To the Paris of our dreams

by Tomas Goncalves

  But as in the moment they called, his band was about to leave to go have a nice dinner somewhere, and he had started drinking hours before, he forced himself to forget that call.

  Days later, they had a special dinner that was a bit weird. That's when the two bands got introduced: The lead singer from the other band was a girl with a very strong personality. Voluptuous hair, dressing herself extremely well, wearing a really nice perfume. Her lips grabbed Eric's attention. Even though she was the only one there who was well dressed, apart from the managers and agents, she never got surprised with Eric's band behavior, probably because her own bandmates were as crazy as them. She also didn't get surprised on how well everyone got along, or with the amount of alcohol they drank, not even the immaturity or the loud conversations. They were actually as hard core as Eric, getting drugs out of their pockets as soon as the managers turned their backs (sometimes not even waiting for that). Eric and Taylor, the lead singer, would spend their first night together after that. That's why you have a band after all.

  No one was allowed to be hangover the next day, obviously. They had too much work to do, too far to go. Those eleven musicians, seven man and four women, went to the airport where a private plane was waiting for them. They got along so well, that starting that day, in the plane (yes, that band had a really nice private plane) , in the vans, hotels, backstage or any kind of restaurants, parties, parking lots or wherever it was, having them together became a sign of insane parties

  And drugs.

  - Come on, guys. It'll be fun... We'll meet a lot of cool people

  - Yeah, I'm in... - Isabella - Eric?

  Eric was completely exhausted. He hadn't sleep much in the last days, he was very tired after the show they had just finished a couple of hours before and besides, he hadn't eat much that day. Some chips, maybe like four hours before. But he wouldn't be the one not going. “Yeah, sure” He said.

  Marie was there, looking around, without knowing what to do or what to answer. She probably didn't want to go. But they went. They went to this party and they met a lot of people. Isabella always drinking, always making Eric drink with her, until they were pretty wasted, with everyone else.

  That happened a lot. Then Eric would make out, usually with Marie, who would be also a bit happy. Marie was trying really hard to have fun, to make friends, and to be more outgoing.

  One thing was certain: even though they were not a technically couple, no one, and I mean no one, ever dared to try anything with Marie. Eric didn't care about Isabella, Taylor, the other girl from Taylor's band, or even the girls who would work in their tour or pass by their concerts.

  Apart from that, it became pretty much a lawless place. They were all having sex with lots and lots of people. Not rare, some of them found themselves in groups having sex.

  Despite his best efforts, undeniably there was still a connection between Eric and Marie and they would often have genuine good moments together. They would seat and have a beer, or just chill while waiting for a concert, or after a concert, or by just enjoying this strong connection they sometimes had on stage. She was always very happy, very bubbly, trying to make people around her have a good time, always doing the impossible to try to make Eric smile.

  Sometimes she would reach him, sometimes he was just unreachable.

  He didn't want to show he cared. He didn't want to give space to Isabella mock him, which was already happening too frequently, about anything. He still wanted to make Marie suffer from being afraid of choosing him.

  And Marie? ….She seemed to be the only one who was actually there for the music at that point. Some of them truly loved music, and truly loved being on tour. But most of people were just there for the money and the drugs – that way of life, let's say – She was probably the only one who actually didn't enjoy all of that that much – I mean, she really did, in the beginning – Although she was enjoying making a good money on her own, she definitely wasn't there for the money. She was like a sponge, trying to absorb music from everywhere. Always playing, practicing, listening to music, talking about music, being on studio when they had access to one, and through that, she was making friends and gaining admiration. After all, she was a remarkable musician, a true talent, and she was truly passionate about music. During the day, she would always find people to share her passion with.

  But when it would get dark, it would always be the same: Everyone would put music aside, and would do what they truly loved and wanted to do. She then would have to make a decision, between joining in or be left alone back at the hotel. And in the first days it was easy to follow that group, because she genuinely felt like it.

  What happened is that Eric wouldn't treat her that well when they were partying: He wasn't there for her. He was there to be Eric Meirelles. To be what everyone was expecting of him – Particularly Isabella and Taylor. But also because the guys from the other band would frequently challenge Eric presence, some alpha-male bullshit kind of thing.

  She would feel alone, having to see Eric do what he would do, until he was so wasted or fucked up that he would usually come back to her by the end of the night to try and make out with her some more, maybe take her to bed or just be with her so he could sleep a bit, because Marie soon realized that Eric just couldn't sleep by himself.

  She just didn't know what to do. She would try to make things better, not let herself get into that sad situation, but then Eric would need her, and beg for her getting to the point where he would cry just to have her company, only for the next day he wouldn't remember a thing. Then she would try to talk to him, and he would be nice to her the whole day, talking about music, playing with her, and joking around with her. Until it was night again, and Isabella – Or Taylor, or anyone from the bands - would put their claws on him and once again, they would all get as wasted as possible, because they needed Eric to be Eric Meirelles that night, and even Eric probably needed to be Eric Meirelles too.

