ALL ACCESS

Chapter 9

The last couple of weeks were tumultuous at best. Whisper to the Thunder got more bad than good reviews in the papers, and Chris was livid. Lamps, glasses, and even television sets were broken by his fits of rage. Every newspaper and magazine article that he read brought the beast out. Day to day living with him was a nightmare, but I was too afraid to leave. He said he needed me. The drugs he took made him paranoid, and he'd threatened and complained about everything and everyone. Paul and the band tried to hide the bad articles from him, but Chris always managed to get his hands on them. I told him he shouldn't worry about what the critics write because Flux's fans loved the new music.

And, how could they not? James' guitar work on it was phenomenal. Chris' singing was otherworldly. Derrick and Nick's bass playing and drumming couldn't get any tighter; if it did they'd squeak. When the band wasn't messed up, the shows were magical and filled with unbridled energy. It was written on the fan's faces as they clapped and shouted out their excitement. From the side of the stage, it was wondrous to witness. Jimmy Page, the guitarist from Led Zeppelin remarked once to a reporter that music was "Dynamic. Light and shade, whisper to the thunder - sort of invite you in, sort of intoxicate you." Mr. Page was right on. This is one of many reasons why I love music and bands. To watch the give and take of energy; to see the band work their spellbinding magic over the audience. To belong - all of us – to be enchanted, captivated, blissfully transported some place magical to a little place somewhere left of heaven - to be home.

Flux was like that on the last tour, and at the beginning of this one, but the last few shows...I agreed with the reviewers who tore the band apart. Especially regarding Chris' voice, which wasn't up to par. I never told him that unless I wanted to receive a cuff upside the face. Instead I tried to build up his bruised ego, and it wasn't easy. Though the drugs, booze, and kinky sex seem to make him feel better.

It's all anyone on the tour seemed to do. The guys hit the stage and we girls stand to the side and watch. When the show was over, Chris was done with the night, and we went back to the hotel. We lived a cloistered life. Chris didn't want me out and about, his paranoia and jealousy issues were at an all-time high. He was not sharing me with anyone. I hadn't hung out with Jules or Lisa since the beginning of the tour. Not that it mattered, because none of us partied together anymore; everyone did their own thing. This tour was so different from the last one. It had been party central on the Feel the Heat, tour, and on this tour...well, there was no thunder to be heard, just an indifferent whisper. The mood, stagnant.

Honestly, I'm not even sure how the band kept it together most nights on stage. Derrick got drunk as a skunk while he played, or he was flying high on something, Nick, normally reserved, ran around the stage as though the hounds of hell are on his tail. Chris was a mixed bag of everything; the only one that held it together and stayed straight, for the most part, was James. In fact, he was the only band member the critics didn't bad-mouth, and that didn't get by Chris. He had plenty of issues with James; whenever Chris had a notion to actually do some work, James was MIA. An idea for a song came to Chris and he wanted to go over it.

"Where the hell is he?" I watched him pace as he held the phone. "Bloody hell. If his hen wants to leave, he should let her go." In anger he banged the receiver down on the end table then placed it back at his ear. His brow twitched as he snarled into the phone. "She's fuckin' interfering. I don't care. Find him. Now."

I sat on the edge of the bed as he dialed up Nick. "Bastard is out making up with his wench. I 'av an idea for a song, grab yer guitar and come ov'r." Chris grabbed a beer out of the cooler and yanked the tab off. "Yeah, yeah see you in fifteen."

Chris leaned over the table and snorted some of the lines he'd cut earlier. It was going to be that kind of night, I could tell. Chris turned to look at me, sniffing and wiping his nose. A corner of his lip lifted, in sneer or smirk I wasn't a hundred percent sure, though it didn't really matter, the beast lurked within and it was only a matter of time before it pounced. My heart hammered a staccato beat as I chewed my bottom lip and twisted the fringe on my vest as he sauntered towards me.