Rebel Yell

I was drunk, but I wasn’t telling the people dancing around me that because I was too much in my prime dancing away to give a shit about anybody else’s problems. Tonight was so much fun but still I felt guilty that I hadn’t invited Marci. I mean she was being hostile to my every nice gesture and I had really gotten to the point of giving up but still, I felt guilty.

Wait I know this song, I began bobbing my head again to Iggy Pop’s, The Passenger. It reminded me of the day we left on our very first tour and how naive we all were about everything.

“I am the passenger-” I sang loudly turning around in my little space I had made that evening and glanced at everyone who bobbed there head along with me. Except this time another person had begun to wiz around like I was, she looked beautiful. Her hair just spun around and I couldn’t glance at her face long enough to see who it was. She was gorgeous; I stopped in my place as the girl carried on dancing away singing to herself.

“la la la la la la la” she cheered holding up a can of beer before dropping her head quickly forward as she began to bob up and down again. I had never seen someone so out of place but yet, so fitted in. Her clothes, a purple dress, clung around her thighs and it made it even more mouth watering to look at her.

I could feel people’s deep intake of breath around me and I could feel their eyes stare at me at my sudden stop. Should I go and speak to her? Would she want to speak to me? Suddenly I felt conscious about not having a shirt on and I rubbed my arms nervous as the music came to a slowing end. I hoped she’d stop for a moment before the next song but she still twirled around in circles, kicking out her feet and swinging her hands into the air even before the slight beat of don’t stop believing started up.

The room felt like it was closing in on me, I’d have to do something as more people began to crowd the dance floor and I had begun to be separated from the girl. I pushed through the people till I saw her again, dancing away oblivious to my stares. I began to bob up and down along with her, hoping to synchronize my dancing with hers but her movements were so different I could hardly keep up.

I shuffled forward slowly keeping in time to the music and doing something that Patrick Swayze would have been proud of. I felt like I was in that movie dirty dancing and I wanted her to look up at me but even with the space between us at a bare minimum she had only stopped twirling.
People had begun to loudly chat behind me and a few people looked at me funny as I grabbed hold of her waist and ushered her closer to me. The music was coming to an end and I decided that on the last note that I’d hold her chin up and look at her before she wondered off. I could hear her deep exhausted breaths, breath onto my chest and her hand felt her way up to my sticky shoulder but quickly pulled away from me. Her body turned quickly away from my grip but she wasn’t going anywhere quick. She instead just stood with her back to me as someone speed up to her, knocking her can of beer out of her hand and on to her dress.

“Sorry” they echoed as they carried on across the dance floor, bastard. I rubbed the back of my neck and headed over to her, she looked quite lost now, as she looked up and down her dress before rubbing her forehead.

“Typical jerk” I smiled at her but her hair was still in her face, “come on, I’ll go help you get cleaned up” I patted her back and she shook her head before trying to drunkenly walk back to the tour buses. I laughed as she made it too the first table before trying to hold herself up. I followed behind her, after all she needed my help, “come on, I’ll walk you too your bus and then I’ll leave” I hooked her arm up before she had time to disagree and dragged her into the cold night outside. “I think you’ve had a little too much to drink, don’t worry I did that last week and puked over my boss” I tried to insert humour into the conversation that I seem to be having with myself. She stumbled behind me and led me over to a bench where she sat down with her hands in her hair. She was truly drunk! “I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it, everyone was talking about it” I giggled at the memory of the moment I had puked on Marci but it was overcome by the wave of guilt of a terrible idiot I had been to her for the past weeks.

“I know” her voice came out broken and she coughed a little before spitting whatever it was out onto the floor. “I get told everyday” I was glad she was talking now and I laughed a little at her groan of agony before patting her back.

“The name is Billie Joe” I held out my hand, after all what’s better than a formal introduction.

“I know” was all she said before she titled her head right up into the sky. Shit. It was Marci, Marci was here with me, wait Marci is here with me and drunk, wait Marci is here speaking to me. I blinked my eyes a couple of times before fully acknowledging she was there.

“Marci-“I spat aloud and she smiled and drooped her head towards me.

“Be quite Billie, I’m not supposed to be here because I wasn’t invited” she nodded her head forward before flinging it back up. I felt incredibly guilty now, being caught out wasn’t much fun. “I’m going to be sick” her voice burped and I slid away from her and she giggled. “5 minute warning Billie- run” She smiled and giggled before dropping her head downwards.

“Do you need a glass of water or-” I was truly concerned for her and it seem to sober me up quite a lot.

“I don’t need anything but thank you. Thank you for the music, the songs I’m” she burped as she stood up before twirling around “singing, thanks for all the joy your bringing” she smiled at me for the first in time in ages and I felt my nerves rest even though she was drunk.

“I think you need to go to bed, Rhodes” I stood up feeling the cold tingle on my back and figured that taking her inside would also benefit me for a cigarette and shirt as well as making sure she was fine. She stopped, closed one eye and pointed her finger at me,

“Now, where have I heard that before?” she giggled and did another twirl in front of me. I must admit Marci as a drunk was much more fun than Marci in a stubborn mood.

“Come one” I stood up and lead her into the tour bus.