Carnage Boxset

by Jones, Lesley

  “What the fuck, Marls? What the… You dirty bastard. You dirty fucking bastard,” Lennon ranted. “You spunked all over me. I actually have your spunk on me, Marley,” he whined.

  “Chill the fuck out, dude. What're a few bodily fluids between brothers? We both slid out the same vagina, remember.”

  Lens eyebrows raised and his mouth hung open. He was finally silent for a few seconds.

  “What the fuck has that gotta do with anything?” His voice was starting to sound all girly and high-pitched. I ignored him.

  I could see that the girl that had just given me a knee trembler was Lori. She looked from my dick to Lens T-shirt with wide, blue eyes. Scooping my spunk off her cheek with the back of her finger, she proceeded to suck it into her mouth.

  “Good girl,” I praised her with a smile and leaned forward to kiss her. Len lifted her up and stood her on her feet.

  “Good girl? Good fucking girl?” Len continued to shout, his face red—purple, almost. I thought he was a bit pissed off … just a bit.

  “You, get your clothes on,” he shouted at Lori. “And you, you dirty fucker. Go and get in the fucking shower before I do you some damage.”

  “Bye, Marley. Thanks for a great night,” Lori said as she was about to head out my bedroom door.

  “Anytime, babe. Don’t forget, there’ll be six tickets at the door for Saturday night under the name of Cindy. They’ll get you backstage passes too, so I’ll see you then.”

  “Cool. Tell Maca I said bye.”

  Shit!

  Maca!

  My eyes met my brothers, which were looking a bit like they were about to bulge out of his head.

  “Please tell me he’s not in there with six birds too?” Len asked through gritted teeth.

  “No, he’s on his own.”

  “Well, thank fuck for that.”

  “He just had three grams of coke and two spliffs for company.”

  Lennon made a sort of choking noise, but I didn’t look at his face. I was too busy jumping off the bed and pulling on a pair of boxers to watch his reaction.

  I banged on Maca’s door. Nothing. I tried the handle, but it was still locked.

  “Maca, c’mon, get up,” I shouted, then continued banging with my fist.

  “Where’s Milo?” I called to Len over my shoulder.

  “In his room I s’pose. Why?”

  “We need to get this door open. He was a fucking mess last night. I checked on him once, but forgot to check back,” I explained.

  Len was already on the phone, calling down to Milo’s room. I continued to bang on the door, then used my shoulder to try and break my way in, but it didn’t budge.

  I looked around for something to unscrew the handle with and took in the empty bottles when another realisation dawned on me.

  “Oh fuck, Len.”

  “What?”

  “I think he might have a bottle of Jack in there with him as well.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Marls.” He moved and in an instant, he was beside me.

  “After three,” he ordered. We counted, then threw our shoulders against the door, but we didn’t stand a chance against the heavy hotel, standard fire door.

  There was a knock and Len moved to let Milo into the room. He promptly pulled a small leather case from his pocket and opened it up to reveal a set of alum keys and small screwdrivers. He had the door unlocked in less than a minute. Milo and Len rushed in, but like a coward, I hung back.

  I’ve never told anybody this, but in that moment, I knew. Don’t ask me how, but I just knew that one day, we would lose Maca.

  “For fuck’s sake,” I heard Len say. Seemed to be his favourite phrase for the day.

  “Get him up, Mi. Marls, get in here.”

  “Fucking hell,” was the first thing I said as the stench of vomit hit me.

  Maca was, luckily, face down in his own puke, lying across the bed.

  “Is he breathing?” my voice sounded as terrified as I felt.

  “Yeah,” Milo grunted. “Go and put the shower on. You can hold him up in there.”

  I headed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. It was one of those that sits over the bath, so no room for both of us.

  Milo dragged him in with his back against his chest as he held him under his armpits, lifting him and lying him in the bath. I took the showerhead off the slide rail it was on and sprayed water over Maca’s head, face, and chest, washing the puke away. He opened one eye.

