Bare Necessities 2 (The Bare Necessities)

by John David Harding

  The rustling sounds of wildlife mingled with the DJ carrying across the still night air. She broke the seal on the vodka with a twist. “Bottoms up!” She cried and passed it to Emit. She drank from another. “Sh-uch a fucking normal do,” she moaned. “Ordinary people being well behaved little cunts. Paige really pisses me off sometimes. 'Don't get drunk at my sister's wedding.'” She mimicked a high voice, pretending it was her friend and drank from the bottle again. “Didn't see her being well behaved when she got us arrested.”

  “But …”

  “Ah, I just want to escape from this fucking normality!” Her eyes met two of Ricky's ex-bandmates outside the venue smoking and she waved at them. They joined her on the immaculate lawn, taking bottles of strong spirits from her canvas bag.

  The chatter was racy, the talk dominated by music. They traded anecdotes about the tours and departing guests saw the four drunkards swearing loudly, but said nothing.

  At midnight, they stumbled into the castle and Claire fumbled in her handbag for the key to her suite. Emit gasped in shock at the opulence when she opened the door to her room; he had travelled by car to the venue and met Claire outside.

  “Who wants a bit of fun?” Ben asked. He took his smart dinner jacket from his shoulders and threw it over the coat rack.

  Emit clandestinely started his camera application on his phone, and watched Ben take a large number of small packets from the inside pocket of his jacket and placed them on the table.

  “Is that …?”

  He laughed at Emit's shocked expression. “Just a bit of champagne, mate. You up for a snort Claire? Premium stuff at one-fifty notes per gram. T’ats forty a line.”

  The drunken guitarist nodded. “Ain't done Coke before.”

  “Everyone does Charlie in the biz,” Jay added, running his hands through his erratic blonde hair. “I've had five lines already.”

  “Ain't no way I'd get through this shit without it. Even Ricky’s had a few. Bet Paige has too.”

  “Paige does Coke?” Emit asked Ben incredulously.

  “Sure,” Ben guessed. “Everyone does. No creative shit happens without a bit of Charlie or Horse. All the greatest smoke shit like a chimney!” Ben took one of the packets and ripped the top of the small plastic bag, sprinkling it onto the dressing table. His platinum-branded credit card was used to separate the drug into four lines and he rolled up a banknote into a straw.

  The first two lines disappeared into the nostrils of Ben and Jay as Emit watched with awe. The drug peddler showed Claire how to use the makeshift straws and he watched as she dropped to her knees to snort the white powder. Emit refused, feeling out of his depth, as the three celebrities continued to mix hard spirits with the party drug.

  He watched as Claire's expression changed. Her glazed face took on a pained and then excited look. Her body buzzed and a cool euphoria swept through her body. He captured a few pictures on his phone until Jay ordered him to put his electronics away.

  Claire's clothes were discarded; her guests joined her in disrobing. She lustfully admired the large star tattoo on Jay's right pectoral muscle and the array of tattoos that littered Ben's body. She kissed the naked Emit and downed the last of the bottle of vodka before falling onto the bed as Ben's fingers swept over her skin.

  “She's up for it,” Ben said; Claire said nothing as her lips were guided into the crotch of Jay. “Come on.” He motioned towards Emit. “She's your date.”

  “I'm not sure …”

  “All birds want it after a few lines of Coke. It makes all the girls wet. Just fuck her.”

  “We're going to,” Jay added. Emit gulped. “Just like that bird in Amsterdam. Those two took on all of us. And the girls in LA and …”

  “Don't be a pussy!” Ben interrupted

  Emit said nothing as the two men slid forward, but subtly took out his phone. Surely, Claire could not be consenting to the violation on her body. He contemplated ringing the Police, or leaving the room.

  He couldn't face up to two of the muscle-bound men; both over six foot and who could knock him out with a single punch. He couldn't fight them off.

