Turn On the Lights Ch. 02

"Can do I suppose. No gig tomorrow..."

"Sounds like a good enough excuse to me."

"You two fancy coming out for a pint?" Mike asked us.

"I'm there," Becky replied.

I just nodded. I needed another drink after the night's events.

"Cool. I'm gonna leave my car here and pick it up tomorrow or something," Mike explained.

Becky and I drained the dregs of our bottles, then I took hers and dropped them both in the bin.

"Right then, let's do this thing." We all trooped out as Mike turned the lights off and locked the door after us.

We wandered out into the car park and waited for Mike to lock up the various technical rooms and cabinets in the venue. Security would lock the actual building up.

"Done. So, to the Irishman!" He proclaimed, pointing down the road.

***

Mike and Craig could drink like rugby players. Becky and I ceased trying to keep up early in the night's proceedings, although Becky was still pulling me along after her in that regard. In my defence, it's easier to put away a glass of rum and coke than it is a pint of cider.

Becky didn't consider that an excuse.

Pretty soon we were all having animated, loud conversations. Even myself. Alcohol did seem to alleviate some of my anxiety for brief periods.

She barely left my side for the whole night; we talked constantly, about work, music, TV, films. We seemed to have a lot in common, much to my delight.

The lads had gone to the bar to get a round, so Becky and I were left at the table we'd commandeered.

Becky was pretty far gone, I could tell. I knew I wasn't far behind.

"Y'know, you should really do something with your hair. I mean, you're not bad looking, right? Why hide it behind this?" She lifted up the dirty frizz poking out from under my hat.

I blushed slightly at the half-compliment.

"Look; if you're cool with it, the next time we go out, I want you to come to mine first, and I'll do you up. I'll do your hair, do some nice makeup...you can probably fit into some of my sexier clothes if you don't have anything like that. Then I'll get you out here and get you laid."

I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable, despite the alcohol. This was starting to get out of my comfort zone.

She belched. "No pressure, but I'd love to see how much of your beauty I can bring out."

She turned her stool to face me head-on. She moved my shoulders so I was facing her. She scrutinised me.

"Yeah, you could be a total babe with some work." The word 'babe' stirred something in me when it left her lips.

"Becky, I appreciate the thought, but I'm fine being me. I'm not looking for uh...not looking to get laid."

"Really? Why not?" The concept seemed bizarre to her.

"Just wanna find the right person," I replied, staring into the eyes of the one person that I felt could fill that role at the moment. The irony of it struck me heavily.

"Ahh, okay. That's cool. Not my thing, but it's cool. Can I still try and make you look more beautiful?"

"That's uh...I'd rather not."

She looked a little hurt, her eyes dropping to the floor for a second. "Okay, that's okay. It was just an idea."

I immediately wanted to fix it. "Becky, i-it's not that I don't appreciate the offer, okay? I'm just...I'm me. I like being me. I like how I am." It wasn't entirely true, and she could see that.

"Okay. If you change your mind, just call me, okay? Speaking of which, you'll need my number."

We exchanged phone numbers, a smile lighting my face. I could now have contact with her outside of work. Yes!

***

A few days later came our first gig doing spot together. Jake was back, after being 'dumped' by his 'potential girlfriend', as he put it. Mike clarified later that they'd had one date and she hadn't called him back. Business as usual.

Myself, Jake and Becky were stood at front of house before soundchecks, discussing the show.

Jake was looking through the tech spec for the gig. "Right then ladies, it's a pretty simple one. Session backing band and a big-mouth ego who wants to be lit from both sides because they're making a DVD. So basically, you're both following the same guy. Scruff, I know you know this, but Becky it's just the usual thing of making sure we kill the rig and the spots at the same time; obviously with it being a live band I'm reliant on their sound guy to cue me for that, but I'll do the best I can to cue you quickly."

"No problem," Becky replied.

"Easy." I confirmed.

We headed up to the grid to get ready. I was nervous -- could I trust myself?

We clanked through the gangways towards the spots.

"I'm looking forwards to this, Scruff. Just us two up here, no guys to fend off. Plus, I get to check out your skills! You can teach me some stuff -- like last time you were talking about predicting movement and stuff?"

