Love Will

by Lori L. Otto

  I shouldn’t have done that. Regret is already weighing heavily on my conscience. I’d made it seven weeks on this tour without a hook-up. Now I have to start at fucking zero. Plus, this girl thinks she earned the coveted role of my girlfriend by giving me a hummer. If only the world worked that way, Lola. Harsh realities, sweetie.

  I’m such a dick.

  “There he is!” Damon says, standing up and applauding me when I walk into the darkened room. Dim sconces on the walls are the only sources of light except for a cool fixture behind the bar made out of colored glass bottles. He’s surrounded by four women, Tavo and Peron at one table, but there are other tables around him that are obviously part of the party, too. Everyone follows his lead and claps at my entrance.

  I take a bow and laugh, then head over to where everyone’s gathered. “Make room for Will,” Damon says, signaling for one of the ladies to leave. Immediately, a waitress is at the table, asking what I’d like to drink. I look around, giving my standard order.

  “A Coke.” She starts to walk toward the bar across the room, where Jaff has now returned. He’s ordering a drink for–fuck. Lola. “Miss? Waitress?”

  “Her name’s Erica,” Damon says.

  “Erica!” She turns around. “Wait, you know what? Do you like beer?” She nods her head. “Bring me your favorite one.”

  “Do you like light or dark beer?” she asks.

  “Surprise me.” When I turn around, Tavo, Peron and Damon are all staring at me like I’ve grown horns. “What?”

  “Did you forget that you don’t drink?” Peron asks me.

  “First time for everything, right? I just feel like celebrating a little.”

  “You don’t celebrate with beer, man,” Damon says as I take the place to the left of one of the girls sitting next to him. He reaches around her to pat me on the back. Erica sets down a small glass and pours an incredibly dark beer with thick foam into it.

  “Locally brewed. Bourbon County Stout. You look like a man who can drink.” She winks at me before taking Damon’s order for three bottles of champagne.

  “Yeah?” I ask her. Can, or needs to, I wonder.

  Tavo picks up the bottle and inspects it. “Fourteen-percent ABV. Go easy,” he leans across the table to say to me.

  “It’s just a beer.” I shrug my shoulders, and after the foam dissipates, I take a sip. “Damn, that doesn’t taste anything like the beer I used to sneak when I was a kid. It’s, like, chocolate… and caramel. Fuck, I’m drinking alcohol-laced candy,” I say, laughing. “Not bad.” It’s pretty bitter and heavy, but easy for me to drink. Damon tips the rest of the bottle into my glass when I’ve devoured the first pour.

  Erica brings another waitress with her to help divvy up the champagne that was ordered.

  “This is how we celebrate,” my best friend says as he hands me a glass. “To you and Where Your Horizon Meets Mine, which is the best fucking song I’ve ever sung.”

  “It was incredible,” the girl next to me says, putting one of her hands on my arm. The other girls chime in.

  “Next time, Peron and I play, too,” Tavo says. “I feel left out.”

  “Definitely,” I say. “The bridge in the middle–the way Peron and I wrote it for the whole band–the way it builds–it’s phenomenal. Standing ovation-type of phenomenal.”

  Peron nods. “We can practice tomorrow.”

  “No, tomorrow, we ain’t workin’,” Damon says. “Day off means day off. We’ve earned it.”

  “Cheers to that,” I say as I clink my glass to his and down the whole flute of the light, bubbly drink. It’s, like, the polar opposite of the first drink.

  “Try this one,” Erica says as she leaves another beer in front of me.

  “Avery the Beast. Sounds terrifying,” I tell her, grinning.

  Tavo examines this bottle, too. “She’s trying to get you drunk. That shit’s sixteen-point-seven percent ABV.”

  “You realize your numbers have no significance to me. It’s like me trying to have a conversation with you about the Schrödinger equation.”

  “Stop throwing around your big calculus words.”

  “Quantum chemanics. Chem… Mechanics.” I shake my head. “Tongue-tied,” I say.

  “I’ve never seen Will drunk,” Damon chuckles. “This is gonna be fun.”

  “What is going on here?” Ben says, looking over at me, still wearing my shirt. Peron glances at it, confused.