  Instead he watched, wavering inside as the two men satisfied their needs as he clandestinely videoed them with his phone. The sex was brief; Claire never looked in control of herself and he watched them without saying a word. They finished and pushed the naked man towards his defiled date. He hesitated as the two men cleaned themselves in the bathroom. “Come back,” she whimpered towards the rapists, which broke Emit's resolve and judgement.

  Suddenly Claire was nothing more than a vessel for him.

  Chapter XV

  Hazel

  She pouted at her new husband, typing on his phone. Her red hair was still immaculately positioned, and tumbled in corkscrew twists down the side of her face. The brilliant white dress, accentuated with a red band, and hints of flaming carmine throughout the garment, hugged her figure tightly.

  It had been adorned with crystals and had sparkled throughout the day; it had cost a small fortune but the wedding dress was Paige’s gift to her sister and the five figure sum had not troubled the international star.

  Hazel looked at her husband, getting undressed in the large honeymoon suite. She smoothed her dress, rustling the glass crystals as she patiently waited for him to abandon his smartphone.

  He smiled at his screen, pushed the phone away and took a photograph with the front-facing camera, capturing his bare chest and bulging muscles. Hazel coughed; he ignored her. He tapped at the screen, and waited for the selfie to disappear into cyberspace.

  “Nice one,” he muttered to himself, barely glancing up at his bride. His new wife coughed louder, raising an eyebrow at him. He flashed a peek at his hesitant spouse, grunting at his companion disrespectfully.

  “Come on,” she implored. “You hardly spent any of the evening with me. It’s time for us now.”

  “I’m busy,” he snapped.

  “Yeah, but not busy with me!”

  He slowly shook his head, running his hand over his fashionable stubble. “OK. We’ll get busy.” He tossed his phone onto the bed, and grabbed hold of Hazel’s arm, twisting it until she squealed in pain. He pulled the cream ribbon on the back of her dress and then the second, and the third, so the back of the garment fell away.

  “Out of t’at,” he demanded, finding his faux urban accent once more. He unbuttoned his belt, and tossed his shoes to one side, standing in front of Hazel in just his tight white underwear.

  He swiped at her lacy, delicate unterhose; her pasty skin contrasting with Ricky’s tanned, bronze flesh, just as his briefs did.

  He held her body tight while his hands flicked the catch on the back of her bra; the garment went loose. She smiled at him. “I love it when you’re forceful,” the young adult giggled; her beaming grin not hiding her excitement.

  “Now, where were we?” Ricky asked, jumping on the bed, and holding his phone out. He patted the mattress on the four poster bed by the side of him and glowered at her. “C’mon. I’m spending time wit’ you.”

  She gulped, sitting beside him. He held the camera as far as he could, and shouted at Hazel for trying to cover up her bare bosom. “Please,” she whimpered. “I’m not an exhibitionist.”

  He ignored her complaints and swore at the screen. Ricky slid off his side of the bed and rustled through his overnight bag. Hazel peered between the halcyon curtains of the imposing furniture, to see Ricky hold up a selfie stick.

  The short pole extended to a four foot rodling, and he attached the phone to the holder at the end, and the jack into the headphone socket.

  “Please,” she said again. “You’re not undressed.”

  “I fuckin’ model for Mode Guépard. T’ese tweets'll go viral. Now cut ya bitchin’ and do’s as you’re fuckin’ told.” He held the camera out to his left, encompassing all of his naked bride, and his underwear-clad body, and forced her to smile. She instinctively turned her body away from the camera to hide her modesty and he
grabbed hold of her arm, forcibly twisting her towards him.

  “We is married now which means you support me in wha’ I do. Every guy loves redheads as t’ose bitches are dirty sluts. T’is pic shows I got the sexy bitch and I is wearing m’ briefs. You is from that crazy naked tribe anyways so don’t go all shy on me now.”

  He ripped the phone from it’s housing and turned on the bed, forcing her ankles apart and taking a picture of his horrified bride from her thighs to the headboard.

  “Now. Do as your told or t’is goes on the net too.” His wide eyes glared at her and shuddered, roughly wiping a tear away from her eyes with his thumb.

