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Career Girl Blues	By : Scribe Category: DC Verse Comics > Superman Views: 5447 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Superman, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Career Girl Blues
Chapter Fourteen
A Star is Born
Clive climbed down, kissed me thoroughly, and picked up a brush and blowdryer. He finished styling my hair placidly, a peaceful look on his face. "You're not going to put anything in it, are you?" I asked warily.
"If I was going to do that, sweet thing, I would have unzipped." That was a little more than I needed to know. "You don't need any spray or gel. Those curls are coming up nice and crisp. This is what I call my Greek Boy haircut. You'd best stay in the well lighted areas at Green, precious, or you'll give some poor old fairy a hell of a shock when he gropes you. Then again, you might be just right to spark some curiosity."
When he was done, he stood back and ordered me to admire the effect. I did. It was way different from anything I'd ever done before. But, like everything else, it would have passed without comment in my own world. But here...?
The back and sides were only about an inch long, so short that the curls were reduced to waves. On top it was a little longer, and the curls were really running wild. But since it was so much shorter, the effect was controlled chaos instead of out-and-out anarchy. He'd been right about the color. The bright overhead florescents picked out red, even gold, hilights.
"This is great, Clive. It'll go perfect with my new outfit. How much do I owe you?"
"Not a cent, dearest. I couldn't possibly take money from you after what we've shared. It would be too much like prostitution, and I only do this for love and lust. Are you planning on going to LG this evening? I would like to see the reaction to my masterpiece."
"Yeah, come on down. I get to sing with the band. I don't know if it's gonna be a debut, or a farewell performance, but you're welcome."
"Lovely. I'll come early and bring a few friends, if you don't mind? Green's a little conservative for my circle, but I don't want to miss this."
"Terrific."
"Bettina, do stop fluttering about and make another appointment for Scribe. Next Friday, I think. Just a shampoo and condition."
"No, that's all right, Clive."
"Will, say, four be all right?"
"Clive, I hardly think I'll need..."
"And who said this was about what you needed?"
"Oh. Clive?" I smiled, to show I was joking. "What would happen if I went to someone else to have my hair done?"
He smiled back. "Why, treasure, if you want to find out about punishment, all you have to do is ask."
Lois' POV
She isn't home when I get back, but I kind of expected that. She's going through adolescent rebellion at a late age, and I think it's kind of like having your tonsils out: it's worse the longer you wait. There are several empty bags from the department store in her room, and a shoebox so big that it scares me.
Still, I'm determined not to go looking for her. She doesn't want to be scolded and controlled, she wants to be treated as a grown woman. Fine, so be it. I'm not sitting up, waiting for her. I'm reading. I've been planning to get to that hardware catalogue a long time now.
The phone rings, and I can hear commotion on the other end long before I get it up to my ear. I wonder who's having a party, and why I wasn't invited. It sounds wild. "Hello?"
"Terry, get more grapefruit juice out of the back, I got another case in this afternoon. Yeah, and cranberry juice. Damn, who ever thought I'd need..."
"Hello?" What was this, some sort of prank call?
"Hello, sorry. It's crazy here. Lois?"
"Yes?"
"Lois, this is Toddy at Lavender's Green."
There was whooping and howling in the background, and loud, raucous music. "Toddy? I know it's the weekend, but are you having a bachelor party there or something?"
"Not exactly. I think you should come down here. Off the bar! I told you before. And stay off the tables, too. Sorry."
"I don't think I want to come down there if it's that rowdy." I could hear singing in the background. Lots of voices, but there was one familiar one carrying over the others as they chanted "Gonna have to face it, you're addicted to love!" I groaned. "Scribe?"
"Who else? I'm not complaining, mind you. She's cute as hell, the customers like her, and she's really livened the place up. We're packed, and I'm selling booze like prohibition starts up tomorrow. But..."
"She's a grown woman, Toddy." Now, so help me God, they were singing something about 'When I think about you, I touch myself." Did the girl want to spend time at the police station? "Toddy, she's gonna get everyone arrested!"
"I don't think so. The beat cop is boogying up by the band right now."
"Well, the religious leaders will have a field day."
"I don't know 'bout that, either. A Sanctified Army band came in earlier to spread the good news. Now the horn player and tambourine are jamming with the band."
"Then why did you call me?"
"I think maybe you should come get her, she's had a lot to drink."
The crowd was roaring about sisters doing it for themselves. "She sounds like she's doing fine."
"You don't understand, Lois. Diana Prince is here. She's been pushing drinks on Scribe all evening, and... hello? Hello?"
I suppose I should have hung up instead of leaving the receiver dangling, but, well...
