DJ Love

"How hot was that?"

"Yeah, that was rad. He finished so strong."

Jemma raised her eyes to the ceiling, head thrown back in exasperation.

"I swear to god, what I feel for him is fucking real, but I can't get him to notice me." Throwing her head forward into her hands, she said into the coffee in front of her, "you have to help me Bess; I totally can't go on like this."

Bess stood and went over to the stereo that took pride of place in her lounge room. She lifted the mix tape CD out of the player and passed it to her friend. She glanced around her room at all the faces of so many bands, so many DJ's so many artists staring back at her.

"Yeah, I can help. I know what to do."

Jemma turned toward her friend, a gleam of hope in her eye.

"Anything babe. I'll do anything you tell me." Bess at back in her chair looking hard at her friend.

"Ok, so Jemma, I'll make you up tonight so you look totally hot. We'll work to your strengths and I can lend you clothes." With a hand Jemma's chin, Bess looked at either side of her face with a professionals eye. "You're heaps prettier than you know, and we have tons to work with here.

It's gonna be a punish though. I'm taking you to my hairdressers first, and that'll set you back in the order of three hundred bucks, plus she's doing what I want her to do with your hair right? This is my fucking hairdressing appointment I'm giving you after all."

Jemma grinned. "You're the best babe."

"Yeah, yeah, wait till I send you the bill. But there's something else. He will notice you. I know him well enough to know what he likes. But when he comes on to you man you gotta deal with it properly, you know? You have to be smooth, and work the situation. I can't make you cool; I can only make you look cool."

Jemma smiled. "I'm pretty nervous. I know what you're saying. But I really feel a connection. I love his mixes, and when he DJ's I'm in another place. I just want a chance, you know? I just want to try it out and see if what I feel is real."

"Then we better get started." Bess grinned at her friend.

A few hours later, back from the hairdressers, Bess sat in the deep leather chair in her bedroom as Jemma paraded back and forth in a variety of outfits. Jeans, sweaters, minis, and dresses all lay on the bed in various states of disarray. Jemma's thin frame had donned and shed them all in their turn as Bess stressed and fussed over the right outfit.

"No. I hate that too. Take it off."

Jemma swished her now waist length dark burgundy hair with deep pink highlights showing through from underneath, with her famous head toss.

"Fuck, how many things do you want me to try on? I look ok in all this stuff."

Bess shook her head. "Look, I was right about the extensions, I'm right about this. Do you want my help or not?"

Jemma examined her painted black lacquered nails. "I know I know... I'm sorry. I'm just tired. This doing yourself up shit takes ages, and I didn't know it would be this hard."

Bess and Jemma had been the unlikeliest of best friends since they were neighbours, before they both went to school. Even in the early year's Bess was the cool one, preferring to go to school than stay home, all the kids crowding around her in the playground; Always the first with the coolest lunch box or the raddest shoelaces.

Jemma happily took on a bookish personality but she did not make a success of it. She studied hard, but only ever reached the middle of the class, while Bess fell naturally in the top five all the time. As a person to whom things came easy Bess coasted through life while Jemma was forced by circumstance to fight for everything she had.

With all this, never a second's animosity passed between them. Jemma recognised moments of self-consciousness in her friend as she clutched another award after school assembly and the cutest boy in the school stopped to give her kiss before leaving her to her weird friend. She sensed Bess waited for the day Jemma had enough, but it never came. Jemma loved her friend and she loved her for who she was deep down.

What Bess realised early, was Jemma would love her if the awards dried up, if she got married and settled down and became a frumpy housewife. Jemma would stand by her, faithful, devoted and loyal. There was nothing fake about their connection. Bess loved Jemma more than Jemma could understand, she was sure.

And now, for the first time in the history of their friendship, Jemma actually wanted something badly enough to come to Bess to ask for it. Jemma came to her friend and asked her to make her cool.

In all the years, she'd not seen Jemma need her help. As soon as she asked, Bess heart soared. She'd suggested an image upgrade many times of course, and offered help, and bought certain presents, but her friend always smiled and shrugged her shoulders saying cool was Bess' department.

