Summary: An email message, from the POV of someone Lestat seduces for a Little Drink, to her bandmates. Not to worry, Kelly (this OC) stops here. Unless, of course, you ask for more...
To the girls of the Cuticles from Hell:
I wanted to tell you smtg that happened a week ago, right after our last show. This is why I've been off the grid to the point of missing two band practices, which I know is terrible lead singer behavior, but I will definitely be meeting up with you tonight at 8 sharp, it's just easier to explain this like this.
So y'know that Devastatingly Hot Guy we've been seeing in the audience for the past month or so? The guy that sort of looks and dresses like David Bowie from the 80's? So I was kinda sad that I didn't see him in the crowd that night, but after our last song, when I'd put my gear away, he caught me on my way over to the bar! I'm not sure if you saw us at all, I think you had all left out the back already.
Ok, so he's hot from a distance but he's a whole 'nother thing up close!! I was super grateful that I'd worn my wedge platforms bc he's gotta be 6 ft tall, and the extra 7 inches made us almost eye-to-eye. He was telling me how impressed he was with my vocal range, my piercings, and my style in general, and he let me push his shades up over his hair so I could see his eyes for the first time. They're a pale blue, maybe a misty gray, hard to tell, tho, because Snow White Trash was already starting in on their first song, and you know how they love using pink and purple spotlights, so it made Hot Guy's eyes and platinum blond hair catch the pink and purple, which looked fabulous, and I told him so.
BTW, touching his hair was practically a religious experience, you guys. He let me pet it, it's silky and thick, I got a little bolder and combed my fingers through it, and he got all quiet and smiled at me in the sweetest way, like no one had touched him like that in forever and he was so grateful omg... he kissed a few of my fingertips like real gentlemen do, in those movies on Turner Classic that my mom has on 24/7.
Then we were dancing slowly to Snow White Trash, and this guy must have had professional dance training because he was holding me by one hand, spinning me out, away from him, and then with a little tug, reeling me back in tight against him, to dip me in the most adorable old-timey way. I didn't even mind that this twirling ended up flashing my undies at people a few times, everybody's cool at that bar and anyway Hot Guy let me know that he was protecting me from the douchebags all night.
He asked why I was wearing a scarf in such heat, whether it was for fashion, and I let him pull it down and open it as he asked, revealing that awful tatt I got of Darien's name.
“Yeah I wear a scarf all the time now, I can't afford to get my ex lasered off and my tattoo guy says a coverup will just make it worse.“
He frowned at this and ran an icy thumb along the name. “You know, it's very similar to the phrase, “de rien” in French, which means, 'it's nothing,'”
“Well how perfect is that? Because that's what he means to me now. Nothing.”
His thumb slid back and forth, tracing the lettering there, and I wondered whether Hot Guy knew the affect he was having touching my neck like that... I'm so sensitive there that Darien had been wildly turned on when I got his name tattooed on; the needle there kept making me very um, excited, sensually, as I think I already told you guys at some point last year.
Then we were in that back booth with the ripped leather, and there was a half-full glass of icewater in front of him. He took a cube from it and after asking if he could, ran it along my neck, pleasingly, focusing on the still-empty skin on the left side. It was incredibly refreshing on such a hot night, especially bc I'd been wearing that damned scarf all through our set. And you know Chris's never gonna fix the stupid AC in that bar, bc it's too damn expensive.
He leaned in as if to whisper smtg in my ear and I waited for that, straining to hear him under the music, but instead he was kissing my iced neck. And then, remember the first time I got my ears pierced when I was 12, Lindsay? You were there with me? And they said it would hurt only for an instant, and I was so scared, but you held my hands and they were right, it was only for a moment and then I was back in the bar, only sweetness as Hot Guy held me to him with one arm, giving me the hickey of a lifetime. Just waves of love and sweetness and I trusted him, believed in the wholesomeness, how natural and good it was to love someone and be loved in return, this feeling like... this time in this dingy little booth, feeling his lips on my neck, just stroking his hair again, it was better than anything I'd ever felt with Darien before, Darien was the flimsiest imitation of this, this is what I've needed, and the best part of it was that Hot Guy was looking for me all along, he needed me, too.
Then we were back at the bar, my hands on the sticky counter, and Lestat was propping me up like a doll on one of the bar stools, asking if I was alright. I nodded and he put a coke in my hand, with cherries, just the way I like! How did he know I love cherries?! How did I know his name? I didn't remember asking for it but I knew it and I knew how to spell it.
“It was lovely to meet you, cher, here's the number of a great friend of mine, Brian, who's a genius at getting shit done, and done right. He'll take care of finding a good doctor and will cover all the costs involved. Let him know when you want to get Mr. Nothing removed from your pretty neck.”
He kissed my hand again, hard, like a superhero, and I could have cried, you guys. I couldn't answer but I was starting to cry a little as I nodded, because he was letting go and disappearing into the crowd, into the night.
So I've been home for a week recovering from the first round of laser treatments and writing new music like crazy, and if Lestat comes around again, I want you to know, in the words of the illustrious Brandy & Monica, The Boy is Mine!