Sometimes being a musician is not enough
and one must rise up to the challenge to play to a different tune.

And The Bass Player Gets The Girl Part 1 - Auditions By TGJaime Copyright© 2007 TGJaime All Rights Reserved. This is a vastly improved version of the story I posted earlier. Many Many Thanks go to Angela Rasch for showing me what an Editor can actually do for a story. Thank you Angela! ~TGJaime

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Part 1 - Auditions
 
Some great musicians of the 70’s and 80’s influenced me. I grew up on Long Island, and had a fair chance of seeing them live at either the Nassau Coliseum or the Greatest Concert Stage in the world, Madison Square Garden. Of course as a young teen I wanted nothing more than to follow in their footsteps. I started playing bass guitar and drums taking lessons whenever I could afford it. My high school had an excellent music department and I always listened to songs and tried to figure the latest sound or riff. Long hair and a skinny-as-a-rail body completed my full package as the typical musician of the area.
 
 
Swim team -- doing the anchor in the relays, freestyle, and breast stroke — kept me in great shape. My “rock star” long hair had been bleached blonde from all the chlorine. When my times faded because of its length, I started wearing a bathing cap like the girls, which gave the other teams something to get on me about. They learned early in the season not to do that too loudly, or often, I swam my best races when they’re kidding got too bad. Coach Livingstone simply say “show them” and I took off like someone had added rocket fuel to a fire. There was nothing the other team could after the starter’s gun but look on in shock as I would dust their best swimmers by a body length, or more.
 
 
My phone interrupted my drum practice one evening. I had put an ad in a local trade paper about a bass player looking for a new band. The one I played in tried hard, but none of them except the drummer seriously wanted to be a professional. I answered the phone and a perky female voice asked for Jamie. “Are you the bass player looking for a new gig.”

“I am. What kind of music does your band play?.”

“Ohhh. I’m Lauren Michaels and I manage the band. We’re holding auditions for a bass player.”

Interesting! Open auditions and they have a manager. “What’s the name of the band?” I knew most the groups that played the circuit.

“I don’t want to seem evasive, but you’ll find out if you make the cut.”

Her decision not to tell me left me wondering if I should be all that excited. “What kind of music does the band play and where have they played in the past?”

Lauren laughed, apparently not easily interrogated. “Are you interested or not?”

I was, but I didn’t want to sound desperate. “Hey. . .this band isn’t formed yet is it? . . . Hello? Are you still there?”

Lauren finally answered “Wellllll it sort of is together, we’ve got some sponsors and were trying to make a go of it, is that a problem?”

I could tell there was more to the story, but I wasn’t going to get any more answers. I found out where and when the auditions would be held and told her I looked forward to meeting her.

For the next few days I couldn’t get my mind off my upcoming audition. I went directly home after school and practiced more than usual. I tried to figuring out all songs on the radio and all the top 40 hits so I would have a clue if they asked me to play one of them. I have a good ear and it only takes me a few tries to work out a song on my bass guitar. I then work on the drum part so I have the total rhythm section handled.

Thursday finally arrived and I went to the rehearsal studio where the auditions were being held. A few other players I know from the club circuit had also been ask to try out. No one had a clue as to the identity of the band and what they play.

Derrick, a player I’ve known for years, and I separated ourselves from the others to talk a little quieter. We chatted away, but couldn’t answer each other’s questions. He’s taller than I am, built like all he does is hit the weight room, and he is a competent player. He would be a threat if they went for that look.

I wore what I call “club clothes” -- tight jeans and a white silky poet’s blouse. The blouse could be thought of as kind of girlie, but it looked good -- especially under stage lights -- and a guy from Whitesnake had one. Besides -- Twisted Sister broke the mold on Long Island, so it was normal for musicians to be dressed in feminine tops and things like that.

My old girlfriend had always painted my right pinkie finger because it sticks out when I play, so it became my thing, I guess. I never thought anything of doing it or having it done by the ex.
 
 
Other players came and went in and out if the session room quickly. Some spent less than five minutes inside before they left. Is auditioning for these people a good idea? Finally a gorgeous woman came out and called everyone who was left together. She immediately told some of us they could leave, including my buddy Derrick. He caught my eye and shrugged as he grabbed his case and left. After everything settled down she introduced herself as Lauren.

Finally, someone who has a clue what’s going on.

Lauren then asked several more to leave.

Wow, from about 35 guys down to 10 in less than five minutes!

She then scheduled the rest of us for every thirty minutes and told us we would be judged on playing ability, showmanship, and finally -- looks.

I’ve got a chance. I’m a good player and a ham on stage. I look good -- even if half the time people say “miss” to me when they ask me something which I never thought would be an asset.

After what seemed like hours, with many other musicians coning and going, I got my chance. I figured I had nothing to lose so I walked in with my mind ready to play something cool. I stopped at the door and looked inside, but there was no one in there. I could see only a small bass amp and a single chair spotlighted in the middle of an otherwise dark room. Strange! Did I get the right room?

A voice from the speakers told me to get ready to play.

I responded to the disembodied voice. “Okay.”

I walked over to the chair, placed my case on the ground, and got ready for my baby’s debut. What confidence I had came from knowing I had my own special weapon. My pride and joy, a custom-made bass. Others had auditioned with the same instrument I had. You could buy it at Sam Ash for around $450, or so, but it remained special to me.

An aluminum-necked Kramer with a solid ash color, it didn’t appear to be anything special ‘til you heard it. Well honestly, three things did make it that way: 1.) The way it was decorated, 2.) All of the electronics work I did to it, and 3.) the best reason I could think of -- it was MINE!

Some others started the trend of using bandanas on the neck so they could dry their hand while playing, which makes sense after a fashion. I took it to the next level with silk scarves sewn on to the strap, and dangling from the head stock were another five scarves feathered into a loose chain. I had six more looped around each other so it looked like a rainbow-colored tail. Under stage lights they looked alive and seemed to glow on their own when I moved around.

Although I’m not honestly an electronic wizard, I’m very tenacious. I built all of my on stage electronics into my guitar: a chorus, flange, and distortion units. I could make any sound come out of the speakers I wanted, and very few knew how I did it.

Feeling ready to audition, I plugged in and sat down waiting for something to happen. I did some scales to warm up my fingers when the lights went out. No biggie, the amp is still on and I’ve been doing scales forever so I can do them with my eyes closed.

Finally the lights came back up. “Are you ready?” the voice asked.

I nodded and some top-40 stuff came over the speakers. Thanks to my crash course I knew the lines and played right along -- first song no prob! The second song started playing. Again it was another popular song, but it was so simple -- straight 4/4 time, quarter notes on one string. Out of boredom I started adding riffs and some syncopated times as additions. Still no comments or anything. Finally a third song started for a minute, and then stopped.

“Do you know the song?”

I answered honestly I had not heard it, but it sounded good to me.

Again, no response. Finally, “Do you want to hear it again, so you can improvise something for it?”

“Uh huh.” I felt up to the challenge. “Could I hear it all the way through first, so I can get a feel for it?”

As the song played I got ideas about what I want to do and where I wanted my playing to shine. The melody is almost haunting in its sound. It starts slow and dreamy, and then picks up in tempo and scope, and than slows down again all coming to a crescendo at the end.

I like it! It has the complexity to give me a chance to show many sides of my abilities.

At my request they rewound it and we started. I added simple harmonics to the background enhancing the overall sound. When it started picking up I laid down some slow laid-back rhythms to give a foundation for the guitar to play over. On the whole, I felt happy knowing my rendition could get better with time. The song ended.

“Thank you,” the voice said. “Please wait outside in room seven.”

I went down the hall to the different waiting room, which was already occupied by two other players. I didn’t know either of them, but I did notice a common theme. All of us were blonde, tall, skinny, and dare I say it “cute”!
 
 
Yeah okay, I know I’m not supposed to say that guys are “cute.” That’s reserved for girls and puppies. But since I’ve always been more comfortable hanging out with the girls than the guys, I sort of picked up their lingo. Words like cute, adorable, and sweet rolled off my lip.

Guys who gush about how they felt about things usually got nicknames they didn’t want: fag, queer, or gay. Sometimes when they called me that my temper would get me in trouble, but mostly I stayed quiet about how I felt.
 
 
Since I had to wait I decided to work on the last song some more. I pulled up a chair, sat down, and started playing. The other two slid there chairs over.

“What that you’re playing?” one of them asked.

