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"Hey, kid, before you go. You should check this out." Kimber's date, John-or-something says in passing. He produces a cassette tape from the inside of his sleeve. One look and she wants to throw it in the trash. The album cover could be mistaken for a candid. Taken at a party there sat on the couch surrounded by party-goers haphazardly crammed in the shot, are the Misfits.
Pizzazz sits in between Stormer and Roxy, her head is angled towards the latter but her eyes glance over to the camera. She looks at the photographer like she knows their secret. On her right is Roxy who looks to be arguing with someone out of frame. Jetta sits on the arm of the chair next to Stormer, they're caught in conversation, Stormer is pressed against Pizzazz but her eyes are on Jetta who laughs at an unheard joke.
"You could just say you didn't enjoy our date." Kimber pops open the door. Her fingers traitorously drift towards John-or-something's hand already surrendering to temptation. Her other hand rests on the cool metal of the car door begging her to go back home. She dares another ill-informed look. This time she doesn't see Pizzazz, but her friend Stormer.
There's a pang of longing that strikes deep within her chest. A clandestine thought flashes through her mind fleeting and heinous all at once. Though she's jealous of Jetta, of being swept away by a joke, she wants to be Pizzazz. That thought alone demands her to storm out of the car and forget his number, but that dangerous little traitor speaks up.
That traitor, the one who followed her all her life, who told her to climb that tree when Jerrica told her not to. That whispered to her to try out for the talent show. That made her speak out when her sister's band lost focus. That dared her to keep Stormer's number. That looks at this album and says, take it.
"No it's not that, it's just a good tape is all," John-or-something scoffs, "You guys probably have some agreement to not listen to each other's music, but trust me this stuff is transcendential." Kimber's skeptical that a Misfits album could be more than over-the-top and trashy. She's heard their music on the radio, it's nothing to write home about, but if it has a guy like John-or-something using four syllable words.
What's the worst that could happen?
"Look I know you're always talking about having nothing to yourself. This could be your little secret." John-or-something looks so sincere it makes her feel terrible that she can't remember his name. Yet a voice hisses, one that sounds like Jerrica's, that this could be a ploy from Eric Raymond. It might be bugged, but John-or-something is a sound engineer for a rival rock label.
"Alright, alright, you sold me." Kimber takes the tape thinking of how foolish she's being. John-or-something has been nothing but sweet to her since their first date and guys like Eric Raymond don't bother with guys like him. She leans in, giving him a kiss on the cheek before climbing out of the car, "Thanks, call me soon?"
Kimber doesn't wait for an answer before she's through the front door of Starlight House. The cold night air follows her in whistling around her through the silent corridors. Everyone must have gone to sleep hours ago. She peaks at the contraband in her hands. It feels unnaturally heavy, weighed down by a racing heart and guilty secrets.
Clutching it against her chest she races up the stairs to her room. The still of the night congeals into perfect silence. Where the usual laughter and boisterous conversations peel through the thick walls she's now aware of the sound of her own footsteps pounding off the walls. Once she's cleared the safety of her room she rests her back against the door.
The album itself is a fascinating journey through unconventional key signatures and conflicting keys between instruments that could destroy a song if not handled properly. There are soft lilting melodies hidden throughout the songs that tug her close. It sounds familiar. Something she's heard while resting on a soft brown catch.
She pulls out the j-card from its case. The four Misfits stare back at her, their corresponding signatures beneath them. Folding the image back she sees the albums' personnel all members of the Misfits with at least two instruments assigned to each member. Oddly enough Stormer has the most attributed to her from the viola to the theremin.
Kimber knew that she could play different instruments with relative ease, but not this many. During their sessions on Back to Back Stormer provided an extra guitar or bassline when needed she never let on just how talented she actually was. She wouldn't think a Misfit could even fake being humble let alone keep something like that a secret.
Unfolding the pamphlet she catches the lyrics and composition information. Lyrics, unsurprisingly, on almost all songs have Pizzazz's name listed beside them. Strangely enough there beside the credit for the composer is Stormer's name. Every single song. It's almost sacrilegious with the way her and her sister's write music, the person with the most ideas used gets writing accreditations.
