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Flashback - 2 years ago…
Ruth took an unsteady breath as she waited, trying to calm her nerves. Her palms were slick with sweat. She prayed it wouldn’t have an effect on her performance. She released her guitar, letting it hang on her shoulders as she wiped her hands on her jeans. There were other kids milling about, chatting with each other or practicing whatever they would be presenting. Doubts clouded her mind. She shouldn’t be here. She should have pulled out when she had a chance. It was too late now, her name would be called in mere minutes.
A small group of girls walked past her, whispering as they looked at the girl with the messy blonde hair with a streak of blue in it, holding her electric guitar. Ruth clenched her teeth, releasing a puff of air through her nose in annoyance.
“Please welcome Ruth Weils to the stage!” Suddenly her heart was in her throat. She swallowed, wiping her hands one more on her thighs before she gripped the guitar. Slowly, she got up from the floor and made her way to the stage. There were a few people clapping politely. She didn’t expect the lights to shine so brightly in her eyes, causing her to not see anything in front of her.
The emcee made his way off the stage leaving her alone in front of hundreds of people crammed in the high school auditorium. Ruth looked at the stool and microphone in the middle of the stage. She walked in front of it, bent down to take the audio cord on the floor, and plugged her guitar into the speaker system with a click. A familiar buzz came through the speakers for a moment. She ignored the stool, instead standing between it and the microphone. She thought she heard a few negative remarks and jeers coming from the front seats. Ignoring them, Ruth took one last breath before she started playing.
In complete contrast to how she was trying to breathe, her right hand attacked the strings. The music blasted from the speakers suddenly as the beginning of Joan Jett’s “Bad Reputation” sounded.
I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation
Ruth sang loudly into the microphone as she played the fast-paced song.
You're living in the past, it's a new generation
Her hand strummed furiously as she alternated between blasting the electric guitar and shout-singing the lyrics to the punk rock song.
A girl can do what she wants to do and that's what I'm gonna do
An' I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation
Oh no, not me
At this point she felt confident. The nerves of before were fading away.
An' I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation
Never said I wanted to improve my station
An' I'm only doin' good when I'm havin' fun
An' I don't have to please no one
An' I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation
Oh no, not me, oh no, not me
The blonde couldn’t help but move with the music. Even though she couldn’t really see the audience, she could feel their energy.
I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation
I've never been afraid of any deviation
An' I don't really care if you think I'm strange
I ain't gonna change
An' I'm never gonna care 'bout my bad reputation
Oh no, not me, oh no, not me
Pedal, boys!
An' I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation
The world's in trouble, there's no communication
An' everyone can say what they wanna to say
It never gets better, anyway
So why should I care about a bad reputation anyway?
Oh no, not me, oh no, not me
I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation
You're living in the past, it's a new generation
An' I only feel good when I got no pain
An' that's how I'm gonna stay
An' I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation
Oh no, not me, oh no, not me
Not me, not me
When the song finished, loud applause bathed over Ruth. She took a bow and hurried off-stage. Adrenaline coursed through her as if the cheers gave her life. She didn’t expect such a reaction since some of her classmates often teased her. Who was she kidding, there were very few that didn’t tease her, or give her rude stares as she walked down the hall dressed in her outrageously colorful outfits. She was a loner, but at least she felt confident in who she was.
Ruth reached the guitar case. She crouched down, opening it so she could carefully put the instrument away.
Suddenly she watched as a shadow on the floor approached until she felt the presence right above her. “Do you?” Ruth didn’t answer the out-of-the-blue question. Instead, she continued to pack up the guitar in its case. “Yo, girl, I’m talking to you. Do you have a bad reputation or not?”
The blonde maintained her silence, standing up to slowly face the owner of the voice. Her brown eyes observed the speaker. The first thing she noticed were her eyes. They were a very light green with a bluish hue and at the center her pupil was ringed with a subtle brown. A few ringlets of dark hair framed those eyes, which Ruth found herself following upwards. Instead of the neat curls she expected, she saw a mess on top of that head filled with the odd brightly colored hair clip jumbled in it.