That’s funny. We all came from the same audition and they don’t know what I’m playing. I stopped and looked at them. “What did they have you do in there?”

“I’ll show you,” one of them said, while the other nodded. They each got their basses and played something completely different from what I had just done.

The three of us continued to talk some more and finally our manners kicked in and we introduced ourselves to each other. “I’m Jamie,” I said, extending my hand.

Andy, Bobby, and I started chatting and finding out each others influences and preferred choices of style. We all had similar backgrounds in playing and were almost the same age. I started to say something about coincidences, but I kept it to myself since it didn’t seem important.

Bobby seemed very introverted and didn’t want to talk about anything but his playing. Even then he gave one syllable answers to any question asked.

Andy couldn’t have been anymore opposite, he was so stuck on himself that I almost had an immediate dislike for him. He acted like a lead singer with his attitude always “I can do this better than you” and “That’s not the best way to do it.”

I gave up on talking to him and directed my attention to Bobby. He apparently felt the same way, so finally Andy got the hint and walked away to the opposite side of the room mumbling to himself about queers and fags and other shit I didn’t pay attention to.

I changed my opinion of him quickly. He didn’t have a lead singer attitude, he acted like a jock! Yuck! Bobby blushing after Andy’s rude comments and seemed to be embarrassed. Without thought I put my hand on Bobby’s leg and told him to ignore Andy, as he wasn’t worth it. Bobby looked at me in shock. I didn’t realize why ‘til I looked down and saw my hand on his leg. Oops! I rocketed my hand back and tried to hide my own blush.

A l-o-n-g awkward pause followed.
 
 
After what felt like an endless amount of time, they called over the intercom for the three of us to go back into the studio. Once there the “voice” asked us to sit down.

I grabbed one of the two available chairs; and Andy pulled the chair literally out from under Bobby as he went to sit down. I got pissed and helped Bobby to his feet and turned toward Andy too as they say ‘have a talk with Andy.’

“Boys,” the voice said very loudly, “stop that before something else happens.”

Andy moved his chair a few feet away from Bobby and me, so we shared the chair half a cheek each.

The voice sounded pissed as she asked what the hell was going on?

Andy continued being his asshole self. “I don’t want to sit by no fag. By now I would hope you people realize I’m a much better player than either of them two homos.”

“That’s quite enough, Andy,” the voice said. “You can go.”

“I can go? You’re NOT serious. You would take one of those two over me, what kind of bullshit. . . .”

“You can leave, Andy.” The voice said with much more authority than it had used before.

Two chairs. Two people. Bobby and I each took one.

“What are your personal schedules like for the next six months?”

Bobby and I told the voice we could clear things away so we could work fulltime.

“Are you willing to tour?”

I felt ecstatic just thinking about it. Bobby, on the other hand, got more and more distraught with each passing question.

“What’s up, Bobby?” I asked.

“I’m only sixteen,” he admitted.

The voice asked him to repeat what he had just said.

“I’m only sixteen,” he said again with a tear forming in his eye. “This is what I eventually want, but I can’t possibly commit to something this big.” He gathered his things and left looking back with regret. I sighed sadly for him.

Hey wait! Two chairs and me!? Do I have the gig? Or is there something else?
 
 
Suddenly, another door opened and the lights inside the studio soundroom come on. Three people plus Lauren sat in the room around a small sound console and some tape machines. They waved and appeared to be leaving the room to come in to talk to me.

I’m finally going to get some answers.

However, Lauren was the only person to come in. She took a seat in the other chair next to me. She stared at her clipboard and started to ask some more questions. “How committed are you to being a professional musician?”

The question startled me in a way, I did as Mom had always taught me, I paused, thought and then answered. “Lauren, I have always wanted to be a pro.” It was time for me to know a few things. “I really don’t understand what you’re asking of me within the band. Can you fill in some more details?”

She seemingly ignored my question and asked me for my thoughts on different bands, equipment, and stage shows. “What did you think about Andy?”

“Candidly?”

She nodded.

“Asshole!”

“Okay,” she replied, not tipping her hand. “And what about Bobby?”

“Quiet, but a really nice guy.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Will you submit to a drug test?”

“Sure,” I said, “but I’m clean. Can’t stand drugs and have a hard time with the people who use them.”

“Does that mean you also don’t drink?”

“I don’t like drugs, but I’m not a saint. A little drink now and again is good for the soul, but hey, I’m underage, so my idea of a big time is a can of beer.”

Than she started asking about guys, girls, gays, lesbians and she gave me this very soulful look, the kind that you can feel deep inside your spirit.

I couldn’t hold her stare anymore, “Lauren I’m ‘try-sexual.’ I’m willing to try anything once, more if it feels good!” I smacked my hand over my mouth, before I said something else to get me in trouble. This woman is way too easy to talk to. I’ve only met her today and already I feel I can talk about anything with her. Weird!

“Lauren, if you will have me, I’m yours.”

I hadn’t really meant the double-entendre, but she just laughed and stage whispered. “After you sign the contract you will be.”

She had me floundering on the ropes again. I was so flustered I couldn’t answer her so as the saying goes “When in doubt, smile” so that’s what I did.

She stood. “It’s time to go and meet the rest of the band. After that, if you’re ready we can sign the contract admitting you officially as our bass player.”

I grabbed my case and we started out the door. Surprisingly it was already dark outside. We got in her Jeep and drove for about thirty minutes on the Southern State Parkway to the Robert Mosses Causeway going toward the ocean. We got off at the last exit and drove down to a secluded beach house.

All the lights were on and there seemed to be a party going on inside. This gorgeous house was huge and it sat right on the Great South Bay. It had big open windows allowing the salt air to flow through. We walked up to the front door and Lauren walked inside like she owned the place.

I followed her into the living room and found a few people milling around.

As soon as they all saw Lauren everyone shut up quickly and someone turned down the music. All eyes turned toward her. I stood behind her, but I thought I had seen one of the people before.

Bobby?
 
 
He or she looked more like a twin sister of the boy I had met that afternoon. I walked over to this person to look a little closer when she spoke.

“Hi Jamie, welcome to the group”

“Bobby, is that you?” I asked.

I got an honest giggle from her, definitely a most delicious “her.”

“I’m Bobbie, as you know. You and I are the rhythm for these lifeless girls. Dawn,” she pointed toward one of the other girls, “plays Guitar. Frankie,” she indicated another, “plays the keyboards. Hannah is the adorable redhead over in the corner, and she plays lead guitar. Everyone this is Jamie, she is our bass player -- and like me another drummer.”

I looked at Lauren. “Can I speak to you outside, ALONE!”

I appeared to be the only guy here. Most guys would be in seventh or eighth heaven, but something didn’t feel quite right.

Lauren nodded. ”Would you like a drink or would you like to go to the office first to talk?”

“Office first, please,” I stated.

As we walked in an office near the front of the house, I didn’t even wait for the door close. “Why was I introduced as a she? What’s the deal?”

Lauren took a deep breath and pointed to a chair for me, as she walked around the desk.

“Jamie,” she said easily to me “this is a girl band, if you want to be in it you have to be a girl.”

All my dreams of the last hour went up in smoke. “But, I’m a guy!”

“Are you sure? Are you really and truly sure you’re a guy, through and through?”

My jaw fell open.

Lauren laughed. “All of the ‘girls’ you met out there are really ‘guys.’ They’re the same as you, but they’re girls as far as the band and the outside world is concerned.”

I shook my head.

She took up a professional tone again. “We at Venus Records have decided that the GoGo’s aren’t the way for women musicians to be viewed by the rest of the world. We want a band that actually has talent, chops, and a stage presence that will be unmatched. Now before you ask, ‘Why aren’t we using real women’ it’s really very simple. There aren’t many Pat Benatar or Lita Ford lying around. We aren’t trying for a girl band niche. We want this band to have staying power and become a real dynamo in the music business.”

All of that made sense, but. . . .

She continued. “We’ve already done some test marketing on the girls with a poster; 250,000 posters sold in three weeks without anyone even knowing anything about them except they’re a bunch of hot-looking women with instruments!”

Lauren pointed to a wall behind me. I knew before I even turned around what the poster looked like. I had it hanging in my basement where I practiced. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Lauren’s face told me she had misinterpreted my laugh.

I quickly held my hands up in a surrender move. ‘Lauren, when you described the poster I knew what it was before looking. I have the poster and I wondered who they were -- now I guess I know”

She looked a little relieved at my explanation.

