by Gayle Keo
Tara started to play. Her elegant fingers slid up and down the guitar strings as she strummed, half cupping the guitar to the slender line of her body. The tune was light, but powerful, like a modern version of an old ballad; and melody found herself interested. And then Tara began to sing.
Yuna hadn't fully prepared Melody for the smooth husky tone of Tara's voice. It had the rich earthy soul of a lounge singer, with the harsh edge of an 80's power metal band. It was good. No, she amended mentally, it was fantastic.
“She doesn't know a damn thing about Thai food, and she doesn't know a damn thing about me. But if she gave me the time of day I'd show her just about everything.”
Melody resisted the urge to bury herself in the bathtub a second time. When the song, well it couldn't quite be called that since all it had wa s abasic tune and a stanza, was over Tara was smirking into the camera.
“Hey mystery girl, if you are out there, come by Hard Feathers Sunday night at nine. I don't have your name, but I'll tell the guy at the door to show you the doodle I gave you. He'll let you in.”
*****
It had taken a little encouragement (okay a LOT of encouragement) from Yuna to get Melody to show up at the club. For one, Melody almost never went to clubs. They were loud and most people were looking for temporary pleasures rather than long term connections. Melody didn't have an issue with their choices, she just preferred something a little more substantial. Still, the place was popular.
A line wrapped itself around the block.
“Come on,” Yuna said, tugging on Melody's sleeve. “We don't have to wait in this.”
“But it's a line,” Melody said waving her hand. “We have to wait our turn.”
“You are so naive, it's almost charming.” Yuna shook her head til her braids slapped against her shoulders. Her bare minimum scrap of a dress was so bright that Melody wondered if it ought to come with a radio-active sign somewhere. It seemed to flicker as Yuna wrapped her hand around Melody's wrist and tugged her towards the front.
“They are glaring at us.”
“Of course they are, we look good.”
Melody thought that Yuna looked very nice. Sure the color and style wouldn't have suited Melody, but Yuna made it work. Melody had gone a little more...comfortable. Her pleated skirt was just above the knee, and done in blue plaid. Her top was a simple scoop neck tank, tucked into the waistband. Yuna had called in librarian chic.
The bouncer was a very large and powerfully built woman who Melody assumed lived at a gym. She stuck her hand out and said “Back of the line.”
“No no, I've got Tara's mystery girl,” Yuna said giving a friendly shove to Melody's back.
The bouncer looked Melody over and gave a heavy sigh. “Do you have the picture?”
Melody produced the napkin and pushed it in the woman's direction. The bouncer scrutinized it, turning it one way and then the other.
“Wait here,” The bouncer pulled a phone out of her pocket and made a quick call. The exit door opened and a group of women poured out, shrieking angrily at one another. It suddenly struck Melody that she hadn't seen a single guy...anywhere.
“Yuna, is this a lesbian club?”
“Of course.”
Melody didn't have time to react to that.
“Ms. Paula will be with you in a moment.
Ms. Paula turned out to be the manager for Instant Girl. Melody hadn't realized that independent bands had managers. The woman was tall, leggy, and plain. She and Yuna exchanged pleasantries while Melody stood there feeling like she was swimming in foreign waters.
She stepped aside, and waved them in. The club itself was loud, and dark. A stage just big enough to carry the name took up a corner towards the back of the room. Melody didn't know what to expect, but a walk to the back rooms was not it.
“Oh my god,” Yuna whispered, “we are going to the Green Room.”
Melody only had a passing knowledge of what a green room was. She knew it was where the band got to hang out with people, but that was about all. In this case it was a trio of rooms that the band was using to prepare. One side of the first room looked more like the dressing rooms at a theater. The long mirror with massive amounts of lighting and single person seats. Currently only one of the seats was occupied. The woman sitting there looked to be close to Melody's age, with short locks of hair dyed fire engine red. She was holding two lipsticks up on either side of her face.
“They're both wrong!” she said in frustration, tossing them on a countertop cluttered with cosmetics. “I can't go on stage like this.”