“Uhh.” Ruth didn’t even realize she let a sound slip until the girl crinkled her nose.
“Say it. Really. Tell me I look like a fucking nightmare circus clown.” Ruth’s eyes continued to take in the human in front of her. She wore a blue jean jacket with the sleeves cuffed. Under that was a brightly colored lime green shirt. Ruth’s eyes continued their path down. A vinyl yellow form-fitting skirt clashed slightly with the green, but not as badly as it clashed with the magenta and black striped leggings. On her feet were a pair of Barbie pink strappy high heels.
“Are you?” Ruth’s voice came out slowly and seriously.
The girl’s eyebrow quirked up. “Could be. Is that a problem?”
Ruth shook her head no. “I’m Ruth. Ruth Weils. And I think we both may be circus clowns.” Ruth grabbed her jacket from the floor. It had so many colors there was no way you could pick out one among the rest. One sleeve was pink, the other blue, with black, red, white and green plastered in multiple different sized block shapes.
A wide smile crept on her face. “Ruth weiler! Like the dog, you know?” The girl laughed at her own joke. “I’m Alicia.” Alicia sucked in a breath of air. “So, I heard you play. The singing wasn’t great, but at least you picked a song that wasn’t really melodic.”
Ruth frowned. “Um, thanks for the feedback, I guess?”
Alicia waved a hand, dismissing it. “You need a singer. And lucky for you…” she pointed at herself, “I’m willing to take you on.”
Ruth gave her another once-over. “I don’t know, are you always this blunt?”
“Yes.” Alicia replied immediately. As hard as Ruth tried to prevent it, she couldn’t help her mouth from forming a tiny smile. “I’m taking that as a yes. Great!” Alicia grabbed Ruth’s hand, shaking it vigorously.
Ruth opened her mouth, then shut it. Ruth was the type of person who observed, only contributing anything if it was necessary. Even then she made sure to keep her comments short and succinct without wasting any words. From what it seemed, Alicia was in your face blunt, not caring what words came out of her mouth. For as quiet as Ruth was, it seemed Alicia was the exact opposite.
One year later …
“Ruuuuth, I have something for you.” Ruth looked up from her place on the couch, but Alicia had already ducked into the next room. She returned a moment later with a wrapped gift.
The blonde did her best to suppress a laugh, but ultimately failed. “Let me guess. A new guitar?” The package was wrapped, this was true, but it was in the form of a guitar, not hiding the shape at all.
“Fuck, girl you’re no fun.” Alicia handed it over.
“I’m fun and you know it.” She gave the other girl a wink. “Okay, you could have kept it in the box at least.” She tore the paper off, her eyes lighting up immediately as she saw the sea foam green colored electric guitar. “NO WAY!” She jumped up on the couch, playing a couple chords before jumping off. She gave Alicia a strong kiss.
Alicia grinned through the kiss. She loved seeing her girlfriend get excited. “I would have put it in a box, but I found it at a garage sale. Happy one year since you met me.” Alicia gave Ruth a kiss on both of her cheeks.
“Damn, I didn’t get you anything, Ali.” Ruth slumped down on the couch. She set the new guitar next to her. Alicia sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
“You don’t have to. I mean, I’ll probably cry for a few minutes later, but I’ll get over it.”
Ruth pushed her away, “Man, why do you tell me these things?” Alicia had a wide smile on her face.
“Admit it, you like it when I say what I mean. Just like when I say there’s something you can give me that costs nothing…” She raised her eyebrow suggestively.
“You want me to fuck you after you cry because I didn’t give you anything?”
Alicia shrugged. “What better way to cheer me up?”
Ruth shook her head, rolling her eyes. “You’re impossible.”
Alicia stuck her tongue out in response. “Hey, I played our demo to that guy your friend told us about.” Brown eyes looked at Alicia, waiting only a heartbeat for her to continue. “He said it was, and I quote, ‘too rock ‘n roll and not enough pep’. Like, who does this guy think he is?? God of music?”
“Or a music producer that has already signed two nationally recognized bands.” Ruth replied simply.