It was time for true confessions on my part. I looked at Lauren and tried to stare at her but I couldn’t hold her gaze.
 
 
Taking a deep breath, I started. “In 1976 I was 10 years old. I watched the Olympics. I saw this beautiful little creature, a Romanian, Nadia Comaneci. She had grace and was so petite, with legs that looked incredible. She was the gymnast that scored all the perfect 10’s that year.

“I fell in love with her, but in a special way. I wanted to be just like her. After the Olympics were over I tried to do some of the things that she did. I found a leotard and tights in my sister’s closet. When no one was home I would prance around and pretend to be a gymnast.”

Lauren’s face had remained calm and gave no indication of anything but interest, so I continued.

“One day I had the stereo up to loud, so I never heard my mother come in. She caught me dressed as girl. I had my hair up in a bun, some really bad makeup on, and honestly looked horrible! She didn’t say anything mean to me, but she quietly asked what I was doing, I just broke and ran straight upstairs to my room and hid.”

Lauren listened intently and nodded.

“By the time dinner was ready she convinced me to downstairs; and we ate in silence. Afterwards I was told I was to do the dishes alone. Everyone left but Mom. She just watched me with this strange look in her eyes. When I thought I was done doing the dishes and felt ready to go back to my room, she called me over and had me sit down. “What were you doing?” she asked. This afternoon, when I came home, what were you doing?” I laid my heart out to her and told her everything about seeing the Olympics and wanting to be like those girls. She reacted very gently and told me I could never be like those girls because I was a boy, but she did it in such a way as to not ridicule me.

“She didn’t say anything else -- just told me to get ready for bed. Not wanting to get her any angrier I did just that and went upstairs to bed. The next morning I woke up in something different than I went to sleep in -- I awoke in a Pooh Bear nightie. To this day I have no idea how she did it.

“The next day when I got home from school there was a bag on my bed with a new team U.S.A. leotard, dance skirt, tights, sport panties, and ballerina shoes with a simple one word note — ‘Enjoy!’ I didn’t move from that spot, Mom found me standing right there when she came home hours later. She could see the tears running silently down my face as I stood there in a trance.
She tapped me on my shoulder and I collapsed on the bed wondering what happened and how she got there. I saw the time and couldn’t believe it. I had been standing there for over two hours.
She asked me what I had been thinking about; and I told her -- me as the gymnast. I had replayed the whole Olympics in my mind with me in it. She then asked me why I was crying as that was a wonderful dream. I told her I was crying for something that could never be.
So you see, Lauren, being in a girl band, to me, right now -- is another dream that can never be.”
 
 
At that point I broke down; tears fell and wouldn’t stop. I didn’t notice when Lauren got up and left the room. All I felt was a pair of arms wrap around and hold me. When I finished crying, someone handed me Kleenex. After I blew the gunk out and cleared my eyes, I turned to look expecting to see Lauren. It was Bobbie.

She still had her arm around me, holding me, keeping away my demons. Just because of that simple kindness I would have signed on to do what they wanted. Her sweetness was something I haven’t felt in a very long time from anyone outside of my family.

Then Bobbie said something so simple, yet so profound, I will always remember her words.

“You aren’t alone sister”
 
 
To Be Continued...

Sometimes being a musician is not enough
and one must rise up to the challenge to play to a different tune.

And The Bass Player Gets The Girl Part 2 - Acceptance? By TGJaime Copyright© 2007 TGJaime All Rights Reserved. This is a reworked version of the story I posted earlier. So much better that I decided to remove the original. Angela Rasch helped me immensely in editing, I owe her tons of thanks! Thank you Angela! ~TGJaime

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Part 2 - Acceptance?
 
Acceptance?

Such simple life-changing words. I honestly didn’t know what to do at that point, I started to get up but Bobbie held me down and asked me to sit with her for a second.

Bobbie looked at me. “We’re going to be great together. We both play bass and drums; we both understand rhythms and times -- when it’s time to be outrageous and loud, and when it is time to be laid back.”

I smiled at her. It did indeed seem like we had a great deal of similarities.

She leaned forward, seemingly excited. “I really loved what you were doing in ‘Whisper,’ which, by the way, was the song you played around with during the audition. I’d never thought about using harmonics to do a fill. Where did you learn to do that? Can you show me? What else do you play?”

“Whoa, one question atta’ time.” I laughed. It seemed like Bobbie came alive when she talked about music. I could hardly answer one, before there were three more in the queue. In less than a few minutes she had gotten me to relax.

We decided I should get up and really meet the band; I still hadn’t seen a contract, but I felt better about signing with each passing moment.

When I went to the living room Lauren came over and gave me a hug. “Are you alright?”

I nodded my head. “Yeah, I’m alright, and I think I’m in.”

Bobbie squealed a note so high that I thought the windows were going to crack, and then she gave me a painful, rib-cracking hug, which was followed by hugs or handshakes from almost everyone.
 
 
After everyone else, Hannah came over; she had been acting kind of strange around me, casting her eyes toward the ground. I couldn’t understand why, but everyone else backed up giving her space. Hannah finally got so close she almost stepped on my toes. I didn’t know what to do so I stood there feeling dumbfounded and looked at her. My eyes went around the room hoping to find a clue, but they said nothing.

Hannah finally looked up to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Welcome Jamie, how are you?”

I stared at the red-haired, green-eyed goddess until finally the bolt of lightning she was waiting for appeared. I tried to say something -- but something, my tongue I think, kept getting in the way. “Ha. . .Har. . .Harry, is that you?”

Hannah fixed me dead in the eyes, bit her lip, and laughed lightly. “Nope, I’m his twin sister”

I have known Harry for almost twelve years. Harry didn’t have any sisters and I’m his brother. We went to school together, camped together, learned how to play music together, we even went on our first dates together when we were thirteen -- chaperoned of course.

Harry and I had considered KISS the ultimate rock band; I would pretend to be Gene and he would be Paul. Hell -- Harry and I even shared first kisses together with the same girl playing spin the bottle at a birthday party. Later our parents split the doctor’s bill for the case of Mono we both got from her.

Then poof -- he vanished off the face of the earth. It had been two years since Harry’s family disappeared overnight -- actually twenty-five months, two weeks, four days and almost sixteen hours. Even the post office didn’t know where they had gone. I know -- I tried there also.

Everyone else in the room seemed to think the reunion of two old and close personal friends had to be the greatest thing that ever happened. Harry knew me better than that.

Every time I looked at Harry/Hannah my blood pressure went up a notch. I saw Harry of two years ago-- no longer did I see the beautiful girl in front of me -- and he started backing up. Every step he took backward followed by one from me, forward. When Harry reached the wall he knew what was to come.

My temper rarely gets the best of me. I’m a slow boiler, but when I did go off it usually spelled a Vesuvius-like catastrophe for someone. It had taken grown men to pull me away from a fight.

I started screaming at Harry and clenched my fist ready to wail on him. Luckily, Harry knew something. I would never ever hurt anyone’s gear. Harry picked up his guitar and held it to his chest cradling it like a baby. All I would do was scream some more about how he betrayed me and how he no longer could be called my friend.

He dissolved into tears, as did I. They took me outside; and I lost track of where he went, I didn’t care. All the hurt and pain came back like a tidal wave. My blood brother -- my best friend beyond all others -- had left me.

Alone and deserted.
 
 
After I stopped screaming they allowed me to come back into the house. They told me, in no uncertain terms to “sit down and shut up.” I started to argue, but quit when I saw the fire in Lauren’s eyes.

She handed me a drink. Uhhhmmm, Cuba Libre,

I wonder how she knew, I snickered to myself.

Lauren had just started to talk when a door opened up and Harry walked in. “Lauren, I should be the one to tell him, I owe him that” He turned toward me. “Do you promise not to say anything, not one question, ‘til I am done?”

Then he did something that went back to our youth; he held out his fist with the pinkie extended. Harry didn’t force it; he just held it there waiting for its match. I could see pain in his eyes. Good he deserves it for abandoning me. I slammed my right fist into his left and linked pinkies, squeezing as hard as we could. Words had never been needed.
 
 
I followed him outside to the dock where we could be alone. Harry walked in front of me. I took several cool, calming, deep breaths and forced myself to focus. We found two chairs that faced the water. After a moment to seemingly collect his thoughts, he started talking.

“Do you remember my Dad always being gone?”

