《Vell Harlan and the Doomsday Dorms》Chapter 37.3: Alive and In Concert

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One very deep breath later, Leanne was ready to speak. And so she did.

“I’ve been a fan of your music since I was six years old, I’ve bought every album you’ve ever made on release day, even the rereleases, I forced my mom to drive to ten different stores to find your limited edition makeup palette ten years ago, I dressed as you for my elementary school’s ‘Role Model Day’, I had an entire wall covered in your posters in high school, I named my first cat after your first album, I ran your fan website for three years, and the day I turned eighteen I snuck out of my mom’s house to get your song lyrics tattooed on my ribs.”

Leanne punctuated the breathless sentence by lifting her shirt a bit and revealing the three lines of song lyrics written on the lower half of her ribs. Roxy examined them and nodded approvingly. Leanne caught her breath, froze, and then shoved her shirt back down to it’s proper place.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, that was weird.”

“Honestly, that’s not even in the top fifty percent of the craziest things I’ve ever heard,” Roxy said. “I had a dude who said he crocheted a life sized doll of me. And, you know, lived through four years of looping. Saw a guy get turned into a giant talking pancake once. You got to try a lot harder to weird me out.”

“Sorry. I’m- I just, your music is really important to me, you know? And it’s just, really super weird that you’re here, and you’re a looper, and everything is just so insane.”

“It is pretty insane,” Roxy said. She set Labrys aside and took a seat, gesturing to Leanne to the next chair over. “Sounds like you got a few stories to tell.”

“I don’t want to take up your time,” Leanne said.

“I’m asking here, muscles,” Roxy said. “Pop a squat and tell me your life story. Let’s start with my favorite topic: me, and why I’m so important.”

The egocentric humor worked, and Leanne cracked a faint smile. In spite of her sheepishness, Leanne very much wanted to have a long chat with her role model, and she wasn’t humble enough to say no twice. Leanne took a seat, took a deep breath, and got started.

“Well, it’s just, my parents met at the Olympics, and they, well, uh, made me there, and then they had to go their separate ways,” Leanne began. Looking at Leanne’s muscular figure, Roxy wasn’t surprised to learn she was the child of two super-athletes. “My mom raised me in Finland, and my dad was in Australia, so I never really saw him. He tried to call whenever he could, and travel for the important birthdays and stuff, but he was never super involved.”

Leanne started to look at the ground.

“Growing up, I always kind of resented the fact that my family wasn’t ‘complete’. I took turns being angry at my mom, or my dad, or both of them at once, and I just...resented everything,” Leanne said. “And then one birthday, my dad came by for the celebration, and we went out to eat, and one of your songs started playing on the radio…”

“Ah, I was wondering when this story would start to be about me,” Roxy said. Her faux ego helped defuse a lot of the tension Leanne felt.

“I started humming along, and my mom noticed, and started singing along, and my dad started drumming on the table,” Leanne said with a smile. “And I got so embarrassed I ducked under the table, but my mom kept singing and my dad kept drumming and…”

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Leanne took a deep breath and the wistful smile spread further across her face.

“And I felt like my family was complete,” Leanne said. “Even if it was different, it was mine, and it was all okay. And every time I hear your songs I still remember what that felt like.”

Roxy gave a stiff nod and leaned back in her seat. She raised her hands above her head and tried to keep herself from getting all teary-eyed. She didn’t like to look soft in front of the fans. Messed with her punk aesthetic.

“So. Heck of a story. Most of my fans just say they really like my voice,” Roxy said. “But it’s only half what I’m wondering about. What’s this silent treatment thing about?’

“Well. I...You should know, you’ve been through this,” Leanne said. “The loop drives people crazy. Like, dying over and over, having days where you can do whatever you want? That fucks with people’s heads, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but in a cool way,” Roxy said. “In my experience, at least. Sounds like you’ve got some baggage.”

Starting off with a heavy sigh, Leanne explained the sordid history between herself, Naomi, and Dominic, punctuating it all with the recent story of how Naomi had gotten Leanne dumped. Roxy restrained the urge to cringe throughout.

“Christ fuck. You want to borrow Labrys and kill her?”

“If I wanted to kill her, I wouldn’t need a weapon to do it,” Leanne said. Roxy chuckled. Leanne didn’t.

“Well shit, that’s true enough,” Roxy said. “Sorry you got such a raw deal. And sorry the loop fucked with your friend so much. But you know, it doesn’t end up like that every time. I mean shit, me and half the loopers I worked with still share christmas cards every year. One of them even works for me, runs the marketing department. Kickass guy, you’d like him.”

