ch8
By the time they had reached California, the band had been drained of all emotion. Gigi seemed the cheeriest of all of them, which Crystal harboured a lonely detest for. It was unfair how very okay she was, and how much Crystal struggled for sanity. Every night narrowed the same strange, dark alley of watching the girl she loved dying in a hospital. Images too vile to name haunted her and refused the let her rest. She was the one dying now, and Gigi was fine. She was fine walking off the bus into the California heat, fine throwing her jacket on the ground and fine lighting her own cigarette. She was as fine as fine people are.
“I know California’s going through a heat wave, but this is just something else.” She stated.
Monet smiled and leapt to the floor after her, letting dust arise her feet.
“The winds are going the other way”
The two developed an unlikely friendship, which lasted throughout the journey thus far. It was a true and unaltered testament to how Gigi could make anyone fall to her feet.
“California winds.” The taller girl smirked. “That sounds like a song. Heidi! Write in the book.”
“Write it yourself.” Heidi emerged struggling from the bedroom, large backpack strapped to her and water bottle clasped in hand. “The book was your stupid idea anyway.”
‘The book’ as it was so notoriously named was one of Gigi’s sudden 2am urges. She had awoken and rushed to the kitchen, empty diary in one hand, pen in the other. It was some sort of desperate grasp on the afterlife, knowing that whoever found Gigi after she had died, would find her with the book clutched to her chest. It would be known she was a lyrical genius. By the time Crystal found her, she had passed out on the couch with the book a strewn on the coffee table. It was a mess of ink spills, glue, and a little blood. Crystal could only snigger.
“There’s a lot of songs here.” She noted to Gigi’s sleeping body.
“hm?”
“Your book.” She held up the mess. “It’s almost full.”
“Yes.” The girl sleepily rolled over. “I’ve written a lot. It suspends me.”
“Are any of them about me?” Crystal asked, letting her heart slip irresponsibly from her head.
“No.” Gigi sighed, suddenly propping herself up on her elbow to turn the dial on her transistor radio. The room suddenly filled with a melodic resonance that lit a smile on the girl’s face and demanded her face back into the pillow. “None of them are about you. I don’t want to write a song about you, I want to write a song that is as beautiful as you are. No song is that beautiful. I know I’ll be writing until the day I die.”
Crystal’s face lit the dark room. It was if flowers were blooming in her very soul.
“Sometimes, I think you could make me fall in love with you again.”
“It’s why I write.” Gigi rolled over.
Crystal left that evening with a deep want inside her. It was a want she knew only Gigi could fill. It was a want that left her wanting to everything Gigi touched, everything she encountered, everything that was part of her. And now it was the day that was going to give Gigi everything she ever wanted. It would appear as if Crystal was no longer one of those things.
It was this sequence of heartbreak and melodrama that walked Crystal ten feet behind Gigi, dreaming of touching her hand in the warm California heat. She thought of Paris once more, and how it would never happen. A barren landscape of thought where her heart could wander, but she would never really be a part of again.
“I can’t believe you’re still here.” Monet whispered, falling behind the group.
“I feel like I was on the adventure of a lifetime.” She sighed. “And it went to shit for me.”
It came to Crystal suddenly that the adventure was not the tour, but rather Gigi herself. The way she smiled, the way she walked, and the way she looked at Crystal with a glint of hope that seemed to whisper, 'you’re all I think about.’. This was all a thrill in its own right.
The building stood no bigger than 200 meters off the floor and was no bigger than a local restaurant. It sat squatting in dust and growing weeds, sprouting bountiful amounts of litter and moss up the exposed brick. A glass sign reading 'Elmer Records Inc.“ hung off the hutted roof and blew gently in the wing, the 'R’ hanging by a thread that the right strength gale would knock off. Whatever the building was, it was entirely evident Mr. Elmer had never been here and was never intended to be.
"This is where dreams go to die.” Heidi sighed, slapping her hand on Gigi’s back. The girl looked back to see Crystal, hair sweeping in the gentle breeze and squinting into the face of the sun.
“We’re just paying our dues.” She cracked a dry smile.
“I pay mine just by living with you.” Jackie stated, pushing her way to the door of the establishment, which rang a small bell when opened. Crystal barely stifled a laugh, which made Gigi. It was a pleasant moment where the taller girl wandered over and threw her arm around Crystal. To be back in the space, to be close to her perfume, and to feel her soft skin again; It was Crystal’s dream. How badly she wanted to place a kiss upon her neck as they walked side by side, and how badly she wished she had done. Instead, she resorted to her principles, which had always saved her. She left Gigi’s grip, politely letting her know they weren’t there yet, and in fact, they weren’t much closer from hurt either. Gigi’s path was long and uneven, but it was to be travelled with a smile.
