The Narrow Walk

By JF Jackson

Part One

Funny, he never expected the end of the world to be quite like this. He always thought it would be brighter and flasher. He certainly didn't think he'd end up in a cheap bar, trying to drink his sorrows away.

Of course most people wouldn't even say the world had come to an end. If they even knew of his situation, they'd say he was suffering a broken heart. The cruder ones would say he was the latest resident of dumpsville. But what did anyone else know?

On his table were two shots of whiskey and a mug of beer. He picked up the first shot glass. "Dis is for you," he whispered, then chugged it, feeling it burning down his throat.

Before his eyes finished watering, he picked up the second one. "An dis is for Joseph." He sent the second drink to keep company with the first. "Some might say de better man won."

He could still recall the look in her eyes when she told him. Sorry, yes, Rogue was a true lady, and a true lady did not take pleasure in causing pain. But beyond the sorrow, the regret, their was a sparkle in her eyes, a spring in her steps, a general radiant glow about her. She finally realized the truth in her heart, she loved Joseph.

"Score one for de master of magnetism, score zero for de Cajun t'ief," he muttered. He looked around to see if anyone was staring at him. No need. This was the type of place where someone drowning their sorrows and mumbling to themselves was the norm.

He chugged down his beer and looked around for a waitress. They were hard to tell from the clientele in this place. Gonna get good an' drunk, he thought to himself. Celebrate Rogue an' Joseph's good fortune. Long life an' happiness t'both of dem.

He wasn't drunk yet, but he was well on his way.

He managed to get a waitress attention and get himself another beer. Better cool it on de shots. I'd hate to get sick an' pass out b'fore midnight. It would be too.. embarrassing.

He lit up a cigarette and leaned back in his chair. The place was filling up steadily, not unusual he supposed, for a Saturday night, but some of the clientele surprised him. There were the usual assortment of biker types, but mixed among them were college students, business men, blue collar workers, couples on dates. This struck his interest, but didn't hold it for long... why should he care? He had more important matters to concern himself with. Wallowing in self pity is an all consuming task.

At nine o'clock, the place hushed down to an almost silent level. Remy looked around, puzzled. There was nothing he could see to signal this "quiet moment." Nothing. The stage, to the immediate left of him was still quiet. He could feel something in the air, radiating off several of the patrons.

Anticipation.

What dese poor slobs got t'be lookin' forward to in a place like dis? He scowled. It wasn't fair that people could be looking forward to something when the world--at least his world had come to an end.

The already dim lights in the place dimmed further.

The anticipation level went up at least five notches.

Suddenly the stage area, which up until this moment had been pitch black, lit up, reveling, of all shocking things... a band! Three men with guitars, one with a drum set, one with a keyboard. They looked for all the world like a typical bar band. Grungy clothes, three with long hair, two shaved down to nothing but a stubble of color.

The blue lighting suddenly began flashing and the band broke into a song. He didn't recognize it, but it had a powerful, rather driving beat to it. He had to admit, the band was good, but he didn't think they quite warranted this level of excitement in the place. The people around him were staring at the stage, as if it held some sort of secret to the mysteries of the universe.

When did de world get so hard pressed for entertainment? he wondered. He realized then that the anticipation hanging in the room hadn't diminished, or even leveled. It was steadily rising.

The music slowed down and the lights on the stage faded out to black. Now Remy was curious. Hope dey play longer dan dis, otherwise dese people get ripped off.

Suddenly the band crashed into song, again, the stage still black as pitch. One of the band members screamed out, "One, Two, Three, Four!" Before the r in four finished echoing off the walls, another member began singing:

"Walking like a man, hitting like a hammer,
She's a juvenile scam. Never was a quitter,
tasted like a raindrop, she's got the look."

The lights came back on the stage and the five member band was suddenly six. Remy did a double take, member six was female, although calling her female was a bare scratch of the surface.

