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| To Live is to Die | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: March 5, 2008, 12:49 am (59,953 Views) | |
| Virtual Bettie | November 29, 2008, 8:48 am Post #376 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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James, James, james. Our little accident prone, easy distracted friend. What have you gotten yourself into this time? Just as I was starting to get annoyed with him and his whole "woe is me" riot act, something happens to him. I guess this is how Charlie feels, maybe he knew something bad was going to happen . Hmmmmm...... Nice chapter, keep up the good stuff. |
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| neonguitarstrings | November 30, 2008, 2:41 am Post #377 |
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Bad Seed
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:| oh god. |
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| Metalicious | December 3, 2008, 9:25 pm Post #378 |
Blackened
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I flew down the stairs, barely registering the indignant shouts of people I shoved past, and hollered at the concierge to get me a car before I’d even reached the lobby floor. Bursting out the front doors of the hotel, I looked around for the car, breathing hard. Seeing the black car pull up, I jumped in the front passenger seat, panting out the name of the club, and buckled the seat belt as we pulled away from the curb. I had Lars’ assistant on the phone in seconds, trying to find out what the hell was going on, and where the best entrance was to get to the guys. He advised me to come to the front and he’d meet me with security. We pulled up out front, and I climbed out, watching the rush of people still streaming out. Police cars were in abundance, and I saw three ambulances over to one side. Trying to clamp down on the fear that shot through me at the thought of the guys being in the middle of all this, I pushed through the crowd, showing my security pass to the guards who were herding everyone outside. I’d barely made it inside before I saw Steven, cell phone in one hand, waving at me wildly with the other. Two enormous men in black Metallica jackets escorted me over, and we sped across the concrete floor, onto the stage and down the back stairs, til we finally reached the little suite of rooms reserved for the band. Steven explained that two of the guys in the audience had been injured, and James had jumped into the pit in some sort of stupid rescue attempt, but that everyone else was fine. I could see Kirk and Lars off to one side, while Rob was at the other end of the room, talking to some of the techs. “Where is he?” I asked Kirk, trying to keep my voice calm and steady. "He's outside," Lars said quietly. "He’s not hurt. I'm not gonna tell you not to go out there, Charlie, but I think he wants to be alone." "I won't stay," I promised. "I just-" "You don't need to explain," Kirk said, gently pushing me out the door. "Just go see him." I jogged down the ramp, passing the crew who were loading up the buses. Stepping over coiled wires and crates, I saw a lone figure off in the distance, leaning against one of the vans. He was still sweaty, his hair damp, black shirt soaked through, a towel slung over his shoulder. He didn't look up when I approached. He looked so tense, the corded muscles in his neck standing out, like every part of him was strung tight. "James?" His head snapped up, the movement so violent that I backed up. “Were you here?” he demanded, incredulous. “Were you in that mess?” He stalked towards me, panic washing over his pale face. “N-no,” I stuttered. “I was at the hotel. I heard what happened. I wanted to come and see you, see if there was anything you needed, or anything I could do." I so desperately wanted to reach out for his hand, touch his shoulder, any contact at all. "No,” he said gruffly. "Okay. Alright. But if-" "What?" I took a breath. "If you change your mind. It doesn't have to change anything, James. We can put everything aside. No drama, no James and Charlie relationship discussions, no talk about the future... We're still friends, James. I still want to listen if you need to talk. Or hang out in silence if you just want company." I felt like I was rambling. "I'm not asking anything of you. I'm just saying that if you ask anything of me... if you need anything, just say the word." He looked at me for what seemed like an eternity. "We were never friends," he whispered finally, turning away. He could have punched me in the face and it would have hurt less. "I'm going back to the hotel." I turned and then looked over my shoulder at him. "James?" He looked up. "I’m sure you did everything you could. This isn't your fault." I walked back past the buses and equipment, and knocked on the door to be let in. “How is he?” Kirk asked, following me down the corridor. “Shitty. I’m takin’ off. Will you…can you make sure he gets back okay?” He nodded, squeezing my shoulder. “Of course.” “Thanks, Kirk.” I hugged him. “How are you doing?” He shrugged, giving me a little smile. “Been better. That was some pretty scary shit. I’ll feel better when they call and let us know how those guys are doing. The paramedics said it looked serious but not fatal. Be nice to know for sure if those two pull through.” “They will. Call me if and when you hear something, would you?” I slid my messenger bag over my shoulder, pulling the hood of my sweatshirt out from under the strap. “You bet.” He rumpled my hair and took off towards the dressing room. “Charlie?” I