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    Lee Wilson
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
This story is an original work of gay and bisexual fiction. None of the people or events are real. While some of the town names used may be real, any other geographic references (school, events) are purely fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is completely coincidental. This story depicts sexual situations between both young men, a young woman and a young man and a boy. If reading this is illegal where you reside, or you are not at least 18 years of age, you are reading at your own risk. This work is the property of the author, Lee R Wilson, and shall not be reproduced and/or re-posted without his permission.

Don't Blame The Band - 15. Recovery and Five Fun-filled Days in Newark, NJ

Contains a couple homophobic slurs. As usual, used to show the character’s lack of character.

Saturday November 26

Terrance and Corrine stop by to see Pete late in the morning. They visit for a little while and then scare up Dr. Klaus.

"Good morning doctor."

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Daggett. How are you today."

"Pretty good. Pete's continuing to improve, that is the most important factor at the moment."

"Very true Terrance. I suppose you'd like another official update?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

"Not at all Corrine. As you saw, Pete is improving very quickly. All his vitals have been excellent, we'll need to get him up walking more, the nurses have that order today, and he'll need a stress test before any decision can be made about releasing him. But if all goes well, I'd say Tuesday is a best case scenario. Regardless of when it is, he'll need to remain somewhat inactive, no strenuous exercizes and the like. He'll likely be on pain killers for a little while, but I understand he handled Percocet well for his last injuries, we'll probably continue with that regimen for a few days at home then some extra-strength Acetaminophen. I don't like using the more powerful ones for too long, so I try to wean my patients off them as soon as possible."

"Yes, he has a pretty high pain threshhold. I'd be surprised if he used the hard stuff much at all."

"Yes, he usually asks for Tylenol, and if memory serves, he has fewer requests for Percocet day-to-day, three Thursday, two yesterday, and as far as I know, none yet today."

"That's good. As you may know, I have an active lawsuit against this hospital and a bit of a conflict with Pete being here for an extended period of time. But Tuesday should be OK. If things change, I'll need to discuss transferring him."

"Understood. Dr. Allison has made it abundantly clear about that situation. I'm realy sorry you're caught in difficult situation. I'll do whatever I can to ensure the speediest possible release. If I can get the stress test scheduled for tomoorow, and it goes well, Monday might be possible. Getting many procedures scheduled on a Sunday is difficult, unfortunately."

"We understand doctor, and appreciate all you've done for our son."

"Part of the job Corrine, even if the boss didn't let us know about the lawsuit, I try to do the best for my patients."

"Thanks Dr. Klaus. We'll see you later."

Dr. Klaus decides to inform the boss of the latest discussions.

"Dr. Allison."

"Yes, Klaus."

"I just spoke with the Daggetts. As you expected, Mr. Daggett is anxious to not keep his son here any longer than necessary. Just a suggestion, but you may want to pressue Dr. Mason a little to get the stress test done tomorrow, that way we can unload the kid on Monday."

"I'd have him do it today, but there's already a backlog. Daggett is far from any imminent danger. Not the case for the other patients ahead of him. God knows how many more lawsuits we'd be hit with if we pushed a relatively healthy boy ahead of someone who really needs it, and that someone dies. I'd transfer the kid out of here today if that wasn't worse than waiting even one extra day. We'd be completely fucked if we released him too early and he started faltering. Fucking Chun. Misses three bleeders, four bone fragments, thank God the Daggetts only think it’s one. And on top of that, a fucking surgical sponge. So far we've been extremely lucky, I haven't heard any noise about Daggett suing us about his son. That could cost us millions. He's been fair so far with the Lewis case, but a suit about his son? No fucking way he'd let us settle that. A jury hears everything bad, we're probably talking 8 figures."

"Ouch. Obviously I'll do anything I can to speed things up, within reason. But I won't release him if I'm not comfortable that he's out of the woods."

