Not really romantic but this is the best categroy for the story. Definitely doesn't fit anywhere else and little warning, there is a rape described within. Brutal is a good term, closer to what usually happens but the after is the point of the story. Just mentioning so those who are squeamish can skip that part if they want.
Didn't realize it was this long so apologies on that part. I just kept going until I was happy with it and don't really see a place to break it up at.
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God of all the suggestions of a therapist to make, it just had to be this one. After what happened, anyone would understand not wanting to be near men. Yes granted I can't let it rule me, it wasn't my fault, but fuck it all to hell, why did I agree to this. I mean there's getting back up again, and then there is this.
Here I am in a hallway with plenty of men, fucking men, waiting for our turn to tryout. The guy sitting next to me on my left almost has to be gay or married, he hasn't done more than look at me when I sat next to him. The one on my right however can't take his eyes off me. I mean fuck, I'm going to clean his clock if he touches me and he just keeps staring, then he leans a little closer.
"What sort of freaky things do you do in bed, pink hair?" I glare at him tightening my jaw trying for unknown reasons to not punch him, run away screaming, or bawl my eyes out.
"There is no way in hell there will be anything done with you. Back away or I will make sure you never perform for any passed out drunk gal ever again."
He just stares at me his mouth hanging. Probably trying to figure out if what I said was an insult. The man on my left snorts and waves his hand so I look at him.
"Probably should have used smaller words, he doesn't look to have much upstairs." I just sigh and smile a little then lean back.
Unlike most of the rest I am not tuning my instrument or practicing riffs. Also can't seem to find my sense of humor. Haven't since that night, wasn't last night but despite what my therapist says I think I should be more past what happened last year. I still have problems going to the store, let alone talking to men.
Hell I find it hard to talk to anyone anymore. Most of the time I just sit in my apartment, practice, and watch TV. Do talk to my therapist once a week, she is very understanding and knows what I am going through. Well alright so she doesn't really, never been in the same place, but she has worked with other gals who have.
Jerk as my name is called out, what the hell I haven't been here as long as some of them. Most of the guys are frowning since they know that as well. Still my name was called and hell that is the hand collecting the next guy for the tryout. Hopping up I collect my case and head for the guy, he watches with one eyebrow raised.
Fuck if I get a comment about being a pink hair slut again I'm definitely decking somebody. Not even supposed to have pink hair, I'm naturally blonde. I do mean naturally, I'm almost platinum blonde, not out of a bottle. I wanted to be another color to not stand out to the fuck that did that, still not been caught, though the cops swear they are trying and he has done the same twice more.
Luckily he doesn't say anything as I get up to him. Simply nods and motions so I follow him the rest of the way down the hallway. Hallway ends at a door, and behind the door is the stage. I move out on the stage behind the guy looking around. The curtain is pulled to the side, there is another way up there though I'm not real sure it comes down.
Stop with a jerk when I realize the guys in the band are on the stage. I think I squeaked to because the hand turns around to look at me and so do the guys in the band. The one to my left is tall, at least six foot three, has big arms and an easy smile. The guy directly ahead past the hand is closer to my own height, also rather thin.
Definitely not a drug addict, he has a swimmer body if said swimmer didn't swim much. I mean put glasses on him, shorten the hair, and he is a geek. The third guy fiddling with the drum set has short hair. He is not a geek though, can tell because he is wearing glasses, also has a big nose, though he looks more like a cowboy if he had boots and the hat.
"Why is your hair pink?" This from the tall guy, he has one of those voices that is slightly nasal and yet it's a nice nasal.
"Mishap with hair dye. I wanted to be a redhead and ended up pink. I got used to it so keep doing it."
"A chick bassist, I don't like it." This from the geek so I glare at him.
"Doesn't matter what I have or don't have hanging between my legs, I can play and you want a bassist. Here I am so do you want me to play or leave you to try and get something good out of what is out there?" I get stared at for a few seconds so shrug and turn away to leave.
"Wait, we would like to hear you." Sigh and turn around.
"Do you got a song you want me to play?" Three shaken heads.
"We have limited success with what we have been doing so we will go in a new direction. Can you do something angry?"
Ponder that one for a moment then nod and head for the empty spot. After pulling out my bass, a beautifully done shiny black with red dragon breathing fire design, I hook it up to the system. Couple test thrums then close my eyes. Bringing my hand high with the pick I search within myself and find it, just the thing.