The first thing he noticed was the hair. A mixture of red and brown, straight, and hanging down to her ass in a shinning, mass of highlights and waves. As she moved with the music, the light highlighted it, making it look like liquid fire. Once he'd taken in the hair, his gaze took in the rest of her. large, almond shaped eyes, the corners tilted upward, just enough to give her a cat-like appearance, high, cheekbones, full sensual mouth. Pale skin, almost pearl white. Long, muscular arms and legs, narrow waist. She was wearing a black leather mini skirt with a real chain wrapped around the waist as a belt, hanging low at the sides with a combination lock to hold it shut, draped off her right hip. On top she wore a green blouse, the sleeves ripped off, the tails tied just below her breasts. Her legs were covered by sheer nylons, and on her feet were a pair of green pointed toe Ked's sneakers.

She was beyond beautiful, she was beyond sexy.

And... she set his teeth on edge.

He didn't know if it was a hormone rush, or if there was something else about her, but he knew he couldn't take his eyes off her. It wasn't just her looks, it was her presence. "Love me or hate me," her body language said, "But don't you dare ignore me."

Nobody in the place was either. When the lights revealed her, and almost audible gasp went through the place.

The singing continued:

"Heavenly bound, cause heaven's got her number
When she's spinning me around, kissing is a colour, her loving is a wild dog, she's got the look."

Remy started to wonder if she served any purpose in the band but eye candy, when she suddenly grabbed a microphone and sang:

"She's got the look!"

One line, but the moment it began coming out of her mouth, practically everyone in the place rose to their feet and started clapping, stomping and whistling. Despite the noise, her voice sailed out over the crowd. She only sang one line, then the male vocalist and guitar player continued, but it didn't matter.

That one line was sung in the voice of an angel... and the devil. It was crystal and coal, satin and sandpaper. Every note pure and clean as a summer rain, yet sexy as sleek black cat.

He wanted to hear more, but this song didn't seem to require her to sing much more than a line or so of the chorus, and a few lines of "filler" sounds. Yet, every time she sang her bit parts, he felt his heart leaping in his throat. The other people in the bar were obviously experiencing the same thing, even the women. Not just a hormone rush then, he thought briefly. Who is this?

He realized it was deliberate on the part of her and the band that all she had was a bit part in the first song. She was teasing the audience, giving them just a taste. He wasn't quite sure what she was selling up there, but it was a pretty powerful substance.

When the song ended, everyone rose to their feet again, him with them this time, clapping and stomping. It was clearly not for the band, only for her. The guitar player/male vocalist knew it too, because he turned to her and clapped along with them. "Everyone, I give you Darkstar!"

She smiled, looking out at the audience, letting them clap for her, cheer for her. Her eyes narrowed into slits for a moment, as if absorbing, digesting, the enthusiasm. What she gave the audience, they gave back. Then, she raised her hands, only slightly.

Immediately, everyone quieted and sat back down. She smiled, offering her approval, then began to sing again, this time without accompaniment:

Oh what a night!
Late December back in 63,
What a very special time for me...
As I remember, what a night.

He knew the song, Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. It had been a hit in the mid 70's and re-released a few years ago. She altered the words ever so slightly, to fit a female singer:

"Oh what a night,
You know I never even caught his name,
but I was never gonna be the same,
Sweet surrender what a night..."

She moved with the music, not just singing it, but being it. She wasn't here to merely entertain, she was taking an emotional journey and insisting everyone take it with her.

"I... got a funny feeling when he walked me
In the room...
Hey, I...
As I recall it ended much too soon..."

As she sang the last line, her eyes rolled upward, her lips twisted into a smirk. Everyone in the audience laughed, the men a nervous laughter as if she was hitting too close to home, the women as if to say, "Yes, we've been there before."

Gambit had come to the bar to get drunk and wallow in self pity, but the plans suddenly changed. He was, instead paying full attention to this "Darkstar" Dat can' be her real name. Nobody names a child Darkstar

Her performance ranged a wide musical spectrum, including everything from Unchained Melody to Nine Inch Nails. One minute she could sing sweet, older love songs, the next, sneering and screaming, as she asked of God, "Why are you doing this to me?" She walked among the audience, a cross between a grateful child, happy to see people liked her and a goddess, expecting to be worshipped. Occasionally, she reached out and touched someone, a brush across someone's head, or a touch of their hand. The person touched, always looked awestruck as if they couldn't quite believe the honor bestowed upon them.

