The Devil's Tattoo Read online

He let out a laugh and turned up the radio. It was Spiderbait's cover version of Black Betty, a fast and heavy rock song and perfect for driving to. "You little devil," he shouted.

  When the vocals kicked in we sung in unison all the way to Frank's and I felt a lot better. Funny thing about music, it could make you feel better almost always and I found myself hoping deep down, that this band will finally see the start of better things.

  Frank lived in a falling down miner's cottage in Footscray. It backed onto the train line so every thirty minutes we're overwhelmed with a shaking floor and the sound of a suburban train whooshing by. He was excited to see us when he opened the door and helped us bring our gear through the house to a room out the back that has been taped up haphazardly with soundproofing. At one end he has a nice looking drum kit set up and at the other is two old couches, where Chris is already sitting, his bass and portable amp against the wall.

  "Hey, Zoe," he said. "Frank's been telling me how great you are." He nodded at my guitar case.

  "Oh?" I asked, looking at Frank.

  "So I hear," he said with a wink and I knew Dee had been talking me up like I'm Da Vinci.

  "Let's hear, then," Chris chipped in.

  I opened my case and pulled out my guitar while Frank plugged me into an amp.

  "Sweet guitar." Chris is in love.

  "I'm so jealous," Dee winked. "You should see her effects peddles."

  "That sounds like a dirty pick up line," Frank declared, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

  Before I could chicken out, I played the opening bars to Black Rebel Motorcycle Club's Ain't No Easy Way and Chris whistled. "You're tight, Zoe."

  "That's what all the boys say," I winked and he blushed.

  "How long you been playin'?"

  "About two years, give or take," I shrugged, putting the guitar down.

  "Yeah, she's like a prodigy or something." Dee's up to his old tricks.

  "Just had a lot of time on my hands and I got into it." It's the truth.

  "That's a tough song," Frank handed me a cider. "I dunno anyone who'd be able to play that after two years."

  "That's because you only know people in punk bands and they only know three chords," Dee laughed.

  "Lets look at your songs," I said to Dee. I've heard some of his stuff before when he's played it on the street, so I know he can do it.

  He handed me a tattered notebook. "It's a bit different," he said. "I wanted to try something more classic rock."

  "Like what?" Frank asked. "Led Zeppelin, classic? Deep Purple? Oh, I know, glam rock like T-Rex."

  "Led Zeppelin," Dee and I echoed at the same time and he grinned at me.

  He picked up his guitar then and played through the first song in his book. It's a fast rock song.

  I read through his lyrics and whistle. "Nice words, Dee Dee."

  "Naa, not really. I want you to rewrite them."

  "Me?"

  "Sure, why not?"

  "They're all about love and sex," I said. "Not exactly my forte."

  "How is it not your thing, Zo Zo?" Frank exclaimed. "Look at you."

  I looked at myself and shrugged.

  "She doesn't see it," Dee said to the others. "Not yet."

  I looked down at the song Dee's written, so I could hide my blush, and play the first few bars the way he's shown me. Dee's idea of writing is to illegibly scribble the chord down and demonstrate. Unlike me, he hasn't bothered to learn how to read or write music. He's intended it to be a fast rock number, but I slow it down and play around with it. I'm surprised at how pretty it sounds this way.

  "Fucking hell, Zoe," Dee exclaimed and at first I think he's mad and my fingers scratch across the strings making a horrible sound.

  "Don't stop," Chris said from his corner.

  "I never thought of it that way," Dee's wetting his pants. "That sounds hot."

  "Like sex on a stick," Frank said, much to the amusement of the guys.

  "What's it called?" Chris asked.

  "Walls," I said.

  Dee pulled out another notebook from his bag and tossed it to me. "Write the lyrics."

  I looked at the empty notebook and Dee's tattered one that's full of ideas and marks and don't know where to start. I tried not to think about it too much as I grabbed a pen and wrote out the music best I could manage. It's already there, I just have to translate it into something coherent. But, when it came to the words, I saw what Dee has written and it could be a song for me. No wonder he wants me to change it. He wants the song to be from me, instead. My side of the story.

