Louder Than Thunder

The girls spent the days between concerts shopping and exploring the city. A couple nights later, they had another show. Mid-way during the day, the girls began coordinating their look for the evening. Mary ordered room service and returned to the suitcase sitting on the bed.
“Where did Darlene go, anyways?” Michelle asked, taking a black pleated skirt out of her bag and laying it out on the bed.
“Well, erm, believe it or not, she went out with Eric.”
“What, like a date?”
“I don’t know.”
“We’ll just ‘ave to decide for her then.”
“What’d I say about drummers, though? They go together well. Darlene and Eric are probably bonding over beer as we speak.”
“Yeah, probably.”
Michelle lifted Darlene’s bag onto the bed and began searching through her clothes as well. A knock came to the door and Michelle answered it, taking the sandwiches they had ordered for lunch. She thanked the bellboy as the tray was dropped off on their table.
“What about these?” Mary asked, holding up a black shift dress with white trim on the neck and hem.
“Oh, that’s right.”
Michelle pulled out her similar dress, which was red with black trim, and then pulled out Darlene’s, which was green with orange trim.
“Yeah, these’ll do.”
They laid the dresses out on the bed and packed away the rest, and ate their lunch. Darlene burst through the door as they finished up.
“Hey, guys!”
“Wonderful. Drunk before lunch is over,” Michelle said, taking the last bite of her sandwich.
“Darlene, we have a slightly earlier show tonight; we need to start getting’ ready.”
“Oh, that’s right, about the show,” Darlene began, slurring her words. “Eric and I are going to have a drum battle tonight. I have been challenged and I will not back down!”
She raised a fist, slamming it down on the other.
“Darlene, I don’t think we could handle that right now. Let’s just play the show, okay?”
“Nonsense! My honour will be smeershed!”
“What honour?” Michelle joked, staring down into a glass of water.
Mary smiled slyly, and turned back to Darlene.
“Look, this is what we’re wearing tonight,” she said, tossing Darlene her brightly coloured dress.
“Groovy,” she said as she proceeded to remove her t-shirt and bell-bottoms and toss each one on the bed.
She slipped the dress on quickly. She probably couldn’t have handled anything more complicated than a dress.
“What shoes?”
“We’re giving you that freedom,” Mary said as she slipped on her white go-go boots.
Darlene took one of her saddle shoes and tied it on in a sloppy knot, and then reached for her white Chelsea boots.
When Michelle noticed her having trouble, she bent down in front of her to help. She retied the saddle shoes, and then looked over to the Chelsea boot.
“You really wanna wear one of each?”
“Yeah,” she drifted off, looking down between both shoes. “Yeah, this looks cool.”
“Alright,” Michelle said, standing up with her hands held out, not prepared to argue with someone who that drunk.
Mary went to teasing her hair in front of the mirror, using hairspray on separate sections to create her usual bump.
“Okay, let us away!” Darlene said, pointing into the air like a SuperGirl.
“Ready, Mary?”
“Yeah, just one more bit ‘ere,” she said, combing gently through the top layer of her hair. “Okay, let’s go. Paul said he’d meet us downstairs today.

Later at the venue, which was much newer, cleaner and sturdier than the last one they played – although admittedly lesser known – the two drummers set up their drums beside each other on the stage between the Rag Dolls’ and the Leatherjackets’ sets.
“I can’t believe they’re doing this,” Mary whispered.
“They’re still drunk,” Michelle whispered back.
“True.”
The manager of the club introduced both the drummers and gave rules for the drum battle.
“Each drummer will get a turn, starting with one minute and then doubling after each turn, to play a solo. The first drummer to get booed off the stage loses, the remaining drummer wins.”
“Ol’ Eric better win,” Keith mumbled to Kurt, who was standing with Mary and Michelle off at the side of the stage.
Kurt didn’t reply. He just looked back towards the stage, waiting to see what happened. Michelle turned back to see him. Kurt noticed her looking up at him. She stepped back so that she could speak to him.
“Does it matter to you who wins, Kurt?” she asked.
He shrugged, looking down at her wistfully.
“You don’t like all this fighting though, right?”
“Not really,” he said.
His soft-spoken voice was barely there. Michelle smiled up at him and he smiled back down. He had a sad sort of look to him - sort of like he was always somewhere else. Where he went, however, was impossible to say. He looked so young and impressionable. Fact is, he must have been at least a year older than them, same as Sidney.
“Good man, Kurt.”
The battle started then. They tossed a coin and Eric started the battle. He played the first short solo, one minute filled with a beat and fills where they made sense. Darlene followed a similar pattern, just to get things started. They saved the complicated stuff for the longer solos.
After a few rounds, it was easy to see that Darlene was getting tired. Eric had the advantage of not having worn himself out yet since the Leatherjackets went on after. Still, Darlene put up a fight. One that was good enough to hold on until Eric’s drunkenness couldn’t be hidden, causing him to mess up entirely and lose his beat. Darlene went on one last turn, her eight minute turn, and blew the audience’s mind. She played so hard that she tore right into her kick drum. Eric was booed off-stage.
“Nice goin’ against ya, then. That was some good playin’,” Eric said, shaking Darlene’s hand in a friendly manner, previously unseen by Mary and Michelle.
“What was that about?” Mary asked her as she came off stage.
“What do you mean?” Darlene asked.
“I mean that handshake. Are you friends?”
“Yeah, why? It’s alright.”
“In fact, it’s great. I’m proud of you, making friends out of enemies Darlene,” Michelle said, patting her on the shoulder.
“Thanks, mommy,” Darlene joked
The Leatherjackets went on stage as they spoke and the whole audience cheered the most powerful cheer the girls had ever heard. It was the cheer of being the main act. They stayed on to watch the first song they played, which was their first song to ever receive radio play.
It was easy to see why the group was successful. They had an odd dynamic, which gave them an interesting look. Eric was bashing away at the drums, cymbals vibrating and flying from side to side. It was snare and crash heavy and an easily enjoyable beat. Kurt stood gangly, awkward in his height, strumming the extremely low-slung bass. He didn’t move much and mostly watched Eric and Keith for direction. Sidney stood calm, looking out into the audience as he played complicated riffs as though they were nothing to be flashy about. Keith’s strumming was half-assed but he gave a good vocal performance. He had a screamed voice, just like you’d hear in the mod clubs. It suited the music. Keith was the ‘voice.’

