The Beast, Redux >>>>>> -- Ladies of Lallybroch Literary Forum

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Date Posted: 21:31:31 08/23/09 Sun
Author:

Page
Subject: The Beast, Redux >>>>>>
In reply to: Page 's message, "A peek into Jay Carey's psyche" on 21:22:28 08/23/09 Sun

Excerpt from Carey On (working title)
©2009 by Juli Morgan
Posted for purposes of critique only, and does not constitute publication

Jay Carey paced around the room, his eyes on the girl as she followed his orders to disrobe. His body thrummed with the energy that had built up onstage earlier that evening, an energy that made him feel like he was connected to a high voltage electric wire, racing through him unchecked; a beast intent on devouring him unless he could satiate it. You’d think he would use it all up during the concert, but no. It just built higher and higher, increasing with every note he played, until he left the stage, dripping with sweat and stumbling with exhaustion, but still so keyed up he thought he might explode. Drugs didn’t help; he’d tried them all, and they did nothing but disorient him. Sex didn’t help, not really, but at least that release would quiet the beast enough so he could get some rest.

The girl was trying to be sexy as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, but he wasn’t interested in sexy. He just wanted to get laid, and maybe catch a couple hours of sleep before the band had to leave. She wasn’t his type at all, with her short blonde hair and deep tan, but you took what you could get with groupies. Besides, choosing a girl who was his type for these meaningless encounters was something he’d never do. Ever.

Impatient, he pinned the girl with a stern look. “Hurry it up a bit, hm?”

She giggled, a nervous, high-pitched sound, but she hurried to comply. Her laughter grated on Jay’s ears, but he nodded at her, giving her a tight-lipped smile. There was no need for him to be mean to her. After all, she was there to perform a service for him, and she was doing the best she could.

He repressed a sigh of dissatisfaction as the blouse came off; no, she really wasn’t his type at all. Much too big up top for his taste, but there was no rule that said he had to look at her. He circled behind her, and watched as her short red skirt fell to the floor next to her discarded blouse. Jay closed his eyes, and ran his hands up the outside of her thighs, thinking of nothing but the feel of skin on skin, the beast inside him roaring with the need to hurry, hurry, needing some kind of release before he was consumed. He felt the girl lean backward against him, and her voice broke through the turmoil in his head.

“You want me to undress you now?”

The honeyed cadence of her accent was like a bucket of ice water, and his eyes popped open. His hands stilled their motion, no longer feeling the touch of her skin. The beast growled with surprise, but tonight it wasn’t going to be fed. “What I want you to do,” Jay said, his voice soft but firm, “is to get dressed and leave.”

An expression of disappointment and hurt clouded the girl’s face as she turned to face him. “Did I do something wrong?”

Jay wanted to yell at her to stop talking, to shut up with that accent before he lost his mind, but he swallowed down the harsh words, knowing it wasn’t her fault. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. But you have to leave. Now,” he added, seeing her open her mouth to protest. If she spoke again, he didn’t know what he might do, but he didn’t want to find out.

In blessed silence, she got dressed a hell of a lot quicker than she’d undressed, and Jay escorted her to the door of his room. Putting his hand on her back, he all but shoved her out into the hall, and closed the door. Hands shaking, he locked it, and put it on the chain, just in case any of the other members of Shadowed Knight might decide he needed company. He leaned against the cool wood of the door, resisting the urge to smash his head against it. The unreleased nervous energy was still racing through him, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Damn the girl with her Southern accent, anyway.

When she’d spoken, his mind had immediately gone to Katie, his ears remembering the way she spoke with that same slow, soft rhythm, the vowels in her words turning to molten honey. And as he recalled the way she sounded, his brain provided the memory of her face, her hair, her body, and he knew the groupie would have to go. No matter how badly his body needed release, he wouldn’t take it with someone else while thinking of Katie. There was no way he’d disrespect her like that.