Before she can get carried away by baseless assumptions a thrumming heartbeat like bassline pounds against her headphones. Track six, Lovesick, it's a love song that she vaguely remembers shoving their song Imagine Me off the charts. She heard it once when the single was dropped, the intoxicating rhythm had her hooked, but Aja reached across the car to shut the radio off before the first verse.
Lovesick, composed and written by Stormer with co-writing attributions to a C. Phillips. A twinge of jealousy curls her fingers. Paper bending under her grip she wishes she could find a guy even half as good as this. What kind of guy is so wonderful it has Stormer forgetting herself? For her to write like this, he must be the luckiest guy in the world.
"Kimber, are you listening to me?" Jerrica's voice tears through her thoughts. A stray hand lands on her shoulder and she reacts like it was a gunshot. Throwing the card to the ground she rips her headphones off praying the tape isn't loud enough for her sister to hear. Fear is masked by surprise when she sees her usually stiff, stoic older sister soften.
"I'm just listening to a tape he got for me," Kimber deflects lamely flashing the empty case. She looks up to her silently begging Jerrica to not look into this any further. It doesn't seem like she heard her, but her sister pulls away with a satisfied sigh. There's nothing more infuriating than this motherly persona that Jerrica insists on using on her. It makes her feel like a doll.
"That's wonderful, so how did your date with Sam go?" Jerrica crosses her arms as she leans against Kimber's bed. So that was his name. Now she feels worse about his really thoughtful gift, yet she still doesn't have the urge to call him and set up their next date. If anything her mind is alight with a slew of new rejections citing her sister and a discovered secret.
"It was alright, he's great I mean, but I'm not crazy for him you know?" Kimber says in earnest. Sam is a good guy. He makes her laugh and gets her thoughtful gifts, but her heart doesn't trip in her chest the way it did when they met. The initial mystery has worn off and she's left with the reality that this relationship could be forever or it ends in a break-up.
This one just doesn't feel like forever.
"Sure, but you say that about every guy. You get head over heels at first, it cools once he takes out, and he's lucky if he gets a third date." The way Jerrica says it makes it sound so simple, but it isn't. Maybe it's true that her head gets twisted when she meets a new guy. He's usually cute or charming, a Dimestore Romeo to sweep her off her feet, but that's all they are sometimes.
The novelty always wears off after a few hours of getting to know him. They fall into the same category every time: looking to reach the top no matter what or who gets in his way, he tells her she's special, and then he asks for a kiss or a call before the night ends. It's everything she wants, but it doesn't feel full. Like a song with the same six note melody and nothing more.
Jerrica laughs a joke in her head, "Pretty sure that's why you haven't sent Shaun or Jeff on their way yet. They're never in LA long enough." If that doesn't sting then she doesn't know what will. Shaun and Jeff are different, they have what they want. Their trajectory in life shifted ever so slightly when they met Kimber. She doesn't have to hang up on them. It's almost everything she wants.
"Yeah I guess." Kimber casts her gaze towards her stereo imagining the song that she never got to finish. It's not her fault that she hasn't found her forever. Jerrica met Rio when they were kids and their relationship can be easily described as rocky on the best days. Shana has Anthony who is the embodiment of perfection: strong, supportive, and loyal.
She used to commiserate with Aja about boys. Having struck out multiple times on guys they found an easy companionship they couldn't seem to break into as kids. Guys weren't looking for a tomboy who snapped back that's willing to get into fights, and guys certainly don't want a clingy little girl with an attitude problem. Then Aja met Chris or Craig or whatever his name is.
Overnight she lost her big sister and left in her place was an unrecognizable dope that jumped at the opportunity for a letter or call. The worst part is, she understands. They're kinda made for each other. Aja isn't what the world expects from a woman and by the way she's listened in on their calls he's not what the world expects from a guy.
They fill in each other's gaps, and it's everything Kimber wants.
"Hey, don't be like that. I'm sure you'll find someone," a teasing lilt floods her voice, "Someone to meet your high standards." Of course she doesn't get it. Rio, despite his flaws, is it for her. It's like they stopped maturing the day they met each other. Jem is every reckless impulse that Jerrica represses, and Rio, like most guys, views the bare minimum as being the peak of romance.