A young man jumped the at the bell, dropping his magazine by his feet and moving his hair from his eyes. He stood no taller than Gigi and seemed to quiver in her very presence. It was truth that whoever, or whatever encountered Gigi, would fall into her arms just as he was doing.
“Who are you?” He coughed.
“Mr. Elmer sent us.” Heidi butted in front of the tall girl.
“And you guys actually came?”
The young man, who would come to make himself known as Ethan, ran his chubby fingers through a black book, stopping on the afternoon’s date. “No one ever comes here.”
“Pardon me being rude.” Crystal joined in. “But, where is Mr. Elmer? I’d like to speak with him.”
“Mr. Elmer isn’t here. He hasn’t been here since he had this place built.”
“He sent us to his office?”
“He sent you here.” Ethan chuckled, closing the book shut. Gigi could’ve swore she watched dust erupt into the air. “Most bands don’t even show up.”
“We’re not like other bands.” Heidi’s voice somewhat cracked.
The younger boy looked on at his four female counterparts in sadness and in empathy. To anyone who didn’t realise the dream, or know the songs, perhaps they were just another band. Just another group that would put on the headphones and sing the songs, but not know they’d burn out in their own garage. He could almost point it out now as they stood there. Asia would have kids and be married, Jackie would run off with a famous model, Heidi would cause the split, and Gigi would be dead by thirty. It was a fate that befell all those who ran after fame.
Crystal seemed the steer towards Gigi as they pondered towards a glass door at the very rear of the studio. It was heavily unlikely that this would make them famous, but she wondered in depth about what if it did. Gigi would forget her, no doubt. There will always be more women to have sex with. There would never be another Crystal, however. There would never be a girl who hit the same spot quite so gently.
The large man coughed as he opened up the space. It nothing more than an old shoebox with a glass screen covered in fingerprints and four pairs of headphones attached to a board of red and green turn-buttons. Having been not used for fourteen years prior, dust had collected in palpable chunks around the room, and it seemed as if dustbowls began to sweep the floor as they poured in.
“You seem like half decent girls.” He stated. “I’m surprised Mr. Elmer didn’t invite you to record in his office in upstate New York.”
“New York!?” Heidi exclaimed. “We were a hell of a lot closer to New York than here, we missed four shows just to be here!”
“He only usually pulls this kind of stunt if a client really pissed him off.” Ethan stated, flicking the lights on inside of the booth. The interior was littered with packets, cups, and mugs, with unknown liquid drying down the side of the red leather walls. Crystal winced at the image.
“Oh, thanks a lot Gigi.” Jackie exclaimed, suddenly shoving a guitar onto the girl’s chest. Crystal couldn’t help but snicker at the girl’s resentful fire. It was as if she was saying aloud everything the brunette thought of. Nothing in the world could have gave her more satisfaction in those moments. The taller girl proceeded to storm to the booth and swing the door open, allowing the plastic panels to slam against their wood backing and shake the whole room.
In her furious streak, she yanked a bass chord from the wall and shoved a pair of headphones around her neck.
“Are you guys coming or what?”
Recording seemed to pass slow for almost everybody. Especially Gigi. The music she once loved was tarnished by the idea there wasn’t a short brunette girl cheered for her in the front row. Never again would she look down to see Crystal’s face smiling up for her. Not in this context, not in any. There, singing into a dusty microphone, she watched the girl lazily. In the moment, she was lay on swivel chair in the corner of the room, both legs draped over the side, and face innocently reading through the lyrics of the songs through and through. They would lock eyes for a split every time Crystal reached a particular song, reminding Gigi of how she had played it the night of the events. She had played it every night, and every morning if she were honest. How it filled the air with Crystal’s sweet smile, and her gentle tapping. It was heaven on earth back when everything was good. Now, it seemed her only suitable punishment. To sing that cursed melody as Crystal overlooked with powerful omnipotence to which Gigi would bow. Crystal seemingly saw it the same way. The world’s greatest tragedy; to have her favourite piece of music dragged through the mud and slandered by someone who wasn’t half as appreciative as she was. Gigi could pretend she knew music, but it was universal truth that she didn’t. She knew how to keep a demographic but showed Crystal no knowledge of real music. Music is a preservation of the soul, she imagined. Some kind of alchemic force that never forgets how to soothe a heart. Gigi saw it as a job, not as a lover. Still, Crystal could not deny the adoration she preserved herself. Unlike music, this one was inconsistent, and entirely unreliable. It was perhaps strongest now when Gigi slaved over her guitar, shirt rolled up around the shoulders and sweaty hair in her face. It was such a brute attraction, she thought. So wild, and so raw she could barely sit still She sang and strummed as if her life depended on it and took a second to run her hands through her hair every now and then. Crystal focussed rather quietly on the way she gripped her guitar. The one thing that brought her joy and was hardly seen without. It reminded her of the grip the girl had on both of her shoulders the night they made love for the first time. It was thrilling, and happy, but ultimately disappointed, as things with Gigi often were.