I nodded and waited for him to go on.

“Mom always said he was on long business trips.” He stopped and rested his chin on his knuckle.
“Well. . .I finally found out where he was all those times. He was an undercover buyer for the DEA.”

I tried to be cool, but what Harry told me blew me away.

He nodded, apparently sensing my shock. “He helped set up deals to get the big cartel families in a country the U.S. had an extradition agreement with. Evidently he was very successful until someone ratted him out. They pulled him from South America right before a buy was supposed to take place, and then flew him to Washington to testify before a Senate Committee on Drugs and Counter Drug Programs. Part of his testimony leaked, as did his identity. They put us all into the Federal Witness protection program. I’ve been living on the west coast for the last two years, Jamie. We weren’t allowed to contact family or friends.”

He stopped and caught my eyes in his. “Don’t you think I know how you feel?”

I shook my head, unable to gather my thoughts.

He spoke again, quietly and wavering as the words came hard to him.

“With the exception of one event, I’ve been utterly alone these last years. The only thing that kept me alive was our promise to always be there for each other.”

I shuddered, remembering how that promise had stuck in my craw as the weeks turned into months, and then into years, with no word.

He closed his eyes and gathered himself before continuing. “Don’t you see I didn’t have a choice? I know it sounds far-fetched and you probably don’t believe me. Sometimes I don’t believe it myself. I barely know anything beyond what I told you. Dad died of a heart attack last year so I can never ask him. Mom didn’t take it very well.”

I gasped. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I only met him a few times, but he seemed like a great guy.”

“Uh huh,” he agreed. “I wish I could have known him better, but he was all about service to his country.”
 
 
Silence engulfed us except for waves lapping the dock. I wanted to forgive Harry, but the chasm between us seemed endless. It all seemed much too easy after all this time — like something out of a B movie that went right to DVD.

Harry finally broke the moment with a quiet whisper. “Okay, Jamie, what questions do you have?”

Silence returned and walled us in. The bile from my desire to call Harry a liar tasted like acid.

I hate how I feel. I want to believe him in the worst way. It’s so damned incredible. I can believe it actually happened that way. . .almost. I want to believe and that’s what makes the difference, wanting to believe.

I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t. I stepped over in front of Harry’s chair and stared at him. When he wouldn’t match eyes, I lifted his chin, and watched his soundless tears flow.

He probably didn’t want me to see him crying, again. I held out my hands and helped stand. I couldn’t let go, wouldn’t let go again. Regardless, for whatever reason, my brother had returned. There was only one thing left to do. I just had to ask.

“How in the hell did you end up a red head?”

Hannah laughed; tears flowed freely from our eyes. Without thinking I did the most natural thing, something I never would to Harry. I kissed her, chaste, but right on the lips.

“Welcome back,” I said. “I’ve missed you.”

Arms linked, we walked back inside talking like we had never separated. We never would be again, that’s for sure.

Lauren had been waiting by the door. Her shy smile asked us where things stood.

Tension and a whole lot of un-answered, un-asked questions buzzed through the air around us. Hannah walked over to the couch and sat down; the room had gotten very quiet waiting.

“Could we have something to drink, Lauren?” I asked.

Instead of a drink, I received a strange look and a question. “I asked you before, are you in or out?”

I broke out in a smile, the biggest I’d had in two years. “Girls,” I started out saying, but than changed my mind and decided to address each one. “Bobbie, Dawn, Frankie, Hannah, and Lauren -- I said before that I’m in, but I need a few questions answered, before I can make that final.”

I took a deep breath. “I look around at you girls, and rationally I know you are guys -- or at least I know Harry is, for sure -- but I’m not seeing anything fake about it. You all look like girls with real ti… uuummm breasts and everything. Are you trying to pull something over on me?”

Several of them giggled and most of them smiled broadly.

“No — really. I’ve known Harry. . .Hannah. . .longer than anyone in this world with the exception of my family.” I turned toward her. “Are those real tits you’ve got there?!” I could feel my blush. “Hannah, what’s up with that?”

“Can we hear all your questions before we start answering?” Lauren asked.

I nodded my agreement. “Secondly, I can’t imagine what’s going on is widely known outside of those involved -- otherwise the band would be just another freak show.”

No one made a move to answer so I pushed on.

“. . .and lastly. What do. . .what are you doing about your families and friends? How are you telling them -- or what are you telling them?”

“Do you have any questions about the musical part?” Lauren asked.

I shook my head. “Although I need some answers to what I’ve asked, before I can honestly give my heart to this - - - musically speaking that’s the easiest part, when Bobbie told me that ‘Whisper’ was an original song of yours, I was hooked right there.”

I kept looking over at Hannah while I talked, but I didn’t get any reaction I could read.

“I need some answers. . .please,” I pleaded.

I looked directly into their eyes, wanting them to feel the sincerity I had tried to put into my questions. I wanted everything to work out -- somehow. I truly, in my heart of hearts, wanted to be a real musician -- a professional. To top it off, I would give anything to be with my friend again, and anything to feel whole.
 
 
I sat down, purposely apart from the others, Hannah included. I needed separation, as “confused” didn’t even come close to describing how I felt.

Lauren, seemingly in the role of manager, took center stage and started off. “Jamie, we’ve thrown a lot at you today. The audition today wasn’t so we could judge your musical ability. Hannah already vouched for you as a person and as a player. I’m happy to say she was correct on both counts.”

Hannah gave me two thumbs up.

Lauren started again. “I had to see for myself if you were the type of person we. . .” She waved her hand at the others to define “we.” “. . .could deal with. You showed great compassion with Bobby in two ways, even though you just met him. First when you tried to shield him from that asshole Andy, and then when you shared your chair with him.”

Lauren took a deep breath, and then continued -- looking at Bobbie, but talking to me. “Your simple kindness won my heart; you see Bobbie is my son and daughter.”

I could see the resemblance in their quiet beauty.

Lauren looked around the room. “All these girls have issues. Hannah, your friend, has more demons than anyone I know — eighteen-years old and she has lost her family, friends and -- worst for her -- her father.”

I looked toward my long-time friend, feeling guilty for all the bad things I’d thought about her.

Lauren stood and touched Hannah on the shoulder. “She wanted one thing out of this band. You!”

I bit my lip to stop my pain.

“Dawn and Frankie have their own issues,” Lauren said after a moment. “They want to be professional musicians, like you, but they specifically want to be ‘female’ musicians.
No, they aren’t genuine girls -- yet, but someday, if this works out, they will be.”

Bobbie, Dawn, and Frankie all fidgeted with what appeared to be excitement. Lauren gave them a smile and kept on going. “I asked before we even left the studio how committed you were to being a professional. You said you always wanted to be a professional musician. I’m offering you that. You asked about them having as you said ‘real tits.’ ”

I blushed, wishing I had chosen other words.

“Yes,” Lauren continued. “they’re real.”

At that I could feel the intensity of my blush rise through my face as the girls giggled.

“They have chosen to grow their own. They’re all taking female hormones. Hannah is taking smaller amounts because she isn’t sure yet if she wants to be fully female. If she decides she isn’t big enough by the time we are ready to play, she can either choose to have implants or to wear supplements.”
 
 
I waited for one of the other girls to say something, but whenever they tried Lauren would put up her hand in a silencing motion.

“Is there really a record deal?” I asked quietly. “And who is Venus Records? I have never heard of them.”

She pulled a business card out of her purse and handed it to me.

As I read it, I started a nervous laugh.

Dr. Lauren Michaels, President
Venus Records and Entertainment
800-645-5433
10 S Main Street New York, New York 10044
 
“I’ve been around the entertainment business for almost my whole life,” Lauren said. “I’ve done everything from taping down cables to sound engineer -- even performing in off-Broadway productions. My family has been in the business even longer; Bobbie’s grandfather started Venus Entertainment back in vaudeville times. When he and my husband died, I was the sole heiress and took control.”

Lauren remained in the room with us, but you could see in her eyes she had traveled a million miles away.

“Before that I was a Psychologist working for Nassau County Medical Center. My specialty was juveniles with Behavioral Issues, really my specialty because of Bobbie having Sexual Identity Disorders.

When everything fell to me I found a way to help not only Bobbie but also others like her. That’s why this project is so very important to me. I’m trying to do something unique here and yes, part of it is a lie---I know that. But I don’t care; Bobbie is the single most important person in the world to me.”

