Ch 44: Fracturing (Bruce)

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We were almost done with the European leg of our tour and we were all pretty damn sick of each other, and it was really starting to show. As fun as it was to be a part of Kiss, the drama was something I was quickly growing sick of.

"You're never free to do anything! All you ever do at night is go off and have sex with people!" "I go off to see my wife! Sorry for loving the woman I'm married to!" "You never have any time for the band, it pisses me off!" "I have a family, alright?! I love my wife and my son and I love spending time with them! And you're one to talk! I've put more work into this stupid band than anyone else!" "Oh, bullshit you have! I've been running it! I hold it together! You're always off somewhere else and you're leaving me to manage everything!"

I rolled over in bed with a groan, burying myself deeper under the pillows and wishing I could completely block out the sound of Gene and Paul arguing. Again. Like always. "Gosh why do they always have to do this at night?" I mumbled to myself.

"Fucking bullshit!" Eric hissed, sliding out of bed and throwing open the connecting door. I rolled my eyes with a grin, listening. "Hey, can both of you shut the fuck up? Like please, shut the fuck up. Nobody cares who's putting more effort into the band. Nobody cares which of you two is in the right at the moment. You're mature adults so shut up and just talk it out," he hissed. "You're going to get us thrown out of the hotel and ruin our reputation. It was bad enough with Ace trashing rooms, we don't need you two doing this shit too."

There was silence before I heard him let out a huff, pivoting sharply on his heel and slamming the door shut behind him. "Thanks Eric. They needed that," I said with a yawn. He flopped back onto his bed with a sigh as we heard Gene and Paul's muffled apologizes to each other. "Ugh man they're...they can be so annoying sometimes I swear. Like yeah I missed having them as friends, especially Gene, but like damn I didn't realize they were going to butt heads this much," he muttered.

"Yeah, I know. But I mean...they always kind of have, so what's new. I'm sure it'll be fine though! Just try and get some sleep." Instead of responding, Eric just sat up in his bed, massaging his chest with a wince. "Damn," he muttered with a frown. I gave him a concerned look. "You alright?" I asked. He shrugged, massaging his chest a bit more aggressively. "I don't know. It feels weird breathing when I lie down. It's probably nothing though, I'm sure I just have like a chest cold. Or maybe I'm just developing asthma like you," he teased.

I didn't smile. "Yeah. Look, you should get that checked out when we get back home. Just in case it's something else, like pneumonia." He nodded, lying back on some pillows. "Yeah, yeah I will. If it gets worse I will, don't worry."

I stayed up later than he did, watching him sleep. It was obvious he was struggling a bit to breathe, even almost sitting upright, and every so often he'd cough aggressively in his sleep. I didn't sleep much that night.

I woke him up early the next morning. "Eric. You need to go to a doctor." He nodded, closing his eyes again. "I will, I will. When we get home, I promise." "Eric I mean it. You need to go to the doctor when we get back. I'm worried about you, you don't sound good. Promise me you'll go to a doctor when we get home?"

He nodded, sitting up with a wince. "I will, I will, I promise! I promise," he said, reaching for his phone. "Oh hold on, Gene wants to talk to me, let me run down to the arena and do that then I'll be back! Go ahead and use the shower while I'm gone then I'll get cleaned up when I come back," he said, sliding out of bed and throwing on some clothes. "And when we get back home I'll go to the doctor's, don't worry." Trying to convince myself he was just coming down with a cold, I hopped in the shower and tried to get ready for the show tonight.

Eric came back like an hour later in tears, lying on the couch and sobbing into the cushions. I sat next to him, immediately concerned, and slipped an arm around his shoulders. "What's wrong? What happened, are you okay?!" I asked. He shook his head. "It's nothing. D-don't worry about it. I'm just gonna get showered," he choked, rising to his feet and practically running to the bathroom. Scowling, I headed toward the arena, getting angrier with every step.


I found him sitting at a table, running over stuff for tonight, acting like he didn't have a care in the world. "Gene." He looked up from his phone, giving me a concerned look. "What? What's wrong?" he asked, half-rising to his feet. "What did you do to Eric?" I asked in a low voice, shaking.

"I--I don't...what?" "What. Did you do. To Eric?" I hissed. "I'm just--what's wrong with him?" he stammered out after a pause. "He came back to the room, in tears, and won't talk to me about what's wrong. So I'm going to ask you again. What did you do to Eric?"

His face grew red and he ran a hand through his hair. "I...well Paul and I had been talking and we had...we told Eric we uh...we had to cut his solo," he mumbled. My face grew hot and I flipped the table he had been sitting at, sending papers scattering everywhere. "Are you fucking serious?! Why the hell would you cut his solo?!"

"Well we just thought--" "No! You know how he fucking feels about that! You know how he feels like he's not a real part of the band, that he doesn't really contribute because he's stuck behind his kit, and you responded by cutting his solo?! His favorite part of the show?!" "Well I mean financially--" "Oh, of course! Of course it was about the money! Dammit Gene, get your head out of your ass and go fuck yourself!" I shouted, turning and storming off.

Gene jumped to his feet, chasing after me. "Wait Bruce I'm sorry, I didn't think--" "Just shut up and go fuck yourself, seriously. I'm so done with your bullshit. It's always about you and the money, never anyone else. Give Eric back his solo or I'm walking."

He stared at me in horror. "You wouldn't," he choked. I just stared back, scowling. "I will walk out and leave you without a guitarist before the tour, and I will do everything possible to blacklist the band so you can't hire a new one. Give him back his fucking solo."

"You wouldn't," he said again.

I somehow got even angrier and I jabbed him in the chest. "Gene, listen to me. Eric is my closest friend. I care about him more than anything. I will absolutely leave the band if you don't give him his solo. I'm not going to stick around and put up with this bullshit anymore. Either fix it, or I'm out. And chances are, he'll walk too," I snarled, walking off.


Still seething, I took a deep breath before walking inside, trying to get myself to calm down. Eric has gone back to being curled up on the couch, clutching a pillow and staring miserably at the wall. He sat up when I walked in, giving me a look. "Bruce what did you do?" he asked.

"Hm? What happened? What are you talking about?" I asked, trying to play innocent. He gave me a look, holding up his phone. "You're gone for like half an hour and in that time I suddenly get a text from Gene saying 'Eric I'm sorry after thinking abt it we shouldn't have gotten rid of ur solo so we're gonna give it back to u. sorry abt that man' which just lines up way too perfectly with you being gone. So seriously. What did you do?"

I sat on the couch next to him, patting him on the back. "Don't worry about it." He gave me a flat look. "Bruce Howard Kulick. What the hell did you do?" he asked. I heaved a sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Well...you came home and you were upset and you wouldn't tell me what was wrong so I decided I'd go and talk to Gene and asked what happened and he told me they cut your solo. So I uh...I told him if he didn't give you back your solo I'd walk out of the band."

He gave me a stunned look. "Bruce you didn't." "I did. So yeah. Sorry you had to deal with that man. But hey, you got your solo back!" He let out a laugh, shaking his head and giving me a hug. "Aw Bruce I love you. Damn, I don't deserve a friend like you." I shrugged, hugging him back. "Oh shut up. It's the least I could do."

"You shouldn't have done that though! I mean what if they kicked you out of the band?!" he cried. I shrugged. "Then I would've been fired. It's fine though, if they had fired me I could've found another job." "You still shouldn't have done that," he mumbled. I shrugged again, slipping an arm around his shoulders. "But I did it anyway."

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