Pale Imitation

By: Get Your Wings

The Prologue

There are some things you just can’t tell a person. Some thing that are too personal, too deep. And then, there are the things that everyone ends up knowing. You know what I mean? Let me try to explain it this way…My whole life is like a scratched record, with the bits of a song you love blocked out. Don’t you hate when that happens?

I do. I hate it when it stops, when the music isn’t playing anymore…and so do the women in my life. It’s why we got along so well, why we meshed together. Even though I started out being very different from them, we really weren’t so different.

We all had hopes, and dreams. We all fell in love, got our hearts broken.

They called themselves Band-Aids. They supported the band, the music but they didn’t sleep with them. Or so, that’s what they said. But everyone knew better. After all, what woman can resist Mick Jagger crooning in your ear that you’re the most beautiful little girl he’s ever seen?

I know I couldn’t. It was too hard. Too hard to resist the music, the lights. Too hard to resist the wonderful men.

Sometimes though, you have secrets. Sometimes though, there are times when you’re sick of them. Sick of watching the newest, brightest jewel walk up and take your place. She told me that’s when you act like you don’t care. Give them a frosty look, ignore them once or twice. And they come right back to you.

Ignore the wives and girlfriends. When they are on the road, it’s the road and anyone is game. The wives and girlfriends know this and some accept it.

It’s a long and lonely road, as I found out. But the Band-Aids we stick through it together. A support system. Those who understand.

Act I

1977

“Tan?” I felt someone shake me out of my reverie. It was Sapphire. She’s smiling at me and flipped her dark hair back. “We got some new girls, Tan. I need your help. Someone’s asking if that song was really wrote about you.”

I laughed, and rose. “Oh they want to know about Tangerine do they?” I asked, giving Sapphire a smile. None would ever compare to the fabulous Penny Lane, who mysteriously dropped out a few years ago. Nobody had seen her since. I wondered about her, the golden-haired goddess who had taken me under her wing.

“Yeah. Come on. Oh, and you got something too. Mick has it, he’s waiting on you. He says he won’t wait for long.” Sapphire warned.

I grinned. “I know that.” I said with a giggle. And yes, you can guess what Mick she’s talking about, can’t you? I hooked my arm through Sapphire’s. “Well, let’s go dazzle the little wings, shall we?”

Together, we walked into the hallway. The girls were sitting where the buffet was, all of them looking youthful, excited. I remember that look. I remember feeling like that myself. “Hello, little wings.” I greeted. “I’m Tangerine. I see you met my friend Sapphire.”

“Is Penny Lane here?” Asked a curly red-headed girl who looked no older than thirteen for her face, but her eyes told another story. “I want to meet her. She’s been everywhere!”

“Sadly Miss Penny Lane isn’t here. But, there are others who can help you. Share the experience.” I said. “Like Sapphire and myself.”

“When do we get to go? I’m so excited.” This came from a tall, blonde who wore very little.

“We’ll leave when the band’s ready. You will know when that happens.” I told her curtly, enjoying when her face fell. She was used to being beautiful and having what she wanted, when she wanted it. That attitude would get her nowhere. Especially in this circus. Better that she learn it now.

She looked defeated, but then smiled. “I can’t wait. It’s going to be so exciting. Hearing music every night, being with the men who wrote it….why, it’ll be just like a rock song.”

I skipped my eyes to Sapphire who looked amused. The new ones, bless them. They always had a soft spot in my heart.

As I had once been a new one, with no place to call my own except the place she gave me…

1972

Music blared out of the speakers at the party I was at. While Ozzy Osbourne’s monstrous vocals relaxed me, I was still on nerves. I’d been homeless the past few days, until a friend of a friend brought me here. I couldn’t pay attention to much--until I glimpsed her. This extravagant blond woman, wearing a green faux fur coat, and John Lennon glasses.

To this day, I still don’t understand how we winded up at the same place, the same party. It was the luck of the draw on my account, most surely. It had to be.

Her hair, as strange as it sounds drew me to her. A mass of golden curls. I walked towards her and then backed down, started to turn away. But she saw me first. “Hello?” She asked, sounding very interested. She had been talking to someone, and ignored all of what they were saying as I approached her.

I couldn’t interrupt this conversation. But yet, I needed to and I don’t know why she was the one I sought out. It wasn’t like we had anything in common, wasn’t like we knew one another. She was a stranger. Everyone here was a stranger…

And the past few weeks, it crashed on me. I started to cry. Big tears, I could feel them, dripping down my cheeks. When I gazed at her she looked worried. “Hey.” I heard the click clack of her shoes as they walked closer to me, could smell her perfume. An oriental scent. “What’s wrong?” She sounded like she really wanted to know.

I looked up. “I’m sorry. I won’t bother you--” I turned, and she reached out to grab me.

“No, don’t be. You want to talk?”

I don’t know why I even trusted this girl. She looked like the others--but there was something…more about her. There would always be something more about her.

“Yeah.”

