Wings & Hearts

The venue wasn’t Tavastia, as I had originally thought, but its “sister club” (or so they tried to tell me, I doubted it by the looks of the place) called Semifinal. The boys had disappeared backstage as soon as we arrived, all mumbling something about a sound check and stumbling into one another as they fled and left Hanna and I alone. We chose a table near the front and sat, lit smokes and chatted until I was able to order a drink - and a piece of French Toast (why it was in the menu I’ll probably never know, but it was there and I was hungry). I chewed thoughtfully as Hanna - deep into her first Cuba Libre of the evening - explained her love of Ville to me. It wasn’t the first time she had professed her love of him to me while he wasn’t around, and it wasn’t the first time I wondered why she didn’t profess it to him directly.

“Where is Ville tonight, anyway?” I prodded, nursing my White Russian. I didn’t really want to wake up with a hangover tomorrow (though in the back of my mind I knew it would happen no matter how hard I wished it wouldn’t) and so I planned to take it easy until the boys were done playing.

Deep down, I was jealous of Ville and Hanna - they were just so love-y and cute. When the pair were together, their eyes would meet and they would get this look like they would both turn into puddles of sop if they didn’t make out right that very instant. Jyrki and I didn’t have that - we had never even said weather or not we were officially “dating,” when people were around we were too distracted with catering to their needs rather than our own, Jyrki was always working with his band or we would talk about Chemistry-related things - a subject in which there was no room for romance. However, it wasn’t as if either of us were very big into PDA; maybe if I finally let him have sex with me…

“He’s coming, he’s coming. He had to go see his parents today.” I nodded in answer, dragged out of my revelry. I hadn’t seen Paavo in what seemed like days - we were both on Winter break, but he had been mooning about with Kirsi and had apparently forgotten about his beloved little sister. He was supposed to show tonight, just like Ville; but unlike Ville, Paavo would show with one of my least favorite people in Helsinki on his arm.

As we chatted, the sound of an out-of-tune guitar (Paavo had taught me something about music) cut through the crowd. Then an in-tune guitar; the pair tuned together until a deep grumble greeted the crowd. A bass joined in, and Jussi (it was obviously hyperactive Jussi) beat the skins ruthlessly for a most obnoxious drum roll. It was then that I could make out Jyrki - standing on stage with a microphone waiting for the din to die down a little before he started to sing.

I shifted uncomfortably in the tight pants Hanna had forced me into; I didn’t feel like myself, I felt like I was posing as something I was not - I definitely wasn’t the type to wear a damned outfit like this. Sure, I’d wear Jyrki’s jackets, but that was because he was my… significant other. After so many years of Polo’s, I felt strange to be in this off-the-shoulder, collarless/colorless garb. I was beginning to think I was addicted to being the sore thumb, as well; the anonymity of fitting did not suit my tastes (especially since I could tell Jyrki was scanning the crowd looking for me but couldn’t quite locate me out of a sea of similarly-dressed girls).

“Look Sini, they’re going backstage. Suppose we should go find them?” A sly smile crossed Hanna’s face, and I mirrored it on my own, securing my cigarettes between my breasts before we vacated our little table for greener pastures.

I felt Jyrki’s arms ensnare me as Hanna and I passed through a low archway in the backstage area - Hanna had no problems convincing the bouncer that we belonged backstage for the simple fact that Ville’s band(s) had played at the club on numerous occasions. Forgetting I had a drink in hand, I turned in Jyrki’s grasp - only his quick thinking kept the drink from becoming a lovely addition to his leather jacket.

“Hey sweetling, be careful about where you’re slinging your alcohol!” He pulled my face to his for a quick kiss (in plain view of all the guys! Gasp!) - and I reveled at how his kisses always made me feel like I had cleared an entire bottle of vodka on my own.

“Sorry, I forgot I had it.”

“I have that effect on people,” I laughed at his supposed arrogance and planted another kiss on his chin (all I could reach, Jyrki had at least half a foot on me). “I have a surprise for you tonight,”

“Oh you do?” I grimaced slightly into his hair - I had already thwarted three attempts on my virginity in the last month; once a week he attempted the “perfect” setting he had promised me, and once a week the time wasn’t right. The first attempt, I had been incredibly hungover, the second I was on the rag, the third time I accidentally knocked over a candle upon entering his room and burned a hole in one of his favorite pairs of leather pants. It had been a long month.

“It’s a good surprise, I think you’ll like this one.” I raised an eyebrow, a wry smile crossed his face as he looped his arm around my waist, threw his other over Hanna’s shoulders and brought us back to a most disgusting dressing room. The place smelled like an entire football team after playing a close (but winning) game and had taken off their cleats but not showered. It was enough to make me gag. Only Jussi was brave enough to sit on the couch - which must have had the capability to transfer rare diseases and STD’s via skin contact - everyone else hovered about the place with assorted beverages. Jyrki retrieved a glass of vodka from the table as we walked in.

“When do you guys go on?” Ville’s voice called from the doorway. I turned in time to see Hanna tackle him, a flurry of limbs into the disgusting couch dislodged Jussi from his seat.

“Good question.” Jussi bounced to sit on the stool I was about to plop down on; our glares were cut by Jyrki’s answer.

“I dunno, twenty minutes or so.” The tall man settled himself behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist and his head on my shoulder - he must have bent nearly double. I tangled my free hand in his long locks, enjoying the attention.

Just minutes later, Jyrki was torn from my back by a mousey-looking man who demanded that the band go backstage to get ready. I had no qualms with that, the smell of the dressing room had started to permeate my being. Hanna, Ville and I perched on a pair of amplifiers - Ville and Hanna sat on top of each other, and I sat cross-legged as I had when I observed the boys play that first time while I attempted to avoid looking too closely at the disgustingly happy couple beside me.

