p.s
don't expect proust...
Missing Me
Book One in the Fan Girl series
Chapter One
Blood is thicker than water, but water is more useful after you’ve slaughtered your relatives.-
Liz Marshall’s Maxims corrected
They were back.
Again.
For the third weekend in a row. Liz had put her foot down when Jen had tried to get her back here on a weeknight, she might indulge Jen's insane whims in all other areas but when it came to endangering her job Liz had her limits. It was getting to be an obsession every week they would end up at one of these clubs full to bursting with men whose faces and bodies looked as though they'd been chiselled from marble and women whose last meals were a dim and distant memory, a place where Liz obviously didn't belong but Jen sadly did. Liz loved her sister but she never made the mistake of thinking she understood her. yet every weekend Liz dutifully trudged down with Jen to do the round of these achingly cool clubs only to have Jen look around, shake her head and herd Liz to the next one. Liz knew what she was looking for, or more precisely who but she was reluctant to bring it up with Jen and so she found a seat close to the bar and folded herself into the most comfortable position possible without exposing herself to what would no doubt be a most unappreciative audience to wait for Jen to find what she was looking for.
Every girl is told in one form or other the story of the handsome prince who finds the princess whisks away that pesky independence pays off her mortgage makes her Mrs. handsome prince and they no doubt live happily ever after, if we don't count frequent infidelities (on his part) and a couple of nervous break downs (on hers). Flashing forwards to the 21st century Mr. handsome prince is replaced by Mr. celebrity-actor/ musician/ sportsman. Walk on part in eastenders? Lead the way and watch the clothing fly. And that was why Jen was here Jen, like many girls of not inconsiderate prettiness had learned that her face and figure meant that something’s in life were made easier for her. it was not vanity, it was reality. Jen had mastered the art of smiling while widening her eyes in bewilderment at the age of six and she had learned by now to wield that smile to devastating effect free drinks, respect, power, parking ticket? What parking ticket? Her beauty, she had learned, got her the things she wanted and tonight like all the nights before she wanted to catch a piece of star dust, tonight was the night she'd catch Mr. Prince and she would finial be treated like a princess.
Liz could tell the moment they entered the club she felt Jen tense up beside her, saw the crowds part like the red sea around them and heard the low murmur of exited voices over the continuous thump coming from the speakers and looked down at her feet in dismay "there goes my chance at an early night" she thought irritated that she had let jen coax her into these sole destroying heels (ha-ha sole) there they were the four members of Dusk the band that was making mincemeat of the charts with their blend of achingly sentimental lyrics over visceral savage beats ever since they had mentioned this club in an interview one of the oh so hip music journals that Jen poured over on a weekly basis Jen had been dragging her here to wait for them so sure they were the answer to her visa card prayers and low and behold they were here,
“just great” Liz had nothing against them personally there music was great, so they were a little wild, they could afford to be she just wish they hadn’t turned up on the one night she had let Jen pick her clothing here she was perched on one of those ridiculous bar stools in skyscraper heels in a skirt that was too short and a top that was too tight surrounded by people whose attractiveness far exceeded there intelligence and just wanting to be at home but now that they had arrived she knew Jen was going to wait this out.
James, Sam, Chris and Brick... even their names were musical rolling of the tongue with ease They moved with the confidence of the attractive straight; backed and self assured each beautiful in his own way they threw smiles around that nearly blinded Liz with their brilliance as they were lead to a roped off area to the side they were all so ridiculously good looking that Liz wanted to applaud they weren’t people, she thought, they were a walking aphrodisiac, raising an eyebrow at the direction of her thoughts she grinned turning towards Jen to include her in the joke but was stopped in her tracks by the look in her sister’s eyes Jen’s usually abstracted gaze was now clear eyed and focused her lips formed something that could optimistically be called a smile but more accurately called a baring of teeth she looked... fierce she was serious and for a brief moment Liz pitied the man she chose Jen had a single minded determation that meant that anything that stood in her way usually crumbled long before she gave up and right now she wanted one of Dusk and Liz would bet cash she didn’t have that she would get one but then being a man he would probably enjoy being caught. Sighing she rearranged herself on the stool trying to find a comfortable spot and retreated in to her happy place: she was in bed she was wearing a massive t-shirt and boxers her feet were unusually warm and she was watching “Doctor Who” on her laptop such a happy place- she was jolted out of her happy place by a ridiculously sharp elbow in her ribs wincing Liz wrenched her attention back to Jen with a sigh.