Her eyes drilled deep into my soul. “Bottom line, no prevarication, are you willing to be part of this? You told me some of your history. I won’t go into that here. that is for you to tell when it is right for you, but I know I can help you just like I am helping these girls.”

Wow. When she throws the ball back into your court you know it! “What do I tell my family Lauren? I mean. . .I know it doesn’t happen overnight. . .growing I mean. . .and being a girl, but what do I say when they ask me about this band? I want to do it; I want to say ‘yes’ right now, but I don’t know. I guess I’m just scared, this is a huge opportunity.”

I felt like a fool, not being more resolved. “Do you need an answer right now, or will tomorrow be ok?”

She wanted something from me, I just didn’t know what or how to give it.

I needed time, but as the YES song says, Tempus Fugit.
 
To Be Continued...

Sometimes being a musician is not enough
and one must rise up to the challenge to play to a different tune.

And The Bass Player Gets The Girl Part 3 - Tempus Fugit By TGJaime Copyright© 2007 TGJaime All Rights Reserved. Special Thanks to Angela Rasch for her continued Help, Guidance and Masterful Editing. ~TGJaime

---

 
 
Part 3 - Tempus Fugit
 
I walked outside with no destination in mind. I needed space. I needed solace. I kept hearing songs running thru my mind. I needed to figure out what to do.

My thoughts were running light years ahead, so fast the Millennium Falcon wouldn’t have a chance. Words and phrases running thru my head, parts of songs -- but one in particular seemed to be calling. Was the name of the group my answer? It couldn’t be that simple.

Two sets of versus kept replaying over and over.

How did they fit? Had the answer even been written? Am I just the leopard? Hiding in plain sight, never letting someone know who the real me is? Or am I traveling along a circular line? I had always equated liking women’s clothing as gay, but I’ve never felt an attraction to guys…. Am I wrong?

The song fit my mind-set; its rhythmic pace varied with my thoughts. . . .powerful.

I stopped by the breakwater, and sat on some rocks just singing, Trevor Horn I’m not, but tonight I have his voice.
 
 
Tempus Fugit, Yes,
Album Drama, released 1980
Downes/Horn/Howe/Squire/White

Born in the night
She would run like a leopard
That freaks at the sight
Of a mind close beside herself
And the nearer I came
How the country would change
She was using the landscape
To hide herself.

More in the mind
Than the body this feeling
A sense at the end
Of a circular line
That is drawn at an angle
I see when I'm with you
To navigate waters and finally answer to - yes.

If you were there you would want to be near me
Innocence, you could hold the materials
And though nothing would really be living
It would shock Your fall into landing light
In the north sky time flies fast to the morning
The cold of the dawn it meant nothing to us
You were keeping your best situation
An answer to - yes

(Yes, Yes) And the moment I see you
(Yes, Yes) It's so good to be near you
(Yes, Yes) And the feeling you give me
(Yes, Yes) Makes me want to be with you
(Yes, Yes) From the moment you tell me - yes

If you could see all the roads I have traveled
Towards some unusable last equilibrium
Run like an athlete and die like a dead beaten speed-freak
An answer to all of your answers to - yes

In the north sky time flies faster than morning
The cold of the dawn it meant nothing to us
You were keeping your best situation
An answer to Yes

(Yes, Yes) And the moment I see you
(Yes, Yes) It's so good to be near you
(Yes, Yes) And the feeling you give me
(Yes, Yes) Makes me want to be with you
(Yes, Yes) If we wait for an answer
(Yes, Yes) Will the silence be broken?
(Yes, Yes) Should we wait for an answer?
(Yes, Yes) Do we leave it unspoken?
 
 
My voice slowly faded across the water. Music truly is magical.
 
 
I had no idea what time it was, but it felt late. I tried to do what I always done whenever making a tough decision, B K or Mc D’s? Steak or Chicken? Ford or Chevy?

I tried to think of the pros and cons before making an immense decision.

What are the consequences?

What did I know?
1) I wanted to play music
2) I wanted to play with Harry; well I guess its “Hannah” now.
3) The thought of dressing like a girl didn’t bother me. Just looking at myself I was half way there already in the poet’s blouse. Jeans -- well they’re neutral and so are my tennie-runners. Not mentioning the unmentionables. More than half way, I guess.

There were innumerable others out there but those were the majors I could grasp right away.

Pros:
Being a successful musician.
Being part of something special.
Doing what I love.

Cons:
I would open myself to ridicule... Funny, the longer I thought about trying to be a girl, the more I realized all my life I’ve been trying to be a guy.

I tried to define failure. What will my family say? Will I lose them? Does pretending to be a girl make me gay?

Consequences:
I could become famous, rich, and successful. Maybe
I might lose my family and the few other friends I have, but not Mom, she can deal.
I will have Hannah around. Gawd I didn’t realize how much I missed her.

Many more thoughts came at me.

Where did being a girl fall in? I knew that since I was young I felt okay about wearing girl’s clothes. The idea of having my own breasts was something that didn’t scare me.

I flashed back to when I had been twelve and the Doctor felt my nipples for nodules and said “all boy.” I remember how that depressed me at the time; and I didn’t know why.

I guess I have better idea of why now.

But do I want to be a girl? It comes down to that. . . .

If it were just for the music there wouldn’t be a question; I would have already signed the contract.
 
 
Splash. I guess the fish are out tonight. A few minutes later another splash.

“Penny for your thoughts,” said a not so distant voice. “Didn’t you know I was here?” Hannah asked.

“No, I didn’t here you coming.”

“I’ve been either sitting or standing here for almost an hour. Do you know how long you’ve been out here?” She laughed. “You’re still the deep thinker. Its after midnight, you’ve been out here almost three hours. I was getting worried about you.” She walked closer to me. “Skooch over rock hog”

I did. We sat quietly together as we had often done as kids, looking out over the water for a few minutes.

It’s funny, as soon as I heard Hannah’s voice a sense of peace washed over me, an inner calm. Her presence just reinforced that tranquility all the more.

Hannah broke the silence. “Did you come to any conclusions?” When she got no reply she continued on. “Let me guess some of your worries; and you can tell me if I’m close.”

“I know you aren’t worried about girls’ clothes, you’ve been wearing them longer than me and I’m not talking about stage clothes either. You never were good at removing you Mom’s makeup, bozo!” She laughed at my foolish look of outrage.

“I think what’s really bothering you is that the idea of being in a girls’ band as a girl doesn’t disgust you. I honestly think you want it but are afraid of being you and doing it.”

When did you get so smart?

She grinned. “I’ve found something by doing this; it’s like a missing puzzle piece. I think you will too. I don’t know how far I will go -- maybe a guy with something special.” She pushed up her budding breasts. “Or maybe I’ll be a girl with a ‘lil extra. Maybe even all the way to full womanhood. Only time will tell where this adventure will take me.”

I took hold of Hannah’s hand, give her a little squeeze, and held on. She knows more about me than I thought. How? I thought no one could tell. . . . Who else knows about this? . . . Mom . . .Hannah obviously . . . who else?

I turned toward her. “How did you know? Hannah . . . how did you know about me -- I mean? Was something I said or did. . .or what?”

“I guess in a way I’ve always known there was more between us than just friendship -- kindred spirits I guess. All I knew was I always felt different with everyone than I did around you. I could be free with you, no worries. You wouldn’t think I was weird if I cried at a movie or something sad. You would just put your arm around me and make me feel better. You didn’t ridicule me for having emotions like a typical guy would. I’ve always loved you for that. That was one regret I had when we left . . . that I never got the chance to tell you.”

“You’re right about all of that. I’ve always felt closer to you than anyone -- but you knew that.”
 
 
We continued sitting, looking out over the water and holding each other’s hand in quiet companionship.

Even though I was totally certain about Hannah’s friendship, there still were things I needed to know. “How did you meet Lauren anyway and where is your Mom now? I assume she knows what your doing, right?”

“Well actually I didn’t meet Lauren till about six months ago. I met Bobbie first at camp last year. She is really a sweetie. Anyway, after Dad died, I was going to a psychologist to deal with that mess when the whole ‘I wanna be a girl’ thing came up.
Mom of course got called in and heard the diagnosis from this guy. GD.”

“Huh?”

“ ‘Gender Dysphoria’ Oh. . .” Hannah stopped for a moment and collected herself. “I thought Mom was a whole hell of a lot more liberal than she really is.” She said halfheartedly.

