Chapter 4
Clark stared at the contents of his closet with apprehension. He actually had the required clothing elements. It was just...
What the heck had he been thinking?
He hadn't been. No thinking whatsoever. He'd looked right at her nervous yet excited smile and desperately grabbed at the first available option. Dinner and a movie would have been better than this. Preferable. So much more preferable that he almost wanted to just call Lois and change plans. But he'd spent $200 on this—non-refundable. And Lois had looked rather excited about the band. So clearly she was a fan, and if that was the case, he was downright thrilled that he'd lucked into such great tickets for a band she loved.
Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself. He'd survived blasts from nuclear reactors. He could survive a Pearl Jam concert. Especially for Lois.
So...Jimmy had called them a grunge band. And grunge apparently was all the rage. There were times when Clark didn't feel like Jimmy was all that much younger than him, and he wasn't, really. But last night, he might as well have been Jimmy's father.
"Sweet!!" Jimmy had exclaimed while grabbing Clark by the shoulders excitedly, and Clark had been extra glad for his invulnerability. Taking Lois to Pearl Jam was 'epic'. And dressing for it was 'simple'. Because grunge was apparently all about jeans and flannel.
And Clark had jeans. And he had flannel shirts.
Had worn them plenty of times. Practically grew up wearing them. It was essentially the Kansas farmer's uniform. But how it qualified as grunge, he had no clue.
He shrugged and grabbed a blue and green plaid flannel off a hanger and a pair of his best blue jeans out of his dresser. He set his choices on the bed for later, after he shaved and took a shower.
For now, though, he still had hours left in the day before he needed to get ready. Hours and hours. More time wasn't always a good thing. That meant more time to worry about how things were going to go.
But enough of that, he told himself. He had homework to do. If Lois was a fan, he could do this. He would listen to the latest album and he would learn the songs. Some of them. Okay, he would listen to all of them. And...if he had time and could stand it, he would try to learn the lyrics. After all, any one of these songs could be Lois' favourite song.
Maybe he should have asked her which ones were her favourite so he'd only have to learn a few. That was something mutual fans of a band talked about, their favourite songs, right? His eyes drifted over to the phone. She was at work today...he could just give her a quick call. Would that be too obvious? Yeah, that would be too obvious if the only songs he knew were the ones she'd said were her favourites. He just needed to learn more of them.
Had he...? Suddenly Clark couldn't even remember if he'd told her he was a fan. Why was he pretending he was one? To impress her? Win her favour by also loving a band she loved?
Yep. To impress her. He'd do anything to impress her.
Even, apparently, take her to a Pearl Jam concert for their first date.
Okay, this wouldn't be that hard. It was literally a night hanging out with Lois. As his date. Date. How hard could it be?
Clark opened the CD case of the Vitalogy album. Thankfully, Jimmy had had the latest album for him to borrow, as well as a few of their older ones. But Vitalogy was the album they were touring. He hit play and took the CD case over to the couch and sat down.
Last Exit. Okay...was this music? Would it kill the guy to enunciate? Oh, please let there be lyrics in the liner notes. He pulled out the glossy paper, unfolding it and turning it around and around...and around. No lyrics. Now Vedder was screaming. Oh, thank goodness. It's over.
Spin the Black Circle. More screaming. He couldn't fathom Lois liking this...this...noise. Was this song about taking drugs? Clark winced and wondered idly if ear plugs would even work for him. If you took away the scratchy yelling, the music itself wasn't that bad, though a bit repetitive. Maybe Lois liked working out to these songs because they were angry sounding and motivated her to work harder, run faster?
Not For You. Oh, this one wasn't as bad. Nice, even. Because he wasn't screeching. While he found himself agreeing with the song's message that innocence was hard to hang onto in a society that insisted on commodifying everything, it would be nice to hear a melody in even one of the songs. Ah, there was the screaming, low-key screaming at the end. Why was this song almost six minutes long?