When the time came to a close end, and Monet had drifted back asleep into the studio corner, Ethan rubbed his eyes sleepily. Gigi had known it was going to be this way along. She sighed and grabbed the microphone with both hands.
“I’m happy to let Heidi sing this song.”
“But you’ve sang the rest?” He gestured.
“And I want Heidi to sing this one.” She sighed, making eyes over at Crystal. The brunette looked dumbfounded, eyes like saucepans, and spinning her legs around in the chair. Gigi once told her that she always knew what to do when it was needed. This was one of those times. Gigi did the right thing and would persist to do so for Crystal. Heidi swallowed hard, knowing it was not only the general public she had to impress, but Crystal as well. She was the finest critic of them all, as she without a doubt loved Gigi. She loved Heidi also, but in a much different way. The love her and Gigi shared was nothing short of terrible magic. It was scary, and painful as she stood at the mic, feeling Gigi’s ghostly fingers still gripping.
“Are you sure?” She mouthed. Gigi held the bass loosely and nodded.
From that pivotal point, Gigi knew Crystal would feel even more lost. She didn’t have the girl she loved her, and now she didn’t even have the song that saved it all. The song from the car, and the song from the stage. The song that was Gigi’s last lament before everything fled downhill. It was coming from Heidi’s mouth now. The soft French notes and airy kisses all traded for Heidi’s deep and raspy voice, fading to Gigi riding out the chords. Crystal was wincing, filling the room with tension. It was as if it hurt to hear. The vowels sounded different, as if their love sounded much different in Heidi’s mouth. It was enough to drive her nearly mad. It was maddening enough for her to leap up from her chair and cut the music off by the knob.
“What?” Gigi removed a side of her headphones.
“Gigi.” She demanded. “You sing the song.”
“What?” she repeated.
“She’s right.” Heidi removed her guitar. “You sing the song. You’re the only one who can do it justice.”
“I can’t sing it.” Her voice shook. “It’s not fair on Crystal. I don’t want to.”
“Do it for me.” Crystal came closer to Ethan’s mic. “If you don’t want to do it for the band. Do it for me. Please.”
From the corner, Jackie coughed quietly.
“It’s the least you could do.”
She was right, it was the least she could do. The very least. She had broken Crystal and dragged her halfway across the country; if she wanted a song singing, Gigi had to comply. She handed the bass over to Heidi and slipped back into her guitar. It was visible to Crystal how much more comfortable it felt on her shoulder, and how well it fit into her hand. Gigi took one more look over, never one to deny herself that final surge over enemy lines, and whispered,
“Are you sure?”
Crystal nodded, biting her nails and sitting back down next to Monet’s sleeping body. Gigi was constantly the reason Crystal was sacrificing, and this one seemed larger than most. She saw the attachment to the song, and the attachment between her and the girl she loved. It seemed in many ways she was giving up both.
Suddenly, the room was alight with beautiful French undertones, and the perfect hum of Gigi’s warm voice. It melted gently over the notes and seemed to kiss the air wonderfully. Crystal almost cried from opulence. Instead, she watched closely to the way that Gigi fixed her sleeves and moved her hair from her eyes. It was evident she loved the song, and she knew it well. Somewhere among those notes, she knew there was Crystal. Or, what was left of Crystal after what Gigi put her through. She sought out to find Crystal, to see her among the music and to appreciate her in the lyrics. She still loved her after all. The notes felt so right in her throat, and so good in the booth. What she would soon recognise, what this would be a turning point for her. Gigi, after this point in time, would not want for much in life. She would be settled, and it would all be paid back to a time when Crystal dragged through four minutes of pain for the sake of an EP she didn’t really care about. Crystal approached the glass as the song came to its end to watch Gigi play the last chord, and after it was over, silence took the room. The entire band exchange looks of beaming pride, knowing magic had been created. It was an electric feeling that started in the chest, and suddenly was pooling through the entire body. It felt like pure joy personified.
“That was….” Ethan said. “That was incredible. You guys are amazing.”
In all her happiness, Gigi caught Crystal’s hand against the glass.
