Post by Should Sign In on May 31, 2008 1:50:52 GMT -5
“You’ve been great, but this’ll be our last song.”
The chorus of ‘aww’s that echoed across the crowd, made Kami’s heart lift. Her pulse quickened a little, the familiar numb bliss reaching through her – this was why she loved performing. Her dark ensemble was comprised of a too-tight-for-her-liking silver-embroidered black tank-top. Several odd ribbon-y things bound the back even tighter, their blood-red stark against the neutral black.
Buckles and leather straps bit into her arms – though she hardly noticed it – and a pair of fingerless gloves clung to her slightly sweaty palms. Her jeans did nothing to hide her narrow hips and long legs, and she hated the stupid outfit. Or rather, some part of her did. Most of her didn’t care. Another part of her reveled in it in a way that should have disgusted her.
She waited for the opening notes of their next, and final, song to play, but they didn’t come. Instead, [insertnamehere] plucked the mic from her hand, lifting it to his mouth.
“But, before our swan-song, we’ve got a request,” [insertnamehere] breathed heavily into the mic, his eyes glittering amusedly.
Kami shot him an inconspicuous look, clearly puzzled and annoyed by his words.
“C’mon up little lady,” he cried with his usual enthusiasm and cheek.
Kami stared blankly – and she knew she looked like a complete moron to the crowd, but it didn’t matter – as Fiona emerged from the mosh. Kami barely heard the thud of Fiona’s feet against the stairs as she half-scrambled up on stage. Her hair was pulled back at the temples, fastened at the back of her head with an intricate little clip. The rest of her surprisingly long strawberry-blonde curls pouring like honey over her shoulders.
Her eyes wouldn’t meet Kami’s, but they were glimmering in the stage-lights, set in a nervous, pretty-featured face. She licked her slightly bruised lips and took the mic from [insertnamehere], still not looking at Kami.
“Hey,” Fiona’s voice cracked a little, and she flushed, the delicious colour rising in her cheeks and bleeding down her neck, past the white, bell-sleeved shirt she wore. “Um. T-this song’s for… someone who ran away and wouldn’t tell me why.”
Kami couldn’t stop staring, and it wasn’t because Fiona was wearing those oh-so-tight black jeans with the butterfly across the arse – it was because Fiona was going to sing. Fiona didn’t sing, she refused to despite Kami insisting she had a good voice – she was too shy about expressing her creativity for that.
The opening chords played, silencing the crowd’s disgruntled mutters – and several jealous cries. Kami knew the song after only moments.
It was a song from about twenty years ago – no, more. It was at least two or three decades old, but it was a good one, one Kami had stumbled across not too long ago.
Fiona’s voice was sweeter than her own, but not as strong or trained. It was clear she hadn’t sung properly in quite a while, and was out of practice. She wasn’t a brilliant singer, really, but it was a nice voice.
“Don’t get me wrong, I cannot wait until you come ho-ome,” Fiona brought the mic in a little closer, increasing the power of her voice. “For now you’re not here, and I’m not there, it’s like we’re on our own.”
The nervousness was clear in her voice, but the crowd was listening, hearing the heart she was slowly allowing to seep into the lyrics.
“To figure it out, consider how to find a place to stand, instead of walking away and instead of nowhere to land.”
Kami held up a hand, half-turning to [insertnamehere2], who got the idea and threw her his microphone. She caught it and waited for her moment.
“This is going to break me clean in two,” Fiona’s eyes had closed, and so she hadn’t seen the mic-exchange. “This is going to bring me close to yo-ou.
“She is everything I need that I never knew I want-ed.”
“She is everything I want that I never knew I needed,” Kami broke in, her own, deeper, rougher voice contrasting and accenting Fiona’s softer, shyer one.
The fairer of them started a little, freezing up. That was okay, Kami could cover for her – caught skipping class to be with Conan, panicky and pale-faced, ashamed. ‘Help me.’ – just like always.
“It’s all up in the air and we stand still, just to see what comes back down.”
The crowd was almost silent for them – or maybe Kami just couldn’t hear them for Fiona’s voice. Sweet, uncertain voice that rang like a tiny old bell.