Bring the pick down as I adjust my fingers and let them strum along the strings as I beat out the tune. I'm not doing speed metal, I am strumming out my anger after what happened, what I reached because I was helpless and I refuse to return to there. My hands are moving fast and sure, letting all that determination out in the music.
Then there is a hand on my shoulder, I jerk away pulling off my bass in one fluid movement quite ready to beat a man down. The geek is waving his hands around and backing away, the rest of the guys are staring at me, even the hand. Then they are clapping so the bass comes down, hate to ruin the thing.
"That was beautiful."
"Definitely, pink hair or not you are definitely in." The geek looks at the other two then back to me.
"Some hostility issues but fuck it you are good."
"Don't fucking touch me while I'm playing." All four of the guys trade a glance then shrug.
"Alright, so long as you don't dance around on stage." Roll my eyes.
"I don't do that."
"I think Pinky here should sing with you." I think we all stare at the cowboy for a second, then the geek is looking at me.
"Maybe, assuming she is willing." Shrug at that.
"So long as you don't want me prancing around in a thong." Three nods then grins.
"Now that you say that it has a certain appeal."
"No." Their grins got bigger.
"Ah come on."
"No, ask again and I will leave." Four frowns, but they all shrug, makes me wonder who the hand is.
"What about a skirt?" This from the hand and I can't help the shiver, I was wearing a skirt on that night.
"No skirt, I will wear pants." The geek turns to the hand.
"Paul go on and kick the rest out, we will work with Pinky on the music." The hand snorts.
"Alright Brain, no taking over the world."
The tall guy and cowboy snort at that, I get it but can't do much past a small smile. Once Paul has left the other three turn back to me and we get a little closer. First thing is names, the geek is named Mark. The tall guy is Andrew, and the cowboy is Woody. Up close I can see them better so notice that Andrew has a pronounced bend in his nose.
Andrew has light blue eyes and Mark has brown eyes, with brown hair. All three of them are staring at me, not below my chin. Oddest thing, they are looking above my eyes so either they are staring at my eyebrows or hair. Wave my hands in front of their faces a few times to get blinks then we get to what we are supposed to be doing.
We talk music, or rather our lack of having any. Since they have decided we will have a new direction in our music and no actual recording contract we got two weeks to come up with fresh music. On the one hand this is good for me, I'll be in on the writing of our songs and I won't have to learn what we have done already.
Course on the other hand, that means I have to be in close contact with the guys. Two weeks we have a concert of sorts, nothing all that major at least. We are not going to be playing in a packed stadium, we got a gig in a bar. Course at this point it's not really a bar anymore, it's where the up and coming bands play which I guess we are.
So want to ask how exactly we ended up with that gig missing a bassist. Also not sure I want to know. I mean generally shit like this falling in your lap is either lots of getting on your knees and blowing people or being related to one of the people you would blow. The best part of it is simply there are two choices on the basis of a song to be written, bass or drum.
Mark suggests bass, Woody frowns for a second then nods so I'm the basis for our songs. The first one is again with the angry. Paul has come back and there is a recorder so he sets up the recorder and I close my eyes. Finding the right spot again I bring down the pick and play. They let me go for almost seven minutes before I get unplugged.
"You know fuck it's going to be hard to come up with lyrics for this." I think we all stare at Mark, I do at least, Woody is off to the side and it's not well lit in here.
"Well fuck man, you said angry so she found angry. You are the one saying you can do lyrics and shit." This from Andrew getting Mark to round on him.
"Fucking hell man, like I'm the only one here able to put a sentence together." Andrew and Mark get closer together with frowns.
I would pay attention to what they are saying if Woody doesn't wave his hand. So I leave them to their argument, with Paul, and head for Woody. He has a grin on his lips so I give him a small smile, honestly I'm rather glad to not be in the middle of the argument.
"While the clowns argue, what do you think about when you play like that?" I sigh and shake my head.
"Not sharing that, mostly it's just a matter of finding something to be mad about, letting the feeling fill me up, and let it out through the pick and fingers." Woody snorts and nods.
"I do the same thing, though I got sticks. Alright so not specifics, but what pisses you off?" Think about that for a second.
"Well the economy sucks, environment is taking a nose dive. I mean fuck man just looking outside and the sky isn't blue anymore. Let's see, cops don't have enough people, yet they are not getting more." Woody waves his hand.
"Little closer to home." Frown since well the cops thing is pretty darn close to home, though there are other things.
"Well driving is pretty darn shitty, I mean nobody seems to actually know how. Cell phones plastered to an ear while they are driving. Not to mention people falling asleep while driving so end up dead with others." Woody snorts and nods.
