have to be jealous? To tell me she was jealous, thereby making me all out of sorts. Sure, my ego loved it, but she had me second-guessing everything around me all of a sudden. Thinking of her and wondering how she’d feel about what I did and said.
I stood on stage at the Copperline late in the afternoon tuning my Rickenbacker bass. A replica of the one played by the late, great Lemmy from Mötorhead, a legend in bass-world that I’d idolized since I was a little kid.
My fingers danced across the strings, finding solace in the texture against my skin. Notes began to ring clearly. Mindlessly, I began to play, letting the rhythm come to me and flow through my body. To calm my frazzled nerves.
Until I realized that the other Mofos, also on stage warming up, were all staring at me with puzzled expressions.
“What the fuck are you guys all looking at?” I growled, instantly on guard.
“Something wrong, Justin?” Drew asked, clearly concerned.
Weirdly concerned.
Why was he concerned?
I narrowed my brows. “Why are you guys acting like a bunch of fucking vaginas?”
“Dude,” Cody said from behind his drums, “you’ve been sitting there strumming the baseline for Under Pressure for about twenty minutes.”
I snorted in response, rolling my eyes to amplify how full of shit I thought they were.
However, Drew nodded. “Either that or Ice Ice Baby , but I’m thinking Queen and Bowie are a bit more your speed.”
Shit , I totally had been. David Bowie’s words still echoed in my head.
Insanity laughs under pressure we’re cracking …
For a second, I just stared back at them in silent shock. So unlike me, but I didn’t have a retort. My entire brain was wrapped up in quiet whispers and wide brown eyes.
“Jaysus,” Denny muttered, his Dublin accent thick with surprise, “he’s away with the fairies.”
His Irishism yanked me from my frozen stupor… thank fuck .
“Fuck off, it’s got an awesome baseline,” I growled, shooting a glare to all three of them, landing on Denny last, “and speak English, you fucker.”
I was still all kinds of pissy as I stomped down the steps after our first set to see Ruth waiting at the bottom, a skirt that barely covered her ass and a top that didn’t cover much of her tits.
Any other time, I’d have been all over that. I even tried to be. Maybe I needed a good hard fuck. It had been a few days and I was under some serious pressure.
I walked over to where she stood, leaning my forearm on the wall above her. I allowed her to wrap her arms around me. To lift her lips up to mine.
But just before she kissed me, I felt a wave of something. Regret. Remorse. Something strange that had me wanting to pull back.
Weird .
My latest dream flickered through my mind, broken, yet so vivid. Ruth morphing into Rain. Rain’s seductive whisper.
Fuck me, Professor…
With a shake of my head, I dove in to kiss Ruth hard. Almost brutally. Desperately trying to drive this bizarre sensation from my mind. Ruth moaned, and, for whatever reason, the sound grated on my nerves. I tangled my fingers into her hair and jerked hard, causing her to pull away with a pained cry. For a split second, she almost appeared afraid of me.
I think I’m jealous...
I stared down at Ruth, unsure where my head was at and why I felt so cold and unstable. Closing my eyes with a sick feeling in my gut, I loosened my grip and stepped back.
“Maybe tonight’s not the best night, Ruth,” I finally said.
She nodded, still clearly rather shocked, and slipped away.
I turned to watch her more or less run away from me and once again caught sight of my bandmates. All three of them were frozen in pure astonishment.
For good reason.
This was probably the first time— ever —that any one of them had seen me turn down pussy.
Cody had been rendered speechless. He just stood there gaping at me.
“Bloody hell,” Denny gaped.
“What in the actual fuck?” Drew breathed.
What
I stood on stage at the Copperline late in the afternoon tuning my Rickenbacker bass. A replica of the one played by the late, great Lemmy from Mötorhead, a legend in bass-world that I’d idolized since I was a little kid.
My fingers danced across the strings, finding solace in the texture against my skin. Notes began to ring clearly. Mindlessly, I began to play, letting the rhythm come to me and flow through my body. To calm my frazzled nerves.
Until I realized that the other Mofos, also on stage warming up, were all staring at me with puzzled expressions.
“What the fuck are you guys all looking at?” I growled, instantly on guard.
“Something wrong, Justin?” Drew asked, clearly concerned.
Weirdly concerned.
Why was he concerned?
I narrowed my brows. “Why are you guys acting like a bunch of fucking vaginas?”
“Dude,” Cody said from behind his drums, “you’ve been sitting there strumming the baseline for Under Pressure for about twenty minutes.”
I snorted in response, rolling my eyes to amplify how full of shit I thought they were.
However, Drew nodded. “Either that or Ice Ice Baby , but I’m thinking Queen and Bowie are a bit more your speed.”
Shit , I totally had been. David Bowie’s words still echoed in my head.
Insanity laughs under pressure we’re cracking …
For a second, I just stared back at them in silent shock. So unlike me, but I didn’t have a retort. My entire brain was wrapped up in quiet whispers and wide brown eyes.
“Jaysus,” Denny muttered, his Dublin accent thick with surprise, “he’s away with the fairies.”
His Irishism yanked me from my frozen stupor… thank fuck .
“Fuck off, it’s got an awesome baseline,” I growled, shooting a glare to all three of them, landing on Denny last, “and speak English, you fucker.”
I was still all kinds of pissy as I stomped down the steps after our first set to see Ruth waiting at the bottom, a skirt that barely covered her ass and a top that didn’t cover much of her tits.
Any other time, I’d have been all over that. I even tried to be. Maybe I needed a good hard fuck. It had been a few days and I was under some serious pressure.
I walked over to where she stood, leaning my forearm on the wall above her. I allowed her to wrap her arms around me. To lift her lips up to mine.
But just before she kissed me, I felt a wave of something. Regret. Remorse. Something strange that had me wanting to pull back.
Weird .
My latest dream flickered through my mind, broken, yet so vivid. Ruth morphing into Rain. Rain’s seductive whisper.
Fuck me, Professor…
With a shake of my head, I dove in to kiss Ruth hard. Almost brutally. Desperately trying to drive this bizarre sensation from my mind. Ruth moaned, and, for whatever reason, the sound grated on my nerves. I tangled my fingers into her hair and jerked hard, causing her to pull away with a pained cry. For a split second, she almost appeared afraid of me.
I think I’m jealous...
I stared down at Ruth, unsure where my head was at and why I felt so cold and unstable. Closing my eyes with a sick feeling in my gut, I loosened my grip and stepped back.
“Maybe tonight’s not the best night, Ruth,” I finally said.
She nodded, still clearly rather shocked, and slipped away.
I turned to watch her more or less run away from me and once again caught sight of my bandmates. All three of them were frozen in pure astonishment.
For good reason.
This was probably the first time— ever —that any one of them had seen me turn down pussy.
Cody had been rendered speechless. He just stood there gaping at me.
“Bloody hell,” Denny gaped.
“What in the actual fuck?” Drew breathed.
What
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