turned at Lars’ voice, and found myself engulfed in a tight hug. “Hey,” I tried to hug him back but my arms were pinned to my sides. “I’m heading back to the hotel. Did you need anything before I go?” He shook his head, but kept his arms around me. “Okay.” I stood still, figuring he’d let go when he was ready. It wasn’t until I felt him shaking a little that I realized he was crying. “Oh, God. Oh, honey, Lars, come on, let’s go sit down. C’mon.” I wriggled out of his hold and led him over to the smaller dressing room, sitting down with him on one of the loveseats. “Can I get you something? Tissue? Alcohol? A groupie or two? Or five?” He let out a watery chuckle and shook his head, sinking back against the cushions. “God. Fock.” He rubbed a hand over his face, a gesture that both he and James did when they were stressed. “It’s just so fucked up. One minute we’re playing and the crowd’s going insane, and the next minute, these two kids are on the ground, bleeding, and security’s going nuts and James is trying to get in on it, and I couldn’t see if he was in the crowd from where I was…” I put a hand on his leg. “You thought maybe he was hurt?” He nodded. “And those kids, man, they were… they were just lying there. I could hear James screaming at the crowd and when everybody backed off, those two guys were just, trampled, y’know?” “They’re gonna be alright, Lars. The ambulances are out in full force, they’ll get everybody to the hospital.” He shook his head. “It’s just so fucking terrifying that shit like that can happen at a concert. People get so caught up and the energy is crazy and everyone’s pushing and nobody can hear two kids who were probably screaming their heads off when they went down…” Rob came into the room, holding out a beer to Lars. “Here, bro.” He nodded at me, gesturing to the door. “I got it from here,” he smiled. Kissing Lars on the cheek, I hugged Rob tightly, thankful he was able to take over. He hugged me back with his free arm, lifting me off the ground a little. “See you tomorrow, Tru.” “Later, bella,” he murmured. I caught a lift back to the hotel with one of the other assistants, and headed straight up to my room. I sank onto the couch, flicking on the tv to see if there was any further coverage of the incident at the show. Finding none, I switched it off again and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini bar. I felt wired from the evening’s events, but exhausted at the same time. Turning off the lights, I stretched out on the bed, not even bothering to change. A knock at my door at 2 a.m. had me bolting upright in bed. Hoping it was Kirk with news about the two boys, I swung the door open wide, squinting in the bright light of the hallway. James towered in the doorway, a bottle of wine in his left hand. His eyes were red, and he still hadn’t changed from the concert. “I don’t wanna talk,” he said in a gravelly voice. “But it’s you, or the wine.” I looked down. The bottle was unopened. “Well, that’s not even a good vintage,” I said, shooting him a weak smile. Stepping aside, I took the bottle when he held it out to me, and put it down on the carpet, hanging the do not disturb sign on the doorknob. He sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded in his lap. I stood in front of him, completely at a loss as to what I should do or say. But he spoke first. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said before,” he mumbled, looking up at me. “We’re friends.” I smiled, a real one this time. “I know.” He lifted a hand, and lightly trailed his fingers over my shirt, down my stomach, tucking one finger in the waist of my jeans. Tugging me forward, he put his arms around my waist, resting his head against my chest and sighing heavily. I kissed the top of his head, hugging him as best I could with him lower than me and rubbed a hand up and down his back. We stayed like that for a long time, until he finally lifted his head. I brushed his hair back from his forehead. “Stay?” Not a request, more of an offer. He nodded, sliding up the bed and kicking off his shoes. Laying so my head was higher up than his, I held up an arm, waiting for him to get comfortable, and lowered it again when he’d curled up beside me, his arm draped across my stomach, his head resting in the crook of my neck. I could feel how tense his back muscles were, and gave him a reassuring squeeze. He shifted, moving his hand under my shirt, warm fingers on my waist, and slid a leg in between mine. It was how we’d always slept together, limbs tangled, wrapped up with each other. Seemingly satisfied with this new position, he relaxed, and I could feel his breathing start to slow. “See you in the morning,” he mumbled against my skin. I could see the digital clock on the nightstand. 2:17 a.m. I closed my eyes and wished for a really late sunrise. |
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| Taimi | December 4, 2008, 5:29 am Post #379 |
Junior OSA Council member
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WHEW! I thought something nasty had happend to James, thank god he wasn't hurt. Hope those 2 kids are all-right. That was a sweet ending to the chapter, I see hope on the horizon, lol. |
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| Scorpion Flower | December 4, 2008, 5:58 am Post #380 |
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Outlaw Torn
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I was waiting for some sex!!! Oh God i'm glad nothing happened to the guy but he was a bit tough on her, she was just trying to help, but then you can say pretty stupid things when your head is boiling.