When she and the band took their first break, he realized he was breathing heavy, as if he'd been working out. He didn't know if this was good or bad, but he knew it wasn't normal. She's much too good to be singin' in some sleazy biker bar

The second half of the show was, if anything, more intense than the first. The songs she sang were more emotional... or she sang them more emotionally. She seemed to have more energy too, spinning, gyrating, dancing, to the beat. Her interaction with the audience became more direct, sometimes even grabbing someone and pulling them onto the empty dance floor Who gonna dance an' interrupt this show? and singing to them.

Off to the side and in the shadows, Gambit thought he was safe from her gaze, she seemed to be mostly interested in those in the center and close to the front.

She finished singing an old Fleetwood Mac song, Rhiannon, and received thunderous applause. She smiled and bowed. "Thank you."

Her speaking voice was low and sexy with a tinge of shyness to it, as if she was more comfortable with singing than speaking. A voice like dat ought to be restricted, by law, to ugly women, Remy thought. It just ain't fair. Jean, Storm, Rogue and the other X-Women might have been able to stand proud with this woman in a contest of looks, but the moment Darkstar opened her mouth to speak, the contest would have been over.

"You'll never know what it means to me that you're all here tonight, and you all enjoyed the show," she continued, managing to sound both sexy and completely sincere. "I wish I could sing all night, but... a gal's gotta get some beauty sleep too."

The audience dutifully laughed as if to say, "sure you need beauty sleep. Uh huh." She smiled warmly, a faint, pink tinge coming to her cheeks.

"Sooo... we'll have to close this show with one last song. Enjoy."

She closed her eyes and in a high, sweet, angel's voice sang out:

Hold me, hold me,
Breathe the light into me
Hold me, hold me
Mother Dawn
Mother Dawn

The band crashed into the song with a heavy base beat. Her eyes snapped open and she leaped off the stage area, landing gracefully on the dance floor in a half crouch. She extended her free hand, as if reaching out to the audience, moving it in a sweeping motion as if trying to find something in the dark. Her voice lowered her singing going from sweet and innocent to dark and almost... mad.

"Dancing round the fire,
Circling the flame
Listen to the shadows calling out my name
They say
Rock me like a baby
Cradle me in the light
Bathe me in a rainbow
Sun restore my sight.."

As she finished the last line of the first verse, she was turned to Remy. Her gaze locked on his and held it, strong, her hand reaching out, as if she wanted to grab it. Her voice rose, in both volume, and intensity:

"Hold me, hold me
Breathe the light in to me
Hold me, hold me,
Mother Dawn!"

She walked over towards him, still fixing his gaze to hers. He tried to look away, but couldn't. He could only stare at her, watching her come closer, realizing he wanted this as much as he didn't want this. It didn't make sense, but nothing did. There was nothing in the world right now, but this strange woman creature singing to him, and himself.

"Come and take a journey through the land
of night
Darkness strokes the face and
Steals away the sight.
Night is all around me,
Stars are in my hair
I feel them tangled in the secrets we'll find
hidden there

She was almost touching the table now, her hand still stretched out to him:

"Reaching through the madness
To the other side
Where the sun is rising
With her arms held wide..."

He felt the air pushing from his lungs as if this were drowning him. Although part of him fought against this, another part of him won. He reached out and took the offered hand, clutching it as if it were a lifeline. Her long fingers curled around his, holding it surprisingly tight. She began raising their hands. He rose up from his seat, coming around the table, so he was standing in front of her. The entire time she never took her eyes off him, singing in her desperate voice of an insane angel. "Hold me, hold me..."

She backed away from the table, leading him towards the dance floor. He didn't see the people watching them, didn't hear them anymore. There was only her and him:

One star flew against the tapestry of the night
And the earth revolved in perfect symmetry
To a symphony of sun
The moon danced it's final bow
As the birth of a day
Exploded
In my eyes

My God, it's full of stars!

She never tried to get him to move with her, never tried to make him part of the "show" as she'd done with the other audience members she'd "chosen." Instead it was as if they were close acquaintances and she was singing this song just for him, yet there was a... desperate quality to her singing, as if she were begging for something, something from him. He had no idea what it was, but at that moment, he wanted to give it to her. For the five or so minutes she sang to him, his soul, his whole being was hers.