  “Morning, Princess. Wakey, wakey, rise and shine. Don’t you know it’s breakfast time?” I repeated the greeting my mum had woken us up with all our lives.

  “Fuck off, Marls,” he croaked out.

  “Get showered, Maca. Get some coffee and some food inside ya. You’ve got a photo shoot in an hour and then a live to air interview. You go straight from that to the venue for a practice and a run through with the light techs,” Lennon barked at him. Maca proceeded to lean forward and throw up into his own crotch.

  “Dude,” I shouted as the smell hit me. “You have puke in your pubes. Not a good look man. Not. A. Good. Look.”

  Milo shook his head as he left the bathroom. Len paced the confined space, raking his fingers through his dark hair while Maca continued to dry-heave. He and Maca were gonna have one fucked up day, that was for sure.

  * * *

  The photo shoot was being done in Lennon’s room and by the time I got Maca organised, we were twenty minutes late. Billy, Tom, the photographer, and two make-up artists, as well as a hairdresser, were already there, waiting impatiently.

  Len had gone off to the airport to collect Jim, which was probably a good thing. It meant he didn’t get to witness our lead singer vomiting into a waste paper bin while having his make-up done.

  We were only five minutes into the shoot when Maca had to vomit again. He looked like shit and probably felt worse. The snapper followed him into the bathroom and I panicked, afraid that he was going to call off the shoot. Instead, he pulled out a bag of coke and offered him some to help liven him up.

  After borrowing Len’s toothbrush and downing a glass of water, along with a line up each nostril, we got our singer back. He still looked like shit, but at least he could keep his eyes open.

  By the time the photographer wrapped things up, the TV crew was there, along with the two presenters, waiting to interview us for some US afternoon chat show.

  The presenters were called Gary and Lisa, who had a talk with us first about the way they’d like the interview to go. I personally didn’t give a fuck what they asked, but the label and Len had pretty strict guidelines, and what happened in Europe the previous summer was a definite off-limits subject for any interviews. Luckily, Len got back before we went to air and made it clear that that topic would not be discussed.

  Maca had spent most of the previous half hour in the toilet, and I had a feeling that he bought the rest of the coke the photographer had from him.

  I caught Len turning to look at me, eyes wide and once again, looking like they were about to bulge out of his head. He twitched his nose like he was sniffing the air, just as the smell hit me.

  “Fuck!” Billy and I said in unison.

  I shook my head at Len and headed into his bedroom, banging on the door of the bathroom. Maca opened it and the smell of weed almost knocked me down. He stood in the doorway with a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “What the fuck, Maca? The people are here for this interview. You seriously need to get your shit together.” Even my patience was wearing thin at that point. Len must’ve been about to have a coronary, and if he’d seen Maca’s glassy-eyed expression, he probably would have.

  I sprayed some of Lennon’s aftershave over Maca and lead him back out to the living area of the suite where everyone was set up and waiting for us.

  We were directed to sit on the sofa; Tom on one end, Billy in the middle, Maca and I in the middle.

  The interviewers started by introducing the show and talking through the day’s topics.
The camera turned to us as they announced that we would be interviewed shortly.

  The whole thing was a pain as we had to sit quietly while they talked to the camera, but were allowed to speak when the show cut and ran a pre-recorded piece to air.

  I had to nudge Maca a couple of times when I saw his eyes start to close. He’d barely spoken a word the entire day, and I knew that he wasn’t in a good place. Fuck if I knew how I was going to get him through rehearsals and a show.

  Lisa and Gary finally started their interview with us and asked the usual questions to start: How did we meet? How long had we been together? Then she asked us about our musical influences and what made us want to become musicians ourselves.

  As usual, Billy and Tom kept their answers short, both explaining that it was all they’d ever wanted to do.

  “And you, Marley. I understand your dad’s a big music fan, and that you, your brothers, and your sister, all have music-related names. Can you tell me about that?” Lisa asked.

  I was a little taken aback at first because we weren’t usually asked about our families. All anybody wanted to know about us was who we were dating, and when was the next song gonna be released. I suppose because the show went out to an older audience, they’d mixed it up a little to what we weren’t used to. I cleared my throat.