  “I was about to ask the same thing… something you’re not telling us? Ben? Will?”

  “I’m taking one for the team,” Ben says. “And this shirt’s getting burned after tonight.” He pinches the ends of my Red Hot Chili Peppers tee between his fingers.

  “The hell it is,” I tell him. “John Frusciante gave that to me when I was nineteen.”

  “Really?” Ben asks.

  Damon answers for me while I drink my beer. “He happened to be at a bar we were playing at. Told Will he’d never seen so much talent in such a young guy. That was literally the shirt off his back.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Swear to God. He said he expected to be wearing a t-shirt of Will’s band one day.”

  “I’m wearing John Frusciante’s shirt?”

  I see Jaff approach the table with about eight girls. I make brief eye-contact with Lola, but decide the bottom of my beer glass is much more interesting right now. Please don’t acknowledge me.

  “I wanted to make some introductions,” he says to us.

  “Please do,” Tavo says.

  “Ladies?” Jaff speaks to the three girls left at our table, and they immediately get up, taking their cue to be dismissed. Damon holds the hand of one of them, keeping her at the table with us. Ben sits at one of the empty seats as I reach for the champagne bottle and pour myself another glass, feeling the sweat begin to break across my forehead. “Feel free to spread out to some of the other tables,” our host says after telling us all their names. Ben is on his feet immediately and puts his arm around Lola, guiding her to a secluded booth in the corner. She watches me as they walk away.

  “That’s not awkward at all,” I mumble.

  “Huh?” Peron asks.

  “Never mind.” I’m just grateful she showed no sign of recognition when we were introduced. I guess it’s not the end of the world if she says something to Ben. It just shows I’m weak; that I’m human. I think they all knew that about me already.

  The ladies linger even after Jaff walks away. “Did you want to sit down?” I ask, standing up quickly to offer a chair. My feet don’t move as fast as I expect them to, and I nearly fall flat on my ass. Instead of being chivalrous, I’m caught by two of the girls. “Sorry.” My head is suddenly spinning. “Go, sit down. Really,” I encourage them, blinking hard to try to get my wits about me.

  One of them listens to me and lets go of me, but only because Damon’s there to hold me up.

  “Can you stand up on your own, man?” he asks.

  “Fuck you, I am,” I say back to him. He and the girl both let go, and I stumble again. “What the hell?”

  “That shit hit you fast. Sit your ass down. Excuse us,” Damon says to the girl who just sat down in my chair.

  “Sorry,” I say to her, taking my seat back. “I think I saw s’more chairs somewhere.”

  “They’re at every other table, Will,” Peron says sarcastically. “Every. Other. Table.”

  “Right. Go pull one up and sit next to me,” I suggest to her, smiling.

  “Oh, here we go,” I hear Tavo say, laughing. I’m not sure if she’s really pretty. She looks kind of blurry, honestly. I squint to try to make out her features clearly. Yeah, she’s hot.

  “Did you like my song?” I ask her when she sits down.

  “I did.”

  “Do you understand it?”

  “I… think so. It’s talking about when you see someone for the first time.”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Don’t be a pompous dick, Will,” Damon
says. “Let her interpret the song the way she wants. That’s the beauty of music.”

  I close my eyes, smile and nod at her. “Yes. That’s exactly what it’s about.”

  “You’re funny,” she tells me. “And pretty fucking attractive. What are you on?”

  “Huh?”

  “What are you taking?”

  “Nothing. Just having a few drinks.”

  “You know what I like with a few drinks and an attractive guy?” she asks, leaning in and whispering in my ear.

  “What?”

  “Molly.”

  “Molly,” I repeat. “Molly, huh?”

  “Sweetheart?” Damon says, getting between us. “You slip him anything, you’ll have to deal with me. Don’t fuck with his head. This brain?” he continues, pressing the pad of his finger against my temple. “One of the most brilliant minds of our generation, and that’s not an exaggeration. Will’s an astrophysicist who’s taken some time off to do me a huge favor by playing guitar for me. I intend to return him to New York in the same shape he left. You understand?”

