Bodies - Rewrite
Chapter One
That had been two weeks ago. Two long long weeks ago. Macy was still mad at him it seemed, but the other two had lightened up considerably since their gig at `The Royal Tavern`. John was busy bundling his dirty, creased laundry into the machine, he was having a long, hard think, about the band and why he had even joined in the first place. Their morals had changed and he didn't like it. When he had signed up they had promised a sense of equality and lighthearted fun. What a lie.
John sighed, it wasn't that he didn't like the band, infact he loved it, he loved the feeling of being immersed in his art, being so lost in the music that he often spaced out for hours at a time. That was the life. His problem was with the band members...well one in particular. Simon was mostly a decent guy and he could be a right laugh at times. Macy was the hindrance, she tended to take herself so seriously and blame everybody else for her mistakes, in her own eyes she was perfect, in everyone else's she was an obnoxious cow.
John smirked and emptied out the pockets of some jeans before stuffing them into the washer, Macy was a weird creature. Annoying and a pain in the arse, yet, they really couldn't do without her. She wrote the music, she was the stage presence, with or without her it was a lose, lose situation. He slammed the door shut and set the machine to spin as he slumped into the moth eaten sofa not two feet away. He lived in an open plan apartment that he shared with his old college roommate Kyle. They had been best friends since the beginning of secondary school, he had met him when Kyle and his friends had been the most popular guys in school. John had crossed them, defending a small, weedy but friendly boy they had been picking on. They didn't like this, well, all but Kyle, he had seen a spark in John as no one had ever stood up to them like that. They had been best mates since, even though they both received complimentary black eyes and split lips to go with their friendship from the other guys.
The TV set emitted a low hum as John flicked through the channels, trying to find a station that you at least had to have a small amount of intellect to understand. The media thought that people were so dense nowadays, people were gullible and easily led, there was no denying that, but they weren't stupid. That was a silly assumption to make but it was made and the population were being slowly transformed into mindless clones. John sighed heavily, feeling sad at the sorry state of the world today, he wished he had lived in the 60's and 70's, the eras of free love and anarchy, the times when people wouldn't just sit and be force fed, they would state their opinions and make sure they were heard through any means possible. He looked to the posters on his otherwise bare and patchy walls, they were a representation of these times, from the frayed edges of his striking black and white Ramones poster to the fresh, spunky block colours of that of the Sex Pistols film advertisement, these remnants of those amazing few years spoke out in volumes to John, they spoke of a better time and better people with amazing opportunities and lifestyles and a carefree `fuck you` attitude. John was a resident of the seventies trapped in a modern world. He swore he had been born in the wrong generation and he refused to accept that he was even part of today's culture of washed out yuppie dropouts and glory hunters. People like that made him sick, the world today made him sick which was why he tried to phase it out and pretend like nothing had changed. Even though he hadn't even been born in the period he aspired so much to be a part of he thought he understood it, it's cultures and morals, or lack of, made perfect sense to him, it was so...free and who could argue against freedom? It was one of the basic human rights.
The face of Sid Vicious leered down at him, his infamous smirk apparent on his jeering face. The fate of that one legend was one that John knew he would avoid. He would never allow himself to be like that, a mindless druggie who would do anything for a fix. Sid was one of his idols but he hated the way that the bass player went. It was without dignity and pride. Sid basically killed himself in the end. John knew that Nancy hadn't helped but she couldn't be totally open to all of the blame. Sid had had a choice, he could have said no. A lot of the greats had gone in similar ways, Jimi Hendrix, Dee Dee Ramone, the list went on and it couldn't be counted on fingers. John had vowed to never let that happen to himself, he hated how drugs made him feel so powerless, he liked to have full control of his body at all times. He did like a tipple at times but he thought that that wasn't as bad and that everybody deserved to let loose once in awhile.
John jumped slightly as the keys scraped in the barrel of the door, Kyle was obviously home from work. He had a part time job at the local supermarket, the rest of his time was spent at the university or the university student union bar.
“Hiya mate” Kyle nodded as he stepped lightly over the threshold of the doorway,
“Hi, why you back so early dude?” John queried, thinking he had the apartment to himself all afternoon,
“Lecturers' sick, decided to bunk” A muffled reply came from the fridge as Kyle rummaged through it, “Jen's comin' round in a sec” He added as an afterthought as he straightened, pulling a can of Tetleys Bitter up with him.
“Ah...right...and you want me to keep out of your way?” John frowned, knowing how this routine went. He would have to find some place to go for a few hours, maybe a bar or pub. He wold look like a bit of a sad case going alone though.
“Well you don't hafta...” Kyle relented, sounding asthough he felt a little bit bad.
“No, really, I'm outta here, it's fine” John did not want to be around to hear or witness any of that. He stood up and pulled his coat from the rack by the door, “Have fun, say safe” He winked and opened the door, ducking out of it quickly before Kyle could reach him to playfully hit him across the ear. Johnny sighed, shaking his head and started to make his way to the flight of steep and grubby stairs that adorned the corridor. He took the stairs two at a time, his long legs making easy work of them. As he reached the bottom he passed Jennifer. He smiled and hurried out of the door, not wanting to hang around her. He knew he was obvious when he was around her, she probably knew everything without him even saying a single word to her about the matter. When she was around he usually lost the ability of speech, he would also have random coughing fits and flushed cheeks. Yeah, he was no actor, that's why he was in the music business as a freelance writer for the local newspaper. He wrote the album and single reviews every week. The pay wasn't amazing, but, with his gig money he got just enough to live comfortably on. He wasn't a millionaire but he reckoned overall that he was a pretty lucky guy.