  Her wedding night was not supposed to be like this. Her marriage wasn’t supposed to be like this. He had never been violent or controlling with her before.

  Just who was the man she had married?

  Chapter XVI

  Paige

  Jack stopped the car outside their house. “OK. I'll be back at five,” he promised and waited for his girlfriend to leave his car with her shopping.

  “Where are you off to?” Paige asked suspiciously as her boyfriend didn't reveal his plans for the day. “Is it to go to another rally at the Really Nasty Party.”

  “Paige, stop it!”

  “So it is.” She glared at him and crossed her arms. “If I don't leave this car, you can't go.”

  “If you don't leave this car I'll go in the Atom.” He glanced towards one of their double garages. “I do have more than one set of wheels.”

  Paige hummed and leant over the gear stick to kiss her partner. “We could, go upstairs.” She flicked her eyebrows and gave her partner a cheeky smile. “All day.”

  “I will be home at five.”

  “Ahh. I won't be in the mood then. I'll have a headache!”

  “Paige, that will not work.” The red-haired singer leant further into her boyfriend, trying to kiss him as he moved his face away. He sighed, flicked his seatbelt release catch and got out of his vehicle. “Paige, out of this car … now!”

  She waited, crossing her arms. “Ummm … I'm thinking.”

  “Well there's a first.”

  “Oi,” she shouted. She leant over the seats to look up at him. “Please can we spend some time together.”

  “I'll be four hours,” he promised. “Now it's a lovely day, go spend some time in the garden sunning yourself or swimming in the pool. Or maybe writing a song 'cause you were moaning that you only have two completed and you want to release an album. You will need a lot more than two songs for an album, you know.”

  Paige screwed up her face. “Yeah. How about 'Abandoned by my lover.'” She sighed as she hummed a tune. “My lover doesn't want me, my lover doesn't care. My lover is more interested in being unfair. I try to make him love me, embrace him every day. But all he cares about is his fucking rally. Why can't …”

  “Very good,” Jack simpered. “That’s a sure fire number one hit. Now off you go and write it, and get out of my car. Please.”

  “Don’t talk to me like that!” Paige roared, and hummed in thought. “Hey, why don't I come with you?”

  He chuckled. “Ahh, your little face. As if for a moment you thought that I might contemplate taking you to such an event. We both know that would be like organising kiddies’ swimming lessons inside a tank of poisonous jellyfish, hungry piranhas and patrolled by wild starving dogs.”

  “You do exaggerate! I am not always …”

  “Out. Of. The. Car. Please.” He looked at his watch. “You’re going to make me late.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Right. I’m going in the Atom.” He moved away from the vehicle and Paige, suddenly unable to command her lover’s attention swore. “Oh for fucks sake,” Paige shouted, causing Jack to look back at her. He glared at his partner as she vacated the passenger seat and slammed the door shut.

  Jack sat back down in the drivers seat and spun the car on the gravel, scattering stones as he sped down their private driveway. “Bad move, Jack!” She muttered to herself. “You don't win this one!”

  She sauntered into the house, picking up the post from the doormat. Two letters, both for her, which she read as she waited for Jack's computer to boot. One was from an art gallery and the other junk mail from her bank.

  Jack's computer automatically signed into his user account, and Paige started a browser window; his vehicle had a tracker and the browser had saved the portal's credentials for her.

  Twelve months previous, when her partner had bought his new car, he had boasted and shown Paige the merits of the included tracking system. He had never expected Paige to remember how to use it; she only remembered the site address because it was bookmarked.

  Every minute, the screen updated to show her partner driving south. Paige waited for the red dot to stop moving, coming to rest in the Surrey town of Redhill. “Gotcha,” she laughed and picked up her phone to dial a few friends. They had a rally to disrupt.

  Chapter XVII

  Claire

  Claire groaned as she woke; her headache thundered inside her skull and nasty acidic mucous dripped down her gullet. She coughed and dry-heaved, stumbling towards the en-suite bathroom to throw-up in the toilet.

  “You OK?”