"Is he looking? I can feel his eyes on me! this is going to work" she hissed without moving her lips amazing thought Liz beautiful, smart and a ventriloquist Jen gets all the talent
"all I can do is pick up things with my toes" she murmured dully
"What?" Jen said irritably "never mind just check is he looking?"
Liz just caught herself before she rolled her eyes of course he is looking at you she thought looking up she saw just as she expected the lean face of Chris the bass guitarist of Dusk his dark brown hair looked as though it hadn't seen the business end of a hairbrush in a week his face was interesting, too strong to be called pretty but it was defiantly attractive his nose looked as though it had been broken and set badly giving his symmetrical features some balance there was a slight tilt to his lips that made him look wicked but it was his eyes that gave Liz pause for a second they were the strangest colour blue she had ever seen they were light to the point of grey but not quite, as Liz looked at them she was struck by their implacability Liz thought that maybe Jen’s victory wasn’t a forgone conclusion after all. briefly there eyes meet and Liz felt heat rise to her cheeks she wanted to look away but couldn’t something hot flared in his eyes something lurched inside her stomach and she looked away in an instant the look was gone almost as though it had never been and was replaced with a look a pure male appreciation as his eyes raked down Jen’s body. Liz had been weighed, measured and dismissed, and who could blame him, Jen was probably the most beautiful girl that Liz had ever seen and she knew it. even wracked with feigned self doubt she had turned her body outward slightly to emphasise her curves holding her breath so her boobs thrust forwards and was tracing her long slim fingers around her throat to draw attention to the creamy perfection of her cleavage as Liz looked at her she felt that urge to applaud all over again Jen couldn’t have looked more tempting if she was dressed in fig leaves holding an apple jen would be fine but her, she was beginning to feel a little cold inside to her it all seemed to calculated to cold hearted what at first had been a joke had turned deadly earnest in Jen's eyes and Liz didn't want to be there to witness it she didn’t belong her in a room full of physically perfect people and once she got her pop star she wouldn't even belong with jen, what use is a groupies groupie? she murmured her excuses knowing that by now Jen would have forgotten that she existed so intent was she on the hunt, and headed for the exit into the cold hoping she never had to see the inside of one of those places again.
It was two weeks before she spoke to Jen not for want of trying but nobody could ever contact Jen unless she wanted them quietly grateful to have her weekends back Liz had happily spent time fielding questions about her whereabouts from their mother whilst deflecting rather pointed suggestions about Liz’s lack of a personal life and its correlation to her refusal to “tidy herself up a little”. Liz frowned at that, she was always tidy, tidy, neat and efficient it was the reason she was so good at her job she had worked the same job since she had left school she was a personal assistant to the assistant managing director of adam huxley’s forensic accountants. She wasn’t entirely sure what the assistant managing directgor did but it mostly involved three hour liquid lunches, ambling about the building wearing a Bluetooth head set, acting like a dick to anyone who earned less than him and chasing his secretary around her desk. she didn’t really enjoy it but she took pride in her ability to do it well plus it paid her rent and there was even some left over at the end of the month to pay for luxuries like food and necessities like a serious addiction to DVD box sets. She was so quietly competent that 70% of the things she did went completely unnoticed though she liked to think that if she ever pulled a sickie, which she had never done, the very walls would crumble. Still she knew her life wasn’t very exciting but to be honest she could never find the energy to change it with that thought she collapsed in to her sofa and got to the very serious business of watching 24 after nearly two hours of watching Jack Bower slap the piss out of a load of terrorist Liz felt strangely refreshed a feeling that began to slip away when the phone rang and completely disappeared when she heard the voice on the other end the line
"Lizzy how are you?" jen squealed down the phone
"I’m-"
"That’s great! Guess what?" jen interrupted
"You slept with a member a Dusk?" Liz asked dully thinking of Chris
"Not quite" Liz suppressed a smile as she made a mental note to buy a copy of Dusk's album
"What do you mean not quite?"