I couldn't help my eyebrows lifting slightly at the mention of 'fending guys off' given how flirty she was.

"Yeah, I can try, but really you just gotta...do it. Lots."

"I know what you mean. It's like anything -- practice makes perfect. Like sex," She breathed the last part, her brain obviously somewhere else. I felt a brief tingle at the tone.

We arrived at the spots. She dumped her bag, sat down on the chair near her spot, and began to take her leggings off.

What the hell?

She noticed my shocked look. "Hey, it gets hot up here. My legs gotta breathe. Don't you die up here in those?" She looked at my combats.

"Uh...I do get pretty hot."

"Seriously, just do spot in your knickers, you'll thank me. It's what I do." She undid her boots, pulled her leggings the rest of the way off, and put her boots back on. The steel grating wouldn't be very friendly to bare feet.

I realised now why she always wore that long t-shirt. Unfortunately for me, it was just long enough to cover that fantastic ass.

Which I was desperately trying to see. She looked like some sort of goddess to me, those incredible, smooth, pale, toned legs rising from her boots all the way up to meet that shirt. Stood behind her spot like that, I could just about see the crease of where her ass met her thigh if I sat down.

Her legs were amazing. I wanted to run my hands up them from her calves up to her thighs. Then grab her ass, spin her around and...

"You should try it." She said, winking at me. For a panicked second I thought she could read my mind, then I realised what she meant.

There was no way I was taking my combats off in front of her right now. Firstly, I hadn't shaved my legs in a while, and secondly the shirt I was wearing was nowhere near as long as her shirt. Damn Def Leppard's merchandise department.

I did have to admit that it made sense though; I wondered why I'd never thought of it. Taking your top off would be stupid -- followspots get very hot, and nobody in their right mind would want to risk a burn on the boob. So that only left garments south of there being sensible to remove. Trousers, knickers, maybe socks. I didn't fancy going commando to do spot, and my boots were too battered to not wear socks. So that only left trousers. I didn't really have a good excuse not to take them off like Becky had done, so I just rolled the ankles up a little less than I usually did. I hoped she wouldn't notice the state of my legs. Or push me to take my trousers off.

"Masochist," she commented as she noticed I still had my trousers on.

I used the gig to try and teach Becky about how to anticipate the target's intended moves. I found it difficult to explain -- it was something I'd developed just from practice, as a completely subconscious thing. Sometimes you just knew when the guy was gonna suddenly change direction.

Becky's spot skills improved during the gig, and she was grateful. Jake was impressed too.

"You two are probably some of the best spot ops I've worked with. And I don't say that lightly."

"Thanks!" we chorused.

"Especially you, Becky, I mean, wonderful job tonight. It's great to see a beautiful girl capable of making it in this industry..."

I rolled my eyes. Here we go again. Jake was probably going to fall in love with Becky within the space of a couple of days. He'd be all over her, talking about having kids and settling down. Although, to be fair he had got over his previous 'potential girlfriend' incredibly quickly - usually with Jake there was a period of a week or two of him being moody and short-tempered.

Becky just laughed, "Thanks, Romeo."

"Huh?"

"Nothing," she sang down the comms, winking at me. Switching her headset off, she called over to me, "Let me guess, I'm not the only one he's tried that line on?"

I shrugged in reply. He'd never tried that particular one on me. In truth I had no idea what lines he used to 'seduce' other women, and frankly didn't care.

"Hey Becky, do you fancy going out for a KFC after the show?" I heard in my ear.

Becky almost doubled over with laughter. It was a good job we were between songs, or her spot would have bounced around all over the stage.

"Jeez, he's smooth!" she shouted at the roof, laughing. She turned her headset's mic back on. "Jake, dear, with all due respect KFC is hardly a classy date venue...you'd have to do much better than that to get me to go on a date with someone like you..."

"Uh..." Jake was stuck for words. I don't think he was used to someone quite as aggressive as Becky. "A pint after work then? At the bar?"

"Jake, I'm flattered, but give it a rest. You ain't gonna be able to chat me up on comms during a show. And hey, artist's back on. Gotta concentrate."

And with that, Jake evidently decided he needed to keep his mouth shut, which caused me great happiness for the remainder of the show.

