“One Hundred Years of Servitude”

Within my work in progress, there’s a scene where Jared is talking with his bestie Lenore, about his love life troubles. His partners are both notably imperfect and have made their own mistakes.

At one point, however, his response is weaponizing their choices in anger, rather than trying to talk issues through. They both storm off, leaving him alone. Lenore finds him crying. He tries to hide his tears but believes he has failed.

Lenore points out that the three of them (Jared, Dorian, and Haven) have been through an overwhelming amount of upheaval in a very short amount of time. She tells him it’s no wonder they’re at one another’s throats now and then, all that considered.

He asks her advice. How does he go about reopening channels of communication, when neither one of them wants to see him?

She gives him a very Lenore answer.

If neither of them is ready to hear his apology, she says, he shouldn’t try talking, first, but rather, seduction. Talking can come later. It gets a bit more explicit than that, but you get the general idea.

Having overheard their conversation from the next suite over (vampire hearing), Dorian later remarks that he ought to write a song called “One Hundred Years of Servitude,” a cheeky nod to Gabriel García Márquez’s novel One Hundred Years of Solitude.

I was a bit stuck on where to go with the next scene. There will be new characters aplenty, methinks, and lots of technical details required. Likely some research on my part. To get the murder mystery aspect feeling authentic. Police procedures, lawyers, etc.

SO… I took a break from narrative and wrote the lyrics.

The black and white photo included with this post, I found somewhat by accident. I hadn’t anticipated discovering something so fitting. Jared had a dream in the first book where that story’s villain appeared within a crumbling cathedral.

The lyrics are still very much rough-drafted, but here they are, such as they are, tonight. We’ll see what might need tweaking. Just thought I would share a taste of the story in progress.

---

“One Hundred Years of Servitude”

---

I offered you eternity,

but you’re the one on 

bended knee. Granting

love so easily, pleasures

untold, as each night

unfolds, bestowing 

soul and body, over

and again, unto me.

***

Who am I to deny

such a gift freely

given? A prayer

on your lips, with

every kiss, worship

unearned, but so

gladly taken. Your

mouth the very 

gate to this heathen’s

heaven. Tasting me,

taking me, the favors

of every deadly 

sins’ seven.

***

Lover mine,

for all time,

I am unworthy,

but you render me

holy, surrendering

wholly, whispering

lowly, penitent,

slowly unveiling

completely, bare

now, before me.

***

No angel, I, 

deserving of your

sacrifice, our bed

the altar, where 

you are the tithe.

***

Humbly, but

hungrily, not

once do I falter,

consuming

all too readily.

I exalt your 

submission,

your salty skin.

***

One hundred 

years of promised

servitude, nary one

day less. Your stormy-

sea eyes, now they

flood, fever-hued,

you I once wooed,

by body and blood,

by which we are 

blessed.

---

I included some song lyrics in the first book, Wishful Sinful, but not in the short story that takes place after. They were too busy fighting for their lives in a haunted bed and breakfast, for Dorian to conceive any music.

One of those earlier songs I think was called “New Religion,” and concerns idolatry of an undeserving and manipulative partner. The song’s poetic voice redeems himself by finding something real, and regaining his sense of himself.

So, the tone of these words feels on-brand for Dorian’s band, Velveteen Slumber. And he does seem to enjoy writing love songs for Jared.

I’ll have to add a song for Haven at some point, as well. They’ve been together longer, but it feels like he would have written her something, at some point. Maybe a song he doesn’t often perform, since it makes him so emotional, which is why it wasn’t featured at the concert in Book One?

Things to think about!

Haven and Jared both have relatively unexplored origin-family stories, too. And I’m not sure if I go into a lot of detail about how Lenore and Jared met, or what Lenore’s life was like ahead of that? She talks a little about college, and exes. But the story arcs take place over such a tight span of time, apart from the current project, that those omissions didn’t seem glaring. Now might be a good time all the same to fill in those gaps.

I personally have had two poems written in my honor, and though I’m sure he forgot about it as soon after it had happened, Billy Idol made heated eye contact with me for a VERY prolonged time, while performing onstage.

He looked down at me in the crowd, as though challenging me, sizing me up, showing off. I looked back and thought, you may be Billy f*cking Idol, but what the hell? I’m Michelle f*cking Engel.

Something in my expression must have floored him, if only for a moment, because his jaw dropped. It was a very proud moment for me. I’ll never forget it.

There was also the time I took my neighbor to see my former musician-guy-flame play on a side stage in Milwaukee, with his band. He hadn’t seen me in some time. I intentionally dressed myself according to his favored aesthetics. As goth as I could get with what I had on hand.

I think I did fairly well. Black lace top, with a ribbon running down the center, and pleating on the sides along my ribs and torso, like satin in a coffin. I forget if I went with a skirt or black jeans. But I was all in black that night, if memory serves.

He wore sunglasses during their set, but I could still feel him watching me as he sang their cover of Flock of Seagulls’ “I Ran.”

I was fairly certain he didn’t recognize me, especially once he walked past me repeatedly. He kept checking me out under his eyelashes, with cautious side glances– daring me to stop him and engage in conversation, as if it had been my idea the whole time.

I touched his arm finally and said hi. He nearly picked me up all over again then realized who I was. It was pretty funny, seeing his badass facade fall apart. I believe his response was something along the lines of “Oh, $h!t, Michelle!”

Maybe those two instances are the closest I will come to being truly romanced by a rockstar. But that could be for the best. Dorian Volker would be a very tough act to follow, in real life.

And yet, a girl can wistfully dream, and marvel at all the musicians who show up as potential matches, in the dating apps.

Also, as if those memories aren’t enough to rekindle my inner wild woman confidence, a coworker told me tonight that if she didn’t know better, she would assume I was in my 30’s. Huzzah for hair color, joie de vivre, and fragments of unresolved teen angst, keeping me young!