Armenian Eyes

Daron Elizabeth and her aunt Michelle collect V.I.P tickets to a System of a down concert. they meet the whole band. Even Daron, The shyest, yet, biggest badass you have ever seen, has to admit the chemistry that flows between her and the lead guitarist(yeah, i know, so original). when the concert is over, the two relatives find a surprise on their doorstep...............


1. the meet and greet

  “Chelle!  Can I use your black face paint?” I called through the bathroom door.

  “Yeah!” Is my Aunt’s response.  Michelle is no normal Aunt.  She is awesome.  She scored us tickets to a System of a Down concert!  We are getting ready for it now!

  I examine myself in the bathroom mirror.  My long, unfortunately skinny legs are clad in black, leather skinny pants that are almost completely obscured by my, you guessed it, black, thigh-high combat boots.  I had recently stuck a few safety pins in the laces and pinned some buttons on the sides.  My shirt is a baggy, bleach stained Rob Zombie tee.  I look pretty good tonight.

  I bent over to reach the cabinets under the sink and begin digging around Chelle’s makeup bag, if you could even call it that.  All that the bag contains is some black and white face paint for concerts.  I grab the black and some paint brushes and begin my work.

  The cool paint is carefully applied around my eye, covering the brow.  I extend three lines the reach just above my jawline.  The finished product is the Punisher skull.

  I do a little happy dance and admire my work.  Then, I get back to business.

  I coat my lips in black lipstick and stick some neon yellow eyelashes on the untouched eye, along with some neon pick eyeliner.

  Yeah, I know, I’m a freak show when it comes to concert makeup.

  I walk into the living room where a black covered chick waits on our couch.   She has black eye sockets, black lips, and an upside-down cross slathered on her forehead.

  “Satanic much?” I ask, a little creeped out by her makeup.

  “Barbie much?” she replies, rising and grabbing the keys from the coffee table, tossing me mine.

  “We’re not taking the truck?” I ask, a little skeptical.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m riding in style.”

  We lock up the house and Chelle gets on her bike. Mine, my own Harley, is beautiful.  I got the black Softail in Pennsylvania at a yard sale and fixed her up.  Man, I loved this thing.

  I pulled the helmet over my head, careful not to smudge my makeup, stuck the key into the ignition, and zoomed onto the main road.  I loved riding, especially on the sharp curves of backroads.

  I know the way to venue by heart, I have been there like forty times.

  When we pulled into the parking lot, I knew we hit it big time, because there were hardly any cars around. We race to the booth area and hand the guy our V.I.P tickets.  He directs us into a little hallway that is crowded with people waiting on their turn to see the band.

  I am so excited I can barely breath!

  Chelle harps on me a few times for being to fidgety. I tell her to “Fuck off, I’m excited.”

  We wait for at least two hours, and we are the last people in line to meet them. We walk through a door into a little room, and there, right in front of me, is Shavo Odadjian, the bass player for my favorite band of all time.  He smiles and comes forward to shake my hand. I take it and smile warmly.

  “I’m Daron Elizabeth, it is very, very cool to meet you, Sir.” I practically yell. He laughs.

  “You mean to tell me your first name is the exact first name as our lead guitar player, and he is a boy?”

  “Y-Yeah.” I stutter. “I had gender-confused parents when it came to naming me, I guess.”

  He throws his head back and laughs again, his long beard bouncing.  “That’s great, that’s so awesome! Hey Daron, come meet Daron!” Shavo shakes hands with Chelle.

  Someone tapes me on the shoulder and I turn, coming face to face to my idol, Daron Malakian.

  Oh. My. Fucking. GOD!

  He is wearing nothing but black suspenders and long skinny pants in the same color.

  I can practically feel my eyes bulging out of my head from his sheer hotness.

  “h-h-hi.” I start to stutter violently in my nervousness. He gives me a small smile and walks away.


  “Hello, Doll.  It’s quite lovely to meet you. I’m Serj Tankian.”

  I turn once again to see the lead singer and I almost faint.

 I reach my hand out to shake, not trusting myself with words anymore.

  “What’s your name, Honey?” He called me Honey. And Doll. Oh my god!

  This time I have to speak. “D-Daron Eliz-zabeth. Sir.” I add hastily.

  “Now, now, none of this’ Sir’ business! Just Call me Serj!” he smiled, and oh, his smile! His eyes cringle at the edges and his white teeth practically blind me.

  “O-okay.” Dammit! Stop stuttering!  “um, I really enjoy your music.  This will sound really cheesy, but you guys kinda-sorta inspired me to play guitar, and one of the first songs I could play was Chop Suey!  I even ordered a book that I thought was tabs but it was just sheet music and I can’t read sheet music so I was really upset, but I didn’t send it back because a guitar book full of your songs is really bomb-diggity, you know?  And your message?  Don’t even get me started!  On every April 14 I get permission from my teachers to give a little speech about the Armenian Genocide and I really love helping people learn about it, and at the end of every speech I tell everyone about you guys. Well, I used to, I’m not in school anymore, and, oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ramble!” I laugh, full of embarrassment. I feel my cheeks get hot.

