Glamorous Times

Out of The Blue

Marc Bolan POV

At about five o'clock, I decide to head on over to David's place to help him set up for the party. When I knock on the door, there's no answer. He should be in his house...

So, I knock again, and still no answer. Again and again I try, and there's absolutely not a peep coming from David's house.

Oh no! I think, He's in trouble....

Fortunately, the front door is unlocked, so I don't have to worry about banging down the door. I'm not really big into banging down doors. I run inside, and I don't see David anywhere. I run to the bathroom to see if he's dead, but fortunately, I don't see any blood in the bathtub. I don't like blood either, actually, it's kind of gross. I run into the last place I can think of, his bedroom. When I get there, I find what I fear the most: David, motionless on his bed.

I walk over to him, hand over my mouth, and nudge him to see if he's sleeping. What the heck, that dork is waking up.

"Oh no," David says, "I slept through the party didn't I?"

"No," I respond, "It's still five, but people will be showing up in just a couple hours probably."

"Ugh, well, why did you wake me up?" he groans.

"I don't know, because I thought you were dead?" I say. I sit down on the bed next to David, "Besides, your party won't put itself together! I mean, I invited my whole band, all our girlfriends, and even my producer!"

"Oh, you mean Tony? He's mine!" Okay, sassy pants needs to calm down...

"He's both of our producer, okay? Anyways, he's going to be here with about twenty other people!"

"Good, you did your job."

"Well, you didn't do yours, I mean, you don't even have any decorations!" How can he expect to have a party without decorations?

"Well, it's going to be stripped down!" ugh, David just doesn't know how to have a party...

"Believe me, half of your guests will leave if you don't have A decorations, or B food!"

"Well, I have B covered, so, you can take A." Before I get a chance to speak, I hear a knock from the door. "Who is it?" David shouts.

A muddled shout from the downstairs responds, "Brian Eno! I'm here to help with the party, if you need it!"

I eye David to make sure he knows we need the help, "Yeah, come upstairs."

We hear the sounds of Brian coming up the stairs and then he shouts again, "Okay, where upstairs?"

"Oh, we're all in my bedroom, I guess!" I laugh a little at this, and then poor Brian comes in with a rather disturbed look.

"When you said everyone was working in the bedroom I was worried I would be walking in on an orgy." So, Brian comes in and sits down right next to me.

"Hi, I'm Marc," I say extending my hand, accounting for the fact that I've never actually met Brian.

Brian shakes my hand and says, " Pleasure meeting you, Marc. Okay, so it doesn't look like there's going to be a party here very shortly, what are we doing?"

"Well, David here," I answer slightly frustrated, "Only organized the food. Apparently it's up to us to organize the music and decorations!"

Brian furrows his brow and says, "A party without music! What a silly idea..."

"I know, right! Hey, how about I get the music together, and you go to a nearby drug store and get, oh I don't know, just get some glitter and tissue paper to throw everywhere!"

"Oooo! Maybe some feathers!" Brian exclaims.

"Sure, whatever you'd like!" with that, Brian is gone, and David is back to sleep. Does that mean I have to put together all the music myself? Well, that's great...

I go down to David's record collection. Hmm, an interesting collection of oldies and new stuff. Now, in desperate circumstances like these, it is smart to just pick a couple albums and then have them ordered how you would like to play them. Yeah, we don't have time for mixtapes, unfortunately. I pick out plenty of Beatles, a little Elvis, and just a dash of the Stooges. (I know Iggy will probably be here. If you want that boy to go really wild, play his own music.) He even has some Bing Crosby, but I fancy that will likely result in me getting tossed out the window by Iggy if I try to play that. (Believe me, one only wants to get thrown out the window by Iggy once in a lifetime.) Actually, if I tried to play one of my beloved Bob Dylan records the results might not be very good.

I arrange all the music nicely in a stack and put it next to David's record player. I have to admit, he has a really nice speaker system, so it will be easily to blast the stuff all through the house. Brian comes back with armfuls of random tissue paper, glitter, and yes, feathers.

"Come on!" he says, "Let's go throw this everywhere!"

I take half of the implements and start, well, throwing it everywhere. Brian seems to be much more meticulous, as he is actually arranging all of it into sensible looking decorations. After we're done, I tell Brian, "Nailed it."

Brian gives me a high five and we both admire our rather, um, interesting work. Hey, David wanted a nice party put together on short notice, and this is what he's getting. I just really hope he doesn't mind the fact that his toilet is now covered in sequins.

"I think we should get going to pick up our crews, eh?" I say.

"Yeah, I suppose we should. I wouldn't be surprised if Andy is still sleeping," Brian responds.

"Who's Andy?"

"Oh, you'll find out, my friend."

Hey, thank you all for all of the awesome comments last chapter, honestly getting that many comments so quickly on a story just made my day!