Lou licked his swollen lip and winced, hurting. And I want to drink. I moved my fingers on my hands. I looked at the ripped knuckles. The bones are whole, that's okay. I touched a simple leather bean with a large bead. Goosebumps ran down my skin.
It's already dawned, most likely, he missed the plane. With a sigh, I rolled over the hard hotel bed, searched for a mobile, looked at the time - so it is, late. Fuck... I didn't really want to fly away. Live, though, too. The mobile was sluggish, but Luis shut it up. Not her. So, I don't care who is calling or why. Just don't care. Everything that happened yesterday was in front of my eyes in a series of pictures.
A small, cozy, smoky club, barely half full. A small scene. Inexpensive equipment. Someone is playing something there... How good it is that you can smoke! He lights cigarettes one from the other, and his fingers squeezing a glass of whiskey still twitch slightly. She's gone until she arrived.
Louis seems to have finally snapped. Hundreds of miles from home, alone in a completely unfamiliar country. Okay, I was smart enough to check in with a local travel agency. Met at the airport, settled in a hotel. They helped me to orient myself, to get to the club. Fortunately, at least the waitresses here speak English.
Lou chooses a darker corner. The last thing I want now is for someone from the local public to recognize him. You can't fight back later... It wasn't then that he drove that far. Deep down, Luis hopes he won't like her. Disappoint. That he would see her and that's it, a veil out of sight. And that morbid crush will evaporate like a nightmare.
Thank God, those on stage finish playing and remove instruments. There is a pause and in this silence he clearly hears her voice. He recognizes him from hundreds of others... Boiling water spilled under the heart splashes, giving birth to a tsunami. He is thrown into the heat. He knocks over the remains of his temple in a gulp and exhales. He inhales, as before jumping into the water, and turns his head.
And — nothing. No veil falls. And only the heart accelerates like abnormal and pounds so that it seems that now the ribs are broken. She's welcome, she's being hugged, kissed... Friends, acquaintances, fans. With her appearance, the public in the club increases. She smiles and dimples appear on her cheeks, making her look like a little girl.
Lou watches fascinated as she walks towards the stage, leisurely undressing, leaving her shoes at the very edge, at the speakers. On the ankle is a thin lace with a couple of bells and they gently rattle as she walks back and forth, adjusting the microphone stand to her short stature. This barefootness makes her so open and defenseless that Louis takes her breath away.
Musicians are rebuilt right on stage. That seems to be the custom here. However, this does not last long, and after the first chords, he finally hears her voice ... The audience pulls closer to the stage. Part sits directly on the floor, forming a kind of amphitheater. Lou does the same thing, trying to sit as close as she can so she can see him. As a result of simple maneuvers, he is as close as possible.
It's such a forgotten feeling to be on this side... Listen, not sing. Catch the eye, not circle the human mass raging below. What she's doing, Louis doesn't understand. It's some kind of shamanism. Just hypnotizing this motley, shaggy, pierced crowd. They sit and watch her every gesture like rabbits... The voice is gentle, like the ringing of her bells, then heats up to desperate shouts. Despair and sadness – almost all of her songs are permeated with them.
Look at me... Look, oh please... Look, sweetheart... Lou mentally repeats it so passionately, he wants it so much... She conjures them. He is hers. And when her gaze stops on him a little longer than on those around him, he smiles back, dying of happiness.
In between songs, she looks at the palm of her hand and Luis realizes that she has the order of the songs recorded there. So childish. Like the dimples on the cheeks. And long, almost doll-like eyelashes. In the light of the spotlights, tiny wrinkles are noticeable in the corners of the oblong green eyes, and only they, and some special gaze turned deep into oneself, betray her real age.
She whispers. Just a little bit. This is noticeable when she sings whistling sounds. This unexpected discovery pleases Lou, as if he had found a treasure. He likes her more and more. And everything in it, every little thing, too.
Sitting on the hard floor hurts his skinny ass, but it's such that he hardly pays attention to it.
Alas, the fairy tale ends, as always, too quickly. She thanks the audience — Louis understands that. The sounds of music freeze. Musicians cover their instruments. Lou remembers the armful of roses forgotten on the table. The most common roses. Blood Red. Spiked. No smooth stems, to hell with them... Thanks to the travel agency, and they helped with this. It's good that he even remembered that women love flowers... You have to love.
Mentally, he imagined this moment a thousand times. Imagined, lost, rehearsed... And in fact, all she had the courage to do was put the flowers at her feet while she was putting on her shoes. And mutter:
— Hi, I am Louie*...
