Bullet (56 page)

Brad kept us booked.  We were becoming recognized locally and so we started earning more money as the venues figured we were actually drawing crowds.  And then I t
hought back to Brad’s lecture to our bandmates last spring, where he asked them to contribute somehow.  I wondered how, aside from writing, singing, and working another job I was contributing to our success as a band.  More than that, I wondered how I could do more.

After pondering the thought for several days, I hit on what I thought was gold.  In a profession filled mostly with boys (that of heavy metal music), I decided to play up on the difference. 
My singing would earn me respect.  But my plan would get me noticed.

I had a little money tucked away and decided to use it to go shopping.  I spent my money in lingerie shops this time.  I knew we had a few female fans
, and I hoped my new image wouldn’t offend them, but I hoped to win the admiration of the males.  I was going to show some skin.  I was twenty now, what I thought of as almost fully legal, and I had grown into feeling okay with my body.  I bought camisoles, bustiers, and a red panty and bra set with a garter belt.  I also bought some of the tallest, shiniest black boots I’d ever seen in my life.  I was going to sell my sex appeal, and I didn’t plan to tell the guys till I was ready.  I also got a three-month membership at a local gym.  I paid for two sessions with a trainer, because—even though I wasn’t a chubby teenager anymore—I wanted to look solid.

I got another tattoo as well, this one on my lower back—not a tramp stamp.  It was smaller.  I got a three-dimensional red heart on my right hip.  I also got my ears pierced twice more and an eyebrow piercing.  Three days later at our next show, I decided to unveil my new look.  I hadn’t even let the guys know what I was doing.  I’d also bought a used trench coat, and I was glad it had been raining that cool October morning.  No one suspected I was hardly wearing anything underneath.  And then I realized this look would only work in warmer weather or indoor venues.  Fortunately, the first show was in an indoor theater where we’d played before.

While we were setting up our equipment, Brad said, “Val, you’d have an easier time with your coat off.  Are you still cold?”  I just smiled and said nothing.  I wanted to work it to my advantage.

Before it was time to go on, I asked the guys if they would start playing and let me walk on after they’d started.  Ethan asked, “Why?”

“I want to try something new.”

“You’re not
gonna ditch out on us, are you?”

“No, of course not.  Just
trust me.”

This was also going to be the first show where we played Brad’s new song.  Like with all our other songs, I wrote lyrics and the guys added to it, but it was still Brad’s baby.  We wound up calling it “Primeval
,” and we were opening the act with it.  There was a thirty-second lead in, long enough for me to take the trench coat off and inhale a deep breath, getting up the gumption to go through with it.

My mind raced.  What the fuck had I done?  And I hadn’t just eased into it.  Oh, no.  I’d worn red heels with the panty, bra, and garter set.  I should’ve worn something a little
less revealing the first time.  Ah, well.  Why not?  At this point, though, I had to admit a drink would have been good.  Now I could halfway understand why the guys would sometimes have a drink or something harder before a show.  I figured it would take the edge off.

But I had to do it.  Ethan had already asked if I was going to bail, not even knowing what I’d planned.  I couldn’t let them down.  Time to grow a pair…a figurative one, of course.  One more deep breath
, and I strutted onstage to the mike stand.

Someone slipped and hit a wrong
note. 
Shit.
  If I had that effect on my own bandmates, then I knew the audience would love it.

And they did.  If I’d had any doubts, the screams, howls, and wolf whistles were all I needed as affirmation.  I didn’t want to acknowledge that they were doing exactly what I’d wanted them to do.  I still had to act tough, so I threw up the devil’s horns with both hands before grabbing the mike.

Holy shit.
  The energy of that show was amazing.  We were getting more electricity off our audience than ever, and it was so easy to throw it back at them.  And once my bandmates got over their initial shock, they fed on it too.  It was to that date one of our best shows ever.

After the show, I was asked for a
crazy amount of autographs.  I’d been asked once in a while before, but this time was above and beyond anything I’d ever experienced before.  I finally felt like I was earning my keep as their vocalist.

No one said a word, though, not until we were in the van.  I expected Brad to say something first, but it was Ethan who talked.  “What the hell inspired
that
shit, Val?”

I wasn’t going to play coy, as much as I wanted to.  I half turned in the seat and said, “The outfit?”

“Yeah.”  I could see his smile, even in the darkness.  “Not that any of us are complaining.”

I shrugged.  “I
dunno.  I just thought if I looked kinda sexy, it could only help us.”

Zane
said, “It worked.  I think half the audience had hard ons for most of the show.”

“Okay, I didn’t need
that
visual, Zane.  Thanks.”  Brad still hadn’t said a word.  I knew what that meant.  He hated it, but he hadn’t been able to find a diplomatic way to say it yet.  Nick…well, for
him
to not say anything was nothing unusual. “I guess I might as well warn you guys—there’s plenty more where this came from.”

“Jesus Christ.”  Ethan?  Ethan was going crazy.  He’d seen me naked.  He already knew what was underneath the lingerie, so why was
he acting like that?  “Please just tell me you don’t have any more garters.  My heart can’t take it.”

Zane
started laughing.  “I think I’m gonna ask Tanya to buy something like that.”  Oh…that told me Zane’s girlfriend was serious.  The fact that I was hearing the girl’s name was significant.

“Why don’t you b
uy it
for
her, stud?”

He laughed again.  “Wouldn’t she find it insulting if I bought her something and then asked her to wear it?  Like she’s not good enough on her own?”

“I dunno.  Why don’t you go shopping together?”

He considered it.  “That’s a great idea.”

We were all quiet for a few moments and then Brad was ready to talk.  “Val, I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but are you sure you want to go down this path?”

