Chapter 27
The gig they were play was on the campus of the University of Washington. So when the I-90 came to and end, Schnieder veered the bus right on to the I-5. It took thirty-five minutes to get to the U district. Finally, the bus rolled into the parking lot of the hotel.
“Jesus Christ, the traffic in this town sucks.” Schnieder exclaimed.
Ass appeared from the back of the bus for the first time since he went back to cry. Quickly, he walked through the bus and out the door without saying a word to anyone.
“Eddie?” Ben queried softly.
But Ass was already to the lobby door. Ronnie was right behind him and they approached the desk together.
“Hi, you have a reservation for Harrison?” Ronnie asked the man behind the desk.
“One moment, sir.” The man responded crisply. “Yes, four rooms.”
“Can we get five rooms instead?” Ass asked meekly.
Ronnie turned and stared at Ass for a moment. He shook his head and turned to the desk clerk.
“Yeah…uh…five rooms.” Ronnie repeated.
“Certainly, we have an extra room.” The front desk man said. “Just for tonight, correct?”
“Yes, just tonight.” Ronnie confirmed.
The rest of the group arrived at the desk.
“Just one key for each room?” The clerk asked.
“Yeah.” Ass replied.
“But Eddie …” Ben started.
“I got my own room.” Ass stated flatly.
They all stood in silence as the desk clerk created the magnetic keys. When he finished one, he put the key in its individual envelop and wrote the room number on it. Ass he placed it on the counter, Ass reached out, grabbed the key and walked to the stairwell. Even though the room was on the seventh floor, he didn’t want to wait for the elevator and risk having to ride up with Ben.
Running up the seven flights of stairs, Ass arrived before the elevator. Quickly, he made his way to his room, slid the card key into the lock and opened the door just as the bell for the elevator sounded. Ducking into his room, he closed the door, leaned back against it and sunk down to the floor.
They knew, they all knew that he and Ben had sex because he told them. This was not what he expected when this all started. At first, he had been shocked by Ben’s accusations. After he thought it through, he did feel as though he loved Ben. Actually, he knew he loved Ben, but the giddiness of the realization had evaporated when he realized that he really had sex with another man. Maybe it was no big deal to others, but he had never thought he was gay. He didn’t feel gay. Even when he was hugging Ben at the show, he had been looking at the large breasted woman.
How was he going to be able to face them? How could he possibly ever look Ben in the eyes again? This was not good, not good at all. He just needed a bit. Maybe after they got in the groove tonight, things would be different.
“Yeah, we just have to play together.” He thought. “Then everything will be cool.”
There was a sharp knock on the door that jolted Ass out of his daydream.
“Rehearsal in a half hour.” Ronnie said. “Be in the lobby in twenty minutes. We’re walking.”
“Cool.” Ass replied.
When they met in the lobby, Ass was the last to arrive. As soon as he walked up, the rest of the group joined him as he went straight for the door. He knew where they were going and he just kept walking.
“Eddie, are you going to talk to me?’ Ben asked.
“Not now.” Ass replied.
“But Eddie …” Ben pled.
“Not now, Ben.” Ass said emphatically. “Not now.”
They continued into the arena without another word. Pete and Ronnie felt too uncomfortable to speak. Ben was still trying to figure out what had transpired. One minute, he was basking in the warm afterglow of utterly satisfying sex. The next, he felt as if he had been used and discarded.
As the group approached the stage, they saw that Schnieder and the locals had made a great deal of progress on the stage. This was a huge step up for them. Instead of playing a medium size venue as the main band, they were the support band for a much more established act. That meant all of their equipment was set up in front of the equipment of the main attraction.
Unlike most new bands, Ratdick had very nice equipment. Mainly Because Big Ron had wanted to give his son the best possible chance at success. In fact their equipment was obviously better than the headliner’s.
“This is a trip, eh?” Ronnie said.
“No, shit.” Pete said as he looked up and slowly walked around in a tight circle.
“This place is fucking huge.” Ronnie exclaimed. “I wonder how the sound is.”
Pete hopped up on the stage, walked over to his guitar stands and picked up his white fender Stratocaster. Throwing the strap over his shoulder, he turned to his band mates.
“Let’s find out, boys.” He said excitedly. “Schnieder, we live?”
“Fuckin’ A.” Schnieder replied.
