viii. EIGHT

664 16 9
                                    




︵‿︵‿୨ 1972 ୧‿︵‿︵

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︵‿︵‿୨ 1972 ୧‿︵‿︵


"SADIE FUCKING SCOTT," the voice felt like a hammer straight to the temple. Instinctively, the blonde musician shrank backwards into her hooded jacket, hoping somehow that it would swallow her entirely. Her moment of hope was short-lived, however, as a tanned hand slapped down a glossy magazine on the countertop in front of her. "You've got one minute to explain to me what the hell this is."

Sadie pushed down the front of her sunglasses and squinted at the cover of the 'Cosmopolitan' magazine, trying to make her fuzzy brain hone in on the words printed there. "Looks like the Beatles are back at eachothers throats..." she commentated, half her mind occupied by the cover and the other half on figuring out how Caterina had gotten into her apartment without a key — did I leave the front door open?

"Do you think I'm thick?" Caterina hissed through clenched teeth, distracting her again. "I meant this!" A perfect, ruby-red nail scratched a mark into another heading: Sadie Scott's Boozy Sunday Caught on Film. The pit that was already present in the singer's stomach dropped through the floor, and she felt like she was going to be sick again. That is, if she'd had anything left in her stomach that she hadn't already thrown up that morning. "Jesus Christ, Sadie, what the hell were you thinking flouncing around drunk in public with Jimmy Page?"

Sadie dared to look up at her friend's fierce brown eyes and immediately wished she hadn't when she saw how disappointed they were. Sweet, sweet Caterina, who really thought Sadie was so much better than all of this tabloid drama. Sadie really wished the Latina woman was right, and yet every time she thought she was getting better she seemed to fall straight back into her messy lifestyle all over again. "I'm sorry." She said, knowing it wasn't enough, but it was all she had.

"About what?" Cat asked, her face relaxing a little bit. "About the the drunk in public thing, or for getting involved with Jimmy Page?"

"Both?"

"You know I wish that were true," Cat shook her head in half-exasperation and half-annoyance. But in classic Caterina style, she couldn't even pretend to stay mad at the blonde, her frown relaxing into a look of concern as she surveyed Sadie's sick (very hungover) appearance. "You're just lucky that you didn't get arrested for public intoxication or something. Here, let's get you into the bath and I'll make some toast and a cup of tea. I think we'll both need it."

"No no, I should go to the studio," Sadie tried to argue lamely. She hated being a burden to her band and to Caterina. But the latina woman was having none of Sadie's self-righteousness as she took hold of her sweater-clad arm and started to lead her to the upstairs bathroom. "Seriously, Cat, I promised them I'd be in this afternoon. The girls are probably—"

"At home taking a day off," Cat informed her. "I called them and informed them of the situation. They agreed to put off recording until tomorrow. But I think you can expect a good tongue lashing from Rene and Penny." Sadie groaned at the thought of it and pinched her eyes closed. God as if her day could get any worse... And still there was something nagging her at the back of her mind, like she was forgetting something important that happened last night... but maybe she was better off forgetting anyway.

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