After the show, we had the usual post-gig beer in the office, during which Jake tried to persuade Becky to go out on the town with him. She rebuffed him again, despite repeated, pitiful attempts. Inwardly, I winced every time he tried, and celebrated every time she threw him off.

***

The determination to change that which seems impossible to change is not something that comes easily. But sometimes, you meet someone who makes you want to move mountains.

I looked in the mirror.

I had to do something about the girl staring back at me if I wanted Becky, I was starting to realise. Becky was no Annie -- she wouldn't take the first lesbian that came along. If she even was into girls.

Sure, she flirted with most guys, but I was starting to think that underneath that she was pickier than she seemed. Comparing our appearances, she was currently way out of my league.

I wondered if I could redress that balance a little. It had been a while since I'd done the girly thing, but I wasn't incapable.

I turned on the shower, and got in. As the hot water streamed over my body, I considered the nature of my relationship with Becky.

We were friends, there was no doubt about that. Given my general lack of other friends, she probably counted as my best friend. I had no idea where I ranked within her circle of friends. How could I change this into something more than just friendship? I wondered. Then the realisation hit me -- shit, did I need to de-friendzone myself somehow?

I looked at the bottle of shampoo on the side of the bath. "I suppose you're as good a place to start as any," I told it.

Ten minutes later, hair washed, legs freshly shaved, I started looking through my drawers for something a bit more girly to wear.

I stopped myself.

What if Becky liked butch? I'd probably be better off continuing as I was now. I didn't look or act overly butch, but my clothes certainly gave off that impression. Underneath the lazy/intentional scruffiness, I was still femme, though.

No, I decided. While Becky did like men, I couldn't see her with a butch girl. If anything she had more of that butch swagger than I ever had. Besides which, why should I try and be something I'm not? She'd see through that pretty quickly.

Somewhere in the back of my mind a voice was laughing at me, deriding me for putting so much thought into this when the possibility that Becky was interested in any woman, let alone me, was remote.

I finally found an oversized Aerosmith girlie top in the bottom of my drawer. Perfect, I decided -- it was really long. It finished about halfway down my thighs. I wasn't sure about the strappy bit, or about showing my shoulders at work, though. I took a breath. Think girly.

I knew that the trouser department was a waste of time; I didn't own anything else. I had a pair of jeans, but they were so baggy that they had the same effect as combats anyway.

This'll have to do. I thought. Once clothed, I looked in the mirror again.

Hmmm.

A brief encounter with a hairdryer and a brush (two items that I rarely ever used) improved things. I was surprised to find my hair more cooperative than I remembered. Given how much I had mistreated it, I couldn't help but be pleased. I put it into a basic centre parting and consulted the mirror again. It had a slight wave to it, but was reasonably straight. It flicked outwards at the bottom just before it met my shoulders, which I didn't mind too much. The thing I liked most was that it looked brighter. I looked more blonde than brunette for a change.

I attempted some basic, minimal eye makeup.

Looking at the whole ensemble, I realised that I almost looked...girly.

Would Becky like this? Was I setting myself up for a ribbing? The guys were used to seeing me in my usual state, so how would they react?

I could probably expect some ribbing, I decided. I'd just have to 'woman up' and take it. The thought frightened me; confidence was never my strong suit, and although I'd got used to people showing disdain at my appearance, this felt different.

I looked at my watch. I needed to get to work - all this girly stuff had taken longer than I thought.

I grabbed an extra large plain black hoodie and my cap and speed-walked out to my car. Some concessions I was not ready to make yet, and the cap was one. It gave me something to hide behind, especially effective in combination with my hair. I might need it if reactions to this experiment went bad.

***

I just about made it to work on time, only to find that Dave was running late anyway.

Becky was lazing around on one of the bench seats around the edge of the main room, tapping on her phone and drinking a Dr. Pepper.

I walked over. "Hey."

"Oh hey, Scruff." She hadn't looked up. "How's it g...wow." Her eyes went wide as they came up and took me in. "Check you out!" A huge smile formed on her face as she looked me up and down.

"I thought I'd, like, um, try and, uh, make more of an effort to be a girl, y'know?" I stammered.

"See, I knew you had beautiful hair! And showing some shoulder too! You realise Jake's gonna be all over you now, right? Probably Mike, too. In fact I think Craig will want a piece of you as well. You're gonna be spoilt for choice!" She laughed.

