DAMAGED

KAT

It was disconcerting to know someone like myself. Court ran, when it made sense and when it didn't. We needed space. I needed to focus. Glitter Punch had to play tonight so there was no possibility that I could chase him, ask him why he looked like a ghost. It was a struggle to even care but even more so not too. I ignored the impulse to follow and took my coffee back up to my room. I set it down with the book next to the stack I had purchased this morning. It pained me to that admit that I felt like less than Court, even the intelligence caught in the ink that wound around his body intimidated me. I wasn't used to feeling like less on any other level than an emotional one. That was a level I had spent years putting myself on. I lay back on the lump of sheets, closing my eyes for a moment. They smelled of us. I leaned over the bed and reached for my phone. There were two missed calls, one an unknown number and the other was a number I saw once a week since I had turned twenty-one. I deleted the voicemail without listening.

I looked tired in the mirror, the circles dark beneath my eyes. I smeared the makeup on, careful to cover the light almost invisible freckle line that stretched across the bridge of my nose. I messed up my wet hair not caring what shape or style it formed. At the end of the day it would be flat and choppy no matter what. My skin itched in retaliation against the tights, black silhouettes of cats above my knees. My black skirt two inches from just being a bandeau top I had jerked down to my hips. I bent down to pull the laces tight on my docs, it was too hot for docs but it was a uniform and these were the shoes. My tank top hung loose playing peek-a-boo with my bra. When I walked through the crowds I was uncomfortable but on the stage I could have been clothed from head to toe in a sack I cared so little. It had been weeks since I dressed the part but Texas was too hot for skinny jeans. I sent a group text to the band so we could strategize pre-show.

"Hey Harp." She turned around and inwardly I cringed. Her eyes were red rimmed, her face melting in the sun. She just pointed to her face and said nothing. I grimaced as I saw that Johnny was in the same condition. Jimmy was walking around with his phone pressed to his ear but his face seemed clear of any symptoms of a cold. I stood away from the plague carriers and tried to decide what to do, how I could sort out the set list so she had to do less. Johnny had the same amount of work either way. I could at least relieve her of her singing parts or places she harmonized with me, her throaty growls out of the question. I waited for Jimmy to get off the phone, he was my ally this show.

"So what's up Kat? Should we toss some stuff out and replace that shit?" I nodded, my mouth pursed in concentration.

"Lets throw out the whole damn set list. We can do four or five of our songs and a few covers. We need something though to punch it up or we will get booed out of the whole goddamn state. Go see if Will wants to pop in on us." It came natural, the issuing of commands and thinking on my feet. Group homes and foster jumping taught me to be ready for change. The world at large underestimated kids that grew up like me, thought we couldn't handle the weight on our beat down shoulders and broken spines. I looked back and forth between Johnny and Harper and waited for Jimmy to come back.

"Did it ever occur to you guys that after you shared the flu last winter you might want to halt on the bodily fluid exchange whenever one of you got sick?" My question wasn't met with answers, just wide eyes and open mouths. They really hadn't known I knew. I rolled my eyes and walked away to look for Joe. I saw Casey's grim face round the corner with his shoulders slouched. His aggressive voice reaching out past the phone call he was taking. Court stood off in the distance lighting one cigarette off another. I ignored the discord and sought out Joe's shaggy salt and pepper head in the general milling of the bands.

"Hey Kat, Will said he's down. We can just play that Ramones number we played a few shows back. All good on this front, can you believe those two? Sick as dogs and still think they are a secret."