She's backseated plenty of their arguments over the years. Heck there are songs with less catchy hooks than one of their spats. Jerrica will lash out, unable to compensate with the insecurity of her boyfriend pining over herself, and Rio will expertly use his skills in conflict resolution and de-escilate by making things worse, like a snide comment about her attitude.
It's been so long since she's last seen a good day between those two. Kimber can hardly remember why they fight so hard to stay together in the first place. Maybe it's out of an instinct to not be alone or maybe it's because they've been together for so long that they don't know how to be themselves without the other. If that's what true love is then they can keep it.
"Anyway, sis, I was checking in. Making sure you got home safe." Jerrica places a kiss to the side of her temple. The feeling doesn't process through her blazing mind. Is it high standards to ask for something more? To be herself outside of her sisters, who will want her to grow without turning resentful.
Kimber's response is stiff, "Thanks, night Jerrica."
"Goodnight Kimber," Jerrica sighs like a mother at the end of her rope. She quickly retreats back to the darkness of the hallway leaving Kimber with her thoughts. Picking up the card off the ground she bends the paper on her hand willing it to give her the answers she needs. Her eyes brush across the cover again and smiles.
"But we're innocent! We didn't know it was a pirate broadcast!" Pizzazz begs to the arresting officers. Behind them Jetta is bucking wildly against the man pushing her towards the wagon. She bares her teeth almost as if she were going to bite him, but Roxy sends her knee into her thigh hissing something about, extra charges.
"The worst part is they are innocent," Jerrica confesses to Rio. She sees her sister tug on his arm before firmly latching to his side. They look like the perfect couple on the cover of pulpy airport romance novels. A strong heavy hand rests on the small of her back. From behind she can feel her older sisters watching over her shoulders. The mood is strangely somber.
Rio laughs, "Don't worry I'll help Barry get them out... tomorrow." Her sisters murmur in agreement. They're happy to take this moment of levity to separate themselves from the harrowing scene in front of them. The group slowly falls apart, retreating to the car, which leaves Jerrica, Rio, and Kimber to ruminate together.
Kimber's eyes can't tear away from the harrowing sight of Stormer getting handled by the cops. An officer has their hand pressed against the base of her skull keeping her head down. She manages to turn to them, their eyes meet, she mouths something to Kimber with a smile. Jerrica huffs, "You'd think they'd learn their lesson this time."
"People like that would rather die than change," Rio answers easily like this is an old conversation. An uncomfortable feeling crawls under her skin. He can't be serious. Crossing his arms he continues, "It's Friday, I'm sure some time behind bars might keep them out of our hair. Come on guys, we have a concert to get to."
"What?! You gotta be kidding me! That can't just be it!" Kimber demands. She grabs Rio's shoulder who pulls away as soon as she does. Another pathetic sting twitches up across her face. They've known each other for just over a decade and he still looks at her like that. Like she's the house pet that his girlfriend brought home one day.
"Cut out of it, Kimber, you can be so emotional sometimes." Rio bites back with a dismissive tone. What does he know? She can count on one hand how many conversations they've had without any of her sisters around. Heck she's had longer more heart-felt conversations with Eric Raymond in the past few weeks than she's had with Rio in the past ten years.
"Kimber," Jerrica sighs, "They wouldn't do the same for us. Besides, we have a contract." Her words carry no room to argue. The kind of tone that ends arguments with a, who raised you or less desirably, you were never this bad when mom was still here. It's bad enough with Rio treating her like a little kid now she has to deal with Jerrica distant disaffected parenting.
There's no use reasoning with them when they're like this. She knows she's terrible with her own emotions, it's not her fault that she lost all parental guidance before high school. All she knows is how to lash out because her sister hasn't shown her any other way to get her attention or even her way, but she knows someone who will, "Then do it without me!"
"Will you look at yourself, you're not a kid anymore Kimber, whether you like it or not you have an obligation to your fans, your band, and your family." Rio scoffs, his shoulders barely lower when Jerrica reaches for him. Kimber looks to her hoping that just this once she won't be alone, but she finds herself empty handed when Jerrica mouths a silent, please.
Fine, if she's going to be on her own, then who cares if they hear the truth, "We wouldn't have fans if it wasn't for me!"
