her tight butt. She’s wearing blue jeans, and a dark-blue long-sleeve shirt. I have to admit she’s pretty hot. And I’m surprised that the thought of seeing Lena makes my pulse race.

  And right there she is, Lena Davids, my former girl crush, the girl who made my heart beat faster, and who made me think of things I’d never imagined wanting to do with a girl. She’s beautiful as ever. She’s even more beautiful than ever. No, she’s absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. As we come closer she looks at Paulina first, but then her eyes fall on me. I can feel my knees get weak. How can this be happening to me? I was sure over that crazy infatuation with her! I was in love with Sherinia, and now I’m with Emilia and I love her!

  Slowly it seems to dawn on Lena who I am, and the corners of her pretty mouth shoot up to her dazzling smile. And I can’t do anything against beaming back at her like a fool. It takes only a short moment to take her in. Her dark-brown hair is pulled back in a ponytail. She’s wearing black jeans, and a black ‘Evanescence’ sweatshirt. Around her neck is the inevitable orange scarf. They obviously still have that thing with their orange scarves. And then I’m standing right in front of her, blushing like crazy, unable to speak. Lena doesn’t seem to notice.

  “Jenny, you’re here? That’s amazing,” she says, wrapping her arms around me, and air-kissing my cheeks. Too bad I can’t wrap my arms around her. I’m still holding three stupid plastic cups of beer in my hands.

  “Oh my God, Lena, it’s really you!” I finally manage to blurt out.

  “What are you doing here? I mean, here in Munich?” Lena asks, still smiling at me. Paulina is standing right next to us, an amused smirk on her pretty face.

  “I’m visiting my Dad, he’s over there with his new wife,” I repeat, tilting my head in the direction where Dad and Sabrina are standing. “I was just getting us something to drink when I ran into Paulina.”

  “How long are you staying?”

  “I’m going home tomorrow around noon,” I say.

  “Ooooh, too bad. You should’ve come to see us,” Lena continues. “Maybe next time you come to Munich? I’d love that.” She begins searching for something in her purse, and finally produces a pen and a crumbled slip of paper. She writes something, and then she looks at me again, smiling. “It’s my and Paulina’s phone numbers. I’ll put this in your back pocket, Jenny.”

  She folds the note, and actually puts it into my left jeans pocket. I nearly faint when I feel her soft fingers so close to my girl parts.

  “How are things at home, Jenny? Do you still have that girlfriend you mentioned the last time we met at the graduation party?”

  “No, I have another girlfriend now, her name
is Emilia. She’s the singer of our band.”

  “Ooooh,” Paulina and Lena say in unison. “That’s great. You still play bass?” Paulina asks.

  “Yeah, we are playing a gig on New Year’s Eve.”

  “Oh that’s great,” Lena adds smiling.

  “Aren’t you seeing your parents over Christmas?” I ask.

  “My Mom and Dad are going to pick us up when they get back from their trip to Austria. We’ll all be together on New Year’s Eve,” Paulina says.

  “Oh I see. Will you be able to come to our gig? It would be awesome.”

  “I don’t think so, Jenny, I’m sorry,” Lena says. “We’re celebrating at Paulina’s place.”

  “Too bad. Well then, I think I should go back to my Dad, before our beers get too warm,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “It was awesome seeing you guys. And next time I come to Munich I’ll definitely come to see you.”

  “Please do, Jenny,” Lena replies.

  “You’re really welcome, don’t be shy,” Paulina adds. “We don’t see people from our home town very often.”

  “Okay then, see you around.”

  They both give me a hug before I head back to my Dad and Sabrina, trying to keep my hands from shaking the whole time. I hand them their beers.

  “Cheers,” I say, taking a gulp from my plastic cup.

  “Cheers. Who was that? I didn’t know you had friends in Munich,” Dad asks.

  “They’re ghosts from my past…I mean, they’re Lena and Paulina. We went to high school together, and they both study in Munich. I didn’t expect to see them here. They’re a couple.”

  “Ah, okay. Maybe you should go and see them. They seem to be nice.”

