Spice Islands (First Romance Smackdown - LGBT)

Speeding Demons (Part 5)

I looked for him for weeks afterwards, at first a hundred times a day, then gradually less and less as I realised he wasn't coming back.

I moped around, missing him more than I had thought. I tried to keep up the practice as he had taught me but my heart wasn't in it.

Jenna asked me several times what was wrong but I couldn't tell her, I couldn't tell anyone. Who would believe me? I tried to pull myself together for the sake of the band, it wasn't their fault I was feeling miserable.

It must have been a month later that Stefanie appeared, a short flash of wild blond hair above a white tee shirt in the mirror at the Cosmos. At first I thought it was Dylan's reflection, he favoured long blond hair that year, but he was wearing black and it wasn't. It was a stranger. I found my heart already beating faster in anticipation, I was almost certain I had caught a glimpse of a guitar at her side. Maybe the Cosmos was the centre of attraction, some sort of vortex attracting musicians from the underworld. Not me after all. Well it was as good an explanation as any.

I could scarcely wait to get home and see if she would reappear in my bedroom mirror. Was I getting another chance? Another teacher? This time I swore to myself I wouldn't blow it. Besides, it was another girl, a woman. I'd hardly be facing the same problem! I smiled.

I opened my door eagerly, and there she was, torn off denim shorts, guitar in hand, eyes challenging me from the mirror on my wardrobe. I picked up my guitar straight away and soon realised this time was different. Instead of heavy metal and long shreds, this woman was into punk. Still it was all good, variety was the spice of life, right? I was hardly going to complain. Maybe I could persuade the Speeding Demons to work on a punk bracket.

After an exhausting hour, she disappeared to wherever mirror people go and I whipped out my phone to start searching. I assumed that she was dead, like Darrell, so that was my starting point. I had a lot more trouble tracking her down than I did Darrell, but eventually I discovered my new companion was Stefanie Sargent, lead guitarist in an all girl punk band from the 90s, '7 Year Bitch'. She had died in 1992 from a drug and alcohol related episode. Despite that, she looked pretty cool.

It was good, learning from another woman. The body moves were much easier for a start and we seemed to be able to communicate better, with smiles and expressions. Mind you, she was tougher on me than Darrell, she wouldn't stand for any crap, no excuses about tiredness or homework. Just practice, practice and more practice.

I soon stopped bothering to put the sheet over the mirror. I began to think of her as a friend, she was much nearer my own age for one thing, only twenty four when she died. I really wished I could talk to her properly, get to know her as a person, not just as a musician, but there was the same sound barrier between us as there was with Darrell. Music was the only sound to penetrate through the mirror.

It took me a while to realise she had begun to look at me with more than friendly affection. Okay, so maybe I wasn't quite as street smart as I thought I was, but honestly, it simply hadn't occurred to me that she was gay. Wikipedia had left that part out of her bio.

If the whole situation hadn't been so peculiar I might have started thinking I was the hottest thing since Demi Lovato. As it was, it didn't seem to me that either Darrell or Stefanie had much choice. As far as I could tell, I was the only person they could communicate with. It hardly seemed fair.

Stefanie was watching me, watching her, watching me realise she fancied me.

She tossed her hair out of her eyes, gave me a sexy smile and placed her hand against the mirror, fingers spread, inviting me to do the same.

I put my hand up on the mirror, my fingers matching hers. For a moment I thought I could feel her, as if our fingers had melted through the glass. I pressed harder. Yes. I was certain I could feel the pressure of her hand against mine. Not exactly skin against skin, but ... something. I smiled back.

(Author's Note - This is the end of Speeding Demons, a new short commences on the next page )