"Hey, come on," Jen told Michelle, looking straight into her eyes, which were awfully watery; she was on the verge of tears. "It's nothing. Are you going to be okay?"
But it wasn't nothing. Michelle had just been blackmailed by someone threatening to reveal her huge secret; and she couldn't bare to think what would happen if it ever got out that she was transgendered. She thought of all sorts of awful, life-ruining things that could happen to her if that became known.
And then she started to cry. She closed her eyes, trying not to sob but failing. She wasn't sure how long she just sat there crying, but when she opened her eyes again, Jen was hugging her, trying to calm her.
"Come on," Jen said, trying to comfort Michelle with her smile. "It's not so bad, it's not the end of the world. Don't worry about it. It's nothing."
Michelle shook her head, trying to calm herself.
"N-no...," she stammered, "it's not nothing."
Michelle couldn't remember exactly what she said there; all she remembered was having to explain herself to Jen, stopping to cry. But she did remember that she wasn't sure if Jen would understand, but it didn't stop her from trying to be comforting all the same. It was then that she was getting sick of telling people she was transgendered; why? Why should I have to keep going through this shit? is one thing she definitely recalled thinking at the time. And she also remembered Jen saying "that explains a few things." She had heard that phrase during this sort of conversation before, and it wasn't reassuring-- except when Eric said it, but that was different. All she could imagine it meaning was that she wasn't being feminine enough, or she was acting like a guy, or something equally cover-blowing; and thinking about that just made her feel awful.
"Still," Jen told her, "don't worry about it. It's not believable; and besides, what's the worst that could happen from ignoring this jerk?"
That was not the right question to ask.
"I could be killed," Michelle responded quietly, having tired herself out with sobbing, "That's the worst that could happen."
"It's not that bad," Jen said after a moment's hesitation.
Michelle sighed, shaking her head.
"I used to know a girl over the internet who was transgendered, too. She was from... uh, Holland, I think. Some place like that. She was a really great friend of mine, and the first person that I'd ever told about how I was...," Michelle trailed off.
"Yeah?" Jen asked, softly.
"Yeah. You know," she answered, and Jen did. "We were really close friends, I knew her for years. Always listened to her, comforted her when she was depressed and feeling insecure-- you wouldn't believe how often that happens to people like her, or me...," Michelle shivered. "But we were really close."
"What happened?" Jen asked, wondering why Michelle was telling her this. "Did you drift apart?"
Michelle shook her head, tears rolling down from her eyes.
"She eventually found a girlfriend online, from America. She was also a friend of mine at the time." Michelle stopped, taking the time to wipe her tears, calming herself again. Jen got up and passed her a tissue.
"Thanks," Michelle said quietly. "Anyway, uh... at one point, she told the wrong person about her male body. I don't know who, but, it got out, and everyone knew. A couple people called her a liar, but her girlfriend... well, she threw a real fit about it... apparently. They weren't really that serious, but I guess that didn't stop her."
"And that's why you're so worried about it coming out? You think people would call you a liar?"
"No. I'm scared of it coming out, because... there are some terrible, evil people out there. People that'd hate someone because they didn't reveal some personal, fucking stupid, meaningless secret. My friend... she felt awful, and her girlfriend... just egged her on and encouraged her to commit suicide. She told her, while she was so sad, that she should just kill herself. I only heard about it from someone else... another friend of mine who stepped in, to talk her out of it..." Michelle trailed off, starting to cry again.
"Did they?" Jen asked, staring aghast at Michelle.
Michelle stopped crying long enough to whisper a single word. Jen couldn't make it out, but she didn't need to. Jen hugged her again, holding the crying girl tight; it was all that she could think to do.
"I won't let that happen to me," Michelle finally managed to say. "Never.
"Never."
It wasn't until a few days later that anyone heard from Michelle. After getting her phone call, Eric agreed to head down to the studio, and he was already there by the time Michelle arrived.
"Hey," she said weakly to Eric as she saw him.
"Hi, Michelle," he replied with a smile. She sat down near him, dropping her bag on the floor. "How've you been doing? Jen said you weren't doing so well, and she seemed kinda worried."
She shrugged. She wasn't the emotional wreck she was a few days ago, which was probably the best she could say about herself. She decided not to say that.
"I've been better," she answered, trying to smile a bit.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, not having any idea of what "it" was, but wanting to help her as much as he could.
"No, not really," she said, shaking her head.
