Gerard's take on his first meeting with Desole.
It was mid afternoon and I was just sitting around, smoking and waiting for the first band to finish their set list when Bert called me over to the side stage. His facial expression was telling me that it was something important, so I put out my cigarette butt on the ground and walked over to him. I was about to ask him what he wanted to tell me but then he just pointed out onstage and that’s when I saw her for the very first time.
She was clad in leather shorts and matching studded bra. Her hair was long, flowing and a beautiful silvery blonde color. Her mouth and eyes were lined in bold black charcoal lipstick and eye liner and she had stark white skin. The way she screeched was enchanting but not as enchanting as the way she had total and complete control over the crowd. They did anything that she commanded them to. She was like a drill sergeant. A beautiful, slender drill sergeant. I found myself in a little bit of a haze, wondering what her eyes looked like up close. I bet they were a beautiful silver blue, or maybe gray. But just as I was thinking about her eyes I was bombarded by the way her rail thin body moved as she danced around onstage, fearless and furious.
Bert and I watched along with Frank and Mikey who had also wandered over to see the spectacular show that she was putting on for everybody. She was like a wild animal up there. She saw that we were staring half way through the set but we didn’t even care, we were too transfixed by her, me especially. The way she danced was like having a spell cast over you, the longer it went on the deeper and deeper you were entranced in it. My heart swelled up until I thought it would pop. What was this feeling? Infatuation? Attraction? What was it and why haven’t I ever felt this way before?
Toward the end of the bands set she dropped down into a perfect split, looking at us all the while. It sent a chill through me. Then she cast us a wink that knocked the air right out of my chest. At that point I could feel myself loosing control so I turned and practically ran to the bathroom backstage where I noticed that I had gotten the biggest, most noticeable hard on I’d ever had. I knew I wanted to meet her in person, to talk to her and find out what color her eyes were. So I thought of spiders and needles and lit another cigarette to calm myself down.
Once I regained control of myself I walked out of the bathroom as casually as I could and went back to our bands dressing room. Bert was already inside, beer in hand and waiting for me. He asked where I had been and told him that I had to go to the bathroom. I took a long, calming drag off of my cigarette and hoped that she would make an appearance. I wanted to see her up close, I wanted to learn her name at least. We stood by the beer cooler, drinking, talking and laughing until she came him.
My eyes fell upon her again and it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. She had a towel around her neck and her hair was damp. She was still in her stage clothes and her make up was smudged and runny. Her smile was spread from ear to ear. She waltzed right up to me and Bert and flashed up both a big grin. She was beaming. I saw how short she was. We were both towering over her and she was bare foot. It was weird, she seemed so much taller onstage. Maybe it was just her personality.
“Hello, hello.” Bert said smoothly, lowering his sun glasses to get a better look. I wished suddenly that he hadn’t worn them inside because she probably assumed he was blind now or something.
“Hey. You boys got anything for a lady to drink?” she asked playfully, looking us both over. I felt myself start to sweat when her eyes fell on me. They were a sharp shade of blue gray, like cigarette smoke in a car at night.
“If you want I could give you something else to drink.” Bert said slyly. She scoffed under her breath and gave him a look that said “in your dreams”. Bert had always been better with the girls, so I figured out now that I was probably screwed on this one.
“Can it Bert.” I mumbled, nudging him in the side with my elbow. I really, really didn’t want her thinking that we were both sexual deviants despite the fact that she herself looked like a dominatrix.
“Whatever man, I’ll catch ya later.” he said, giving me a pat on the back before trudging off to find somebody else to hit on. All I could think was “oh god please no” as I watched him walk away. What should I say? What should I do? Why was this always so hard for me?
“Sorry ‘bout Bert, he can be a bit of a prick sometimes.” was the first thing I thought to say. She smiled so warmly it made the room hotter and batted her mile-long eye lashes at me in return.
“Its fine.” she brushed it off and I sighed inwardly with relief. “I’m Desolé by the way.” Desolé…the way it rolled out of her mouth was intoxicating.
“I’m Gerard.” I said, trying my best not to mumble or look at my feet. But it was hard not to because looking into her eyes was like looking into the fucking sun. “You were really great tonight.” I said honestly. Her pale cheeks flushed and she let out a tiny girlish giggle.