  “Damon, Damon, Damon,” I say. “It’s fine. I’m drunk. I’m not stupid.”

  “You’re Will Rosser, son of an alcoholic and a dope head who swore off drinking when he was sixteen. You got drunk tonight; therefore, you’re temporarily stupid. Don’t argue with me.”

  “You said this was gonna be fun, watching me be drunk,” I remind him, backhanding him at waist level and almost hitting his junk on accident. “Sorry.”

  “Yeah, that was before I realized you’d be a liability.”

  “Come on,” Peron says, putting his arm under my bicep.

  “Back off, Per.”

  “Will, seriously, don’t. Let’s go grab a bite… get some fresh air or something. You want to come back in an hour, fine. I’ll come back with you. But you need to sober up a little bit.”

  “Everything okay?” Ben asks, standing behind Peron.

  “How’s your date?” I ask him, squinting into the distance to try to see the girl that I was up close and very personal with earlier tonight.

  “She’s cute, right?”

  “Not bad,” I tell him with a nod. “She into you?”

  “I think so.”

  “Loooo-laaaa,” I say, extending the syllables. “That’s a name, huh?”

  “Yeah, Will. It is a name.”

  “Help me get him down the stairs, will you, Ben?” Peron asks.

  “What, he can’t walk?”

  “I can fucking walk,” I argue, getting up and concentrating on putting my right foot in front of my left. My legs are heavy.

  “Like an ape, you can walk,” Ben says. He and Peron flank my sides, throwing my arms over their shoulders.

  “Still love you, man!” Damon yells.

  “I know!” I shout back at him, struggling to keep up with my manager and my bandmate. “Molly was cute, too,” I comment. “Did you see her?”

  “Her name wasn’t Molly,” Peron says.

  “Oh, yeah,” I say. “The drugs were Molly.”

  “She gave you Molly?” Ben asks.

  “No, no, no,” Peron says. “That’s why we’re getting out of there, though. She made the suggestion, and our boy seemed to be considering it.”

  “If you do that shit, I’ll do more damage to your brain than that stuff will do. Do you understand?” Ben threatens. “Damon will kill me if you start messing with that shit.”

  “You’re not my mom,” I mutter. “Damon’s not my dad.”

  “Shut up, Will. Concentrate on these steps.” I nod, opening my eyes wide and focusing hard on making sure my feet make contact with each one before putting my weight down. Once we’re at the bottom, Ben hands Peron the keys to the bus.

  “Wait,” he says, stopping us and taking off my shirt. “Can I?” he asks, motioning to the button-down he’d given me earlier.

  “You wanna see me naked, Ben?” I tease him.

  “Yeah, take it off,” he says.

  I start to make a production of unfastening the buttons, but my lack of coordination makes it a little difficult. I have to look down to see what I’m doing. I suddenly feel like a child. “You have short arms, Ben. D’jya know that?”

  “Whatever.”

  “Like, T-Rex arms.”

  “Shut up.”

  Peron laughs as I do an impression of him, my arms folded into my body, tugging at the shirt but unable to reach with my exaggeratedly-shortened limbs. “Dude, how do you even get to your–”

  “Take him to the bus,” Ben says.

  “Dick?” I finish my sentence loudly, still grasping fruitlessly and laughing with my bassist.

  “Assholes.”

  After he walks off, I put my cherished t-shirt back on, feeling more like myself again. “That’s inside-out, Will.”

  “Fuck if I care.”

  “Can you make it to the bus, or do you need to lean on me?”

  “I can. I’ll do it.”

  My head is pounding and my mouth is completely dry when I wake up. I’m wishing my bunk was on the other side of the bus, because the flimsy curtains over the window aren’t doing anything to keep the sun out. Normally, it’s my biggest ally. Today, I curse the thousands upon thousands of years it took to form. It’s definitely making matters worse.

  “Peron!” I yell. He doesn’t answer. “Peron! I need some aspirin and some water.” I hear people moving around in the bus, but no one’s answering me. “Peron! Ben! Damon! Tavo! Someone, please! I’ll do your fucking laundry this week.”

