(Don't) Leave Me Behind

Part 12

Lindsey struggled. He knew the song so well, but his fingers didn't cooperate and he was plucking the wrong string or mixing up chords, occasionally even doing both at once. He cursed loudly, willing himself to concentrate, but before he could start again, he was stopped.

"Clearly, this isn't going to work out."

"No, I can do it. Give me one more chance." Lindsey asked, but the band he was auditioning for, well, two of its members, shook their heads.

"You've been torturing our ears for the past twenty minutes. I think, that's enough. Sorry." One said, although he didn't sound apologetic at all.

Swearing under his breath, Lindsey placed his guitar back in the case and got up, leaving without a goodbye. It wouldn't be as frustrating as it was if he had tried for the first time, but he'd been auditioning to play guitar in several bands and the answer had consistently been a no. He knew he wasn't doing his best, but he couldn't do anything about it either. He couldn't focus on anything besides the fact that it had already been over a month since Stevie left him. He wasn't dealing with the breakup very well; he was hardly sleeping, he spent most of his nights at one pub or another, playing a few songs in exchange for alcohol, he didn't eat much and if he wasn't able to pay the rent for the month, he'd be kicked out and he'd be homeless.

Stevie, on the other hand, seemed to be doing just fine. Fleetwood Mac played their first show since Stevie joined the band a week ago and she'd been the talk of the town. Lindsey couldn't escape it, everywhere he went, somebody had to be talking about her. It was a relatively small gig they played, sort of an experiment to see what the fans thought of the newest addition. Lindsey wanted to see her, so he went. Keeping his head down for the most part, shades resting on the bridge of his nose the whole time, Lindsey watched Stevie be the star he had always known her to be. If he managed not to see the rest of the band, he was happy for her. Then she'd get too close to Rick, they'd openly flirt with each other on stage, she'd touch him and he'd smile back at her, winking, and Lindsey's blood boiled. He couldn't forgive Stevie for betraying him, that still hurt, but... with a heavy sigh, he had to admit to himself that it was mostly his fault. Stevie didn't want to join Fleetwood Mac, she told him no over and over again, yet, he made the decision for her. When Mick called, asking for Stevie, Lindsey chose for her. He gave her to that band, he lost her to it.

What hit Lindsey the hardest was when Stevie introduced a song of her own, even though Fleetwood Mac hadn't released new music with her yet. It's called Landslide, she said and sang the most beautiful song Lindsey had ever heard. Something told him it was about him, he knew it had to be, but when it ended and Stevie got emotional, it was Rick who embraced her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, before the band disappeared backstage.

"You're not playing in that state." The owner of the pub, Lindsey frequently visited, told him. "You're smashed."

"Please, Jack." Lindsey leaned against the bar, hiccuping. "I really need the money. I won't ask for a drink, just let me play a few songs and give me some money. I haven't eaten, the rent-"

"You can barely stand up straight, Lindsey." Jack shook his head. "You need to sober up. And I don't mean just now. You're a mess more often than not."

"No, I-"

"I'm sorry, Lindsey. I can't let you get up there. You're only going to make fool out of yourself."

Puffing, Lindsey sat down on one of the stools, his head in his hands. He then heard someone sitting to his right address him. 

"He's right, you know." The woman said, blowing out a cloud of smoke. 

"Huh? What do you know?" He scoffed, not even glancing at her. 

"Well, I sure know this isn't the way to get Stevie back."

That certainly got Lindsey's attention. Straightening up, Lindsey faced the blonde sitting beside him. "How do you- What?"

"You're Lindsey, aren't you? We've met by the way." Christine added, calm as ever. "Once."

The mention of Stevie seemed to have sobered Lindsey up. Taking a good look at the woman, Lindsey vaguely recognized her to be Christine McVie from Fleetwood Mac. They met once in passing and then he obviously saw her performing with the band.

"What are you doing here?"

"That's what you want to know?" Christine raised an eyebrow at him, stubbing out her cigarette. "I like to escape the studio and have a glass of wine in peace sometimes if you really must know."

"Does Stevie talk about me?" Was Lindsey's second question.

"No, she doesn't. She ignores any mention of you. I try to open her eyes, but she doesn't seem like she wants to see."

"Open her- what are you even talking about?" Lindsey frowned, confused.

Giving an exasperated sigh, Christine signaled for another glass. "Stevie's hurt. You treated her like shit and don't deny it. She shouldn't have slept with Rick, that's totally on her, but the rest is your fault." Seeing Lindsey opening his mouth to say something, she silenced him, as she continued. "Listen. If you don't clean up your act, you're going to lose her for good. Right now, Rick is a knight in shining armor in her eyes, since she's got you to compare him with. He treats her right, like you should have. I've got to know Stevie pretty well and if you allow her more time in Rick's arms, she's going to start thinking she's in love with him." Finishing her newly presented glass of wine in one go, Christine put it back on the bar top. She reached in her purse and paid, then took out a few more bills and reached for Lindsey's hand, putting the money in his palm. 

"Don't drink it away." She patted him on the back and left.