"Hold me, hold me,
Breathe the light into me
Hold me, hold me
Mother dawn..."

When the song ended, everyone rose to their feet and began clapping wildly, but he didn't notice. All he saw was her, still looking at him, still staring into his eyes as if seeing into his very soul.

Finally, she let go of his hand. "Thank you," she whispered. She broke his gaze and looked at the audience. "Thank you everyone, good night, drive safe!"

She started to move away, but he still held her hand. "Wait!"

She turned to him, her expression changing from Goddess to one more like a frightened child. "What?"

"I wanna talk t'you." He didn't just want to, he had to. This Darkstar had cast some sort of spell on him and the entire audience tonight and he had to figure out why. Who was she?

She shook her head. "No, not a good idea. I... shouldn't."

"Why? I'm not gonna bite you, just wanna ask you a few questions."

She looked around, as if she suddenly wanted to bolt. One of the band members started coming towards them. "No," she whispered. "Not now. It's not a good idea."

"When den?" he asked.

She looked over at the guy coming towards them and shook her head slightly. He stopped, but continued watching them.

She turned back to him. "Side door from the alley. Meet me in an hour by there."

His eyes narrowed as he studied her. She was in a hurry to get rid of him, but she wasn't lying about the meeting. "I'll be dere." He let go of her hand.

Her nod was barely perceptible as she turned and walked away.

Fifty-seven minute later, he was there, leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette. He had the uncomfortable feeling he was being watched. He looked around, his eyes narrowing in the darkness. She spook you out, he told himself. Next thing you know it, you be seeing de boogie man.

He focused on the feeling, trying to figure out where it was coming from, but with the alcohol in his system, his senses were a bit dulled. He walked to the end of the alley, quickly looking around.

"Looking for something?"

He whirled around. "I didn't even hear de door open!"

"You were obviously distracted." She'd changed into a pair of faded, ripped jeans and a men's grey sweatshirt, several sizes too big for her. The ribbing along the neck of the sweatshirt had been cut away, making the opening much large so it draped off one shoulder.

"I guess." She wasn't as tall as he first thought, he realized. If he had to venture a guess he'd say... ah, hell. "How tall are you?"

Her eyes flickered briefly. "Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Non." He shrugged, dropping his cigarette on to the ground and crushing it with the heel of his boot. "I was jus' curious."

"Five eight, if it really matters." She shrugged, causing her hair to ripple in the dim light available in the alleyway. She hitched the backpack she had slung over her shoulder further up. "Look, I'm hungry. If you want to talk to me, you can buy me something to eat."

He thought for a moment, and realized that food actually sounded good. "Okay, Chere," he agreed. "Have anyplace in mind?"

"Yeah, there's a place just around the corner." She started heading out of the alley. "We can walk."

He shrugged and began walking with her. "So, what's your name?"

"Darkstar."

"Dat's not your real name, is it?"

"It's real enough for now."

The place she lead him to was a small all-night diner. She picked a booth towards the back. Apparently, she was a regular here, because they'd barely sat down when a tired looking middle aged waitress came over with a mug of coffee and placed it down in front of her. "You want coffee?" she asked him.

"Oui."

The waitress walked away. "Darkstar" clutched the coffee mug, bringing it up to her nose and sniffing deeply. "I love the smell of coffee."

He saw now that her eyes were brown and fringed with long, thick, soft lashes. "I like the effects better dan de smell," he admitted.

"Sign of an addict." She grinned, leaning back in the cracked vinyl booth. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

He had a moment to collect his thoughts before answering, as the waitress brought him his coffee and two very stained menus. When she walked away, he picked one up and offered it to Darkstar. "You... intrigued me tonight."

She shook her head at the offer of the menu. "Oh, that's what they're calling it now, intrigue. Is that a polite way of saying you'd like to fuck me?"

She said this in such a matter-of-fact voice that he was almost afraid he misunderstood her. He shook his head. "Non,"

"Liar."

"Think a lot of yourself, don' you?" he retorted.

She laughed. "Everyone sells something, I sell sex."

He shook his head. "You sellin' a lot more'n sex up there," he disagreed. "You 'ave a very good voice."