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| Samyzvezda | December 4, 2008, 12:20 pm Post #381 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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woah...luckely nothing bad happened to James... I'm glad he choose to go to Charlie's room instead of open the bottle of wine somewhere else... I hope he will get closer to Charlie like he was before rehab.... Can't wait!!!! |
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| elena | December 4, 2008, 12:30 pm Post #382 |
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Outlaw Torn
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I thought that James would jump on her,kiss her and...... .But it wasn't!It was also very good that he accepted to stay in bed with her all the night(with mention that for a long period of time they weren't so close). More,please!
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| Metalicious | December 16, 2008, 10:07 am Post #383 |
Blackened
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Sorry ladies ;) No nookie just yet... ***************************** The phone woke me at eight, and I blindly reached out a hand, lifting the receiver without opening my eyes. "'lo?" I mumbled into the phone. "Hey," James said quietly, and I shot up in bed. "How are you-" I looked around, and saw that he wasn't beside me. The side of the bed where he'd slept was rumpled and empty. "I left about an hour ago. I didn't want to wake you, but I didn't want you to wake up and wonder what was going on." Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I looked down and realized I wasn't wearing my shirt or my jeans. "Did you undress me before you left?" I asked him, totally confused. "No," he chuckled. "You hauled everything off in the middle of the night, while you were still asleep. I asked if you were okay and you told me it was hot, and then you just kind of snuggled up again and kept sleeping." Snuggling. That sounded nice. I wished I could remember it. "Did you sleep okay?" I asked him, wondering if he'd spent the night thinking about the show. He sighed a little. "I slept great. Lars sent me a text at seven, about those kids. They're gonna be fine, but one of 'em's got a broken collarbone, and the other one bruised, like, all of his ribs and has a concussion." He paused. "Thanks for last night, Charlie. I don't think I would have been able to sleep if I hadn't stayed with you." Slipping down under the covers a little, I yawned, stretching my free hand above my head. "No worries. It was nice having you here. Sorry about the late-night strip show, though. That was unplanned." "I didn't mind," he said softly. "Listen, I've got interviews starting in an hour, and Lars wants to go over some issues before then. I,um, I just wanted to say thank you. I know I demanded all kinds of space and asked you to leave, but I'm really glad you stayed." I took a deep breath, wondering if this was some kind of breakthrough, and if he was done needing space from me. "Still need that space?" "Yeah," he replied quickly. "For now." Holding the phone away from me while I let out a long, annoyed sigh, I put the phone back to my mouth. "Okay." He sounded surprised. "Really?" Shoving the covers back, I pulled out the top drawer of the nightstand, where the room service menu was. "Really, James. I told you I'm not going anywhere. You can have all the space you need, as long as I can stay on the tour. Sound reasonable?" "You sound like you're gonna throw a contract at me any minute now," he said, the grin audible in his voice. "Don't tempt me, Hetfield." "Later, Tyler," he said, chuckling again, and hung up. **************************************************************** I'd seen a tour rider for Metallica once. On a website, a long time before I'd ever met the band, and I thought at the time that it seemed like an awful lot of stuff for just four guys and some equipment. I had no idea. Lars, sensing that I needed a distraction, had invited me to shadow him for a couple of days. Posing as his assistant, much to Steve's amusement, I followed Lars around while he met with the media, conducted phone interviews, posed for pictures, and went over, in excrutiating detail, all the workings of the tour. The entire crew ran as a well-oiled machine. Flipping through the pages of one of the memos to the band, I stared in awe at the figure indicating how many people were involved. Three full crews - one with the band, one to go ahead and set up, and one to always be one step behind. The