"Okay, fair enough," he answered. "It's just that you skipped like three days of school and don't tell anyone... I worried."
"What, have you been snooping on me now?" she joked, grinning now.
"Ha. More like Rob called to ask."
"Well, don't worry about it. I just sometimes get depressed over dumb things, it happens." Michelle reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook, flipping to the right page. "Look, it wasn't even all just three days of moping, I actually got something done."
Glancing over, he saw a page of what read like lyrics open in her notebook.
"You want to start on that?" he asked.
Michelle shrugged. "Listen first. But we might as well, I'd like to get something done." She got up to go grab her guitar, and sat back down with it.
"So let's hear it," Eric said.
"I'm still working out some bits," she told him. She played a couple of chords, then started to sing.
"Something's been botherin' me
a long time
It's really very hard to explain
I just think that I need someone to tell me
Am I doing okay? Or am I doing wrong?
Is it wrong?
Is it wrong?
Won't you please
tell me
Oh please
Am I wrong?
Is it wrong to give the homeless man
a loonie
Just because he 'cided to call me "ma'am"
Is it wrong to not smile at the boys around me
Even if I have good reason for not liking men?
Is it wrong?
Is it wrong?
Won't you please
tell me
Oh please
Am I wrong?
Is it wrong to be disgusted in
the shower
When I see something that I don't want to see
Is it wrong to be thinking things so dirty
Whe I'm supposed to be all nice and sweet and clean?
Is it wrong?
Is it wrong?
Won't you please
tell me
Oh please
Am I wrong?
Is it wrong for me to be so damn
self-concious
Staring at my reflection in each window I see
is it wrong to care so much about appearance
To worry that I don't look so girly?
Is it wrong?
Is it wrong?
Won't you please
tell me
Oh please
Am I wrong?
I just can't figure it out on my own
I can't tink straight, I just need to know
Is it wrong? Is it wrong?
Somebody please, oh tell me
Am I wrong?
Or is it wrong?"
Michelle put down her guitar after she finished singing, sighing afterwards.
Eric just sat there for a second afterward, then briefly applauded.
"I think it's good," he said. "I'm not sure about a few lines there, but I really like the sound of it.
"Is that really how you feel?" he asked, after a moment's hesitation.
Michelle nodded.
"I don't like to worry... but, you know, I end up doing just that, anyway," she explained. "I like to think that I wouldn't really need to ask-- I'm not that insecure-- but it just bothers me a lot."
"Wow," he replied, thinking about it more. "I really can't imagine."
"Well, it'd be nice if you tried...," she answered, trying not to sound too blunt.
"Er, sorry, I didn't mean to sou--" He was interrupted partway through.
"I know," she said softly, smiling at him.
She'd heard variations of the phrase "I can't imagine what that's like" at least a couple times before in response to being transgendered, and it bothered her a lot. I know it's a strange concept and hard to understand, she thought to herself, but it'd sure be nice if people actually tried instead of just saying that. To her, it sounded cheap, regardless of any intentions.
"Can I hear that through again?" he asked. "Then maybe we can start to work it out."
"Yeah," she answered, "sure." And then she sang it again.
When she had finished singing, after giving it a moment's thought, he told her, "You know... unless you start being open about that, nobody's going to really know what the song's about."
"I know," she answered. "That doesn't really matter, I don't really mind that. I did try to leave it kinda ambiguous, but... it doesn't matter if it doesn't make sense to the twelve people buying our CD who don't know me personally."
"Actually," he said with a smirk, "people'll probably just think you're a lesbian or something after trying to figure it out."
"I don't really mind that, either," she said, winking at him.
Near the end of the next day, Michelle sat on her usual pre-class perch of her desk in physics. Her friend Gabe sat several feet below her, actually sitting on a chair.
"Where the hell's Rob?" Michelle wondered out loud. "He's usually early..."
"Dunno," he answered. "He was here this morning..."
"Huh."
"Did you two... get into a fight, or something?" he asked, after a moment's hesitation.
"Er, no. Why do you ask?" Michelle looked confused.
"Oh... nothing," he replied.
"No, really, what?"
"No, it's nothing. Never mind."
Michelle and Gabe had the same first class in the morning together; she'd already told him that she had skipped school because she was feeling depressed, but she was okay now. But both Rob and Gabe were in another class in the second period of the morning, and she hadn't seen Rob all day. She vaguely wondered what was up, before realizing she wasn't really in much of a position to question somebody not showing up for school.
