Flesh and Blood (Sequel to Poison'd Crüe)

Twenty

The next three months seemed to pass by at Lightning speed, yet drag on at a snail’s pace all at once. By this point, Bobby was four months pregnant since it was the week after his birthday, and Sirena swore he’d likely conceived on either July seventh or the early hours of July eighth after that Irvine show his mate brought the boysta. He was feeling better in that his Morn sickness was finally starting to slack off without having to drink a two-liter of Ginger ale a Day, but he was still every bit as exhausted.

        Being pregnant drained his Energy rather quickly as his body put that Energy toward caring for his unborn kit. It wasn’t uncommon for him to need a nap only four or five hours after getting up, despite sleeping fairly well the Night previous, especially when they’d a show. Without that nap, he was pretty much dead on his feet and only able to perform through muscle memory, basically just running on autopilot.

        However, the tension that’d been growing for months was only getting worse as Time passed. Being an Empath, the younger bassist could sense something off with Richie, but the younger brunette just wouldn’t talk. Like the rest of the guys, he was honestly Beginning to wonder, if he was gay since he never took advantage of the groupies like Bret and Rockett did. They playfully teased him about it, but said they didn’t care since that’d be wrong of them with their bassist essentially being gay and them not caring about that. Still, he wouldn’t give any hints as to what was bothering him so badly, and he decided that it wasn’t worth pushing since that’d do nothing but cause trouble.

        One Night when they’d the Night off so they could kick back and relax, though, all that tension finally came to a head. Bobby was so exhausted that he’d decided to call it an early Night, so he’d already crawled into his bunk and fallen asleep by the Time the young guitarist left for whatever reason. The next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake, which he wasn’t very happy about since he didn’t like being woken while sleeping good. When he looked up, though, he could see the distraught look on Richie’s face, even through blurry eyes, and knew something’d happened after he fell asleep.

        “Shit’s about to hit the fan, man,” the younger brunette said, running his fingers through his hair.

        “What’re ya talking about?” he asked, yawning as he sat up. He almost sounded drunk since he’d literally just woken up.

        “I mean that I finally told Rikki,” he answered, not really making any sense.

        “Told Rikki what?” Bobby asked.

        “About me and Deanna,” Richie told him. “Remember how I said I needed to talk to him before ya came back here to get some sleep?”

        “Yeah, I remember that,” the younger bassist answered. “I might be exhausted and a bit forgetful these Days, but I ain’t stupid.”

        “Deanna and I’ve been seeing each other for months,” the younger brunette told him. “They were already split up, and I tried to fend her off at first. She kept pushing and making advances, so I told her that if she was serious, she needed to prove it by moving outta Rikki’s place.”

        “So, that’s why she moved out so suddenly,” he mused.

        Richie nodded as he told him that the drummer’s ex-fiancé’d moved out to prove she was serious about dating him, not Rockett. Since he’d been under the impression they were already split up, he knew the blonde still prolly wouldn’t like him dating her, but doubted he could possibly have too much of a problem with it. It was only when he swore they were still together, but taking a break, that he really started to worry, ’cuz each party was telling him something different.

        The young guitarist continued by telling him that he’d fallen too hard for her to just break things off, ’cuz he couldn’t figure out who was being truthful, and who was lying to him. Bobby could understand his confusion and how that’d make him feel torn, but what he didn’t agree with was that he’d Hidden this from Rockett for so long now.

        Being with Nikki’d taught him many things, and one of them was that while the Truth could sometimes hurt, it never hurt as much as a lie. The wavy-haired brunette told him that yeah, the drummer woulda been hurt by his actions, if he’d confessed sooner–but having Hidden it from him, he’d only made things worse. He honestly couldn’t say how the blonde half of their band was gonna react aside from telling him he already knew it wasn’t gonna be pretty. That drew a heavy sigh from Richie, who said he wouldn’t be surprised, if it got him fired and replaced quicker than CC’s coke addiction’d resulted in that for the former lead guitarist a couple Years ago.

        He wasn’t about to say that’d suit him just fine, though, ’cuz the younger bassist’d never quite liked the wild child’s replacement. Their styles’d always been a lil too different, and while he liked Poison having a bit more mature a Sound, this was just too drastic a Change. He didn’t wanna hurt his feelings by telling him that when he’d enough on his mind already, so Bobby just kept his mouth shut. Still, he wasn’t surprised when he heard the door open up front, although he was expecting to see Rockett barge into the bunk room, not an irate Bret ready to go on the Warpath.

        “Get your shit together, Richie,” the vocalist snapped. “None of us can work with a liar.”

        The younger bassist just kept his mouth shut, even though he could see that Richie wanted to argue that they hadn’t even gotten his take on the matter yet.

        “What about the rest of the tour, though?” the younger brunette asked.

        “We’ll figure it out,” he said. “Better to get rid of extra baggage that’s just gonna hold us back instead of dragging it behind us.”

        “Y’all ain’t even got Bobby’s take on what happened,” Richie protested.

        “Don’t need to–we know him well enough to know how he thinks,” Bret informed him.

        The young guitarist just turned to look at him, jaw agape.

        “He’s right, sadly,” Bobby said, shrugging. “I toldja that–hadja confessed earlier–Rikki’d still be hurt, but he wouldn’t be hurt as bad. It’s the fact thatcha hid something so significant from not just him, but all of us, for so long that I can’t put up with.”

        “Ya shouldn’t have done it at all,” the blonde growled. “But if ya were gonna do something like this, it woulda been niceta know a lot sooner.”

        “The fact that our styles clash a lil too much doesn’t sit well with me, either,” the younger bassist finally admitted. “We’re not really into your style of playing any more than you’re into ours–I just didn’t wanna make the tension I could already feel worse over something stupid.”

        Knowing there was no way he could defend himself at this point, Richie rose from where he’d sat in the floor next to his bunk. If even the wavy-haired brunette wasn’t gonna help him out, there was no sense in even trying to fight for his position in the band, even till this tour was over. If they did let him stay, they’d just make Life a living Múspellsheimr for him till the tour Ended and they all went back home, when he’d no doubt be fired and replaced by someone else, anyway.

        As he was packing his bags, the wavy-haired brunette rolled over to face away from the aisle, although he doubted he’d get back to sleep for a while. He didn’t wanna even look at this young man, ’cuz now knowing what he’d done to one of his best friends made him feel kinda sick. Not exactly nauseous like he’d been the past few months, per sé, but still like he wouldn’t be able to eat anything, if he tried.

        The next thing any of them knew, Bret and a teary-eyed Rockett were chucking the young guitarist’s bags over the fence next to where their buses were parked like they were pillows. By that point, Bobby’d gotten up and dragged on just enough clothing to avoid a public indecency charge, standing there with his arms crossed as he watched them. With the younger brunette effectively kicked off the tour, the trio piled onto the younger bassist’s bus so Bret could start hunting down a replacement while he was Comforting Rockett. If they couldn’t find a replacement on such short notice, they’d be forced to cancel the rest of the tour, but that didn’t matter–his friend was there for him when he needed him, and now, it was Time to Return the favor.

        Luckily, the vocalist and their manager managed to talk a young man by the name of Blues Saraceno into joining them to cover Richie for the rest of the tour. They weren’t sure what’d happen once the tour Ended and they went back home, but one thing was for certain, even now. Richie Kozten’s Days as a Poison member were over, and they’d need to replace him so they could keep the band going. Otherwise, they’d just End up fading into a happy memory for devoted fans the World over, especially as the noise everyone called grunge exploded outta the Pacific Northwest and really took hold.