Chapter Seven: My Favourite Dancer Was Sitting In The Audience
AN: So I was talking on the phone to one of my friends about my loss of reviewers for this series and I was like, "well, maybe since they're out of school for a week, they'll start reading again, cause they won't be so busy." He was just kind of silent for a moment and then said, "Oh my god, are you serious?" and when I told him that I was, he was like, "well, maybe like, two of them, but any of them older than like, twenty-two or out of the states won't be off for the week." So I was like, "why not?" and he was just kind of quiet for a moment again and then asked me why people in Norway (for example) would celebrate Thanksgiving. Yeah, I felt stupid.
But for some reason I really feel like working on this story again!
Music is "My Alcoholic Friends" by The Dresden Dolls.
"So will you be staying the night at his house?" Mum asked. I rolled my eyes.
"Oh, yeah. That would go over well with his parents, 'oh hey, this is my boyfriend Justin; he'll be staying here tonight, in my room, in my bed'."
"I didn't mean that. It's just that this concert will probably go for hours," Mum said with a shrug. "So rather than him coming all the way out here to Bridlewood, I thought you might just be staying with him."
"Oh," I said. I hadn't thought of that. What if I was staying the night? I didn't think to ask. I winced as Mum pulled my hair tight. "What are you doing to my scalp, woman?" I demanded.
"Braiding it. Duh," she said. "It'll look cute."
"No, I'll look bald." It was true. Every time she French braided my hair I looked like I didn't have any, since it was such a light colour.
"Calm down. I'm not going to make you leave them in for more than an hour or two. I'll take them out before you leave."
"Then why do it?"
"So that it goes all wavy. Your hair is so terribly straight," she said with a slight click of her tongue. "Just like your fathers. You look a lot like him, you know."
"Really?" I asked. I was pleased, but I never really knew how to respond to her talking about my father. She didn't do it often, and more often than not it made her sad for a day or two.
"Mm-hmm. You have his hair and eyes." She smiled. "You act like him, too. He was sweet, but a little misguided. He was't cut out for gang life. He was much too spastic."
"I'm not spastic!"
"Of course you're not," she said off-handedly. "God, Justin, I wish you could have known him longer." I was silent. Like I said, I was never quite sure how to respond to her. "Well, I suppose you should go find an outfit to wear, love. Then I'll take out the braids."
I nodded and got up to go upstairs. I honestly had no idea what to wear. It was a bad habit of mine, waiting until the last moment to decide. And as I said, I had never been to a rock concert and so had no idea what to wear. I briefly considered my plaid pleated skirt (you know, the whole schoolgirl thing), seeing as my knees were almost completely healed and were now covered with flesh-coloured band-aids rather than gauze and Tegaderm. I quickly rejected the idea, however, because I could just see the evening going wrong in a number of ways if I did wear one. Plus, the pavilion was outside and it would probably get cold as the night went on.
I threw on a pair of black hip-huggers and left my room, listening at the top of the steps to ensure Mum was downstairs (and absorbed in the Aluria Chronicles DVD, by the sound of it) before I slipped quietly into her room.
Her room was the complete opposite of mine. Where I kept my room neat and tidy, she had clothes and papers and… stuff thrown everywhere. Her carpet was blood red and soft, but you couldn't see it through the junk.
Her walls were covered in posters of just about anything that caught her fancy (which was typically some otaku-ish item or another). She had one directly over her headboard of (I kid you not) Miroku. For those of you who don't know, Miroku is a character from InuYasha. He's a lecherous monk who routinely gropes women and asks them to bare his children because if he dies he wants someone to carry on his bloodline, which is pretty stupid since he has a cursed wind tunnel in his hand that's passed down through the generations and could suck him up at any minute.
Anyway, it's rather creepy that she has that poster over her bead. It's nothing though, compared to the faux-Snickers commercial on her closet door. It's of Ed Elric (from Fullmetal Alchemist). He has thought bubbles beside his head of yaoi scenes between him and Roy Mustang and Envy. Underneath that it says: Unwanted fantasies, another side effect of hunger. Next time, grab a Snickers.
Uh-huh. My mum is the original creepy otaku.
I crossed the room carefully and opened her closet door. It was full to the bursting point with clothes. You should know by now that my mum is a compulsive clothing shopper.
After a moment I found a shirt to wear. It was a black wide-strapped tank-top with black arm-warmers that were connected to the shirt with wide black ribbons. The arm-warmers themselves were laced with thin red satin ribbons. Turning the shirt around, I saw that the back of it was laced like a corset with the same red satin ribbons.
It was pretty. Smiling to myself I ventured back to my own room. I tried the shirt on and stood in front of the full-length mirror. Something was missing. Realizing what it was, I sighed and pulled the shirt off and hid it under my comforter before venturing downstairs.
I was right when I guessed that Mum was watching the Aluria Chronicles. It was all I could do not to get distracted by the sexy yaoi-ness that was playing out on the screen. Looking resolutely at Mum I gave her my very best uke eyes.
"Mummy?" I asked pitifully. She looked up at me and groaned.
"What is so important that you must pull me away from my anime?" she asked. I pouted.
"Never mind, I was just going to ask you to do my makeup, but if you're too busy—"
Mum was off of the couch in an instant, pulling me up the stairs and into her bathroom. I smiled to myself. Mum never missed a chance to put makeup on me. I was apparently a doll or something.