“Crystal.” She breathed. “Was it good enough? You’re the only one who knows.”
The brunette bit her lip and let a single tear drop down her face.
“It was amazing.” She whimpered. “It was perfect.”
Crystal wiped her tear, sniffled and stared for one second. She’d just made history, and it was evident in the way the room felt. It was lovely, but it wasn’t for her. Crystal shook her head one more time and took a swift exit from the studio to the warm outsides of California. The explosion was less a situational need, and more a bold act of symbolism. What Crystal and Gigi had was perfect, yes, but it was also sad. It was sad, and tear-worthy, and it was ruining Crystal’s life. She had to leave. There was nothing in the world that could make her stay.
For a brief moment, she looked back at the studio door which still swung back and forth with the remnants of her exit. A good portion of her began to pray that Gigi would save her own cause and follow Crystal outside, but she didn’t. The door stopped swinging, and Crystal stopped hoping someone would follow her. She learnt quickly that she wasn’t about to be treated like something that mattered to Gigi. That wasn’t her anymore. The girl wiped her tears and took a look onto the gentle desert before her. Up the rocky path, a convenience store stood just about twenty steps out. It’s neon sign lit up the increasingly dark area and blinked slightly in the vision. It gave Crystal a weird settlement, and a wave of calm no bigger than the words 'I love you’ washed over quickly. Gigi, who had been watching her from behind since the brunette had turned away, let out a little sigh and overlooked the world around her. Not a grain of sand, nor plant, nor small remote animal moved. It came again, a louder sigh which was followed by the wind of the closing door whipping her round. The cold air seemed the grip the sweat on her back and arms through the linen white shirt, and created goosebumps up and down her arms. The night was setting, and she began to wonder what happiness had felt like. Had she ever felt it before? Tonight had been so magical, and still it could not be celebrated. For a second it felt unfair that she was being forced to pin her entire life on a girl she knew once, and didn’t really understand anymore. It dawned on her rather quickly that all of this was her fault. How sad it was she was the villain in her own fairy-tale ending.
It was only as Crystal got closer to the convince store that she ran after the girl, catching her breathlessly just as the pushed the door open and rang the bell.
“Crystal.” She panted. “I’m sorry I didn’t come. Monet told me not to, but I think I know you better than that.”
The brunette looked down at Gigi doubled over and sighed.
“No need to run after me.”
Head held high, the brunette began to traipse down the aisle. She never directly looked at Gigi, but knew she was following closely by the squeaky sound of her shoes on the linoleum.
“Why’d you come here?” Gigi asked, as her counterpart stopped to look. “We sang your song and everything.”
“Oh, you mean the song you played for me an hour before you had sex with another woman?” She moved.
“That’s the one.” Gigi sighed. Her patience for Crystal to stop giving her a hard time was decreasing by the very second. “It breaks my heart when you bring that up.
"It broke my heart when you did it.”
Crystal finally looked up at the girl. She was leant against a shelf, a cigarette behind one of her ears, and hair slicked back. She looked like the villain from a James bond movie, and something sinister about this drove Crystal slightly crazy.
“What’s with this anyway?” Crystal removed the cigarette and waved it in front of the girl’s face.
Gigi sniggered. “I’m hoping it will kill me before you do, or the drugs do.”
“That’s not funny.” Crystal shoved the cigarette back at the girl.
“I’m kidding.” She smiled again. “It just takes the edge off.”
“It’s stupid.” She sighed. “And, it doesn’t make me any more attracted to you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Well, I don’t imagine you can be any more attracted to me than you already are.” The girl laughed again. If looks could kill, Gigi would’ve been dead the second they locked eyes again.
“You just can’t stop with the jokes, can you, Gigi?” Crystal chuckled, in a way that almost terrified the taller girl to her core. Gigi wondered if Crystal often felt this way about her. “I’m glad you find this all so entertaining.”
The brunette shoved around four miscellaneous objects into her friends grasp. At quick glance, it was two bottles of deodorant, some wet wipes, and a small face flannel.
“What’s all this?”
“I’m going home.” Crystal smiled, pushing a single pack of toothpaste on the girl. “It’s not an easy drive back to Seattle. You may have people on that bus who are willing to drive you all night because you pay them to, but I don’t have that.”
“Wait, why are you going?” Gigi seemed mildly disappointed, but not at all shocked.
“You said to me that if I still hated you by the time we reached California, then you’d let me go.”
“And you hate me?”
“Well.” Crystal stopped walking across the aisle to face the girl. “When I got off that bus today, I didn’t hate you, but then I heard you perform that song.”
“And you cried.” Gigi almost whined. “You cried because I did it right, right? You cried because I did the song the way you wanted it done.”