"I'll call Mason now, and get him in here first thing tomorrow morning, and make him review the results immediately. With any luck we can get the kid home tomorrow. The longer he stays, the more risk we face."

"OK, I have to get back to my patients. Talk to you later."

"Fine. Give me a report on Daggett when you're leaving for the day, a phone call will be OK if it's positive."

"Sure thing. Talk to you later."

After leaving the hospital, Terrance drops Corrine off at the art museum to kill some time and heads to the office to review the paperwork one more time before running it to the courthouse before they shut down at 3. Plenty of time. Then maybe an early dinner in the Ironbound section. Dr. Klaus gives the boss good news at the end of his day. Pete hasn't requested a perc at all today, all other signs look good as long as Mason agrees after the stress test tomorrow, it got scheduled for 8 AM, Pete should be out of there tomorrow, before any shit can hit the fan. Unfortunately, neither of them will know until Monday that three new lawsuits are about to smack them straight in the face. It’s a powerful fan.

Sunday November 27

God, why'd they have to schedule things so fucking early on a Sunday morning. I don't remember the last time I was up at 8:00 on a Sunday. I'm barely awake and they want me to take a stress test?

"Good morning Mr. Daggett. I'm Dr. Mason, staff cardiologist. Are we ready?"

"I don't know about we, but I'm wishing this was a couple hours later."

"I hear you. I'd rather not be here at all today. But, sorry, strict orders from the top. If the test goes well, we're shipping you home this afternoon."

"Did you say home? Not, like to another hospital close to home?"

"Correct, home. Your own bed, mom's cooking, feet up watching sports, maybe hang out with your girlfriend. I assume you're not married yet at 17?"

"Not married, but in a serious relationship."

"Well, tell her to take it easy on you for a while."

He seems like an OK guy.

"Him."

"Sorry?"

"I'll need to tell him to take it easy."

"Oh, well, um, yes. Let's get you tested."

Maybe an OK guy, but I think he's hoping he won't need to touch me during the test. He didn't step away, but I definitely caught a little backward lean. After the test, Mason goes to Allison's office.

"Shouldn't you be checking Daggett's results?"

"I gave them a quick once over. I need to get him out of here, I can't stand to be around him."

"We can't rush his case, his father's suing us for an incorrect procedure. And why can't you stand to be around him? He seems like a fairly nice kid."

"No 'L.'"

"Noel? Christmas? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Not fairly nice, fairy nice, He's a fucking queer. He told me he had a boyfriend."

"Sorry. Fucking deal with it for a couple more hours. What if he's not 100% ready to go home, and we send him home? Well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be you. If I need a scapegoat, you'd be handing me your head on a silver platter. Understand?"

(Quietly) "Yeah."

"UNDERSTAND?"

"Yes, sir."

"Fine, get to work on his report. I don't think I can stand to be around YOU right now."

Allison is wondering how he can get Mason fired. 'Fairy' nice? I'd take a whole staff of gay doctors rather than have one homophobe on my staff. Great, I can't even hope he fucks up, that'll cost the hospital millions and probably cost me my job. I'll find a way to dump him. God, I'm so fucking mad right now.

"Hello?"

"Hi Charles."

"Hi dad. Why are you calling? Aren't you usually too busy at work?"

"Usually. I just had a disturbing conversation with one of my staff and I needed to hear your voice."

"Wow, thanks. But how are the two related?"

"He called one of his patients 'fairy' nice."

"Oh, God. You have to stop freaking out about things like that. If I got upset every time someone caled me a queer, fairy, or a worse 'f' word, I'm sure I'd have an ulcer."

"I guess. But I don't know. Every time I hear something like that, I think how I'd feel if it was you they disparaged, and it just pisses me off to no end."

"Dad. I appreciate all the support you and mom have given me since I came out to you both in the summer, but those aren't battles you need to fight."

"I know, I just want to protect my teen-aged son from a world of hurt."