Following her instructions as to when I should close my eyes, look up, and/or hold very very still to avoid getting poked in any number of unpleasant places with a number of unpleasant things, my makeup was quickly and skillfully applied. I looked in the mirror and smiled. My eyes were lined in dark black kohl and subtly lidded with a gray shadow. My cheeks were rosy, blush bringing out my high cheekbones, and a sheer pink tinted my lips, making them look pouty.
"You are planning on wearing a shirt, right?" Mum asked as she took out my braids to render soft waves. I rolled my eyes. Honestly.
"I don't know yet."
"I'll help you pick one out!"
"No, that's fine!"
"Mum, you're missing your movie."
Mum looked like she had been torn between her two favourite things in the world which, of course, she had. With a sigh she hurried from her room. I followed and saw her go back downstairs. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. That had been close.
I went back to my room and pulled the shirt out from under my comforter.
The entire look, now complete with makeup, was wonderful. I gave a small, sad sigh when I realized once more that my long hair was still gone, but once that passed I was very pleased with the overall effect. I had just had time to shove my wallet into my back pocket (Mum said you should never take a purse to a concert) when the bell rang. I hopped downstairs in time to avoid Mum opening the door and potentially embarrassing me and threw open the door.
Jerry was standing there looking very cute in a tight shirt that said "Mandy Goes To Med School", a tight pair of blue jeans, and red Vans. His black hair was still damp, as if he had just gotten out of the shower.
"You're wearing a Dresden Dolls shirt to a Panic! At The Disco concert?" I heard Mum ask. I turned and saw her looking at Jerry. He didn't seem surprised, he just nodded.
"Yeah, they're on the tour, too," he said. "It's them and The Hush Sound, OKgo, and Panic! At The Disco. The Dresden Dolls are just the only ones that I happen to have a shirt for."
I think Mum stopped actively listening after he named the bands. And then my eardrums seemed to bust as she let out a shrill squeal.
"Justin! You must get me a Dresden Dolls concert shirt!" she said.
"You already asked for a Panic! At The Disco shirt," I pointed out wearily.
"Yeah, that too," she said as she ran off, presumably to find her purse. I still to this day have no idea how she manages to be a compulsive shopper without leaving the house and without the aid of a computer.
"Hey, isn't that my shirt?" she asked right before I was about to walk out the door.
"Bye Mum, see you later!" I said and hurried from the house.
The ride passed quickly with Justin yammering on about how excited he was to be going to the concert and how, gosh, I had gotten such good tickets. We finally arrived at the pavilion and made our way inside. As we were pushing our way through the crowd, Justin grabbed hold of my hand. It was probably just to keep from getting lost (it would be easy for someone his size to get lost in the crowd), but I found it to be adorable. I smiled at him and he grinned back.
He dragged me over to one of the many, many souvenir booths to buy the tee shirts that his mother had requested, along with a tour shirt for himself. It was probably a good two sizes too big on him even though he had gotten a small, because concert tees have a tendency to be made large.
Without really meaning to I imagined Justin in the shirt. Only the shirt. I blamed Laurel. She had a habit of sitting around my room in one of my larger tee shirts after sex.
I shook my head to clear those thoughts and followed Justin to our seats. He had commandeered the tickets in the car and so was the only one of us who could see the exact seat numbers.
Since there was still a good half hour until the show started we took our seats. Justin was practically jumping up and down with excitement in his. I smiled to myself. He was beautiful when he smiled. Well, he was beautiful anyway, but when he was smiling his face kind of lit up and… and he was just so beautiful.
Eventually the announcer dude announced that the concert would be starting and the lights of the pavilion dimmed (which was a considerable change since it was already getting dark and we were outside. Then the stage lights came on and there was the band.
Justin cheered with the rest.
I was just taken aback by how beautiful he was.
AN: When I wrote the first version of this story, I had never heard The Dresden Dolls, so I was very vague about them, and I focused more on Panic! At The Disco. And the only song I had ever heard by OKgo was the one with the treadmills, so yeah. But now I have all three band's CDs and so I can go into more detail. I'm so happy about that. It'll take up a whole extra chappy, though.
Every time I tell one of my friends that I bought a new CD they shrug and go, "limewire". But there's just something about the album art that I can't forfeit even to get my music free. Besides, I belong to the BMG music club, so I get all of my CDs for like, two dollars.
I'm so glad people like this version better, as well! I know I do! It seems more natural! It still doesn't go into as much depth as Blank Canvas does, though, but I suppose it does just fine.
Duzen Broken DreamZ: You reviewed like, ten of my stories in one day... or something... Only I didn't know cause ALERTS AREN'T WORKING! Grr... anyway, here's your update, fresh from the oven and into the Lunchbox!
Ryumaru shogunate: Yes, they seem much more realistic now. I think on the original I was just like, oh-em-gee, I'm almost to the end of the series! and then I just wanted to finish so I stopped caring about the actual story. I plead temporary insanity...
Kizuna: Well, I'm glad you go out of your way to check on my stories. And my forums. And everything. ::ego goes up to size twelve from previous ten::
Oh well, please review! If I put so much time into my writing and didn't get any reviews I'd have to run crying into the night!
♥'s and X-Rated Thoughts—Luci-chan