Status: Finished
God Bless the Children of the Beast
No control
We had barely gotten back to our chaotic little hometown LA when both bands began work on new records. Motley’s manager was constantly pushing shows wherever possible. To which the guys spent all their money on alcohol and useless things. They soon started work on their new record, but not without time for partying. Broken however was now bunking in an apartment together and focused entirely on the record.
“Guys, check out this riff.” I said, immediately playing it. Rocky picked up his bass and followed along perfectly, being an expert on the instrument’s workings. Austin began humming, swaying back and forth as he’s gotten used to. He still wasn’t as theatrical a performer as Vince Neil, but he accomplished our goal. We had a strange crowd attraction. Kids that looked like they should be at both Motley Crue and Black Sabbath shows came to our venues on a nightly basis to watch our performance. It was a strange blending of cultures that I found thrilling and unique. Imagine, headbangers, mosh pits, and guys in glitter all in the same place. I didn’t understand how we accomplished such a feat. However, without playing as many shows as Motley to work on our new record, we were falling behind.
Jake had picked up the beat a minute ago and suddenly stopped. “Woah woah woah.” He said, holding his sticks in the air dramatically. We all groaned and stopped as usual. “What now Jake.” Rocky asked, glaring at the younger drummer. “It’s all off.” He complained. “It’s just you.” I insisted, wanting to continue working. He glared at me, then turned his gaze to Rocky. “Well I think it’s his fault.” “Me?!” The blonde asked incredulously. Jake folded his arms with contempt. Rocky wasn’t one to start a fight, and I could see he was trying to hold back. “Everybody shut up!” I yelled. After a moment of silence that I commanded Austin finally spoke up. “I think Jake’s right, but it’s not Rocky. There’s something off about your riff.” He suggested. I kept my temper low. “Alright, what’s wrong?” I asked. He explained his thoughts and I adjusted, pleasing the band. The second time around Austin started spitting out random lyrics, and I made sure to memorize them.
We finally managed to get the song together, minus a few lyrics and harmonies, and I headed out immediately for a break. I didn’t understand how something I wanted so much could cause me so much grief. In the end our producers and managers would sort it all out and get the album mastered with their professional opinions, since the band itself could never agree on something. Luckily we had once again worked our asses off, and were scheduled to have our next album out before Motley’s. Maybe we could get a month or two long break and play some more clubs around the Strip before they sent us on the road again. Truthfully we only had a few months in this place to start with before we were tossed onto the glam-metal bandwagon and shipped off to Canada.
“Sami!” A voice called. I sighed and glanced up expectantly at the familiar sound. Nikki waved from the balcony above me. I stopped and stuck my hands in my pockets as he ran downstairs. This happened every time he was home. We would walk to wherever, spend money on something useless, and talk about our lives. It was good to have a friend to confide in, even if…no, I couldn’t think that. I don’t want to lose my friend.
His front door opened and he stood there, giant hair ragged and uncombed, ripped leather pants and no shirt, smelling like he hasn’t showered in a week. He jumped the short distance from his doorstep to the sidewalk and engulfed me in a hug. Instead of grabbing a 20 and heading down the street though, he smiled at me. “What’s up?” I asked curiously. “Come inside, I wanna show you something.” I shrugged and followed him in. We went up to the Motley hell house which smelled just as bad as him. “You should take your trash out.” I mused, glancing outside. He acted like I hadn’t said anything and led me to his room.
“Stay here, I’ll show you in a minute.” He said, shutting his door on me. I sighed and leaned on the wall, wondering what he was up to this time. I tried to distinguish how many rats must be crawling in the panel behind me by the different sounds they made. This place is pitiful. A few moments later he re-emerged, wearing an outfit that I couldn’t even begin to describe. “What in the hell is that?” I managed to ask, hiding a smile. It looked pretty cool actually. He could probably tell I liked it, as he could always tell what I was feeling, and spun around like a model. “You like it? It’s my outfit for our next album.” “Outfit?” I asked, he never ceased to surprise me. “Wait! Here’s the best part.” He added, pulling out a little jar from his pocket. He smeared some stuff on his face, then tossed the jar into his room. He now had stripes to match. I couldn’t help it, I smiled. “You look great.” I complimented honestly. I wish our band was coordinated enough to make kickass outfits. He beamed. “Well, let’s go.” He said, pushing past me. “Looking like that?” I said, again, he never ceases. “Yeah, why?” He asked. I shrugged and motioned for him to continue.
We walked down the street to our usual pitstop, a gas station about a mile away. “So how’s the band doing?” Nikki asked. I sighed dramatically. “The same as usual.” I began, launching into how we never get along. He just nodded as usual, only commenting if I ask him to. It bothered me that he never said anything. Just before we got picked up by Elektra he was telling me that the band would collapse, why be silent now? I finished my rant about the time we arrived at our gas station. We grabbed a Slurpee each and sat outside on the curb.
He watched the people go by, almost staring, just as they stared at him. When he glanced my way I could see both happiness and anger in his faded green eyes. I caught a sense of our youth, when he used to disappear from Nona’s house and come back upset. I could also tell that those days were long since gone. I don’t know what he went through since the second grade, but it wasn’t good. “I won’t see you much soon.” He said suddenly, disturbing my thoughts. “Why?” I asked, sounding more upset than I meant to. “Touring.” He said simply. I nodded my acknowledgement. If things kept up the way they were now, Motley would just get bigger and bigger, hopefully Broken would too, and we would most likely be separated for good. “When will I see you?” I asked. He grabbed my hand quickly, surprising me. We stared at each other. “We’ll see each other eventually.” He promised, standing up and dropped his hold. I didn’t like what I saw in his eyes just then, but I didn’t say anything. Neither one of us could control our futures at this point.
