It was a dark and stormy night at Kong Studios.
Heavy rain pelted the roof in sheets. Fingers of lighting raced across the sky just beyond my window, accompanied seconds later by loud claps of thunder.
This particular dreary night I happened to be off my tits on wine coolers and Percocet, sprawled across my bed in the dark, strumming my guitar. Suddenly, there came a timid knock at my door.
"Jus' a minute," I fumbled my way free from the tangled sheets and laundry on my bed. The floor was a bitch on stilts to navigate with everything spinning around me. The door knocked again. "Oy! En route! Cool yer tits!"
I managed to undo all the locks, chains and bolts, twisting the knob and peering out the gap with one hollow socket. No one. Fucking ghosts. Always playing pranks, the ragamuffins.
Just as I went to shut the door, someone cleared their throat. I looked down.
"Herro," Noodle chirped.
"Oh! Uh… hey Noodz." I stared as our guitar player elbowed her way past me, into my room. Across her back was slung a heavy-looking leather satchel. She set the bag down by my TV and began unpacking its contents. Out came a tangle of cords and wires, a gaming console, and a pair of controllers.
"Um," I blinked, watching her work. Well this is weird, I thought to myself. I glanced around, making sure that this was, in fact, my room. I'd been known to wander into my bandmates' rooms accidentally, on account of the brain damage 'n that. But no – this was definitely my room.
She finished setting up the console and powered it on, flopping back against the mound of wadded sheets on my bed as she booted up a game. She sat the second controller a few feet away, patting the mattress beside it.
Oh! thought my horse tranquilizer-infused mind after some deliberation. Guess she wants to play a game. Hesitantly I picked my way over, sitting down heavily on the edge of the bed.
"Um..." I scratched the back of my neck, feeling awkward. "You, uuh… want somefin' to drink?" Impromptu or not, I didn't want to be a bad host. I'd be ill spoken of in the village.
"Mizu, onegaishimasu."
"'Kay, I didn't understand none of that."
She grinned beneath her shaggy purple bangs. "Water."
"Oh! Yeah, I got that."
I pinched a water bottle for her from my little Smeg. And then… random as fuck… we started playing video games. At one in the morning. With a lightning storm raging beyond my bay window, in a dirty bedroom that smelled unmentionably fowl.
It was a fighting game. One I'd never played before, on a console I didn't own. I was losing pretty bad. The painkillers probably weren't helping. Still, it was pretty fun. Noodle's mad animated when she gets going. I'd seen her and Russ gaming on the carpet in the living room, and there was always plenty of trash talking – most of it in Japanese – going around.
Whenever she'd knock my character off into the sunset, she'd thrust her skinny arms into the air, letting loose a high-pitched cheer. Woozy as I was, I soon found myself getting into it, and before long I was loosing less and less miserably with each passing round.
In hindsight, I might have known something was up.
It was late at night. She smelled nice, which nobody does naturally at one in the morning. She had on pajama bottoms and a spaghetti strap top. One strap was trailing down her arm. It caught in the dim light of the LED screen, and for some reason, I couldn't stop staring at it.
Noodz had never been in my room before, save that one unfortunate time with the honey badger, and only then just to save my life. As we played, I kept wondering what was wrong. I didn't get very far, mind, on account of all the brain damage 'n that. But I did make the effort.
After an hour or so of playing, the nightmare chasms that I use for my lookin' ports were mad tired. I set the controller down, flopping back against my bed. I pinched the space between my eyes, yawning.
"Tired," Noodle asked, pausing the game. Although it was hard to see in the dark, I thought I saw the corner of her mouth tug. Was she worried I was going to put her out?
"Y-yeah… jus' a bit. You can keep playing though."
This seemed to appease her. She exited back to the title screen, selected single player, set the difficulty at max, and launched the thing.
As I lay back watching the sharp glow of the screen, it occurred to me just how incredibly weird this was. Noodz had always been super private. Us boys weren't allowed in her tatami room under any circumstances, and she rarely ventured into our spaces. To be honest, the whole thing was a little off-putting. Did she want something?
My mind started to wander. I hadn't had a girl in my room since the last clutch of roadies had come through while we were on tour.
My tar pits widened as it dawned on me that Noodle was, in fact, a girl.
I'd never thought about it before! Noodle had always just been Noodle – our weird little Japanese guitarist that got delivered to us in a wooden crate. For years on, she'd always been one of the boys. She wore bomber hats and ponchos and did kung-fu.