“Yeah. Well whatever. So we have to come up with a new song.” Alicia kissed Ruth, getting up from the couch. As she was walking away, she turned her head back. “Put your thinking cap on, Ruth weiler, and let’s shoot ourselves to stardom.”
The corners of Ruth’s mouth twitched as she did her best to look exasperated. She pretended to hate the nickname that was created at the beginning of their friendship, when in reality she loved it. Alicia disappeared into the kitchen. “You want me to make you something? A sandwich?” Ali’s voice traveled from the next room. “Yeah, I’ll make you a sandwich. Grilled cheese, ‘cause I know you love animals too much to eat ‘em!”
Ruth heard Alicia preparing lunch for the two of them. She got up, taking her old guitar from its stand in the corner of the living room. She traced the body of the shiny black guitar that she’d had for years until she reached the hook for the strap. With a small sigh she unhooked it, removing it from the instrument. She held it in her hands as she remembered the night she had gotten it.
Flashback - Ruth age ten…
Ruth’s parents were both musical. Her dad, Roger, played in a death metal band called ‘The Raging Onion’ and her mother Carol was a drummer who stopped playing when she became pregnant. They bought her a ¾ sized guitar at age five. Ruth was a natural, causing her parents to enroll her in lessons with a private tutor. Her parents started fighting shortly after: about the band, about money, about her. When the turmoil between her parents was starting to bubble over, Roger bought an electric guitar with the bonus of driving his wife crazy.
On the night she got the guitar strap, it was quite stormy. She must have been no more than ten years old. Carol was called into work, so she was staying with her dad. Her parents had divorced the year before. It was long enough to have gotten into somewhat of a routine, but short enough where both of her parents were trying to buy her affection in any way they could. Her dad’s band was playing in a small bar, but due to the circumstances he had no choice but to take his daughter for the night. The band ended the set early in order to accommodate Ruth, who shouldn’t be out past midnight.
Ruth remembered sitting in the back seat of the car, sandwiched between speakers from the gig. Roger was bent under the hood of the little red Toyota, cursing as the rain poured down. Ruth was silently watching one droplet run down the window, sliding into another, which picked up speed and continued down until the drops were just one more streak of water on the window.
Her concentration broke as she heard the car door slam. “Fuck. God fucking dammit.” Roger pounded on the steering wheel. “Of all the fucking days, the car breaks down now.” He suddenly looked in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry, Ruth. Don’t ever swear like daddy does, okay?”
She wanted to nod her head, but it seemed like all adults swore so she didn’t want to rule it out for herself. When her dad didn’t get a response, he sighed. “We’re going to have to walk home, okay?” He got out of the car, opened her door, and held her hand as she carefully maneuvered around the speaker.
Once out of the relative warmth of the car, the rain didn’t take long to drench her blonde hair, plastering it to her face. It seemed like ages as Ruth and Roger walked side by side in the rain. Suddenly there was a flash of lightning, followed by a loud crack of thunder. The abruptness caused Ruth to squeeze her dad’s hand in a death grip. The man smiled at Ruth, bending down to pick her up as if she were a small three year old. His eyes scanned the buildings along the side of the street. Most were dark, closed for the night, but he saw one with lights shining brightly. Ruth burrowed her head in his neck as he carried her, the small body tensing at each crash of thunder.
“Oh my god, you’re shitting me!” Roger set Ruth down as they approached the building. “Check it out Ruthie, it’s a fucking music store.” Eagerly he opened the door, letting Ruth run under his arm to get out of the cold rain. A jingle of a bell announced their presence, and the shopkeeper appeared seemingly from out of nowhere.
He was a thin man with long gray hair, which matched a gray beard. A small pair of glasses with round frames sat on his nose. Ruth regarded him carefully, until another clap of thunder made her cover her eyes with her hands. The older man chuckled at the girl’s reaction. “You don’t like the concert, eh?”
She separated her fingers just enough to peek at him with one eye. “What concert?” She couldn’t see how her dad gaped at her because she was so focused on the stranger. Ruth had talked less and less the last few years, to the point where she never spoke to strangers, hardly spoke at school, and spoke minimally to her parents. Case in point, she hadn’t said a word all night until then.
