Work Text:
The scent of sandalwood always reminded her of the soft eyed girl she loved more than she thought she ever possibly could. After all, years and years of boyfriends, both steady and not, led her to believe she knew all of the levels and degrees of love. The truth in love and love in truth. Enough so that the songs she wrote practically dripped with the knowledge - everything from the first blush of puppy love to the deep reaches of soulmates. At least she thought she understood all the shades of love.
But she had been wrong. In fact, no word in the world existed that encompassed how very wrong she was. Which felt kind of fun, really. Not finding the right word once in a while pushed the envelope.
She pushed the envelope. Kimber never thought twice about the blue-haired member of the rival band at first. She was a Misfit. That was all that mattered. One of Eric’s little pets, one of the sneaky musicians out to ruin her life, one of the… Well, bitches.
Then, at yet another of the almost weekly (for the love of God, make them stop) Battle of the Bands, the Holograms stood in the wings, waiting for the Misfits to finish and, for the first time, she listened - really listened. Behind the whine of Pizzazz’s voice and the overly aggressive riffs of Roxy’s guitar, a thread of something else ran, pure and beautiful and utterly different and true. She edged closer to the stage, just barely still in the wings, and strained her ears. There. Her searching ears and searching eyes found Stormer and there, then, bam. It was like finding a diamond in a pile of glitzy cubic zirconia. Her breath caught in her lungs and she listened as hard as she could.
It didn’t even matter that Pizzazz violently pushed past her after the set was over, that Roxy said something incredibly rude. She met Stormer’s eyes, blue as blue, and gave her the secret speaking smile - from one musician to another. The other woman had colored slightly beneath her garish make-up. Then the moment was over and she was on stage.
She never forgot that absolute true-ness in Stormer’s sound. She listened for it on the radio plays of the rival band’s songs in her room at night. She made notes of it. She even managed to get a cassette tape and kept it in the drawer with her diary. It felt a bit like a dirty secret and she found that she hated the feeling. It was like lying. But not lying to Jerrica and the other girls, no. It was like lying to Stormer and, considering they had never exchanged more than a dozen words with each other, that bit of weirdness made Kimber squirm with annoyance.
Many, many weeks later, she had the chance to say something and, despite her own stupidity and Stormer’s shy reserve, she did and it worked and their music made her warm all through. It kept her warm, too. Just like Stormer’s arms around her.
Kimber sighed and reached for the phone. She missed Stormer. To hell with what their bandmates thought. When something was true, you could not deny it and nothing was ever going to be more true than her heart in Stormer’s hand.