  She just... didn't know what to do, and it was not getting better. Eric was in a very dark place, she needed that job – She enjoyed it too much, and she wanted Eric around - and worse, everybody thought that was normal, that that was just too fun. She tried to be nicer to Eric, but it didn't work. She tried to be distant, but it didn't work either.

  They had a huge brick wall between them and... She just didn't know what to do.

  It doesn't matter when it happened, because Eric couldn't remember anyways.

  After a couple of weeks together, partying basically every day, Eric found himself sniffing cocaine again, a lot of it. He already had tried it before, but he hadn't like it at the time. Now he did, and he wouldn't stop there.

  He couldn't remember who offered him, but he was so out of his mind drunk that he just used it. It was just so good. There was no goal on doing that, but doing that was numbing the pain of not having any kind of goal. I guess that became the main goal. He wouldn't think about those things anymore, he would have more energy to party, he would feel alive again.

  Things became unreal, like a blurry in their memories. Eric would notice several times that this thing... this thing he was living, was his life. It was everything he had. When he was not completely ecstasiated, he would have to face that truth. Alcohol, drugs, sex, cigarettes, almost zero sleep, fans who would subject themselves to take their clothes off in their backstage rooms, sometimes making a line of gorgeous girls only to hope to be chosen by one of them to get fucked and then go have some more fun. They would subject themselves to it, and sometimes they would actually act like as if they were the queens of the universe, feeling so special for playing that part.

  Richard just didn't care anymore: He was barely around now: ther
e was assistants and others managers and people around them all the time. Even bodyguards. Eric and his band never had bodyguards that big before and now those huge guys were following them around, mostly because of Taylor. They were all making so much money, so fast, that there was no reason for Richard to keep complaining to them. A lot of money, a lot of freedom, a lot of parties. A lot of everything. Everything was excessive those days. Their staff was huge, their hotel rooms got insanely big, their parties, their concerts. Lines for autographs and pictures. People paying so much money for a picture or an autograph with them. And Eric was just going insane. Flashes and Flashes. The worst for him were interviews.

  He was having so much fun, and he was making so much money. He was forcing himself to enjoy that as much as he possibly could.

  He couldn't stop thinking that that was his life. That was everything he had, everything he was. He had to enjoy it because it would be over soon.

 

 

  Marie was having fun, and deep down Eric was proud for helping her to live her passion. She caught everyone's attention with her voice and her piano – although they didn't have a piano around most of the times – and she would be singing or playing a lot these days. She was very good on creating material, and as soon as their fans got used to her, and they decided to put some of her material online with the band, they went completely crazy over her: They would scream her name when she would get on stage, and she started to have to take a lot of pictures and give a lot of autographs too. They decided to get her a keyboard so she could play some of her own solo material on stage and she got a good raise on her paycheck. That happened in a matter of weeks, it was really scary.

  Their label though, got too interested on her. They decided to try to take her out of the band, so she could go solo. They apparently even offered her a nice contract and all. But she didn't want to: She was happy on Eric's band, playing their songs, rocking with them, making material with them, and having a bit of space to play her own material on stage would be enough to be heaven for her. Eric and Tom talked for a long time about it. He had seen it as an act of loyalty from her, and he didn't want to admit that that had touched him: acts of loyalty are getting rarer and rarer these days. As a “thank you” they made her officially part of the band, and gave her even more space for her on stage: she would even sing some of Eric's song sometimes, just for the fun of it, and the fans seemed to enjoy to listen to her voice on his place sometimes, or the two of them together. She probably was the answer for the band's problem: Mike was the one who always wrote the songs, and she now was helping them to create more material so they could keep going on. Her popularity made things fell into their right place after the whole fiasco of losing Mike and needing to get two guitar players in a matter of days.

  Eric couldn't help but realize how much he loved that girl every time she would sing. It would always hit him, leave him off guard, as if it was breaking his chest and getting through what was left of his heart. It was almost magic. That would even bring him sober in a heartbeat whenever he was not lucid. But somehow, he still didn't want to love her. Was it because of what happened in Paris? Was it because of Alice? Was it because he was afraid of getting hurt again or maybe because he was in too much pain to admit he loved someone else other than himself? Because he didn't want to appear weak to everyone around him and to have to renounce everything he had at that moment? He didn't know, and that was driving him insane. What was also torturing him the most was this big act of loyalty from Marie, and the other little, constant ones from her, every day. Why was she doing it? Why was he doing that to her? Why?

  … So then he would numb himself again to forget all those questions.