She wasn't prepared for the chorus of laughter wafting out from the group. Her cheeks flush a bright red; an odd mix of shame and anger swells in her chest. Suddenly she's twelve years old wearing her sister's makeup ready to join them on a 'girls night.' They will never know that after they helped wash her face Jerrica didn't check if she was asleep and so she always has the bad habit of leaving her door open.
"We don't have time for this Prima Donna act, let's go." Rio pushes harder, clearly uncomfortable with the embarrassing situation unfolding. He doesn't get it, and he never will, he can't see past his own nose to see her. If he can't see, if Jerrica can't see, maybe the others will.
"I'm not! I learned the guitar first! I wanted to play piano! You guys didn't want to start a band until dad died!" Kimber hears Aja and Shana protest weakly behind her. They don't get it either. Why can't they see the truth? Why is she still on the outside?
"You wanted to learn the guitar because of mom!" Jerrica cuts in. Betrayal burns in her chest, she can hardly believe that she recognizes the person standing in front of her. She'll make it clear to everybody.
"I don't even remember her!" Kimber slams her eyes closed her head involuntarily turns away from them. It's embarrassing how loud everyone's silence is. She remembers her father, she remembers how warm he was; never one to raise his voice without reason. When she thinks of a mother a fuzzy blonde comes to mind, someone with blonde hair.
"Let's get out of here," Kimber says quietly. Opening her eyes she sees Jerrica looking back with heartbreak flooding her eyes. Is it really that bad if Jerrica takes her place? She was eight when mom died. She was thirteen when dad died. She still has her sisters she wants to remember as much as she can.
"Hey, sorry about tonight." Kimber starts, she's dressed down after the halloween concert, the pulse of music still runs through her veins. It's soothing slowly now that she's away from the rest of the Holograms. She approaches her friend sitting on the dock of the opera house loading bay. Seeing no immediate sign that she's unwelcome she sits down beside her.
"If this is your way of telling me you can control the weather then save it." Stormer looks up at her with an endearingly sly smile. A peach colored overcoat covers up her outfit, still stage ready and daringly beautiful. She sends a teasing wink, continuing, "I'll probably call you when my ex decides to date my best friend."
"Well until then, you want some company?" Kimber asks, knocking their shoulders together smiling when it gets Stormer to laugh. Her hands ache with the need to wrap her friend up in a hug that she knows Stormer would readily take, but they stay in place. Something ancient bristles at the thought of finding comfort in this.
"Sure why not? What brings you to my lonely little corner?" Stormer shrugs and leans in close, resting her shoulder against hers. The bristling anger quells and she uses what little bravery it leaves and rests her head on top of her shoulder. Soft fabric shifts as Stormer straightens from the sudden contact, before her mind can dictate a retreat, she feels herself relax again.
"The Holograms are handing out candy to kids. Ran out a while ago and I'm pretty sure they haven't noticed they're down a pianist." There's a faint trace of lavender perfume clinging stubbornly to her collar. It reminds her of long drawn sunsets bleeding onto the horizon, of a soothing voice, and the scent of jasmine. She doesn't remember much about her mother, but she likes to think they had moments like this.
"Their loss, you're good company. The kids, did they enjoy the show at least?" Stormer asks, sounding truly interested. Kimber dares to look over. There's a deep imploring sincerity burning behind her eyes that has Kimber rooted in her spot. It's not the first time she's faced with the fact that Stormer isn't like the rest of the Misfits.
To think only a year ago she could sit alongside her sisters following along in rhythm hissing their names and scorning their very presence. Whenever something goes catastrophically wrong she can't picture Stormer as clearly as she can with Pizzazz, Roxy, Jetta, or even Eric Raymond. She has a good heart underneath it all.
"Oh, you bet!" Kimber remembers cold fall nights running around with Lela back before they grew apart, "Everyone in the crowd wore goofy outfits. It reminded me of when I was little. My dad sewed me and my little sister these big beautiful fairy wings and I'd wear every chance I got. Every year I was something different: fairy pirate, fairy princess, fairy rockstar, you name it."
"That sounds wonderful Kimber. I didn't know you had a little sister." Stormer's voice is warm. Her teasing smile melted into something genuine and almost kind. Growing up it was hard to break into the inner circle that her older sisters built around them. When Lela came into the picture it was exciting to have someone who didn't look at her and see some dumb little kid.
