The Rock 'N' the Roll. 'N That

by Steven J. Gill

  Feeling Lara’s stomach muscles tense as she sat up, Johnny leant back.

  “Don’t stop I’m nearly there.”

  Bending forward, Johnny carried on subserviently.

  As Johnny, head bent, Lara flipped on the video camera on her iPhone and recorded some ‘jumpy’ footage in the mirror that faced the bed.

  Then, pushing his head back with a red-soled Louboutin heel, Lara rubbed languidly at her clitoris and brought herself to a panting climax.

  Crossing her olive legs, Lara looked down at Johnny, whose hand was now hovering over the buckle of his belt like an expectant Wild West gunslinger.

  A barely perceptible shake of her head caused him to slowly lower his trigger finger.

  “Well, well, well. Mr. Integrity. Just the same as every other fucking guy. Thinks with his dick.”

  Johnny looked upwards, a look of abject mortification splashed across his face. And her warm pussy juice on his chin.

  The dominant look on Lara’s face told him all needed to know.

  “I’ve got Jamie jumping whenever I snap my fingers. The band make it big over here, then I might just marry him. Who knows.”

  Closing his eyes, Johnny felt like he might be sick there and then.

  “And as for you. Mister stumbles across a band and gets lucky. Dumps his girlfriend for the big bad world of showbiz. I’ve got you exactly where I want you. Don’t ever try and fuck me over and think you’ve got the measure of me.”

  Johnny went to speak, but Lara cut him abruptly off.

  “I knew you would have told Jamie. It’s all quite sweet, this little paternal routine you pull.”

  “But I do ca—” Johnny stammered.

  “I can see how much you care. Now fuck off back to your hotel room and jerk yourself off to your heart’s content, “said Lara caustically.

  Standing to leave, Johnny reeled towards the bedroom door. As he reached for his coat, he heard Lara in a sing-song voice.

  “Oh Johnny! Next time you see your beloved Jamie. Look him in the eye and tell him I miss him. Mwah.”

  Stabbing at the elevator button, Johnny felt tears forming in his eyes and a bilious rush in the pit of his stomach.

  The express drop of the lift did him no favours and as he exited the hotel’s revolving door, Johnny bent double with his hands on his knees and dry-retched, spitting Colombian laced bile onto the sidewalk.

  Holding his hands to his face, he rubbed the ball of his thumbs into his eyeballs in a vain attempt to extinguish the scene that he had just been central to. Despite the driving rain, a myriad of sunspots exploded in front of his eyes.

  “What the fuck have I done,” he said to himself.

  Almost oblivious to the lashing down rain which seemed to come from the sidewalk itself such was the velocity. Already soaked to his T-shirt, the rain washed the dried sex off his face. Stumbling away in the vague direction of his hotel, his drug-induced indiscretion screaming at him at every step…

  Chapter 59

  “What the fuck do you lot look like?” Johnny said as he met the band in the hotel reception. The achingly hip Philippe Starck interior design seemed to wince at the band’s boisterousness.

  “VEGAS BABY!” Danny shouted, clearly still under the influence and oblivious to his surroundings. Heads turned from across the other side of the reception. Three of the band had shades firmly locked in place despite the gloomy weather, the exception being Mikee who had acquired a new trapper hat – the loosely hanging flaps forming large mutton chop sideburns.

  The band were all sporting street vendor printed T-shirts bearing images of each other.

  Mikee’s had a picture of an elegantly wasted Jamie stood by the side of a swimming pool, soaking wet, with his T-shirt slung over his shoulder, the top button of his jeans undone, shades on and a cigarette hanging from his lips. He looked beautiful. And Johnny was already picturing the image on various band merchandise.

  “Nice T-shirts, lads. Little souvenir from Vegas?” Johnny asked.

  “Top time,” Danny said, with a snap of his fingers, followed by a tap of his nose.

  Looking up from his coffee, Jamie slid his sunglasses onto the top of his head. “What’s up man? You look terrible.”

  “Think I’ve picked up some bug. Not feeling at my best,” Johnny said, meeting Jamie’s concerned expression but feeling a wave of guilt smother him.

  “We’ve got to soundcheck later. But apart from that we’re clear all day. You get your head down. Sleep it off and be right for the show,” Jamie said, patting Johnny’s arm reassuringly.