  Emit's voice came from the sofa and her date opened the bathroom door, dressed in just his boxer shorts. She grunted, throwing up again in the porcelain.

  Emit respectfully closed the door; he knocked a few moments later with a glass of fresh water. “I've put the kettle on,” he said as she took the drink and sipped at it. “Quite a night last night.”

  “Are … what's their faces still here?”

  “Ben and Jay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No. They left after the … don't you remember last night?”

  “Wedding. Booze. First Dance. Booze. Grass outside with booze. Back here with drugs and booze.”

  Emit hummed. “That's it?”

  “Yeah. We had sex didn't we?” Emit nodded; gulping as she rubbed her eyes. “Either you or the drugs were fantastic. Or maybe both. But I need a hot shower I think.”

  “Right …”

  “Ring reception and order some breakfast for us,” Claire demanded from Emit and stumbled towards the sanctuary of the en-suite bathroom.

  Emit tidied the room. Three full packets of Cocaine had fallen behind the back of the table and he retrieved them, stashing them in Claire's handbag. The hospitality knocked loudly on the door as Claire emerged from the bathroom and, wrapped in a hotel dressing gown, opened the door to a trolley of breakfast fayre.

  She felt better after she'd had a meal and the two checked out of the hotel, with Emit still wearing his suit. He hadn't brought an overnight bag as he hadn't expected to stay the night.

  “Coffee?” He asked. “I've checked Google and there's a little café in the village down the road. I thought the walk would do you good.”

  “Yeah OK.” Emit smiled. “Before we go, just one thing.”

  Emit's heart leapt. “What?”

  “Just 'cause we fucked, doesn't mean I want to be with you. OK? Or that we came to the wedding and all that. I like you but I ain't lookin' for love. Just …”

  “… to have some fun.” Emit finished for her. “I get that. You've told me often enough.”

  “Good,” she gulped and rubbed her forehead.

  “You know Paige was interrogating me last night as to what I was like. She seems to think that you and I are … together.”

  “I wish Paige would butt out sometimes. She's so intense. She always thinks she knows best. The amount of trouble we got into because of her. I pity Jack because he tries to reason with her and she’s a crazy fundamentalist and there is no reasoning with that. She doesn’t get logic.”

  Emit gulped. “She's a good singer though. The best.”

  “Oh sorry, I forgot,” Claire mocked. “I bet you won't hear a word said against her. You should date her, not me!”

  “I thought we weren’t dating, just lookin’ fo
r fun!” Emit teased. “And Paige is with Jack, and I like you not her. Well I do like her. Just not like as in very liking her. She’s …”

  “She’s Paige, we’ll leave it at that,” Claire interrupted, bailing Emit out of the hole he was digging for himself with his bout of verbal diarrhoea. “She’s interfering and I wish she’d stop it.”

  “No, she just seems … concerned.”

  “That's always been her problem. She is concerned about everyone else doing things her way. She has this cosy little life where everything is perfect and woe betide anyone who dares to do things differently. And everyone swoons over her like she is this most amazing person because she does aid concerts and the like.”

  Emit sighed. “Is that why you split up?”

  “The Bare Necessities? Sort of. We had three albums in three and a half years. That's a really punishing pace. And three tours too. It was just relentless. And we were getting fed up and tired of each other. So we said we'd take a break. And we are doing.” Claire hummed. “And I have Nuclear Monkeys rehearsals coming up and a short tour with them. And Paige wants to do a solo album. Just a good time to explore other things really.”

  “But you do like her, don't you?”

  “Paige,” Claire asked. “I fucking hate her. I mean, I love her too. She's an amazing person, but the biggest pain in the fucking arse you'll ever come across.”

  “You love and you hate her? Isn't that a contradiction?” He asked as he giggled.

  “Nope,” Claire replied as they reached the end of the castle's drive and entered the small village. “Just try being with her for more than a few minutes and you'll see. Troublemaker is her middle name.”

  “My mate's a bit like that. Always getting himself banned from sites and stuff. And he was arrested last week.”

  “What for? Appearing naked on stage when ordered not to?”