Better Man. This one! He knew this one from the radio, and the music was easier on the ears for sure. The meaning was...well, he hadn't really paid attention to the lyrics before, but now that he had...it made him think about all the women he couldn't help, for whom his powers were useless.
Despite the loud noise and nearly unintelligible screaming that aimed to pass as singing for some songs...it seemed like Eddie Vedder was quite the lyricist and social activist.
Maybe that was what attracted Lois to the band, their social messaging, their agenda? That made more sense than anything else. Women's right to choose. Animal rights. Opposing the death penalty. He had to respect them for their views and how they used their fame to spread the messaging about important issues. He just...really, really wished the music wasn't an assault on his ears.
He turned the album over in his hands to look at the cover again. Vitalogy. The study of life...life's doctrine? Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad. His ears might be ringing for days, but at least he'd be with Lois, and he could enjoy it vicariously through her.
Clark finished listening to the CD and then popped in one of their previous albums. He listened to each twice through, and he thought he at least had the choruses memorised for about a dozen songs. That would have to do because now it was time to get ready.
Before that, though, he decided it would be a good idea to do a quick patrol of the city, show his cape around different parts of town to try and discourage would-be criminals. Two thwarted muggings and a kitten saved from a storm drain later, Clark was back in his apartment and getting ready for his date.
He gave himself an extra-close shave in the mirror before taking his time in the shower. After spinning into his grunge attire, he realised he wasn't sure if he was sure if he was supposed to tuck in his shirt or not. Given that grunge meant dirty and grimy, Clark figured untucked was the safer bet. Plus, he could always look around and see what everyone else had done with their flannel shirts.
Would Lois be wearing flannel too? Ripped jeans and flannel wasn't exactly the outfit he'd fantasised about her wearing on a first date, but then, he was hardly wearing his best suit, either.
Not for the first time since rashly purchasing these concert tickets, Clark was lamenting the fact that he hadn't just kept it simple with a romantic dinner at a nice restaurant. That, he knew how to dress for. Knew how to navigate. Knew how it was supposed to begin and end, for the most part.
Concerts were unfamiliar territory. A terrible choice for a first date, unless it had been an orchestral concert, a jazz concert...anything but a band he hardly knew and a genre that was a complete mystery to him.
Dinner was the home field advantage of dates. Pearl Jam was...an away game in a land of which he didn't know the culture nor speak the language.
But he'd done all he could—from wardrobe advice from Jimmy to learning as many songs as he could. Now—hopefully—all that was left was to enjoy the night with Lois. And that...that shouldn't be hard at all.
Clark grabbed his wallet, debated briefly but decided yes on cologne, and headed for the door. He strolled over to Lois' apartment, equal parts excited and nervous. He figured they'd take a cab to the concert, save Lois from driving and worry about parking, so he'd scheduled one for shortly after he picked her up.
He approached Lois' door just before 6 o'clock, and he knocked as he normally did but for the kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering in his chest. “I've still got thirty seconds,” he could hear her call through the door, and he smiled. God, he loved her.
The bundle of energy and beauty that was the love of his life opened the door, swinging it wide open...and said something about the time, but he couldn't be sure what because he was captivated by the vision standing before him.
His eyes were drawn first to the deep burgundy of her lips, and for a moment, he allowed himself to imagine kissing those lips. The creamy skin of her neck and shoulders and collarbone was flawless, exposed by the black tank top with impossibly thin straps. Her long legs disappeared under a tastefully short, black mini-skirt, and she was wearing some sort of chunky, industrial boots that were somehow also a clean and stylish black. And there was flannel. But somehow, she made it hopelessly sexy, the long-sleeved red and black shirt was tied around her waist, accenting the whole outfit.
"Clark?"
"Huh?" He'd been staring. Blatantly, rudely staring...but the bashful and slightly amused smile on her face told him she didn't exactly mind.
"Hey," she said, and her voice had that flirty lilt to it that drove him crazy. “You ready to go?”