He put one knee on the floor, resting an arm on his other knee as he lowered himself to her height. His hands splayed out, “Why, all the greats, my dear. Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain, Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, Buddy Holly… This is theirs. Their rock concert from beyond, because musicians, well, they never stop playing.” His eyes were a piercing blue color, but held warmth.
Ruth stared at him. A couple names she heard before, but one stood out. “Janis Joplin? A girl?” He nodded. “Do you think I could play up there one day?”
“Oh? Do you play something?” He raised an eyebrow curiously as he took a better look at her, maybe trying to judge her age. She nodded. “Well, I hope it will be many years before you’re playing on that stage.” He jerked his eyes upward before they rested on her once more. “What do you play, hm?” Ruth chewed on her lip. Her eyes flicked around the shop, landing on the guitar section. The older man’s eyes followed her line of sight. “Ahh, the guitar. Classic instrument.”
“Electric guitar,” Ruth’s father jumped into the conversation.
The shopkeeper returned his gaze to the girl, showing obvious surprise. “Really? Hm. That’s not what I expected. Come with me.” He held his hand out, but Ruth ignored it, trailing slightly behind him as he led her into the section. “I’ve got just the thing for you. Let’s see…” The man bent down next to a bin filled with plastic bags holding various guitar accessories: picks, straps, cords, wax. He dug around, retrieving a bag with a guitar strap. “Here we are.” He ripped the plastic wrapping off, taking the nylon fabric from the package. He spent a moment adjusting the strap to the smallest size before he stood up. He then took one of the smaller guitars off the wall. Expertly he looped the strap on the guitar, holding it out for Ruth to put on.
She slid the instrument over her head, holding it gingerly in her hands. Ruth couldn’t help but play a few chords. “There. How does that fit?” Ruth shrugged. She finally noticed the yellow lightning bolts that adorned the black strap. “It looks good on you.” He held his hands out to take the guitar back. He removed the strap, holding it out to her. “Here. It’s yours. That way you’ll always think of Janis Joplin playing up in the clouds for you.”
End of Flashback
“Hey, did you hear me?” Alicia came into the living room holding two plates with grilled cheese and tomato soup. Ruth shook her head. “I said that was Francesco, he needs me to fill in for a few days for a couple out of town gigs. Stacy came down with laryngitis.”
Ruth took her plate, sat on the couch, and put the guitar strap next to her. She put her plate on the table to look at Alicia. “Okay. When do you leave?”
Alicia pouted. “Tonight. But I already told him that we had a pending fuck and I refuse to leave before.”
Ruth bit back a smile, instead leaning in to kiss her softly. “I love when you scare people with your take no shit personality. What did he say?”
“Take your time.” She grinned. Ruth lifted her eyebrows mischievously.
“Well in that case, we don’t have much time, hm?” The blonde kissed her again, taking the plate and setting it on the table next to hers.
“Mm, you’re right. Let’s go to the bedroom.”
Later that evening …
“I wish I didn’t have to go.” Alicia whined as they stood in the entryway.
Ruth let out a breath. “Me too. Think of it this way, we can work on that new song. Maybe being apart we can write our own song, then pick out the good parts.”
Alicia kissed her forehead. “Perfect. I love that idea.” They both heard a horn honking outside. “Guess it’s time.”
Ruth nodded. They gave each other a strong hug and one last lingering kiss. “I love you, Ali. Be safe, okay?”
***
The days and nights passed, each girl writing what they could in their free time. Ruth worked and reworked guitar chords. The song had to be peppy. Pop music.
“It’s so hard to make pop music,” she muttered to herself as she crossed out yet another lyric. “When you make pop.” She tapped the pencil on her pad of paper, thinking of Alicia. She continued tapping the pencil until it turned into a beat. “When you make pop …” A lightbulb went off in her head. With a grin she started scribbling furiously. Ruth stayed up into the night, eventually falling asleep on the couch.
The keys in the door woke Ruth up the following day. “Unnng,” she groaned in pain from sleeping on the couch.
