Two old friends find themselves attracted to one another, and decide to start a relationship despite the potential problems that could easily cause them.
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The two guitarists treasured the few days they had together before they had to finish up Iron Maiden's tour with three weeks in Norway and Sweden. Dave and Ade reached the rehearsal studio first, then the roadies arrived, and finally Rod pulled up with Steve, Clive, and Paul in the car. Since they were renting a bus for the Scandinavian portion of the tour, they squeezed all the equipment and themselves into just two vans for the drive to Heathrow, to save on the parking cost.
To everyone's relief, the Scandinavian tour went off with no major problems. Rod had one of the crew members follow Paul every time he left the rest of the group; the surveillance might not have stopped his drug use, but it did allow the manager to intervene and stop the singer from getting so wasted that he couldn't perform. It did have the unpleasant result of making the volatile man's temper even shorter than usual, leading to him taking it out in sniping at his bandmates in general and Dave in particular. But since Dave knew Paul would be sacked upon completion of the tour, he simply ignored the taunts and insults and quietly encouraged Ade and Clive to do the same.
The inevitable explosion happened upon their return to Shoreditch. Clive, Ade, and Dave worked with the crew to get the vans unloaded, while Steve and Rod brought Paul into the little room that Rod used as his office. Inside of five minutes, they heard shouting from the office, although the soundproofing in the walls of the rehearsal studio kept them from making out what was being said. After another five minutes, Paul came storming through the studio, fists clenched, eyes burning, and face purple with fury.
"I fucking hope you lot enjoy working under fucking Hitler and Mussolini," the raging singer spat at them. "Bloody fucking dictators, can't let a bloke have some fun when he ain't hurting anyone. Bloody fucking cunts! I'm glad I'm out of this shite and if you three are smart, you'll leave too!" Paul spat on the floor and wrenched the door open. "Good fucking riddance!" he yelled in the direction of the office before slamming the door behind himself.
Steve and Rod emerged from the office, looking tired. "Well, that's that," Rod said.
"Yeah, I s'pose it could've gone worse," Steve acknowledged. He took a deep breath and headed out to grab more equipment from the van. "At least it's done," he said quietly as he brought in a pair of amps. "Once everything's inside, see Rod for your pay and then go relax. Rehearsals with Bruce start up on Monday, so we've got four days to recuperate from the tour before we have to start working on new material for the next album."
"I'll give you and Clive a lift back to Maryland Point," Rod said. "Seeing as I'm the one insisted on picking you up ahead of this final leg of the tour in order to make sure Paul didn't disappear on us."
"Thanks, Rod," Steve said.
Within another half hour, they got all the gear stowed inside. Rod paid the crew, then the band members before climbing into his car with Steve and Clive and their luggage.
