Rock and Roll Hell

All Bad Things

Blinking awake, I was met with a sight that sent a jolt through me. Eric lay sprawled on top of me, his head lolling against my shoulder, a damp patch blooming on my sleeve. How long had he been there? The air felt thick, and a surge of claustrophobia prickled at my skin.

Gently, I brushed his hair aside, studying his slack features. Exhaustion, not malice, etched lines on his face. With a sigh, I nudged him to the side of the bunk, tucking the covers around him. The silence after his slumbering form settled was deafening. Where was Paul?

I emerged from the cramped bedroom, blinking in the dim bus lights. Paul sat by the window, a steaming mug cradled in his hands.

"There you are! Morning!" he greeted, a smile spreading across his face. But it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Good morning," I mumbled, the awkwardness hanging heavy in the air. "About Eric..."

"He crashed hard," Paul interrupted, his voice strained. "Said he was too wiped to make it to his own bunk."

"Right," I managed, the damp patch on my sleeve suddenly a beacon of his transgression. "He, uh, seems like a real sleeper."

Paul chuckled, but the sound lacked its usual warmth. "Yeah, three cups of coffee before dawn might have something to do with it."

An uncomfortable silence descended again, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the engine. "We should be arriving in Chattanooga soon," Paul finally said, his voice neutral. "Maybe an hour?"

Relief washed over me. "Good. I should probably change out of these jammies."

"Suitcases are by the bed," Paul offered, his gaze fixed out the window.

I retreated back to the cramped quarters, the air thick with unspoken tension. Dressing quickly, I willed Eric to stay unconscious. Thankfully, silence reigned on the other side of the bunk.

Emerging once more, I slid into the seat beside Paul, seeking comfort in his presence. He glanced over, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before offering a reassuring squeeze to my shoulder.

"This is the worst part, you know," Paul muttered, his voice low. "The waiting. All these nerves building the closer you get."

"I can only imagine," I replied, squeezing his arm gently.

"I don't know if I've said this enough," he began, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "but I'm damn glad you're here, Angie."

A warmth bloomed in my chest. "Me too, Paul," I murmured, leaning closer. The bus rumbled on, carrying us not just towards the next gig, but perhaps towards a future neither of us dared to speak of just yet.

______________________________________

The Chattanooga skyline finally came into view, a welcome sight after a long and cramped journey. Eric, miraculously subdued after his coffee-fueled rampage, finally stirred awake. Paul and I snagged our suitcases and headed for the hotel entrance, anticipation buzzing in the air.

As we stepped into the lobby, a booming voice cut through the chatter. "Angela!"

Gene Simmons, his larger-than-life persona filling the room, grinned at me from across the lobby. Beside him, a lanky figure with a shock of big hair leaned against the counter, a bored expression masking whatever mischief might be brewing behind his eyes. This must be Vinnie Vincent, the new guitarist.

"Hey Gene!" I called back, a smile tugging at my lips. It had been a while, but the rock and roll world was a small place, and familiar faces, even those adorned with outrageous makeup, were easy to recognize.

Gene engulfed me in a bear hug, his deep voice a rumble in my ear. "Damn, woman! It's been too long!"

"Good to see you again, Angela," Vinnie mumbled, a slight slur to his words. I gave him a cautious nod, unsure of the newcomer's temperament.

Paul joined us, his arm casually draped around my waist. We exchanged greetings, catching up on lost time. A comfortable silence settled between us, broken only by the murmur of conversation and the occasional clinking of glasses at the bar.

Suddenly, Gene leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Look, here come the newbies!" He gestured towards the lobby doors, his eyes glinting with mischief.

The hotel doors swung open, and Mötley Crüe sauntered in, a rock and roll hurricane blowing through the lobby. My breath hitched as my gaze collided with Nikki Sixx's. Time seemed to warp, the greetings and chatter around us fading into a dull roar. His eyes held a flicker of surprise, then something deeper – a flicker of recognition that sent a jolt through me.

"Hey, look! It's KISS. Act cool!" Vince barked at his bandmates, who instantly straightened up, their rockstar swagger momentarily subdued.

"Hey guys, nice to see ya-" Nikki started, then cut himself off abruptly. "Angela?" His voice was a low growl, sending another tremor through me.

Eric nudged me with a goofy grin. "Whoa! You know these dudes? Could you introduce me?" he winked.

Ignoring him, I forced a smile at Nikki. But Paul, ever perceptive, picked up on my discomfort. His hand tightened around my waist, a silent question in his gaze.

"Alright, well, we can catch up later," Paul interjected smoothly. "Ang and I are gonna go unpack and settle in."

Nikki's expression hardened, a flash of jealousy flickering across his face before it was masked by a sardonic smirk.

Gene sauntered over, his signature bass slung over his shoulder, and tossed room keys to Paul and me. "Your havens for the next few days," he rumbled, his voice laced with amusement.

With a curt nod, we escaped the awkward reunion, retreating into the relative safety of the elevator.

"I didn't know you knew Mötley Crüe," Paul remarked, his voice laced with surprise.

"Yeah, sort of," I mumbled, the weight of the past settling on my shoulders.

Once in our room, Paul announced he was taking a shower to dry his hair before the show. Alone, I tossed my bags on the bed, the dream of the past replaying in my mind with agonizing clarity. It had ripped open a part of me I thought I'd sealed shut – the emptiness that had haunted me since Nikki.

Love wasn't a necessity, I told myself fiercely. But the fluttering in my stomach whenever I was around him was undeniable. And Paul... Paul was different. He was a constant, a safe harbor in the stormy seas of my life. He was like a brother, someone I could confide in, with one glaring exception – Nikki.

Shame coiled around me. Paul deserved my honesty. But could I risk losing the one person who had always been there for me? As I stared out the window, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of emotions, I knew I had a decision to make. And tonight, amidst the roar of the crowd and the chaos of the tour, that decision might very well be made for me.