Pete’s fingers struck the strings once, then the adrenaline kicked in and he ripped off a quick powerful riff.
“Let’s go.” He said again to his seemingly paralyzed brethren.
Ronnie joined him on stage, followed quickly by Ben. Ass stood in front of the stage as if he was caught in the suction of a very powerful pump. Not only was he unable to break away, he seemed to be getting sucked backward.
“Yo, bitch.” Pete shouted. “You in the game, Ass?”
The words stung him like a bucket of ice cold water. Quickly, he jumped on the stage and positioned himself behind his drum set.
As he tuned his Les Paul, Ronnie looked around and saw that everyone was set. Methodically, Pete strummed and the twisted the tuner slightly. Ben was doing runs on his base and ass was rap-tap-tapping on his snare.
“Slowly Descending into Darkness.” Ronnie stated authoritatively. “One, two, three.”
The sound simply exploded from two members of the quartet. Ronnie chose this song because it was slow and heavy. The plodding music was the right combination to settle them down and to tune with long notes. It wasn’t right. They were off. Looking at Pete, he saw his partner in the front was definitely in the groove. As though they were thinking with the same brain, he turned to look at Ronnie. Together, they turned around. It looked as if Ben was going to be sick and Ass just looked pissed.
Both guitarists stopped almost simultaneously. Realizing that they were off and they just weren’t going to get there.
“Whoa.” Ronnie said. “Again. One, two, three.”
Once again, the two guitarists began in perfect synchronization. This time both of them were facing the rhythm section so they could see what was happening. It only took fifteen seconds. Pete and Ronnie stopped again.
“Come on.” Ronnie said.
“It’s him.” Ass mumbled.
“What?” Ben asked indignantly.
“Who cares?” Ronnie asked. “Again. One, two, three.”
They kicked it off again. The result was pretty much the same. Not ever experiencing this before, Ronnie wasn’t quite sure what to do. Looking at Pete, they both thought they would just keep playing it. Maybe, they could play through this. Playing the entire song, they were not happy with how it sounded.
“Let’s go up tempo.” Ronnie said trying to get this rehearsal kicked started. “Ripped from My Lips. One, two.”
They hit the punky beat and it seemed a little better. Midway through the song it completely fell apart.
“What’s with you two?” Ronnie queried the rhythm section.
“He’s fuckin’ up.” Ass accused as he nodded his head toward Ben.
“No, I’m not.” Ben said defensively.
“Bullshit, you can’t keep up.” Ass continued his indictment. “You’re off a beat.”
“Bullshit, you’re varying the beat.” Ben said angrily.
Normally, Ben might try to adjust to anomaly in the rhythm. Then againg, it would usually only happen for a few bars. But he could tell, Ass was doing this on purpose. He wasn’t sure why Ass was being such a jerk today, but he wasn’t going to let anyone – not even Eddie – tell him his rhythm was off. It simply meant too much to him.
“Come on …” Pete started.
“Get you shit together, Ben.” Ass hissed.
“What is your problem?” Ben asked.
“You’re my problem.” Ass replied viciously.
“Why?” Ben asked. “Because I let you fuck me?”
“Let me?” Ass screamed as he stood up squeezing his sticks so tightly his fingers were turning white. “You fucked me up with all that “You love me and you know it” shit. All you wanted was dick.”
“What?” Ben said completely taken off guard by the assault.
“That’s right, you fuckin homo.” Ass said almost coming completely unglued. “You tricked me.”
It wasn't the first time Ben had been called a homo or a fag, but this time it cut much deeper. Wanting to give Ass the benefit of the doubt, he didn’t respond. Not that he had time.
“Look.” Ronnie said sternly. “I don’t care who fucked who or who tricked who or what-the-fuck-ever happened. It happened and you two gotta deal with it. But not here and not now – GOT IT. We are professionals. We are getting paid ten thousand dollars each tonight and we are going to earn it. Because I am not going to be a one shot and out guy. Ratdick is here for the long-term. OKAY?
They other three members of the band stood looking at Ronnie in disbelief. They all had noticed the change in him over the last few days, but none of them expected this type of leadership from him. He told them what they were going to do and they were sure they were going to do it.
“Let’s play Debbie and get past this - now.” He instructed. “One, two, three, four.”
Out it came and it was tight. Ass and Ben were finally in synch. Pete sounded good. Now Ronnie could catch the groove and enjoy.