  A final show of the year would see the band play bottom of the bill at Madison Square Garden supporting Black Keys. Even the lowest slot on the undercard couldn’t diminish the band’s excitement at playing at such a prestigious venue.

  “Thanks man. I will. But you’ll be alright without me.”

  “You look fuckin’ terrible,” Dominic chimed up. “Couldn’t hack the pace with us, eh boss?”

  “Yeah, cheers Dom. Appreciate your concern,” Johnny deadpanned.

  “After soundcheck, I’m off guitar shopping and to pick something up for Eleanor. Check out one of the big department stores,” Dominic said chirpily.

  “Well, seeing as you are all safely here. In body but possibly not mind, I’ll turn it in again,” Johnny said, stifling a yawn.

  “You been worried about us, dude?” Mikee asked, a beer cradled in his shovel sized hand.

  “Always, Mikee. Always,” Johnny said before he headed back to the sanctuary of his room. Just him and his painkillers. And his gnawing guilty conscience…

  ***

  “Great show Jamie!” cooed Lara, having ensured that she was the first well-wisher through the dressing room door. Full backstage accreditation was never ever beyond her capabilities. “You looked amazing up there. You rocked like a motherfuckers!”

  Jamie smiled and nodded his head slowly but appreciatively. “Thanks Lara. You on your own?” he asked pointedly.

  Having been sat on the adjacent armchair to Jamie, Johnny – nursing a sparkling water – had nowhere to turn and had to acknowledge Lara’s presence.

  “Hiya Lara. Glad you enjoyed it. They were on top form tonight,” Johnny said between tentative sips.

  “Oh Johnny. Hey. You look a bit peaky. Our little night out wasn’t too much for you was it?” Lara asked with the flicker of a wink.

  “Johnny’s not feeling too great. Been a full-on year, hasn’t it man!” Jamie said, before leaning over and kissing Johnny on the cheek.

  “Oh Johnny. You’ve perhaps eaten something you shouldn’t. It mustn’t have agreed with you,” Lara said. Shooting Johnny a knowing glance.

  “Something like that,” Johnny grumbled into his bottle.

  “JAMIE! DOM! Someone wants to meet you,” Tex – the perennially chipper guitar tech – shouted around the door.

  Jamie made eyes that he was already occupied.

  “Free guitars on offer. It’s the dude from Gretsch I told you about.”

  Dom was already across the room, signaling frantically for his brother to join him.

  “Gimme a minute,” Jamie said. “And be gentle with Johnny. Don’t know what you did to him the other night but he’s very fragile.” Johnny grimaced as Jamie stepped past him.

  “I’ll look after him, Jamie Thorne. Don’t you worry. But don’t be too long,” Lara said with an added purr to her voice.

  As soon as the dressing room door had closed behind the twins, Johnny turned to Lara, and hissed under his breath.

  “Very clever. Very fuckin’ clever aren’t we. Just because you acted the perfect cunt and showed me your perfect cunt, don’t think I’m going to be dancing to whatever your fucking tune is.”

  “Tell him then,” Lara said matter-of-factly. “Man the fuck up and tell him. Imagine how hurt poor Jamie would be.”

  Johnny fell silent.

  “Exactly. I wonder if they’ve held your shitty old job open for you, Mr. Manager?”r />
  “I’d love to know what you’re trying to prove,” Johnny said. “And anyway. There’s no proof. None whatsoever. Jamie’s hardly going to believe that his greying middle-aged manager is suddenly fighting off sexual advances from models!”

  “You don’t think?” Lara said with an archly raised eyebrow.

  Pulling her mobile phone from the pocket of her leather jacket, she proceeded to scroll through the applications before holding the screen in front of Johnny’s face.

  The home-made movie crippled Johnny’s stomach again and he gulped down the last of his water. The screen showed some dimly light footage of Lara reflected in a mirror with a male head buried deep between her legs. It was hard to make out much detail.

  Aside from the green face of the Rolex Submariner that was clearly visible as the ‘giver’ pushed his hair back. That and the trade mark two stripes on the collar of a Fred Perry T-shirt.

  “That proof enough? Like I said. I’m in control,” Lara said emphatically.