She smiled, her eyes suddenly changing from brown to green, not a subtle change, like hazel eyes sometimes did, they literally flickered from deep brown to a bright emerald green "Thanks."

His head pulled back in a double-take. Did her eyes really change colour? He wanted to come straight out and ask her if she was a mutant, but he didn't dare.

Before he could think of anything brilliant to say, the waitress came over to take their order. She ordered a cheese omelette. Not being familiar with this place, he followed her lead ordering the same thing.

When the waitress left, she made a big production of straightening out her silverware. Her brow knitted as if she were puzzled by something.

"Somet'in wrong?" he asked her.

She looked at him. "Yes. I-if you aren't doing this to try to get me into bed, then why are you here?"

"D'you t'ink so little of yourself that you can' believe anyone would want to talk to you without tryin' t'have you?" he countered.

She shrugged. "When someone wants to meet me after seeing me perform, that's usually the reason." She snorted. "I've yet to have any guy say, 'God you were great, can I take you home to meet my Mom?'"

The thought of someone doing that seemed so ridiculous he couldn't help but chuckle. "Non, I don' want to take you home to meet my mother." Whoever she is

"Then why, Gambit?"

"I don' know-" he began, then stopped. He couldn't remember if he'd given her his name, but he knew for certain he didn't give her his code name.

She saw the confused, suspicious look on his face and grinned. "Oh, c'mon, are you really surprised I figured it out? I'm not stupid, I've seen the X-Men on TV and in the papers and I figured it out. If you want to be unknown, you've got to either wear dark glasses or get some... special contact lenses."

"Good point."

She chuckled. "Don't get out of the ma- house a lot, do you?"

"Enough t'see you."

"Yeah, and I guess you were pretty impressed. So, let's get back to the original subject. Why did you want to talk with me?"

"B'cause I never seen anyone sing like you b'fore. Least nobody as good as you in a bar like dat. You wastin' your talent Chere."

"Oh?" Her head tipped to one side. "The X-Men have expanded into talent management? Or is that just your sideline?"

"Non, just surprised me, dat's all." Since she'd figured out who he was, he didn't figure it would hurt to ask anymore, "Are you a mutant?"

"Why, I hardly think that's a question to be asking on our first date." She fluttered her lashes in an exaggerated fashion, reaching for his package of cigarettes. "Mind?"

He shook his head at her request and answered, "I was curious. You... charmed that audience tonight. I was just wonderin' if..."

She paused from lighting the cigarette. "Oh, what next? You think maybe, I really suck, but I cast some sort of mutant spell on the audience?" She put the cigarette down and rummaged in her backpack. "Here." She pulled out a cassette tape and tossed it at him. "Listen to this tomorrow, and you'll see that what you heard tonight is the real me, not some spell."

Her speech finished, she lit up the cigarette and inhaled deeply.

He accepted the cassette tape. "Non, you misunderstand.. I do t'ink it was you. But I'd like to keep dis if you don' mind."

"Suit yourself." Her eyes flickered again, switching to an azure blue.

"Aw, I wasn't tryin' to offend you," he explained. "I was just curious... de world ain't safe for mutants, an if you were one-"

"You were going to tell me you know of a safe place for mutants," she finished. "Save the speech. Yes, I'm a mutant. I admit it. But I don't need any help and I don't want any help. I'm doing fine on my own."

"Two rants in five minutes, I'm really pissin' you off," his voice was quiet.

Her shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a bitch. I... I'm tired I guess."

"It's okay."

The waitress brought their food over, an interruption for which Remy was grateful. Neither of them said much as they turned their attentions to eating. She's a prickly t'ing he thought. I guess I can understand, isn't easy bein' a mutant in dis world, but she's got to realize if I'm one of de X-Men, I'm on her side.

Her table manners were good, but she ate rapidly, demolishing the omelette and home fries in just under ten minutes. "Hungry, Darkstar?" he asked.

She nodded. "More than you'll realize."

"Must be hard work, singing like dat."

She shrugged. "I love it, actually. But it is a bit... draining." She looked out the window and back at him. "I-I can't stay much longer."

"Jus' give me a chance t'finish and I'll see you home," he offered.