Finally she'd come to her. For the first time Jemma wanted something Bess could give her to say thanks for all the years of devoted loyal friendship. For some unearthly reason Jemma had fallen in deep love with local indie DJ -- DJA. She listed to his mix tapes, followed his blog and commented as often as she could on face book, but the guy couldn't see her.

This was something Bess understood. Jemma, with a gorgeous heart, didn't understand image, and about attracting the right attention. Jemma wasn't a virgin; however she'd rarely seemed interested in anyone before. Bess wanted this for her, and she knew how to help her get this guy. She saw it as the biggest present a friend has ever offered another woman that she owes everything to.

"That's it! That's the look I want." "You've got to be kidding. How the fuck am I gonna pull this off?"

"Jemma, look at yourself! Go to my full length mirror and look at yourself."

A gentle quake started in Jemma's heart as she approached the mirror. She knew this outfit would look hot, she'd had a feeling like bells going off in unison inside when she put it on. The colour of the velvet was exactly the same colour of her hair, and there were other small details that stood out to her. Things she'd never noticed before. Feeling about herself she'd never had before.

She opened the cupboard and took a sharp intake of breath at the image in the mirror.

Her velvet trapeze dress sat at almost "C U next Thursday" position even though the sleeves extended long, to cover her hands to the start of her fingers. The square low neckline showed just a little of the top of the bulge of her small firm breasts, pushed up by an incredible bra Bess owned.

But it was the boots; The Claret coloured, upper thigh high soft leather boots that made the outfit sensational. A little pair of skinny black short shorts sat under the dress at the top and gave the top of the boot something to nestle in under. The affect gave the impression the boots covered her whole body, as if she were a dominatrix or cat woman.

And then the heels; They stood so high; curving Jemma's pert round ass in the most pinchable flesh she'd ever seen, that Jemma knew she'd have to wear them. But how she would be able to walk, let alone dance, was a question she wasn't sure she wanted to find the answer to.

"What do you think?" her friend had hopped up and stood behind her as if she wanted to be sure the image in the mirror told the correct story.

"I think this is incredible. Amazing. I've never seen anything this beautiful in my life!" Jemma said with tears in her eyes. She loved the way the hair extensions swooshed around her waist. She's wanted hair like this all her life. Why hadn't she ever done this before?

"Make up! We need make up."

Jemma didn't say anything. She was mesmerised by the Cinderella she saw transformed and ready for the ball.

"Darling, we have three hours only."Bess said recognising the emotions her friend betrayed. "We have to get you done up, I have to get dressed, and we have to go out for a cocktail so you can practise your "fuck me please" look in a public space, without getting assaulted."

Jemma sighed, tears welling up in her eyes. "ok." She said, as her friend gave her a squeeze.

Four hours and two cocktails later, Jemma felt as ready as ready could get. The bar before had had been a great idea. Bess looked as gorgeous as usual, but even Jemma had to admit no one was going to take the limelight off her tonight. Bess had completed her look with dark Bardot style eyes, making Jemma's dull hazel eyes appear a large almond shaped brilliant green. She noticed Bess looking at her several times and shaking her head.

"Darling, I never knew you had this in you. Where have you been hiding it?"

Jemma smiled proudly. "It's the clothes. The makeup. The friendship. It's YOU"

Bess shook her head. "It's isn't mate. It's you hun. These other things just work because you've got so much goodness to work with."

Jemma walked to the toilet three times and back to practise walking in the shoes, (mastered) handling all the stares from hot guys (perfected) and giving jealous females a haughty look (handled) till she felt comfortable and ready to hit the club.

As soon as she stepped out of the taxi, Jemma knew it was a great idea to do this. Some bud inside of her woke up and she felt very sure this quiet sleeping piece of her could be welcomed into her entire being. Life gripped her; the liquid night thrilled her; she was proud to be next to her good-looking friend and happy to share in the bevy of men racing forward to help with the door.

Jemma never lacked confidence, she knew that. She just felt happy to mosey along looking the way she did, thinking she'd get to the pretty thing someday. Time seemed to float past her and she never got around to taking care of herself, till tonight.

Then she heard the music.

He was playing. She stood on the sidewalk as Bess paid the cab driver, and took a deep breath. Bess turned and with round eyes and a toss of her head in the direction of the club, indicated she knew he was on too. They smiled at each other, and walked toward the entrance to the club.