"I met there roadie his names bodie, isn’t that cool, bodie the roadie? Any way I meant him at the club and he invited me to a privet party and to cut a long story short I’m stuck in Coventry can you come and get me"
"Hang on how did we go from private party to fucking lamington spa?"
"Don’t shout!"
"Alright, ok" she said calming herself as she grabbed her keys and mentally planned the journey
"ill be outside the train station in a couple of hours give or take ill ring you when I get there were going to have a talk about taking lifts from strangers called poodle and making sure you always have money for emergencies"
"It’s boddie!"
"Right."
Liz took a moment to quietly mourn the loss of her weekend and five minutes later she was bundled up in her largest most ragged hoddie, paint splattered jeans and sensible shoes with great arch support she grabbed her massive "wonder bag" full to the brim with just in case things and she was out of the door while on the train Liz did a mental stock take of the contence of her bag which ranged from the mundane like plasters, purse and keys to the bizarre like a hack saw, blindfold and a glue gun but the bag was her lifeline as long as she had it she was safe from whatever the world decided to throw at her plucking out a dog eared paperback she leaned back in her seat and mentally prepared the lecture she would deliver to Jen when she saw her.
Chapter Two
Forgive my harsh words and unreasonable tone
My heart is too cold and I’m all alone
The weather is gloomy, Facebook is crap
I sit at home waiting for you to call back
Yes I blanked you and tried to cut you out
But if I didn’t know then I know without doubt
I need your irritation; I need your harsh words
I feel an obligation to hang my heart on yours
And if it’s all too late now and if the spark has gone
Well I’ll just go away then and sit alone at home
-“Regretfuly Yours” Dusk (c) 2010
Chris had woken that morning feeling as though the Salvation Army had taken up residence in his skull, “hangover” did not quite cover what he was feeling and without opening his eyes he knew that the rest of his day could only get worse, he could tell this because he could feel something against his back, something rather pointed, something that did not belong in his bed after a night he had only a vague recollection of, he opened one eye cautiously and looked down and was confronted by the bearded chin of Sam “bam-bam” Wallace shoved unceremoniously in his armpit. Chris closed his eyes again praying for strength and then casually rolled Sam right off his bed he fell with a satisfying thump.
“’king hell! What happened?” sam mumbled his head looked rather comical as it popped up over the side of the bed
“You were in my bed, again.” Chris growled sleep roughing his usually smooth voice, Sam yawned and looked around the room and then at Chris as though he’d just noticed his appearance and was surprised but not overly perturbed by his location
“Well yeah, but why am i down here?” Sam asked wincing as he stood his hair sticking up at odd angles, he stretched
“oh for fucks sake!” Chirs yelled ignoring the fresh peals of pain his own voice had set off
“you need to put some clothes on”
“wha- oh, sorry mate” Sam hastily grabbed a towel that was hanging on the radiator and casually tied it around his waist
Chris sat up clutching his head in his hands and thanked God tonight was the last night of the tour he was not sure how much more of this he could take, he loved touring, getting on stage, and playing to a live crowd hearing them sing along to the words that they had written but a tour bus is a very small place really and it was almost impossible to get any time on his own, he loved the guys he really did but he could do with seeing at lot less of them a lot less often he shuddered as he thought of Sam’s morning glory waking him up and raised his head just wanting to have a shower wandering how much hot water it would take for him to feel clean and how much hot coffee it would take to feel human
“are you still here?”
