Ronnie

16

September 26th, 1986. Stockholm, Sweden.

Cliff ran off the stage, bouncing around with energy.
He punched James in the arm as they walked down the dim hall to the showers. “We fucking rocked tonight man. That was our best show yet.”
James grinned up at him, “I don't know about the best, but it was pretty damn good.”
“What the fuck!” Kirk ran out of his shower stall.
Cliff peeped behind the curtain to see what he was yelling about.
“Lars I told you I don't want any of your fucking Tub Tarts in my shower, God damn.”
A small, blonde girl ran out of the stall with a towel wrapped around her frail body.
James stepped out of his shower dripping wet with a girl at his side. “Don't worry about him, Babe. He always has a stick up his ass, you can come join us,” he said with a smirk.
The small girl blushed and ran into James' arms.
Cliff rolled his eyes and continued washing.
James and Lars kissed their groupies goodbye as they entered the bus.
“Yeah, that phone number will get you straight to my house. Don't forget to call,” Lars said with a wink.
The two men died with laughter once the bus door closed.
“That number will go straight to my house,” James repeated through his laughs. “Nice one.”
Cliff gave them a meaningless chuckle, “You guys are assholes.”
“Whadya mean Man?” Lars asked while grabbing a beer. “We're just getting some pussy just like you should.”
“I have more respect for women than any of you do, apparently.”
Lars took a seat across from Cliff, “Whatever man. I'll find you a bitch.”
Cliff internally cringed at Lars' idiotic remark.
“How about we play some cards?” Cliff suggested.
James took a long swig of his beer, “I'm in.”
Kirk and Lars nodded in agreement.
James and Lars played for many rounds until their fatigue set in.
“Just me and you I guess,” Kirk said in a yawn.
“Mhm.” Cliff couldn't remember the last time the pair was left alone.
“I have an idea,” Cliff said.
“Hit me.”
“We'll draw cards. Whoever draws their card first wins.”
“Okay. What do I get if I win.”
“I don't know. Think of something.”
Kirk shuffled the cards and placed them face down.
“What's your card?” He asked Cliff.
“Ace of spades. Lemmy's never let me down. Yours?”
“2 of clubs.”
“Alright.”
“You first.”
A giant grin expanded over Cliff's face as he smacked his card onto the table.
“I want your bunk.”
“Fine, take my bunk, I'll sleep upfront, it's probably better up there anyway.”
Cliff patted Kirk on the shoulder. “See ya in the morning man.”
Kirk twisted around in the soft, yet uncomfortable bus seats attempting to fall asleep while Cliff was laying in his bunk thinking of Cassie as he drifted off.

The morning sun was dark, barely peeking over the trees.
The bus driver tapped his unoccupied foot to the beat of the song blasting through his Walkman. His head swayed, and his eyes grew heavier every time he blinked.
He closed his eyes for what felt like one second. His body convulsed and on impulse, he yanked the steering wheel fiercely to the left.
Kirk was thrown from his seat and violently tussled around as the bus made screeching noise and rolled.
He tried to grasp items near him to keep himself from being hurled around inside of the giant hunk of metal.
For the first time in forever, he began to pray to whatever higher being was above. “Please, not today.”

Cliff had no time to react. His eyes opened as he heard the yells of his friends and the growls of the bus.
The window keeping him inside the vehicle gave out.
With that, Cliff gave out too.

James kicked and clawed to get out of the bus. He managed to crawl out of the busted windshield. His socks felt wet as he walked on the freezing concrete. He pulled at his hair and took a few steps back to examine the damage.
The bus driver was sitting on the side of the road, staring, blankly at the wreckage.
James started to go towards him before he heard Lars.
“James,” Lars coughed, “Man, my foot.”
James rushed to help his bandmate.
“What's wrong? Where are Cliff and Kirk?”
Lars sat down on the road. “I don't know. Shit. I didn't even look for them.”
As those words left his mouth, Kirk, and their manager pulled themselves out of the bus.
“Where's Cliff?” James yelled to them.
“I thought he was out here with you,” Kirk responded.
“Fuck! Go back in and look for him.
Cliff!?”
James walked around screaming for his friend.
He walked around to the side of the bus.
An arm was sticking out from under.
“CLIFF!” He dropped to his knees and his friends were soon next to him.
“We have to get the bus off him,” James said frantically, as he looked around expecting something or someone to be there to help.
“Where the fuck is the cops!?” James yelled, “We need help.”
“They'll be here soon, James. Just take a breath,” their manager said in a fake calming tone.
“How the FUCK do you expect me to be calm when my best friend is being crushed by ten tons of metal!”
“I know. . .”
Lars tuned everyone's voice out, he turned to Kirk who was staring up to the sky. Lars hit him with his shoulder, “I can't be here,” Kirk whispered.
Lars and Kirk drifted away from James, their manager, and the rest.
Shortly after all of James' commotion the police, an ambulance, some construction workers, and a few news stations piled onto the corrupted road way.
All the men were examined in the ambulance while the construction workers were attempting to lift the bus off Cliff with a crane. It took two police men to keep James sitting still as he wanted to get up to watch the bus be moved away.
Lars was diagnosed with a broken toe and given some pain medication as the bus fell.
The horrendous sound of metal crashing down onto their friend and into the concrete.
Kirk and Lars sat silent, stunned at the sight they just saw.
James screamed and ran into the road.
No one could calm him down and matters only got worse when the bus driver attempted to take the blanket that was trapped underneath the bus next to Cliff.
Eventually, the guys (mainly James) were drug off to a hotel.
Kirk wasn't sure what to do. None of his thoughts were straight.
James? Lars? Cliff's family? The band?
Cassie?
All of these things ran through his head, but he couldn't come up with one clear thought. He sat on the hard hotel bed as James slammed down beer after beer.
“Hey man," Lars said quietly, “you should probably take it easy.”
James scoffed, “Take it fucking easy. I AM taking it fucking easy! You haven't seen anything yet! What the fuck is wrong with both of you!? Neither of you have said anything since this has happened! Aren't you fucking angry!? Or scared!? Fuck you both.”
He grabbed a bottle of liquor and slammed the door as he walked out of the room.