  The couch dipped next to me and Dee stuck his head over my shoulder to see what I'm writing. I pressed the notebook into my chest and he tried to snatch it away.

  "Hey," I cried. "I like you and all Dee, but stop trying to feel me up."

  His lips curved into a sly smile and he knew that I was onto him and for once I didn't argue.

  "What are we gunna call ourselves?" Frank asked. Before Chris could open his mouth he added, "No ideas accepted from Chris."

  "Why not?" he grumbled.

  "We're not into Morrissey," Dee laughed.

  "I think Empty Hands is a good name for an indie band," I said kindly.

  "Thanks, Zoe," Chris smiled and tapped his bottle against mine.

  "We're not a pansy mopey indie band," Frank said and beat on his chest. "I want to beat the shit outta those skins, for one. I'm too manly to get in touch with my feminine side."

  Dee was watching me with a frown and I realised I'd been running a finger along the scar on my arm.

  "Tattoo," he said, his eyes meeting mine.

  "What?" I jumped and tucked my hands under my legs.

  "Tattoo," he said again and I could almost see the light bulb over his head. "The Devil's Tattoo."

  As soon as he said it, I knew he wanted to name the band after me. I couldn't help but wonder who the devil was meant to be. The devil scarred my arm and I covered it with a tattoo.

  "Dee," I began to scold him.

  "Bloody LOVE IT," Frank shouted, on his feet.

  "It's not like that, Zoe," Dee whispered in my ear. "You're my phoenix from the ashes. You're my version of the devil, babe."

  It sounded like he was declaring his love for me and in a way he was, but not like that. Dee's my brother. Dee's my family.

  I smiled at him. "The Devil's Tattoo."

  "All in favour?" Dee asked, but it's already been decided.

  "Hell yeah!" everyone shouted, and it's done.

  The next couple of months flew by in a haze of band rehearsal. We got together almost every day at Frank's place and worked through Dee's songs. I rewrote some lyrics and together we came up with some stuff that we were all really pleased with.

  It was one Thursday night, just after rehearsal on our way home, when Dee dropped a bomb on top of me.

  "You did what?" I almost screeched at him.

  "I booked us a gig," he said like it was the most normal thing in the world.

  "And you're dumping this on me now?"

  "Yep."

  "When?"

  "Tomorrow night."

  "Tomorrow?" This can't be happening. I need time to mentally prepare myself.

  "Tomorrow night at Cherry," Dee said proudly.

  "Cherry?" Cherry Bar is probably Melbourne's most famous rock venue. It sits off AC/DC Lane in the city and is a tiny hole in the wall. It attracts rockers, punks, indies and all kinds of alternative types.

  "We're supporting Ipswich."

  I know Ipswich is a hard rock outfit that have been doing pretty well locally. The thought of playing before them made me even more edgy.

  "We've got the songs, Zoe. With a cover, we've got a tight set. This will be amazing."

  The thought flowed through my mind that there would be people I knew there. People that didn't like me all that much. What if I bombed? It would give them fodder for years.

  Dee seemed to read my mind. "It's your chance to rub their faces in it."

  "But…"r />
  "No buts," he scolded me. "I'd say picture them all naked, but that's a bit of a cliché."

  "And it'd scar me for life."

  "Ugh, don't go there."

  "You went there first."

  Dee pulled into the drive of my apartment block and kissed me on the cheek. "If I don't see you tomorrow, I'll pick you up at six thirty sharp. Doors at eight."

  "Okay," I replied, getting out the car and retrieving my guitar from the back.

  As he drove away, I couldn't help but feel my stomach churn already and what ifs bounced around my brain. Before, when I thought about becoming fodder for gossip again? That was my only real fear. After the break up with my ex, everyone turned on me. They didn't want to hear my side of the story and Walls? Walls was my side. What would happen if someone I knew from before was there and heard it? What would happen then? I was worried it would drag everything back up the moment I began to feel happy and destroy this great thing that Dee had created for me. That's what I was most afraid of.