“I don't know where it is, I don't know when, but I want you around,” Fiona picked up again, sounding more confident now – was it just Kami, or was there extra certainty added to that last line?
“When it falls in place with you and I, we go from if to when. Your side and mine are both behind it’s indication.
“This going to bring me clarity.”
Kami stole the next line. Her eyes darkened and became unreadable.
“This’ll take the heart right out of me.”
Fiona gripped the microphone harder, her own heart feeling as thought it wanted to tear itself from her chest. Kami had sung so honestly for that line.
“She is everything I need that I never knew I want-ed,” Fiona sang firmly, glancing at Kami.
“She is everything I want that I never knew I needed.” Fiona continued to sing, Kami subconsciously – or hadn’t it been even that? Was it just naturally? – harmonized with her.
Their voices lay over one another. Kami’s was distinctly stronger, smoother, but somehow rougher – like a towel. Fiona almost laughed at her rather crappy metaphor – admittedly, the bubbles of maniacal laughter bubbling in her throat were due to nerves and incredulity – but managed to get through the next line.
“She is everything I need that I never knew I wanted.”
Fiona faltered, but Kami – or was she Melani? The two people were becoming harder and harder to discern – paid it no mind. Her voice made up for it, weaving through the music of the instruments with expert easy. It was clear that Sanctuary had practiced together many times.
“She is everything I want that I never knew I needed.”
There was emphasis on the last five words, and Kami raised her voice another notch, really belting out the lyrics, her whole heart behind it. The bitterness was almost tangible, the hope so frayed and weak that Fiona felt guilty.
“This is going to bring me to my knees.”
Kami’s voice drowned Fiona’s weaker one in that line.
“I just wanna hold you close to me.”
Fiona was almost speaking, she was singing so defiantly for that line – she was short of breath now too, which didn’t help too much. How the hell did Kami do it?
As the bridge granted them a break, Kami hissed at her, tilting the mic away from her so that their words were private – buried under the powerful, joyous chords and notes.
“What are you doing?”
“Telling the world about an epiphany I had.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing…”
“I know what I want.”
Kami opened her mouth to growl out another reply, but the music began to culminate, opening the song up for their voices again.
“She is everything I need that I never knew I wanted.
“She is everything I want that I never knew I needed.
“She is everything I need that I never knew I wanted.
“She is everything I want that I never knew I wanted.”
Melani knew to break off there, let Fiona sing the next line. Something inside her, some natural instinct, knew that it was Fiona’s line.
“She is everything… I needed.”
The last line was undeniably Kami’s, somehow, Fiona knew that. Fiona let her voice trail off, Kami’s lowering and softening, becoming almost whimsical.
“She is everything…”
-
Later, Fiona drove home – Kami had practically fled the stage, her face shadowed and expression stoic. Her nails, which weren’t too terribly long, had been biting into her palm, Fiona could see that, there were tiny rivulets of blood oozing between her long fingers.
Fiona had followed her back-stage, but had been met with a door slammed in her face and an apologetic look from [insertnamehere]. By the time she reached her car, she was a mess – black smudges around her eyes and bleeding down her cheeks, red-eyed and fighting a battle against mucus.
It was, frankly, a miracle she’d made it home without crashing. She wasn’t entirely sure why it hurt so much – after all, she’d actually been scared that Kami would grab her right there on stage and kiss her. She wasn’t sure, despite her words, that she really wanted this. Girls and women had never interested her like that, it had always been boys and men. Kami was… she was different… wasn’t she?
Kami wanted her, didn’t she? She’d been running continually to escape, all because she didn’t want to go through the pain of rejection. Why was she running now, when she could have what she wanted.
Why was Fiona offering it to her?
Water seared her skin, first icy, then hot far too quickly. Steam fogged up the mirror, and Fiona was glad she didn’t have to see herself. She felt like something disgusting. What the fuck had she been thinking? That Kami would sweep her off her feet and everything would be perfect? Probably – God knows that her last few relationships had fallen short of her expectations.
She’d learned not to expect too much.