  “Yes. Yes, it is,” Johnny said flatly. “But don’t,” Johnny implored. “Please don’t. What does it achieve?”

  “What it achieves is that you’ll keep your nose out of my business. Think on. Don’t try and be so fucking smart in the future. We understand each other?”

  “We understand each other,” Johnny said with a meek nod.

  “Good. And by the way. Great action. It’s true about the older man being more experienced,” Lara said as she leaned across and kissed Johnny on the cheek.

  “Look at you two all cosy,” Jamie said as he returned, carrying a brand new Gretsch guitar case. “Free guitars for me and Dom. How fuckin’ sick is that!”

  “Nice,” Johnny said, struggling to get his words out of his bottom of the bird-cage dry throat.

  “What were you showing Johnny?” Jamie asked.

  “Just my latest sex-tape,” Lara said sarcastically. “Looks nothing like me. She’s coyote-ugly.”

  Scrolling through her phone again, she handed it to Jamie.

  Johnny thought he’d be sick there and then as he felt his eyes widen and his stomach constrict simultaneously.

  “Wicked!” Jamie said. “You must have been really close. I didn’t spot you.”

  “I love it in the pit,” Lara laughed. “You know me. Can’t get enough of the rock and the roll. Especially you guys.”

  Trying to contain his relief, Johnny excused himself to go to the bathroom.

  “Is he okay?” Lara asked, feigning concern with consummate ease.

  “Just a bit burnt out I think,” Jamie replied. “He’ll be fine. We’ve got a couple of weeks off over Christmas.”

  “Christmas. That reminds me,” Lara said. “I’ve got you a Christmas present. I hope you haven’t forgotten mine…”

  ***

  “I can’t wait to get home,” Danny said as they queued at JFK Airport. “I’ve missed my girls.”

  “Yeah. We could tell that in Vegas,” Dominic said smugly.

  “Err. What happens in Ve—” Danny started to say.

  “Don’t give me that bollocks of a cliché,” Dom snorted. “You couldn’t wait for that stripper to drag you back for a private dance.”

  “If you hadn’t wanted to go in there, it would never have happened,” Danny replied.

  “My fault then, isn’t it? Obviously,” Dom sneered.

  Shaking his head and returning to his iPad, Danny proceeded to grumble to himself for the next couple of minutes.

  As they finally passed through US Customs, the band stripped off their coats, shoes, belts and passed them through for inspection.

  “Pain in the arse, this. Every time we take a fuckin’ flight,” Danny moaned as he collected his belongings from the grey plastic tray.

  “Excuse me sir. Is this yours?” asked the burly Customs official as Jamie’s personal effects passed in front of him.

  Jamie froze on the spot as the officer opened his bag and took out his iPad and opened the black plastic sleeve.

  Sensing Jamie’s panic, Johnny put his hand up. “No, that’s mine. I must have left it at the hotel. Wondered where it was.”

  Radioing through to his colleagues, he said, “Would you mind collecting the remainder of your belongings and stepping this way please, sir.”

  “But Johnny,” Jamie whispered.

  With a quick shake of his head, Johnny silenced Jamie and followed the Customs officers, struggling to walk and hold his jeans up as he hadn’t had time to replace his belt.

  ***

  “Sir. Is this your iPad? Even though you weren’t carrying it?” asked the Customs officer.

  The iPad sat dead centre of the cold-metal table in the interview room. And alongside it sat a small incriminating plastic baggie with the dregs of some so far unidentified white powder.

  “I left it on our tour bus and Jamie must have picked it up for me,” Johnny said as confidently as he could.

  “And the powder? Can you tell me what it is?”

  “Bit of coke. I bought it from a guy at the aftershow last night. Not really my thing, as a rule.”

  “Really?” said the officer disbelievingly. “We’ll be checking what it is. But in the meantime, we will be holding you here and suggest you call your lawyer…”

  ***

  “Fuckin’ Hell J!” hissed Dominic. “I can’t believe you’d carry anything through customs! How fuckin’ stupid.”

  “I forgot,” Jamie said slowly. “I honestly forgot about it.”

  “What do we always get told! Dump anything before you get to the fuckin’ airport,” Dominic said as he stared at his brother.

  “Fuck’s sake,” Jamie said as he put his head between his hands.