"It's kinda strange to think about, but all the girls at Starlight House are legally classified as my sisters."
It didn't last. She became a teenager, more girls came into Starlight House, and Lela didn't find hanging out with her older sister fun anymore. Being the middle child is a strange curse; too young to be given responsibility and deemed old enough to make mature decisions. The chasm of years between her and both inner circles of girls, she might as well be an only child.
"So that means..."
She's not sure how old Stormer is. Maybe a few years older than her at best, but she seems so sure of herself. Not in the found her forever job, wake up at fifty, and still go to the same job that she had in her twenties like Jerrica, but in the sense that this could all explode in her face tomorrow and she can pick herself to try something new.
"Yep."
A warm hand drapes over her waist, Stormer's arm bracketing her back, her head lazily rests on top of Kimber's. Allowing her heart to take control of her hands they reach across to hold onto Stormer's wrist. Her mind runs her thumb along the finer bones beneath. Stormer feels substantial. She proudly takes up the space she's filled.
"Huh, guess I should start calling Starlight House the Barbie Dream House. It must be nice to have such a large family, at least."
It's like words feel substantial. She knows that the words she speaks Stormer will keep. When talking to her sisters she feels in-line, in step, with them until she says a sentence off rhythm or under emphasized and she's thrown into the passenger seat of her own body while the others continue with the conversation. Hidden away in plain sight as ordinary and quiet as a couch.
"Yeah, I guess, I just wish I had someone my age. Someone who gets it. Is that too much to ask?"
If she were to call out in a crowded room she's not sure who would hear, but she knows Stormer would catch her. She had already proven herself as much during their Back to Back sessions, treating Kimber's suggestions like they held weight and whenever an idea was dropped it never came out of nowhere or without thought. It's a good change of pace and far better than getting talked over.
"No, not to me at least, for what it's worth. If you think about it; when your entire purpose in life is to serve others it's okay to be selfish every once in a while."
Her sisters mean well. They wouldn't have so many musical accolades if their opinions didn't matter. Two truths can co-exist; their equal credit method can create hits and so can one creative mind with enpigh passion and drive. Stormer can be a Misfit and still be a good person. If only the other Holograms could see it.
"You make it sound easy."
The wind brushes against her face. Here there aren't impossible deadlines, given endless responsibilities, without being trusted with her emotions. No complicated boys who'd rather talk about themselves or nothing at all. She doesn't have to wonder if she's talking to her boss or her sister.
Being with Stormer, it's easy.
"It can be-" "Misfit!" Aja's voice cuts through the air between them. Kimber rocks backwards a biting cold occupying the space Stormer once filled. Wide manic eyes find Aja in the doorway of the opera house loading dock. She looks at the scene with shock dropping her jaw and confusion twisting her eyebrows. Her grip so hard on the doorknob Kimber is afraid it would snap.
"I don't know what you're doing here, but you need to leave now!" The venom flooding her voice gives no room for Stormer to interject. Kimber stands up to directly face Aja expecting Stormer to follow. Instead she pushes herself off the loading bay away from Kimber. She raises her hands jokingly while stepping away.
"Don't worry Aja, I was on my way out," Stormer gives a placating smile to Kimber, "Take care of yourself, kid." She shoves her hands into her pockets and stalks off to wherever the Misfits have sequestered themselves. A hand lands on her shoulder Kimber looks up at her big sister. It seems Aja is disturbed that Stormer knew her name because her posture is still wound tight.
"That girl gives me the creeps," Aja hisses, "What were you doing out here anyway?!" Her attention drags over to Kimber as her hands frantically search for injury. Aja brushes away a strand of hair from her forehead, her dark blue eyes filled with worry. A heartsick twinge pulls her lips into a smile, she remembers being a little kid falling off her bike and being rescued by Aja with a first aid kit and an encouraging hug.
Unable to take it much longer Kimber looks away and finds Stormer's retreating silhouette. They're dreadfully similar, Aja and Stormer. She can see the echoes and contradictions. Where Aja holds on firmly Stormer's grasp is gentle. Aja will stand by close, Stormer keeps her distance. All in the name of protecting her. If only they could see that, see her friend and not the enemy.