She’d done what she always did with Kami – no, what she always did with Melani. She’d expected her to be everything Fiona needed. Melani had always been that, always been everything she needed whenever she needed it – why was this any different?
A shot of pain raced through her as she realised something. Did she even want Kami? Or did she just want something that wouldn’t let her down? Something that would be safe, constant?
Did she want Melani back?
Another pain flooded her as she slammed her head against the shower tiles. Her vision went black for a moment, and her limbs felt weak – but then it all came back, along with a throbbing, uncomfortable pain in her head.
Would that be her life if she and Melani/Kami were together? A blissful blank out, perfectly safe, but painfully temporary? Would it all come back, all the pain, the yearning, but tenfold?
She smashed her head into the wall again, but this time there was only pain.
-
She had been sitting on her lounge, wrapped in blankets and swamped with pillows for about half an hour before she fell asleep. When she awoke, the clock told her she’d been putting a crick in her back for three hours – it was about two in the morning. It took a minute or two for her to register that the weird knocking sound wasn’t her boss thumping the inside of a piano she’d trapped him in.
The knocking sound was someone at the front door. At two in the morning.
Fiona felt like death warmed over – with a bitch of a headache – as she tumbled her way out of the blanket cocoon she’d created.
“What?!” she snapped, pulling the door open a bit too hard.
Or, rather, she tried to snap – her throat was raw and sleepy, and it came out more of a croak. Part of the reason it became a croak was the look on Kami/Melani’s face.
The darker woman half raised a bandaged hand, but let it fall back to her side, indecisive.
“What?” Fiona asked more softly, shifting and rubbing her bare arms as the chill of the outside air reached her.
“Can… can I come in?” Kami questioned, tossing her head.
Fiona was tempted to say no, too tired, confused and scared to deal with Kami – but she didn’t. She never had been able to refuse Melani anything – a pang went through her as she wondered whether she only wanted Melani – Kami – because of that record.
In the end, she didn’t say anything, just stepped aside so that Kami, clad in a loose black tee, a pair of scuffed boots, and khaki cargo-pants, could enter.
She did so hesitantly, pausing at the pool of light that seemed to mark its own threshold.
The chorus of ‘aww’s that echoed across the crowd, made Kami’s heart lift. Her pulse quickened a little, the familiar numb bliss reaching through her – this was why she loved performing. Her dark ensemble was comprised of a too-tight-for-her-liking silver-embroidered black tank-top. Several odd ribbon-y things bound the back even tighter, their blood-red stark against the neutral black.
Buckles and leather straps bit into her arms – though she hardly noticed it – and a pair of fingerless gloves clung to her slightly sweaty palms. Her jeans did nothing to hide her narrow hips and long legs, and she hated the stupid outfit. Or rather, some part of her did. Most of her didn’t care. Another part of her reveled in it in a way that should have disgusted her.
She waited for the opening notes of their next, and final, song to play, but they didn’t come. Instead, [insertnamehere] plucked the mic from her hand, lifting it to his mouth.
“But, before our swan-song, we’ve got a request,” [insertnamehere] breathed heavily into the mic, his eyes glittering amusedly.
Kami shot him an inconspicuous look, clearly puzzled and annoyed by his words.
“C’mon up little lady,” he cried with his usual enthusiasm and cheek.
Kami stared blankly – and she knew she looked like a complete moron to the crowd, but it didn’t matter – as Fiona emerged from the mosh. Kami barely heard the thud of Fiona’s feet against the stairs as she half-scrambled up on stage. Her hair was pulled back at the temples, fastened at the back of her head with an intricate little clip. The rest of her surprisingly long strawberry-blonde curls pouring like honey over her shoulders.
Her eyes wouldn’t meet Kami’s, but they were glimmering in the stage-lights, set in a nervous, pretty-featured face. She licked her slightly bruised lips and took the mic from [insertnamehere], still not looking at Kami.
“Hey,” Fiona’s voice cracked a little, and she flushed, the delicious colour rising in her cheeks and bleeding down her neck, past the white, bell-sleeved shirt she wore. “Um. T-this song’s for… someone who ran away and wouldn’t tell me why.”