  He smiles warmly and holds his arms out for a hug.  He moves forward.  His arms wrap around me and I go stiff for a second.  Then, I return the hug and die inside from pure happiness.

  Hot damn!  I’m hugging Serj Tankian!

  The embrace is short lived, and we both pull away with smiles on our faces.

  “That is one of the best things a fan has ever told me.  Thank you so much for contributing to our cause.  You can’t possibly know how much that means to us all.” He grinned and proceeds to tell the rest of the band what I just told him.

  I don’t like the attention, even from them so I shift more and more behind Serj until I feel hidden.

  “Hey, Baby, don’t hide from us.  Don’t be shy.” I hear a voice.  I peek over Serj’s shoulder to see Daron smiling and beckoning me to come out.  Serj turns around and shoves me foreword a little bit.

  I gulp and look away, not wanting Daron to see my blush.

  He touches my cheek and moves it to face him.


  I look anywhere but at him. I look at his shoes, no, too close. I look at the floor. Shit! That’s Serj’s shoes! I give up and close my eyes, the blush on my cheeks becoming uncomfortable with heat.

  He gives my cheek a little shake, barely enough to feel.  I squeeze my eyes tighter.

  “Open those eyes.”  I give myself three seconds to gather my bravery.


  I try and clear my thoughts.  That doesn’t work in the slightest.


  Come on Daron!  Just look at him!  He can’t hurt you!  His gaze can’t hurt you!


  I look at where I think the floor will be, and open them.  Daron must have anticipated that, because his face is dipped below my chin, and I am forced to look directly at him.

  I gulp quite loudly.

  “Thank you, Baby.” He stands up straight and walks away, letting his fingers graze my cheek until he can no longer reach it.

  I stand there, not moving, staring at the wall in which he disappeared.

  Someone touches my shoulder and I jump wildly.

  I turn to see John Dolmayan, the band’s drummer. “Dude! I just realized if you two got married your name would be Mrs. Daron Daron Malakian!  If I didn’t see the chemistry, I would ship it for that alone!”

  “I hear that Dolmayan! Don’t make me push you into the mosh pit!” Daron yelled.

  “It has been shipped!” John continued as if no has said anything. “Wait, if you get married, I can’t say, this is Daron and Daron, we need to find you a nickname!  What about Ron?   No, too boyish, too Harry Potter. How’s Arine?  Nah, too girly for you, I mean look at your badass makeup!  Still, you are shy, maybe it could work.”

  “I always call her Dare.” Chelle chimed in.  I completely forgot about her!  Man, I’m an ass!  “Dude, no matter which way we put it, their ship name is still Daron!” everyone is laughing, and I find myself trying to hide behind Serj again, but I am pulled away by John.

  “Don’t you like him?” He asked expectantly.

  “I-I C-Can’t answer That-t-t!” I can’t stop stuttering.  My entire body is shaking.

  “Aww!” everybody is cooing.

  I can’t take this!

  “No!  I mean, I don’t know!  I mean- wait what?” I look at the floor.

  My idols, the people I look up to, are laughing at me.  Mocking me.  Making fun of me. This went terrible. I was so hoping that this would be the best moment of my life. I guess not.

  I feel tears welling in my eyes, and I put every ounce of my strength into keeping them from falling.  I can’t cry in front of them. I can’t cry in front of anyone. I’m not a weak ass bitch.

  One slides down my cheek.

  Why am I being such a big baby?  I am acting like a child!

  No one sees it, and I am able to wipe it away without anyone noticing.

  “Goddamn! Leave her alone! Can’t you see your upsetting her?” Daron storms into the room and shoves John to the floor.

  Oh god! I am making them fight! I am Such a big wreck!

  Daron marches over with a look of pure rage, and I fully expect to feel a blow. He sees this. His features soften and he pulls me toward him.


  I look away.

  “Don’t let these morons get to you, they don’t know anything.”                                                     

  “I’m sorry.” I say trying to pull away.

  “For what?”

   His grip is like iron!

  “I didn’t mean to make you guys fight.”

  “Worry not my dear lady! John needs a beating regularly.” He says, puffing his chest with a stern look on his face.

  I chuckle and shove him away. I walk to Chelle and standby her. We talk and laugh the rest of the time until Shavo speaks up.

 “Alright guys it’s time for you to go.”

 “Now wait a minute, maybe they should stay longer.”  John pipped in.

 “But we have to get ready.”  Shavo protests.

