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♪♫ You've been coolin', and baby, I've been droolin', all the good times, baby, I've been misusin' ♪♫
A tale of Rock Gods, Groupies, and a love that becomes more sincere when kept secret ♪♫ Jealousy feeds the beast inside us all ♪♫

Thursday, November 22, 2012

You Better

Bonzo had finished his drumkit assult and was now looking up at me expectantly. "How was that?" he panted, pulling his long hair behind his ear.

"Fine," I replied politely, "but no one can beat the drumkit harder than Keith Moon-- quite literally."

"Keith?" a voice behind me asked, catching both John and I off guard and making me jump with fright. Jimmy was standing at the doorway of Bozo's room, holding tightly to the door frame. I nodded toward him and he continued, "You like Moonman, ey?"

"Yeah, his drumming is brilliant," I replied. Jimmy took a step into the room and stopped. Bonzo stood  and made his way around the drumkit to sit on the side of his bed.

"I can invite him over-- if you'd like," Jimmy stated. My heart-rate increased and Jimmy continued, "We're great mates, me and him. If you want to meet him, he could come over for a set some time."

"Sure!" I breathed, excited. "He's the greatest musician to ever have graced the Earth!" Jimmy shot me a genuinely happy smile and grabbed the doorway again.

"Expect to meet Moon the Loon some time soon."

♫♪♫♪♫♪♫

I sat at the kitchen island quietly. No one ever went into the kitchen unless they were hungry and the chefs were out, so it was a prime place for me to sit for some peace and quiet. Bianca had been getting on my nerves lately, complaining about Jimmy's behavior. Why, just the two days ago she was livid when she had found out he was married to a French model and had a daughter named Scarlet.

"In all the years he could have mentioned it over the phone or in his letters, he never told me he was a father," Bianca complained, sprawled on the plum-colored carpet in Jimmy's bed chamber while I sat in the window nook a few feet from the bed. "Honestly! How do you simply 'forget'? Personally, I think he just forgot. He must be a terrible father!"

The door to the master bedroom opened and both Bianca and I flinched. John Paul Jones' head popped out from behind the door and eyed us both expectantly. "Is Pagey in here?"

Bianca sat up. "He and Robbie are out. Again. I have to work in a few hours and I won't get to see him all day."

"Oh," Jonesy sighed, ignoring Bianca's complaint. He entered the room and closed the door behind him quickly. With his back pressed to the door, he said, "You both know it's Planty's birthday, correct?"

"Yeah," I called, "Jimmy said he was planning something."

Bianca threw her hands up and grunted. "He told you, of course, but not me!"

Again, Jonesy ignored her. "Roger Daltrey, Keith Richards, Mick, Roger Waters, and I believe some others are coming over. He'll be 24. Jimmy's keeping him busy; I need both of you to help set up!"

"I'm not helping if Jimmy's involved," Bianca spat. "He's being a bugger lately."

Honestly, it was like Jonesy didn't know she was there. Still looking at me, he asked, "Can you help Bonzo and I decorate the living room?"

"I would love to!" I replied eagerly, hopping to my feet. "I get to meet Mick Jagger!?"

Jonesy nodded and I followed him out the door, the sound of "Great, I work on Robert's birthday!?" being left behind in the room. 

I took a bite of my apple pensively. The pale green walls made me imagine I was in a forest some place far off. I wondered why I wasn't taking a walk out in the woods with Robert like he had invited, but I was content. That is, until Robert walked into the kitchen, the smell of outside fresh on his jacket. He smiled at me, took an apple from the bowl on the island, tossed it up and caught it, then sat beside me and took a large bite from it.

"Nice brisk walk," he said between chews. "You should have joined me. It's nice outside. The paper says it'll be warm tomorrow-- Bonzo, Pagey, John and I are all going for a dip tomorrow in the pond. Jimmy named it Arcane Pond; said it had something to do with The Occult and Zoso. I don't quite understand it, personally..." He took another bite of apple. "Where's Bianca and the other ladies?"

"Maureen and Patricia are out shopping," I replied. "Bianca's at Abbey Road working." Robert nodded understandingly and took another bite of the apple. I smiled at him and he grinned.

"Why don't you get on with the other girls?" Robert asked. "I'd bring my Maureen over to live here, but she wants to stay home with Karac and Carmen. Lovely woman, she is. Bianca doesn't understand the complexity of musicians alike Pagey, Bonzo, John and I. We love our wives, we really do. But when you're on the road--" he took another bite, "--you need to make a choice right then; do I want to be a good, faithful  gentleman who carries on through life playing heavy music or do I want to except the perks? Ole Bonzey's a smart bastard; he chose to be a gentleman. Jimmy and I? We're fucking fools, no matter how fantastic the perks. But at the end of the day, our wives know we'll always come home. Bianca doesn't understand that and she's expecting too much of Jimmy."

"I swear, you just said everything that was pressing me," I laughed, setting the apple on the counter and hopping off my seat to trek toward the wine rack for something to drink. "Bianca's riding my nerves. I love her, but there's just this... this thing about her and Jimmy that infuriates me."

"You're not jealous, are you?" Robert asked, his voice echoing around the spacious kitchen. I gave a snort of laughter as I poured myself and Robert a glass of Raspberry wine. "That's the sign of a jealous dragon, my dear."

I replaced the wine and brought the two glasses to the island. "I'm not jealous. I- I don't even like Jimmy that much. My favorite person in the band is actually you."

"I'm flattered," Robert said, taking a sip of wine with an ugly pucker. "Thank you for the wine, but I think I prefer Jack."

"Just drink it," I laughed. "So we're all going to the pond tomorrow? What did Jimmy call it? Arcade?"

"Arcane," Robert corrected politely, taking the final salvageable bite from his apple. "Yeah. We need a photographer! I'm sure the birds would love pictures of us down in our skives."

"I'm a professional photographer," I told Robert excitedly. "So all these weeks I could have been taking every one's pictures?"

"You never said you were a photographer! Bring your camera tomorrow; we'll have a candid day. What do you say?"

"Sounds fantastic!"

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