Kami couldn’t stop staring, and it wasn’t because Fiona was wearing those oh-so-tight black jeans with the butterfly across the arse – it was because Fiona was going to sing. Fiona didn’t sing, she refused to despite Kami insisting she had a good voice – she was too shy about expressing her creativity for that.
The opening chords played, silencing the crowd’s disgruntled mutters – and several jealous cries. Kami knew the song after only moments.
It was a song from about twenty years ago – no, more. It was at least two or three decades old, but it was a good one, one Kami had stumbled across not too long ago.
Fiona’s voice was sweeter than her own, but not as strong or trained. It was clear she hadn’t sung properly in quite a while, and was out of practice. She wasn’t a brilliant singer, really, but it was a nice voice.
“Don’t get me wrong, I cannot wait until you come ho-ome,” Fiona brought the mic in a little closer, increasing the power of her voice. “For now you’re not here, and I’m not there, it’s like we’re on our own.”
The nervousness was clear in her voice, but the crowd was listening, hearing the heart she was slowly allowing to seep into the lyrics.
“To figure it out, consider how to find a place to stand, instead of walking away and instead of nowhere to land.”
Kami held up a hand, half-turning to [insertnamehere2], who got the idea and threw her his microphone. She caught it and waited for her moment.
“This is going to break me clean in two,” Fiona’s eyes had closed, and so she hadn’t seen the mic-exchange. “This is going to bring me close to yo-ou.
“She is everything I need that I never knew I want-ed.”
“She is everything I want that I never knew I needed,” Kami broke in, her own, deeper, rougher voice contrasting and accenting Fiona’s softer, shyer one.
The fairer of them started a little, freezing up. That was okay, Kami could cover for her – caught skipping class to be with Conan, panicky and pale-faced, ashamed. ‘Help me.’ – just like always.
“It’s all up in the air and we stand still, just to see what comes back down.”
The crowd was almost silent for them – or maybe Kami just couldn’t hear them for Fiona’s voice. Sweet, uncertain voice that rang like a tiny old bell.
“I don't know where it is, I don't know when, but I want you around,” Fiona picked up again, sounding more confident now – was it just Kami, or was there extra certainty added to that last line?
“When it falls in place with you and I, we go from if to when. Your side and mine are both behind it’s indication.
“This going to bring me clarity.”
Kami stole the next line. Her eyes darkened and became unreadable.
“This’ll take the heart right out of me.”
Fiona gripped the microphone harder, her own heart feeling as thought it wanted to tear itself from her chest. Kami had sung so honestly for that line.
“She is everything I need that I never knew I want-ed,” Fiona sang firmly, glancing at Kami.
“She is everything I want that I never knew I needed.” Fiona continued to sing, Kami subconsciously – or hadn’t it been even that? Was it just naturally? – harmonized with her.
Their voices lay over one another. Kami’s was distinctly stronger, smoother, but somehow rougher – like a towel. Fiona almost laughed at her rather crappy metaphor – admittedly, the bubbles of maniacal laughter bubbling in her throat were due to nerves and incredulity – but managed to get through the next line.
“She is everything I need that I never knew I wanted.”
Fiona faltered, but Kami – or was she Melani? The two people were becoming harder and harder to discern – paid it no mind. Her voice made up for it, weaving through the music of the instruments with expert easy. It was clear that Sanctuary had practiced together many times.
“She is everything I want that I never knew I needed.”
There was emphasis on the last five words, and Kami raised her voice another notch, really belting out the lyrics, her whole heart behind it. The bitterness was almost tangible, the hope so frayed and weak that Fiona felt guilty.
“This is going to bring me to my knees.”
Kami’s voice drowned Fiona’s weaker one in that line.
“I just wanna hold you close to me.”
Fiona was almost speaking, she was singing so defiantly for that line – she was short of breath now too, which didn’t help too much. How the hell did Kami do it?
As the bridge granted them a break, Kami hissed at her, tilting the mic away from her so that their words were private – buried under the powerful, joyous chords and notes.
“What are you doing?”
“Telling the world about an epiphany I had.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing…”
“I know what I want.”