John sighed, it wasn't that he didn't like the band, infact he loved it, he loved the feeling of being immersed in his art, being so lost in the music that he often spaced out for hours at a time. That was the life. His problem was with the band members...well one in particular. Simon was mostly a decent guy and he could be a right laugh at times. Macy was the hindrance, she tended to take herself so seriously and blame everybody else for her mistakes, in her own eyes she was perfect, in everyone else's she was an obnoxious cow.
John smirked and emptied out the pockets of some jeans before stuffing them into the washer, Macy was a weird creature. Annoying and a pain in the arse, yet, they really couldn't do without her. She wrote the music, she was the stage presence, with or without her it was a lose, lose situation. He slammed the door shut and set the machine to spin as he slumped into the moth eaten sofa not two feet away. He lived in an open plan apartment that he shared with his old college roommate Kyle. They had been best friends since the beginning of secondary school, he had met him when Kyle and his friends had been the most popular guys in school. John had crossed them, defending a small, weedy but friendly boy they had been picking on. They didn't like this, well, all but Kyle, he had seen a spark in John as no one had ever stood up to them like that. They had been best mates since, even though they both received complimentary black eyes and split lips to go with their friendship from the other guys.
The TV set emitted a low hum as John flicked through the channels, trying to find a station that you at least had to have a small amount of intellect to understand. The media thought that people were so dense nowadays, people were gullible and easily led, there was no denying that, but they weren't stupid. That was a silly assumption to make but it was made and the population were being slowly transformed into mindless clones. John sighed heavily, feeling sad at the sorry state of the world today, he wished he had lived in the 60's and 70's, the eras of free love and anarchy, the times when people wouldn't just sit and be force fed, they would state their opinions and make sure they were heard through any means possible. He looked to the posters on his otherwise bare and patchy walls, they were a representation of these times, from the frayed edges of his striking black and white Ramones poster to the fresh, spunky block colours of that of the Sex Pistols film advertisement, these remnants of those amazing few years spoke out in volumes to John, they spoke of a better time and better people with amazing opportunities and lifestyles and a carefree `fuck you` attitude. John was a resident of the seventies trapped in a modern world. He swore he had been born in the wrong generation and he refused to accept that he was even part of today's culture of washed out yuppie dropouts and glory hunters. People like that made him sick, the world today made him sick which was why he tried to phase it out and pretend like nothing had changed. Even though he hadn't even been born in the period he aspired so much to be a part of he thought he understood it, it's cultures and morals, or lack of, made perfect sense to him, it was so...free and who could argue against freedom? It was one of the basic human rights.
The face of Sid Vicious leered down at him, his infamous smirk apparent on his jeering face. The fate of that one legend was one that John knew he would avoid. He would never allow himself to be like that, a mindless druggie who would do anything for a fix. Sid was one of his idols but he hated the way that the bass player went. It was without dignity and pride. Sid basically killed himself in the end. John knew that Nancy hadn't helped but she couldn't be totally open to all of the blame. Sid had had a choice, he could have said no. A lot of the greats had gone in similar ways, Jimi Hendrix, Dee Dee Ramone, the list went on and it couldn't be counted on fingers. John had vowed to never let that happen to himself, he hated how drugs made him feel so powerless, he liked to have full control of his body at all times. He did like a tipple at times but he thought that that wasn't as bad and that everybody deserved to let loose once in awhile.
John jumped slightly as the keys scraped in the barrel of the door, Kyle was obviously home from work. He had a part time job at the local supermarket, the rest of his time was spent at the university or the university student union bar.
“Hiya mate” Kyle nodded as he stepped lightly over the threshold of the doorway,
“Hi, why you back so early dude?” John queried, thinking he had the apartment to himself all afternoon,
“Lecturers' sick, decided to bunk” A muffled reply came from the fridge as Kyle rummaged through it, “Jen's comin' round in a sec” He added as an afterthought as he straightened, pulling a can of Tetleys Bitter up with him.
“Ah...right...and you want me to keep out of your way?” John frowned, knowing how this routine went. He would have to find some place to go for a few hours, maybe a bar or pub. He wold look like a bit of a sad case going alone though.
“Well you don't hafta...” Kyle relented, sounding asthough he felt a little bit bad.
“No, really, I'm outta here, it's fine” John did not want to be around to hear or witness any of that. He stood up and pulled his coat from the rack by the door, “Have fun, say safe” He winked and opened the door, ducking out of it quickly before Kyle could reach him to playfully hit him across the ear. Johnny sighed, shaking his head and started to make his way to the flight of steep and grubby stairs that adorned the corridor. He took the stairs two at a time, his long legs making easy work of them. As he reached the bottom he passed Jennifer. He smiled and hurried out of the door, not wanting to hang around her. He knew he was obvious when he was around her, she probably knew everything without him even saying a single word to her about the matter. When she was around he usually lost the ability of speech, he would also have random coughing fits and flushed cheeks. Yeah, he was no actor, that's why he was in the music business as a freelance writer for the local newspaper. He wrote the album and single reviews every week. The pay wasn't amazing, but, with his gig money he got just enough to live comfortably on. He wasn't a millionaire but he reckoned overall that he was a pretty lucky guy.