Pushing himself away from the door, he resumed his pacing. He knew Katie was aware of what he did when he was on the road. She wasn’t stupid. In fact, she was the least stupid person he’d ever known. That was why his groupies, in addition to looking nothing like Katie, were the most empty-headed girls he could find. He didn’t want them to think, or to talk, or to make him laugh. They were only there to relieve his pent-up energy, nothing more. Katie was his lady, the only woman he wanted to talk with, to laugh with, to love. Those two parts of his life had nothing to do with each other, and he refused to let the life he led on the road interfere with the real world.

Fists clenched, he came to a halt next to the bed. It was too much, what he was feeling. He expected the top of his head to fly off at any moment. He had to…had to…He had to hear Katie’s voice. Warning bells went off in the back of his mind, but he ignored them. The minute he’d thought of her voice in his ear, the beast had begun to settle, and the urge to rend and tear something had fled. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to just talk to her

He sat on the edge of the bed, and picked up the phone. The front desk picked up with quick efficiency. “Yes, please connect me with the overseas operator.” He didn’t know what time it was, but he knew it had to be very late. Consequently, it would be very early in London, but it was imperative he hear her voice.

After an interval that seemed like days, the burring of a ringing phone sounded in his ear. He lit a cigarette as he counted the rings – one, two, three, four. The fifth was cut off in mid-ring, and a sleepy voice came down the line. “H’lo?”

More of the tension in his body started to relax at the sound, and he sighed in relief. “I would give anything I own to be there with you right now.”

“I’d give anything I own to have you here.” Katie’s voice was still full of sleep, but there was definite surprise there, too. “Good grief, baby, what time is it? Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” he assured her. “We had a great show tonight. In fact, it was one of the best we’ve played. It’s just that…Well, we’re in Mobile, Alabama, and hearing the way everyone talks made me crazy to hear your voice.” Jay took a deep drag off his cigarette. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“I’m not.” The sound of rustling bedclothes came through the phone as Katie rearranged the pillows on the bed. “I’ve told you – call me anytime you want. I love hearing your voice.”

Jay smiled, and closed his eyes. “And I love hearing yours. So tell me, what have you been doing?” As she told him all the things she’d done to the house, and about the innovative new design Maureen had come up with for their candles, he felt the beast curl up into a small ball somewhere within him. No one but Katie could comfort him that way, make him feel calm in the storm that raged around him. Although he was filled with longing to see her, to feel her in his arms, at least he could hear her, and know that everything would somehow be okay. He crushed his cigarette in the ashtray. “I can’t wait to see it all. Two more weeks, and I’ll be home.”

“I know, I’m counting the days. I mean that literally, too.” The soft sound of her laughter tickled his ear. “I have a calendar, and I mark them off every night.”

Jay chuckled. “If I had a calendar, I’d do the same thing.”

“You sound tired. Are you sleeping okay?”

“No,” he admitted. “But, I think I can sleep now. I’ll dream of you.”

Katie sighed. “I’ll meet you there.”

“I’m looking forward to that. I love you, Katie.”

“I love you, too.”

Smiling, Jay hung up the phone, the peace of the release he’d been craving overriding the niggling guilt at how he’d obtained it. Without bothering to undress, he lay down, switched off the lamp, and, pulling the pillow into his arms, closed his eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We’ll not be going home on Thursday, lads.”

Grumbling met Walter’s announcement, as Shadowed Knight expressed their irritation. Each member of the band took the opportunity to berate their manager for adding yet one more show to their schedule, postponing again their return to London. Each member, that is, except Jay. He alone remained silent, but it was a deadly silence, and it was evident Walter was aware of it from the way his eyes kept darting to the corner in which Jay sat.

After doing what he could to placate the band, and quiet their complaints, nothing of which was very effective, Walter watched as Stuart, George, Nicky and Adam stomped from the room, still muttering under their breath.
Jay noted with wry amusement that Walter made a big show of straightening the bedclothes where they’d become rumpled from being sat upon, acting as if he didn’t realize Jay was still sitting there. He kept his eyes pinned to the manager’s wiry form, knowing Walter’s nervousness increased with every moment Jay remained silent. Finally, as Jay knew it would, it became too much for Walter, and he faced Jay with a huge, fake smile plastered on his face. “Jay! I didn’t see you sitting there.” His smile faltered a bit at Jay’s continued silence. “Well. I don’t think that went too badly, do you?”