“Much better.” He said as the song came to an end. “That’s it.”
Knowing they had to address this now, Ronnie was determined to talk to the rest of the band. But he knew they needed to get mentally prepared, so he did want to open the entire can of worms.
“Look, I understand you guys are going through some shit, okay.” Ronnie said gently. “But it’s like, we have this show and you need to be on. We’ll work through this together tomorrow. Please, just go to your rooms, order some room service and hang out until the show. Use the emotion in the music, all right?”
“Sure, dude.” Ass said apologetically.
“Cool.” Ben said.
“I’m going to check the sound with Schnieder.” Ronnie said as he jumped off the stage and walked over to the sound station.
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The four of them were waiting in the wings. Nervously, Ass pounded his legs with his sticks. Ronnie rolled his neck and shook his arms. Ben cracked his knuckles. Strangely, Pete just leaned up against the leg and looked to see if he had a hangnail.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Ratdick!” The announcer said.
They hustled into position. Without a sound, they launched into “Ripped from My Lips”. Instantly, Pete was into it. His fingers were ripping the sound from the strings and smashing it into the pickups which amplified the music causing sonic vibrations that drove the crowd into frenzy.
Just as he was about to fall over the edge into the dreamscape created by his talented manual digits, he saw them. There they were right in front of him, down and to the left. Both of them were completely filling his vision. It was Emily’s beautiful breast. Not surprisingly, they were attached to Emily. Standing right next to her was Chelsea. Overtaken by extreme joy, Pete fell in to the music head first and he didn’t come back for almost an hour. The only thing he felt was the waves of sonic bliss that continued to pour over him.
Ronnie was close to joining Pete. They were on fire tonight. Quickly, they were approaching the level they had played at in Spokane on the previous night. He had no idea that they could get up so high and exceed even their best previous performance, but they were. But he was worried about the boys. Finally, he couldn’t resist it any longer, the pull was too strong. He flew over the edge into the weightlessness of the wall of sound that they created.
Taking out all of his pent up frustrations, Ass pounded his drum kit. Even when he splintered stick after stick, he continued to beat them mercilessly. The driving rhythm began to sooth him. Feelingly the endorphin rush, he fell into compete synchronization with Ben. It was as if they had become one. They were absolutely perfect.
The only other time Ben felt as he did during this set was when Eddie had been deep inside him, stroking him to orgasm. The entire night he felt as if he was on the edge, In fact, he had an erection. Pulling his bass close, he slid up and down against it. It wasn’t the first time he had done this, but it was the first time it felt like real sex.
Sensing the energy emitted by the quartet, the crowd was going absolutely insane. The mosh was no-holds-barred intensity. Unlike in Spokane, Emily’s breasts weren’t the only ones protruding from the confines of material. In fact, there were at least four women with their tops around their waists. Dozens of anonymous hands stroking and grabbing at them didn’t seem to hamper the enthusiasm of the women. The sexually intensity was palatable. It drove the passion of the moment even higher. The crowd had grown into a organism greater than the sum of its parts.
One man made his way onstage completely unnoticed by anyone in the band. As he approached Ronnie, Schnieder appeared from no where. Initially, his thought was to take the guy out. But then he realized the context of the situation and he merely helped the man back into the audience with a gentle but firm push. Luckily, the crowd was waiting with outstretched arms and they surfed him to the back of the mosh pit.
Suddenly and without warning, it stopped both sound and light. Without the driving force, the crowd quickly became confused. The moshing fell into immediate disarray with just a touch of pushing and shoving. Restlessly, the crowd sought out something, anything in the darkness.
One spotlight flicked on illuminating Ronnie in front of the microphone. Slowly, he tuned his guitar as if he was searching for something. The crowd waited in eager anticipation. Falsely, they believed they were going to get a slight respite. The sudden explosion of sound and light almost knocked the collective crowd off their feet.
Within a moment, they recovered and began moshing with an intensified urgency. Sweaty bodies slammed into sweaty bodies. Hands landed on breast, bottoms, penises, some accidentally some quite purposely. Those from the outside slammed to the center. Those in the center attempted to burrow their way out only to slam themselves back into the center. Bedlam ruled and they loved it. They continued to mash themselves together into mass of flesh, sweat and clothing. The longer the song went, the greater the concentration of energy. By the time they finished, Ratdick was completely exhausted. The crowd was spent as well. But they managed to show their enthusiastic approval of the set.
