The Dark Side of Eleanor Warwick

Another dive bar, Jessie thinks. Super.

The place is bigger than her former employer, Mickey’s Tavern, but it’s too familiar for her tastes. It’s darker than it needs to be and smoke hangs in the air. As she walks in, the ripping sound as her feet come off the sticky floor makes her skin crawl.

A small stage was set up with a drum set on top. Large speakers flank the platform. Whining feedback wails as someone performs sound checks. More people turned up than Jessie would have guessed. She weaves through the crowd of groupies and drunks. Marvin sits at a round table, glancing around expectantly.

A frown hangs on Jessie’s face. He isn’t sure she’s going to show. She needs to nip this in the bud right away. Marvin perks up when he sees her, a smile spreading across his face. He jumps up and pulls a chair out for her. “Hey!” he shouts to be heard over the noise. “I’m glad you came!”

“I told you I would!”

“I know! I’m just glad!”

“Listen, Towles, we need to talk!”

“Check it out!” He offers her a bumper sticker, seemingly oblivious to her statement.

She takes the sticker and looks it over. “Sidewinder?”

“That’s the name of our band!”

“Well, I don’t have a car!”

“Put it on the Hornet!”

“I don’t know! Warwick would lose her- !” Jessie smirks. “Yeah, okay!”

“What were you saying? We need what?”

“We need to- !”

A tall man with heavily moussed hair interrupts. He throws an arm around Marvin’s neck. His open, long-sleeved shirt reveals a well-defined body beneath. “It’s Middle-age Marv!” the man shouts. “You still trying to play rock star?”

“Hey, Nick,” Towles grumbles, his voice barely audible over the noise.

Nick glances around. “You know, Marv, you might be the oldest person in here! Don’t worry though. I’m sure at least some of these people will enjoy watching a fat, old guy playing 40-year-old songs on some kind of ironic level!”

Jessie’s nostrils flare. “Who the fuck are you?”

He looks her in the face, then lets his eyes roam before returning them. “Hi, there, baby! The name’s Nick! Nick Nova!”

“Nick Nova? What kind of dumbass name is that?”

Nick smiles as he steps toward her. “The name of a superstar! I’m the lead singer of Nova, the headliner tonight!”

“La-de-fuckin’-da!”

“Aw, come on, baby!” Nick places a hand on Jessie’s hip. “There’s no reason to be a bitch!”

Marvin starts to step forward but hesitates. Defending his girlfriend would be an obvious decision usually, but Jessie has made two things very clear: She’s not his girlfriend, and she is more than capable of taking care of herself. Of course, there’s also a small corner of his mind that knows what’s about to happen and looks forward to Nick Nova getting his.

Jessie coolly looks down at his hand and then back up to his face. “There’s always a reason to be a bitch! Now move your fuckin’ hand!”

Nick chuckles until the hellblood’s eyes narrow and her lip curls into a sneer. “Okay, baby! No need to get violent!” he eventually says, removing his hand.

“Thanks,” Jessie starts in a cold tone, “but there’s always a reason for that, too!”

The hellblood’s tiny fist strikes Nick in the stomach. With a shocked and painful gasp, he folds over and crumbles to the floor. He rolls into the fetal position as Jessie steps over him. Marvin smiles at her as if she had just fulfilled a childhood wish.

“Damn, you are hot right after you hit somebody!” he shouts.

“I get the impression he’s had that coming!”

“You have no idea! What were we talking about?”

“I was saying we- !” Before their talk can go further, the massive speakers awaken. “Goddamn it!” Jessie curses at yet another interruption.

A band comprised entirely of Asian women dressed as schoolgirls takes the stage and cracks into a Japanese language version of “Just a Girl” by No Doubt. Jessie sneers at them. Not only does she hate that song, band, and genre, but the conversation has gone from difficult to impossible.

Marvin nods toward the double doors that lead backstage and offers his hand. She takes it and allows him to guide her through the crowd. When they pass through the doors, the sound is muffled slightly, but still intrusive. “What’s on your mind?” he asks.