I made it to Lavender's Green in record time. You could hear the noise half a block away, and it almost blasted me off my feet when I went in. The band was just striking up a song, something with a strong beat and horns. The Sanctified Army player could wail.
"Here comes the finale folks! Feel free to join in if you catch the words." I squinted toward the dias. Where was she? All I could see was the house band. Tinkerbelle and another waitress were bouncing up and down at a side mike, and some young man was at the center mike. Then the music really kicked in.
"How can it be permissible? She compromised my principles. That kind of love is mythical. She's anything but typical." That voice... I pushed forward for a closer look at the singer.
"She's a craze you'll endorse, she's a powerful force. You're obliged to conform when there's no other course..."
Heavy black engineer boots, rapping on the raised platform with glee. Tight blue jeans. A plaid flannel shirt, long sleeves rolled up on arms that were just a touch too delicate and smooth to carry off the illusion. The collar with two buttons undone, smooth neck gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat. The familiar face, alight with mischief and glee, blue eyes dancing. She wasn't moving like she was drunk. The hair...
The hair! What... where...... hey!
The delicate curves of the ears were bare, there was nothing to detract from the clear lines of her face. She looked younger. It was a cap of soft, tight dark curls. It looked... she...
It looked good, damn it. The spotlight was striking red sparks in it. But she might have warned me.
I didn't have much time to ruminate, because they were coming to the chorus. "She used to look good to me, now I find her..." The drummer rapped out four sharp shots. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. And her hips jerked left, right, back, and a strong forward thrust. "Simply irresistible!"
The audience groaned. Then howled. She laughed, and sang. "Her lovin' is so powerful. It's simply unavoidable. The trend is irreversible. The woman is invincible. She's a natural law, and she leaves me in awe. She deserves the applause, I surrender the cause. She used to look good to me, but now I find her..."
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Again the hip action. "Simply irresistible. Simply irresistible."
Then in counterpart Tinkerbelle and friend crooned. "She's so fine, there's no tellin' where the money went. She's all mine, there's no other way to go." They repeated it a couple of times, and the audience caught the words, pushing them back.
"She's unavoidable and back against the wall. She gives me feelings that I never had before. I'm breakin' promises, she's breakin' every law. She used to look good to me, now I find her simply irresistible." Again her backup singers chirped. "She's so fine..."
They sang the chorus a couple of times. Some guy in leather at the front of the stage caught her attention, and she shimmied in front of him. They danced together, several feet apart.
"Her methods are inscrutable. The proof is irrefutable. She's huggably kissable. Our lives are indivisible. She's a craze you'll endorse, she's a fearful force..."
As the verse repeated, she skipped off the dias, and slithered through the crowd to the bar, hopping up to sit on it's polished surface. When they reached the "She's so fine"part she waved her arms and got the audience singing and clapping in unison. The air was so electric I could feel goose bumps standing up on my arms. This wasn't a smooth, professional performance. There was nothing pitch perfect or precise. She was just having such a good time that it was catching.
On the last line, she braced her arms behind herself, arching, head thrown back, eyes closed, face glistening with sweat, mouth curved in a beatific smile, and crowed. "Simply irresistible!"
The guitarist started another solo vamp. She sat up, grinned, and sang out, "Show's over. Somebody buy me a drink." By the time she'd slid down and settled on a stool, there were a half dozen assorted drinks in front of her, and she cheerfully started sampling them all.
It wasn't easy, but I got up beside her. "Scribe..."
Her grin was charmingly goofy. "Hey, Lois! Didya catch the act, huh? Pretty good for as little time as we had to practice. Whatdaya think?"
"I think it's a good thing you got down off the bar, or someone might have crawled up there and had sex with you."
She stuck out her tongue at me. "Party pooper. I'm perfekly capable of ruining my own life. Excuse me, running."
"You're drunk."
"Yup. Ain't it grand?"
"Yes. I think she's cute like this." Diana Prince had sat down on the other stool.
"Leave her alone, Diana. She's not your type."
"Lois, quit it. You're not my mama. I c'n take care of mself." She turned to Diana and said with drunken solemnity, "Diana, I'm not your type."
"How do you know what my type is, Scribe?"
"Okay. You're not my type."
"What is your type?"
"How should I know? I'm drunk. 'Scuse me. Gotta see a man about a dog." I watched her weave her way back to the restroom, the one loosely designated for females.
I decided to go call a cab. I was going to haul her butt home if I had to get Jimmy to help me. She didn't need to be out in this state.
I don't have any excuse. I should have noticed when Diana followed her into the back.

Disclaimer: Song lyrics are from 'Addicted to Love', 'I Touch Myself',and 'Simply Irrisistable', none of which are mine.
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Career Girl Blues