It was about then that the teacher started yelling that class was starting, and Michelle hopped off her desk.
For once, it felt like it wasn't such a long day.
Nearly a week later, Michelle and Eric found themselves in Jen's office yet again.
"So," Jen announced, "I think I've got a gig worked out for you two. It's really small; some nobody band was going to open for the Four Symbols at a bar this weekend, but it turns out, their bassist has the flu or something. So they need someone else to do it."
"The flu? Who the hell gets the flu in June?" Eric asked.
"Yeah, that's what I said," Jen said with a smirk. "But anyway, they're looking for someone who can cover for them on short notice and will work for peanuts. So I figured you'd be the first I asked."
"Man, we're that cheap?" Michelle smiled, knowing full well that, considering it was her first live performance, she really was that cheap. "But hell, I'd open for the Four Symbols for free, they're an awesome group. Sure, we'd love to."
"It won't actually be for free," Eric added.
Jen laughed, and scribbled something on a piece of paper, sliding it across her desk. "Here you go, this is where you'll need to be. I'll make sure to pass the bag of peanuts onto you afterwards."
"Ha, thanks," Michelle said, taking the paper.
"So... Michelle, when do you graduate?" Jen asked, changing the subject.
"Two weeks from now, assuming I don't miserably fail any finals," she answered. "Which isn't entirely impossible. Man, it's so hard to care about school now."
"Yeah, try not to do that," Jen responded with a grin, "I expect you to be in the studio double time after you graduate; upstairs tells me that they'd like to have another album's worth of content real soon."
"Sure, sure...," Michelle said, smirking. "Way to make me feel appreciated as an artist."
"Oh no, it's all about the numbers. Sorry to be the one telling you this," Jen teased, laughing.
They talked idly for a while after that. Eventually, Jen changed the subject again to something completely different, and significantly less cheerful.
"So, uh... before I forget, Michelle, I've got a bit of good news for you," Jen told her, hesitantly.
"Yeah?"
"Well, you know the guy who sent those photos...," she started to say, trying to phrase it delicately.
"Gee, how could I forget?" Michelle replied, sarcastically.
"Huh?" Eric, on the other hand, did not know what Jen was talking about.
"Oh, shit," Jen muttered. "Sorry... I thought you'd told him."
"No, that's fine," Michelle said, shaking her head. "Might as well."
Michelle went on to explain to Eric about the blackmailer and the pictures; and the real reason as to why she was so depressed as to skip school for three days. Eric did not react well at all.
"Jesus Christ," he cursed, "that's fucking awful."
"Tell me about it," she said.
"So...," Jen continued, "I called up one of our techs who owes me a huge favour. He did a bit of calling around, and with a little bit of 'pressure' from a guy he knows in the legal department, he managed to find out who's trying to blackmail you. Great thing about working for a record label, people take your legal threats real seriously. So he got that."
"Yeah?" Michelle replied, surprised.
"Yeah. Wasn't able to get much, but... apparently it's from someone inside the city, by the name of...," Jen looked down at a sheet of paper she had on her desk. "...David Page. I dunno how much help that'd be, but I figure you should know."
"Page... Page... why does that sound familiar?" Michelle asked herself aloud.
"Rob Page," Eric answered quietly. "Rob's last name is Page."
Michelle turned and stared at Eric, her jaw dropping. She didn't say anything, completely in shock as she pieced things together.
"Holy shit...," was all that she managed to say at last.
"Are you sure about that?" Eric asked Jen.
"Yeah," Jen answered. "I... take it you know this person?"
"...yeah," Eric responded.
"I... can't believe it," Michelle finally said. Her heart was beating frantically, and she just sat, shocked; completely overwhelmed by hearing that it was her friend trying to blackmail her. "Just... what the fuck...?"
"Unbelievable," Eric said, shaking his head in disgust. He reached over, wiping a tear from Michelle's cheek.
"I...," Michelle stammered, "just can't believe he'd do something like that..."
"Me neither. Do you want me to go talk to him?" he offered.
Michelle shook her head, taking a deep breath. "No...," she said, talking to herself just as much as she was talking to Eric. "No, I'll go confront him about it."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," she answered, despite not even having convinced herself. "I'll... it's not like this is the only time I'm going to have to deal with something like this." As she continued, she found herself gaining a lot of confidence to her voice. "I'll set the fucker straight... but thanks. I appreciate the offer.