“I’m not doing it.” Jay forestalled any comment Walter might have made with nothing more than a lift of his eyebrows. “I’ve told you before how I dislike your adding dates without consulting us beforehand. And I’ve told you to stop doing it. You, though, seem to have a problem with following orders, and now you’re going to have to pay for it. I’m not playing that extra date.” Having delievered his ultimatum, Jay started to rise from his chair, but Walter’s next words froze him in place.

“It’s in Birmingham, Alabama.”

An ugly suspicion began to grow in Jay’s mind as he lowered himself back onto the cheap chair. It was confirmed as Walter continued, his chin lifted with defiance.

“Katie was thrilled beyond words that you wanted her to come see you play in her hometown. I got her a flight into Atlanta, and from there into Birmingham. We’ll swing by and pick her up on the way to the motel.”

Jay barely heard the details of the flight plans through the roaring in his mind. He glared at Walter with real hatred, not trusting himself to speak.

“Look, Jay, we need this.” Walter tried to explain, oblivious to the fact that Jay wanted to kill him on the spot. “Zeppelin’s tour kicks off in fuckin’ Carnegie Hall on Friday, and we can’t afford to let any publicity before then go to waste. Any buzz we can generate can’t help but be good. Right? And when I heard it was in Birmingham, why, I thought it would be nice for Katie to able to join us.”

Somehow, Jay made the proper synapses fire in his brain so that he was able to gain his feet. How he wanted to fire Walter on the spot! But he couldn’t, not without the approval of the others. And they’d not do it, they wouldn’t understand Jay’s anger at what had just happened. “You thought no such thing,” he snarled. “You just knew I’d have to stay if you dragged Katie into it, you little bastard.” He pointed a shaking finger at his manager. “Stay the fuck away from me.” He left the room, venting his anger on the door he slammed so hard the windows rattled in their aluminum frames.

The narrow concrete balcony that stretched outside their motel rooms was deserted, a fact for which Jay was unspeakably thankful. He stalked past the closed doors until he was a good distance from Walter’s room, and stopped, resting his hands on the rusted iron railing, gripping the cool metal with such force his fingers should have left imprints. When he’d awakened that morning, and recalled what he’d done the night before, he had been filled with self-loathing. He’d used Katie, used her the way he used those nameless, faceless groupies, to quiet the beast so he could fucking sleep. He’d used her for his own ends, and, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror that morning, he’d vowed he would never, never do it again. And now Walter was dragging Katie into the beast’s lair.

Concentrating on taking deep, calming breaths, Jay stared out across the littered parking lot, the parts of Tallahassee he could see appearing dirty and uninviting. During the short drive there, he’d resolved to forget what had happened the night before, and lose himself in the remaining show they had to play, leaving everything on the road. But now…Sorry as he was about it, he knew the people in Tallahassee would be getting a bum show. There was no way he could afford to feed off the energy of the crowd the way he always did, letting the beast soak it up, gaining power, not while he thought of Katie on her way to the States. Perhaps he would mention to Adam he wasn’t feeling well. If his poor performance became too noticable, Adam could use it to make excuse during the banter he riffed between songs.

Releasing the railing, he straightened, and put his hands in his pockets. Damn it, any other time he’d have been stoked at seeing Katie. But now he’d have to be on his guard with her. It had taken a great leap of faith on Katie’s part to admit that she loved him; he knew that. And he couldn’t afford to let her see the man he became on the road. Not yet. One day he knew he’d have to if he was to retain what little sanity he had left. But not now. He himself didn’t like this Jay Carey, and he wasn’t going to risk Katie not liking him, either. The intensity of his feelings for Katie frightened him a little – not loving her, but what might happen to him if he ever lost her.

Extreme measures would have to be taken to leash the beast, but he could do it for two shows. Then it could crawl back into whatever dark recess of his soul in which it resided, to hibernate until the next tour. Katie wouldn’t have to see it. Not until Jay was sure she could handle it. And until he was sure he could.