"You'd have to protect me from the rest of the world, too. And, I'm not willing to be completely isolated at 14. I have friends that don't care. I'm good."

"I know. And you've told me this a thousand times. OK, I have to get back to work. It was good hearing your voice, anyway. I love you Charles."

"You hear my voice every day, dad. Don't make it sound like you're never around. I love you, too. Bye."

Fuming to himself, Mason goes over Pete's test results. Even though he's not at the top of his game, he's lucky there are no bad things to miss. But Allison got pissed off at him faster than a rocket sled in a quarter mile race. He hopes that doesn't impact him down the road. Anyway, time to get the faggot released.

Pete's parents are so glad he's home with essentially a clean bill of health. He was given six pages of instructions, but nothing terrible. The hardest thing he has to do is find a local cardiologist. Almost everything else is things he can't do.

"How would you feel about a houseful of visitors, Pete?"

"What's a houseful, mom? I'm supposed to rest."

"I was thinking your closest friends, brother and future sister-in-law, maybe the band."

"I don't know. That's like a dozen people."

"They wouldn't have to stay long. We'll order Chinese take-out, and open a shitload of fortune cookies. You wouldn't have to do anything except sit around and enjoy their company."

"Sure, I guess it's OK."

"Good, because I invited everybody when the hospital called to tell us you were being released."

"Why did I not figure that out? I must be slipping."

Corrine got the OK from Pete mere minutes before people started showing up. The four Romano's were first. Cathy also brought Pete’s friend Jim. Good for them, they’re still together. Tyler and his mom showed up next. They were all the closest. Ant was next. Then the band started trickling in. Eddie and David came with a couple girls they've been hanging out with that come to almost all the shows. Rich brought Melanie, Michelle's paralegal; apparently they've become quite inseparable. Gabe was the only band member unattached. Terry and Marcy were there, and also, Michelle and Anton showed up.

My other in-town friend Andy came solo. He has a girlfriend but he said she didn’t feel comfortable coming when Andy told her how crowded it would be. That and I’ve never met her. Andy’s tried to introduce us, even a couple times at our shows, but she avoids me. I’m guessing she’s uncomfortable with my being gay. I just let it slide.

Anyway, I tried to count them all, but I lost track so many times, I just figured, fuck it. Call it around 25 and enjoy being home. I don't think we've ever had that many people in our house before.

The Chinese restaurant had to send three people with all the food. Dad gave them a pretty nice tip, but then he usually does tip well. I started to fade after about an hour and a half with the crowd, excused myself and went to lie down. Ant came with me, for the only reason to simply be with me. Being with Ant was the best part of coming home. I tried to avoid it, but thinking about how he'd feel if the bullet was just a little off, and I was gone, depressed the shit out of me. But Ant was his usual positive self. 'That didn't happen' and similar statements. I finally fell asleep after an additional hour with just him. We only kissed and talked, and he sat there the entire two hours I slept. God, I can't believe how much I love him.

Monday November 28

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Something wrong Dr. Allison?"

"Yes, but nothing you need to be concerned with."

"OK, I heard you scream and got scared."

"Thanks Bridgette, I'll be OK.

Allison can't believe it. Not one, not two, but three more lawsuits from Daggett. Subpeonas for four sets of medical records. Oh, I am so screwed if any of these have merit. Well, for sure I know the Daggett case does. Watkins? Oh, right. The kid we told his mom was dead. Both Jacksons. The kid we didn't know was dead so we told his mom he was alive. $1 million for Jackson, $2.5 million for Lewis, $5 million for Watkins, $10 million for Daggett. Fuck, even if we settle them all for half, that's over $9 million. Malpractice insurance maybe only covers Daggett and Lewis. Well, that helps some. Severe emotional trauma, diseminating false information, providing personal medical information to unauthorized recipients.

"Hello?"

"Weathers, this is Allison."

"Yes, Dr. Allison."

"You know why I'm calling?"

"Yes, Dr. Allison, I just got the paperwork now too."

