Wild-Eyed Angst and The Queen of Spades, chapter 6
"And I'm so disenchanted with your voice
And I wish I could drown you out
But these words that you put in my head
Remind me of the taste that's left in my mouth..."
Christy had her back turned to the recording studio door, strumming a black acoustic that was left out from the recording session that day. The Stiletto Killers had finished mastering their EP in three weeks at Studio 880, which was record time. And three weeks had gone by like wildfire. Christy's hair was now all black, still short and croppy, but without the trademark blonde she sported. She had also gotten a tattoo on her forearm, the same angels that Billie Joe had on his forearm, and a tattoo of a small heart on her middle finger. Today, she was relaxing in an Adeline track jacket with a white tank top and a pair of tight blue jeans. A studded belt was threaded through the holes, and was clasped shut with an eagle buckle with crossed wrenches behind it. She was just trying out a new song, a soliloquoy that she had been singing in her mind since that morning. Christy was a bit frustrated because Billie Joe had presented some bad news.
A couple of hours earlier...
"I bring Starbucks!" Selena exclaimed, walking through the recording studio door balancing five grande-sized coffee cups. She set one down in front of Billie Joe, who was in the booth, then went through the door to where Christy and Thom were laying down guitar riffs and handed them their drinks, giving Thom a kiss. She then finally went back into the recording booth and handed Frank his drink, then took a long sip off her own.
"That hit the spot," she said, and Christy and Thom in the other room raised their drinks in agreement.
"Thanks, Sel," Billie Joe said, then motioned for Christy and Thom to enter the room. "But unfortunately, I have some bad news."
"What?" Christy said, entering the booth and sitting down in Selena's lap, causing her to squeal.
Billie Joe sighed before continuing. "It appears that your band name is taken...by a fashion label."
Christy was incredulous. "What?!"
"Yeah, no joke," Billie Joe added. "Kelly Osbourne, Ozzy Ozbourne's daughter, well, her fashion label is called Stiletto Killers, and she said you guys could keep your name, if you promoted her clothes."
Christy thought this for a minute, then slammed her cup down, causing Selena to jump. "Fuck that, we're not some lackey for Kelly Osbourne. We'll change our name."
Frank added his opinion, taking a swig of coffee. "How about...the Heartbreakers...no, shit, it's already been taken...oh! Our second choice name, The Heartaches!"
Christy looked at Selena, who looked at Thom, who looked at Frank, who nodded.
"The Heartaches it is."
-----
Christy was alright with the name change, and she was fine with the title for the EP ('Electrikka', and the artwork featured a teenage girl in a khaki army uniform with a short skirt and a Nazi armband on, but instead of a swatstika, it had a broken heart in it. She had a stiletto in her hand, and a sneer on her face.) but she loved her band's name. "Fuck Kelly," she whispered softly, and continued with her song.
"There's got to be something just over this hill
And someday you'll take me there
But I won't be among the living,
No I won't be among the living..."
It was a song called 'Disenchanted' that she was writing for the full-length album that they were gonna start recording after a two week break. The album would be released next week, and they were taking time off to go back to New Jersey, get the rest of their stuff and Christy's car, and then come back and promote their EP a bit. They also had some gigs to play at some New Jersey stops as well.
Sure, Christy loved her new song, but there was something missing.
And that missing piece walked through the door.
A soft applause emitted from the doorframe, and Christy turned around after strumming the last chord to the song. Before her eyes was a man who was rather pale, with black jeans and a leather jacket on. His black hair had grown out somewhat, and his eyes were shadowed by sunglasses that took up almost all of his face. He walked up to Christy, and extended his hand.
"Hi, I don't believe we've met. I was looking for Billie, just to catch up and have a smoke with, but found you instead. Gerard Way, and the pleasure is all mine, miss...?"
Christy grinned, placing her guitar down and shook his hand.
"Christoria. Christoria Armstrong. And I can go have a smoke with you, if you don't mind."
"I would be delighted to have you for company." He gestured for her to follow, and she did, grabbing her keys and sunglasses on the way out. As they were walking, he spoke.
"I heard you singing. You have a lovely voice, you know."
Christy blushed. "Thank you. Your voice isn't that bad either, Gerard."
He laughed, and turned around, stopping. "Thank you as well."
Before she could stop herself, Christy blurted out, "But I think there's something missing in my song. I dunno what."
"Hmm? Really?" Gerard had a look on his face like he knew exactly what was missing.
"Yeah."
They arrived outside, and Christy waved goodbye to the management crew, and they waved back.