She looks in amazement at the armful of roses at her feet, then at him. Smiling. Greets. He says his name. And he apologizes for not speaking much English.
The desperation that let Lou out of his clutches rolls in again. How so?! How is that possible? The whole world already speaks this fucking English, but not her! And he wanted to tell her so much, ask her so much...
He unceremoniously catches the waitress running by by the hand and literally demands that she translate everything he says. She listens, nods, smiles. Then he replies something to the waitress.
- She says that she is very pleased to meet you, she would be happy to chat, but, alas, she is in a hurry.
Louis hurriedly hands her the card - there are all the contacts.
"Call me... or write. If you want to, of course...
She looks at him, raising her curved eyebrows in surprise. He must have a completely stupid, loving, puppy look... Then it is decided to untie one of its baubles. She has a lot of them, almost to her elbows. Ties do not lend themselves and she helps herself with her teeth. Makes an impatient gesture, demanding that he reach out. Quickly ties a bauble around his wrist, thickly covered with a tattoo. As her fingers touch her skin, Lou winces.
Then she leaves. And he stays. With a huge emptiness inside, as if everything he felt, she took with her. All he has to do is fill that void with alcohol.
At the bar, he is finally identified by some local post-hardcore lover. Half an hour later, Louis's eyes ripple from faces, hands, glasses. And then... it's business as usual. Someone said something wrong... Or he's just on a roll, with twisted nerves... Fight... a broken lip, blood that he spits on the floor. Someone screams, someone steals...
Taxi, hotel room... Shower, at first warm, then ice, so that the skin is covered with sharp pimples and the tooth does not fall on the tooth. He's not drunk at all, not the way he wanted to, at least. And after water procedures, it is impossible to fall asleep at all.
He scrolls through in his head every second she was in... How beautiful she is... Now he wants her even more. Somewhere in this city, she's now lying in bed... Maybe not just one... And someone touches her body, her hair, caresses her... Kisses swollen lips... But it could... it has to be him! Jealousy, love, passion, despair – this bitter cocktail fills it to the brim. Lou feels the excitement build up. He bites his teeth on the bauble she gave, touches it with his tongue. It hurts. My lip was blown apart. Such a welcome pain. Leads his hand down his wet flat stomach. Closes his eyes. Well, it's not the first time he's...
*Hi, I'm Louie.
- Hi :) Do you remember me? You left me a card. Here, decide to write.- Of course I remember :) Hello! Very happy... I waited.- Really?- Of course! (God, you'd know how! Two weeks! Two weeks of hell! Fourteen days, and each with twenty-four hours of waiting and endlessly hanging out on social media!)- I'm here to read about you on the Internet, you are a star, it turned out :) Love the latest album – cool! I listen now all the days. Sorry if you don't understand that I'm writing — it's a translator."And I listen to your songs. Don't apologize for you!I was told there was a fight. Are you okay?- Yes, nonsense. Already healed, don't worry :) (God, she's worried! she's wondering like I am!)"What were you doing in our city?"- I wanted to look at you... hear live. (I wanted to fuck you! Pull the fucking mother off your clothes and slowly walk in, looking straight into your eyes. Feel what kind of person you are... How you moan with pleasure, how you bend towards you when you. As t
He woke up because his arm was terribly numb. Just died. Lou tried to move it. It didn't work. He turned his head and understood why. Some maiden was sniffling on his shoulder, scattering dark hair on the pillow. Deuce... I wonder, and who is it? Although, what difference does it make?! It's not Keith. That will do. Annoyance and excruciating shame covered Lou, and immediately a viscous headache joined them. It was supposed to be so fucked up yesterday and listen to these assholes, and be in bed fucking-knows-with-who... Cheat on her with some first woman she meets...He gently shoved the girl in the shoulder:- Hey... Wake up.She just sleepily muttered something in response and rolled over to the other side. Louis hurriedly pulled out his unconscious hand and tried to move his fingers. Blood, running through the veins, stabbed them with needles. He looked at the palm where Kitty's stylized cat skull was impaled. Hello, Kitty... I cheated on you. And Keith. Or yourself in the first p
Flashes... in front of my eyes, in my head, in my stomach... Spots, shots, sweet jolts... Her moist, swollen lips, light moans, a lingering look from under half-lowered eyelashes, a shudder running through her stomach... Her heart fills the room with a bell ringing. Lou is ready to sell his soul to the devil for the opportunity to be there, on the other side of the screen, next to her... He does not take his eyes off, catches every movement of her body... The pleasure grows, reaches some unreal, crazy peak. He never imagined that it could be like this...He was embarrassed, not deftly undressing under her intent, studying gaze. All the ability to behave in front of the camera, all the experience of filming gave way to the modest eye of the webcam. He is skinny, it seems to him that from the whole body he has only elbows, knees and tattoos. How can she like it? But she says - beautifully, and asks to show everything, using a completely indecent word. Where did you hear it?! It's exciti