  One night, Eric went to the rooftop of the concert house they had played that night on. This guy soon appeared and Eric knew he was a roadie from their tour, but he couldn`t remember his name. He also knew he was with them for a while, and that he was always talking to everyone... but he really didn't remember his name.

  At that moment, Eric just wanted to be alone, because he was feeling a bit melancholic and just wanted to get away from everybody, and breathe. A weird feeling for him.

  This guy apparently had a break for a cigarrete and coincidentally they found the same place to hide. Eventually he started to try to make some conversation with Eric.

  - So, yeah... Hey man, I never told you this, but I just would like to say I really really like your sound. I was really happy when they put me to work on this tour...

  Eric nodded his head.

  - Yeah, it's been a while... I think I liked you guys since your first material back.... what? Four or five years ago? Damn you guys were young... - He smiled – I always liked your vocals man, the lyrics... and Mike's guitar? Genius... I love playing your solos in the guitar man

  - Thanks...? What’s your name again?

  - Jan...

  - You're German right?

  - Yeah...

  - Yeah, Yeah, I remember that. So I imagine its written J-A-N, right? Not Y-A-N-N... or I-A-N

  - Exactly ... But try to explain that at a Starbucks here in the States...

  Eric couldn't help but smile.

  - ...So, you play the guitar you said?

  - Yeah....

  - Hmm... Cool. And to think a couple of months ago I was desperate for a couple of guitar players...

  - Yeah, that was something... I'm really sorry about that, man. You know, the whole Mike's situation. He was a really cool guy... A really nice guy. Actually one of the best I've ever met...

  - Yeah, he was... Too bad we didn't hear about that when we were looking for replacements...

  - Yeah, well I was going to talk to Richard if I knew about it. But you found Marie and Isabella too quickly - Jan gave a quick smile

  - Too bad man, I'm sorry about that...

  – It's okay, I guess it happens... But hey, they destroy it man, seriously. And everybody loves having two girls there. Especially good-looking as both of them, with all due-respect – He smiled

  Eric smiled.

  - Yeah, they do, and it's really good that people liked'em.

  - Uhum … so yeah, I heard this story that you're from Brazil, man?

  - Yeah, yes I am.

  - Cool, that must be so cool... I have a friend that went to Rio to live there for … a year, maybe? And you know, she's travelling around whenever she can. She showed me some pictures from the places she visited... So beautiful. And the women! My god, she made some friends there, and I was begging her to introduce me to them if I ever go there – He laughed, Eric smiled back.

  - Are you from near Rio, by the way?

  - Hmm... Not really. I'm south, waay south Brazil.

  - I see... Is it nice as Rio?

  Eric smiled

  - It's better man, way better …

  - Wow... that must be something.

  - Yeah, look it up … Florianopolis.

  - Hmm... Is that Greek or something?

  - Kind of, yeah.

  - Why would you have a Greek name for a Brazilian city? Is it a Greek colony or something? Greek enthusiasts’ maybe? - He smiled

  - Well, it basically means “Floriano's city” right. We had this Floriano guy at some point way back in our history, a dictator. And I don't remember why, but people rose against him, or just some, maybe in my city, maybe not, I really can't remember. So he executed them, and my city, to show “obedience” changed its name to...Floriano's city after that.

 
; - Fuck, and why did they keep that name?

  - Go figure man... Brazil is a weird country. They are used to kiss the hand that beat them and bite the hand that tries to help them...

  - I see, well it's a bit like that everywhere man… and how often do you go there?

  - … I don't

  - At all?

  - No... It's been... seven years now, I guess

  - Don't you miss it?

  - … No.

  - Uhmm... ok

  - Hey, I'll talk to you later, Jan. Nice talking to you. - Eric felt an urge to finish that conversation. Why the hell was he talking about his life to a roadie again?

  - Yeah, yeah. Sure man. Laters.

  Eric then left and went back downstairs.

  During those weeks, and months, you get the chance to know hotels, pubs, backstage rooms. You don't actually get to know much about the cities you pass through. Not many responsibilities, or limits: As long you as you're good to perform the concert you have to perform, or talk to whoever loser you have to talk to (reporter or fan) it was all good. Just jumping from airport to airport, going to the hotel, eat a bit /a lot, move around a bit, party a bit, find the concert venue and checking if sound is good, meet a couple of people to hang with you that night, people to have sex with that night, people to serve you, to make sure you're on schedule, to take you back to the airport. Not much more than that. Not pretending they'll miss you, just being jealous of having to stay in the same boring city, with their personal problems and circumstances. Without the certainty of having more money that they could spend in five life times. Without the certainty of having someone to spend the night with or an unlimited open bar and partners to party at any time of the day or night. Be in Tokyo one day, Sidney and Moscow days after. All the same. Drugs and girls. That life that you find in any city in the world in less than fifteen minutes. Trust me on that.