latter was something I wouldn't have given any thought to before Lars explained how necessary it was to be able to leave some shit for someone else to deal with after they'd left. Having been in the business for as long as they had, the guys had touring down to a fine art, but it was clear that they had help. Like, a lot of help. I was curled up in a chair beside Steven, trying to stay out of the way, while he helpfully pointed out who everyone was. "...and that guy?" "Guitar tech." "I thought the guy with the ZZ Top beard was the guitar tech." Steve looked at me, grinning. "There's more than one." After the first week, I had a lot of names and faces memorized. I'd been introduced to as many people as Steve and Lars could manage, given that everyone was always in a hurry and didn't necessarily have time to stop for niceties such as handshakes. Lars had given me a hoody with the Metallica logo on it, and my name in huge letters on the back. I was easy to spot and it didn't take long for people I had yet to formally meet to holler my name. Usually because I was in the way. "Charlie, don't move - rigging behind you." Or, "Charlie, you're in my light." Or, "Charlie, honey, you're standing on the extension cord." It got to the point where most of the crew, the bigger guys especially, would just pick me up and gently deposit me somewhere else. While a few crew members were wary of me because I spent so much time with the band, I was also accepted on some level as a neutral party, and invited to hang out with the techs and the roadies. I was so concerned with keeping busy and staying out of James' way, that I unwittingly became a part-time roadie myself. "You sure you don't want a hand with that?" Mike, one of the largest men I'd ever seen, asked after the Milan show. "Ya look like you're gonna have a hernia." I was leaning against one of the amps, pushing with all the strength I possessed. Grunting, I sagged against the amp and shook my head. "S'cool. I got it." He nodded, nonchalantly looking at his watch. "It's just that they're lockin' up in two hours and I figure it's probably gonna be that long before you move this sucker." Glaring at him, I resumed my efforts, and let out a loud stream of curses when it didn't move. Grinning, he wiped his hands on the rag that was always in his back pocket and rocked back on his heels. "I didn't know ladies used those kinds of words. My, my. What would Hetfield say?" "He'd ask if you were aware that I also speak sign language," I flashed him an evil grin and gave him the finger. He laughed, catching my hand and tugging me to one side. "Go round up the guys and see who's in for poker." I shot him a sideways glance. "You're letting me play?" "You comin' on the bus?" I nodded. I'd had to talk Lars into letting me go on one of the buses instead of the jet, but everyone was traveling together to the next city, and I'd been getting eyeballed by James all day whenever he was near me, so I figured I'd give him a little space. "Grab your stuff and get ready to empty your wallet, then," he winked. "I'll see you on there in twenty." |
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| Scorpion Flower | December 16, 2008, 10:38 am Post #384 |
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Outlaw Torn
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I don't know know what to think..Probably James wants to kill Charlie..but i'd so do the same thing she's doing... At least she's having fun. You go girl!!!
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| Metalicious | December 16, 2008, 11:15 am Post #385 |
Blackened
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LOL - thanks. You're so sweet for taking the time to comment. I always love seeing who's reading (helloooo online index that shows who's reading what), but comments make me even happier! |
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| Scorpion Flower | December 16, 2008, 12:38 pm Post #386 |
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Outlaw Torn
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I started reading your fiction long before i finally registerd in september. I also like when people leave comments.
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| elena | December 16, 2008, 2:53 pm Post #387 |
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Outlaw Torn
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I'm glad that you posted!Great story! When Charlie wondered why she is naked I thought that they had sex. Please,write as soon as you can!
