californication ☽ a.k

7

i saw rhcp a couple weeks ago for the second time im still depressed that it's over.

I quickly fastened my backpack that currently held two bottles of Jack Daniels, a bottle of Smirnoff Vodka and a six pack of Coors Light beer.

"Michael! Are you ready to go?" I called.

"Mhm." He mumbled as he walked down the staircase leading to the foyer. "Y'know you can call me Flea right? No one but our mother calls me Michael anymore."

"You're not a pest. I can't get used to calling you that."

"Whatever Mel." He chuckled.

It was nice to see him smile.

"So what'd you bring?" He asked.

"Well, Smirnoff, Jack and Coors."

He nodded as we began walking to Anthony's place, we walked everywhere, who needs a car?

As we arrived Anthony answered the door as I was about to knock. He wore a smile from one side of his beautiful face to the next, his eyes were bloodshot, he looked almost psychotic.

"Hey guys!" He practically yelled.

"Are you o--" I began.

"I'll explain later Mel, let's just get going." Flea Interrupted.

I dismissed it, laughing as Anthony was dancing down the street to the faint music playing from local bars.

"So, where are we headed?" Flea asked.

"A beach. One you've probably never heard of. It's quiet and great to drink alone at." I stated.

"You drink alone? Do you have any friends?" Anthony asked.

To be honest, no. My only real friend at this point is Anthony, and I haven't known him long at all, to know much about him. Drinking alone by water, that gets deeper by the step, is incredibly dangerous, but at this point of my life I could care less where I pass out or if I wake up.

"Not really." I whispered just loud enough so they could hear me.

"Make some." Flea said absentmindedly.

"It's not that easy when you work so much that the only people you really know are the rude men that constantly beg me for drinks. My day off is spent inside our shit hole of a house because I'm too tired to do anything else."

"Well you have me, Mel." Anthony said, sincerely, almost snapping out of his psychotic mood for a second.

"Yea me too, don't you have to work tomorrow?" Flea asked.

"Yea. I can go to work on two hours of sleep, I sort of don't really care."

The rest of the walk there was filled with laughter, erupting from Michael and I because of Anthony's boost of energy.

It sort of worried me, Marijuana doesn't make you like this, I've seen Anthony on it once anyway and with Hillel's passing.. maybe he's just so depressed he's using stupidity to cheer himself up.

"So, are the mighty Red Hot Chili Peppers over or is there gonna be another drummer, another guitarist?" I asked.

"We're trying stuff out, we've got some good shit, can't let go of Tony Flow and his minions."

Michael started laughing harder than I've ever seen him. "Oh I'm just a minion? Fuck Tony Flow."

"I like Tony Flow. Not as much as Antoine the Swan though." I joined in with the laughter.

We had reached a quiet path, leaving the busy streets of Los Angeles to a quiet beach, sunset almost reaching the light blue sky, full of plump clouds. Clear, clean water was reaching shore and little waves were erupting.

"I'm taking my fucking shirt off and jumping in." Anthony practically yelled, destroying the moment of silence created by the beauty of the beach.

"ALCOHOL!" I yelled, putting all the beer, vodka and whisky on the sand, just before the water.

a/n next chapter is gonna be depressing, get ready. anyways, thanks for all the support on this and all your wonderful comments! i'm no longer on writers block and i have some great inspiration, thanks so much!!