Kami opened her mouth to growl out another reply, but the music began to culminate, opening the song up for their voices again.
“She is everything I need that I never knew I wanted.
“She is everything I want that I never knew I needed.
“She is everything I need that I never knew I wanted.
“She is everything I want that I never knew I wanted.”
Melani knew to break off there, let Fiona sing the next line. Something inside her, some natural instinct, knew that it was Fiona’s line.
“She is everything… I needed.”
The last line was undeniably Kami’s, somehow, Fiona knew that. Fiona let her voice trail off, Kami’s lowering and softening, becoming almost whimsical.
“She is everything…”
-
Later, Fiona drove home – Kami had practically fled the stage, her face shadowed and expression stoic. Her nails, which weren’t too terribly long, had been biting into her palm, Fiona could see that, there were tiny rivulets of blood oozing between her long fingers.
Fiona had followed her back-stage, but had been met with a door slammed in her face and an apologetic look from [insertnamehere]. By the time she reached her car, she was a mess – black smudges around her eyes and bleeding down her cheeks, red-eyed and fighting a battle against mucus.
It was, frankly, a miracle she’d made it home without crashing. She wasn’t entirely sure why it hurt so much – after all, she’d actually been scared that Kami would grab her right there on stage and kiss her. She wasn’t sure, despite her words, that she really wanted this. Girls and women had never interested her like that, it had always been boys and men. Kami was… she was different… wasn’t she?
Kami wanted her, didn’t she? She’d been running continually to escape, all because she didn’t want to go through the pain of rejection. Why was she running now, when she could have what she wanted.
Why was Fiona offering it to her?
Water seared her skin, first icy, then hot far too quickly. Steam fogged up the mirror, and Fiona was glad she didn’t have to see herself. She felt like something disgusting. What the fuck had she been thinking? That Kami would sweep her off her feet and everything would be perfect? Probably – God knows that her last few relationships had fallen short of her expectations.
She’d learned not to expect too much.
She’d done what she always did with Kami – no, what she always did with Melani. She’d expected her to be everything Fiona needed. Melani had always been that, always been everything she needed whenever she needed it – why was this any different?
A shot of pain raced through her as she realised something. Did she even want Kami? Or did she just want something that wouldn’t let her down? Something that would be safe, constant?
Did she want Melani back?
Another pain flooded her as she slammed her head against the shower tiles. Her vision went black for a moment, and her limbs felt weak – but then it all came back, along with a throbbing, uncomfortable pain in her head.
Would that be her life if she and Melani/Kami were together? A blissful blank out, perfectly safe, but painfully temporary? Would it all come back, all the pain, the yearning, but tenfold?
She smashed her head into the wall again, but this time there was only pain.
-
She had been sitting on her lounge, wrapped in blankets and swamped with pillows for about half an hour before she fell asleep. When she awoke, the clock told her she’d been putting a crick in her back for three hours – it was about two in the morning. It took a minute or two for her to register that the weird knocking sound wasn’t her boss thumping the inside of a piano she’d trapped him in.
The knocking sound was someone at the front door. At two in the morning.
Fiona felt like death warmed over – with a bitch of a headache – as she tumbled her way out of the blanket cocoon she’d created.
“What?!” she snapped, pulling the door open a bit too hard.
Or, rather, she tried to snap – her throat was raw and sleepy, and it came out more of a croak. Part of the reason it became a croak was the look on Kami/Melani’s face.
The darker woman half raised a bandaged hand, but let it fall back to her side, indecisive.
“What?” Fiona asked more softly, shifting and rubbing her bare arms as the chill of the outside air reached her.
“Can… can I come in?” Kami questioned, tossing her head.
Fiona was tempted to say no, too tired, confused and scared to deal with Kami – but she didn’t. She never had been able to refuse Melani anything – a pang went through her as she wondered whether she only wanted Melani – Kami – because of that record.
In the end, she didn’t say anything, just stepped aside so that Kami, clad in a loose black tee, a pair of scuffed boots, and khaki cargo-pants, could enter.
She did so hesitantly, pausing at the pool of light that seemed to mark its own threshold.