Inspired by last friday's post by Ryan, about the Go-Go's...
the adrenaline--no drug has ever given me a high like this.
the hot lights.
the screaming fans.
and it's all for me.
i play my heart out for them--
serenading them with my husky, sexy voice.
i was born to be a rock star, and here i am.
sometimes i still can't believe it's real.
leather pants are less comfortable than i'd imagined, but i don't care.
i chug down a beer and switch keys...
they're going crazy, my fans.
this is my biggest hit.
my first hit, three years ago.
everyone knows every word.
they stomp and chant and crowd surf.
throwing flowers, teddy bears...love letters, naked pictures...
the men and the women.
belting out this last song, i notice somene...
a tall blonde man who has just pushed through to the front row.
he's the one.
the one i'll drag back to my bus tonight.
he has the look.
i can never tell who it's going to be, what will draw me to him.
i sing this song for him, to him.
i pass a guitar pick to him, touching his hand...
his jaw drops.
we finish the set, do an encore.
the lights go out and i run back stage.
i let out a mighty howl, a joyful cry of victory.
that was a great show, my drummer says, patting my ass.
we do kick ass, don't we? i smile back at him.
i am stripping already, as i head for the shower.
peeling that leather off like a layer of skin.
the other girls, my guitarist and basist, make cat calls as i disappear into the shower.
the party is in full swing when i finish my bathing and dressing routine.
there are more beautiful people milling around than i can take in at a glance.
which one first?
the talking stops for a moment as i step into the room.
i am handed a drink, a smoke...
and i begin to browse the evening's selection...
the girls have picked out a few especially pretty ones for me...
as i head to the back with them, i whisper to my drummer to find that blond for me.
for talking all night and slow sweet sex.
then i turn back to appraise my immediate playmates.
the one with his arm snaked around my waist looks like a calvin klein underwear model.
chiseled, head to toe, dark perfect hair...a bit too perfect, but something sexy about his lack of cockiness.
and to my left...
a leggy blonde with gorgeous breasts.
and the other.
just the kind of boy i used to go crazy for, in the old days.
and still my favorite.
he would be first.
i step out of the other one's grasp and grab this beautiful boy by the shoulders.
he is startled, smiling.
i run my fingers through his gorgeous hair, and slide them under his shirt, up.
we tumble to the nearest couch and i unleash all my pent up energy from the stage on this sweet one.
as i grind myself into him i ask if he has a demo.
it's in the pocket of his discarded suede jacket.
i toss it to a lurking stage hand who is eagerly watching.
when he's done, i kiss him one last time and promise to listen to his cd.
he's stammering his thanks as i grab the girl.
we kiss, i grope her tits like a trucker in a seedy bar, then i toss her aside for the calvin klein Ken doll.
he's as ready as i am and i clear the room with a word.
i can tell he'll keep me busy for a while.
when the raging party is over and my adrenaline has receded to a normal level, i head to the bus, a thrill running through me at the thought of meeting this one.
he had a look of depth, intelligence, seriousness...and, of course, beauty.
i call this last lover of the day my night cap...the one to hold me through til morning.
sometimes i choose wrong, and am disappointed.
not this time.
this time he is exactly right.
he is my boyfriend, best friend, husband--of the day.
the one to hold my hand and listen to my dreams and tell me stories, make me laugh.
i once imagined that one of these night caps would be the last...
that he would turn into more than just a night cap.
maybe this time...