  “Yeah, my dad’s a massive music fan. He loves all music and plays the guitar and piano pretty well himself. He always encouraged us as kids.”

  “There’s four of you, right?” Gary asked next.

  “Yeah. Bailey’s the eldest. He was named after some bloke that makes or designs guitars. I think my dad met him at some folk music festival or something back in the sixties, and I’m pretty sure that Bailey was his surname. Bails can play guitar, but doesn’t often. He runs the family building firm back in England with my dad. Lennon, my other brother, is our manager and I think his name, and mine, are both pretty self-explanatory.” I stop there, my eyes darting to Len’s who was standing behind Lisa off camera.

  “And you have a sister too, right?” Lisa continued.

  Fuck.

  “Yeah, my sister’s the youngest. She’s named after one of my dad’s favourite songs and singers.” I swallowed hard, hoping that I’d given them enough.

  “Which is?” Gary asked, looking amused.

  Lisa was leaning back in her seat, looking smug and I got goose bumps. Call it a sixth sense or just an acute awareness of arseholes, but my guard went up with where this interview was going. I’d not looked at Maca once during their line of questioning. I could feel the heat radiating from him as he sat next to me, but other than that, he sat so still and quiet that I wouldn’t have known he was there.

  “Her name’s Georgia, after the song, ‘Georgia on my Mind.’ Her middle name is Rae, spelt with an E, but after the great Ray Charles.”

  Lisa’s green eyes slide catlike to Maca.

  “And how is Georgia doing these days, Maca? Have you guys kissed and made up? Must make things awkward, dating your best friend and bandmate’s little sister?”

  Bitch.

  I watched Len cover his mouth with his hand and close his eyes for a few seconds as we all waited for Maca’s response.

  “From what I know, Georgia’s doing great and continuing with her education back in England,” he informed her.

  “So, you guys never got back together? That’s such a shame, but I hear that there’s no shortage of ladies who are only too keen to be seen on your arm. Are you seeing anyone right now?”

  “I don’t see what the fuck this has got to do you with you or any other fucker,” Maca snarled at her before standing up and pulling off his mic and earpiece.

  Lisa and Gary scrambled to apologise, cutting to an add break. I got up and walked towards her.

  “My sister is a little girl of seventeen, trying to put her life together after you cunts shredded it to pieces. Maca is still trying to come to terms with their breakup and the trouble he brought to her door. Their split has been very well documented and that was a spiteful thing to do to him on live television. I hope you’re fucking happy with yourself,” I told her, letting my voice rise with every word.

  Len was standing beside me. I thought I was about to get a bollocking when he simply said, “Not cool, Lisa. Seriously, not cool.” He turned to Billy and Tom who were still sitting on the sofa. “C’mon, we’re done here. They’re getting no more from us.” Len told them. Turning back to the two presenters, he continued, “Pack your shit up and get out of here.”

  “Now wait a minute,” The shows director, or whoever the fuck he was, stepped in. “We still have another twenty minutes of the show to broadcast.”

  “I don’t give a fuck. Play some music, show some ads, I don’t care. Just get the fuck outta my room,” Len shouted.

  “Boys, go back to Marley’s room, now. Milo, stay here and make sure they pack up and go,” he ordered everyone before heading out the door and up the corridor towards my room.

  “What the fuck is going on, Marls? Maca’s a mess,” Billy asked.

  “Yeah, thanks for stating the fucking obvious, Bill.”

  “Fuck you, Marls. Tell Len I’ll be in my room. I’m not going back to your room to watch Maca fall apart. I love the boy like a brother, but he seriously needs to put his hand up his arse and pull himself together.”

  “Thanks for your sympathy. I’ll be sure to pass it on,” I spat out as Billy let himself into his room.

  Tommy put his hand on my shoulder as I stopped outside my room to take a few breaths before heading in.

