You Should Have Been Here Yesterday

This Day Couldn't Possibly Get More Interesting- Never Mind

So I moved in.  And things couldn't be better.  It was perfect: Almost every night I slept with Steven–and when I didn't it was because they were up all night rehearsing in the basement of the University.  Naturally, I went to the rehearsals too.  They were really starting to come together, Aerosmith.  Joe and Steven even had several original songs written and damn-near perfected.

        Joe left for California in March and came back a few days later looking like absolute hell.  When asked what happened, he said he didn't really remember.  He remarked that he woke up with a bloody nose, left for the airport, and heard that Zunk got taken by the cops the following week.  Then he went back to playing his guitar.

        Another thing that's cool: the dining room, which has turned into Tom's room, has an upright piano in it.  When Joe, Tom, and Mark got the place, they didn't get rid of the piano.  So that gave me something else to do during the day.

        The guys somehow ran into this guy at the Fenway Theatre a few minutes from the house.  It was empty and unused, and they needed a better rehearsal space.  The guy told them they'd have to audition to see if they could use the space.  They auditioned for this cat named Frank Connelly.  I pity you if you haven't heard if him.  He's huge in the music industry, I think.  He's the guy the re-convinced the Beatles to come to America.

        And guess what?

        He let them play there.  He liked Aerosmith.

        The guys named him Father Frank because he was so good to them.  In turn, he nicknamed the guys:

        Tom was Low Gear; Steven was LM for loudmouth; Joey was Soitanly, like how Curley said certainly in The Three Stooges; Brad was coined Light Horse; and Joe was Flash.  Which is strange because Joe used to have a band called Flash.

        Now that they were getting higher paying gigs, we had more money.  Therefore, there were more drugs.  I mean, before, it was common to walk home and see them sharing a joint and writing songs, but now it was just expected.

        There was also good(ish) and beer in the refrigerator at nearly all times.  So that was a plus.

        By the summertime, things were really looking good for the guys.  1970's been good to us so far.

--

It was another typical morning for us in 1325: I didn't want to get out of bed, Steven tried to wake me up because he was hungry, and the other guys doing whatever the hell they do.  The usual.

        "Get up," Steven whined for the nth time.

       "No."  I rolled away from him.  Really, it'd be easier to get up.  But I dint want to.

        "Please?" he begged.  "Before I forget what color eyes you have?"

        "There blue."

      I can mentally see him rolling his eyes, and I try to hide my smirk.  "You'll have to sleep on the couch tonight," he sings in an attempt at a threat.

        "Y'know who sleeps on the couch?  Joe."  I grinned.  "I think we both know you don't want that," I said, peeking an eye open.  "Besides, how am I gonna get to the couch if I don't get outta bed?"

        Steven frowned.  "There's ways," he replied ominously.

        "Whatever."  I closed my eyes again.  And then I was no longer laying down.  "Put me down, asshole," I said, trying to sound mad but failing miserably, "I'm trying to sleep!"