"Bess, Bess, how come I don't know this lovely lady?"

Bess, introduce me to this friend. Where have you been hiding her?"

"Ladies, please come into the club, remember if you want anything, I am the man to see. And I mean anything..."

The compliments poured over them both as men hustled and touted their way closer and closer to the two women. Bess and Jemma smiled and made a bee line for the front door, paying their way and getting in to the throbbing swelling mass of young people having a great time to great music. "Let's get a drink." Bess yelled into Jemma's ear as soon as they were through the doors to be heard over the music.

At the bar they each ordered a cocktail and stood back to watch the show.

DJA was working the boards like no one had worked them before; wild and electrified. Jemma's body responded as it always did when she saw him. The pulse of his cd-jays resounded between her legs as if his music and her body were one.

His long grunge style black hair hung low, swaying in front of his face as he worked. Even the headset couldn't hold it back. Behind that black mane were dark blue eyes, Jemma knew, from the countless hours shed spent staring at his multiple images on his website.

He wore a tight "frightened Rabbit" t-shirt, so Jemma could see the bulge where his basketball playing developed muscle twitched and rolled in response to the tasks performed. Under that he wore indie black jeans, which helped his body move sensuously to the music, his whole vibe and being centred on the task.

Suddenly everyone else was missing, and it was Jemma and DJA -- the only people in the room. Bess interrupted her to hand her a cocktail. Jemma took slow sips, not wanting to be too drunk in this outfit, with this opportunity. She watched him, mesmerised as he came to the end of his set.

"Ok. Let's go over there."

Bess pointed a group of people standing the back corner of the club, all dressed in black, all decidedly cool, but all as far away from DJA as was possible.

"No, babe I really want to --"

"Trust me! I got you this far didn't I?"

Bess pushed her way, through the crowd with Jemma walking steadily behind, trying to manage shoes and cocktails at the same time. Men whispered, tried to get in their way or made a pathway for them but Jemma was as ready as she could ever be for one man and one only and she had no eyes or time for the hoards of fans.

"Hey guys. Bess said to the crowd. This is my friend Jemma."

"Yo, Jemma." "Hey Jemma" "nice to meet you Jemma" the ultra cool crowd relayed as the next DJ started up his mix of tunes. Bess started a conversation with them, while Jemma, tried to listen and tried to keep an eye out for DJA as best she could.

Then suddenly, he was there, standing across the circle from her. He shook hands with two men on either side of him as his eyes fell on Jemma. She thrilled to see the open look of admiration and appreciation on his face. Smoothly he took the time for a long slow lingering look up and down her body that made her insides shiver.

"My god. Who's this?" he said loud enough for everyone to hear in his voice sent directly from God.

Jemma smiled a mirror practised smile that she knew worked, and stepped a little forward to give him her hand. "Jemma James." She smiled. He took her hand and shook it nonchalantly, letting her have it back quickly, never taking his eyes off her. He stood back a way. "Very nice to meet you Jemma James." he said, and turned to the man on his right.

"They're studio." Bess whispered in her ear. "They had to be here for him, so I knew if I came over and talked to the couple that I knew, we'd get a private place with him."

"Thanks, I owe you my life" said Jemma who felt that perhaps just the touch of his hand was enough. She was grateful he'd let it go so fast. The sweat pooling an excellent first impression could not make.

Even though he stood across the circle from her, and the music played loud, he broke his concentration to glance across at Jemma. She had the looks he wanted, she could see that. If she hadn't been so modest, she would say he couldn't keep his eyes off her. He made eye contact a few times, a serious look in his eyes, vacant in a way as he concentrated on the conversation. But as if magnetised, they always flew back to Jemma, refocusing on her, claiming her with his stares, wanting her with his body language.

Soon the guys talking to him left. Within seconds, he was at her side.

"Can I tell you, you look amazing without sounding like a tool? How come I haven't seen you before?"

Jemma smiled. "You have. I just didn't look like this."

She looked up into his dark blue eyes just in time to see them widen in recognition. "Jemma James? You're on my Facebook fan page. But, have you come to see me play before?"