Maybe it will always be this way. That little glimpse after their solo album release could have been their only shot, but she won't give up. Even if it proves fruitless she'll still have easy conversations and slow nights. As long as this stays. Stormer turns the corner and the answer is simple, she smiles, "Thought I'd have a moment to myself."
"Knock, knock!" Stormer's light raspy voice drifts out from behind a half opened door. She appears not a moment later. There's apprehension in her shoulders and some papers are clutched tight to her chest. Pressing her back against the door her eyes drag across the room full of Holograms all in various states of disappointment at seeing her.
"Thought we told you that we're done signing," Shana spits acerbically while plucking a few notes from her bass guitar. The rest of the holograms are sat along the recording booth risers. Shana and Raya sit to her sides on the step beneath her. Aja sits closest to the door directly in front of Kimber on the bottom step.
"Oh? This? It's just the sheet music for Ballad Pour Adeline, by Clayderman." Stormer flashes the sheet music, "I wanted to talk to Kimber." Her voice falters slightly on the name. Clear, earnest, blue eyes find her behind the rest of the band, and she can see Stormer's shoulders release slightly. A short tepid smile is shared between them.
"Anything you want to say to her can be said to us, Misfit," Aja cuts in. Stormer's attention jumps away from Kimber and towards the other's. She tightens the sheet music against her chest, something close to an argument flashes across her eyes, but she steadies her footing and faces Aja.
"Of course, Pizzazz and I can't agree on some lyrics and I was hoping Kimber's input would settle." Stormer says sweetly in a tone that feels like it's been wielded against record execs and pushy producers. Kimber sits back, her heart swelling at the thought that someone wants to hear what she has to say. That said someone is willing to bite back while outnumbered for her.
"So you guys can steal her lyrics and claim them for yourself." It's Raya who comes to her defense. Her sisters curl in towards her wordlessly like an oyster protecting its pearl. There was a time when this was all she wanted. To be the center of her sisters' world. Why now does it feel so hollow?
"I wouldn't say it like that. We give full credit where it's warrented." Stormer runs her thumb over the stack of paper in her hands. She suddenly looks back to Kimber tension once again bleeding from her posture, and it's there that it strikes her. Something so simple she almost misses it, nobody has ever looked at her the way Stormer does.
It should have been a shock, falling for Stormer, but it just all came together no different from the other guys she's found herself falling head over heels for. They shared a stage, she found someone she clicked with, and before she knew it there were lyrics written in the margin of her notebooks dreaming of blue eyes and an easy smile.
The fact that she was a girl seemed to roll off with a quiet awe that will probably be forgotten in the years to come. For all their faults, flaws, and perfections there's a perfect symmetry to them. Shaun, the jet-setting heart-throb with a million dollar smile and holds her like she's the best money could buy. Jeff, the roguish daredevil and the way he talks about her, gosh, it's like she's the best adrenaline rush known to man.
It's Stormer, the brilliant composer with the heart of a poet. The girl who looks at Kimber like she's the greatest melody she could never write.
"Oh, so you'll give me credit for my guitar solo? The one you gave to Rapture?" Aja steps in front of Stormer blocking her view. The levity of a moment shared vanishes. Reality slams down hard onto her chest. Alone in a room of five, her big sister ran away to be with Rio and the fate of Starlight Music is rapidly slipping through her fingers.
"Your name will be the first in the accredited musicians section on the song it appears in." Stormer supplies in hopes to quell Aja's criticism. They stand at odds with one another clearly with the same goal in mind, to get Kimber away from the other. In any other situation she would swoon at the prospect, but every word they spit is breaking her heart.
"'Accredited musicians,' that makes it sound like I had a choice. You ripped it out of the song I chose it for." Aja crosses her arms defiantly. Echoes and contradictions. One holds tight to vapid factionalism the other having too much pride to see the value of her opposite.
"It's the first song on the album! Our contract with Gabor Licensing strictly dictates that every opener must be led by Pizzazz with either voice or guitar." Stormer is starting to lose her cool. Kimber can see it in the ridges forming on the sheets in her hands, an echo, "Besides your arrangement... it didn't fit with our sound."