“The way you sang was exceptional.” Crystal could feel herself welling up again. “But, I was crying because I realised, you never won’t be the girl that ruined my life.”
It was this point that Gigi cried in front of Crystal, perhaps for only the second time since they had known each other. It was strange, as if some kind of phenomenal role reversal had taken place. For once, Gigi’s feelings were on the line, and Crystal presented apathy, as if she had never felt anything at all.
“I said I was sorry.” Gigi continued, wiping her tears. “I wouldn’t do it again, you know that.”
“Perhaps that’s true.” Crystal collected all of her things back. “But, the one time was enough.”
They said not much more to each other, and continued slowly towards the checkout. Crystal seemed so stone and set, Gigi couldn’t help but wonder how long she had known she wasn’t going to stay. It must have been longer than a couple of days. She didn’t even cry.
“The way you talk about Seattle, I’d assume it was the only place in the world.” Gigi sniffled, as Crystal loaded the items onto the till.
“It is to me.” She sighed in return. “Nothing has felt quite as real since I left.”
“Let me pay for these.” Gigi rushed forward and shoved the $20 in her pocket towards the cashier. “If you’re so set on leaving.”
“I am.”
Gigi handed the girl her bag in what seemed like a metaphoric exchange of hope. Crystal felt so tied in those minutes, it took everything in her not to offer to stay.
“Dark out.” Gigi shoved her hands in her pockets as they faced the California breeze together. The bus, having known the only place they could’ve gone was the convince store, was parked square outside with all the lights off and Monet’s car in the rear.
“Mhm.” Crystal breathed. “California seems to be a lot colder at night.”
“The winds have turned back.”
“Seems like it.”
Crystal stared at the truck for what seemed like forever, and turned back to Gigi when she was ready to walk.
“It’s a straight slip-road back to Seattle.” She said, matter of fact. “We’ll have to follow you guys at least half of the way.”
“Stay on the bus then.” Gigi reacted seamlessly.
“I can’t, someone has to drive the car and- ”
“I’ll drive the car.” Gigi came again. “You know, there’s a bed on that bus. My bed. You and Monet could have it. It’ll be at least three days till we get out of the slip road. There’s food as well. You won’t have to live off McDonald’s and 7-Eleven, whereas I’ve been living off that my whole life.”
“And I wouldn’t have to see you?”
“No.” Gigi spoke, saddened. “You wouldn’t have to see me. Only to say bye.”
“You’d be okay?”
“I’d be fine, Cris.” She smiled. Saying her name like that, whilst all the stars were shining, and the air was cool; it felt so right. “I just want to show you how terribly sorry I am for what I did.”
“Okay.” Crystal said, as she hopped up onto the platform of the bus. “I never ever thought this was what would have come over a chance night with a band I didn’t even know.”
“I know. Getting off with the lead singer is everybody’s dream.”
The brunette managed to crack a smile watching her counterpart lean up against the hood of the car.
“Hey, Gigi?”
“Yes?”
“What did he say?”
“What did who say?”
“That guy in there. Ethan. What did he say about the song?”
“Do you want the truth or the lie?” Gigi asked nicely.
“The truth.”
“He loved it. He thinks we have a real chance at making it. Says Mr. Elmer will call back in three days to tell us if he wants to sign us and release the single.”
“That’s amazing.” She was taken aback. “I’m thrilled for you.”
“Thank you.”
Crystal looked at Gigi with what could only be described as adequate loss. Not because she was going away, or she had somewhere else to be, but because fame would change Gigi. One night of passion had changed her, and now this was going to change her too. After this moment, Gigi would never be the same woman again.
“Just one more thing before you’re famous.” Crystal smiled, jumping back off the bus and pressing her lips to the girl’s in one swift motion. It lasted no more than five seconds. Gigi was smashed up against the hood, one arm on Crystal’s waist, whilst Crystal pressed both her hands closely onto the other woman’s face. It suddenly felt like the first time they ever kissed. They were back in Crystal’s home town, on her road, with her stuff shoved into her suitcase. A cold memory of what was to never be again.
“Don’t forget me when you’re successful.” Crystal wiped the girls chin. “Drive safe.”
The taller girl watched her get onto the bus before clambering into the car and sighing. It felt like a romantic comedy where the goofy main character finally gets the kiss they’ve been waiting for. They come home, sit on their bed, and sigh loudly. Gigi was doing it now, seeming to forget she had broken the girl before anything had begun. In that car, it was her, the dainty memory of Crystal’s lips, and the hope of a better future, none of which would ever come into fruition together ever again.