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[> [> I like, very much! -- Debi, 08:30:36 08/24/09 Mon

I think you've captured the frustration and dual nature very nicely here. The pent-up energy is very palpable here, especially the way he was practically stalking Walter after the announcement of the extra date.

Poor Katie really has no clue, does she? I mean, she knows *what* he does, but not how intense it is for him, how afraid he is. Because it almost seems like fear to me, on his part, like he's being cornered. After all, a frightened animal will bite as quickly if not quicker, than an angry one.

Or I could reading a lot more into this than is really there...;-)

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[> [> [> I'm glad you brought that up >>>>> --

Page, 16:00:39 08/27/09 Thu

I'm so glad you mentioned fear, because Jay's consumed with it. Like Esther said, it's not really a beast making Jay act this way -- it's part of who he is, and he's afraid to admit it. So he blames it all on a beast. That way, he can say "the beast did it," instead of taking responsibility for his actions. His fear is that he's really like that, and he doesn't want to be.

Katie understands a little better than you might think, though. She has her own beast to deal with, but she knows it's not some outside force, but a part of her nature, and since she admits it, she's able to control it. Jay won't admit it, and so allows it to consume him. If she can get Jay to give up the notion of some "beast" making him behave in ways he doesn't like to think about, will it give him the strength to control it, as she does hers, or will it give him more power to, let's say, run amok? Time will tell! *G*

Thanks tons!!
Page

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[> [> Okay, I've been thinking... >>> -- Esther, 12:51:09 08/26/09 Wed

Okay, first off I have to say that the first scene you posted with this, I didn't even pay attention to the beast aspect. I picked up on the first one, where it was being compared to energy, and with that I could feel it. My point is, I didn’t think of this scene as a beast scene or that a beast was lurking behind the façade that was Jay Carey, rock star. So, I read this, now paying attention to the beast, and just cause I'm always on the look out for repeated words, I noticed that you had used the word beast four times in the last four paragraphs. That made me look closer. And because I looked closer I've lost the feeling I first had. I'm going to attempt to explain it so please be patient with me as I'm thinking out loud here. *G*

As I said, when I first read it, the beast was the energy he fed off. The power performing gave him, the rush he received, the thrill, the lust to continue and feed and feed until everyone around him was drained. It left him stoked, on the prowl for more. The energy he got from the crowd was something that allowed him to give more, to want more, to aggressively pursue whatever he wanted to do and know he would succeed. It taunted him to new heights, to do something more daring, more…more everything. Awesome! Heck, I’d be one the girls in the audience screaming at him if I could climb into the pages of your book. What I imagined was as attractive and as sexy as any man can be. Especially when he was sweaty with the effort. *G*

So, now that I get this feel that energy is just a beast that lives in him, my take is different. Esp. since Jay doesn’t seem to like it. It has taken something awe-inspiring, to something almost wrong. Okay, I get the nature of the beast is bad, and Jay doesn't like that part of himself, but...as a reader if I'm to identify with Jay and understand and accept his two sides, I don't want to think the same as Jay and hate the beast. I mean Jay wouldn’t be who he is without it. And I like Jay just the way he is. I don't know if that's what you want or not, but the main thing is, when I read this one, the beast doesn't have that same driving force Jay had in the first one. I don't get the same feeling of the energy, but rather that something else is controlling him. Categorizing the beast, as something tangible, it becomes so. He seems limited now, when I think he could be so much more. Emotions aren’t solid. And they aren’t predictable. They can’t be confined to one specific sensation or term. And I believe that what he experiences when he performs is the same. As a reader, I want to experience it with him and not be told the beast claimed him, or in other words, to have the beast used as an excuse for how he acts. He _is_ the beast. Does that make any sense?

Thinking on this, I copied your scene into word and did the ol find thing and discovered that the beast had been referred to ten times. And then I did the mental replacing of every one of those with the word energy, and discovered they would all fit, some obviously better than others, but you see what I mean right. The next thing I asked myself then was this. What kind of energy? For me it is like lust. The need for more, More, MORE! Not later. Now. I could be wrong, but that’s my take.