“nope.” And in a flash of wild hair and white buttock Sam was gone Chris shuddered once again when he had dreamed of being a rock star as a kid he was almost certain that Sam had made no appearance, when he had thought about waking up after a wild nigh out Sam hadn’t even had a look in he was sure someone out there would be thrilled to wake up in bed with Dusk’s skinny drummer but he was equally sure it wasn’t him
In the movie of his life he was editing this bit out.
Chapter Three
The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach in absence of an oven, a scalpel works just as well- Liz Marshall’ s Maxims corrected
It was 5.30 when the train trundled to a halt outside the station looking around at the mostly deserted train station Liz sighed thinking this was really not how she had wanted to spend her weekend and began rooting around in her bag for her mobile as she headed towards the nearest exit before her hands had touched the phone it buzzed she nearly dropped her bag in surprise but caught it deftly Liz looked around proudly for some approval, sighed in disappointment that nobody had noticed her quick recovery and bent her head to study the phone
“liz,” it read “Boddie ses he can get us in to see Dusk 2nite!! im at the premier inn come meet me”
Well, thought Liz brevity is the soul of wit, i just wish she was less witty.
Liz gritted her teeth in frustration muttering and weighing up the disadvantages of sororcide whilst looking wistfully back at the platform she didn’t really know this area too well as she stepped out of the station she looked around trying to locate a map or some clue as to where she was supposed to be going Jen’s message hadn’t been all that informative though she was impressed that Jen had thought to give her a clue as to her location many's the time Liz had recived a text from an unknown number at an ungodly hour with just the words “get me out of here” leaving Liz to work out the rest Liz had become quite good at the game she liked to think of as “find Jen”. Outside she saw a taxi rink looking in her purse she saw that she had about twenty quid and change she thought that should be enough to get her where she was going provided it wasn’t too far, but then again she could always stop at a cash point if it wasn’t. she hailed a cab and twenty minutes and £11.50 later she arrived outside the Premier Inn. Rubbing her temples from the dull headache that had begun, a product of a particularly loquacious taxi driver with a taste for dub-step, she walked through the automatic doors of a particularly shabby Premier Inn she looked around for any sign of her sister but before she opened her mouth to ask at the concierge she heard a shrill female voice followed by the rumble of male voices
“well that answers that question” she muttered as she moved towards the sound of the voices, where Jen went men followed
“- so there was me, compleatly starkers holding a lampshade!” Jen finshed to the laughter of the men around her some of them she noticed where wiping away tears of laughter to was strange to see that Jen who looked almost fragile in comparison to the large and slightly intimidating men had them eating out of her hands Liz suppressed a pang of envy at her ability to be so compleatly comfortable in the company of other people, often when Liz tried to talk to people she came out sounding sharp and rather forbidding Jen on the other had was everything that was brightness and light and she attracted people to her effortlessly. More often than not when Liz tried to tell a story she ended up tangling it so the punchline came first and ruined the joke she could almost see peoples attention straying from her when she spoke which made her clumsy and self contious. As a excuse to look anywhere but at her sister Liz took a moment to look around her, they were in a large room whith the tv blasting there were ash trays dotted around the room filled with cigarette butts and crushed cans of Fosters littered everywhere just looking at it made her fingers itch with the need to tidy. In the centre of the room sitting cross legged on a table surrounded by particularly beefy looking men was Jen looking delicate and pretty like a lilly atop and rippling stream, grace amidst disorder. someone handed her a cup of tea from a broken down vending machine and she smiled her thanks Jen looked up and saw Liz standing awkwardly in the doorway and her face lit up with genuine warmth