"And thanks a lot, Jen."
Eric smiled warmly at her. "Okay," he said.
The next day didn't go by nearly as quickly; Michelle worried all day about how she was going to confront Rob. She couldn't think of anything else, obsessing over what she would say, imagining possible back-and-forths in her mind; nothing else could distract her. Each class seemed to drone on forever, with lessons that were entirely unimportant compared to her current problem. At long last, came Physics; the class that they both shared.
She didn't talk to him all throughout that period, and could barely stand to look at him; the all too familiar nervous heart pounding coming to her every time she glanced in his direction. How could it be like that with him? Just a month ago, we were great friends..., she thought to herself. Gabe kept whispering things, like he always did, to her during the class, but she couldn't pay attention; eventually, he gave up.
And then finally, the bell rang, and Michelle's heart started to race again. This is it, she told herself. Chaos erupted from class, everyone filing out of the room; Michelle fought her way through her excited classmates, approaching Rob as they exited the room.
"Hey," she managed to say, her heart pounding heavily. "We need to... to talk."
Rob turned around, looking at her. "About what?"
That set her off. Suddenly, her nervousness was replaced with anger, as if remembering why she was really talking to him. She just glared at him.
"You know what," she said sharply. She pointed to one of the corners in the hall, one that was infrequently used and more or less empty. "Come here, so nobody else has to hear this." And with that, she walked in that direction; Rob reluctantly following after her.
When they got there, she took a deep breath. She'd thought long and hard about what she was going to say, and never managed to decide; it ended up being sponteneous all the same.
"Do you want to explain this all to me?" she demanded, glaring at him. "See, it's funny, I thought you were my friend."
"What the hell do I have to explain?"
"Don't fuck around with me, I know full well it was you," she snapped at him-- hoping to God that she was right, even thought she knew she was. "I... I'm speechless. How the fuck could you do something like that?"
"How could I do something like that?" he repeated, outraged. "I thought we were friends, too-- friends or not, I can't let you do something like that. I made a hard choice..."
"Excuse me?" she interrupted. "What is it that offends you so much about me that you'd betray your friend? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"If you want to be a pervert, that's fine, I can live with that," he answered, just as much anger in his voice. "It's digusting, but whatever floats your boat. But you're fucking lying to everyone with this drag queen shit, and what if you get really popular? Are you still going to mislead everyone like that? I can't let you do that--"
"You know what," she cut in again, "fuck you. Fuck you." She tried to think of what to say next, as offended right now as she'd ever been in her whole life; should she try to explain to him? Should she even bother? "You want to think I'm just some pervert? You want to think I'm really just some guy? You want to think I'm lying? Go ahead, think that," she told him, realizing that it didn't matter what she said; there was nothing she'd ever be able to do to change his mind. He'd never listen to her to understand what she really was, and she knew that.
"You can think whatever the hell you like, I'm not going to change your mind. But let me make one fucking thing clear: don't ever try something like that again," she angrily told him, her voice raising, praying that what she was saying would work. "You know what that is? Not only is what you did extortion, but it's fucking queer bashing-- both of which are completely illegal. If you ever try something like that again, I'll call the fucking cops and tell them everything."
Rob just stood there, glaring at her just as furiously, about to start to say something.
"No, not a damn word. I'll do it, I swear to God. And do you think anyone'll believe you if you tried to go public with me being transgendered? That's not going to happen. Nobody'll believe you," she said, taking a deep breath, then continuing, on full steam. "So you'll look like a fool and I'll have you busted for gay bashing. Got it?"
"Fuck you, that's no--"
"I'm through here," she interrupted, nearly shouting. "Do you understand? Don't fucking try anything like that ever again."
"You son of a bitch," was his only response.
"And let me make one other thing perfectly clear: don't you dare ever talk to me again. Got it? Not one fucking word to me, not ever again."
And with that, she walked off, feeling like she'd taken a huge load off her chest. Michelle walked down the hallway, not once looking back.
Michelle and Eric got out of the car together, taking their instruments from the trunk. She would've thought she'd be nervous about playing her first live gig, but after having dealt with Rob, she was surprisingly calm. Eric looked around, trying to figure out where the back door to the place was.
"So, I talked to Rob the other day," Michelle said.
"Yeah? Good for you," Eric replied-- quite sincerely.
"Did you?"
"What do you mean?" Eric asked, knowing full well where she was leading this.
