by Kylie Parker
“What are you guys talking about?” she asked, leaning towards Monica, on her right. But, just when Monica was about to verbalize, she heard the same acoustic guitar, the wonderful introduction of Alannah Myles’ blues ballad “Black Velvet” from the speakers. What’s more, Kate tilted her head to the right to get a better look at Isabelle.
“Izzy, I think this one’s for you…” she murmured and pointed upwards and to the left, at the speaker on the far left corner of the wall.
“It’s what?” She squinted at her.
“Just listen to it…” Kate winked at Isabelle and gave her a crooked smile. As much as Monica wanted to avoid this, it was happening right before her eyes: Isabelle was listening to a song that describes a man exactly like Dean, sang by one of the few female singers with a powerful, sexy voice, like Alannah Myles. Originally released in the same year Monica was born (1989) and performed by a gorgeous Canadian, “Black Velvet” was sure to send chills down Isabelle’s spine.
Just like Monica expected, Isabelle placed both elbows on the counter, leaned forward, and went on to put her hands on her face, as soon as she heard the following lyric:
The boy could sing, knew how to move, everything
Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for
However, even as the song went on, the young woman would not take her eyes off her face. Upon hearing the next, heartbreaking lyric, a few seconds later:
The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true
Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for
Isabelle slowly took her right hand off her cheek and put it back on the counter. Monica noticed a tear rolling down her face, eventually falling on her friend’s jeans. Then, she turned her face to the left and glared at Kate:
“You couldn’t keep your big mouth shut, could ya?” she yelled. Amazingly, Kate did not even twitch. She even smiled at Monica and shrugged her shoulders, as if she had done nothing wrong.
“What can I say…I love that song, Mon. By the way, Alannah Myles is playing at the Garden tomorrow. I can get us tickets if you like…”
“The Garden?”
“Yeah. Madison Square Garden. New York.” Kate announced to Monica. She was excited to find out about the venue but, at the same time, Monica was worried about her friend. It had been four months since her breakup with Dean and Isabelle was clearly not over him yet.
Monica looked back at Isabelle, expecting to see an emotional wreck. For some strange reason, though, her friend had taken her hands off her face. Sitting up straight, she was rhythmically swaying her shoulders from side to side, while tapping her hands on the counter. Looking down at her feet, Monica noticed that Isabelle was tapping her feet along with the music, on the foot rest.
Out of the blue, Isabelle even grabbed her glass and downed the rest of her drink.
“Hey, bartender!” she yelled.
“How ‘bout a refill? No vodka martini this time. I’ll have what she’s having!” Isabelle pointed at Monica’s glass with her right index finger.
“Come on, baby!” She clapped her hands and hopped off her stool. Two and a half minutes into the song, Isabelle was slowly getting lost in its passion, its sensuality and, more importantly, the painful memories it brought back. Not only did she like it but, to Monica’s utter shock, right after she jumped off her stool, Monica and Kate could not believe their eyes: Their friend was turning into someone they could not recognize anymore.
Isabelle placed her hands on her hips and bent her knees. Sensually swaying them from side to side, she slowly glided them upwards. Within seconds, they were on her stomach. Her fingertips were pressing against her flesh, as Isabelle performed a sexy dance. The DJ from across the hall pumped up the volume. “Black Velvet” and Isabelle had become one. Even at five feet away and in dim light, Monica could easily spot the change of color on her friend’s fingertips as she pressed them against her own body: They had turned white.
“Come on, Mon…Come on!” Isabelle yelled. She abruptly took her hands off her ribcage and curled her right index finger. Monica’s jaw dropped; Isabelle continued her erotic dance by bringing her hands to each side of her neck. Her fingertips squeezed it gently before they traveled upward. She stroked the flesh under her ear lobes for two seconds. Isabelle ran her two index fingers across her jawline and slowly brought them back on her neck. A sexy squeeze followed and, right after that, she tilted her head slightly back. The young woman closed her eyes; her seductive dance was not over yet. A second later, she ran her fingers through her hair and started rubbing her palms against her head.