  “I’m sure they would enjoy seeing that.”

  “we’re not porn stars you babbling twit!”  Serj says angrily.  “besides, we still have to watch the movie!”

  “Come on!  Let ‘em stay!

  “Why?” Daron sks.

  “I like them!”

  “I don’t mind if they stay.” Daron states.

  “well, I guess I’m not opposed to that.” Shavo puts in.

 “well?” they all ask Serj in unison.


 “We’re not some drugged-up whores who want to see you naked!” I shout.

 “Don’t worry pumpkin, we know you want to look.” John says, waggling his eyebrows up and down.

  I look at him with disgust and turn to leave.

  “Wait!  I was just kidding!  Dare?  Please stay!” He yells.

  I whip around and march up and poke him on the forehead. “I will not watch your skanky ass undress!”

  A chorus of “oohs” erupt from the guys.

  “alright, I’m sorry. It was just a joke.” He says, moving my arm to my side.

  “What movie are we watching?” Chelle asked.

  “You’ll see. It’s kind of a tradition we do before every show.”  Serj says.  “you’ll enjoy it, trust me.”

  “By the way,” John starts. “I believe that skanky ass is more of a women insult.”

  I ignore him.

  Serj makes us all stand in a line in front of the door. He explains the rules, then yells go.

  We all race to the couch. Everyone claims a seat but me, so I have to slide the disk in the DVD player.

  I go to sit in the floor, but Daron stops me. He grabs me by the waist and pulls me onto his lap.



  This is a scary movie! Oh no! I hate, hate, hate, scary movies!

  I get halfway through, but when the little creepy ass girl pops out, I scream and throw my face into Daron’s shirt.

  I feel his chest rumble with laughter and he puts an arm around my shoulder and starts to pat my back, which is oddly comforting.

  After a while, he rests his arm, and it slides down my spine until it lands in his lap, where my butt is. I give a little shiver.

  I hope he didn’t feel that.

  Every time the movie makes a loud noise, I involuntarily clench my hands, which sends my nails into poor Daron’s shoulders.

  He doesn’t even flinch.

 After the movie is over, he has to shake me to release my muscles. I slowly get off of him.

  “I guess you don’t like horror films.”

  “Not in the least.”

  The Guys shoed us away so they could get ready, but not before Daron asked for my number.

  Holy Shit! He must Like ME! What the Fucking God’s of awesome did they shit into a cup and poured into my blood of life? (that was strangely graphic, maybe I need therapy).

  We left backstage to the front row of the crowd.

  The band opened with P.L.U.C.K.

  The crowd is pulsing rhythmically, head banging, hardcore dancing. It is a sea of excitement, a place that can’t be replicating. Metal concerts are like this.

  I can’t help but to follow along with the rest of the crowd. I made my way to the mosh pit and threw myself into a random man. I ricochet into some huge guy, then I ran as fast as I could into the next person.

  The song, Lonely Day begins and even the ones in the Pit stop for a moment to wave glow sticks, or phones, or lighters.

  Personally, I like Daron’s voice more than Serj’s and I think that he should sing more songs. Not that I don’t like Serj, I mean, I love the band equally, I just think it would be more fair.

  I lose track of time, of everything. I forget what year it is, what age I am, my name.

  Who am I? what separates me from the rest of the souls floating above our bodies? My mind leaves my body and joins the other minds.

  I am now a shell that moves and listens.

  What other songs the band produces, I can’t say. How long I moshed, I don’t know.

  When I finally do leave the pit, it takes a while for my mind to reconnect to my body. When it does, I find myself back at the front of the stage with Michelle.

  The concert is over.

  Instead of leaving with the rest of the mob, we lay down in the grass and rest. We know from experience that it takes at least two hours for the venue to disperse, and an hour more for the parking lot to empty.

  So rather than enduring that, we just chill for a while. Not thinking.

  When I wake up, it is time to go.

  We ride our bikes home and plop on the couch, watching SpongeBob, not bothering to wash our faces.

  Yes, I know, a twenty-three-year-old such as myself should not be watching this, let alone my twenty-eight-year-old aunt.

  I don’t care, I love it. ‘tis my guilty pleasure.

  Fifteen episodes later, we get a knock on the door.

  Ugh! It’s three o’clock in the morning!

  Michelle rises and goes to the door.

  A few seconds later, her voice reaches my ears.

  “Dare, come here.”

  “what is it, I don’t want to get up!”  yell, frustrated.

  “Get over here!”

  “Come on! I feel like I have been in an orgy with all straight guys where I’m the only female!” I yell, not caring who hears me.

  “GET YOUR ASS UP!” she bellows.

  I roll off of the couch into the floor and use the cushions to pull myself up. I stumble to the front door and nearly faint. “Hot damn.”

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