"I saw him yesterday," Michelle told him, smiling coyly. "So what happened?"
"Well... I had a few words with him," he answered. "I know you said you wanted to talk to him, but... well, I wanted to make the point clear."
"He had a black eye!"
"Like I said... I wanted to make the point clear."
"Dude, you beat up someone for harassing me. I'm not sure if I should be alarmed here, or flattered," she said; but her tone was completely joking. "Geeze."
They came up to the back door and Eric knocked. The door opened, and a tall young woman with short, purple hair stood behind it, holding it open. Michelle recognized her immediately; it was Katherine Jane, the lead singer for the Four Symbols.
"Oh, hey, you must be Ms. Mars," she said. "You're sure cutting it close for time. Come on in."
"Err, sorry," Michelle replied, and the two of them entered. "I had trouble finding the place.
"And please just call me Michelle," she added.
"Sure," Katherine said, leading them into a small room. "Not a problem."
Three others, who were dressed just as oddly as Katherine, were already sitting in the room. She immediately recognized them as the rest of Katherine's band. Michelle realized just how small the room was; just a couple of couches and a few chairs made it seem completely full, old and worn posters covered the walls. An empty pizza box lay on the table in the middle.
"Hey, Josh!" she yelled to someone outside the room. "The two replacement guys are here!"
She turned to face them again. "Okay, you guys are up in like, half an hour. You can just sit here until it's time, if you want, there's enough room." She then glanced down at their instruments, adding, "Oh... hey, Mark, go take their instruments out onto the stage, will you? You don't have to keep clutching 'em like that."
One of the guys sitting on a couch got up, and did as Katherine told him.
"Oh, thanks...," Michelle said, a bit nervously.
"So, I'm Katherine, that guy you just saw was Mark...," she started, introducing everyone. "That's Jeff over there--"
"Hey," Jeff interrupted.
"--and that's Kurt. And guys, this is Michelle... and... uh...," Katherine paused, forgetting Eric's name.
"Eric," he quietly told her.
"Right, sorry, this is Eric," she finished introducing to her band.
"Er... pleased to meet you," Michelle said, picking her words carefully, not wanting to sound too much like an excited fan.
"Hey, don't be so nervous... save that for the stage," Katherine said with a grin, taking Michelle by the shoulder and leading her in. "Just relax, have a seat."
All three of them sat down, Katherine taking a seat beside Michelle on one of the vacant couches. Michelle wondered if she was always this friendly; she sure wouldn't have thought it from what she'd heard from the band's music. It was certainly a pleasant surprise.
"Hey, what did I tell you?" Katherine said, noticing that Michelle was still shaking nervously. "C'mon, don't be so tense. I'm not gonna bite."
"Don't listen to her. If she thinks you're pretty, she just might," one of the guys joked. There was a bit of laughter. Michelle glanced at Katherine, a bit confused.
"Hey now, don't scare her any more," Katherine said. "Way to make me look bad in front of her."
Michelle let out a tiny, nervous laugh.
"Don't mind them," Katherine told Michelle, turning to face her. "Typical men, and I think the prestige's gotten to their heads."
"I sure know what you mean...," she said with a bit of a smile, pointing at Eric.
"Oh, now that's low," Eric joked. "After all I've done for you, you just turn and cling to the first rocker chick you find? I feel so betrayed!"
"Can you blame her?" Katherine said with a grin. Michelle just sat there, laughing a bit again, but still clearly somewhat nervous. "So what's the deal with you two... is he your boyfriend?"
"Oh, no," Michelle quickly responded, a bit embarassed. "He's just a good friend. I... uh...," she trailed off.
"Mmmm. Right," Katherine replied.
"Yeah," Eric added, feeling much more comfortable. "My personal theory's that she's just gay, but she won't tell me."
Michelle blushed slightly, laughing a bit. "Oh, c'mon."
"Oh, reeaaally?" Katherine said with a wide grin, leaning closer to Michelle. "Will you tell me?"
"Shit, now she's got her sights on her," one of the guys joked. "Now your friend'll never be safe."
"Hmph!" was Katherine's only response.
Michelle glanced at Katherine uncomfortably, not sure how to respond. The attention flattered her, but she still shaked nervously.
"Wait, are... you gay?" Michelle found herself stammering; instantly regretting it the second afterwards.
"Oh, you just notice now!" she laughed, teasing Michelle with a light hit on the forehead. "You're a little bit slow, girl."
