Billy made his way down from the upper level; the bar had set aside a small area where they could all sit and enjoy a beer in peace. Some fans approached asking for photos with him, and though it came with minor annoyance, it was exactly what he had expected. Still, no one made much of it, and Billy's security handled everything calmly—the advantage of having a two-meter-tall man at his side during concert season, along with a woman from the special forces who appeared less intimidating, yet far less approachable.
--So they partied for two straight weeks, and no one even realized they'd gone missing until a paparazzi sent the photos to an Italian newspaper. —Billy sighed, listening to the story of how the band had wrapped up an international tour, only to spiral into chaos. After finishing the tour, they somehow ended up at a private estate, celebrating nonstop for two days, which caused them to miss their flight. They then found themselves in a small town hosting a carnival, where they kept the party going, eventually staying at the home of some fans who sheltered them. Their agent completely lost track of them for three days and nearly went insane.
In one particularly wild turn, Jim Morrison threw a full tantrum about marrying a woman—which he almost did—but she ended up moving on to a small property in France, a place where people gathered for free-spirited encounters. That led to five more days of wandering until they ran out of money, and the record label had to send someone to retrieve them.
—Yeah, kid, it was one of the best parties of my life. —Ray Manzarek said.
--We didn't need to be handsome like you; we just had fun and lived with the consequences. Back then, the wealth was in our hands but not in the way you'd expect. Agents used to be completely ruthless, and it was only through a true rebellion that we ended up having something of our own. —John Densmore added, sitting there with his signature blend of calm and quiet anarchy. He wore a classic mustache, long at the ends with a slight curl. He was old—truly old—but there was a strength behind him that made anyone want to approach and talk.
The small restaurant seemed to shrink around them. Billy began to understand how everything moved, and it felt like a shame that no one had been by his side during the kind of stories he wished to live for himself. Only Jack Sauce had the kind of madness required to replicate such a party.
--Then I hope someday I'll party for a full week. —Billy replied. He had already done something similar in his own way—not particularly impressive, and certainly not glorious. The truth was, at some point, the body simply gave out from exhaustion.
Billy took a sip of beer while tasting the meat canapés—slightly spicy, seasoned with red pepper that added a pleasant heat, a sharpness that lingered in the airways.
--Even if it lasts, it's the memory that makes a party truly unforgettable. —Robby Krieger said, swallowing slowly. I remember a time we stayed at a hippie commune. Everyone was completely devoted to enjoying themselves. We got there around half past midnight, and my eyelids were already heavy; we'd been on a long road trip. My back ached, my head felt like a swollen pear, pounding really pounding. The night was freezing, but they had bonfires lit all around. People were having fun, some smoking in the grass, and the atmosphere was electric. And of course, beautiful women came up to you, touching you like you were some lucky statue. For reasons I can't fully recall, we had a bottle in our hands that we'd been drinking from since morning, and we danced every kind of dance. I think Jim was in an especially good mood with that flirtatious, long-legged girl, Kath, who had that incredible way of getting under his skin. It all turned into a dance I still remember to this day, when all we did was be happier than we had been in years. Not long after, the band went through a rough break
some chaotic event
Each of them began sharing their own version of that night Robby remembered so vividly.
—We loved Patty. —John said, thinking of the bassist from that time, a woman made for rock, someone who awakened the deepest joy in everyone.
--Now we're just old men, tired. —Robby added. Silence settled over them. Many were worn down by the years they had lived through rock—they just wanted to enjoy what time they had left, now that their bodies no longer responded the way they once did.
--Well, I think you're still tough for your age. I'd like to reach your age and still be that fierce on stage, though I think I'll retire at thirty-five and spend my last years partying. —Billy said, thinking of Jim Morrison again, that restless soul who never quite fit into a conventional life, always drifting like something untamed.
--I think you're a complete fool. —John replied calmly, with a hint of nostalgia.
…
Billy eventually wrapped up the gathering with the old band. Now all that remained was to head home, but with his departure across England the next day, he didn't feel like doing much—perhaps inviting a group over, perhaps not.
--It's only a small part. —
He murmured to himself. For some time now, he had held a clear, almost fixed idea of what he wanted and what he needed over the next thirty days. His phone kept vibrating—countless invitations to parties—but none of it mattered.
--I can only say it plainly, coldly. —
He whispered under his breath, slipping into his habits, his mind drifting through ideas, colors forming in his imagination. He wanted to refuse it all, but when he arrived home, he found someone he had never expected to see there—a dark-haired woman.
He didn't let it pass.
--So, you've got a lot to say. —Billy remarked, looking at Alicia Keys. She had come strictly on business, though it carried a tone of quiet blackmail that reshaped the reality of a singer's life. She knew, from reliable sources, that she could ruin Gwen's career, and the blonde's influence over Billy had already crumbled when he realized nothing good could come from that relationship. It was a torment—this woman pushing him to the edge, demanding concerts, songs, any kind of technical support in exchange for her silence. She even suggested a relationship, and he saw clearly how complicated everything could become.
—I think you came at the worst possible time. —Billy said.
I've got a concert here tomorrow. And I'll be staying at your place. The brunette replied playfully, almost charmingly. Yet something about her stirred a deep mistrust in him; her connections alone were enough, starting with the political activists Jerry despised.