“Black Velvet” was almost over. Isabelle squeezed a tear out of her left eye, listening to Alannah Myles’s majestic, passionate voice, repeating the third –and last- “If you please.” She kept swaying her hips back and forth and from side to side during the 50-second long outro. As soon as the song was over, Monica and Kate witnessed Isabelle taking three steps back. With her back against the wall, she bent her knees again and slowly slid her back down the wall. Finally, Isabelle sat on the floor and pulled both knees to her chest. She tilted her head forward and wrapped her arms around them.
Stunned by the sight, Isabelle’s friends could not even utter a word. However, they had to soothe her. Within seconds, they realized that they had a bigger problem. The trio was not alone. Dozens of customers on the right side of the club had witnessed Isabelle’s sensual dance. When the song was over, they burst into applause.
“Oh, my God! Kate, help me out here!” Monica could not hide her fear, as she jumped off her seat.
“I wouldn’t worry about…them.” They heard the bartender’s voice. He had a bottle of “Jack Daniels” whiskey in his right hand, refilling Isabelle’s glass.
“We get that a lot. After all, this is a dance club…” he continued.
“Whatever…” Kate murmured and followed Monica.
“I’m sorry, you guys…” Isabelle looked up at her friends; Monica was on her left while on Kate was on her right.
“It just brought back so many memories…” Isabelle’s voice got thicker. Monica sat on her knees and leaned towards her, and so did Kate.
“I’m just glad you were sober, sweetheart. I mean, let’s face it: If you were drunk, you’d probably turn this place into a strip club…” Monica teased her. Isabelle could not help but smile at her friend.
“You got that right,” Kate agreed.
“Now, let’s get drunk…” She added.
“Drunk?!” Monica exclaimed.
“Relax, Mon. We’ll keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t get outta line. She has to let it out of her system…” Kate tried to reassure and convince Monica.
“Ok…” She nodded and took Isabelle’s right hand in her palms.
“Come on, Izzy. Let’s get you up…”
Monica and Kate picked Isabelle up and helped her sit back on her stool. Just when Kate was about to take a seat, her phone rang.
“Guys, I need to take this…Excuse me, will ya?”
Monica nodded at her and then looked back at the bartender.
“Leave the bottle…” she ordered him. He was refilling Isabelle’s glass for the second time.
“Sure thing, ma’am.” He complied.
“Mon…” She heard Isabelle’s voice.
“What’s that chick’s name again? The singer…”
“Oh…Alannah Myles. Her real name’s Byles, but she changed it after her father died, back in 1988. Why?” Monica got suspicious.
“I heard Kate talking about a concert tomorrow night…” Isabelle had been blown away by the Canadian’s talent.
“Oh, my God, Izzy. Don’t tell me you wanna go to a concert in New York, because of one song,” Monica leaned towards her; she had not finished what she had to say.
“Do I need to remind you what that song did to you?” She opened her eyes wide and glared at Kate.
“What if I do, Mon…? Come on; you’ve been a pain in my ass about that 80’s stuff for months
now. I’m doing ya a favor, sweetheart.” She grinned at Monica, raising her right eyebrow.
“And what about our road trip, Izzy? I don’t think Kate’s gonna like it…”
“It can wait another day, baby…” Monica heard Kate’s voice. Before she could even look over her right shoulder, Monica saw Kate’s hands on the stool next to her.
“Well…This is gonna be fun.” Monica finally smiled at Kate and then at Isabelle.
“Ok, Kate…Let’s raise our glasses to our friend. The one and only…Wait for it…Isabelle Miles!” Monica proposed a toast to Kate.
Witnessing the whole thing, Isabelle leaned towards Monica. After she had wrapped her arms around her taller friend’s back, she put her head on her shoulder, looked up at her and gave her one of her sweetest smiles.