“Somehow she found this summer camp for kids that have GD. The kids there want to try being the other gender. For some it’s a vacation, for others, it’s the start of their Real Life Test to see if they can function as the other gender. It was a blast; I was truly free for the first time. I felt truly relaxed, which is an amazing feeling! After I was there a few days I found out they had a music building; and when I went in I saw Bobbie; she was banging on the drums pretty fierce. They had a double kick, eight pieces set that sounded awesome. I went over and grabbed a guitar that was hanging in the rack plugged into the half stack Marshall and we started jamming -- by the end of the day we had some pretty good songs going on. That’s where we wrote ‘Whisper’ as well as a few others you haven’t heard yet.”

At that point Hannah let go my hand and pulled herself into a little ball and started rocking slowly back and forth. I had seen that happen before.

Something bad was coming.

I just sat by for her when she needed me. I knew she would.

She took a deep breath and continued on “Mom sent me there to show me that being a girl was no big deal, so I would ‘get over it’ as she put it. She told me that I was just going through a phase. She said if I wanted to, I could be cured. All this happened after we left the camp; I wore a nice sundress home and was all made-up pretty, I even had gotten my ears pierced there, see? I tried to show her how happy I was. She wouldn’t say anything on the drive home. Over six hours passed and the only things she would ask were bathroom and food questions. I couldn’t tell what I had done wrong.”

The moonlight glistened off Hannah’s tears as they ran down both her cheeks.

“Once we got home though she told me ‘that’s it, you’re a young man get out of those clothes’. When I told her ‘no I didn’t want to’ she started getting physical, she tried ripping the dress off me. I grabbed my bag, ran up to my room, and locked the door. I wanted to leave right there. Everything I had experienced that summer was so wonderful, I never wanted it to end.”

“Thankfully I had exchanged phone numbers with Bobbie. I must have tried calling her like fifty times before I got a hold of her. She could hear Mom screaming downstairs through the phone. She told me to tell my mom that if she didn’t settle down I would call the police and ask for protective custody. When I did, Mom swore at me, but things finally got quiet.”

I cringed trying to imagine the sweet woman I knew as Harry’s mom acting so horribly.

Hannah sniffed and continued. “The next few months were a living hell. The only thing Mom would say to me was ‘when are you going to change” and ‘Take that off, right this instant!’ and whatever else she could say to get under my skin. When I didn’t acquiesce she would just start screaming all over again. I was a nervous wreck. I lived in fear that she would break into my room and throw away anything feminine. I had to get out of there. The day after my 18th birthday I did.”
 
 
I slid closer to her and wrapped my arm around her, providing the simple comfort she needed. It made me feel better too that I could do something, anything to make her feel better.

“But that still doesn’t answer my question. How did you meet Lauren and how did you get here?” I asked as gently as I could.

“Well while all this was going on Bobbie was telling her Mom about this friend that was having problems. One thing led to another and I was invited to come and stay awhile. That was six months ago.”

“Have you talked to your Mom since?”

“She wouldn’t answer my cell phone, I suppose she used caller ID to avoid me. I called once from a pay phone, after she found out who it was, she hung up on me. I haven’t tried since.

That’s why when Lauren was talking to you she said I lost both my parents.”

Her tears started, again, at first just a trickle.

“Its ok, Hannah, I wont leave you”

She cried and I added my tears with hers, feeling the pain my dear friend had endured.

There was still one question on my mind, but that would wait for another day. Why didn’t you call me?

I had two things left to do: talk to Lauren and go home to have a talk with Mom.
 
 
We got ourselves together and walked back toward the house. “The lights are still on, so I guess someone’s home,” I quipped. All that got in response was a soggy moan from Hannah. When we got inside Bobbie and Frankie were still awake talking with Lauren. Dawn had gone to bed.

Bobbie took one look at Hannah and rushed over taking her from me sending me a dirty look.

“Lauren, can we talk for a few minutes?” I asked quietly. Lauren nodded and followed me back into her office. I could hear Hannah telling Bobbie and Frankie that everything was ok with her, what happened and what the outcome hopefully would be. I closed the door after we got inside.
 
 
Once we were both seated I started. “I want in the band, I’ve thought it over and I think we will all make a great match. I have a good feeling about the people involved in this whole project. It’s crazy enough I think it just might work.” I said with a smile. “But I have one favor to ask of you. I’m going to talk to my Mom tomorrow and tell her about the band and everything involved. I don’t know what her reaction will be. So planning for the worst, do you have a spare bedroom that I might use, if needed?”

While I was talking, Lauren’s smile grew bigger by the sentence.

“Jamie, all the girls live here. You already have a bedroom; this is ‘our’ house.”

You could have knocked me over with a feather with that one.

Lauren looked at me with questioning eyes. She shuffled some papers. “Are you ready for this, Once you sign, you can’t walk away, this is a five-year exclusive contract with Venus Records. You sign this and you become a commodity, for purposes of the business you can’t play out, record out, or even jam with another signed act without my permission. If you understand what I have told you and have no further questions -- read the contract, initial each page at the bottom in the spot indicated and sign on the bottom of the last page.”

Taking a deep breath I opened the contract and started reading

VENUS RECORDS, INC.
EXCLUSIVE RECORDING CONTRACT

Agreement made as of the 15 day of May, 1984,
by and between Venus Entertainment & Records, Inc. ("VENUS"), a New York Corporation, doing business at
10 S Main Street, New York, New York, 10044 all of whom are
professionally known as Fly Trap and (referred to herein, individually and
collectively as "you," "Artist" or "Parties"). (You are sometimes called "the
Artist" below: all references in this agreement to "you and the Artist" and the
like, are understood to refer to you, alone.)

It continues for pages and pages of legal mumbo jumbo till I got to the end, 16.7 sections.

Very truly yours,
Venus Records, Inc.
Dr. Lauren Michaels
 
 

AGREED TO AND ACCEPTED:

--------------------------
Jamie Marie Johnson DATE OF BIRTH: 11 November 1965

SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER: 123-45-6789
 
 
“Lauren, who is Jamie Marie Johnson?”

There were more documents. It was a medical form petitioning the Courts of New York State to Repair all legal documentation, it corrected a deficiency in regards to the declared sex and also to grant a Legal Name Change Pursuant to the medical findings.

“Why ‘Jamie Marie Johnson’ is the new you, honey,” she said with a smile. “Because of what we are doing, I’m trying to keep as much factual information above board, as possible. Everything I do will be done legally. I may ride the grey area but I won’t break any laws. It can be changed back to male if sometime in the future that’s what you want. But for the length of your contract you are required to eat, sleep, and live as a female; that’s why everyone stays here, so we can immerse you in a totally feminine environment. Trust me! You’ve only seen a small bit of this compound. Eventually once you’re settled, you and the other girls will be in the media and trade papers. I already have the marketing department floating around new ideas for another poster with all five of you. Just think -- four of the hottest musicians sold 250 thousand posters -- imagine what five will be able to do.”

I could see the gears spinning in her head with ideas.

She waved her hands as she continued. ‘The more publicity we can get through the posters and magazine articles, the better it will help in our ultimate goal — which is selling records and getting you guys out on the road touring.”

“Have all the girls’ signed these papers?” I asked with uncertainty.

“Yes, all the girls have signed each and every paper -- except for Bobbie, because she is a special case,” Lauren said with a twinkle in her eye. “If you want you can go ask them, or I can call them in. I promise you this, nothing will happen tonight or as a result of tonight that-- you do not agree to -- enter freely and of your own will.”

I grabbed the pen one final time. Sometimes you’ve got to take a leap of faith.

I had a new name, I was a ‘Professional Musician’ -- and I had a recording contract.

Wow !!

I gave Lauren my thanks, and then left the office.
 
 
Walking back toward the living room, I felt kind of numb; the realization of what I just signed slowly sank in.

I had a clever idea; I wouldn’t tell them directly that I had signed on. Instead, I walked in and decided to introduce myself to my fellow band members.

“Hi, I’m Jamie Marie Johnson your new bass player and you are?”

Not surprisingly Hannah got it first and squeaked “You did it!” as she flew over and tackled me in a hug.

She may look like a girl but tackles like Lawrence Taylor. Ooff!

Frankie and Bobbie finally caught a clue and walked over to the two-person car wreck and pulled Hannah off the tackling dummy. Each gave me a hug and a kiss giving their welcomes.

Bobbie laughed. “I told you -- you aren’t alone.”