  Was I destined to feel afraid the rest of my life because of what someone else did to me?

  The guys in Ipswich were actually pretty nice. They'd listened to our hastily recorded CD of songs and were happy to have us along to support after another group dropped out at the last second. They'd been hanging round in the alley out front of the bar when we arrived and chatted to us like we were already friends. They had four members like we did, but all guys. All of them dressed like they were Guns'n'Roses and AC/DC hybrids. Black skinny jeans, torn t-shirts and long hair ranging from below the ears to almost as long as mine.

  Being in the band meant you had to be there early to set up your gear. In a small venue like this, you had to DIY. There was no such thing as a roadie and you even had to find someone to help with the sound. Luckily, Ipswich's guy helped us out since we'd come on at such late notice. We were doing them a favour, apparently. Even they didn't have enough songs to fill two sets.

  We were sitting in the corner on some couches drinking and passing the time until it was time for us to go on. Frank was all worked up and ready to go. He'd done this a million times and so has Chris who's so mellow, I'm jealous. Right now, I felt like throwing up. Dee has an uncanny ability to guess what I'm thinking and he poked me and feigned throwing up.

  "Not funny," I said with a groan.

  "Take your hair out," Dee said, tugging on my braid.

  "Why?"

  "I'm not getting up there with you looking like that. And if you do happen to throw up, I'll hold it out the way."

  "Thanks, girlfriend," I punched him in the shoulder.

  "You look better with it out," he laughed. "Image, Zo Zo. And you can hide behind it and people think it looks rock'n'roll."

  I pulled my braid out and shook my hair, much to Dee's amusement. I'm suddenly very glad I let my fringe grow out, because now I can hide behind it as well. If your eyes are the windows to your soul, then on stage I don't want anyone looking into them.

  One of the guys from behind the bar leant over and said something in Dee's ear and my heart almost stopped.

  "Time to rock'n'roll, Zo Zo," he said to me.

  I swallowed hard and for the first time, I looked up at the crowd around us and understood just how popular Ipswich are. The place is crammed with people and now I had to go and play in front of them.

  "Close your eyes and jump, sweetness." Frank wrapped an arm around my waist, guiding me through the throng.

  "We believe in you." Chris squeezed my shoulder as he passed.

  I stepped up onto stage and slung my guitar strap over my shoulder and I can't hear a word Dee is saying into his mic. Frank smiled at me from behind the drum kit and began to count us in for the first song. It's now or never, so I turned around and began to play, the words of our opening song tumbling from my mouth and I imagine myself in Frank's back room. We're at rehearsal. No one else is here. I know the stuff. I know it. It's going to be awesome.

  Then the first song is done and the crowd is clapping and cheering and I don't understand what's going on until Dee's in my ear saying, "They fucking love you Zo. I love you."

  I grinned up at him and realised he was right. They were liking us. They were really liking us. We powered through our set, not skipping a beat and all too soon it was time for Walls. The song that bared my soul and nausea washed over me.

  "This next song," Dee was saying, "is one that's close to home. It's quite personal and we hope that it resonates with some of you. It's called Walls.”

  Taking a deep breath, I dove into it, playing the intro solo, and as the music progressed, Chris added his bass and Dee came in on the second guitar part. Frank was playing a soft beat and other than the hum from the bar at the back of the venue, everything seemed deathly still. I forgot about the crowd in front of me and began singing.

  There's a calm in the stories now told

  A tale of a girl gone wrong

  Turned on Set upon Smash and burn

  I guess you know why

  There were no lies in the way she lay

  Broken, Alone, No place to call home

  Split apart, You splintered her bones

  A lie you told why

  The Walls have gone up, the Walls have closed down

  The Walls that you have built up

  Built up inside you

  There was more than a break in the smiles

  I'd never known her to cry

  A river, a lake, a flood plain

  She's shaking lost again

  You splintered her bones

  Splintered her bones

  Slamming the Walls down

  The Walls have gone up, the Walls have closed down

  The Walls that you have built up

  Built up inside you

  As the last chords of the song echo out into silence, I felt confidence brimming inside me and I looked up right into the eyes of Will Strickland and I almost tripped over my guitar lead, my heart doing a little flip-flop. He was shaking his head, a grin on his face, clapping along with the rest of the crowd around him.

