Diving Into The Wreck

Tired of Sex

Nobody would believe me if I told this to my friends at Egmont, but when I was sixteen, I had blue hair, and I played the bass in a crunkcore band called The Love Martyrs. All throughout the summer before my junior year of high school, Blake and I would play at any venue that would put up with our questionable fashion sense and Auto-Tuned vocals. We weren't exactly popular in the area, but we did have a small group of devoted local fans, and even better, there were girls in Japan who were crazy for the Love Martyrs. For two teenagers playing dress-up, we were doing pretty well for ourselves.

When school started again, Blake and I were determined to keep The Love Martyrs going, so our manager booked us a show at a local club on the day before my junior year started. The show itself wasn't anything special, but it was what happened afterwards that changed everything.

"THANK YOU, CLEVELAND!" Blake screamed into the microphone as we played our last chord, as if we were on a huge world tour and not playing a barely-advertised local show. Nevertheless, the girls in the crowd squealed at the top of their lungs as I ran over to the fog machine and switched it off. I wasn't sure exactly when we had decided that switching the fog machine on and off during our shows was my job, but over time, it had become a habit.

I never read the liner notes on The Love Martyrs EP, but if I read them now, I wouldn't be surprised if they read "Dani Blue - bass and fog machine, Blayyke Pink - everything else."

Once the fog cleared, I looked out into the crowd. I recognized some of the girls in the front row from previous shows, but others were new. I definitely knew the girl closest to Blake, although I couldn't remember whether her name was Jen or Lynn. All of the girls had started to blur together, but I was sure that Blake had brought Jen/Lynn backstage before. I wondered if he would do it again.

Once the cheers died down, Blake walked offstage, and I followed him, carrying my bass, which I had decorated with silver sparkles. "I thought that went really well," he said once we were both backstage.

"Me too," I said, and it was true. Both of us had played in time with the loud, synthesized backing tracks, but then again, most of the fans weren't there for the music. It was Blake's performance that drew them in, the way that he screamed and rapped and danced like there was no tomorrow. I was up there with him, and even I found it hypnotic.

"Your bass playing was great today, Dani," Blake said.

"Thanks," I said. "I've been practicing."

"I can tell. You just need to do a better job of making it look effortless."

"I don't think anyone's even paying attention to me, Blake."

Blake laughed and gave me a pat on the head. "Of course they're paying attention to you," he said.

I wasn't so sure about that, but I wasn't sure if I wanted all of those people to pay attention to me anyways. I was fine with the girls in the audience staring at Blake's ridiculously flippy hot pink hair and neon green hoodie. I never minded being in the background, even when the simple fact that I was in a crunkcore band made it impossible to blend in sometimes.

"Hey Blake, I have a few questions for you," I said.

"What is it?"

"Are you going to drive me to school again this year?"

Blake laughed. "Dani, I'm out of school now. If I can avoid it, I'm never going to William McKinley High School ever again." I could understand that, but I still groaned and rolled my eyes. "I'm sorry, Dani," Blake added, but he didn't sound like he meant it.

"Are you going to invite that girl backstage?" I asked, wondering if I should leave before the groupies started showing up.

"Which girl?" Blake asked.