“Lizzy! You came!, here you have to meet everybody” Liz tamped down the feeling of dread that swamped her, she wasn’t good with people and if she was honest what she wanted more than anything was to be at home not stuck in a room with people she had never met making small talk Jen slipped her arm casually around Liz’s shoulders steering her towards a man dressed entirely in black with a beard and a beer belly who looked to be about her father’s age, though her father wouldn’t be seen with the tattoos that twinned around his bulging forearms Liz’s father looked like exactly what he was, a bank manger of an unsuccessful independent bank he was short with a bland unremarkable face the only thing that looked slightly out of place was his moustash that he described as luxurious but in Liz’s personal opinion looked ridiculous but even that had been tamed into submission with his razor and a generous helping of brill cream liz’s father looked as though the sixties had passed him by while this man looked as though the “summer of love” had lasted well into the seventies
“this is kent, hes the road manager, he deals with all the equipment for the tour and stuff, he also does an awesome impression of ozzy osbourne, hes toured with him twice” Jen fluttered eyelashes at Kent and Liz saw to her amazement the man’s implacable expression melt as he blushed slightly at Jen flattery, if Jen noticed his reaction she didn’t show it as she continued her introductions “Kent, this is my baby sister, Lizzy”
“Your sister?” he blurted out
“baby?”Liz raised an eyebrow but said nothing
Kent recovered quickly but Liz saw the flicker of shock and disbelief dance across his feature as he took in Liz appearance she knew he was mentally comparing the two and as usual she was found wanting. She saw him contrasting her dull brown hair with Jen’s waist length honey blond tresses, she saw him note her round face and plump body and Jen’s graceful, lean figure her high cheekbones and startlingly green eyes Liz’s eyes were hazel and where Jen would not look out of place sitting atop a cloud clutching a harp liz was all too aware that she would look more at home under a bridge. Liz smiled ruefully she was well used to this reaction but as she thrust out a hand for him to shake, she remebered the way Chris’ eyes had done the same and the devil in her made her want to call him on it.
“i know she’s hideous isn’t she, in the old days they used to drown creatures like her, i for one don’t even like to admit we’re related but i’ve seen the paper work, so i’m stuck with her”
Kent seemed to choke on surprised laughter as Liz grinned up at him, it was strangely librating saying exactly what she wanted without caring about what people thought about it she noted she would never have acted like that with anyone at work but there was a freedom in knowing that she would probably never see these people again she surpressed a smile as she imagined the burly Kent lumbering through the elegant offices of Adam Huxley’s forensic accountants
“Pleased to meet you Lizzy i take it you’re going to come and watch the show tonight? I promised your sister i would get her in to see the boys, its the end of the tour so its bound to be a good night we’re all going out afterwards you might as well tag along”
Liz considered for a moment, all though the last thing she wanted to do was watch her sister throw herself at a load of drunken musicians she had never been to a live gig and something inside her wanted to do something really fun and reckless besides her holiday started on Monday and god knew she didn’t have anything exiting planned her mind flicked back to Chris’ face two weeks ago in the club and something she couldn’t quite name welled up in her and for the second time that day she gave into the voice in the back of her head
“Sounds fun, i’m up for it”
Jen squealed in her ear
“This is going to be so fun, you’re going it enjoy it i promise. Come on its starting in a couple of hours but we might still have enough time to get ready” without waiting for Liz’s response she grabbed her arm and dragged her unceremoniously towards the lifts, two hours to get ready? How in the hell could it possibly that Jen that long? Liz looked at Jen as they came to a halt on the third floor
“Hang on where did you get those clothes? And how did you pay for a hotel room? I thought you were broke”
Jen sighed as she tugged her into a small room at the end of the corridor
“Well i am now i used my overdraft to pay for it and then i went shopping i mean i had too didn’t i? I couldn’t very well meet Dusk dressed as i was, no don’t roll your eyes its going to be great! Right what do you think about this dress?”