The manager zipped around them. “Sweetie, it's lipstick. Not the end of the world.”
“I'm sorry, I didn't realize that your face was plastered on half the merchandise,” the red head snapped back.
“If you mix them...” Melody offered, pausing when both heads swiveled in their direction. She was suddenly hit with an overwhelming urge to run an hide, or go back in time to keep her mouth shut. Neither one of those things were going to happen, however. “I mean, here.”
She sat down in the chair next to the red-head's. She took up both lipsticks and put a healthy smear on the back of an unused compact. She would have preferred a mixing tray, but there didn't seem to be one. She used the back of a lipstick brush the break up and smear the two colors together, adding more of one color or the other until the red was exactly how she needed it to be. She used the brush to carefully smear the new color on the woman's mouth. “There we go.”
The woman, whose name actually did turn out to be Sweetie, smacked her lips together. “Well look at that. Can you do the rest?”
“Sure!”
It felt really nice to be working again. Sure, she had a job at the ticket stand at a theater, but it wasn't the same thing as being able to do what she really loved. Diligently she lined up all the cosmetics in the counter, first by function, and then by shade. She added rows of brushes to her left, and triangle appliers to her right and went to work.
“Just watch this,” Yuna said to someone behind Melody, “This is really cool.”
Melody wasn't really paying attention. She was in her zone. The woman was going to be on stage, working, sweating, she was assuming by the very pronounced strength in Sweetie's arms that she was the drummer of the band. Towards the back, then. She needed to be more dramatic if she wanted to be noticed. And no one dyed their hair that color if they wanted to blend.
Melody didn't think. She just did. Her hands seemed to know what brush to use, what powders, what liquids. She tucked her tongue between her teeth and went to work. When she was done there was a pleasant tingle between her shoulder blades, that particular lightness that came with really enjoying your work. Sweetie looked like a million bucks.
“Holy rusted metal batman!” She exclaimed and threw her powerful arms around Melody. “I'm gorgeous.”
“You were gorgeous before,” Melody said, patting the other woman on her back, “I just helped.”
“If I weren't afraid of ruining my lipstick, I'd kiss you.”
And like that, Sweetie was off to show everyone her brand new face. Melody was smiling to herself when another body slipped into the chair in front of her. The scent of baby powder and mint overtook her. She didn't need to look up to know who it was.
“Can I be next?”
Melody blushed and turned her gaze towards the slender dark eyed beauty before her. She was even prettier than Melody remembered. With the piercings in place your eyes were drawn towards the elegant angles and the faeish dimples.
“If you ask nicely,” Melody managed to say.
“How nice?”
Tara leaned in close, real close. Her slender frame was tucked into a stripped corset that made her body look even longer than Melody knew it was. Her skirt was a short fringe of lime green across the very tops of her legs. Tara was wearing thigh highs, but there was a few inches of bare skin between the tops of those and the bottom of the skirt. She looked vivid and dangerous.
Melody knew it was flirtation. She had spent the past few days thinking about what she was going to do about it. The little surge of interest in her belly could not be ignored, neither could the intermittent daydreams about exploring the sleek pixie.
“I...haven't decided.”
“Fair,” Tara said sitting more comfortably in the seat, “but still, I gotta be on stage in like..twenty minutes. Can you rescue me again and work your make-up magic?”
“If you take me to dinner tomorrow.”
The words were out before Melody could stop herself from saying them. Tara's eyes went wide, but her lips curled into a smirk. “Oh really?”
“I mean, if that's too much for you...”
“Oh no, but is it too much for you?”
Melody thought about it as she went through the array of cosmetics in front of her. She pulled out a base and dabbed her brush into the contents.
“I don't know,” she answered, “I've never...I mean.”
“You've never been with another woman?”
Melody shook her head. “I never really thought about it...until you.”
“I'm flattered.”
Melody drew the brush across Tara's brow, and then swept it over the height of her cheeks. Tara had a good face. Well, it seemed like she had a good everything, but her face was especially nice. “You're pretty. And you're talented. And your boobs look excellent in a corset.”