“What do you mean?”

I saw him shrug as he turned the steering wheel.  “There’s always a chance people won’t take you seriously.  They’ll think you’re just a cupcake.”

“A cupcake?”  I giggled.  “Why would they think that?  I sing and rock out.”

“I’m just sayin’.  It’s a chance you’re taking.”

“So what should I do, Brad?”  I turned a little in the chair again.  “Was it just me, or was the audience insane tonight?”

“You think that was all you?”

“You think I had nothing to do with it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Ethan—the one guy I didn’t expect to be on board with my sexy transformation—said, “Bradley, man…you know they were eating it up because of Valerie.  I know you don’t want to hear it, but she stole the show.  And goddamn.  If we get that
kinda reaction just ‘cause she’s showing a little skin, then I say we let her.”

Nick finally spoke up.  “I’m for it.”

“Me too.”

That left Brad as the odd man out.  I was pretty sure he was pissed, but he didn’t say a
nother word.  He just clenched his teeth together and kept driving.

That fall, the guys got used to the skimpier outfits and so did I.  I wasn’t so freaked out by it after a while.  And, as we started earning a little more money, I invested in more.  I bought short shorts and started doing different things with my hair.  And one of the times I was in the mall in a lingerie shop, the clerk showed me a schoolgirl outfit. 
It showed less, but I could unbutton it to show some cleavage.  The guys (except for Brad who refused to weigh in on any of my clothing choices) liked it too.

As winter neared, I was glad we didn’t have to play at any outdoor venues.  I’d been tempted to switch back to leather pants or jeans just during the coldest months but changed my mind every time I got onstage and got the reactions I was used to.  I
had
taken to wearing sweat pants to and from our apartment, though, just so my legs stayed warm.

Working out was starting to pay off too.  I saw definition in my upper arms and abdomen.  I wasn’t overdone by any means, but I’d obtained the hard body look I’d wanted.  And that was when I decided to get a tattoo on the top of my right breast—a small one of a gun to represent Fully Automatic.

We were playing a show in mid November, the first one we would be playing with Last Five Seconds since Clay and I had split.  I was feeling a little weird about it, but the fact was we’d parted friends.  And a small part of me was looking forward to seeing Clay.

We were up first, and LFS wasn’t even there yet.  It was a long show, four bands.  We were first and Clay and his guys were third. 
So, by the time we were done, I’d long forgotten about Clay.  Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but I wasn’t worried about him anymore.

We loaded all our stuff up like usual
, and then I slipped on a pair of jeans, leather jacket, and boots so I could watch the rest of the show.  When I was walking out of the women’s restroom, backpack in hand, I heard a voice behind me calling me by name.  I knew who it was before I saw his face.  “I see the rumors were true.”

I was smiling before I even turned around.  “Glad you’re still not believing everything you hear.”

Clay had a huge grin on his face.  “Val.  How the hell are you?”

I walked over and hugged him.  It just felt natural.  Oh, I’d forgotten how nice his body felt.  “I’m doing great.”

“So
what
the hell have you been doing?”  He tugged at my jacket…underneath I was wearing just a thin pink camisole.  “What inspired this?”

I shrugged.  “We need to stand out of the crowd, you know.  Just because we’re making good music doesn’t mean anything.  I mean…I look at all the other bands out there. 
So I asked myself what I could do to make an impression on our audience.”

“
You definitely did.  The buzz out there right now is insane.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.  Trust me—you’ve forced your audience to step up a notch.  I was out there.  I felt it.”

I was feeling like a bug under a microscope
, and I was pleasantly surprised, because I hadn’t thought Clay had seen our show.  “So what’s new with
you
, Clay?”

Oh, that smile was his happy smil
e, his truly contented and okay-with-the-world smile.  I’d hardly ever seen it, but I loved it.  “We’re pretty sure we’ve got a contract with a major label.”

“Yeah?  Which one?”

“I don’t wanna say…don’t wanna jinx it.  But we won’t know till next week.  I’ll tell you then.”

I nodded.  “Good luck.”

“You sticking around for the whole show?”

“I think so.  Got any new tunes?”

“Always.”

When I watched his band that night, I was impressed.  It had only been a few months since I’d seen them, but they were even better.  There was something…and it took me a while to figure out what it was.  They seemed more cohesive, more in tune with each other, like they hadn’t been on the same wavelength before and now they were.  They seemed to play almost intuitively, as though if one of them decided to veer off the worn path, the others would sense it and follow.  It was amazing to watch, and if I hadn’t seen them play together so much
before, I probably wouldn’t have even noticed.

After they played, Clay tracked me down in the audience.
  I’d never before seen the fourth band who was playing next, and they were good, but I thought they were having an off night.  Or maybe they just couldn’t hold a candle to Last Five Seconds.  So when Clay said in my ear, “Let’s go talk,” and he grabbed my hand, I agreed.

This particular venue had more backstage room than a lot of other places
we’d played, and we were actually able to find a couple of chairs.  We sat and talked for a long time.  He caught me up on what had been happening with LFS and what had led up to the possibility of recording a real album that would be in stores nationwide.

“Wow.  Sounds like it’s really
gonna happen.”

He grinned,
“I think it is, and if it does, I want you to know…if we have any influence—you know, any pull—not just you but a lot of other bands will come along for the ride.”

“That’s awesome, Clay, but you guys worry about
you
first.  I’m sure there’s a lot that’ll happen that neither of us have any clue about.”  I don’t know why I did, but I just grabbed his hand that had been resting on his thigh in my two smaller ones and squeezed.  Clay, one of the most genuine guys I’d ever met, and I felt like he needed a little extra support.  He was excited about what was coming…but he was nervous too.  I could tell.