Today has been the biggest in my life. And tomorrow, I get to tell Mom the whole story.

Oh shit!
 
To Be Continued...

Comments are greatly appreciated

Sometimes being a musician is not enough
and one must rise up to the challenge to play to a different tune.

And The Bass Player Gets The Girl Part 4 - A New Home? By TGJaime Copyright© 2007 TGJaime All Rights Reserved. Special Thanks to Angela Rasch for her continued Help, Guidance and Masterful Editing. ~TGJaime

---

 
Author's Notes: Sorry it has taken me so long to get this out. My real life has been utterly insane. I am almost finished with my 2nd back to back tour (Hopefully last) in Afghanland and very happy for it. If SOMEONE, ANYONE would like to pick up the story and continue it, well that would be wonderful. ~TGJaime
 
 
Part 4 - A New Home?
 
Lauren appeared from her office saying something about it being late and that she was going to bed. Good nights were offered from all as she walked away I assumed towards her bedroom. The four of us were all sitting in the living room winding down or at least I was. I had been up since early in the morning for school; thank the gods for long weekends! I had so many more questions I wanted answers for I didn’t know where to start.

I kept coming back to one theme. What do I tell my Mom? I knew about Bobbie and Hannah so I directed my question to Frankie.

“Frankie, if you don’t mind my asking, what have you told you parents?”

“I told Mom and Dad that I was following my dreams, they know I wanted more than anything to play music.”

“I like that!” I said smiling.

“I'm not going to lie to you and say that this has been a cake walk. Im the only boy in the family right in the middle. I have two sisters at home so it was always interesting with them. I was at all times surrounded by love. When I told them that I wanted to be a girl like my sisters Mom and Dad, well they laughed. They thought it was a joke. When they were done laughing I excused myself and went upstairs to my room.”

You could see in Frankie’s eyes that she was reliving this day.

“An hour later I came back downstairs dressed in one of my nicest outfits. I was wearing a chambray skirt and a white silk sleeveless blouse. I had my hair in a high pony tail and my makeup was tastefully done. I stood in front of the TV blocking Monday Night Football. To Dad this was a serious offense, Dad wasn’t impressed with my impression of a door, he said, “Move Janet!” He thought I was my older sister.
I told him no, not till he got the name right.
Finally he looked at me. I could see when the recognition hit. He did a great imitation of a fish out of water with his mouth opening and closing.”

She imitated him a few times to our amusement.

“Now do you believe me?” I asked than went to find Mom.

Mom was in the kitchen finishing up the dinner dishes when I walked in she just looked and told me to start drying the dishes. So I did, I could tell when she realized who I was when the glass shattered on the floor. The first thing she said to me was “Those aren’t your sisters are they?” It was a question and a declaration all at the same time. I got Moms attention centered on me I told her “no, there mine.”

I suggested we go in and talk with Dad. For the first time in my life Dad was speechless.

I started out asking them if they believed me now. I wasn’t trying to be a smart-ass but it sorta came out that way.
Mom was the one that surprised me, she actually complimented me telling me I looked just like my sisters. I thought that was cool.

I figured I was in for a screaming match. I don’t handle confrontations well, I just clam up so this was a very unexpected surprise.

“Of course Mom thought the only reason a guy would wear a dress was that they were gay.” At that comment Bobbie and Hannah nodded there heads in agreement. “I went on to explain that I was gay, I was happy being dressed this way. They didn’t think my humor was appropriate.”

I just opened up to them; I told them how I always felt I should have been a girl. I pointed out that my best friends were my sisters and other girls I knew. I asked them to name a single boy that was my friend, when they couldn’t I continued to explain how jealous I was of my sisters and girls in general. I wanted to be just like them. We talked and they actually listened to what I had to say. It was very difficult conversation but I had had enough hiding the real me.

This was October last year I was still going to school, I was 17 living at home so I still felt there thumb at every turn. When Dad finally opened his mouth, it was intelligent but narrow minded. He was talking about how I would be cured and they would get the best doctors for me etc...
I knew he was saying the things he did out of love for his son but he just didn’t understand. Mom finally had to tell him to shush.

The greatest thing they did insist on was that I did need to see a shrink. I say it’s great because that’s how I met Lauren. I was seeing Dr Michaels for about three months before I knew about her having anything to do with music. I talked, she listened, she asked, I answered. She would always have music playing softly in the background in her office so it was always very relaxing to me.

We talked about everything, dressing, feeling like a girl, where I felt my place in the world was and society’s views on what I was doing, was I gay, was I a repressed lesbian?

Like I said everything.

One afternoon she asked me about my musical ambitions. I told her that I had been classically trained as a concert pianist and I wanted to continue playing but was afraid how I would be accepted. Lauren asked me if I ever wanted to play rock music. I wasn’t overly excited by the thought since there were very few bands I thought used a keyboardist effectively.”

As a bass player I had never thought about it, but I realized she was right.

“Seriously think about it, there is only one Rick Wakeman or Keith Emerson. What other keyboardist do you remember if any, Liberace? That’s not what I had in mind. Don’t get me wrong, he is an incredibly talented musician and I greatly admire his playing abilities but I don’t want to be that flamboyant in my lifestyle, I just want to blend in and be who I am inside and out. To me that means being female and a musician.

Since I had been seeing Lauren, my Parents were getting updates and what my diagnosis was and if there was a treatment plan that would as Dad put it “repair me” Dr Michaels filled them in that yes there was a treatment that would work. Allow me to be female and to see an endocrinologist right away to start me on a hormone regiment to stop the testosterone poisoning of my body. Dad walked out of her office and Mom and I were left to finalize the arrangements. I never wanted to hurt Mom or Dad but I have to be myself.”

I could feel my eyes watering along with Frankie’s at the last comment. I reached over and touched her hand in quiet support.

“Mom and I are doing fine now. Dad tried to make Mom stay away from me but we go out to lunch once a week now, my sisters love having a new sister and they all say that I've become easier to shop for. Dad on the other hand hasn’t said two civil words to me since I came out. I hope someday that he will come around and see the good that has come from this. I don’t pretend that this is the be all and end all especially when it concerns Dad, but being selfish I'm happy so I guess that’s something.”
 
 
I gave her had a pat and some Kleenex, she needed. Hannah already had raccoon eyes from earlier so there was no making it worse for her.

“What I didn’t realize was that along with my counseling Lauren was recruiting me for this band” Frankie said with a grin “After I went to the endo and was on the hormones for a few months the conversations turned to my career again and she asked me to bring in some tapes of me playing. She thought I was very good and had a lot of talent than she again asked if I wanted to try rock. She played a song and asked what I thought. It was “Whisper” that she played and I told her I thought I could play with something like that. A few weeks later I was introduced to Bobbie and Hannah and was asked if I wanted join. That was lets see, March sometime. Once I moved in here things became so much easier. I didn’t have to try to be some macho clod for Dad. I was able to be Frankie full time. Bobbie and Lauren are incredible role models to all of us. I was extremely nervous at first; they would drag me out all the time it seemed.”

“Just like were gonna do with you Jamie,” Hannah said snickering.

I looked at her and I could tell she wasn’t joking. I have never been out of the house dressed.

The thought terrified me, I guess I should have thought about that lil gem !

I looked over at Bobbie and Frankie and I saw the amused expressions. Hannah being the resident smart ass that she is ‘didn’t think of that did ya!?” Like I said smartass!

“Well I was kinda hoping to get used to it a little before venturing out like that.”

“Oh don’t worry” Bobbie said, “we’ll help you out the first few times just like we do with all the new girls.” She said as she was looking at Hannah. Hannah was doing what id seen girls do a million times when embarrassed. The patented teenage girls duck and cover. Hiding her face behind a wall of hair so you couldn’t see the blush forming.

“Ok Hannah, spill the beans what am I in for?” I asked with a chuckle. Oh nothing different than a normal teenage girl really, getting your hair done, ears pierced, nails done”

“No nails done, I play with my fingers not a pick you know that,” I stated rather sternly “and what have you been doing all these years with you pinkie? Sticking it in an ink jar? Hannah interrupted right back.