Now, knowing as I do, that Jay’s behaviour grows as his fame grows, his notoriety feeds off the energy he doesn’t like and he’s acting out in ways he might not have done otherwise. The fact for me is this, his actions do become more and more bold, more and more aggressive, until he is this dom, the one in control, the one who will be satisfied despite who or what stands in his way. The more he has, the more he experiences, the more he needs, the more it takes him to reach that level of awareness if you will. It’s a progression. Until, like an addict needing a fix, he’ll never be sated, he’ll never find peace. And in my mind, these things are not so much a beast, but sensations he craves but thinks of as wrong. It’s like he’s lost control of himself in the process.

And thinking of his motivation, the driving force that makes him want to succeed, despite it turning him into someone he doesn’t like, or making him feel the threat and potentially costing him the woman he loves, I remember how his parents didn’t approve of his music, and if I think really hard and hope I’m not making this up because I want to, how they, his dad in particular, told him he wouldn’t amount to anything, well…how would that affect him and ‘the beast’ within?

The beast, if you will, is the one who is hiding the things it feels, the sensation it craves, the emotion it has. And I for one, want to know more. I think, and am going to suggest, that you delve a little deeper and give the nature of the beast a chance to have his say. Technically speaking, the beast could, and does, reside in all of us. It’s what makes us tick. And I don’t know about you, but I want to understand the nature of this beast just a little bit better.

I have no idea if this is what you wanted or not, but there’s my take. Use what you will. Toss the rest. *G*

Hugs

Esther

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[> [> [> I like your take on this >>>>> --

Page, 15:54:17 08/27/09 Thu

This made a lot of sense to me, and I agree with you. I realize now that the beast is how Jay sees it, because he doesn't want to admit that he can be that way. It's like Debi said -- it's fear, and that fear causes him to blame all those personality traits on something else, in this case, "the beast." It's a lot easier to think that something inside him he can't control is doing all those things, instead of admitting that it's part of his nature. And by not accepting that, he allows "the beast" to do more and more, without having to take any responsibility for his actions. He allows it grow bigger and more dominant, needing more and more to sate it as you said, and that increases his fear that "it" will take over, and ultimately destroy him.

I like what you said about his motivations, and his father. Jay can't help but love the success and the attention he's getting, because it's a slap in his father's face. At the same time, some of that attention is coming due to things he's done that he'd rather not think about.

Now, you know and I know that he underestimates Katie. She's a smart cookie, and will be able to understand that it's all a part of Jay's makeup, who he is. She's not going buy into his beast. In fact, she understands all too well, because that energy he feeds off affects her in much the same ways. Just seeing him strap on a Stratocaster before taking the stage makes her want to rip off her clothes and jump him, guitar and all. Little Miss Not-Into-Public-Displays-Of-Affection gets consumed my Katie's own "beast."

Now I'm wondering how Katie's acceptance of this part of Jay's personality is going to affect him. Will it give him what he needs to reign it in, or, as I suspect, give him what he wants/needs to push every boundary that comes his way?

As soon as I'm through with their Birmingham sojourn (Jay gets Katie to take him to Rosedale, Mississippi, by the way, so he can stand at the crossroads. Heh heh), I'm going to go back and do some work on this. By exploring Jay's "beast," and his growing sense of being autocratic, it'll tie nicely into what happens to them later on.

Hugs,
Page

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[> [> Re: The Beast, Redux >>>>>> -- Lady Morilka, 12:02:57 09/04/09 Fri

I like this version much better. It flowes more. And the added scene the next morning is great. Great imagees, and the calm fury of Jay is coming over really threatening. Great!