“Morning! I can’t wait to show you what I came up with!” Alicia’s perky voice sounded in Ruth’s ears.
“Me too, Ali. I stayed up half the night.” Ruth yawned as she finally blinked her eyes open. Alicia was already bouncing over to her for a good morning/welcome home kiss.
The two spent the day comparing notes, melding their two versions together until both of them were happy with the outcome.
The following week they met with the music producer, who was much happier with the music this time. “Girls, I think you’ve got something here. Let’s start booking a studio. Do you know any drummers? I think it’s missing some drums.”
Nine months later …
“Ali!!! You’ll never believe what came!!!” Ruth ran from the living room into the bedroom, where Alicia was getting ready to go out. She waved a piece of paper in her face. Alicia took it, but before she read a word, Ruth blurted out the contents. “It’s a festival. In Benidorm. The Desert Sound Festival. It’s in three months. We just have to call that number to confirm if we can attend!”
Alicia jumped up and down in excitement, grabbing ahold of Ruth. “Oh my god! It’s happening!” The two grinned at each other. Alicia grabbed her phone to confirm right away.
Three months later …
“Ruth weiler! I just got off the phone with Radio3 and they said they’re going to play our song before the festi!” The two squealed, hugging each other with excitement. “It’s going to play at 7pm Friday on a show called The Basement. Can you believe we’re only two days away from performing in front of thousands?”
Ruth sighed. “It’s going to be perfect. Listen, I’ve already set up the ride share and put a packing list together. I’ll add a weather radio to it so we can be absolutely sure we can tune into the station. Oh my god, do you realize that before we play for thousands we will be playing for millions on the radio?” The realization set in for both of them.
Two days later … - Present Day
The car honked impatiently as the two made sure they had everything. They would be riding with three other festival-goers they were connected with through a rideshare program. No one had met each other in person, but gas would be split five ways which sounded good to everyone.
The duo known as Las Hermanitas de la Calidad consisting of Ruth and Alicia packed their things, which wasn’t much, into the trunk of the car and climbed in.
Cuando Haces Pop
When You Do Pop
Look at me
Mírame
I’m like this because of you
Estoy así por ti
Listen to me I'm talking to you
Escúchame te estoy hablando a ti
I'm sick
Ya estoy harta
Of never seeing your face
De no verte nunca la cara
I still haven't seen you all week
Todavía no te he visto en toda la semana
It's dangerous to fall in love if you do pop
Es un peligro enamorarte si haces pop
It's so hard to coincide when you do pop
Es tan difícil coincidir cuando haces pop
It's so difficult to do pop
Es tan difícil hacer pop
Pa-pa, pa-ra, pa-ra-pa
Pa-pa, pa-ra, pa-ra-pa
Pa-pa, pa-ra, pa-ra-pa
Pa-pa, pa-ra, pa-ra-pa
Pa-pa, pa-ra, pa-ra-pa
Pa-pa, pa-ra, pa-ra-pa
Pa-pa, pa-ra, pa-ra-pa
Pa-pa, pa-ra, pa-ra-pa
I always wear
Llevo siempre
Your shirt while doing interviews
Tu camisa cuando me entrevistan
It’s not nice
No es bonita
But I do it cause I like you
Pero lo hago porque tú me gustas
It's dangerous to fall in love if you do pop
Es un peligro enamorarte si haces pop
It's so hard to coincide when you do pop
Es tan difícil coincidir cuando haces pop
It's so difficult to do pop
Es tan difícil hacer pop
I'm going to write you in my notebook
Voy a escribirte en mi cuaderno
These chords are so complex
Estos acordes tan complejos
I know you are not as cool as me
Ya sé que no eres tan moderno como yo
But this song is about us both
Pero esta letra va sobre nosotros dos
Like a shot, goes straight to the heart
Como un disparo irá directa al corazón
It's so difficult to do pop
Es tan difícil hacer pop
when you do pop
Cuando haces pop
when you do pop
Cuando haces pop
when you do pop
Cuando haces pop
when you do pop
Cuando haces pop
when you do pop
Cuando haces pop
when you do pop
Cuando haces pop