||24 Karat Gold|| Lindsey Buckingham & Stevie Nicks

5.

Lindsey finally took his first steps into his hotel suite after the first show of the tour. He shut the door with his back while his eyes scanned the room, greeted with his luggage already sitting in the middle of the living area. The perks of being in such a high profile band. 

He remained with his back propped up against the door for a moment, his head resting against it's wooden frame with his face aimed up at the ceiling, his eyes closing from the weariness he was experiencing. He was so angry, so disappointed and so infuriated with the behaviour from a particular individual. He had been too slow, for he should have known she would have tried to pull some kind of stunt to get her own back after his unexpected setlist change. This stunt was on a completely new level, though. The consequences of her action could be sublime and it was only a matter of time before reviews of the concert reached newspapers, photographs soon to be uploaded to social media and the whole Fleetwood Mac and classic rock fan base would have their eyes glued to images of himself and his former lover, as she was often described, in a lip-smacking embrace. 

Just what was she thinking?! 

Lindsey shook his head, feeling the buzz of his mobile against the front of his thigh. He sighed, pulling it out of his pocket to see his wife's name on the screen. An instant feeling of dread soared through his veins, he hadn't enough time to even process what had happened, nevermind being able to explain to his wife exactly why he had allowed Stevie to even stand that close to his body, nevermind having her taste the saltiness of his skin with her mouth. He sighed out loudly, sitting down on the sofa, his head in his hand while he answered his phone with the other. 

"Good evening, honey." he spoke, his eyes closed as he summed up the courage to bring up the subject. 

"Well, how was it? Did everything go as planned?" she spoke, excitement in her voice and he was unsure if he was being led into a false sense of security before a bust up if she had seen the photos that were most likely swarming around online by now. He had such a hard time trying to convince her that he would be just fine on this tour without her presence. He could most definitely use her presence at the side of the stage on this tour, for he knew Nicks would not have pulled that move if she was here, almost as though his wife was a weapon, a barrier. 

"It was... different, for a variety of reasons. Lots of things happened that should have...and, i guess, um... there was certain things that should have been halted. Unexpected song changes, an encore-" 

"And a kiss." 

The sound of her voice was haunting, his heart felt as though it was going to burst out of his chest and he was unsure if he should even muster up an excuse. Would she even believe it?

"Are you there, dear?" 

The sarcasm oozed from her tone of voice and he knew that he most definitely needed to explain himself. 

"This is going to sound ridiculous, I know but this is the kind of bullshit I'm having to deal with on this tour and it's only day one, so please let me finish before you make your final thought on the situation. I haven't seen the pictures that I can imagine are all over the internet right now but we did not kiss. I can quite honestly believe that it looked like a kiss...but it wasn't, especially on my part. I swear to you, on our kids lives, on everything I love and adore. We. Did. Not. Kiss... she kissed me on the cheek, as close to my mouth as she could get to make it appear as though it was a full embrace and the whole thing caught me off guard." he paused for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose before continuing, this whole situation disgusted him and it was the last thing he wanted to deal with after such a long night. He was still in his stage clothes, the stickiness of his skin sticking to his denim clad legs and he was really craving something greasy, perhaps a pizza and a beer.

"She's become some kind of control freak, it's all about scoring points, simply because I added in an unexpected song to the set and so, she felt she had to take it one step further, to cause even more drama. But I can tell you right now, she has gone too fucking far, mark my words. To jeopardize my family life, my career, my morals? She doesn't get to control those aspects of my life. I am just as angry as you are about her behaviour and I want absolutely nothing to do with her and her twisted games." 

The fury in his voice must have shone through, for his wife was sympathetic, his whole demeanour relaxing as she agreed with everything he said. 

"Maybe I should join you for a few shows, to put her in her place. To show her that you belong to me. Or maybe I should just phone her and tell her to keep her hands off my man." 

Lindsey smirked at the possessiveness, "Honey, I really don't want you to be dragged up in her childish behaviour. You have your business to attend to, I don't want to pull you away from your upcoming events. I can handle it." 

"I love you, Lindsey. Dedicate Bleed to Love Her to me at your next show, we all know how much she hates your dedications." 

Lindsey chuckled, nodding silently. 

He spent another thirty or so minutes on the phone, the sound of her voice eased the drama from the show to a point that he had forgotten the anger he had felt throughout the night. This was what he needed in his life, someone who could ground him, to keep him from falling into the past, someone he could open up to about the frustrations of having to work with an absolute diva of a woman who would forever cause him some kind of grief.

Once he had finished his conversation and he felt secure in the knowledge that his wife wasn't filing for divorce after seeing that picture, he got right onto room service, ordering that pizza he had been longing for. Walking around his suite he turned on lamps, the TV and he had just pulled his t-shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor. He was hoping to get a quick shower before room service came knocking on his door. He walked into the bathroom, unbuckling his belt before turning the walk in shower on when a knock filled his ears. 

"Fuck, that was quick." he muttered, walking out of the bathroom to reach for the door of his hotel suite, his jeans now loose around his hips without the tightness of his belt holding them up. His chest tightened up as he held the door open, feeling exposed as he stood in only his denim jeans. 

"Oh, wait a minute. Where's the paparazzi, have you got them hiding around the corner of the corridor? For they'd sure as hell get a kick out of this, you standing at my hotel room door... I'm being serious now, what the fuck are you doing here?" His heart rate had started to increase as soon as his blue eyes met brown... but he was most definitely not going to make his visitor aware of that.