  “Sorry, Marls. You can count me out too. My Mrs. is in my room waiting for me. I don’t need to watch Len burst a blood vessel over the state of Maca. Tell him to call my room if he needs me. I’ll see you at rehearsals.” Tommy patted me on the back before he too deserted me.

  “Yeah, see ya in a bit, Tom.”

  I remained standing outside my room for a few more seconds. I felt helpless. My best mate was a fucked up mess and I didn’t know what to do about it. I wanted to get drunk and off my face right along with him, but I knew that what he needed was for me to look after him. Perhaps it wasn’t a bad thing that he’d finally reached his breaking point. The timing couldn’t have been worse, but maybe he was ready to allow his head and his heart to move on, and not just his dick.

  I could hear shouting from inside the room and the door swung open. Jimmie stood there, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “What the fuck, Jim? What happened?”

  “Your brother, that’s what fucking happened,” she sobbed.

  I stepped forward and wrapped her in my arms, still holding the door open with my shoulder. Len was standing, looking out the window as I looked into the room. His fingers were laced together, hands behind his head.

  “Come back in here,” I said to Jim, guiding her back into the suite. “What the fuck’s going on?” My question was aimed at whoever wanted to answer me. Apart from Jimmie’s soft sobs, I was greeted with silence.

  “Where’s Maca?” I asked.

  Len swung around from the window.

  “Ask that silly cow. She let him go storming off.” Len stated.

  Jimmie pulled away from me and turned around. “He’s a grown fucking man. He doesn’t need my permission to go anywhere. How the fuck was I supposed to know to keep him here?” she shouted back at Len.

  “You weren’t. Don’t talk to her like that, Len. None of this is her fault.”

  Len tended to lash out at everyone when he was stressed. Jimmie was usually the calm one, but she’d just gotten off a flight from London, so I didn’t think she’d be feeling too chill.

  Len looked from me to her, then around the room. “I’m sorry. Come here.” He stepped towards her. “I’m so sorry, babe. I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that, and I’m sorry I was late picking you up.” I stood there and watched as my brother wrapped his girl in his arms as she cried, at least until they started kissing. That was when I decided it was time to go.


  “I’ll go and look for him. I doubt he’s gone far.” Again, I spoke to no one in particular.

  “Don’t leave the hotel, Marls. We’ve got a car coming at three to take us to the venue. I’m not having you go on the missing list too.”

  Without another word, I left them to make up.

  * * *

  I didn’t need to leave the hotel. I found Maca sitting on a stool at the hotel bar. He had a tumbler full of whiskey, or bourbon, in his hand.

  “I’ll have a Jack and coke, please, mate,” I tell the barman as I sit down next to him.

  “You doing all right?” I asked.

  “What d’ya reckon?” Maca replied.

  “To be totally honest, I’ve no fucking idea what’s going on in that head of yours these days, Mac. I thought you were getting over things. I thought you were moving on, but apparently, the only thing that’s done that is your dick. Your head and your heart seem to still be stuck firmly in Georgia territory.”

  “The same, please,” he told the barman as he put my drink down.

  “We’ve got a car coming to pick us up at three for rehearsals.” I felt like Lennon now, getting on his case, but fuck. If he carried on his drinking, on top of the night and the morning he’d had, he wouldn’t be fit to fart, let alone perform for an hour and a half.

  He turned his brown eyes on me and I just knew he was about to give me shit, so I was shocked when he said, “If I was just to turn up now, just turn up and make her listen, what d’ya reckon she’d do? Would she listen? Does she even care what this is doing to me?”

  “Mate, whatever you’re going through, she’s feeling it too, but you’ve gotta remember…” I trailed off, trying to think of how to word it. “Not only is she missing you and the rest of us, even being a part of this, but she also feels betrayed, and I’m so sorry about that. I really am sorry that this has all been caused by my stupid, selfish actions, but from what I’m hearing, she’s getting on with her life and like I keep telling you, it’s time for you to do the same.” My heart was pounding in my chest as I waited for his reaction. My stomach twisted in knots at the guilt that I felt, but I couldn’t change things. If I could’ve, I would’ve in a heartbeat.