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I ripped out the lead from my guitar and made a hasty exit, stage right, not quite understanding why it had riled me up. Suddenly, I grimaced, realising that somewhere along the line, I had developed an epic crush on him.

  Dee appeared behind me and helped me begin to pack away our gear so Ipswich can set up.

  "You were ah-maze-ing," he grinned at me. "What a rush, huh?"

  "Yeah," I sighed, realising it was more the rush from just having shown myself and everyone out there that I can do this band thing, than seeing Will Strickland in the crowd. "Yeah, it was."

  "Wanna do it again?"

  "Sure."

  The rest of the night, I hardly looked at anyone. If someone said hello, I would peek out from under my hair and say hi. Mostly, I didn't recognise anyone and I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Our set had gone over well. So well, people stopped us to say how much they liked it and a few even asked if we had an EP. When I finally stood at the bar, I almost had a heart attack when I saw Will Strickland standing right next to me, his arm pressed up against mine in the tight space. The sudden awareness of my crush tingled down my bare arm making me jerk away.

  He suddenly realised I was standing there and looked at me with a sly grin on his face. Like the wolf who'd caught the lamb unawares.

  "Hey," he said with a lopsided grin.

  "Hey," I said and almost choked when Dee grabbed my arm and pulled me away.

  "Not on my watch," he said, glaring back at Will.

  "What the hell are you doing?" I'm almost shouting at him.

  "He's not right for you."

  "Who died and made you my Dad?"

  "Zoe," he ran a hand over his face, "I just got you back. A guy like that will just use you and chuck you back just as broken as before. I can't see you like that again."

  "You're the one who worked so hard to get me to move on," I said and gestured around us. "And lo
ok where we are. He wanted to talk to me."

  "Yeah, I want you to move on, but not to another idiot."

  I knew Dee's heart was in the right place, but I can't say that I'm not annoyed. I knew exactly who Will Strickland was. How could I forget with Dee around to remind me.

  "Okay," I said. "From now on, I'll let you screen all my dates. When I get some."

  He knew I was having him on and his face softened. "I expect a resume, you know."

  I laughed, shaking my head. Chris appeared beside us then and has a girl trailing behind him. She's quite pretty. Blonde, friendly face, dressed in black jeans, boots and a fitted Ramones t-shirt.

  "This is my friend Simone," Chris said, nodding to the girl.

  "Hi." She held out her hand and I shook it with a small smile. "You were great."

  "Thanks," I said with a shrug.

  "Wanna get a drink?" she asked.

  "Uh, sure."

  Dee pushed me towards the bar with Simone and I couldn't help but warming to her when she linked her arm through mine like we're already best buddies. She smiled at the bartender and she's pretty enough that he let it slide and jump the queue.

  She handed me a bottled cider a moment later with a grin. "I noticed you had one on stage."

  Wow. "Thanks. So, what do you do?"

  "I study Music Management at Swinburne Uni," she said. "I have no musical talent, not like you! I wish, though. I want to manage a band or a venue one day."

  "Oh, that's cool," I said. She seemed outgoing enough to be able to do it and I wonder if it's why she's hanging out with me and buying drinks. We'd played one gig and she wanted to be my friend. Or perhaps, she just wanted to get to know me. I had to get over my own hang-ups.

  "Hey," she said suddenly. "Has anyone ever told you you look like Alison Mosshart? You know, the lead singer from The Kills?"

  I blinked hard in surprise. I think I liked this girl already.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  WILL

  I stood out in the middle of the street at the closest tram stop to the studio, darkness all around, apart from the traffic that passed behind me.