Louis pressed his forehead against the cool glass. The bus trembled on the move and this vibration was given in the whole body. He just called Kit, but she didn't answer. Maybe on stage... or already sleeping... or just busy... But I really wanted to talk. Hear her voice. Their conversations, of course ... Lou says something in Russian, she laughs, corrects. In English, he has to build phrases as if he is communicating with a small child. And she doesn't understand half of it. And yet, wonderful. Without another dose of this dope, Louis missed.The guys were still awake, but no one was in Lou's room. Everyone was already aware of his great love and high suffering. And since he is sitting - eyebrows with a house, sadness in his eyes - the girl does not pick up his phone. And it's better not to joke about it. For some reason, Sparks' sense of humor at such moments completely leaves.Louis was more sad, then took a picture of his sour face and sent it to her. Let him see how bad he is wi
After finishing the autograph session, Louis decided that now he could relax, hide Kit's small hand in his and dump away from everyone. But it was not there. They didn't want to let them go. Especially after he finally took his beloved by the hand. Flashes, microphones under the nose:Is this your new girlfriend?- How did you meet?- How long have you been together?- What is her name?“Tell me, does Lou have a tattoo on his penis?” (this is Keith).She laughed in response, and then said:Yes, and not alone!And stuck out her middle finger at the aimed cameras.Louis admired the compliment and Kit's resourcefulness, quickly and almost politely kicked out stupid questions and whispered in her ear:- We're running. And they won't leave...Jeff, the clever one, took the fire, and they quietly crawled back, dived into some passage, turned another and another, crawled under some structures and ended up in a field behind the stage. Technicians, quarreling, slowly dismantled the equipment.
“Kitty is a kitten, we have to go…” Louis decided to say, touching her hair with his lips. They had several hours to sack this city, and the time was running out. Kit sighed, lifted her head, muttered something in Russian, and dropped it back. It could be “yes, of course”, “I don’t want to go anywhere” or “go to hell” - his choice. She was, of course, tired because of the night flight and the sex marathon they had arranged. Lou, too, would gladly send everything away and would not get out of this bed for another year. But - it is necessary. It is necessary, it is necessary, it is necessary ... Jeff already called, sarcastically wondering where the devils are.Lou kissed her again and stroked her back.“Baby, wake up… You’ll sleep on the bus, okay?”When Keith, in response to his question, for how many days she flew in, raised her fingers spread out, he squeaked like a youngster at the sight of Justin Bieber: “Will you go somnoyKit?!She nodded.Five days! For five whole days! Lou tho
There were six of them, these baubles-notches, on Louis' hand when she said she would leave him. And nine when he decided to get rid of them.After a few wonderful days together on the tour bus, Lou yearned for Kit to death. Lived from call to call, from sms to emoticons in Skype. The rest of the events were a foggy annoying background.As soon as he had free time, he immediately flew to her. Kitsune met him at the airport. Lou almost ate it on the way home in a taxi. The driver looked sideways in the rear-view mirror and grinned. He didn't give a fuck... he inhaled the scent of her body and shook with passion. They barely made it to her door. The shaggy red dog Kitty only barked in surprise and was immediately sent to the kitchen.The sex was fast, greedy, hard. Tenderness will be ... later ... but for now - to drink each other in one gulp, choking ... Kit scratched his back, the stripes from the nails burned. And bit her lip. Louis felt the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. And t
He cuts the lettuce. Drives a knife along the green elastic stems. No thoughts in my head, no sensations inside. Or does it just seem so? He's so drunk that he can't feel his fingertips. They were numb. What the hell is he cutting? Forgot. Probably it should be.Baubles Whale. Dangling on the wrist. One, two, three... Nine. He may not count. Knows exactly. He remembers how she tied - fastened each of them. He remembers every meeting from the first to the last second. There was another one, the tenth ... Instead of a bauble, he received something else. Instead of a commemorative notch - a fat dot. All. End. Finish. Apocalypse.He looks at them and realizes that he intensely hates these harmless trinkets. It's like notes from heaven, pages from the diary of happiness, which are pinned to your chest with hefty nails before they kick you in the ass. So that when you fry in a damn frying pan, you, bitch, do not forget for a second how happy you once were.That's right... gotta get rid of t