Jessie hesitates. She isn’t used to being so vulnerable. Sure, Marvin wants to be with her, but she still feels as though she’s going out on a limb. “Uh…I was thinking- .”

“Marvin!” With another curse, Jessie throws up her hands as a tall, lanky man in a Star Wars t-shirt runs up to them. “Marv, man, we’ve got to get ready. We’re going on earlier than we thought.”

“Okay,” he responds. “Jessie, this is Kyle. Kyle, Jessie.”

Jessie doesn’t care about Kyle. Kyle, on the other hand, gawks at her. He leans down closer to her and sniffs. “You smell of lavender...and death.”

Jessie looks him over with an eyebrow cocked. “Don’t talk to me again.”

Lowering his head, Kyle concedes. “Okay.”

“Eh. That’s talking to me.” Kyle again attempts to respond, but Jessie raises a finger. “Eh.”

Kyle only nods.

“Come meet the guys,” Marvin insists enthusiastically.

Sighing, Jessie follows him to Sidewinders’ modest setup space. She shoots Kyle a glare that prompts him to step away from her. A small alcove just around the corner houses the band’s gear, including Marvin’s Gibson SG. He stands proudly beside her. “Guys, this is Jessie.”

He gestures to his bandmates. “This is Stan, our bass player.”

A dark-haired man with a long beard nods to her.

“And Benny, our keyboardist.”

A skinny fellow with thick glasses looks up and smiles. “What’s up?”

Jessie offers no answer.

“And, of course, you met Kyle, our drummer,” Marvin finishes. “So, that’s the band.” He turns to face her. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Glancing around the room, Jessie frowns in irritation. An audience is the last thing she wants. “We’ll talk about it after.” Without awaiting a response, she turns on her heels and steps back into the hallway.

“Um...okay,” she barely hears Marvin say before the music drowns him out.

“Okay, Marv,” Stan says. “Who is that?”

“Jessie, I just told you.”

“Yeah, but who is she? Don’t even try to tell me you’re hitting that.”

“Hitting that? Who still says that?”

“The broader point,” Benny says, “is that there’s no way you’re with that girl.”

“Why is that so hard to believe?” They all stare at him. “Aside from the obvious.”

“I don’t believe you,” says Kyle. “No one could tame that demon. She walks the shadowed path, a tempest of rage burning inside. The reaper is her only true companion.”

Marvin and the others stare at him. “Jesus Christ, Kyle. Why do you say shit like that?”

“I am only a vessel.”

“Shut up, Kyle.” Marvin looks around the room. “Are you guys messing with me?” When no one says anything, he scowls. “Well, as hard as it is for the entire world to believe, she and I are a couple! We practically live together in her boss’ house and we fuck all the time!”

The space goes quiet. Marvin notices Kyle hanging his head sheepishly. His heart jumps and he turns to find Jessie behind him.

She stares at him, her arms crossed.

“Oh…hey.”

“I came back to tell you something. I meant to do it earlier.”

“Yeah?”

Jessie steps closer, her posture tight and her eyes burning. Marvin swallows hard.

“I wanted to wish you good luck.”

Marvin relaxes a little. Maybe she didn’t hear what he thought she heard.

Suddenly Jessie grabs his Gibson and snaps it over her knee. The strings make a metallic twang as the wood splinters. The band ducks as she violently hurls the broken instrument against the wall.

“Good luck,” she says with a sneer before storming away.

Marvin’s now pretty confident she did hear it. The other band members look at him awkwardly. When Jessie charges back around the corner, they all flinch.

“And Warwick is not my fucking boss!”

“She pays you,” he mutters under his breath.

“Shut the fuck up!”

Marvin holds his hands up in surrender as Jessie exits again. The alcove is silent for a moment before Stan speaks up. “Marv, dude, your girlfriend’s a psycho.”

“Yeah.” Sighing, Marvin’s shoulders slump. “But she’s not my girlfriend.”