Portal to Hell

Three

It took till almost six that eve, according to Eastern Time, for Mishy to finally call the venue where Poison was playing that Night. The whole Time he was waiting for someone to tell him he'd a phone call, the poor bassist was ready to rip his hair out–and far more than just jokingly 'cuz he swore it made him hot. What really irked his nerves was that–due to having moved back to Florida a few months before they married in October of 1989–there wasn't any kinda Time difference, now that he'd done some mental math. Why on Earth it'd taken her twelve hours to do something so simple, he hadn't a clue, but he wasn't focusing on that at the moment 'cuz he'd more important things to worry about.

Bobby couldn't help heaving a sigh of relief when he heard the voice of his two-Year-old son, which was Light and Airy with giggles. While he only heard about half of what Zach told him in regards to what he'd learned at daycare that Day, he was still able to have a decent conversation with him. Of course, that Ended with his son asking when he'd be home 'cuz he loved and missed him so much when he was gone like this.

"It's still gonna be a while yet, buddy," the bassist sighed, shifting the receiver from one ear to the other. "Chu know Daddy's not gonna be near home and forget to see chu for at least a little while."

"But me miss chu, Daddy!" It was pretty obvious the boy was ready to burst into tears.

"I know, I know–Daddy misses chu and Mama, too," he told him. Even though he and his wife fought more often than not these Days, he didn't want a child who wouldn't understand to think he actually hated her when he really didn't.

"Chu gosta see me soon," Zach whimpered, and there wasn't a doubt in his mind he was pouting adorably.

"Next Time I'm close to home, I'll come get chu and Mama both, 'pessally if it's one of my Days off where we can go out for Ice cream or something," he chuckled.

"Yays! Want it to be soooon!"

Moments later, Bobby heard some kinda shuffling before he heard his estranged wife's voice again, and he was hard-pressed to bite back a growl for some odd reason. As she told him she needed to get their son fed and ready for bed, he chalked it up to all the fighting they'd been doing lately, which was over everything from sex–or rather, a lack thereof–to what Color their bedroom should be repainted. He told her they'd talk again when he could manage to call, then the line once again went dead before he could even think about whether to tell her he still loved her or not.

Just like he'd done that morn, the bassist slammed the receiver back down into its cradle, now ready to fight just about anybody that so much as looked at him wrong. He didn't know what the hell'd come over him, but it felt like any Emotional Control he'd spent all of his twenty-nine Years working on had gone right out the window. Maybe it was just all the stress he was under, what with his pending divorce combined with replacing a crucial band member, recording a new album, and hitting the road again.

As Bobby headed back to his and Richie's bus to grab something he'd forgotten earlier, the rest of the band stared after him. They'd already noticed the sudden Change in his Emotions, which he'd normally take great care to hide from them anytime something bothered him. Rikki was normally the most Fearless of them, Bret usually knowing how to handle him the best when he was upset, but even they didn't wanna go anywhere near him. It actually seemed like they were more than a bit afraid of him, like they Feared just saying his name'd set him off and result in them eating their teeth for dinner. That resulted in the pair of blondes sharing a look with each other, then with their last remaining bandmate, all wondering what they could do.

Over the course of the next month or so, even more freaky shit than the bassist simply having more of an attitude problem started to occur on a fairly regular basis. Richie was so freaked by some of the shit that was happening on the brunettes' bus that he'd started sleeping on Bret's and Rikki's couch since he'd nowhere else he could sleep. In fact, he wouldn't go within six feet of the bus he was supposed to be on, whether said bassist was on it or in whatever venue they were supposed to be playing.