This is the first chapter of a book I'm working on. It's about a former rock star trying hard to stay out of retirement. I don't know if it's humor or horror myself. I decided to go with horror since I know it's going to be pretty violent.
Gary Stevens’ days of glory were behind him. During the eighties he was the lead guitarist in the world famous band Horizon Dime. Some reporter had once called them the greatest heavy metal act this side of the moon. He used to be married to some super model (he’d forgotten her name long ago), he had more kids the world over than he cared to count and he had seen enough of psychiatrists and rehabs to know it was way too late for any of that now. The only thing that was left of Gary was his guitar play. Although old school, he could still swing that axe with the young guns and outclass most of them, at least in his own mind.
Horizon Dime split up in the early ninties. After that he toured with several bands for a few years, but nothing seemed to work out. Some band, he’d forgotten the name of, left him in a bar at some airport in France. Of course it took him a while to wake up and notice the band was gone along with the plane. If bands didn’t kick him out for his constant drinking it was his constant fighting with reporters or he’d run off because of some broad he was afraid he’d knocked up. Once he punched a waiter at a burger joint somewhere in Europe for not serving him whisky. Gary didn’t even realize he had been in a burger bar when the police locked the cuffs on him and stuffed him in the back of their car.
After a few years of living as a bum on the streets of Europe making a living as a street musician he finally met her. She just walked up to him one day when he was sitting outside a restaurant playing on that stupid acoustic guitar he’d found in the trash somewhere and asked him, “Excuse me, are you Gary Stevens?” Turned out she was a manager for some band and she could help him get back to the states if he signed with her. She couldn’t promise him any great deals but Gary had at least been famous so she said she might be able to get him something. He signed up and Carrie had been his manager ever since.
After a few drunken studio sessions, a few disappointed audiences and a few very upset studio owners Carrie and Gary were out of options. Carrie knew one last guy she could call. She made it very clear to Gary that this was going to be the end of the line. The only thing for him to drop back on after this gig was going to be rock bottom. Without any questions asked, Gary told her to make the call. The next day they met with a young guy wearing an expensive suit. His name was Stanley, of course he called himself Stan the Man, and Gary had met the kind several times before and didn’t like them too much.
Stan said he knew Gary from his days in Horizon Dime and was more than happy to have him aboard. Stan wanted him to play guitar in a local TV- programme on Friday nights. Great, Gary thought, finally a regular gig. “Who’s the audience?”, he asked. “It’s our biggest kids’ show and we really need a guitarist.”, Stanley had a disgusting end of the line smile on his lips. Gary couldn’t believe his ears, but at least it was TV. Somebody with a real job offer in mind might see it, he thought. “I’ll be out of here and on a serious show in a few weeks.”, he told Carrie and shook Stan’s hand to seal the deal.
Friday night again. Was this the third or fourth? Gary was afraid of counting them. He was supposed to be out of this gig in two weeks and now he was on week three or four. One or two too many, what does it matter? He took another sip from the bottle. His dressing room seemed to get more depressive every week. The face looking back at him from the mirror seemed to get a little bit older every week. Another sip. His brown eyes seemed to be sinking further into their sockets. The wrinkles in his cheeks seemed to get deeper, the once so black hair seemed to contain a new string of grey each week and the hairline’s ascend toward the top of the hill seemed to increase speed day by day. Another sip. At least the hair still had the same length. He’d kept the hair long for two reasons, it used to get him laid and how could you be a heavy metal guitarist without it? He could hear the kids going wild out in the studio. Big sip. Fucking kids.
A knock on the door. Gary quickly opened a drawer in the make- up table, threw the bottle in it and closed it fast. Carrie walked in, Gary couldn’t tell whether she’d seen him closing the drawer or not.
“Are you ready?”, Carrie seemed to be her usual self.
“For what’s awaiting me out there?”, Gary put on his beautiful smile. “Give me another thirty years an’ I’ll let you know.”
“Jesus Christ, Gary.”, Gary could tell she knew she was drunk. “You’re supposed to be playing with kids in five minutes and you’re wasted?”
“Not wasted, pretty far from it, actually.”, Gary had been wasted more times than anybody could count and in his current state he was actually far from it.
“Well, drunk anyway. I told you this was the last gig I could get you, if you blow this it’s over.”, she grabbed his chin between her thumb and pointing finger. “Do you even care?”
“Can I get back to you on that one?”, Gary leaned back to get his face out of her grip and opened the drawer.
As the drawer opened Carrie grabbed the bottle. “If you have another drink I’m walking and you know that nobody else wants to have anything to do with you.”
“You’re right. You’re always right. I’m not too drunk to play yet, so don’t you worry about a thing.”, Gary got up and picked up his guitar. “Let’s go see the little darlings.”, he said with a way too big and too friendly smile on his face.
“I’m worrying more and more every day, Gary. But if you blow this it’s your ride, not mine.”, she said as Gary staggered out through the door.
