Ever wondered what was happening in Slash's life in 2009, while he was busy working on his first solo album, and his marriage was facing some challenges?
Los Angeles, March 2009. Mia flourishes at Paramount Pictures while captivating crowds as the f...
The lingering high from the brownies mingled with the change of surroundings, leading them to a post-show bourbon pilgrimage: Thirsty Crow, it is. The chosen destination.
The establishment wasn't overly crowded, but every table was occupied, forcing them to settle on the bar stools. Conversations buzzed around the room, with much of the discussion revolving around the pink-haired girl's obvious intentions towards Kyle that night. Mia grasped her scotch and approached Billy, wrapping her arms around him from behind.
"I thought you'd bring Lucy along tonight. I really wanted her to see us on action." she spoke into his ear, her speech still carrying a slight slur.
A mischievous grin crept across Billy's face. "What do you know...Maybe she HAS already caught a glimpse of you on stage?"
"Whatt?" Mia asked before she took a seat beside Billy.
"I called her earlier today to discuss the possibility of you two meeting. She seemed quite occupied, as expected. But when I mentioned your performance tonight, she mentioned that both your name and the band's name sounded familiar. I suggested that she might have seen it on my Facebook feed. But she responded, 'No, did I see them at the Troubadour last week? The blonde girl with long legs?' I said, 'Bingo!' It certainly sounds like her!"
Mia's eyes widened as she listened intently.
"This week, I'm sure I'll arrange a meeting between the two of you." he said, taking a sip of his scotch. "Time is ticking, right?"
Overwhelmed with gratitude, Mia planted a warm kiss on Billy's cheek. "How can I ever thank you, Bills! This is just so fucking incredible!"
Billy smiled, placing his index finger against his lips. "Just keep it under wraps for now, okay?" he murmured. "That space brownie makes you an instant chatterbox."
"What, you mean I can't spill the beans to the guys?" she quipped, her words languid but her enthusiasm undeniably present as she playfully attempted to whisper her question.
"Well, not just yet. Share the news after you meet her and see how it goes. No need to alarm anyone right now."
Their glasses clinked, but a portion of Mia's enthusiasm had already diminished. She despised the secrecy and the need for elaborate strategies. All she wanted was honesty and openness among her bandmates. Why couldn't it be that simple?
And how in the world was she going to contact Slash to confirm whether she would accept his offer, assuming she even would... Where the fuck did his phone number go?
After sharing a ride home with Pam, Mia entered her apartment feeling a sense of restlessness. A long, soothing shower helped to alleviate some tension, and she felt a spark of inspiration, prompting her to pick up her guitar. Melodies flowed from her fingertips, providing solace for her weary soul. That night, she focused on an A-minor melody infused with a bluesy vibe that was tantalizingly close, yet she couldn't quite capture the essence she envisioned in her mind. She had been working on this riff for nearly two weeks, but the elusive drop of inspiration to perfect it had yet to arrive.
Lying in bed, Mia reached for her phone, intending to send a text to Pam, reminding her about their weekly Sunday gathering at Westfield. They had arranged to meet with their mutual friend Alexi, who was an academic at UCLA. Mia hadn't seen Alexi in months, so she was excited to finally be able to catch up.
***
22nd March, 2009 Sunday.
Good morning to a lazy Sunday: The band would have 3 days of practice that week before they drove off to Vegas, so they all decided to have some rest on Sunday and lay it low.
Living in the Valley had it's pro's and con's for sure. Undoubtedly, the heat surpassed that of the central and southern areas—quite scorching, to be honest. The weekday rush hour was another notorious challenge, especially for those working below Ventura. Thankfully, Mia's office for half of the week was conveniently close to Van Nuys Airport, allowing her a mere 15-minute commute to work and a similarly quick return home. Thursdays were dedicated to studio practices for the band, and since Mia worked from the Melrose headquarters on that day, everything seamlessly fell into place. The preferred studios were nearby, and by the time she wrapped up and headed home, the traffic had subsided, easing her journey.
Nevertheless, the Valley had its fair share of advantages. Sherman Oaks boasted a plethora of quality restaurants and bars, along with proximity to recreational areas, hospitals, and more. Arguably, it was one of the best locations in the Valley, second only to Burbank, when it came to being close to the heart of the city. During off-peak hours, Mia could swiftly reach any significant destination in the life of a 30-year-old Angeleno.
Sipping her morning coffee, Mia glanced through Twitter for any noteworthy updates. The news of Liam Neeson's wife's funeral, President Obama's plans for Afghanistan, and a catchy song called "Poker Face" by a girl named Lady Gaga seemed to dominate her feed. Nothing overly captivating. With a sense of readiness, she got herself prepared, grabbed her bag, and made her way out of the apartment, heading towards the mall.
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Parking her car in the underground lot, Mia retrieved her phone, intending to call Pam. However, her call went unanswered., so she decided to try Alexi instead. Scrolling through her contacts, she searched for Alexi's number, only to be met with an unexpected surprise.
There it was.
The contact name she was staring at was iiii]; )'
That was how that cheeky bastard saved his number in Mia's phone—a winking face wearing a top hat and puffing on a cigarette. The guy had his own emoticon.
"Well, well, look who's been hiding in my phone all this fucking time," Mia mumbled to herself, stepping out of her car with a mixture of relief and amusement.