  “Yes, they are.” No need to tell my Dad about my crush on Lena Davids. “They asked me to pay them a visit next time I’m in Munich.”

  Before Dad can say anything, the lights go out, and the support band begins their set. They aren’t bad, some retro blues-rock band, but nothing especially noteworthy. My gaze drifts to Lena and Paulina from time to time. They are standing not far away from us, only a bit closer to the stage. Paulina has her arm around Lena’s shoulder, and I regret the fact Emilia’s not here. I can’t depend on just one person to make me happy. I don’t know where that thought came from, but suddenly it’s there. What does it mean? I came to Munich to see Dad and Sabrina, because I hadn’t seen them for so long. But I also came here to Munich, because I thought it would help me fight my loneliness. And all this is just because Emilia decided to see her Mom and Dad for Christmas. This can’t keep happening. I can’t let not having one person with me make me so utterly miserable.

  The lights go on again as the support band finishes their set. While Dad goes to get us another round of beers, Sabrina addresses me.

  “You seem to be completely lost in your thoughts, Jenny. Want to tell me what’s bothering you? I’d really like to help if I can, you know. There may be things you don’t want to talk about with your father, but maybe with another woman...?”

  “That’s really good of you, Sabrina, but I think right now I have to work things out in my own head.” Seeing her face fell, I quickly add, “but if I decide talking to you could help, I will talk to you. I swear.”

  “I understand, Jenny,” Sabrina says smiling again. “But please don’t hesitate to call me, if there’s anything I can do.”

  “Thanks.” I smile back at her gratefully. It’s good to know my Dad’s new partner cares. Even more than my own mother.

  Dad returns with our beers just in time before the lights go out again, and the ‘Black Halo’ intro sounds from the speakers. The crowd cheers as the band hits the stage, and when Jenna starts singing, I lose myself and all my sorrows in the sound of their music.

  +++

  CHAPTER 3 – THE COLDHEARTS

  We’ve got two sets to play on our New Year’s Eve gig, the first one at nine, and the second one at two in the morning of New Year’s Day. I don’t know how Marlon managed to get us into the line-up for that remarkable night, but he did. The venue is the same place where I spent the previous New Year’s Eve with Martin, Robin and Andrea. It was that night when I bumped into Max Stauder, and ended up in my best friend’s bed. In the end I was grateful that Martin didn’t take advantage of my being totally drunk.

  Emilia is sitting next to me on the floor behind the stage, our backs against the wall. We are holding hands, while Martin discusses something with Robin and Marlon. We are waiting for our gig to start in a couple of minutes. The place is packed, and already now the air inside the hall is hot and stale.

  We’re the third out of five bands playing tonight. The headliner is an all-girl metal band called ‘The Coldhearts’. They’re really famous locally. From what I’ve heard and read, they’re not just famous because they’re a good band, but also because they’re known as a lesbian band. I don’t know if they’re real lesbians, or if they’re faking it for the sake of the notoriety.

  The four girls of the band arrived just a couple of minutes ago, and I’ve got to admit they’re pretty hot. I’m actually having trouble keeping myself from staring at them. I’ve already checked them out online, so I know their names. There’s Bette, the blonde singer and guitarist. She’s wearing skimpy black leather hot pants, black stockings, knee-high boots, and a blood-red tank top. Her long blonde hair is done in a French braid that hangs over her shoulder. As she kneels to lean her guitar case against the wall, her eyes wander over the backstage area. And then she sees Emilia and me! A little smile starts to play around her red lips, and she stands and walks up to us with her hips swaying. Squatting down in front of us, she offers us her hand.

  “Hi,” she says, “I’m Bette Coldheart. And you are…?”

  My throat is too dry to answer without clearing it, and I watch how Emilia grins and grabs Bette’s hand. “Oh hi, Bette, I’m Emilia, and this is Jenny. Good to meet you.”

  “Good to meet you, Emilia. And you, Jenny,” Bette says, taking my hand. “You two really look so cute as a couple. You are together, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, we’re together, Jenny and me.”