“Guys, check out this riff.” I said, immediately playing it. Rocky picked up his bass and followed along perfectly, being an expert on the instrument’s workings. Austin began humming, swaying back and forth as he’s gotten used to. He still wasn’t as theatrical a performer as Vince Neil, but he accomplished our goal. We had a strange crowd attraction. Kids that looked like they should be at both Motley Crue and Black Sabbath shows came to our venues on a nightly basis to watch our performance. It was a strange blending of cultures that I found thrilling and unique. Imagine, headbangers, mosh pits, and guys in glitter all in the same place. I didn’t understand how we accomplished such a feat. However, without playing as many shows as Motley to work on our new record, we were falling behind.
Jake had picked up the beat a minute ago and suddenly stopped. “Woah woah woah.” He said, holding his sticks in the air dramatically. We all groaned and stopped as usual. “What now Jake.” Rocky asked, glaring at the younger drummer. “It’s all off.” He complained. “It’s just you.” I insisted, wanting to continue working. He glared at me, then turned his gaze to Rocky. “Well I think it’s his fault.” “Me?!” The blonde asked incredulously. Jake folded his arms with contempt. Rocky wasn’t one to start a fight, and I could see he was trying to hold back. “Everybody shut up!” I yelled. After a moment of silence that I commanded Austin finally spoke up. “I think Jake’s right, but it’s not Rocky. There’s something off about your riff.” He suggested. I kept my temper low. “Alright, what’s wrong?” I asked. He explained his thoughts and I adjusted, pleasing the band. The second time around Austin started spitting out random lyrics, and I made sure to memorize them.
We finally managed to get the song together, minus a few lyrics and harmonies, and I headed out immediately for a break. I didn’t understand how something I wanted so much could cause me so much grief. In the end our producers and managers would sort it all out and get the album mastered with their professional opinions, since the band itself could never agree on something. Luckily we had once again worked our asses off, and were scheduled to have our next album out before Motley’s. Maybe we could get a month or two long break and play some more clubs around the Strip before they sent us on the road again. Truthfully we only had a few months in this place to start with before we were tossed onto the glam-metal bandwagon and shipped off to Canada.
“Sami!” A voice called. I sighed and glanced up expectantly at the familiar sound. Nikki waved from the balcony above me. I stopped and stuck my hands in my pockets as he ran downstairs. This happened every time he was home. We would walk to wherever, spend money on something useless, and talk about our lives. It was good to have a friend to confide in, even if…no, I couldn’t think that. I don’t want to lose my friend.
His front door opened and he stood there, giant hair ragged and uncombed, ripped leather pants and no shirt, smelling like he hasn’t showered in a week. He jumped the short distance from his doorstep to the sidewalk and engulfed me in a hug. Instead of grabbing a 20 and heading down the street though, he smiled at me. “What’s up?” I asked curiously. “Come inside, I wanna show you something.” I shrugged and followed him in. We went up to the Motley hell house which smelled just as bad as him. “You should take your trash out.” I mused, glancing outside. He acted like I hadn’t said anything and led me to his room.
“Stay here, I’ll show you in a minute.” He said, shutting his door on me. I sighed and leaned on the wall, wondering what he was up to this time. I tried to distinguish how many rats must be crawling in the panel behind me by the different sounds they made. This place is pitiful. A few moments later he re-emerged, wearing an outfit that I couldn’t even begin to describe. “What in the hell is that?” I managed to ask, hiding a smile. It looked pretty cool actually. He could probably tell I liked it, as he could always tell what I was feeling, and spun around like a model. “You like it? It’s my outfit for our next album.” “Outfit?” I asked, he never ceased to surprise me. “Wait! Here’s the best part.” He added, pulling out a little jar from his pocket. He smeared some stuff on his face, then tossed the jar into his room. He now had stripes to match. I couldn’t help it, I smiled. “You look great.” I complimented honestly. I wish our band was coordinated enough to make kickass outfits. He beamed. “Well, let’s go.” He said, pushing past me. “Looking like that?” I said, again, he never ceases. “Yeah, why?” He asked. I shrugged and motioned for him to continue.
We walked down the street to our usual pitstop, a gas station about a mile away. “So how’s the band doing?” Nikki asked. I sighed dramatically. “The same as usual.” I began, launching into how we never get along. He just nodded as usual, only commenting if I ask him to. It bothered me that he never said anything. Just before we got picked up by Elektra he was telling me that the band would collapse, why be silent now? I finished my rant about the time we arrived at our gas station. We grabbed a Slurpee each and sat outside on the curb.
He watched the people go by, almost staring, just as they stared at him. When he glanced my way I could see both happiness and anger in his faded green eyes. I caught a sense of our youth, when he used to disappear from Nona’s house and come back upset. I could also tell that those days were long since gone. I don’t know what he went through since the second grade, but it wasn’t good. “I won’t see you much soon.” He said suddenly, disturbing my thoughts. “Why?” I asked, sounding more upset than I meant to. “Touring.” He said simply. I nodded my acknowledgement. If things kept up the way they were now, Motley would just get bigger and bigger, hopefully Broken would too, and we would most likely be separated for good. “When will I see you?” I asked. He grabbed my hand quickly, surprising me. We stared at each other. “We’ll see each other eventually.” He promised, standing up and dropped his hold. I didn’t like what I saw in his eyes just then, but I didn’t say anything. Neither one of us could control our futures at this point.