She shook her head, suddenly tense. "No, it's okay. I can make my way home."

He didn't like this idea at all. "Dese streets can be dangerous dis hour of de night. Really, it's no trouble."

"No.. I'd prefer to see myself home." She rose from the table, her gaze going constantly to the window. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a couple bills, tossing them on the table. "This should cover my tab."

"I agreed to buy," he protested.

"Yeah, but I'm cutting out on you. Use it as the tip if you want." She gathered up her backpack and rose from the booth.

"Wait!" He reached out and took her hand, before she could walk out. "Chere, I still want t'talk to you."

"All right, all right! Do you know where Windsor Road is?"

He nodded, thinking she was going to accept his offer to see her home. "Oui. Dat where you live?"

"Yeah. If you go all the way to the end, you'll see the pavement ends and there is a dirt road. Follow the dirt road to the end and you'll see a cabin. I'm not performing tomorrow night, so if you really want to talk to me, you can come over then. See you."

Before he could stop her, she twisted away from him, turned and literally ran out the door.

He stared for a moment, startled at how quick her escape was, then got up and ran out the door.

She was nowhere in sight. It was as if she'd just vanished into the night.

Sighing, he walked back inside to pay the check.

She ran two blocks before she convinced herself she wasn't being followed. She slowed down to a walk. As she passed an alleyway, a figure stepped out of the shadows and came towards her.

Her eyes narrowed, then she shrugged. "Oh, hi, Stealth."

He raised his hand in greeting and walked along side of her. He stood two inches taller than her and even thinner. His skin was extremely pale and his long, black hair was tied in a ponytail, held by a leather thong. He didn't look older than nineteen.

To anyone who passed by, they looked like two friends walking along silently. No one could hear their conversation.

You left him.

I know, Stealth, I know. She kicked a can someone had dropped on the sidewalk. She hated the way his voice sounded fuzzy in her head. All full-blood voices sounded fuzzy to her and she knew she sounded fuzzy to them.

Why? You needed him.

I'm not full-blooded, Stealth, I'm only half. I don't need it as bad as you.

It's been over a week. You promised me tonight you would get some. He scowled, annoyed that she hated to do what she had to do to survive.

She could still convey annoyance and exasperation using her mental voice. Stealth, he's one of the X-Men!

He paused his thoughts for a moment. Did he know you?

No, he's after my time.

Then you should have taken him. X-Man or not, he still has blood.

"You know, I absolutely loathe it when you ride my ass like this!" she suddenly exploded, out loud. "I'm not a total incomp. There was a time in my life when I took care of myself!"

And look at the trouble it got you into, he retorted.

Aw, I don't want to fight. Her anger died down as quickly as it had flared up. Look, I know you're only looking out for me, and I appreciate it. But half vampire or not, I cannot feed off the X-Men. Never again.

End of Part One.

So, did I leave you hanging enough? *smile*

Author's Notes:

Musical Credits:

1: The Look was written by Per Gessie. It was made a hit by Roxette.

2: December 1963 (Oh What A Night) is from Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons. It takes on a whole new meaning when a woman sings it, trust me.

3: Mother Dawn was written by Durga McBroom and Martin Glover p/k/a "Youth." The song can be found on the Billy Idol album Cyberpunk. If you have never heard this song before, see if you can find a copy of it. It is the greatest song. I am not a Billy Idol fan, but Darqstar turned me on to this song and it's fantastic.

4: This story is fiction. Even though there is a character named Darkstar in it, and my friend goes by the name Darqstar on the net, do not think I am writing a story about her. Last time I checked, Darqstar is not a half vampire (although she does enjoy staying up all night.)

5: While I am using White Wolf for some of the vampire stuff, I'm also changing things to suit my need, so if you are a White Wolf/Vampire/The Masquerade expert, don't be surprised to suddenly find things becoming very different than what you might expect.

6: I would greatly enjoy feedback positive or negative about this story. I have very limited time to write and I do not want to waste time writing something no one wants to read, so if I don't get feedback, I will take that as non-interest in this tale and stop writing. I am not begging here. At least I hope I'm not begging. I am stating facts.

Sincerely
JF Jackson