tried to listen so hard that I could disappear inside of the music. I knew that something fundamental had changed today, that nothing would ever be the same again. I felt so empty inside. Everything I knew had been taken away from me, everything that seemed so solid, and real, and warm . . . I realized that there were no guarantees in this world. Who or what could I trust in anymore? I turned the volume up, more and more, until the music was so loud and powerful that it battered against my ears and there was nothing to do but give myself up to it, surrender to it. I wanted the music to make this terrible, empty feeling go away. When I concentrated on the music hard enough, the fear and the loneliness disappeared. I was in a place where there was nothing but the music. Just the pounding, glorious, primal beat of the drums, the dizzying roar of the electric guitar. . .
As the last note rang out across the Universal Amphitheater, the lights began to go up, signaling that this really was the end of the show and there would be no more encores. My whole body was vibrating with an energy that felt like the aftermath of being struck by lightning. All of a sudden we were bathed in the fluorescent glow of the houselights, and we saw each other again—a sea of kids, bathed in sweat, makeup cracked and running down our faces, the smell of stale marijuana smoke and spilled beer everywhere . . .
I didn’t want it to be over.
I realized that the rest of these kids would be content now to go home, resume their lives, having let out a little of the pressure that had been building inside of them. Now they were not afraid that their skulls were just going to blow apart like a forgotten World War II land mine. But not me! I knew that this would never be enough: I needed more than that. I looked toward the stage, where people were reaching out to the roadies as they pulled away the wires on the stage, begging for a memento, a torn fragment of a set list, any smidgen of tonight at all to take away and keep.
But mementos were not enough for me. Even Daddy’s water stains would fade away over time. I didn’t want to go back to my lonely, ordinary reality. I wanted something more . . .
That night I was changed, altered in some profound way, and I knew that I would never be the same again. Marie and Paul could not see it as we headed back to the car . . . I felt totally different from what I had been before. Even when I was back at home, wiping away the remains of my makeup in the bathroom mirror, I could not see any physical manifestations of this change. But I could sense it, a glow inside of me that was growing with each passing moment.
Was this what all of those religious types were talking about when they said they had been born again? I guess that must be it. All I knew was that something was going to happen, and it was going to happen soon.
I could sense it!
Chapter 2
Rebel, Rebel
Oh jeez, Cherie. Seriously . . . Mom is gonna kill you!”
My sister was half laughing as she said this. I rolled my eyes and mimed “whatever” at her. I was chewing gum as I stared at myself in the mirror. I pursed my lips and exhaled, and a large pink bubble formed, growing, growing, growing, until it popped.
I was fifteen years old, and back then my life consisted of rock concerts and hanging out in coolest nightclubs in Hollywood. Specifically the Sugar Shack and Rodney Bingenheimer’s English Disco.
And today, with my horrified sister’s help, I was dying my hair red, white, and blue.
“Very patriotic.” My sister laughed when I told her what I wanted her to do. “But it ain’t the Fourth of July. It’s only May!”
“I’m serious. Are you gonna help me, or what? I can’t do it by myself . . .”
Marie started mocking me in a whiny voice: “I can’t do it myself, Marie!” I scowled at her, but she did get up off the chair and led the way
Cornelia Amiri (Celtic Romance Queen)