The next day, Paul took the girls out to the nearest music store to buy Darlene a new kick drum head. Michelle looked around at all the shiny guitars, admiring the colours, pickups, wood and what sounds they made. Mary wouldn’t look at any other basses. She loved her Rickenbacker.
Darlene and Paul were haggling with one of the store workers.
“I still don’t understand how Darlene even ended up hanging out with Eric,” Michelle said.
“You’re ‘appy though, right?”
“Of course, it’s just weird.”
“Says the girl who started speaking to Kurt for no apparent reason. Says the girl who was out in the hallway with Sidney for no apparent reason.”
“No one ever talks to Kurt and he seems so sweet. I felt bad for ‘im. He’s a nice guy.”
“Kurt doesn’t exactly talk to anyone else either.”
“And Sidney, well, he writes the songs. He gets me.”
“What does that mean? You spoke to him probably all of five minutes.”
“Songwriters just get each other, I dunno.”
Mary just chuckled at Michelle and watched as she picked up a guitar gave it a strum. She turned the tuning key slightly and strummed it again.
“So, you like him then, right?”
“I dunno.”
Just then, Darlene and Paul returned with a shiny new kick drum in hand.
“I thought you were just buying the head,” Michelle said to her.
“Well, we’ve got a little more money coming in, so we figure we might as well invest in something a little newer. It’ll last longer too.”
“Alright.”
“Anyways, what were you talking about?”
“Just about how Michelle fancies Sid.”
“I don’t fancy him; he’s just a nice guy.”
“Alright.”
With that, they purchased the drum and got a ride back to the hotel. Darlene carried the kick drum up the elevator and put it away in her old case, where it fit perfectly.
“I’m kinda hungry. I’m gonna go buy something downstairs,” Michelle told them.
“Okay, see you later,” Darlene replied as she closed up the case.
Michelle took every step down the stairs leisurely, not in a rush to be among others again. Her dominant introverted side took over, allowing her to take joy in her aloneness. She arrived in the main lobby and exited out the main doors into the rainy New York day. She hugged her coat to her as she walked over to the corner store.
She entered and shook her pea coat off, and then her hair. She walked over to the snack section, looking for something to temporarily fulfill her appetite. The first things to catch her eyes were coke. She grabbed a cold glass bottle, condensation forming on the bottle as it came in contact with the warmer air in the store. She shook off her wet hands and began walking over to the snack section, when someone’s eyes caught hers.
Sidney had been a few rows down by the newspapers and magazines, flipping through a guitar magazine. He had just looked up at that minute and saw her notice him. She smiled and decided to walk over to him.
“Hey. What are you doing ‘ere?” she asked, looking down at the magazine he had picked up and then back into his watchful eyes.
“Just passing time. What about you?”
“Hungry,” she admitted.
“Well then, I’ll let you get back to that.”
Michelle gave a contemplative look and was prepared to do just that, when a thought crossed her mind which made her change it.
“Do you wanna hang out?”
He looked up at her with his dark puppy dog eyes. She felt awkward now. As though he had nothing like that on his mind. She was slightly eased when he shrugged and replaced the magazine.
“Here, I’ll have a coke too. And I’ll buy.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“No, I want to.”
Michelle knew what he meant by it as he smiled warmly. She returned an understanding look.