“How?” Leanne pleaded. “How did you stay normal? How are you not insane, after four years of doing this, after coming back to do it again?”

In Leanne’s experience, every Looper came with their own baggage. Lijia Mian and Isaac Goodwell and Naomi and Dominic were all completely insane and untrustworthy, and even Lee, Harley, and Vell had their own unique neuroses. Roxy simply shrugged off the issue.

“Well, not to say what happens here isn’t weird as hell, but hey, weird, unexpected shit happens everywhere, to everyone,” Roxy said. “Right now, somewhere out there in the world, people are getting injured or finding out they’re pregnant or have a disease or falling in love or something like that, and by their standards all of that is just as weird and unexpected as the shit you deal with here. Death comes at you fast right here, but life comes at you fast out there.”

Roxy gestured to the wide world and scooted a little closer to Leanne.

“Life is chaos, Leanne. It’s laid on a bit thick at this school, yeah, but when you break it down it’s just more of the same shit,” Roxy said. “Friendships have ended over arguments about sports teams, that don’t mean sports are evil. I’m sorry you got a raw deal with your friend and your boyfriend there, Leanne, but that’s life. You’re only making it worse for yourself by blaming things and people that had nothing to do with it.”

Silence lurked in the dust lair as Leanne stared forward.

“So it just never stops, then? Life is just always like this?”

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“Slows down sometimes, but no,” Roxy said. “Never stops.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“Nobody in this world gets to choose what they go through, Leanne,” she said. “You want to know the trick? You do get to choose how you react while you go through it, and more importantly, you choose the people you go through it with.”

Roxy nodded towards the door and clapped Leanne on the shoulder.

“You’ve got a good crew here, Leanne,” she said. “If you’ve got their back, they’ll have yours, and you’ll all make it through this alright. I guarantee it.”

The reassurances of her idol helped push Leanne in the right direction, but not all the way. She bit her lip.

“I -I’ve got like three weeks left,” Leanne said. “After all this time, I don’t know if I can-”

Leanne stopped when Roxy slapped her in the back of the head.

“First of all, you’re a looper, so that’s more like six weeks,” she scolded. “Maybe like four and a half if the apocalypses happen early in the day.”

Roxy stood and hefted Labrys in her hands once again, this time holding it in a reverse grip, the way one would hold a guitar.

“And secondly…”

Roxy leaned on the chair she had once been sitting on, Labrys resting gently on her thigh, and pretended to strum the axe/guitar.

“Don’t tell me what to do with my time,” she sang. Leanne turned red in the face. Roxy leaned in even closer and repeated herself. “Don’t tell me what to do with my time…”

“Because I do what I want, when I want,” Leanne sang back, relenting to Roxy’s pressure. With an emphatic step back and a pump of her imaginary guitar, Roxy finished out the lyric.

“As hard as I want it,” Roxy finished off. She then pointed firmly at Leanne. “Get that tattooed under your other boob so you don’t forget it.”

“Sure, I will.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Roxy said. “You show up with that tatted on your chest, you got a backstage pass to my next concert. Trust.”

The two shook on it, with Leanne shaking a bit too eagerly. Roxy would have to keep a seat backstage prepped.

“But seriously, Muscles,” Roxy said. “Do the best you can with the time you got. That’s all any of us can do.”

“I will,” Leanne said. “I promise.”

“Good!” Roxy said. She held Labrys in her hands fondly one last time and then thrust the axe towards Leanne. “Do me a favor and take the old battleaxe back to the locker, would you? All this jawing made me miss my sound check.”

Leanne took the axe and nodded. Roxy winked and headed for the door.

“Come back to my trailer after the show’s done,” Roxy said. “Bring the squad. Got a bit more to say to all you looper’s.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Leanne said.

After a concert that was entirely heartstopping in quality and entirely impossible to describe via text, Roxy wrapped up her third encore and took a moment to breath.

“Listen kids, I love every single one of you bastards but if I do any more of this my fingers are going to start bleeding,” Roxy shouted into the mic. “And I need those to pick my nose with. Thank you, good night!”

Roxy gave a peace sign and peaced out, walking off stage and leaving the cheering crowd behind. She took a moment to wipe the sweat off her face and get a drink of water before returning to her trailer. In spite of the exhaustion that came with a long night performing, she put on a brave face for the four loopers.

“So. Best show you’ve ever seen, or best show you’ve ever seen?”

Lee gave a polite round of applause while Vell and Leanne cheered more boisterously. Harley waited until they quieted down to offer her opinion.