"I need you to review it all ASAP and let me know where we stand legally on every one."

"Yes, sir. I've already started, working high to low. I'm not liking what I see in the Daggett case at all. If the rest of them are anywhere near as strong, well, I don't have to tell you sir."

"Can you have a first cut at an opinion by the end of the day?"

"I'll do my best, sir."

"Thanks Weathers. I'll need to rely on you and your legal staff heavily on this."

"Understood, sir."

Damn, how can someone who seems like such a nice guy be so ruthless? I guess just being a lawyer for plaintiffs all the time, you learn how to stick the knife in where it hurts the most.

Back to Pete's thoughts.

My don'ts list doesn't include singing, so even though I can't drive for a week, I'm still going to rehearsal with the guys tonight. Mom told me to take it easy and take a lot of breaks. I told her Ant won't give me any other choice. He'll be here shortly to pick me up. Dinner tonight was leftover Chinese food, surprise, surprise. Some of it was OK the day after, but some things just don't survive too well if they're not fresh. With the band, we're going to take it day by day. If Thursday rolls around and I think I can do the shows this weekend, we will. I'll have to sit down probably almost the whole show anyhow, but it will be good to get back at it right away.

Four weeks or so until a possible week-long recording session after Christmas isn't a long time. But I'm feeling a little better every day. If nothing else, the practice will help, even if I can't handle the shows. I'm also looking forward to four nights away with Ant. Alone; after recording, dinner, and getting back to the hotel. I have a cardiologist's appointment on the 22nd. With any luck he'll clear me for sexual activity. It's not like I had a heart attack. My heart is still healthy, just sufferring from shock after getting a couple slices in it due to the bone fragents.

Friday December 2

“Hello Garson’s. We’re back.”

It always feels so good to hear the cheers from the crowd when we get on stage. It’s like having a tiny little orgasm without the mess.

“It’s going to be a little different tonight, and probably for the next couple weeks. As I’m sure most of you are aware, I recently had another hospital stay.”

Boooooooo.

“Yeah, that sums it up pretty well. My doctor says I need to follow the advice of the song we’ll start out with in a few seconds, so I won’t be as active as you’re used to. But you’re here for the music, so if I’m sitting down for most of it, hopefully we’ll still sound just as good. Rich?”

Rich starts up ‘Take it Easy’ and we’re really back. I’m up and about a little, but stay seated almost the whole night. Didn’t want to tire myself out and give them half a show. We were two songs fewer than usual, but we planned that ahead of time. Can’t deprive our fans of ‘Free Bird.’

Monday December 5

Wow. I might have to have a talk with Tyler, Jim, or Andy. One of them somehow got my locker open. There had to have been 50 get well and welcome back cards in there. I packed them all up to bring home to read after school. I didn’t think I even KNEW 50 kids at school.

Turns out it was Andy. I forgot he had brought my homework for me a few times when I was sick for a week during my junior year. I gave him my locker combination when I had bronchitis in February.

I was right. I didn’t know 50 kids. Close though, there were 48 cards from students and 8 more from teachers or former teachers. 5 of the student cards had names I didn’t immediately recognize, but a quick look at last year’s yearbook proved them to really exist.

A few more showed up on Tuesday, all ‘welcome back’ in this case. I did get one from Lazarus of Bethany. Apparently Tyler was embracing his new nickname. Other than that, the next almost three weeks were rather run-of-the-mill, typical Pete Daggett weeks. Rehearsals, twice weekly make-out sessions with Ant, and weekend shows. We had another recording session on the 20th. Mick got us all squared away at the Hilton for the following week. The plan was to check-in Monday during an afternoon break, and spend four nights there, before checking out before our session on Friday. Friday was to be a short session so we wouldn’t have to miss our show Friday night. I’m hoping that Friday won’t be too tiring.

