Decades

From Bad to Worse

Mick and John heard Lindsey yelling for Stevie, followed by the sound of shattering glass. John rolled his eyes at Mick as they both sprinted down the hall, hoping to catch Lindsey before too much damage was done. "What the hell, Buckingham?" Mick asked.

Lindsey ignored the two of them, "Christine!" he shouted for his bandmate in a frustrated tone, "You said you'd get her to talk to me!" He smacked his hand against the door. "Stevie! Let me in, goddammit, Stevie! Open the fucking door!" Lindsey shattered an empty bottle against the door to Stevie's suite. He was barefoot and walking through the glass as if it wasn't there. John grabbed his arm and walked him away from the mess as Mick bent down to pick up some of the bigger pieces.

Lindsey tried to jerk himself away from John, but John, in his quiet way, pointed out the glass and his bare feet. "Just looking out for you, man. How about you have a seat, until we get this cleaned up, eh?" John's voice had a calming effect on Lindsey. John guided him down to the floor and sat across from him, their backs against opposing walls.

John wasn't sure he wanted to know what was happening between Stevie and Lindsey. He'd seen it all before. The details probably weren't that important. They'd been getting along too well. This was bound to happen eventually. So, John just sat quietly while Mick went to his suite and came back with a broom and dustpan from the kitchen.

He tossed Lindsey a pair of slippers that were too big for him but would at least protect him from stray shards of glass. Nobody felt like a trip to the ER for stitches today.

Mick was less content with just letting Lindsey sit there quietly. He'd seen Lindsey and Stevie's battles before, and while he cared for them both, he still had a soft spot for Stevie after their affair. He wished that if she and Lindsey couldn't work things out, they'd just leave each other alone. He'd seen too many incidents like this over the years. He felt somewhat responsible since his contact with Lindsey was partially the reason the band reunited this time prior to the tour.

"Since you're the one locked out, begging to be let in, I'm going to assume you're at fault for whatever this is," he gestured to Stevie's suite, the shattered glass, and to Lindsey on the floor barefooted and an all-out mess, "am I right?"

Mick's voice had a disgusted edge that he didn't try to conceal. Stevie had been through such a difficult time, and she'd beaten her drug addiction. He appreciated how Lindsey had supported her, but he would ring the guitarist's neck if something he'd done pushed her back to her tranquilizer addiction.

Mick cared about the band first and foremost. And that would be a disaster for the entire group, all of the people who they employed would suffer. Not to mention, Mick wasn't sure Stevie could come back from another bout with addiction.

Lindsey ignored the two men, hands covering his face. Mick asked again, his frustration intensifying, "What did you do to her this time?"

Still, no answer from Lindsey.

He didn't appreciate being questioned. He was angry that Stevie wouldn't just talk to him and was furious that his life had been going the way he wanted it to, finally, only to have made an impulsive decision that upended it.

Mick emptied the glass fragments into the trashcan in his suite and dialed Stevie's room while he was there. Christine picked up the phone. "What's going on? Lindsey isn't telling us anything," Mick reported.

"He's really fucked up this time, Mick. But it's not my place to tattle on him. Lindsey or Stevie need to be the ones who tell you. Trust me, it's bad. Here comes Stevie. She's been in the bathroom throwing up."

"Is she taking something?" Mick asked, at once concerned about her addiction issues.

"Oh no, nothing. Not yet. But I worry that this will undermine everything she's done to get better. She's just made herself physically ill because she's so upset. Poor dear," Chris let out a tired sigh. "Hey, can you try to get Lindsey away from her door, if you will? I'd like to see her able to avoid him, at least until he sobers up. And she may want to change hotels. She deserves to have the chance if she wants to get out of here." Mick agreed to try but made no promises. He knew how stubborn Lindsey could be.

"Thank God we have the night off at least," Christine commented. "I'll speak with you soon."

When Mick entered the hall, Lindsey had positioned himself in Stevie's suite's doorway. He was beating on the door with the palm of his hand, making an awful racket. Occasionally, he'd knock the back of his head into the door as well. He was a drunken mess.

John glanced up at Mick, grimaced, and shrugged. Lindsey hadn't offered him any information, and he hadn't requested any. He just wanted to talk to Stevie. Mick tried another approach, "Why don't you go to your room and get some sleep? Sober up, and soon she'll want to kiss and make up. That's what you always do. Come on, Buck, making up with Stevie is your favorite thing, isn't it? Otherwise, you might have stopped trying to provoke her years ago."

Lindsey slurred, looking for someone to take his anger out on, "What do you know about making up with Stevie? You didn't care enough about her to make up with her when you hurt her."

"Well, we certainly won't be going there tonight, mate," Mick rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed breath.

"Why are you here? You want her, don't ya?" Lindsey's voice was getting louder, "You think you have a chance now that I fucked up? Is that why you're hanging around her door? You just want to fuck her, you asshole," Lindsey slurred, spitting as he spoke.

After some struggling with his balance, Lindsey made it to his feet. "Did you do this before we broke up the first time? Just hang around her door every time I messed up, hoping you could have her?"

Mick would have rather avoided this with Lindsey. He needed the band on good terms. But, it was difficult to refrain from snide remarks about how easy it had been to initiate things with Stevie since Lindsey had left her feeling broken, devastated, and lonely after they'd briefly reunited before Lindsey blew it all to hell once again all those years earlier.

Mick hadn't seen himself as a villain. He'd just been trying to lift her spirits and have a little fun, and their similar love of a certain powdery white substance hadn't hurt either.

While Mick never wanted to take responsibility for hurting Stevie, he sure didn't mind blaming Lindsey any time she struggled. Tonight was no different. "You know how hard the last years have been for her. Why couldn't you have just left her alone? Instead of__instead of whatever it is that you did this time?" Mick's voice was raised too by now. John decided he needed to get to his feet as well.

Mick had had enough drinks not to mind a go at Lindsey. And Lindsey was too far gone to consider where he was aiming his anger. "Have you wanted her the whole fucking time? You took advantage of her once. I guess you're hoping you can get in her pants again." John grabbed Lindsey's arm when he noticed that he was making a fist and that Mick looked like he was about to charge Lindsey.

John knocked loudly on the door, "Chris, get out here!"

She opened the door a crack and saw that things were tense in the hall, and she grabbed Mick by the arm and jerked him inside. This further enraged Lindsey. He'd be going nowhere now. This was like adding gasoline to a fire.

Not only did he want to talk to Stevie, he wanted Mick to stay away from her. In his drunken stupor, he felt that Mick would ruin any chance he had of fixing things with Stevie. He was reliving the drummer's affair with Stevie and was enraged all over again, bubbling over with things he'd never said but had been thinking about for more than 20 years.

Christine and John looked at each other and held eye contact. John was trying to communicate to her that Mick going inside was probably a bad idea. But Lindsey started approaching the door and shoved past Christine before John could alert her.

When Lindsey staggered through the suite's foyer into the living room, he found a distraught Stevie wrapped in Mick's arms for comfort. Things went downhill from there.