“Eh, my parents took me to see The Wiggles when I was a kid, so..”

“Well that’s not fair, I can’t compete with the fucking Wiggles,” Roxy moaned. She acted pitiable for a moment before busting out into a laugh, and Harley joined her.

“You know, I really get why these two like you so much,” Harley said. Roxy took her by the shoulder and shook her lightly.

“And I definitely see why they like you,” Roxy said. “Keep an eye on them for me. Lee, good seeing you again, I promise to threaten your mom with continued guitar-based violence next time I see her.”

“Please do,” Lee said. “And record it if possible.”

“Natch,” Roxy said. At last, she turned to her final two targets, and her two biggest fans. “Thanks for letting an old lady get back in the game for a bit. Haven’t had that much fun in years.”

Roxy grabbed Vell and Leanne both by the shoulder and spun them around to face the wall of guitars she carted with her everywhere. Each one had a unique design, hand-painted by Roxy herself.

“Take your pick. Want you to have something to remember me by,” Roxy said. She paused and reconsidered her own words. “I mean, not that you’d forget. This one’s got my song written on her ribs, so...still you know what I’m going for, right? Take a guitar.”

It took a bit more cajoling to get Vell to accept the gift, but eventually he reached forward and removed a cherry red electric guitar from the wall.

“Excellent taste,” Roxy said. She picked up the guitar and signed her name on it before handing it over to Vell. “There you go, for authenticity. And also my phone number’s on there, if you ever need some advice with a loop. Or want to get laid by telling a chick you know me.”

Vell nodded and examined his newly claimed prize. Leanne, in contrast to Vell’s indecisiveness, knew exactly what she was looking for, it just took a while for her to find it. Towards the back of the rack, towards the oldest, most beaten down guitars (and a few that had been completely shattered during particularly exuberant performances), Leanne found a single deep brown acoustic, with a few splinters knocked out of the side from being dropped more than once.

“Old school, huh?” She examined the old, splintered guitar

Leanne nodded. Roxy had played this guitar in some of her earliest shows, played to small audiences in half-empty bars. Leanne hadn’t even been old enough to be allowed in the venues, but she’d tracked down videos on the internet and played them all a thousand times over. She’d emailed her dad every time, for him to watch along. Though as an adult Leanne realized that he had probably not watched the videos despite saying he had. That didn’t bother her too much, though.

Satisfied that they were satisfied, Roxy finished putting her signature and number on Leanne’s guitar, then clapped them both on the shoulders and then gave them a light shove towards the door.

“Alright, love you guys, had a great time, but it is time to get this show on the road,” Roxy said. “Or on the immaterial aetherial transport, as it were. Seriously, this trailer’s getting teleported in like two minutes, you guys got to go.”

Roxy shepherded the younger loopers towards the door. She genuinely liked them all, but she didn’t want to be responsible for anyone getting accidentally teleported off the island.

“Wait, the school’s paying to teleport you? On top of your performance fee?” Lee questioned aloud. “Where did Goodwell get the budget for that?”

“Hell if I know, but text me when you figure that out,” Roxy said. Then she pushed her fellow loopers out the door, inviting Huel inside in their place.

“Say goodbye, Huel,” Roxy requested. Huel gave her a blank look and then stepped inside. “He’s cool, he just takes his job too seriously. Adios, muchachos! Catch you on the flip side!”

Roxy gave a sharp salute, and with perfect timing, the trailer and all it’s contents vanished, whisked away by magical forces to some unknown next stop on Roxy’s musical journey. The four remaining loopers stared at an empty space where the trailer had once been.

“Well that was pretty cool,” Harley said.

“Yeah, it was,” Leanne replied. Harley practically jumped at the sound of her voice.

“Hey, three whole words,” Harley said. “That’s a new record.”

“How about four, then?”

Harley considered her response to that a bit more carefully.

“Are you, like, talking normally now?” She asked. “Is that a thing? It’s okay if it’s not a thing, I’m just asking-”

“It’s a thing,” Leanne said. “As long as you don’t annoy me too much.”

“Sweet! On the note of not annoying you too much, I should probably leave,” Harley said. “Night guys!”

Harley sped off into the night to mingle with the aftermath of the concert crowd. Lee gave a brief curtsy and announced her own departure, to go investigate some of Goodwell’s very generous uses of the school budget. Alone near the stage, Leanne and Vell took a moment to examine the gifted guitars they held.

“Do you know how to play guitar?” Vell asked.

“Not at all,” Leanne said.

“Oh. Me neither.”

“Hmm.”

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