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| Virtual Bettie | December 17, 2008, 4:47 am Post #388 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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Wow, nice chappie. I liked the 'it's you or the bottle' comment from James, at least he has it together enough to realize he was going hit the bottle. And I like that Charlie can still give him some space even after a night of comfort snuggling (which they both needed). Although I can totally believe James would try and rescue a couple of fans from being trampled by other fans, I didn't see that curve ball coming. I'm glad it wasn't "oh look James is hurt, everything is spanky clean and wonderful between him and Charlie now". It's a realistic curve ball, I think that's what I like best. This fic is one of the reasons why i joined the site, thanks for stoking its fire still and mine. |
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| Metalicious | December 17, 2008, 7:31 am Post #389 |
Blackened
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Thanks chicks. Here's a little more before I run off to work. Just a wee chapter. ************************ I didn't have much stuff. Most of my luggage had gone ahead with Lars and Steve. My bag that I kept with me contained my wallet, Blackberry, a book, my iPod, a handful of euros which I would undoubtedly lose in record time during poker, baby wipes and a very sturdy travel mug. Checking with Mike to make sure I was getting on the right bus, I climbed up and greeted Paulie, the driver. "Heard you were riding with us this evening, sweetie. Get bored of the jet already?" he asked, moving his legs so I could get by. "Just switching it up a little. How long a drive is it?" I dropped into one of the sideways bench seats, leaning back against the soft cushions. He flicked buttons on the GPS system. "Twelve hours, give or take." "Cool. You let me know if you get tired of driving, I can take over," I teased, and he batted my arm, telling me to go upstairs and get some sleep. Making my way to the back of the bus, I told Big Jim and Mick that I would be signing over my life savings to them shortly, and then headed to the upper deck of the bus to the lounge area. The seats around the table were usually jammed with crew members, but I was the first to arrive. I slid in to the far side, so nobody would have to climb over me, and Mick joined me two minutes later, tossing me a deck of cards. Big Jim was right behind him, holding out a mickey of whisky in one hand and a six pack in the other. "Sunshine, you sure you're up for this?" "Yeah," Mick grunted, and then looked up at Jim, grinning. "Oh, sorry. Were you not talking to me?" Smacking him in the head with the bottle, Jim slid in beside me, reaching out a beefy arm to lean past me to my bag. Pulling the baby wipes out without asking, he wiped down the table, and then handed the package back to me. "Thought I'd disinfect a little, what with princess joining us this evening," he grumbled. I glanced over at Mick, and then pulled a bunch of baby wipes from the pack, taking Jim's hands in mine and wiping them fiercely, before holding the wipes up to his face as if I were going to attack that next. Finally pulling away, he held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I'm clean. Jesus." "Princess...sunshine..." I muttered, putting the wipes back in my bag. "You wanna give me a nickname, buttercup, make it a good one." Scowling, he moved sideways, pushing me across the seat with his tree-trunk legs. "Buttercup?" I raised an eyebrow. "'Sunshine'?" Sighing heavily, he looked up as Mike arrived. "Your charity case is giving me a hard time," he said warily, not even flinching when I slapped his arm. "Behave," Mike warned him, laughing. "You want a drink, dollface?" Jim smirked into his beer. "She doesn't like nicknames." I looked over at him. "I don't like stupid nicknames. Don't call me something you use to refer to everyone. Make it unique. And yeah, I'd love a drink." Mike held up a bottle of Wild Turkey. "Sadly, we don't have any mix." I passed him my travel mug. "I don't mind. Just don't fill it." The rest of the guys traveling with us boarded the bus, and several of them came back to join us for drinks. The novelty of having a girl on the bus was enough to cause a loud debate on whether or not I knew all the "rules", and where I was going to sleep. "Don't worry, I'm not sleeping," I assured them. "I'm taking the second shift for Paulie." Most of them laughed at that, but Big Jim turned in his seat, dark eyes staring at me with serious disapproval. "You're drinkin'," he said quietly. "We don't make jokes about bus drivers who drink and drive." It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I was Cliff's daughter, and knew as well as anyone that my joke was in poor taste, but I thought better of it, and simply apologized. "I'm sorry," I put a hand on his arm. "That wasn't very funny." Satisfied with that, he turned back to the table, demanding that somebody deal a hand. As if on cue, the bus started up, and shot ahead briefly before jolting to a halt. Everybody looked at me, probably expecting another comment on drunk drivers, and I stared resolutely ahead. "Not saying a word," I whispered. The bus lurched forward again and then continued on without any more hiccups. I lost all my money in the first round. Mike fronted me another fifty euros, and