Tara waggeled her brows. “Kind of you to notice.”
“But I have no idea if I could even...you know...be with you.”
“Well, I promise to be gentle if you ever want to find out.”
Melody hesitated for just a moment. “Kiss me.”
Tara jerked as if someone had stuck her with a pin. “Really?”
“Well.” Tara tapped the eye shadow brush to even out the contents on the bristles. “It seems to me that if I don't even like the kiss, then dinner might very well be unnecessary.”
“That's valid.” Tara wiggled in her seat and then stood up, offering her hand out. “Come here.”
Melody took the hand and stood up. They were nearly the same height, and for some reason that turned the simple act of looking into one another's eyes into a very intimate thing. They weren't just dark, Melody realized. There were flecks of brown and copper. Like fall leaves caught on a very still lake in the last days of autumn.
Tara closed the minuscule distance between them. The soft press of her corseted chest turned Melody's knees into jelly. A hand decorated with dark fingernail slid up and cupped the back of her blonde head. She didn't pull, or tug, or demand. The movement was gentle enough that Melody could have pulled away, but she didn't.
She closed her eyes, and felt the soft press of another woman's lips against her own. They were like warm satin molding against her mouth. Melody dipped her head out in instinct, and then felt the wet touch of Tara's tongue. She made a soft sound and parted her lips, letting the kiss deepen.
It was good. Electricity built in all the places their body touched. Wild tingles dancing through her skin until she felt like a plucked wire. She wrapped her hands around the slenderness of Tara's middle, resting her thumbs on the subtle swell of hips. She wanted more, and it shocked her.
When the kiss finally ended, Melody was breathless and flushed.
“So?” Tara asked, “Dinner tomorrow?”
“Oh yes.” Melody nodded, licking her lips to savor the taste of their kiss. “Oh yes.”
*****
It was the beginning of the most intense two months of Melody's life. Tara, unlike most of the former cheerleader's romantic interests, didn't push for more. She seemed more than willing to just let Melody decide how far they could go. Melody liked the kissing, that was pretty much incredible, but she wasn't sure if she'd be able to...you know...go all the way. That was a whole different territory.
“Why not?” Yuna asked, plopping down on the other side of the sofa, a box of take out in one hand, and the remote for the television the other. “I mean, you've got the same parts.”
It was a point, but it didn't sway Melody. She sighed. “You like you Macintosh, right? It's great for your musical interests, it lets you play with your pictures...all of that, right?”
“Well, yeah.”
“I think Mac's are very pretty. They come in all these colors and they seem to sparkle...but I don't have one. Why? Because I've been paying with the PC my entire life. My family was very pro PC. So, even if I were interested in a Mac...”
“Are you comparing your girlfriend to a computer? I am pretty sure that's the definition of objectification.”
“It's a metaphore.”
“Oh, so she is your girlfriend.”
Melody blushed, realizing the trap she had set herself up in. She had been very careful about calling Tara her girlfriend. Yeah, they texted all the time, yes they went out on dates, they kissed. Melody went to all of Tara's shows, and often did the make-up for the band. There was a certain kind of intermingling that went being being a casual...something.
“Shut up.”
“Oh, zing.” Yuna rolled her eyes and flicked on the television.
“Is if that different?” Melody asked a few minutes later. “Being with a woman?”
Yuna shrugged. “Different? Sure, but not like...bad different or good different. At least not or me. But I like all the variety that the world has to offer. Men, women and everything else on the spectrum. I like people and I like sex. I find that the two go together pretty well.”
“So how will I know?”
“You gotta try.”
It seemed both simple and complicated all at once.
“My mom is going to be here next week.”
“You said that. Is that what's got you all uppity? Your deacon's wife mother coming into town having no clue that her precious baby is playing footsie with another woman?'
“It's...part of it. Yes.”
“Yeah, alright. But you better handle that and quick.”
Melody wasn't sure what Yuna meant by that, and she didn't really have the desire to ask. Instead she said, “How are you and Sweetie doing?”