  Once again Emilia is quicker to reply, while I’m just trying not to stare at Bette with my mouth hanging. Sherinia! She totally reminds me of Sherinia. She might not look like Sherinia, but she holds herself like Sherinia, and she looks at me like Sherinia did, she totally exudes sensuality like Sherinia did. Oh, be careful, Jenny! Don’t lose your mind!

  “That’s awesome. You really look hot, you with your red hair, and you with your jet-black hair.” Bette smiles seductively, touching my hair, and reaching out for a strand of Emilia’s wavy hair.

  Then she gets up, shaking her head. “So pretty girls. I must watch your performance. I will tell my band bitches to do the same. See you later.”

  Blowing a kiss to us over the palm of her hand, before she turns around and sashays over to her ‘band bitches’. She says something to the other girls, and their heads turn in our direction. I have always hated when other people were obviously talking about me and I don’t know what they were saying. I have no time to think about it, or Bette, since it’s our turn to play. I put a tender kiss on Emilia’s lips, take a sip from my water bottle, grab my bass guitar, and walk onto stage.

  We open our set as usual, with just my bass guitar and Marlon’s synthesizer playing a heavy intro. I watch Marlon count to three, and we begin to play. The sound is dark, heavy, and loud, the floor underneath my feet vibrating. I bang my head to the heavy rhythm, fully focused on my play, and the crowd begins to cheer. From the corner of my eye I see Robin taking his seat behind his drum kit, and then he joins our intro. Martin adds to the heavy rhythm with his guitar, before he plays a short guitar solo. Now it would be Emilia’s turn to hit the stage. But where the hell is she? Looking to my right I nearly stop playing when I see Bette slap Emilia’s butt with a smirk on her face! Emilia’s giggles are drowned by the sound of our music. She’s still smiling as she prances to the microphone stand, a
nd curtsies to the audience. The crowd cheers and whistles. Emilia looks at me and grins, and then she starts singing.

  I focus on playing, trying to avoid looking to my right hand side where ‘The Coldhearts’ are standing, watching our performance. I feel them staring at me, and I glance over to them. They wave and blow kisses to me. Crazy bitches! But they make me smile, and I decide to give them a show. Turning in their direction, I walk up to them, moving my hips, and grinning at them lasciviously. They shriek with laughter, and start dancing and shaking their own hips, blowing me more kisses. The audience can’t see them, just me, but when our song ends, the audience explodes with cheers, applause and whistles. There seem to be a lot of girls who like girls in the crowd. I can see them down there on the right hand side. So many girls, and they’re young and hot! I don’t know who started it, most likely Bette over there, but the girls begin to scream my name. “Jenny, Jenny, Jenny!”

  It’s so strange having the whole audience’s attention on me! Usually, it’d make me want to hide behind Robin’s drum kit, but today I feel happily lightheaded, high on adrenaline.

  “Thanks for the special applause for our Jenny here,” Emilia says, laughing, and I make a courtly bow to the audience, before Emilia announces our next song.

  Martin, Marlon, and Robin seem to be bewildered by the turn of events that night, but it’s fun, and our whole first gig that night is a huge success. The slot allotted to us originally was 30 minutes only, but the crowd cheers for an encore, and so we play for another 10 minutes.

  I’m covered in sweat as we leave the stage. ‘The Coldhearts’ are waiting for us, giving High Five to all band members.

  “Amazing performance, Jenny,” Bette says, handing me a plastic cup of beer.

  “Thank you, Bette.”

  Emilia and I keep on talking to Bette and her ‘bitches’, while the next band is on stage. It’s quite obvious they’re flirting with us. They are all cute and sexy. Next to Bette there is Ina, the blonde lead-guitarist, a lively extrovert, wearing black jeans with trendy rips. There is Caro, the auburn bassist, cool and relaxed. Despite Bette’s openly flirtatious behavior, I can’t keep my eyes from Nellie, the pretty drummer. Her dark hair is done in that cute Alice Cullen style. I have always liked Alice Cullen a lot, and now ‘Nellie Coldheart’ is standing close to me as a kind of lookalike. She’s wearing very tight fitting black volleyball shorts, and a black tank top. Nellie seems to be more reticent and introverted than the other Coldhearts, and I like her best for it.