“Sini, honey?” I had been staring across the crowd, wondering how in hell Jyrki didn’t have huge nerves when the man in question placed his hand on the small of my back; his voice was the epitome of calm as the harsh howls of the crowd grew louder. Briefly, I reached in my pocket and felt the small silver chain slip between my finger tips; I pulled it out, and with a brief glance at Hanna to make sure she wasn’t paying attention, I began to fasten it around my neck.

“Now I feel whole again,” I flashed Jyrki a broad grin; he gently turned the earring in my left ear with his broad fingertips and I froze like a cat caught sneaking out a partially open window. “What’re you doing?”

“I like them,” After all of the shit I had gone through with those earrings, he had better like them! They had gotten so infected at one point I had to actually go visit the pierced, and he told me I had either been neglectful or overly attentive - well what would he expect from the OCD girl who had forced him to move the dots on my ears (where the holes would be, the piercer had made the mistake of asking my opinion on how they were placed) no less than half a dozen times, of course I was going to be ‘overly attentive!’ I wasn’t certain that my wide-eyed stare could convey all of that to Jyrki, but he seemed to get the message by the way he laughed at my pained grimace.

“Hey, I have to go onstage in a minute, one for the road eh?”

“Break a leg out there - I’m told that’s what I’m supposed to say to you in order not to jinx anything.” I muttered in his ear as I reached to kiss his cheek.

“That’s it? That’s all I get?” Jyrki’s false anxiety and cute little pout made me cave - I placed another peck on his smooth cheek and one on his lips, ‘for the road’ as he had said. God I hate acting like a woman in love, it always felt like we were about to plunge into Shakespearian dialogue straight from Romeo and Juliet. The thought made me pout for a second, but I smoothed my face and wrapped my arms around Jyrki’s waist - all tragedy aside, the feeling of being loved was pretty damned great.

“Are you excited for your surprise, love?” His big paw rested on the top of my head as I buried it in his chest much in the same way I had seen Hanna embrace Ville from a seated position. Gag. This lovey-dovey stuff was damned difficult, maybe there was a damned good reason Jyrki and I weren’t big into the whole PDA thing; it wasn’t that I didn’t love to hug and kiss the man, I simply believed those motions were supposed to be private. Blame the parents.

“Very.” I grinned into his chest, wincing as the announcer screamed the band’s name into the microphone - the amplifier beneath me rumbled and sent vibrations up my spine (a very strange sensation). “Go! Go!”

“I love you!” The tall man slipped from my grasp before I could force him to repeat himself - I was left to sit dumbstruck on top of an extremely loud and vibrate-y amp, searching desperately for a light for my cigarette.

“Ville!” I managed to get the brown-haired man’s attention over the ruckus of Jyrki’s band’s playing - they called themselves The 69 Eyes, I reminded myself sharply, it wouldn’t do to forget my boy’s band’s name - and beg for a light for the smoke. He simply handed me his half-smoked fag and instructed me to light off of it. By the time I passed it back, the boys had begun to play their second song of the night.

I found myself on my feet, and made a beeline to a closer spot on the side of the stage, a place where I could lean against a black wall and watch Jyrki throw himself around the stage. In his defense, he didn’t quite throw his body around, he simply ruled the entire thing - if he wanted to pretend his mic stand was a guitar and thrash Bon Jovi-style with Timo and Pasi, then that was alright, if he wanted to swing the stand around like a sword, then that was the coolest thing ever, if he wanted to spin around in a circle smashing his foot against the ground while singing, that was amazing! I couldn’t help but sigh at the reactions of the crowd to Jyrki’s unconscious flirting, it was actually rather difficult to watch. With a sigh, I turned away from the stage and sought out a person who could bring me a drink.

When I finally had a tall glass of Vodka (which I ended up sharing with Ville because it was “payback for the light”), I returned to my amplifier seat, shifting uncomfortably until I decided that - like Hanna and Ville - I could definitely no longer sit on the thing because of the band’s ruckus and moved to the wall I had leaned on before, watching Jyrki like a hawk.

“It’s difficult, isn’t it?” I spun to face Hanna as she shouted into my ear to be heard over the din.

“What?” Oh, so eloquent Sinikka, I reprimanded myself as I let my focus slide back to Jyrki, flirting with the crowd. I knew exactly what she was talking about.

“Watching him work with the crowd.” I nodded; that certain charisma he knew worked so well on me also worked wonders on the horde of gothic girls who rushed the front of the stage - their pulsating mass moved in unison to Jyrki’s lips. A heavy sigh escaped me as I attempted to thwart it with smoke.

“It is. But it’s almost over.” Hanna nodded sagely, a beacon of poise among the chaos onstage and in the crowd; apparently Jussi had tossed himself off the stage after their last song. I selfishly hoped his spiky black hair poked an eye out.

“You just gotta remember that you’re better than all of those girls out there, Sini. You’re the one that he brings home at night.” Her comment elicited the flash of a smile. “Hell, after all of the trouble you put him through?” That mischievous grin made me raise an eyebrow - what the hell did she know that she was going to use to bully me into a harebrained scheme this time? In the background of our little staring contest, Jyrki introduced the last song as he had all of the others.

“This song is for my girlfriend. It’s called Burning Love, by Elvis.”

Mouth agape, I rounded on Ville and Hanna, both of whom were giggling incessantly at my shock; but I didn’t have the heart to let them have a piece of my mind while Jyrki was singing for me. For me!

I could have swooned with satisfaction. Instead, I ordered another drink and prepared myself to receive Jyrki as he ran offstage. Besides, it wouldn’t do to turn into a melty, wishy-washy mess every single time a rock star dedicated a song to me - like it happened that often.