Hmmm. I hadn't thought that bit through; I hadn't considered the consequences of the guys liking my change.

"Speak of the devil..." Becky muttered, quirking an eyebrow and then shifting her eyes to my left.

"Hey Scruff. You look different...I like it," Mike commented. "Hey, Jake's gonna be all ov-"

"Yeah I know, Becky's just said that. Almost verbatim."

He laughed. "The guy's like clockwork. Do you want me to tell him?"

"Tell him what?" Becky asked, confused.

I started to panic. Please Mike, don't let the cat out of the bag...I need to do that myself...

Mike's eyes quickly shifted back and forth between Becky and I. "Uh...that Scruff's not interested, of course."

"And exactly how do you know that?" Becky looked a bit cross. "She might have a thing for Jake. Maybe that's the reason she's made a change."

Mike looked at me for help, evidently worried about saying the wrong thing.

"Mike knows that I'm not into...Jake," I explained.

"Sooo...is it Craig you're after?" Becky was trying to compute the reason for my new appearance.

"No. Can't I just be a girl without people wanting to know why?" I asked, a bit exasperated. I'd expected this from the guys, but not from Becky.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean it like that. You can look how the hell you want to, Scruff." She held her hands up in a placatory gesture. "I was just curious."

The last word sparked in the back of my mind somewhere. I really hoped she was curious in more ways than one.

Once Dave and Jake had arrived and we'd had the usual chat about the show, Jake had Becky and I do some maintenance on the rig. Replacing blown lamps, repairing cables, refocusing some LEDs and so on while soundcheck happened on stage. Thankfully, Jake's attention was on the stuff we needed to get done rather than us. As much as he was a hopeless romantic, his real mistresses were always the equipment and the gig. He'd once stood a girl up because the venue had bought a new lighting console and he wanted to play with it.

Maintenance complete, Becky and I headed to the other end of the grid to prep the spots and get some practice in for the show.

"Gonna be a hot one today," Becky commented. It was a roasting hot day outside, and the gig was expected to be sold out. And it was a night of electronic acts. That all added up to it being a very hot, sweaty gig.

Becky sat down and starting pulling off her leggings. Surprise registered on her face when she saw me sit down and start taking my boots off.

"You following my lead at last?" She asked.

"If you can't beat 'em, join 'em?" I tried.

She just laughed, dumped her leggings on the floor and put her boots back on. I noticed that she kept watching me as I took my combats off and put my own boots back on.

"Aaaaand I was right twice," she commented.

"Huh?"

"I said you probably had a nice pair of legs under those. I wasn't wrong."

I blushed a little, embarrassed, but secretly pleased to have received the compliment from her.

"You never said that..." I corrected her.

She looked embarrassed for a second. "Didn't I? Must have thought it and not said it." She mumbled.

Had she been thinking about my legs? Was I placing too much hope in this again? I sighed; I'd been here before. The same questions running around in my head. I needed to get a grip, and stick to my plan without getting sidetracked trying to second-guess Becky's thoughts.

"I managed to find a top long enough. Worried about the straps though, I don't normally show this much flesh..."

"Hey, don't worry about it. You have nice shoulders. If I was a guy..." she trailed off, her eyes fixed on my shoulders.

"If you were a guy?" I pushed, my heart rate all over the place.

Her eyes snapped up to mine. "Um...if I was a guy, I'd be all over you right now."

There was a silence between us for a second or two as she fixed me with that hypnotic gaze again, except this time without the grin that usually accompanied it. I was powerless whenever she turned it on me. Absolutely powerless.

The eyes turned away and she stood up. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had just let an opportunity slip away from me.

Becky started checking over her spot. I did the same, stealing occasional sideways glances at her. Belatedly, I realised that at that moment I had more skin on show than she did.

How things change.

***

I kicked the door shut with a backheel, dumped my bag and keys in the hall and flomped down on my sofa, tired from another eighteen-hour day.

That moment in the grid a few weeks ago had been one of a few 'moments' that had passed between us.

I thought back, thought about the number of little things that Becky had said and done that I was putting stock in that I probably shouldn't be putting stock in. But it was all starting to pile up.