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>Excerpt from <i>Carey On</i> (working title) >©2009 by Juli Morgan >Posted for purposes of critique only, and does not >constitute publication > >Jay Carey paced around the room, his eyes on the girl >as she followed his orders to disrobe. His body >thrummed with the energy that had built up onstage >earlier that evening, an energy that made him feel >like he was connected to a high voltage electric wire, >racing through him unchecked; a beast intent on >devouring him unless he could satiate it. You’d think >he would use it all up during the concert, but no. It >just built higher and higher, increasing with every >note he played, until he left the stage, dripping with >sweat and stumbling with exhaustion, but still so >keyed up he thought he might explode. Drugs didn’t >help; he’d tried them all, and they did nothing but >disorient him. Sex didn’t help, not really, but at >least that release would quiet the beast enough so he >could get some rest. > >The girl was trying to be sexy as she slowly >unbuttoned her blouse, but he wasn’t interested in >sexy. He just wanted to get laid, and maybe catch a >couple hours of sleep before the band had to leave. >She wasn’t his type at all, with her short blonde hair >and deep tan, but you took what you could get with >groupies. Besides, choosing a girl who was his type >for these meaningless encounters was something he’d >never do. Ever. > >Impatient, he pinned the girl with a stern look. >“Hurry it up a bit, hm?” > >She giggled, a nervous, high-pitched sound, but she >hurried to comply. Her laughter grated on Jay’s ears, >but he nodded at her, giving her a tight-lipped smile. > There was no need for him to be mean to her. After >all, she was there to perform a service for him, and >she was doing the best she could. > >He repressed a sigh of dissatisfaction as the blouse >came off; no, she really wasn’t his type at all. Much >too big up top for his taste, but there was no rule >that said he had to look at her. He circled behind >her, and watched as her short red skirt fell to the >floor next to her discarded blouse. Jay closed his >eyes, and ran his hands up the outside of her thighs, >thinking of nothing but the feel of skin on skin, the >beast inside him roaring with the need to hurry, >hurry, needing some kind of release before he was >consumed. He felt the girl lean backward against him, >and her voice broke through the turmoil in his head. > >“You want me to undress you now?” > >The honeyed cadence of her accent was like a bucket of >ice water, and his eyes popped open. His hands >stilled their motion, no longer feeling the touch of >her skin. The beast growled with surprise, but >tonight it wasn’t going to be fed. “What I want you >to do,” Jay said, his voice soft but firm, “is to get >dressed and leave.” > >An expression of disappointment and hurt clouded the >girl’s face as she turned to face him. “Did I do >something wrong?” > >Jay wanted to yell at her to stop talking, to shut up >with that accent before he lost his mind, but he >swallowed down the harsh words, knowing it wasn’t her >fault. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. But you >have to leave. Now,” he added, seeing her open her >mouth to protest. If she spoke again, he didn’t know >what he might do, but he didn’t want to find out. > >In blessed silence, she got dressed a hell of a lot >quicker than she’d undressed, and Jay escorted her to >the door of his room. Putting his hand on her back, >he all but shoved her out into the hall, and closed >the door. Hands shaking, he locked it, and put it on >the chain, just in case any of the other members of >Shadowed Knight might decide he needed company. He >leaned against the cool wood of the door, resisting >the urge to smash his head against it. The unreleased >nervous energy was still racing through him, but there >was nothing he could do about it now. Damn the girl >with her Southern accent, anyway. > >When she’d spoken, his mind had immediately gone to >Katie, his ears remembering the way she spoke with >that same slow, soft rhythm, the vowels in her words >turning to molten honey. And as he recalled the way >she sounded, his brain provided the memory of her >face, her hair, her body, and he knew the groupie >would have to go. No matter how badly his body needed >release, he wouldn’t take it with someone else while >thinking of Katie. There was no way he’d disrespect >her like that. > >Pushing himself away from the door, he resumed his >pacing. He knew Katie was aware of what he did when >he was on the road. She wasn’t stupid. In fact, she >was the least stupid person he’d ever known. That was >why his groupies, in addition to looking nothing like >Katie, were the most empty-headed girls he could find. > He didn’t want them to think, or to talk, or to make >him laugh. They were only there to relieve his >pent-up energy, nothing more. Katie was his lady, the >only woman he wanted to talk with, to laugh with, to >love. Those two parts of his life had nothing to do >with each other, and he refused to let the life he led >on the road interfere with the real world. > >Fists clenched, he came to a halt next to the bed. It >was too much, what he was feeling. He expected the >top of his head to fly off at any moment. He had >to…had to…He had to hear Katie’s voice. Warning bells >went off in the back of his mind, but he ignored them. > The minute he’d thought of her voice in his ear, the >beast had begun to settle, and the urge to rend and >tear something had fled. