All sorts of One-Shots/ Imagines or whatever you want to call it about the Rolling Stones.
For more "description", read the 'Please Allow Me to Introduce Myself' chapter.
Thank you. ♡♡♡
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Happy Birthday Charlie Watts!~
This was actually supposed to be a book and I had it already published, but unpublished it then again, because I had no time to write it and well then Wattpad decided to unpublish it as well, so I decided to just post it here. There are going to be 3 parts.
No warnings this time. Beside that this is the most serious thing in this book yet and I probably should have read it one more time before publishing. Oh well. This is rather short, but it was planned as a short story.
Overture
Can you hear the music; can you hear the music? Can you feel the magic hangin' in the air? Can you feel the magic? Oh, yeah. *
Charlie had a lot of patience and he had to.
Not that he minded that his band mates were a lot louder, wilder and crazier than him. Charlie was quite satisfied with his life. He was married to woman he loved, was the father of a beautiful daughter and had a job that he liked. He surely couldn't complain and still even he had days where he just wanted to get away from it all. Days he wished he could just be Charlie. Not dealing with being a member of the Rolling Stones, not feeling awkward about the girls that chased after them, not listening to Mick's complains all the time, not feeling guilty for leaving his wife all alone, not having to sleep every night in a different hotel room and the list went on. With every passing day, it got longer and longer and he grew more and more tired of it all.
In short, Charlie needed a break. A holiday. A few days away from everything.
He had thought about it a few times already, but never managed to go through with it. He was simply too honest and responsible. He couldn't just leave Shirley all alone again and truth been told he didn't really want to leave either. Charlie didn't like travelling at all, but neither did he liked going on like this.
He promised himself, he wouldn't go too far and he would only leave for a couple of days to get back to his normal self or whatever it was he needed. Nothing more. Just a small break.
Charlie got in his car with a suitcase filled with a couple of hastily assembled things. He wasn't sure if he had even a single pair of matching socks nor if he had packed any socks at all. He had just randomly thrown clothes inside his suitcase, but he doubted it mattered much for the moment. If he needed something, Charlie could always buy them along the road to wherever it was he wanted to go to. Or maybe a break from his always neat and put together attire would do him so good as well. Who knew?
Charlie didn't.
He hardly knew if he could even leave to begin with. He was not Brian and couldn't just disappear to god knows where, because he simply felt like it and not caring about any other responsibilities. And still Charlie was now here sitting in his car, prepared to leave without any indication where he was off to, except for a quick note on the kitchen counter for Shirley. He hadn't written much, but it was the least he could do. 'Don't worry. I'll be back soon, Love Charlie.' He knew it was rather cowardly of him, but otherwise he probably would never have found enough courage to go. He could never have told Shirley to her face that he would leave her on her own her again for some stupid reason, he didn't even really understand himself.
He was second guessing this trip already and he hadn't even started his car yet. Charlie really wasn't made out for this life and wondered how the others could live like it. Didn't they have a conscious telling them off about those things as well? Or maybe the amount of drugs and alcohols they did, kept it at bay and made it easier to ignore.
Maybe a glass would have helped him with his decision too or at least made it indeed easier, but responsible like Charlie was, he didn't want to drink when he still had to drive.
He took a deep breath and Charlie knew he had to do this now or he would probably never dare again to take this step. Once in a while, everyone needed to be an egoistic bastard, even him. He turned his key around and the car roared to life. Charlie drove off in hope, that he would indeed find whatever it was he was looking for.
*
Act I
The motel looked awful.
He had seen a lot of shabby places, but this seemed to be the worst he ever had laid eyes on. The moment he entered the lobby everything in Charlie told him to run off, jump in his car and to never ever return here and he was really tempted to do exactly that until he heard the music.
Bittersweet, heavy, bluesy, filled with feelings... It was as sad as it was magical. The piano was old, the colour on the wood had faded here and there and the sound was slightly out of tune. Strangely it gave the music a more distinctive sound.
Charlie had no idea how long he stood there rooted to the spot, hypnotised by the music until the receptionist yelled out for him to get his attention and the spell he had been under broke. He teared his eyes away from the piano and stepped closer to the reception desk. The receptionist looked as welcoming as did the rest of the motel. But at least he didn't seem to recognise him or he simply didn't care or maybe Charlie only didn't take notice of it.
His mind was still filled with the beautiful song that played in the background.
"Did you book a room?"
He didn't recognise it and still it seemed familiar as if he had heard it somewhere before. Charlie had no idea where though. He would have liked to ask the pianist, but he couldn't even see them from his position. They had to be rather small to hide behind the upright piano that well. It was maximal 5'3, if Charlie had to guess.
"Listen buddy, you either tell me what you want or you can just fuck off. I have better things to do than wait for you to reply."
Charlie blushed and finally managed to open his mouth.
"I-I need a room for tonight..." he mumbled slightly embarrassed, looking everywhere but the piano or the receptionist. The floor seemed perfect. It was dirty as if it had't been cleaned in at least 3 months and Charlie certainly didn't want to know the origin of certain stains. Some things were better left unknown.
"Room 15 is free. You need to pay in advance," came the gruff response nearly immediately.
"Okay," he replied and was about to take his wallet out of his pockets, when the music stopped. Charlie heard some shuffling and immediately looked up to catch a glimpse of the pianist.
Female. Small. Long red hair and gone in the blink of an eye. Disappeared behind a door, but still very present in his thoughts. The receptionist had said something, probably the price for the night, but Charlie hadn't caught it. There was only one thing that interested him.
"Who was that?"
"Nobody of your business." The reply still as gruff as before. "Pay me, take your key and leave."
Charlie bit his lip. He couldn't give up that easily. "Does she play professionally?"
The receptionist laughed. "Nobody would be that desperate."
"She's fantastic," Charlie answered frowning. Not understanding the distaste in the other man's voice.
A snort and the last words Charlie would have expected to hear were what he got as an answer.
