I Blame the Dimples by Jade Everhart

Author:Jade Everhart [Everhart, Jade]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-07-02T16:00:00+00:00

“Next up, we’ve got the other half of the team that has been dominating tonight… the Lavishing Leather Ladies!” The rowdy bar gets rowdier as Cody and I take the stage. Scanning the audience, I spot Trip and blow her a kiss for luck. I don’t see the returning scowl as the lights start to dim, but the shot of adrenalin filling my veins makes me believe it’s there.

As planned, Cody takes the right side of the stage while I take the left. Grasping the microphone in my hand, I tilt my head towards the ground. Cody mirrors my stance from the other side and we wait for the beat to kick in.

“…You’re insecure, don’t know what for,” I start us off and a hushed silence falls among the bar. “You’re turning heads when you walk through the do-or,” I pass the spotlight off to Cody who takes the lead without hesitation.

“Don’t need makeup to cover up. Being the way that you are is enou-ou-ough,” We swagger over to the middle of the stage, hands clapping boy band style, singing somewhat in harmony. “…Everyone else in the room can see it; everyone else but you, ooh.”

I hear Stella’s shriek as the One Direction tribute finally sets in. Killing the dead silence in the room, the shriek startles the rockers out of their pop shock and they slowly join in on our chorus.

“Baby, you light up my world like nobody else; the way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed; but when you smile at the ground, it ain’t hard to tell.” I pretend to flip my gelled spikes while Cody holds the microphone towards the audience for some crowd participation.

As one the bar sings, “YOU DON’T KNOW, OH-OH! YOU DON’T KNOW YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL.” Fully embracing the energy of the room, Cody and I launch into motion: chucking the microphone back and forth between one another, hopping in time to the music; all the while shedding clothing layers and tossing them to the screaming crowd. Somewhere in the three and a half minutes, Cody’s jacket and plain white t-shirt gets lost off-stage, while my red tie becomes a fan favourite for the group of girls screaming my stage name.

“BILLIE, WE LOVE YOU!” The chants have me slowly unbuttoning my black dress shirt; the screams getting louder as the buttons go lower.

As the last chorus comes around, Cody and I pull off one last stunt: finishing the tribute with a couple of backflips. Some form of higher power must have been shining down on us because we both manage to land them – something we’ve never managed to do during practice – and as the song comes to a close, we hold out our arms in triumph.

The rockers jump to their feet as Cody and I hold our positions, letting the mortals enjoy the sight of our sweat-soaked skin a little bit longer. Based on the glistening eyes in the audience, I’m ninety-nine percent sure the impromptu strip tease is cause for the standing ovation, but hey, victory is ours.

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