"Yes. I come every week. I guess, this is just the first time you've noticed me."

He smiled a knowing smile. "So you're Cinderella tonight huh? And all the princes are fighting to - " he glanced down at her feet, well placed in the heels and added "..Um help you with your shoes?"

"I'm not available for every prince." She said back, her heart pounding and her hands cold enough penguins could survive on them. She couldn't believe she'd just delivered such a smooth, totally naff line. But it did cut the small talk.

He smiled a knowing smile. "I'm very glad to hear that. Listen, I make it a rule not to dance at these things, but you wanna hit the floor with me?"

"Yeah sure." Jemma hoped her voices sounded casual. He reached out and his hand brushed her elbow and travelled down her arm, over her wrist til he held her hand lightly by the finger tips.

He handled her with the lightest of gestures indicating a form of possession, but also a light sensual touch. He held her there, fingertips on fingertips, not letting her go as he led her back the way they came to the dance floor. Jemma pushed past crowds, got bumped by drunk young people, and stepped over sticky things on the floor and all the time he kept the very tips of their fingers glued as if he never wanted to let her go.

As soon as he hit the dance floor he turned and started to move the way he did when he worked the boards. Jemma swayed to the muisic as well. It wasn't the music she was used to from DJA but the guy was doing a good enough job that Jemma could get nicely lost in it and really enjoy what was going on around her -- even if all she saw was her dance partner and her life flashing before her eyes.

The dance lasted another song. He flirted with her, reached for her hands with that light "don't anyone try to touch her she's mine" kind of grasp and, moved her around the dance floor in a way that allowed their bodies to brush regularly. Jemma mastered her shoes enough to be able to enjoy the way she could feel him, as he rubbed against her.

A song kicked in he obviously loved. He grabbed Jemma in a swift move that surprised her and turned her so her back was against his chest. He ran his hands down the side of her slim body, and back up again to her waist. Then he moved around her body and held her close to him. In her heels they were the same height, and she leaned back into him, letting the smell of his aftershave overpower her. Without moving she felt the brush of his lips against her neck and she knew she had what she had wanted for so long.

"Come with me next door. I have a room."

Jemma smiled. Next door was a large hotel that a lot of the people at the club often had rooms in. She'd dreamed many times of being taken up to his room, but never imagined it could be possible. She felt a dampening between her legs, as she turned her head to tell him she would come with him.

As she leaned against him, he kissed her again, and she could feel the bulge in his jeans, as he unapologetically pressed it against her. Without another word, he moved away and taking her lightly by the hand in that way she loved so much he made his way back to their party. In a rush Jemma told Bess she would be leaving to go next door. Bess played it cool, but Jemma who knew her friend so well, understood the gleam in her eye.

Soon Jemma found herself outside in the cool night air, her fingers entwined in the fingers of the man she adored. He looked gorgeous in the street light, lamp posts lighting their way and guiding them toward the hotel next door. Last night he might as well have been a fantasy. Soon she would be in his arms.

On the street he slowed down a little.

"You don't mind doing this so quickly? I'm so hot for you right now."

Jemma smiled at him. "Not at all. I'd have been extremely disappointed if it had gone any other way." He had no idea just how disappointed disappointed could be.

"I'm really sorry I didn't recognise you. I know you leave a lot of posts on the fan pages. You're a real fan huh?"

Jemma smiled, thinking she never wanted this moment to end, as they walked toward the hotel. She wasn't sure what he would want from her after tonight, but she will have had him. In a small way for him, and an enormous way for her, she would have had him for that time in her life when everything fell into place for a magic moment thanks to a little make up, some hot clothes, and her amazing friend.

"I am a real fan. I wouldn't call me a groupie, but yes, I'm a really big fan."

He paused in a particularly dark part of the street, and looked her up and down. "Wow, you really look amazing. I love what you've done to your hair. And you look so hot in those boots that dress. My god, I can't believe I haven't let you under my radar before this."

Soon they were in the hotel lobby. Jemma felt as though she were in a dream. They crossed the floor, she had to be careful with her shoes, the receptionist smiled and called "good night Mr Armit" to him as they walked. A huge bunch of flowers on a stand was all that stood between Jemma and the elevator that would take her to heaven.