GETTING OLDER HAD been the least of Lindy's problems in life, but as she stood in front of the mirror in she and Kurt's bedroom, she wondered if perhaps being almost middle-aged gave her a limit as to what outfits she could wear.
Aware of the generally accepted dress code at Neumos, she'd elected to slip into a black pair of jeans and an equally black, long-sleeved shirt that dipped into a pretty v-neck. Even her heeled boots were black, leaving Lindy with little doubt as to what her favorite color was.
She had not ever worn this kind of clothing in her younger years, but once Lindy had left her twenties, she'd begun to appreciate a sexier edge of style. It did wonders for her confidence and seemed to appeal especially to Kurt.
It didn't dawn on Lindy that she'd truly adopted a change of taste until Charlie had come home one day, complaining that his friends called Lindy 'hot' and had all insisted that she was 'absolutely doable.'
Their comments hadn't flattered Lindy — in fact, they'd made her feel like vomiting in her mouth — but it did mark the first time that she noticed others becoming highly invested in her physical appearance.
"Incredibly alluring," Frances declared as Lindy came down the stairs. "A ten out of ten. You look like a witchy biker chick who preys on the souls of those who have wronged her."
"That's the first time I've been called that, so thanks," Lindy laughed. "Are we all riding together?"
"Yep. Well, just you, me and Dad. He's in the car now, waiting for us."
Frances and Lindy walked outside, hearing music blaring from inside of Kurt's old Dart. With a lot of maintenance, he'd been able to keep his baby blue Dodge alive. It struggled to push any speed past fifty-five, but Kurt didn't speed anyways, so it worked out.
Lindy got into the passenger seat, catching Kurt's attention. He had his window rolled down, a cigarette between his fingers and smoke curling from his nose as he exhaled. He smiled.
"You look much too beautiful to actually be real."
Lindy ran her hand through her waves of brown hair, still having refused to cut it with each passing year. She'd always loved her long hair.
"Still got the same old charm, don't you?"
They drove into downtown Seattle, Frances recounting the recent events in her life and explaining her idea for a new piece of artwork. Lindy watched in the rearview mirror as Frances used her hands as she spoke, the creativity within her mind pouring out into her verbal thoughts. She got on the subject of a potential interview regarding her art, which inevitably led to talk of the Rolling Stone article.
"I want to talk to this online visual art blog, but the last interview I gave . . ." Frances trailed off. Lindy watched as her jaw locked, reminding Lindy so much of the way Kurt looked when he did the same.
"I knew you'd be just as unhappy as the rest of us," Lindy sighed. Kurt's fingers had tightened on the steering wheel.
"Unhappy doesn't begin to describe how I feel about it," Frances said tersely. "They wronged him in such a public, terrible way."
"Fuck them. We shouldn't talk about it anymore. Not on his birthday," Kurt contended firmly, a flash of irritation crossing his face.
"His birthday has already been manipulated and taken over by Liam," Frances retorted with a great roll of her eyes. "I wish he could see that."
"What do you mean?" Lindy asked, concerned as she turned fully around in her seat to face Frances.
"Don't you guys think it's strange that Charlie's birthday event was advertised to the public? That tickets were sold for what was meant to be a private show for his family and friends?" Frances pressed, looking between them both apprehensively.
