We're Going to Rock N Roll Heaven
I Hope To See You There
Dreams never seemed so close to grasp, as they were now. It was a feeling in the air, able to grasp in the your sticky-from-sweat palms. Sweat, bass bumping, and screaming fans. Bright, colorful stage lights were blinding. There wasn’t a moment of being on stage that Gabe Saporta didn’t eat up. Not only were the fans screaming, but so were the speakers. Being on tour was unbelievable.
Gabe was as tall as a tree, with a dark complexion, and a flashy wardrobe. His dark brown eyes were full of life and energy, and it showed on stage.
Being on cloud nine was often described as being in love. Was it possible that there was another meaning? Or was it that Gabe was in love with performing?
Sex, drugs, and rock n roll are the key essentials to having a fun, busy life. Apparently, Gabe was living it up. After all, that’s what being a front man meant; sex, drugs, and rock n roll.
Getting a groupie to do anything was easy for most front men, Gabe included. Although, being extremely attractive and having a sense of humor seemed to add to the simplicity of the task. Blind, drunken nights were exactly what they’re cracked up to be. Until the morning headache comes.
Those groupies weren’t looking for love, though. If love was simply performing, and sex came along from fans, there wasn’t much of a point of holding a stable relationship, not that it would’ve been easy anyway.
Confiding in music was easy, as well. There wasn’t a point in whining and crying to a girl who would whine and cry back. Music was the perfect lover, allowing you to pour out your heart without excepting anything back. No affection, no jealousy, nothing.
Gabe was back at home today. White walls were closing in around him, like a padded room. This empty apartment had nothing to do with rock n roll…
Shots of vodka looked very promising. There was no need to sit up all night with a sober mind and think about being alone, without anyone. No, without music. The stereo wasn’t on, but that would change soon. There was no need to be sober, no need to feel lonely. A dreamless sleep followed, hours later. The stereo had finally stopped.
The following afternoon wasn’t very long. There was a plane to catch for the next show. Then, the only thing he ever needed would be there for the taking.
Waiting for a show to start was horrible; anticipation.
“Do you ever feel like being out here all the time is just too much?” Victoria, “Vicky-T”, his best girl friend, the key-tar player in his band, said.
“It’s exactly what I want,” Gabe said, “everything I ever need.”
“I miss being home sometimes,” Vicky said.
“This is home for me,” Gabe said, “when I get home…and I’m away from everything, that’s when I start to feel like it’s too much.”
“I like having alone time,” she said.
“I hate it,” Gabe responded, “Being alone makes me feel…alone…Yes, of course, ridiculous?”
Vicky laughed. “I know what you mean, though.”
“These shows are my entire life,” Gabe said quietly.
“That’s all you need?” she questioned.
“Yes,” Gabe responded.
Gabe was as tall as a tree, with a dark complexion, and a flashy wardrobe. His dark brown eyes were full of life and energy, and it showed on stage.
Being on cloud nine was often described as being in love. Was it possible that there was another meaning? Or was it that Gabe was in love with performing?
Sex, drugs, and rock n roll are the key essentials to having a fun, busy life. Apparently, Gabe was living it up. After all, that’s what being a front man meant; sex, drugs, and rock n roll.
Getting a groupie to do anything was easy for most front men, Gabe included. Although, being extremely attractive and having a sense of humor seemed to add to the simplicity of the task. Blind, drunken nights were exactly what they’re cracked up to be. Until the morning headache comes.
Those groupies weren’t looking for love, though. If love was simply performing, and sex came along from fans, there wasn’t much of a point of holding a stable relationship, not that it would’ve been easy anyway.
Confiding in music was easy, as well. There wasn’t a point in whining and crying to a girl who would whine and cry back. Music was the perfect lover, allowing you to pour out your heart without excepting anything back. No affection, no jealousy, nothing.
Gabe was back at home today. White walls were closing in around him, like a padded room. This empty apartment had nothing to do with rock n roll…
Shots of vodka looked very promising. There was no need to sit up all night with a sober mind and think about being alone, without anyone. No, without music. The stereo wasn’t on, but that would change soon. There was no need to be sober, no need to feel lonely. A dreamless sleep followed, hours later. The stereo had finally stopped.
The following afternoon wasn’t very long. There was a plane to catch for the next show. Then, the only thing he ever needed would be there for the taking.
Waiting for a show to start was horrible; anticipation.
“Do you ever feel like being out here all the time is just too much?” Victoria, “Vicky-T”, his best girl friend, the key-tar player in his band, said.
“It’s exactly what I want,” Gabe said, “everything I ever need.”
“I miss being home sometimes,” Vicky said.
“This is home for me,” Gabe said, “when I get home…and I’m away from everything, that’s when I start to feel like it’s too much.”
“I like having alone time,” she said.
“I hate it,” Gabe responded, “Being alone makes me feel…alone…Yes, of course, ridiculous?”
Vicky laughed. “I know what you mean, though.”
“These shows are my entire life,” Gabe said quietly.
“That’s all you need?” she questioned.
“Yes,” Gabe responded.