I sat out a couple rounds so as not to go completely broke. Drinking steadily out of my mug, I felt my lips start to go a little numb from the bourbon. Laying down my latest hand, my mouth fell open in shock when I realized that I'd actually won. "Maybe we should start callin' her Lucky," Jim muttered. We took a break from the poker, and a few guys took the opportunity to get more drinks, change out of their work gear, and use the facilities near the front of the bus. There were catcalls when the guys shrugged off their work shirts, and several hollers of "lady on board", and much show was made of covering my eyes and joking about how I'd never be allowed back on the bus if they didn't behave themselves. "Charlie's a nickname, ain't it?" Jim asked, shuffling the cards. "I guess so." I slid down in the seat a little, resting my arms on the table, closing the lid on my mug so I'd stop drinking for a bit. "Is that what most people call you?" "Nah. Most of 'em call me 'asshole'," I said dryly, and then grinned when he actually laughed. "Is Jim short for James?" He nodded, and then glanced over at it. "Except it's not really shorter, is it?" I smiled, shaking my head. "Guess not. Specially when you put the word Big in front of it. Is there a Little Jim, too?" He stared down at his cards, and I could tell he was trying not to smile. "Dirty!" I laughed, popping the lid on my mug again. Four hands of poker later, I was having trouble staying upright, and kept sliding down my seat, only to be righted again by Jim or Mick, who seemed to be taking turns keeping me off the floor. "Gin!" I announced triumphantly, laying my cards on the table with a flourish. Mick dropped his head. "We're playing poker, shorty," he reminded me. "Ohhh yeah. I guess I don't win, then." I pulled my legs up to my chest, jamming them against the table in an effort to stay in my seat. Peering over Big Jim's right arm, I was about to comment on his cards, when his catcher's mitt-sized left hand clamped over my mouth. "Mmphh!" "No talking until after I've laid down my cards," he said firmly. Sighing, I went quiet, breathing through his hand, very thankful I'd disinfected it earlier. He finally let go, placing his cards down, and gathered up the money on the table. One of the sound booth guys was staring at me intently across the table. "Lush?" he suggested suddenly. "Half-pint?" "Boring," I shot back. "What does everybody else call you?" Jim finally said, apparently tired of the 'let's find a nickname for Charlie' game. I tried to think. "Little one, baby girl, Princess, Tink, or just Charlie." "Nobody calls you Charlotte?" Mike looked at me curiously. "Not unless they're mad at me," I shrugged. "You mad at me?" "You let Big Jim take all my money," he grinned, flicking the joker card at me. "No, doll, I'm not mad atcha." "Tink?" Jim said quietly, appraising me from the corner of his eye. "As in Tinkerbelle?" He was shuffling the cards again, sliding them into each other over and over in a steady rhythm. I fidgeted with my mug, not keen on getting into the story of that particular nickname. "Something like that." He looked at the rest of the guys, and then back at me. "You want another shot of bourbon, Tink, or are you done for the night?" "It's a stupid name," I mumbled, a little nervous about how James would react if all these men started calling me his name for me. Fumbling with the ties on my hoody, I stared down at my knees. "Well, I like it," Mike announced, as if it was decided. "You're little, like a fairy. You've got blond hair... think we can find you some pixie shoes or a cute little green outfit?" "Maybe for Halloween. You wanna talk about this all night or do you wanna win some of your money back?" I challenged, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere before the name caught on. "Ooh, Tink's feisty," Snake teased. One of the guys responsible for lighting, he had the ability to wind his way through all the rafters and beams that were in every venue. Though he liked to say the name was for other reasons, none of which I would let him explain to me. "Enough! Bartender," I held out my mug to Mike. "More bourbon, please." |
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| Scorpion Flower | December 17, 2008, 7:52 am Post #390 |
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Outlaw Torn
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I like how Charlie is having fun. I'd skip the drinking part though, i'm not a drinker myself, and maybe the poker, i can imagine those guys cleaning my pockets in seconds... I just hope this trip doesn't end with another bus accident...somehow this have just crossed my mind. Maybe it's just the drama that is still in my head from writing "The day that never comes"..
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Oh God i'm glad nothing happened to the guy but he was a bit tough on her, she was just trying to help, but then you can say pretty stupid things when your head is boiling.

.But it wasn't!It was also very good that he accepted to stay in bed with her all the night(with mention that for a long period of time they weren't so close).
You're so sweet for taking the time to comment. I always love seeing who's reading (helloooo online index that shows who's reading what), but comments make me even happier!
Maybe it's just the drama that is still in my head from writing "The day that never comes".. 
8:39 PM Jul 10