Aja's back straightens, her muscles wring taut, and jaw sets. Kimber would recognize that look anywhere, the oncoming storm, as kids that was the only warning someone would get before they get a fist to the face. As adults, "Your sound? You mean the one gets you put in clearance bins? The same sound that peaks at twenty on the charts?"
The world seems to hold it's breath.
Kimber is on her feet in an instant her bandmates reach out for her desperate to bring her back down. From here she has a better view of the damage. Stormer shuffles onto her back foot, her posture shifts, and the shock in her eyes bleeds into rage. For the first time in months she doesn't see her close friend she sees a Misfit. "You listen to me," Stormer hisses, "If you and your stuck up-"
"Guys! Enough!" Kimber yells above them. She rushes down the risers heading straight for Stormer. Her maddening blue eyes lock onto Kimber, something unreadable swirling underneath. It takes all of her strength to look away, she hardens her resolve, "I want to go with Stormer. I want to hear what she's cooked up."
"But-" Aja tries to interject.
"Im old enough to make my own decisions and this is my mistake to make." Kimber scoops up Stormer's arm and begins dragging her towards the door. With every step she feels the tension bleed from her friend's rigid posture. On the other side of the door stands Roxy who claps her hand against Stormer's back with a proud smile painted across her lips.
"Gotta hand it to you Stormer. I would have lost it when she said we'd steal their lyrics. Like we'd use that wimpy stuff, no offense beanpole." Roxy tacks on the addition as if it were an afterthought. This is the closest she's ever been to Roxy without pretense or gimmicks. Under the cheap fluorescent lighting she didn't expect her to look so, human.
"Uh, none taken?" The words shake out of Kimber's mouth now that she's frightfully alone in uncharted waters. Despite the enemy swelling around her, she couldn't be more sure of her choice, Stormer is by her side and it seems like Roxy is on her best behavior. Maybe so much had to go wrong so this one thing to be right.
"Sorry for losing my temper, kid. Aja just doesn't know when to let up, you know?" Stormer leans in close. It's strange, knowing that Stormer has a history with Aja. At the same time it's sweet that Craig wants to keep his two worlds close. It's too optimistic to think they could be friends, continuing, "Thanks for coming with me, I didn't have anybody else to turn to."
"Anybody that won't get us investigated by the FCC." Roxy points out likely referring to either Minx or Jetta.
"My mother would turn in her grave if she heard some of your suggestions, Roxy." Stormer laughs at her own joke. She hears Roxy's rebuttal, Hey, that loser Shakespeare doesn't know anything about real love. That's not what grabs her attention, no, it's something small thrown away like it was nothing. A common past shared.
"Your mom's dead too?" Kimber asks suddenly.
"And what of it pipsqueak?" Roxy interjects like she was waiting for a slip up. On instinct she raises her hands in submission. She didn't mean anything by it, really, but the way Stormer's shoulders raise and how she evades eye contact, it's a sore subject.
"Cut it out you two," Stormer calls out. Roxy indignantly turns to her a rebuttal on her lips, but Stormer leans in close, whispering something only they can hear. When she pulls away she says, "I told you to play nice, Roxy, I don't want to lose this opportunity."
The back door slams closed, sealing her away from Shana and Jerrica. It wouldn't have stung so much if they had slapped her instead. Outside the girls are none the wiser to the large fight that just occured. A hand rests on her shoulder, Aja, "She'll come around, Kimber, you just have to give her time."
"How could you say that? You had the phone company change our number last week." Kimber bites back still hopped up on the buzz of their argument. Though Aja says it's because a crazed fan got ahold of it she knows it's because of an incident where an intern at Misfit Music called their address. It doesn't take a genius to figure out her sister's conclusion.
"I'll admit I over reacted, but you have to know where we're coming from." Aja placates with enough decency to look embarrassed. It still doesn't make up for the fact that she's only getting this apology now and not then. It's always justified and necessary if her sisters act rash after all.
"I already know, I'm your kid sister and I can't make decisions for myself. Because everything I do for myself is a mistake." She knows she sounds indignant, but she doesn't want another explosive argument. If anything she wants to go upstairs, shut out the world, and not emerge until winter.
"That's not it," Aja pinches the bridge of her nose, "We're older, we have had more experience with people like the Misfits."