"Oh, er... sorry," she replied, flustered.
"See what I mean? Normally, you'll never get her to shut up, but the moment a pretty woman even looks at her, she just acts like this," Eric said.
"Eric!"
"Geeze, you're cruel," Katherine laughed. "No wonder she doesn't like you."
This kept on for a few minutes. They all laughed and joked around with eachother, Michelle sitting there, trying to have fun; but unable to be anything but nervous. She almost felt like she'd rather be up on the stage, even though she know she'd be even more frightened up there.
"So, uh, I must admit, I didn't really hear too much about you guys. All I was told was that a girl named Mars would be filling in for those other guys, but no other details," Katherine said. "Nothin' else. I would love to hear more about you... hell, what's your name?"
"Err...," Michelle stuttered quietly, puzzled at the question. "It's Michelle..."
"I know that... I meant, what's the name of your band," Katherine said, rolling her eyes, adding with a laugh, "Geeze, I take it back... you're not slow, you're just dumb. Girl, I think your head's as empty as your bra is."
Michelle paused for a moment, then stood up, clearly agitated, and walked out of the room without saying another word. She hadn't found it nearly as funny as Katherine did.
Katherine put her hand to her forehead. "Ah, shit."
Michelle made her way through the crowded bar, making her way up to the stage, getting a good look at it for the first time. The place was busy, and all around her it was rather noisy; but she just stared at the tiny makeshift stage with their instruments set up, unable to help but being intimidated by it. And then she thought about what she'd just stormed off from. Maybe I overreacted...
"Hey," Eric said to her, coming up from behind. "Katherine says she's sorry about that... she said she just got carried away."
"No... no, it's alright," Michelle answered, shaking her head. "I'm just nervous, and excited, and flustered, and... I don't know what. That was a stupid thing to get offended at."
"Hey, that's understandable," he told her. "She also said she'd like to buy you a drink to make up for it, after she finishes. She said she'd promise to play nice."
"Yeah...?" Michelle said, vacantly. "That's... that's nice. I think I'll take her up on that."
"Attagirl," Eric said with a smile.
Not long after that, someone came up to the microphone to give a quick introduction; and then it was time for the Mars Quartet to give their first live performance.
"Oh... let me tell you
about just how much I care
I try to sing a song for you
But the words just aren't there
I want to make it clear, now...," she started to sing the first verse.
Michelle stared out at the crowd-- most weren't paying attention, although the place did respectfully get a bit quiet when she came on stage. But she saw that a few people were watching, and that number increased as they continued to play. And the moment she started into her first song, the nervousness instantly disappeared; too busy getting wrapped up in the music to bother worrying about all the things that she thought she would be worried about.
They played a few songs, and once they finished their last, it felt like it didn't last long enough. Michelle was just about to walk off and let the Four Symbols take her place on stage, when she was interrupted by someone yelling.
"Encore!" someone yelled. Michelle looked for the source; it, of course, was from the tall, purple-haired woman, standing at the back. "Encore!," she shouted again.
Michelle glanced back at Eric, and then back at the crowd; it seemed like the ones that were paying attention to them approved.
"What do you think?" she said to him. "One last song?"
"Hm," he said, looking around for approval. The bartender gave him a thumbs up, and he decided. "Sure, why not. What'll it be?"
She leaned close to him, and whispered something.
"That's good with me," he answered. Then he started playing again.
"Thank you, everybody. Here's one last song... The Song Remains the Same!" Michelle said into the microphone with a huge smile. Then she picked up her guitar again, and started one last song; not one of her own writing, but it was her favourite song.
"Oooh
I had a dream
Crazy dream
Anything I wanted to know
Any place I needed to go
Hear my song, people won't you listen now?
Sing along! You don't know what you're missing now
Any little song that you know
Everything that's small has to grow
And it has to grow!"
As Michelle sang, she stared out into the audience, realizing how far she'd gone. Not for the first time, it amazed her. It amazed her that she'd actually managed to put out an album, that she was playing a gig in a bar, that a pretty lesbian guitarist wanted to buy her a drink; and most of all, that she had managed to get so far, finally recognized by those around her as a woman.
"California sunlight,
sweet Calcultta rain
Honolulu starbright"
She asked herself, does it get any better than this? God, this is fantastic.
And she continued to sing, realizing that both in life and in the moment, she was perfectly happy. And she reached her favourite line:
"The song remains the same!"