“It’s nice,” I admitted. “Thanks, kid.”
When Bea started dating her a year ago, I felt supplanted. Now, I loved Alicia’s wit and don’t-give-a-fuck-ness. She just lived her life. When they invited me to sub for a sick guitarist, I knew I’d have fun.
“Here, let’s fix your makeup,” Alicia sorted through my makeup bag. “Don’t you have anything sparkly?”
“Why?” I laughed. “I haven’t been performing drag on the side, Li.”
“Well, I got you,” Alicia smeared on a dark and purple holo shimmer eyeshadow. “You’re gorgeous. Your brown eyes look great with the right makeup. I’ll give you some ideas.”
I faced myself and smiled. “Yeah, thanks, Alicia, that’s fucking amazing. My mother will hate it.”
Bea giggled. “Yeah, but how do you feel?”
“Myself,” I agreed. “In the most surprising way.”
* * *
BETTY
“What’s that?” I stopped on a street in Soho.
My friend Jaz looked back. “What?”
“The music? It’s like… amazing.” I nodded toward a downstairs club, locking eyes with the bouncer.
“We need to meet Jenny in like an hour,” Jaz groaned.
“Sure,” I said. “But we could watch their set at least.”
“I only have enough for like two drinks and cover,” she protested.
“Yeah, okay. But I’ve got you,boo,” I offered.
I paid two twenties for cover and followed Jaz downstairs. We came face-to-face with the band. I stopped dead as the guitarist with an edgy, short haircut soloed with gusto. She was completely in the moment. Her licks sent shivers down my spine. I wasn’t a music person, but it was something about her presence that got me.
“I want a drink,” Jaz shouted as the chorus picked up. “You want something?”
“No, I’m good,” I was unable to turn.
I watched—mesmerized not by the singer, but by her lead guitarist. I couldn’t describe their sound beyond ‘alt-rock’, but I was sure I didn’t care. They were dynamite. What struck me was how fun it all looked.
To my dismay, the singer announced, “Thank you all! We’re Wet Hat and this is our last song. We’re going to play ‘Make it’ for you all before we get out of here.”
Wet Hat?The name was weird but delightful. I spotted Jaz crossing back, the crowd whooping it up.
“I guess their supporters turned out,” she said as the guitarist and bassist began.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But I have a feeling they are going somewhere. I like their sound.”
“Since when do you give a shit about music?” Jaz giggled.
“I care about it!” I smacked her arm. “We’re being rude!”
I stared as the guitarist investigated the crowd. I knew she couldn’t see me past the lighting setup, but I pretended she did. In my make-believe land, we locked eyes and she sang to me while laying down background vocals about surviving a setback.
I blushed as another shiver traversed my spine. She wasa woman. I never had feelings like this for a woman, right? But here I was mooning over her. I beat it down and told myself I had a girl crush, that it was just her talent that spoke to me. I was coming off a breakup and wanted to feel something, right?
“Thank you, London! We love you!” The singer ended as their final chord vibrated.