  “Look bro. If you say it was only a tiny amount, he’ll get off with a fine. They’re not going to bang him up.”

  “I know. A bit of coke. They won’t send him down for that. Surely.” The lie paining Jamie as soon as it left his lips.

  “And all that fuckin’ waiting around whilst they searched our gear. We could’ve missed our flight!” Dom said.

  “I said I’m sorry. I just forgot,” Jamie whispered.

  “Well. It’ll be Johnny that you need to say sorry to. He fell on the fuckin’ grenade for you.”

  “I know. I can’t believe he’d do that for me…”

  Chapter 60

  “Fuck! Is it good to see you,” Jamie said as he hugged Johnny.

  Having established when his return flight was due to land, Jamie and Dominic had taken a taxi to Manchester Airport.

  “How was Con Air for you then man? Did they manacle you to the seat?” Dominic asked, as he then mirrored Jamie’s hug.

  “Very fuckin’ funny,” a weary looking Johnny replied. “Thanks for meeting me. Good to see a friendly face. That was a fuckin’ nightmare.”

  “So just the fine then?” Jamie asked.

  “Two grand fine and I won’t be going to the Land of the Free again in a hurry. No chance of getting back in now. But rather me than you, eh. At least you lot can still conquer America!” Johnny said, putting on the bravest of faces.

  “Yeah. Thanks man, I owe you,” Jamie replied sheepishly.

  “I owe you! There’s an understatement,” Dominic added unnecessarily.

  “Fuck’s sake, Dom,” Jamie said.

  “Yeah okay. Right. Think this calls for a pint,” Dominic said as he flagged a taxi down.

  “Just the one,” Johnny mumbled, still clearly a little shell-shocked by the past thirty-six hours. “You’re buying.”

  Arriving at a quiet pub not far from Dominic’s ‘House on the Hill’, Jamie and Johnny took a seat whilst Dominic called the drinks in.

  “We need to talk,” Johnny said as soon as Dom was occupied with the round.

  “What?” Jamie asked, feeling the guilt flush his cheeks.

  “You know. The fuckin’ drugs. Wasn’t just a bit of sniff!”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Jamie said, the gulp in his throat giving him
away all too easily.

  “It’ll wait, J. But fuck. Don’t do this to us. You’re way, way better than that shit,” Johnny said as he put his hand on the back of Jamie’s.

  “If I knew what you were banging on about, I could agree with you,” Jamie relied tersely.

  “It’ll wait, J. But it’s good to be home with my arse intact. I’m still way too pretty for prison,” Johnny said as he accepted the pint off Dominic.

  He raised his pint to meet the brothers’ glasses. “Thank fuck!” Johnny said succinctly.

  “You really fell on a grenade there man,” Dominic said, “I’ve already told this dick he should have dumped it. Schoolboy error.”

  “Yeah Dom. You have told me. Many times. And I fucked up. I know that,” Jamie said quietly.

  “Look. It’s done now. Better me than you. Band’s never gonna crack America without a lead singer. Simple as that,” Johnny said. “They’ll let me back in one day. Maybe.”

  Jamie exhaled wistfully. His brother then put an arm around his shoulders, realising quite how manifest Jamie’s guilt was.

  “Few weeks off now. It’ll do us all good. Next tour starts in February. Noses clean until then, eh,” Johnny said as he drained the last of his pint. “My round. That one didn’t even touch the sides.”

  “What you doing for Christmas, Johnny?” Dominic asked. “You should come around to ours. You’re coming, aren’t you J? And Mum will be coming along.”

  “Didn’t know you could cook? Getting proper domesticated, aren’t you?” Jamie said.

  “Fuck that. Eleanor has got some caterers sorted. You both gonna come? Christmas at the new Mr. & Mrs. Dominic Thornes’. Still can’t get my head round that,” Dominic said.

  “I’ll see my mum during the day but if it’s after that then count me in,” Johnny said. “Why not?” Aside from the prickly situations with Cally, he thought.

  “Good for me,” Jamie said.

  “Wicked,” Dominic said. “Mikee said he’ll come along after he’s finished at his. I’m still working on D-Mo.”

  “Here’s to Christmas dinner at your House on the Hill,” Johnny said. “Looking forward to it.”