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to >just talk to her > >He sat on the edge of the bed, and picked up the >phone. The front desk picked up with quick >efficiency. “Yes, please connect me with the overseas >operator.” He didn’t know what time it was, but he >knew it had to be very late. Consequently, it would >be very early in London, but it was imperative he hear >her voice. > >After an interval that seemed like days, the burring >of a ringing phone sounded in his ear. He lit a >cigarette as he counted the rings – one, two, three, >four. The fifth was cut off in mid-ring, and a sleepy >voice came down the line. “H’lo?” > >More of the tension in his body started to relax at >the sound, and he sighed in relief. “I would give >anything I own to be there with you right now.” > >“I’d give anything I own to have you here.” Katie’s >voice was still full of sleep, but there was definite >surprise there, too. “Good grief, baby, what time is >it? Is everything alright?” > >“Everything’s fine,” he assured her. “We had a great >show tonight. In fact, it was one of the best we’ve >played. It’s just that…Well, we’re in Mobile, >Alabama, and hearing the way everyone talks made me >crazy to hear your voice.” Jay took a deep drag off >his cigarette. “I’m sorry I woke you.” > >“I’m not.” The sound of rustling bedclothes came >through the phone as Katie rearranged the pillows on >the bed. “I’ve told you – call me anytime you want. >I love hearing your voice.” > >Jay smiled, and closed his eyes. “And I love hearing >yours. So tell me, what have you been doing?” As she >told him all the things she’d done to the house, and >about the innovative new design Maureen had come up >with for their candles, he felt the beast curl up into >a small ball somewhere within him. No one but Katie >could comfort him that way, make him feel calm in the >storm that raged around him. Although he was filled >with longing to see her, to feel her in his arms, at >least he could hear her, and know that everything >would somehow be okay. He crushed his cigarette in >the ashtray. “I can’t wait to see it all. Two more >weeks, and I’ll be home.” > >“I know, I’m counting the days. I mean that >literally, too.” The soft sound of her laughter >tickled his ear. “I have a calendar, and I mark them >off every night.” > >Jay chuckled. “If I had a calendar, I’d do the same >thing.” > >“You sound tired. Are you sleeping okay?” > >“No,” he admitted. “But, I think I can sleep now. >I’ll dream of you.” > >Katie sighed. “I’ll meet you there.” > >“I’m looking forward to that. I love you, Katie.” > >“I love you, too.” > >Smiling, Jay hung up the phone, the peace of the >release he’d been craving overriding the niggling >guilt at how he’d obtained it. Without bothering to >undress, he lay down, switched off the lamp, and, >pulling the pillow into his arms, closed his eyes. > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ > >“We’ll not be going home on Thursday, lads.” > >Grumbling met Walter’s announcement, as Shadowed >Knight expressed their irritation. Each member of the >band took the opportunity to berate their manager for >adding yet one more show to their schedule, postponing >again their return to London. Each member, that is, >except Jay. He alone remained silent, but it was a >deadly silence, and it was evident Walter was aware of >it from the way his eyes kept darting to the corner in >which Jay sat. > >After doing what he could to placate the band, and >quiet their complaints, nothing of which was very >effective, Walter watched as Stuart, George, Nicky and >Adam stomped from the room, still muttering under >their breath. >Jay noted with wry amusement that Walter made a big >show of straightening the bedclothes where they’d >become rumpled from being sat upon, acting as if he >didn’t realize Jay was still sitting there. He kept >his eyes pinned to the manager’s wiry form, knowing >Walter’s nervousness increased with every moment Jay >remained silent. Finally, as Jay knew it would, it >became too much for Walter, and he faced Jay with a >huge, fake smile plastered on his face. “Jay! I >didn’t see you sitting there.” His smile faltered a >bit at Jay’s continued