  A woman’s hand pushes back the curtain and hands me what I’ve asked for. “Water. Aspirin.” It’s Lola. Oh, fuck, what did I do last night? She closes the curtain without saying another word. After swallowing the pills, I set the water down on the thin window ledge and check out my attire. Boxers only. But boxers… that’s good. I don’t think I slept with her. But why is she here?

  Everything from last night is hazy. I definitely remember Lola before I went to the bar. But after having a few drinks, I’m not even sure how I got to the bus. What if she helped me here? Are we the only ones here?

  Shit. I get out of my bed, looking both ways to see her in the living room area, putting on makeup. She smiles at me, and I smile back. I reach under the draperies covering Peron’s bunk, finding his arm and gripping it.

  “What?!” he shouts.

  “Peron?” I whisper.

  “What?” He pushes back the curtains to see me.

  “What did I do last night?”

  “Not sure,” he says, shaking his head. “You disappeared for awhile.”

  “I did? For how long?”

  “Like, half an hour… then you came to the bar and got soused.”

  “Oh, then, yeah… I know where I was then… I meant after… did I sleep with that girl? Lola?”

  He leans out of his bed to see who I’m talking about.

  “Her?”

  “Yeah. Did I sleep with her?”

  “You wish,” Ben says, coming out of his room and leaning against the bathroom door, speaking softly enough so she can’t hear us. “She was this angelic, sweet girl when I was talking to her at the bar, but holy shit… she was downright nasty in the bedroom. In a good way,” he adds, as if we could have possibly misunderstood him while he was telling us, wearing his most disgusting, salacious grin.

  “You, uh… you had sex with her?” I ask him.

  “A few times, yeah. She’s incredible.”

  “Good for you,” I tell him. “Good. For. You. So I’m clear?” I ask Peron. “I didn’t, uh… with anyone?”

  “I’m surprised you made it to your bed. By the way, you did decide to take off your clothes in the parking lot. I stopped you from stripping entirely, and you’re welcome. But, uh… I’d check YouTube at some point today.”

  “Fuck, really? You recorded it?”

  “I didn’t… there were some fans hanging around. It was entertaining.”

  “My brothers are gonna see that.”
/>
  “Maybe they won’t come across it.”

  “I’m never that lucky… wait, weren’t we supposed to be in a hotel?” I ask Ben, scratching my head.

  “Didn’t want you getting sick all over everything. Someone had to watch you–Peron volunteered… and I like my bed. Damon and Tavo took the suite.”

  “Damn it. Peron?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Never again.”

  “Got it.”

  Chapter 6

  The cold air off Lake Superior whips against my face as I sit alone on the damp, craggy coastline. I have to yank my hood back over my cap to keep the thing from blowing off. Finally, I pull my sweatshirt down enough to secure the hood in place and tuck my head on my arms to watch the storm in the distance.

  The distinct lack of another soul anywhere around confirms my current lunacy, but the crashing of the waves and the sound of the wind is drowning out all the other noise in my brain at the moment, so I’m staying put. It’s either the noise, or the numbness caused by the drop in the temperature, I’m not sure. I’m still staying put.

  The ambiance fits my unsettled mood perfectly. My frustration is reaching a boiling point. I’m not sure how I can keep this up. Every night–and every gig–there are half-a-dozen girls that I see myself with. While I’m playing, when I’m in that other stream of consciousness, I imagine myself living out any number of fantasies with a woman, and I feel fine about it. As soon as the music stops, though, I remember that’s not the life I really want. My brain tells me that, but how am I supposed to shut down a sex drive that’s literally taken me anywhere I’ve wanted to go my entire adult life? It’s becoming impossible.

  How is it that I can want and not want the same thing at the same time? I feel like my body’s at war with itself, and there’s no way I can win. I watch Damon every night, finding some girl, or a few of them… finding some way to continue his life like nothing’s changed from when we were back in Brooklyn. It’s earlier than expected, but we’re making enough money now that Ben’s getting us a hotel room after every gig… not for sleeping, and not really for all of us. Mainly for Damon, and sometimes Tavo will make use of it if Damon’s escapades don’t go all night. I’m sure if I slipped up, Damon would step aside for me in a heartbeat. He’s generous like that.