“Thank you, Monica…”
The trio spent three hours that night in Eighteenth Street Lounge, listening to 80’s and 90’s music. Monica and Kate knew most of the songs, unlike Isabelle who had no idea about them. Incredibly, Kate even knew some of the trivia, behind certain smash hits like Deep Purple’s “Smoke On The Water.” She confessed to Isabelle that she started listening to retro music much longer before Monica had.
At 00:20 and two bottles of Jack Daniels later, the trio returned to Monica’s apartment. Too drunk to drive, they had to get a cab.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Isabelle was the first to wake up the following morning, at 9:45am. Despite the amount of whiskey she had had to drink the night before; Isabelle only had a tiny headache. It seemed that Monica had chosen Jack Daniels for more reasons than just its sweetness. None of the three friends were raging alcoholics, but, like most people, sometimes they just had to drink a little more than usual.
With a mug of black coffee in her left hand, in nothing more than a pair of pink shorts and a red tank top, Isabelle sat on Monica’s couch, eager to research Alannah Myles and discover for herself just what she would be in for that night. So, she picked up Monica’s laptop from the small table in front of her and went online.
“Hmmm. Alannah Myles. Born in 1958, in Toronto, Canada. Damn, that chick used to look great!
Isabelle was right. The Canadian-born singer indeed was a very attractive woman in her prime: 5’5”, with long, black, curly hair, light-blue eyes, curly eyelashes, high cheekbones, a straight-edged nose, thin lips, and a very sexy jawline. Her deep, sexy, feminine voice sounded intoxicating. Isabelle put Monica’s white headphones on and watched a few of her videos on YouTube: “Still Got This Thing for You,” “Song Instead Of A Kiss,” and “Love is”. She avoided watching the “Black Velvet” video at first, but, fifteen minutes later, she just could not resist the temptation.
With the sound of it filling her ears for the second time in a few hours, Isabelle closed her eyes again and let the slow, sensual beat control her body. Too drowsy to get up and start dancing around again, she leaned against the couch. Flashing images of Dean immediately rushed through her mind…
“I can’t help but wonder, Dean. How the hell could someone write a song about you, back in 1989? I mean, you were just five years old. Damn, I miss you so much…
Isabelle had to bite her lower lip throughout the entire song, in a desperate attempt to hold back the tears. And, just when she thought she could not take it anymore, she sensed a hand on her left shoulder. She looked up, at the person on her left. It was Monica, in a white tee and yellow shorts.
“Good morning, Izzy. I see you’ve been…busy.” She smiled down at her.
“Good morning, Monica. Yeah, I thought I should take a look at her…career. I wonder if she still sounds as good as she used to, you know, back in the day…” Grateful that she had barely escaped one more trip down memory lane, Isabelle put her hands on both sides of Monica’s laptop and eased it down on the table.
“Hey, what time is it?” Isabelle asked.
“It’s 10:10. Why?”
“Well, don’t we have to be in New York tonight?”
“Relax, Izzy. The Garden’s not going anywhere. Besides, the concert’s in eleven hours or something. We got plenty of time.” Monica appeased her.
“That song got you pretty worked up, didn’t it?” Monica teased her again.
“Yeah, it did…” Isabelle sighed.
“I hope I get to hear it tonight. Live versions are supposed to be better than studio edits, aren’t they?” She then had a question.
“It depends.” They heard Kate’s voice in the corridor. Three seconds later, she emerged, wearing red shorts and a black, sleeveless tee.
“Yeah, most of the time live versions are better. But, Alannah’s going to rock our world tonight, guys. Trust me…” Kate leaned against the wall on her right and folded her arms across her chest, smiling at Isabelle and Monica.
“Have you seen her perform lately?” Monica was getting curious.
“Well…Not exactly, but my cousin in California has. She played the Staples Center last year,” Kate answered with a smile on her face.
“Anyway…Kate, how long did it take you to drive here yesterday?” Isabelle could not wait to go to the concert.
“Um…Four, five hours maybe. Oh, don’t tell me you wanna leave before lunch, Izzy.” Kate did not want to hear about it.
“Why’s that?”