She nodded, and lead me away from the burgeoning crowded party. “Something happened to make you come here, right?” She asked, looking at me like she’d known me a long time. “Come on, tell me. Wait. Let me guess. I’m better at guessing.” She closed her eyes, swaying to the beat of the music. “You had to leave home.”

I gasped! How did she know that?

“I’m right.” She said. She took off her jacket looked at me and lead me into what looked like a closet. “And why did you feel the need to run away from home?” This blonde goddess asked, shutting the door behind us. It was stifling hot in this little closet, but she didn’t seem to mind. Her perfume was cloying.

“I--”

“You can tell me. They all tell me sooner or later.” She said.

“I don’t even know you.” I protested. “You don’t want to know about me and all of my emotional shit.”

“Sure I do.” She said. “That’s why I’m here. I…help.” She swung out her arms elegantly, making me love her.

“Well.” I thought a moment, and nodded. “Ok.” I said. “It all started a few months ago.” I sighed, then felt my eyes well up with tears, thinking about it. “It all started when my mom remarried.”

She was a good listener, adept. She never asked questions, never took her eyes off you while you were speaking. I told her the whole sordid story… How my mother had remarried after my father’s death, how she married a younger man with a kid my own age. I told her about when my own new stepbrother had assaulted me and nobody believed me. He lied and called me a whore. My own mother took his side. When he tried it again, I had to get away.

So I left home.

San Francisco hadn’t been an easy city to come to. I thought it would be, with all the talk about love and everything here.

Lies. All lies.

I drifted in and about. I finally met some kids who took pity on me, showed me where I could stay. I never had much of a solid place. Somehow I found a ride to the Still Water concert. I had no money, no ticket of my own. I told the people I was with that it didn’t matter, I just wanted to sit near the stadium and hear the music, even if I couldn’t see it. But it gave me hope, hearing the music. It gave me a reason to want to live.

I had to hear Fever Dog live, even if I couldn’t see it.

Had to.

Fever dog…scratching at my back door…

Just now, thinking about that song sends shivers up and down my spine. There’s something about rock music, and how it heals me. After my step brother’s assault, I listened to Black Sabbath for a week straight. Ozzy’s dark vocals soothed my broken soul.

She nodded as though she’d known about the story this whole time. “And so, you found me. It was meant to be.” She studied me for a long time, closing her eyes and then opening them. “You were meant to come to me.” She winked at me.

“Meant?” I was confused. Sometimes she never made much sense. “What’s your name?”

That’s when we heard the shouts. “Penny! Penny Lane!” A clamor, really.

She gave me that simple smile of hers, and took my hand. “Come on. They’re calling us.”

I liked how she said us, even though it was really ‘her’ they wanted. As, it would always be. I was but a pale imitation of what she tried to make me into, so she could escape.

A pretty girl with light brown hair threw herself into my savior’s arms. “Penny!” She squealed and they both started jumping up and down. Penny motioned for me, and brought me closer. “Polexia.” She said. “I’d like you to meet…” Penny paused here, and eyed me up and down. She narrowed one eye. “I’d like you to meet--Tangerine.”

Tangerine? What the fuck?

“Tangerine?” Apparently that’s what Polexia was thinking, too. And then, she smiled. “Oh. Like the Led Zeppelin song. Cute. I love it.” She smiled and held out both hands. Confused, I let her grip my hands. “Welcome!” She said. “You’ll love it, absolutely love it. Where is Sapphire?”

“She’s in Phoenix. With Alice.” Penny told us. “She’ll be here soon, though.”

Wait a minute. Alice? As in, Cooper? I wanted to ask but didn’t want to appear lame.

Polexia just smiled, and shook her head. “Interesting.” She said. “We have to go, Penny. Still Water. Jeff has invited me.”

Jeff. Jeff Bebe? I swallowed a little. “You know Still Water?”

Polexia seemed amused by my innocence. “Yes. I know them. They’re great guys.” She told me. “You a fan?”

How could I tell her how I felt about the music, how it had saved me? I started to, but a mere shake of the head from Penny stopped me. It could wait.

“Of course she’s a fan. Who isn’t? Fever Dog is at the top of the charts.”

If You Say Nothing was a good song, too. I thought. “If You Say Nothing is better.” I told the girls. Penny tilted her head and observed me for several moments. A small smile came to her face, and went. “Come on, girls. We have lots to do. Tangerine is with us.” She said, indicating I should follow.

“Where are we going?” Polexia inquired. She was a lovely girl, beautiful, but there was this…softness about her. She was fragile.

“We’re going to the concert, of course.” Penny Lane said as though that was the most obvious thing in the world.

“The concert?” Polexia seemed confused, eyes knitted together. “But Penny, I thought you were retired.”

Another one of those knowing-all smiles. This time, Penny glanced to me. “I am.” She said. She threaded her arm through mine. “I really, really am.”

And if I had only known what she had wanted me for, what she wanted to make me into…well, I still would’ve done it. Every single damn bit.