Petty Little Beatles

Act III: Scene iv

Tom smiled at his band-mates. God, it felt good to be back. They had just arrived at their temporary housing, and the smell wrinkled Tom's nose. Still, it felt good to see the familiar and friendly faces of his band-mates. He had missed them in the short weeks he had spent away. Mike, in particular, had been much eager to see him to tell him of the birth of his daughter. Tom had smiled and they had shared amusing stories of their children. When silence had fallen upon them, it was not unwelcomed as all the men were worn out. Howie Epstein, their newest bass player since Ron Blair's departure, had had been a man Tom had become familiar with. Howie had lit a cigarette in the hotel room, and, soon, others joined his. Tom sat on one of the beds, his hair messy from fussing, with a cigarette between his lips. On the outside he was quiet. Inside, he was battling worried thoughts. He let them pass easily as he went through half a pack. He was still awake when he somehow managed to stub out the cigarette, long after the room had grown dark and the orange ember-end had been the only light present. His mind was most awake...

Kay is fine, alright...No, we are not going through this again. I worked this out once, and if it comes to it, I'll work it out again...It'll be easy...God, I hope...

She is fine, alright? I've worked this out...I'm not going out with Stevie - wouldn't even think of it...Kay is fine. The boys are fine...

Is she fine? Yes, she is. She is alright, fine, and well. She is mine, I am hers...I love her...

He must have fallen asleep, sometime after, as his next conscious memory was the bright rays of sunlight poking through the hotel window; or, perhaps, he had not slept at all, and so that was why the light stabbed at his eyes. He blinked, let the water in his eyes draw in, and exhaled his first yawn. He could hear his friends do the same as he sat up.

Mike had the worst bedhead he had ever seen. His hair was fuzzed, and Tom chuckled. Mike would have one hell of a time trying to get his hair fixed up for the show.

"What?" Mike asked him.

Tom laughed and pointed to his own hair.

Mike sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, yeah..." In the bed next to his, Benmont grumbled something incoherently.

Tom yawned again. The sun took another bite of his eyes, and he resisted the urge to lean back against the pillows, pull the blankets around him, and close his eyes...

He blinked and thought he could hear some fellow grumbling from the room next door. Tom took the fastest shower of his life, due to mainly his band-mates' impatience (not that Tom didn't have any of that himself). He dressed and made his way over to the door conjoining the two rooms. As soon as he had opened the door, the grumble had decreased to a mutter, and he looked in to see Stan and Ron in some heated argument while Jimmy Iovine, their producer, watched silently.

"Hey, break it up, break it up. It's too damn early for this," Tom said.

Stan looked at him and nodded. "Yeah, you know what, Tom's right. Just because Howie smoked my last cig-"

Tom threw a pack at him. "There, have a sealed pack of cigarettes, Stanley." He rolled his eyes and turned to his producer. "Where are we playing tonight?"

Jimmy rubbed at his eyes. "Uh...Detroit."

"Well, we're in the heart of it, alright," Stan muttered.

Ron looked at the window at the many buildings. "So...which one of these is the venue?"

"We'll get there, I know exactly where it is," their producer said in a final manner.

Tom nodded and returned to the other room.

Ben was peeling a banana, and he looked up when Tom entered. "Isn't Stevie supposed to be at the show tonight?"

Tom smiled. "Yeah, for a few songs." He thought back to what Kay had said to him, and he almost chuckled. He had no interest in Stevie in that sense, and, even if he did, it would be short-lived with no consequences. He could not simply leave Kay and the boys for Stevie, and he would not. It was a ridiculous thought that he could not stand to think. It passed by quickly.

Ben looked pleased at his response and simply nodded.

Tom grinned. "You like her, don't you?"

Ben rolled his eyes.

He elbowed his side, to which Benmont scowled. "Ben, I know you do." Tom was acting like a schoolboy, purposely attempting to infuriate Ben, even as he was certain he saw a small smile on the other man's face.

Benmont was interrupted in answering as there was a sudden boom.

Tom jumped and glanced over to see Stan had knocked over the lamp, somehow.

"I know you're the tallest in the band, but that's on you," Tom joked. He could hear Mike chuckle into his coffee.

That night, as Tom and the boys made their way on stage, he had a strange emotion. He could not identify it and brushed it off as nerves, though he could feel that stupid feeling of doubt return. His nerve was stronger, and he smiled at the crowd:

"Hello. This looks like a good one, doesn't it Stanley?"

Stan hit the drum and cymbals, to which quite a few cheers were heard.

"That's what I thought." Tom smiled and nodded at what looked like the crowd, but was really a signal for Mike to start the first song, and he did.

A few songs later, and Tom was still saying, "Thank you, thank you." He was grinning. "We'd like to bring out a special guest: Ms. Stevie Nicks."

The crowd was cheering louder than before. Beside him, Stevie smiled and waved. Somebody whistled.

"Alright, alright, Stevie and I are going to do a few songs for you - you like that?" Tom smiled at the ongoing applause, and he counted off.

It was the shortest few songs he had experienced. He got all the notes correct, Stevie's harmony was excellent, but he was feeling something.

Emotions were something else.

After the show, he was in a dozy daze, and he fell asleep quickly. The next day, the band checked out early, headed to another hotel, another gig. That's how the next shows went, all up until the day he returned to Kay and the boys.

He did miss them, even and especially on the road. Still, he felt another emotion. Kay had been uneasy, and he was unsure why. She seemed...he did not know what to call it. She was still Kay, but something had changed between them.

He could only hope that his mere hope would be enough.