As the band made their way off stage, they felt fantastic. It was a complete rush listening to the chaotic response. This was the reason all four of them were here. To get to this previously unattainable level of perfection driven by a group of young, crazy musically obsessed fanatics.
“Top of the world, dude.” Pete said out loud. “Hey, did ya see ‘em?”
“Who?” Ronnie asked.
“Emily and Chelsea are here.” Pete said excitedly. “I told them we were playing here. I guess they decided to drive over from Spokane. Gotta get ‘em back here.”
Instantly, Pete was gone looking for Schnieder to get Emily and Chelsea back stage. Turning around, Ronnie was confronted by a man he had never seen before standing uncomfortably close to him.
“What the fuck was that?” The man barked.
“Huh, what the fuck was what?” Ronnie replied.
“You had an hour and you played for almost 70 minutes.” The man continued.
“Who are you?” Ronnie asked confused.
“I’m Johnny Simms.” The man said as if the name should mean something to him.
Not recalling the name, Ronnie looked as if he stared hard enough the context would come to him. Instead, he replied in worst possible way.
“Who?” He asked.
“Johnny Simms, the leader singer in Storm Damage.” He said indignantly.
“Oh, yeah sorry.” Ronnie said sincerely. “I remember now. Really sorry, we just got in to in and ran a bit long. I’ll make sure we get our stuff off quickly so you can still go on time, okay?”
“That’s not the fucking point, asshole.” Johnny spat back. “You’re scheduled an hour, you play an hour. Got it.”
“Dude, chill.” Ronnie said looking directly into Johnny’s eyes with the Harrison stare.
“I’m talking to Randy.” Johnny said weakly. “You punk ass bitches aren’t getting away with this.
As he turned to walk away, Ronnie could help laughing. He was still laughing as he walked over to Ass and Ben.
“Did you get a load of that guy?” He asked.
“What was that about?” Ass responded.
“Not a clue, dude.”
Just then, Pete literally bounced back with Emily on one arm and Chelsea on the other. Leaning over, he kissed Chelsea on the lips. Emily showed her disappointment, but then smiled. She was having fun despite the fact that Pete was paying more attention to Chelsea.
The group stood on the wings and chatted around as the roadies cleared their equipment. They had heard of Storm Damage and they all wanted to hear them. Finally, the stage was set up. Standing twenty feet away from them was the other band minus Johnny.
“Jesus Christ.” One of them said. “Johnny doesn’t wanna come out, fuckin’ pussy.”
“I’m so over this shit.” Another one said.
After fifteen minutes, Johnny finally showed up. Although, the emotional heights the crowd had been at had declined significantly in the time it took Johnny to come out, they were still ready to continue.
“Here’s Storm Drain.” The announcer said.
They were greeted enthusiastically by the excited crowd. The music came up and it was Storm Damage’s current chart buster. The crowd responded by erupting into dance. The mosh pit kicked up and the party started. The second song was good, but it didn’t seem to have much heart. By the fifth song, Storm Damage lost all but the most hardcore and drunk in the audience.
“These guys are a little off tonight.” Ronnie said generously.
“Dude, they like suck.” Emily responded. “Let’s get out of here Pete.”
“Ronnie, wanna come, Dude?” Pete asked.
“Nah, I’m gonna go call Annie.” Ronnie responded.
Seeing an opportunity, Ass stepped up.
“Hey, I’ll hang with you guys.” Ass said.
“Really?” Pete said as he shot a glance at Ben and definitely saw the pain in his eyes.
“Yeah, sure.” Ass said.
Then he turned to Emily and gave her an obvious once over allowing his eyes to hover over her ample breasts. Then he looked back into her eyes and saw her cheery look.
“How you doing?” He asked shyly. “Emily, right?”
“Yeah, you’re the drummer.” Emily replied. “What’s your name?”
“They call me Ass.” He replied.
“That’s a funny name.” Emily giggled. “Why do they call you that?”
“Maybe I’ll let you know later.” He continued flirtatiously.
The group of four walked away leaving Ben and Ronnie standing in the wings.
“Ronnie, why is he doing this?” Ben asked.
“Ben, I have no idea.” Ronnie replied. “Maybe he’s just trying to adjust. It can’t be easy on him.”
“Maybe.” Ben said sadly. “But I don’t know how much I can take.”
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