"See you soon, Christy!"
"Take care!"
Gerard held the door open for her and she whispered a 'Thank you' before walking through, him following behind.
They reached Christy's car that was on loan from the record label, a Fairlane just like Christy's back home except it was red. She got the keys, opened the car and pulled out her cigarettes and a Zippo lighter, and held the lighter out to Gerard. He looked at it curiously. "Aren't you gonna light yours?"
Christy laughed and pulled out an all-white stick that looked more like a piece of chalk. She chomped down on it, and chewed it happily while looking at a shocked Gerard. "They're candy. I don't smoke, silly."
"My bad."
"Whatever."
They laughed, then turned away from eachother.
"So...you're from The Still--I mean, The Heartaches?"
"Yep, and you're from that other New Jersey band that wishes they were as good as us?"
"Haha, yeah."
"New Jersey brotherhood. Or sisterhood, in our case."
"Hey!"
When Gerard was done, he extinguished his cigarette by throwing it down on the pavement and stomping on it. Christy giggled.
"You have loud feet, you know."
"They're big. And big feet means..."
"Ewwww, that sick! I don't need to know that, we've just met!"
"I meant big socks, you fool!"
Christy blushed, and looked down to prevent dirty images coming to her mind. Too late. She started giggling, then covered her mouth so she wouldn't sound perverted, then broke out laughing.
"What's so funny?"
"...You."
Christy calmed herself down a bit, then put her stuff back in her car. "So...you need a ride someplace?" Gerard looked around, then shook his head. "I got it covered," he said, gesturing to a black car across from hers. She nodded.
"Well, I guess I should be going."
"Wait!"
"What?"
"...Can I have your number?"
A bit taken aback, she obliged him by dictating it to him while he programmed it into his cell phone. "Alright then."
"See you, Gerard."
"See you around, Christoria."
And climbing into his car, he drove off.
-----
"YOU TALKED WITH GERARD WAY?!"
Frank was aghast. If he had a glass in his hand, he would have dropped it.
Christy shook her head, obviously pleased with his reaction. "Yep. We had a cigarette together."
Frank was on the verge of fainting now. He was trembling, then sighed hesitantly. "Wish I could have been there..."
"And, get this Frank. He asked me for my number."
-----
"911."
"Hi, we have--Hold on, Selena!--we have a passed out man on our floor."
And I wish I could drown you out
But these words that you put in my head
Remind me of the taste that's left in my mouth..."
Christy had her back turned to the recording studio door, strumming a black acoustic that was left out from the recording session that day. The Stiletto Killers had finished mastering their EP in three weeks at Studio 880, which was record time. And three weeks had gone by like wildfire. Christy's hair was now all black, still short and croppy, but without the trademark blonde she sported. She had also gotten a tattoo on her forearm, the same angels that Billie Joe had on his forearm, and a tattoo of a small heart on her middle finger. Today, she was relaxing in an Adeline track jacket with a white tank top and a pair of tight blue jeans. A studded belt was threaded through the holes, and was clasped shut with an eagle buckle with crossed wrenches behind it. She was just trying out a new song, a soliloquoy that she had been singing in her mind since that morning. Christy was a bit frustrated because Billie Joe had presented some bad news.
A couple of hours earlier...
"I bring Starbucks!" Selena exclaimed, walking through the recording studio door balancing five grande-sized coffee cups. She set one down in front of Billie Joe, who was in the booth, then went through the door to where Christy and Thom were laying down guitar riffs and handed them their drinks, giving Thom a kiss. She then finally went back into the recording booth and handed Frank his drink, then took a long sip off her own.
"That hit the spot," she said, and Christy and Thom in the other room raised their drinks in agreement.
"Thanks, Sel," Billie Joe said, then motioned for Christy and Thom to enter the room. "But unfortunately, I have some bad news."
"What?" Christy said, entering the booth and sitting down in Selena's lap, causing her to squeal.
Billie Joe sighed before continuing. "It appears that your band name is taken...by a fashion label."
Christy was incredulous. "What?!"
"Yeah, no joke," Billie Joe added. "Kelly Osbourne, Ozzy Ozbourne's daughter, well, her fashion label is called Stiletto Killers, and she said you guys could keep your name, if you promoted her clothes."
Christy thought this for a minute, then slammed her cup down, causing Selena to jump. "Fuck that, we're not some lackey for Kelly Osbourne. We'll change our name."
Frank added his opinion, taking a swig of coffee. "How about...the Heartbreakers...no, shit, it's already been taken...oh! Our second choice name, The Heartaches!"