“Because it’s like a hundred degrees out there, sweetheart. Even in an air-conditioned car, like my Benz, it’s gonna be really hot. We’re not leaving here before 2pm,” Kate responded, in a firm tone.
“I can’t believe you, Izzy…” Monica muttered.
“I mean, until last night, you hadn’t even heard of her, and now you just can’t wait to go to one of her concerts.” Covering her mouth with her right hand and still standing on Isabelle’s left, Monica burst into laughter. Kate followed, adding to Isabelle’s frustration.
“Oh, come on, you guys…I just wanna have some…fun. What’s so bad about that?” It was one of the few times that Isabelle did not want to be laughed at.
“Nothing’s wrong with that, sweetie. Kate, I think we should leave by noon. It’s gonna be crowded. We need to get good seats if we wanna enjoy this, don’t you think?
“Don’t you worry about seats, Mon. Didn’t I tell you last night? A friend of mine’s working at the Garden. She’ll hook us up with front row tickets. We’ll have the best view in the house…” Finishing her sentence, Kate winked at Monica and raised her eyebrows, just before she turned around and returned to her bedroom, fifteen feet down the hall, on the left.
“Who the hell is this friend? Do we know her?” Isabelle rose from her seat. She could not imagine who Kate was talking about.
“Your guess is as good as mine, Izzy. But, I’m positive we’re gonna have a lot of fun tonight…”
Chapter Thirty-Three
At 8:45pm, the trio was at Madison Square Garden, located in Pennsylvania Plaza, New York. With a field size of 820,000 square feet, it was a massive place. However, they had to push their way through the crowd. “The Garden,” as most people call it, was already packed with more than 20,000 people in the stands and 3,000 more in the arena. It was well lit, as if a basketball game was about to start.
Alannah Myles’ concert had not started yet; it was scheduled for 9pm. Just like the night before, the three friends were not actually dressed up. Isabelle wore a knee-length, denim skirt, an orange tank top, and a pair of black, ankle-high boots, while Kate preferred to wear tight jeans, a light-blue, sleeveless tee. Monica loved her leather outfit and would not even consider putting on anything else.
A few meters into the arena, Kate saw a huge man in a black security uniform and a matching cap approaching her fast from the left. He was at least 6’4” and looked quite stocky.
“Ms. Stinson?” he yelled.
“Yeah?”
“Follow me.”
Monica looked at Isabelle, over her right shoulder. She was five feet behind her.
“Who the hell is that guy? Is Kate some kind of a celebrity her
e?” she wondered. Isabelle shrugged her shoulders. After fifteen minutes of pushing through the crown again, the three friends reached the front part of the arena. They were forced to stop right behind a large, gray barrier, which separated the tall stage, less than fifteen feet in front of them from the arena. Then, the big security guard leaned forward and whispered something in Kate’s left ear.
Still completely ignorant, Isabelle and Monica stepped forward and stood on Kate’s right left and right, accordingly.
“Hey…” Isabelle had to yell in order to draw Kate’s attention.
“What?”
“Didn’t you say your friend here was a woman?” she asked.
“Yeah, that’s her husband…” Kate responded. Satisfied with her reply, Isabelle glanced at the electronic clock, on the left wall. It was 9:05pm. Burning with anticipation, she looked around her. Thousands upon thousands of people were in the stands, patiently waiting for the same thing: Alannah Myles’ concert. On the massive stage, Isabelle observed two large, oval-shaped, portable lights and a drum set in the middle, but way down the stage, almost on the edge of it. Exactly over the portable lights, she also saw a black, iron row of much smaller, green, red, and blue lights, neatly placed next to each other.
“Come on, Alannah. Don’t keep us waiting. Wait a minute. What’s that?
A sudden power outage interrupted Isabelle’s thoughts. Every light was switched off. The arena was buzzing with anticipation. Five seconds later, the two portable lights abruptly rolled upwards and two, shiny lights lit up the Garden. A deafening thud shook the building as a massive missile-like firework shot up, from the back of the stage. At the same time, five spotlights cast light on it.