On the night of Melody and Tara's first kiss, Sweetie and Yuna had also shared a little lip locking, and considerably more.
“She's having some issues with the last stages of her transition. It's expensive as hell, but she knows it's for her. I think I'm going to try to take her out to distract her.”
Melody wondered if it was any easier or hard to tell your parents that you were trans than it was to tell them you might be gay. She knew the two got compared a lot, but Melody wasn't sure that it was fair for either group. The word 'fair' seemed to echo inside of her mind. She didn't want to tell her mom about Tara, not until there was a certainty about what was going on. She wasn't going to get that certainty sitting on Yuna's couch and talking about Sweetie. There was really only one way to know if there was really anything to tell. With a sigh she stood up and tugged her jacket on.
“Where are you going?”
“To Tara's place.”
*****
“Well hello there gorgeous.” Tara's hair was still wet from a recent shower, and clung around her face with the same dark curls of a wrought iron bed frame. “What brings you here?”
“You,” Melody said with far more ease than she felt. “I was hoping to...hang out.”
Tara's brow, carefully sculpted, jerked up her forehead. “What? Like, Netflix and chill?”
Melody blushed. “Something like that.”
Tara stood there for a long moment. Her bare feet on top of the welcome mat just inside the door. The bright orange terry cloth robe clinging to her body.
“If you're sure.” She stepped back and left the door open, clearly leaving it up to Melody. It was a comfort, knowing that this was her choice and hers alone. If Tara had demanded it, or gave some kind of ultimatum, Melody would have just turned and walked off. But that wasn't Tara's style.
Melody stepped inside and closed the door be
hind her. The sound of the lock turning in the door was incredibly loud.
Tara's apartment was small, a single bedroom affair with very little in the way of space, but she didn't have to share it with anyone. There was no television, just a futon with a laptop perched on one side. Melody knew that the futon was also where Tara slept. The only bedroom in the house was dedicated to Tara's music.
“Mel,” Tara said as she perched against the fridge in the closet sized kitchen. “You okay?”
“Nervous.”
“Why?”
Melody didn't say anything. Her eyes were riveted on the way that Tara looked in that simple robe. Most people couldn't pull of that particular shade of orange, but she made it look natural. The neckline made her head look like it was swimming over pumpkin fluff. She crossed her long long legs and it exaggerated the curve of her hip.
Melody felt her mouth go dry.
“You are so damn gorgeous.”
Tara's smile was bright, but it didn't quite crinkle her autumn leaf eyes. “You aren't so bad yourself.”
“No,” Melody shook her head and stepped forward. She wished suddenly she'd done more than throw on a jacket. She was still wearing her work clothes, a white button down shirt and khaki pants. “Well, alright, sure. I'm not so bad but...I just want to tell you how incredibly beautiful you are.”
Tara's smile faltered. “Mel, are you breaking up with me?”
Melody laughed and shook her head. “No, not at all. I even told Yuna that you were my girlfriend today.”
“Yuna knew that already.”
“Maybe,” Melody said, “but I didn't. I thought we were just dating. That maybe you might be seeing other women. But I was stupid to think that. We aren't seeing anyone else, right?”
Tara shook her head slowly. “No, no we aren't.”
Melody's hand reached forward and tugged on one line of the terry cloth bow. It came undone easily. Tara didn't move. For a moment, neither did the robe. Some trick of gravity kept it clinging together, and then, all at once, it fell open.
She wasn't wearing anything beneath. The long line of fabric framed a glorious body, liberally decorated with tattoos. Her swan like neck and slender shoulders were bare of markings, but the underside of her ripe breasts (with pierced nipples) were cupped with ink shaped to look like flower petals, so that her mounds, even though they lacked ink, were still part of the flowers. The long line of her belly had only a naval piercing, with a tiny skull dangling from the curved metal bar. Her hips had claw marks on either side, like some great beast had mauled her. Clever artistry had made it look like the body beneath was a rainbow peaking out from sundered skin.