Jen was going a mile a minute flicking from one subject to the other as she tossed one item after another at Liz for her inspection she was obviously avoiding something
“What happened the night i left you? You weren’t exactly clear about that” Liz asked suspiciously
Something that looked like anger flashed across Jen’s face and was gone again in an instant
“oh” she said breezily “no big mystery there, i walked over to them got stopped before i reached them ended up chatting to a security guard who introduced me to Boddie and then we went to a party by the way i can’t wait till you meet him he so sweet!”
Liz raised an eyebrow something about that story didn’t ring true she had seen the way Chris had looked at her sister and the way her sister looked back at him, something had gone on there and she wasn’t entirely sure what it was but one thing was certain, she was going to find out.
“Where is this Bowie guy any way? Liz asked innocently
“That’s not funny you know.”
“i know but i just can’t seem to help myself.”
“And for your information he’s at the venue their doing a sound check, see I’ve even got the lingo down”
“That’s great Jen, useless, but great” Jen ignored her
“What do you think about this?”Jen asked holding up a top that looked as though it had been shrunk in the wash and knowing Jen it probably had been. Repeatedly.
“I thought i might try them with these” she said tossing a pair of shinny gold shorts at Liz
You know a bit of the Kylie look, i mean what the hell i’ve got the arse for it!”
Liz threw them back
“where’s the rest of it?”
Jen glared at her
“what? Lord know i don’t know anything about clothing, but i would have thought its primary function was to cover”
Jen humphed and turned back towards the mountain of clothing she was sorting through whilst keeping up a monologue about know it all sisters Liz suppressed a grin no matter what else she was Jen was always a laugh
while threw herself on to a bed that looked as though that it hadn’t been slept in mentally withdrawing from speculating on where her sister had been spending her nights and with whom Liz idly wondered why it was that the more attractive a girl was the longer she spent primping and fiddling with herself it seemed like the most absurd paradox but then again that might be exactly why they were considered the most attractive. she looked guilty down at her ragged jeans with its fraying hem and the parts at the insides of her thighs worn smooth by her pump legs and then at her favourite hooded jumper stretched out of shape buy constant use and careless washes and shrugged thinking that if beauty it was a choice between beauty and comfort, beauty be damned! She stood up and began carefully folding the clothes that Jen had left strew around the room.
Chapter Four
You want a nice boy In the day time
You make him meet you mum
He holds your hand and gives you flowers
You pretend that hes the one
But when the sun goes down
You give into your lust
The good boy disappears with daylight
The bad boy reappears at Dusk.
“Dusk”, Dusk (c) 2010
Chris felt the sweat popping out on his forehead cold and cleansing his hands shook slightly as they flickered across the fret he played half formed, half forgotten tunes, the debris of brain filled with bittersweet memories he played until the tunes ran into one another intertwining until he no longer recognised the sounds he made as music they were merely memories. His breath sounded ragged to his own ears, his pulse beat out an irregular counter point to the sounds he coaxed from his passive instrument. In the back of his mind he felt a growing dread; in two short hours he would be on stage fear grabbed him by the throat drying his mouth till his lips stuck to his gums his face twisting into a sick parody of a smile he loved this feeling, when anticipation curled in his stomach turning till he felt almost ill. every time they performed he was sure that this was the most scared he had ever been in his life yet equally sure he would feel just as scared again and again until he was too old to feel the fear and know it for what it was, confirmation of life. Chris spent so much time secretly fearing he was dead inside that he revelled in moments like these.
Chris was a planner. he was logical, implacable and unemotional, he saw people as puzzles to be solved then abandoned and saw emotions as finite sometimes he saw the end before the beginning his accountants soul often reckoned the cost of emotional entanglements far higher than there worth this attitude had lead to him being to referred to as “Chris the cold” and “Chris Kringle” by ex girlfriends thought to be honest it may also have something to do with his tendency to introduce them to people as his “current” girlfriends.
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