Lately though, Noodle had started dressing a bit… different. Less baggy ponchos and more… um… fitted garments. And while she still hides her face behind her hair, every so often you can catch a glint of phosphorous blue on her eyelids through the parts.
I noticed, suddenly, that the air in the room had changed. Not in terms of smell, mind you – it still smelled like patchouli oil, bong water and old wank – but rather in that, now, there seemed to be a tension that hadn't been there before. Noodz wasn't cheering or shit-talking like before. The only noise bouncing off the walls was the clacking of her controller keys.
I suppose it's here that our story actually starts. With me doing a stupid, stupid thing.
I noticed there was a gap in Noodle's clothing. Like, a gap between where her tank top ended and her pajamas began where a little bit of skin was showing.
I suddenly, for no accountable reason, felt the overwhelming urge to cover said patch of skin with my hand.
I didn't give it any thought; thinking, of course, being somewhat tricky business for me. On account of all the brain damage 'n that.
Without my meaning it to, my hand snaked out, pressing gently to the exposed skin on the small of her back. I was just as surprised as she was, I'm sure. I felt something warm, looked down and saw my hand resting on her. How'd that get there, I wondered.
I didn't have long to ponder it, however, as unbeknownst to me, the rest of my life was in the process of changing forever.
The game paused. Noodle looked over her shoulder – the faintest glint of black peeking between jagged bangs. Her lips parted. I noticed for the first time since unboxing her that Noodle had lips. Pretty ones at that.
Goosebumps broke out over her skin right beneath my fingers. And then suddenly, she was in my lap.
It all happened so fast. One minute, we had a good three feet between us. The next, she was on top of me, straddling me, her long fingers braced against my chest.
Her eyes were little pinpricks of light peering down at me, studying me. Her chest rose and fell as if she were out of breath. She licked her lips, then growled, "Why do you always have to be so fukkin' cute?" A shiver raced through my spine.
She leaned down and kissed me. Soft at first, as if testing the waters. Then rougher. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, flicking about in the gap between my teeth. In no time I found myself kissing back. My hand was in her hair, gripping the back of her head, pulling her down against me.
Well this was a turn, wunnit?
I couldn't think. My body was on autopilot: mouth kissing, hands wandering wherever they thought they could get away with. Jesus she's soft! was all I could think. Her hair. Her lips. Her skin. She smelled clean and wonderful, like she'd just stepped out of a shower. My hands were on her hips, gripping, holding her against me.
Maybe this'll be all we do, the sane, rational part of my brain thought – right before Noodle broke our kiss to peel her top off. I lay there staring up in amazement as the silky pink fabric gave way to two perfect little breasts. One had a silver stud through it's areola, practically calling out my name, begging me to nibble it. Her hips ground into mine, frotting me. Jesus! Where did all this come from?!
When I couldn't stand it anymore, I sat up, cradling her in my lap as my lips found the hard edge of her pierced nibble, suckling it greedily. Noodle sighed, her arms banding around my neck as I teased the stud with my tongue. She gripped my hair, pulling me off. I whimpered in protest. She dove on my mouth, silencing me.
Now, I'm going to skip a bit ahead. Why? Because describing my sex life to a complete stranger ain't gentlemanly. 'Least not right off. (There'll be sex described later on – pinkie swear. Stay tuned!)
Anyways, needless to say, we had sex. And it was… fuckin' amazing! I mean, god DAMN! Who knew a girl that small could put me through the hoops like that! I came buckets!
I know she got there too. I know she did. I felt it. Her legs locked around me, she let loose a thick moan right against my- but there I go describing the sex again. Movin' on!
So anyways, we were lying there afterwards, all tangled up in eachother, passing a blunt back and forth when something started niggling at me. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. We watched TV, giggled, kissed, and the whole time this indistinct thought was worming through my head, trying to reach daylight.
As a gray ribbon of light scrawled its way across the horizon, it finally occurred to me.
I'm 24.
Noodle joined our band four years ago. The shipping invoice that came with the crate said she was 10 at the time.
Ten… plus four…
PROCESSING… SPINNING WHEEL ICON… LOADING BAR… CRASH… REBOOT… SAFETY MODE… PROCESSING…
"Noodz," I croaked, my waterlogged graves opening wide.
"Mm-hm?" Noodle yawned, her head resting on my chest.
"How… um… how old are you?"
"Fo'teen!" she said cheerfully.
"'Kay. S'wut I thought. Night."
"Night!"
Noodle drifted off to sleep within minutes. Lucky her. I, on the other hand, spent the next four hours until breakfast having one of the worst panic attacks of my life.