“Oh, well thank you. Nice to meet you Gerard. I saw you guys watching me from the side stage.” She smirked. My stomach dropped, but I wasn’t really sure why. Just being around her put me on edge. “So, could you hand me a beer?” she flirted.
“How old are you?” I asked, realizing how young she looked. She couldn’t be anywhere near twenty yet. “You look like your fifteen?” she looked a little disgruntled. She probably didn’t like being asked about her age. Maybe it was just her height.
“I’m eighteen for your information.” she said hotly. “But everybody tells me I’m wise beyond my years.” She added slyly. I scoffed jokingly and watched her furrow her eyebrows. I could already tell that messing with her would be fun.
“Well, you’re not twenty one so technically its illegal for me to hand you a beer.” I said with an honest shrug. She looked genuinely frustrated as she rolled those pretty blue eyes and I couldn’t hold back a small laugh.
“Are you for real?” she asked haughtily. I shrugged again and she rolled her eyes again, only making me chuckle even more. Suddenly, she stood up on her toes and snatched the beer right out of my hand before throwing her head back and downing it in one big gulp. I was pleasantly surprised.
“Watch yourself short stack, you might get tipsy from such a big drink.” I teased. She looked infuriated by my statement.
“Short stack? Really?!” she said, her voice raised a little bit. I let out a laugh. “Can it Gerard, I wear heels bigger than your dick.” She snapped at me. I kept laughing and tossed my now empty beer into the trash can at my side.
“Woah there, somebody should wash your mouth out with soap.” I said, making a mock-surprised face. She glared at me for a second, thinking. Then she stood on tip toe once more, only this time she took my cigarette right out of my mouth and popped it into hers.
“I guess I was just born to be bad.” she said with a calm shrug before turning on her heel and strutting out of the dressing room. I watched her go, smiling to myself as I thought about how interesting this tour was going to be.
“Hey, there.” said a random voice from my left side. I jumped a little bit and say it was Desolé’s bassist standing next to me.
“Oh, hey.” I said cautiously. He smiled and extended his hand for me to shake, which I did.
“I’m Milo, Desolé’s best friend.” he introduced himself.
“I’m Gerard.” I said back.
“She sure is something, aint’ she?” Milo asked as we watched Desolé out in the hall way, talking to one of the security guards.
“Something is right. I’m not sure what though.” I said, more to myself than anybody. “So what brings you here?” I asked after a little pause.
“I just came to give you a fair warning.” Milo said honestly. I glanced at him, one eyebrow raised.
“About what?” I asked suspiciously. Milo sighed heavily.
“About Desolé.” he said,.
“What about her?” I asked. He sighed again, shaking his head.
“Desolé is…troubled and very…complicated for lack of a better word.” Milo explained. I furrowed my brows and fished a new smoke out of my pocket. “She’s a total wild child, completely out of control and out of her mind. Just want you to be careful.” he continued.
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked him.
“You like her, I can tell.” he said simply. I was about to deny when he started talking again. “No, no, no, don’t lie. I see the way you were looking at her onstage and just now.” he said in a mater-of-fact type of tone. Was it really that obvious?
“Well what do you mean out of control?” I asked, deciding to skip this part of the conversation.
“Well, you see, Desolé has a lot of mommy and daddy issues. She’s got a temper to match a Tasmanian Devil’s and a mouth that would make a sailor blush. And the thing is, she might not even like men.” Milo admitted.
“What do you mean?” I inquired.
“She’s never dated a guy before. She had one girlfriend who um, passed away and she hasn’t dated anybody sense.” Milo told me. “Don’t tell her that I’m saying this to you. Just watch out though, she’s a man eater. She’s chews up guys and spits ‘em out. And she just loves eating nice guys like you for breakfast.” Milo warned. I nodded.
“I figured as much.” I said.
“She likes a guys who are willing to put up her with bullshit, so she’s try to push your buttons on purpose just to see if you’ll pass her little tests. She wants somebody empathetic, somebody who understands. She wants attention and demands a lot of it.” Milo said. I felt like he was prepping me for some sort of sports game or something.
“But just remember, what Desolé really needs is somebody who’s willing to take care of her. Lord knows she can’t do it herself.”