Christy looked at Selena, who looked at Thom, who looked at Frank, who nodded.
"The Heartaches it is."
-----
Christy was alright with the name change, and she was fine with the title for the EP ('Electrikka', and the artwork featured a teenage girl in a khaki army uniform with a short skirt and a Nazi armband on, but instead of a swatstika, it had a broken heart in it. She had a stiletto in her hand, and a sneer on her face.) but she loved her band's name. "Fuck Kelly," she whispered softly, and continued with her song.
"There's got to be something just over this hill
And someday you'll take me there
But I won't be among the living,
No I won't be among the living..."
It was a song called 'Disenchanted' that she was writing for the full-length album that they were gonna start recording after a two week break. The album would be released next week, and they were taking time off to go back to New Jersey, get the rest of their stuff and Christy's car, and then come back and promote their EP a bit. They also had some gigs to play at some New Jersey stops as well.
Sure, Christy loved her new song, but there was something missing.
And that missing piece walked through the door.
A soft applause emitted from the doorframe, and Christy turned around after strumming the last chord to the song. Before her eyes was a man who was rather pale, with black jeans and a leather jacket on. His black hair had grown out somewhat, and his eyes were shadowed by sunglasses that took up almost all of his face. He walked up to Christy, and extended his hand.
"Hi, I don't believe we've met. I was looking for Billie, just to catch up and have a smoke with, but found you instead. Gerard Way, and the pleasure is all mine, miss...?"
Christy grinned, placing her guitar down and shook his hand.
"Christoria. Christoria Armstrong. And I can go have a smoke with you, if you don't mind."
"I would be delighted to have you for company." He gestured for her to follow, and she did, grabbing her keys and sunglasses on the way out. As they were walking, he spoke.
"I heard you singing. You have a lovely voice, you know."
Christy blushed. "Thank you. Your voice isn't that bad either, Gerard."
He laughed, and turned around, stopping. "Thank you as well."
Before she could stop herself, Christy blurted out, "But I think there's something missing in my song. I dunno what."
"Hmm? Really?" Gerard had a look on his face like he knew exactly what was missing.
"Yeah."
They arrived outside, and Christy waved goodbye to the management crew, and they waved back.
"See you soon, Christy!"
"Take care!"
Gerard held the door open for her and she whispered a 'Thank you' before walking through, him following behind.
They reached Christy's car that was on loan from the record label, a Fairlane just like Christy's back home except it was red. She got the keys, opened the car and pulled out her cigarettes and a Zippo lighter, and held the lighter out to Gerard. He looked at it curiously. "Aren't you gonna light yours?"
Christy laughed and pulled out an all-white stick that looked more like a piece of chalk. She chomped down on it, and chewed it happily while looking at a shocked Gerard. "They're candy. I don't smoke, silly."
"My bad."
"Whatever."
They laughed, then turned away from eachother.
"So...you're from The Still--I mean, The Heartaches?"
"Yep, and you're from that other New Jersey band that wishes they were as good as us?"
"Haha, yeah."
"New Jersey brotherhood. Or sisterhood, in our case."
"Hey!"
When Gerard was done, he extinguished his cigarette by throwing it down on the pavement and stomping on it. Christy giggled.
"You have loud feet, you know."
"They're big. And big feet means..."
"Ewwww, that sick! I don't need to know that, we've just met!"
"I meant big socks, you fool!"
Christy blushed, and looked down to prevent dirty images coming to her mind. Too late. She started giggling, then covered her mouth so she wouldn't sound perverted, then broke out laughing.
"What's so funny?"
"...You."
Christy calmed herself down a bit, then put her stuff back in her car. "So...you need a ride someplace?" Gerard looked around, then shook his head. "I got it covered," he said, gesturing to a black car across from hers. She nodded.
"Well, I guess I should be going."
"Wait!"
"What?"
"...Can I have your number?"
A bit taken aback, she obliged him by dictating it to him while he programmed it into his cell phone. "Alright then."
"See you, Gerard."
"See you around, Christoria."
And climbing into his car, he drove off.
-----
"YOU TALKED WITH GERARD WAY?!"
Frank was aghast. If he had a glass in his hand, he would have dropped it.
Christy shook her head, obviously pleased with his reaction. "Yep. We had a cigarette together."
Frank was on the verge of fainting now. He was trembling, then sighed hesitantly. "Wish I could have been there..."
"And, get this Frank. He asked me for my number."
-----
"911."
"Hi, we have--Hold on, Selena!--we have a passed out man on our floor."
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