𝙇𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝘼𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛, 𝘽𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙚!

SIXTEEN - Night Out

The two sought out the musician through the crowd, Mick must've invited about every person he'd ever met. They heard Iggy before they saw him, who was joking around with Keith Richards in the corner. 

"Look who came to join us, birthday girl and her latest scandal--"

"Stop talking, Keith." Mari said, trying her best to be heard over the talk of the people around them. Iggy whispered something in David's ear, the two laughing before David gave the man a light shove.

"You two haven't met. Jim, this is Mari."

The two shook hands, "Nice to meet you, happy birthday." Iggy smiled.

"Nice to meet you too." Mari responded.

"She has all your records." David butted in, she lightly shoved him as the he, Keith, and Iggy laughed.

"I appreciate it." Iggy laughed as Mari's face grew red out of embarrassment. 

"Sorry, she's a bit nervous. We're trying to meet everyone here."

"Not everyone." she interrupted.

"We're trying to work on up to Bob Dylan." David ignored, a smile on his face.

"Oh, so I'm at the bottom of the list?"

"I'm afraid you are, Jim." 

The three men laughed, Mari nervously looking around until she saw where the drinks were located.

"How about I go get us some drinks? Iggy, do you want anything? Keith?" she asked, desperately trying to find a way out of the situation.

"I could use a drink."

"Yeah, sure-- also, you can call me Jim." Iggy said, his well-known midwestern accent shining through.

Mari nodded and walked off leaving David with Keith and Jim. 

"So...? What's with you two?" Jim asked David as soon as Mari was out of their range. Keith listened intently for an answer.

"Just friends."

"...You haven't had sex?" Keith hesitantly asked, Jim stifling a laugh at the question.

"No." He deadpanned.

With the current situation that he and Mari were in, their friendship making its way to the papers, David wasn't in the mood for jokes at their expense. He knew this would only be the first of many times he'd be asked this question, so he tried to play a light joke. Keith and Jim could still tell he was offset by the blunt question.

Keith hummed in acknowledgment, the coldness of David's reply wafting through the air.

"I've heard about her before, I like her stuff." Jim said, breaking the ice.

Keith nodded, "I've known her for a year or so. She's an incredible artist, she's really talented."

"You guys working on anything together, David?" Jim asked.

David tuned back into the conversation, he'd zoned out for a moment.

He gave a sly smile, "I can't say."

The two men laughed, "Can't wait." Keith said.

Mari finally made it through the crowd of people to where the drink table was, filling four cups with whatever kind of beer they had. She turned around, two red solo cups filled with beer in each hand, and made her way back to the three men.

"Here you go, lads." she said, handing each man one cup.

She stuck next to David for the rest of the night, he introduced her to Elton John, who loved her, before John got a hold of her and managed to introduce her to about half of the people there. She felt amazing.

*

David didn't go home after Mari's party. 

He felt that he should've, it would've been the logical thing to do, half-drunk and off, but he had a meet with his dealer.

David knew it wasn't smart of him to deal drugs the day before the first day of shooting a movie. He couldn't help it, that was all he told himself. He just couldn't help it. His urges were strong, he  couldn't just ignore them.

Walking down the familiar street he went down far too often, he took a harder look that he usually did at the things around him. A trash can here, another there, some benches with people who looked akin to Warhol's Superstars, a man eating straight out of a box of leftovers.

Why did he move to the city?

He couldn't tell you. Maybe it was that he'd gotten tired of London, he wanted a change. Maybe he just got tired of it all.

Why did he do this to himself?

All the drugs, all the toxicity. He knew it would kill him, he'd already had enough breakdowns, and they would likely only get worse. But who knew? Why would the coke kill him any faster than the pills he'd been taking for years? Why should he care?

He lost the thoughts before he could retrace him as he stepped into the alleyway, greeting the same man he always did.

Deep down, he knew this issue was growing, but he would always continue to ignore it just the same.

***