Gary staggered through a long corridor. The sound of the screaming kids got closer for every step he took. The screaming made every step seem that much heavier than the last. In the old days the screaming from the end of the corridor used to light a flame somewhere deep inside his guts. Back then young broads were doing all the screaming, today the young girls in the audience hadn’t even got out of kindergarten. Gary looked down as he was strapping on the guitar and stumbled into something in the dark. “Damn the son of a bitch who put a pillar in the middle of the corridor.”
“Having trouble walking through an empty corridor?”, Gary immediately recognized Stan’s voice.
“Oh shit. Why are you standing in the dark?”, Gary was still fighting the shoulder strap.
“It’s my TV station and I like keeping an eye on my shows. Especially the live ones.”, Gary could tell Stan was in a bad mood, even though he wasn’t looking at him. “You’re not drunk, are you?”
“No, what makes you think that?”, Gary put his guitar in place and looked up.
“You walking into people in an empty corridor makes me wonder. Are you sure you're up for this tonight?”
“Just cue me and watch the magic.”, Gary tried to look as sober and ready as ever.
“Well, good luck.”, Stan let out a deep sigh and disappeared into the studio.
The host of the show was on the stage keeping his regular, boring welcoming speech. Gary was standing backstage waiting for his cue, he could see some of the kids in the audience. He felt perfectly calm, not nervous at all. Instead he felt a little scared. Performing sober, or semi sober, in front of an audience had always made him nervous. But not tonight. And that scared him a little bit. He looked at the red light right above his head. “Don’t you start shining before I’ve found some nervousity somewhere, you bastard”, he thought. That boring speech was still going on out there. The jolly happy motherfucker making an ass of himself on his stage had just started presenting the songs the always great and funny guitar magician Gary Stevens was about to play for the jolly little bastards sitting in the audience. “It’s amazing how many times an idiot can squeeze in the word jolly in one sentence.”, Gary thought to himself with a smile. Right then Gary heard his name being mentioned out there, the music started playing and the light went on. “I thought we had a deal you bastard”, he said out loud looking at the red light.
In Gary’s imagination it was 1986, he was at the Lyceum in London. The audience was full of screaming girls who all wanted to go back to the hotel with him after the gig. He put his shades on and walked out into the spotlight looking as cool as ever. While walking he started playing his guitar. He was concentrating on the music and totally forgot where he was. “Just like the old days.”, he thought. He staggered a little, he looked down to find his step and barely managed to keep his balance. When he looked up again the Lyceum disappeared into a black hole in the back of the studio. The audience changed from twenty- year old hot girls to screaming, druelling kids. Gary missed the chord. He felt like flying through the air and he could see his feet leaving the stage. He felt kind of funny seeing the stage getting smaller at first and then it went past him, as if he was falling from it. He landed on something quite soft. The music stopped and there was a lot of screaming and whining. Gary threw up, something was moving under him, and everything was getting dark.
Gary woke up in his dressing room to a distant voice yelling somewhere, the voice was getting closer and it sounded a lot like Stan. The voice was banging on Gary’s eardrums. Gary opened his eyes and saw a huge vein ready to burst in Stan’s forehead. Gary wanted to raise his hands to cover his face in case it would explode. He could see Stan’s lips moving but he was shouting far too loud for Gary to be able to hear him. The vein was growing, he raised his hands and covered his face.
“What the fuck are you doing?”, Stan’s entire face was red.
“Taking cover in case that thing bursts.”, Gary pointed at Stan’s forehead.
“Oh, that’s it you fuckin’ burn out, you’re out of here.”, Stan opened the door and shouted into the corridor. “Security.”
“I can walk myself, you know.”, Gary got up.
“Are you sure? You didn’t do such a good job of it out in the studio.”
Suddenly Gary’s memory showed him a film clip of him flying off stage. “What happened?”, he was afraid of hearing the answer.
“You were too drunk to play and you fell off stage and landed on a few kids.”, Stan crossed his arms over his chest. A security guard walked in.
“What happened to the little aliens?”, Gary was hoping they were all right.
“You called, sir?”, the security guard spoke to Stan.
Stan motioned to the security guard to hold on. “You landed on two of them. One of the children, a six year old girl had to go to the hospital and I haven’t heard anything yet.”
“Oh shit. That’s bad, right? But it could’ve been worse.”
Stan started shouting again. “It could’ve been worse? Just how do you think it could’ve been worse?”, Stan motioned to Gary to shut up. “The only thing that could’ve made things worse would’ve been if you would’ve thrown up on somebody and you did, so there’s no fucking way you can make things worse than they already are. Throw him out, please. As painfully as you can.”, Stan turned to the security guard.
“My pleasure, sir.”, the guard grabbed Gary and threw him out of the building into an ally.
Did you ever wonder what happened after the Archangel Michael through the demons out of heaven? Let one of them guide you through the origin of evil in the world.