silence. “Well. I don’t think >that went too badly, do you?” > >“I’m not doing it.” Jay forestalled any comment >Walter might have made with nothing more than a lift >of his eyebrows. “I’ve told you before how I dislike >your adding dates without consulting us beforehand. >And I’ve told you to stop doing it. You, though, seem >to have a problem with following orders, and now >you’re going to have to pay for it. I’m not playing >that extra date.” Having delievered his ultimatum, >Jay started to rise from his chair, but Walter’s next >words froze him in place. > >“It’s in Birmingham, Alabama.” > >An ugly suspicion began to grow in Jay’s mind as he >lowered himself back onto the cheap chair. It was >confirmed as Walter continued, his chin lifted with >defiance. > >“Katie was thrilled beyond words that you wanted her >to come see you play in her hometown. I got her a >flight into Atlanta, and from there into Birmingham. >We’ll swing by and pick her up on the way to the >motel.” > >Jay barely heard the details of the flight plans >through the roaring in his mind. He glared at Walter >with real hatred, not trusting himself to speak. > >“Look, Jay, we need this.” Walter tried to explain, >oblivious to the fact that Jay wanted to kill him on >the spot. “Zeppelin’s tour kicks off in fuckin’ >Carnegie Hall on Friday, and we can’t afford to let >any publicity before then go to waste. Any buzz we >can generate can’t help but be good. Right? And when >I heard it was in Birmingham, why, I thought it would >be nice for Katie to able to join us.” > >Somehow, Jay made the proper synapses fire in his >brain so that he was able to gain his feet. How he >wanted to fire Walter on the spot! But he couldn’t, >not without the approval of the others. And they’d >not do it, they wouldn’t understand Jay’s anger at >what had just happened. “You thought no such thing,” >he snarled. “You just knew I’d have to stay if you >dragged Katie into it, you little bastard.” He >pointed a shaking finger at his manager. “Stay the >fuck away from me.” He left the room, venting his >anger on the door he slammed so hard the windows >rattled in their aluminum frames. > >The narrow concrete balcony that stretched outside >their motel rooms was deserted, a fact for which Jay >was unspeakably thankful. He stalked past the closed >doors until he was a good distance from Walter’s room, >and stopped, resting his hands on the rusted iron >railing, gripping the cool metal with such force his >fingers should have left imprints. When he’d awakened >that morning, and recalled what he’d done the night >before, he had been filled with self-loathing. He’d ><i>used</i> Katie, used her the way he used those >nameless, faceless groupies, to quiet the beast so he >could fucking sleep. He’d used her for his own ends, >and, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror that >morning, he’d vowed he would never, never do it again. > And now Walter was dragging Katie into the beast’s >lair. > >Concentrating on taking deep, calming breaths, Jay >stared out across the littered parking lot, the parts >of Tallahassee he could see appearing dirty and >uninviting. During the short drive there, he’d >resolved to forget what had happened the night before, >and lose himself in the remaining show they had to >play, leaving everything on the road. But now…Sorry >as he was about it, he knew the people in Tallahassee >would be getting a bum show. There was no way he >could afford to feed off the energy of the crowd the >way he always did, letting the beast soak it up, >gaining power, not while he thought of Katie on her >way to the States. Perhaps he would mention to Adam >he wasn’t feeling well. If his poor performance >became too noticable, Adam could use it to make excuse >during the banter he riffed between songs. > >Releasing the railing, he straightened, and put his >hands in his pockets. Damn it, any other time he’d >have been stoked at seeing Katie. But now he’d have >to be on his guard with her. It had taken a great >leap of faith on Katie’s part to admit that she loved >him; he knew that. And he couldn’t afford to let her >see the man he became on the road. Not yet. One day >he knew he’d have to if he was to retain what little >sanity he had left. But not now. He himself didn’t >like this Jay Carey, and he wasn’t going to risk Katie >not liking him, either. The intensity of his feelings >for Katie frightened him a little – not loving her, >but what might happen to him if he ever lost her. > >Extreme measures would have to be taken to leash the >beast, but he could do it for two shows. Then it >could crawl back into whatever dark recess of his soul >in which it resided, to hibernate until the next tour. > Katie wouldn’t have to see it. Not until Jay was >sure she could handle it. And until he was sure he >could.
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