Page 31 of Doc Rock
Twenty-two years ago
Mai sat nervously, staring up at the tiny stage, clutching her guitar as she waited for her turn to audition for Ford’s band.
She tugged on her newly dyed and straightened black hair. Her mum had cried when Mai walked out of the bathroom after using a box dye, but she still helped her clean up her hairline and straighten it.
Her eyes watered a little from the violet contact lenses she put in that morning, determined she would never wear her thick glasses again, and she blinked constantly, unused to the mass of eyeliner and heavy mascara.
When she looked in the mirror, she hadn’t recognised herself. She now looked like the girls who hung around with the band, rather than the little blonde girl who got ignored.
She found that when you were short with blonde, curly hair, people assumed that you were younger than your actual age and dismissed you, thinking you were a child.
Now with her new look, she’d alreadyheardsome whispered comments while she queued up next to the community centre stage to audition that she looked like an‘angry chick’. She would take it, asit wasbetter than being dismissed as a little kid.
She had been coming to the community centre a couple of times a week since she was thirteen, watching the boys practise together and, over the years,getbetter and better.
Ford usually played guitar and sang, but a month ago, a sign had gone up on the noticeboard.
They wanted someone else on lead guitar.
She was always on the periphery of the crowd of kids that the boys hung around with. They never spoke to her, but she listened in on plenty of conversations, and she’dheardthem sayit wastime togetmore serious with the music.
They couldn’t do that if Ford was trying to be the frontman and lead guitarist.
So here she was, sixteen years old, and clutching an electric guitar she played as if she were born with one in her hands. She had practised untilit wasas natural to her as breathing.
She wanted this so badly.
She wanted to be part of this band.
She wanted Ford to notice her.
“Next up, we have Sie,”Ford announced in a voice that sent shivers down her spine.
Walking onto the stage, she displayed a confidence, almost arrogance, that she didn’tfeel. She didn’t bother to speak into the microphone to introduce herself or explain why they should choose her.
All of the boys had, talking with voices that hadn’t quite settled into their adult baritones. To her, it didn’t matter what they said; they were only here to play.
Some were okay on guitar, but none were as good as her. Watching their swagger, though, they all clearly thought theycouldbe Rock Gods.
She was here to show them that they didn’t need another God for their band.
They needed a Goddess.
Staring straight into the audience of three, plus the handful of boys who had already auditioned, she lifted her eyebrow arrogantly and curled her lip.
She wasSie Harrington. Rock Goddess. And she was here to show them what playing like a girl actually meant.
She played like her life depended on it. Her style wasn’t showy, and even at the height of her fame, she never developed any flamboyance, but she was a weapon on her guitar.
Lost in the music, she didn’t realise that everyone in the room had stopped talking and silence had fallen where, through every other audition,therehad been murmurs.
When Mai finished, she nodded and walked off stage, trying not to be aware of Ford’s eyes following her. Sie Harrington wouldn’t blush when a cute boy looked at her.
And Ford was cute.
He had a tall, lanky build with wide shoulders, and at sixteen, he looked a little bit like a baby giraffe, butit wasclear he would grow into his frame. His hair was tousled and styled with enough hair gel that it didn’t move, even when he turned his head quickly. His grey eyes pierced her as if this was the first time he had ever seen her.
Maybe itwasthe first time he had evernoticedher, but she had been aware of him from the first time she laid eyes on him.