“Oh … yeah, I see your point; I was thinking those fake nails or something ridiculous like that. I can’t play with those.” Hannah didn’t say anything, she just held up her paws to show me what she was talking about, I looked over at Bobbie and Frankie they were doing the same. Oh…

“Now back to what I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted” Hannah chuckled”uuummm lets see, hair, nails, ears, waxing, a makeover so we know what the best colors for you are, not your Moms ill tell you that! Oh and the best thing Clothes Shopping”

All the girls started bouncing in there seats in the preparatory excitement for the shopping to come. “Don’t worry, you will get some nice clothes, some clothes to lounge around in, play clothes, stage outfits, a bikini what else girls?”

“I got to see something first” said Frankie “lift up your blouse Jamie” when I did “oh yeah your getting one” “Wait, what am I getting” asked me a little nervously.

“Your belly pierced” said all the other girls in unison. “Frankie is huge on piercings, you better watch it, and she’ll have you pierced in all sorts of places if you aren’t careful. Hannah said

I was intrigued and more than a little scared once again.

“Let me see your piercings than” I challenged.

Bad move, Frankie pulled off her t-shirt and than her bra showing me what she had. I'm glad I was sitting down because she had a nice pair, I mean both nipples pierced with hoops and a chain running from each forming a ‘Y’ than to a belly, no, make that two belly rings. I was scared to ask what else she had pierced.

I was speechless; I’m staring at girls’ breasts, damn B+ cups at least! Really looking at them and she says in a very nonchalant tone, “Don’t worry, you’ll have your own soon enough”

~splash~ I could feel the cold water running right down my back bringing me back to reality. I could feel it. I knew it was there.

“What do you say to that?” Nothing was coming to mind so I just sat there, smiled and blushed some more.

“OK who else has one?” Hannah and Bobbie both lifted their blouses showing off there bellies.

“What about Dawn, does she have hers done?” I think the look I was getting had a sub title saying ‘Dumb ass, of course she does!’

“OK so when can I get mine done?”

Frankie was out of her seat like a shot. “You shouldn’t have asked that Jamie,” Hannah informed me a moment later. Before I could retort with anything, Frankie was back with, well, I guess a tool box would adequately describe it.

“OK Jamie, over here on the couch.”

“Wow, now hold on a second, I said I would get one, I didn’t mean right this second”

“What, are you chicken? All the girls have one are you scared?” Taunted Frankie

“Fine, just my belly though, nothing else!”
 
 
I lay on the couch not wanting to look but Frankie was describing EVERYTHING she was doing. I caught myself watching in morbid fascination as she cleaned my belly button area and marked the spot. She took out a small set of forceps and cleaned them. I gasped when I saw the size of the needle it was huge. Than she asked me what type of jewelry I wanted.

I didn’t know there were different styles, she explained them but recommended a small hoop till it was healed. I just said to go with your best judgment.

Next thing I knew she was placing the forceps and squeezed them shut OUCH! That hurts. I felt a small pinch and a push then looked and there was a hole and just a little red spot from the blood that she was placing the ring through.

It was over. I had a pierced belly.
 
 
“That wasn’t so bad” I exclaimed “oh so you’re ready for some more while I have everything out?”

What I couldn’t believe was that I was seriously thinking about it.

Bobbie chimed in with if your going to get you nipples done it is better to get them done now before you start the hormones. Since dumb looks are still free I gave her one. She went onto explain that because of the hormones my nipples would be exponentially more sensitive later on.

Oh she’s trying to look out for me.

Believe me, I know, she said sardonically. Than she started taking her blouse off to show me.

I couldn’t believe it; here I was with 2 girls, topless and I going to be one of the girls. Life is so unfair!
 
 
“Jamie!”

Hannah just about yelled to get me out of my thoughts, don’t worry about it, you will get used to see us all naked, trust me on this. We all live upstairs in a dormer, all in the same room get it? None of us are saints either” as she looked over at Bobbie with a smile.

“Do you want something else done?” Frankie inquired quietly.

“Uuuummm can I wait a lil while please?”

“Sure, she said, “you know where I live.”

Now that all this excitement is done, does anyone have an idea what time it is?
 
 
I was informed it was almost three AM, time for bed we all agreed. I followed the girls upstairs to the room. It looked to be the whole upstairs. Bobbie went on to explain that Mom had her room downstairs on the other side of the house away from the nuts, meaning us. Every girl had a standup wardrobe closet and a dresser, makeup table and a full sized bed. Five sets of everything. Like I said it was a big bedroom. I was shown my sleeping area and where the bathroom was.

The girls were getting ready for bed, changing into their nightgowns and washing up.

I was slightly apprehensive about getting undressed in front of them and sat there on “my bed.”
Frankie came over carrying something and handed me a beautiful long silky night gown a twin to her own in a shimmering red fabric.

“You can borrow one of mine till you get your own” she said with a shy grin.

I thanked her and placed it beside me.

“What’s wrong?” “Oh uummm nothings really wrong, im just sitting here thinking about everything that has happened today. Its been one hell of a day!”

Frankie just stood there unsure of what to do.

“Here let me help you.” She started pulling my blouse over my head and I just sat there, no big deal, I've seen her tits tonight. I just don’t have anything there. I was kind of embarrassed by that I realized.

I slipped the gown on and it felt incredible, “I've never worn anything so wondrous Frankie” she grinned “Its my favorite, I love the way it feels on my skin, don’t you?” I nodded my head in affirmation. I stood up to unbutton but had to sit back down to take my jeans off, Frankie grabbed the legs and had to help, they were that tight. When she got them off she saw my hidden secret. I was wearing a white satin thong from Victoria’s. “Oh those are pretty” I turned fifty shades of red in my embarrassment.

“Why are you embarrassed? We all have them.” Then it hit her.

“No one has ever seen you in them before have they?”

I couldn’t say anything I just shook my head no. I was on the verge of tears I was so wound up. Finally I could speak and in a whisper I told her “I’ve been wearing panties for years. I would only wear guys underwear on days I had gym or swim team practice. Right now Frankie it’s like my fantasy and my nightmares are all converging, coming true at the same time” I didn’t know how to deal with it. Frankie, bless her heart grabbed hold of my hand and escorted me to the bathroom and told me to take care of business and that she would be waiting.

I finally got a good look at myself. The nightgown was incredible, it looked like a cross between an evening gown and a nightie it exuded pure sex appeal. I realized that I looked amazing also, my long blonde hair cascading around my shoulders in contrast to the gowns red. Frankie broke my reverie by calling thru the door to check if I was alright. I finished my ablutions washed and exited the room. Frankie took my hand again and walked me over to the bed. She folded the sheets back “get in” and I did than she tucked me in like a little…….. well, something. I asked her in my best little girl voice “could you read me a story Mommy?” She laughed and wished me good night than she did something totally unexpected. She walked around to the other side of the bed and crawled in.

“I figured you might want some company after all you’ve gone thru today” I was gob smacked. I just laid there and she told me to roll over and than cuddled right up next to me. I could feel her breath on my neck; it was very erotic and highly intoxicating. I was getting excited when I heard this voice chuckling from behind me “I don’t fool around on first dates” and she slid her hand down and squeezed my growing erection, I just moaned. Evidently I moaned louder than I thought because the next thing I heard was “go to sleep you sluts” and a giggle from the peanut gallery. Eventually I managed to fall asleep.
 
 
I awoke confused; I felt a leg and an arm wrapped around me. I turned my head and saw Frankie staring at me from inches away.

“Morning sweetie, do you know how beautiful you are when you sleep?”

“I've never slept with anyone else except Harry before, this is much nicer” I said as I pulled her over closer for a good cuddle. I guess we fell back asleep because the next thing I knew the covers were ripped off the bed and there was a giggling Hannah with Bobbie right behind her.

“You guys looked so cute it was sickening! When are you getting married?” The others chimed in with.

I didn’t care I was all warm and fuzzy from great sleep. Frankie started rousing from her slumber also and finally got out of bed. I guess its wake up time.

I guess being a girl doesn’t change my morning ritual…. What am I thinking? I'm not a girl, at least not yet…. These girls are addictive, one day and I’m thinking like them… Oh my!

Breakfast cleaned up, kibitzing around done, now comes the hardest part…….

“Hello, Mom? Are you going to be home later? I need to talk to you.”
 
To Be Continued?

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Admin Note: This story stands as incomplete. It is a very good writing style and I would love to see this author finish it. I have not seen nor heard anything from TGJaime since 2010. I am asking our community if anyone knows if TGJaime is still alive? I ask because the author was in two consecutive military deployments, and since then - nothing. If you find anything about TGJaime, please contact me! ~Sephrena
 

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