"But this is Stormer, she's nothing like her bandmates," Kimber feels herself growing tired of this argument. It's not like any of them actually listen anyway.
"That's my problem, Kimber. I can't stand the thought of you two being so close; because whenever she's around all I see is him." It strikes Kimber in the chest half hearted and awkward. Sure she's no boy scout, but Kimber is pretty sure the Pope has more in common with him than Stormer.
"What does Eric have to do with-" "Not Eric, Craig." Aja interrupts. She folds her arms across her chest and her gaze drifts away from Kimber all together, a faint blush dusts across her cheeks. "Her brother, Craig. My boyfriend Craig. Every time you talk about her, every time he talks about her... I hate it."
"I even asked him to stop and I know it's killing him to not share such a big part of his life with me, but I don't want her to be a part of mine." For the first time she doesn't say, or a part of your's. Instead it hangs between them silent but present, and she's not sure which option is worse. The road they're heading down or the festering quiet.
"Because the way you two talk about her, everything that made me fall in love with him is right there." Aja's eyes soften, her hand brushes against her sleeve as a warm smile brightens her features. Her gaze goes past Kimber to somewhere across the globe where she's in the arms of an impossible man who loves like an open flame on a dark cold night.
It's a feeling she knows well. Of long nights in a warm condo searching for the perfect song, to falling asleep to the rich melody of a worn guitar, waking up in a soft bed when she fell asleep on an armchair. Finding Stormer in the morning with two freshly brewed coffees and breakfast at the ready.
A smile slips out as Kimber reaches out, hand brushing over her shoulder. Aja looks up towards her, her eyes searching for something. It's quiet at first, but like a mantra the words grow louder with each repeat, "She's a Misfit, they're liars, they're cheaters, they steal. There's nothing good about a Misfit."
"Oh, Aja, it's okay, I had the same-" Kimber begins to say but she's interrupted by her sister raising a finger in the air. She was losing her chance, "No please listen to me. I was in your same place, I might not know much about Craig, but if he's anything like my Stormer then I know how kind and considerate he can be! Come on, let's work on this together!"
By the end of it the hope swirling in her chest bleeds into her voice she wants to start this journey with her sister. Stormer's welcome might have expired with everybody else, but they can start again here. Day one, and all she needs to do is take a step towards her. Kimber reaches out ready to take Aja in her arms, but as if by instinct Aja pushes herself back.
Softly Kimber hears, 'my Stormer.' The echo is spat at the ground. Helplessly, she watches her progress, her vulnerability, recede in an instant two infuriated eyes pin her down. Aja stands tall defiant under the betrayal. Her voice is sharp, "I don't care if she's like Craig or if she's different from her bandmates, if that's even true, she's still one of them. You can't be a good person if you're a Misfit. I will never trust her with you or with anybody else I love."
Like a heavy hand striking across her sternum, each word daring to break her heart, but in the aftermath she doesn't find rage, only clarity. She feels the emotional pull and snap where one person ends and another begins. From this moment forward they are two different people from the Kimber and Aja who existed an hour ago. With clear eyes she understands her sister now at this moment.
Her big sister, second eldest, the one so many deemed mature, beyond her years. The pillar of strength and resilience for a little kid who always felt like the world was leaving her behind. Someone who always knew who they were and never afraid to fill the space they lived in. Aja, her big sister, still needs to grow.
That some day when she has all of the pieces they will return to this very conversation, but that day is too blurry in Kimber's mind. For now she fights against Kimber, she fights against change, she fights to keep the world she knows. Kimber doesn't know how to guide her through this, to get to this conversation again, if it's even possible, but the world keeps spinning.
Aja walks away, towards the backdoor, to the rest of their family outside. Her back to Kimber in quiet contemplation. Even as it breaks with every step tearing them apart her heart wants to race after her sister to stay together, to apologize for the past few years. Heal the isolation. It's there she's rooted in the same place, her mind too stubborn to reclaim what she sees as the truth.
She can have both.
The light pouring into the room from the opening door is blinding. "You said it yourself, 'this is your mistake to make,'" Aja speaks with resolution, her hand gripping the edge of the door, calling from salvation, "I love you. You will always be my sister, but if you choose Stormer, don't expect me to pick up the phone."
There's a knock at the front door as the back closes.