The biggest (best maybe?) thing to happen was my visit with the cardiologist on the 22nd. Green light for sexual activities. I was hoping for that so I had started wearing the patches the previous Monday. Friday and Saturday’s shows would be the last ones I’d be sitting down for. At least that was the plan. Friday after recording remains to be seen. I’ve been able to be more active and sit for shorter periods, but I figured why push things too hard? I’d be going to Ant’s Saturday night after the show. If it wasn’t Christmas eve, I would have spent the night. But getting home late, real late, was OK with me.

Saturday December 24

Oh my God, I don’t even remember the last time Ant and I made love. I was hard on and off all through the show trying not to think about it. Yeah, right. A 17-year-old boy not thinking about sex?

I’m allowed to drive again, so I follow Ant back to his house after the show. I feel like a kid who will be having sex for the first time. Anxious, excited, nervous, pick any similar emotion and I feel it.

“So, Pete. I was thinking. Maybe we should wait until New Year’s eve to have sex.”

“You’d better be kidding. If I had balls, they’d be the darkest shade of blue you’ve ever seen. I need you Ant.”

“Yeah, I’m kidding. I just wanted to see your reaction. It was priceless.”

“I’d tickle you for that, but that’s not the kind of foreplay I’m hoping for.”

After that, very little of what might have been heard in Ant’s room would pass as actual words. Aside from harder, faster, more, again, and a select few others, the next two hours were filled with grunts, groans, moans of ecstasy, and skin on skin slapping sounds.

Of course, the first sounds after that comment were the rustling of clothing being quickly removed. We had to break the kiss to get our shirts over our heads, but the rest of the undressing was done with us looking like twins conjoined at the lips. Once we were naked, we both reached for each other’s dick, fondling gently. Even though we were both pretty desperate for more, neither wanted the other to cum too quickly. Ant started to leak immediately, I knew I’d be on the receiving end first. Order didn’t matter to me, I needed Ant inside me so I was happy to oblige when he rolled us over on my back. Pushing my legs up toward my shoulders, Ant dove right for my ass. He alternated licking my anus and cock for a minute then paused to apply the lube. Once he started to enter me, I couldn’t wait for him to be slow. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled with all my might. Oh, the pleasurable pain. He was completely inside me in a fraction of a second. I started thrusting my hips. I didn’t want a long lovemaking session right now.

“Fuck me Ant. Take me.”

I didn’t need to ask him twice. After the collapsed lung incident, he never really went as hard and fast again, but it was hard enough. A few minutes of thrusting and he shoved himself in as deep as he could and started spewing inside of me. 4, 5, 6 spurts. God, keep going, Ant. I lost count and focus at 9. There may have been more, I was too far gone to know.

After a few minutes of cuddle time, Ant recovered enough to see I was still rock hard. He took my dick into his mouth and started gently sucking. I could tell he was putting lube in and around his ass. After a minute, he pushed my legs flat on his bed, and started lubing up my dick. He moved up above me and gently slid himself down over my dick. I had my fast and hard fuck, I was perfectly willing to let Ant set the pace this time.

He lifted and dropped so slowly it was almost like torture. I’d get so ready to cum, but then he’d hesitate a few seconds and the feeling subsided. Until his next up and down cycle, anyway. He seemed to have edged me in this fashion for an hour, but a quick glance at the clock confirmed it was less than 10 minutes. Ant finally started speeding up. Yesssss! Another 6 or 8 quick thrusts and I was exploding inside him. Ant exploded again shortly thereafter. His second orgasm reaching my face. I opened my mouth to try to catch the next volley, but alas, it fell short. I had to scoop it off the top of my chest to take advantage of the sweet taste of his nectar. And that was just the first session that night.

After we made love again, it was time for me to go. Terry and Marcy would be over tomorrow morning early enough that staying out past 2AM wasn’t a good idea. I reluctantly got dressed, kissed Ant a half dozen more times and left. My best Christmas eve. EVER.

Sunday December 25

Terry and Marcy show up at 11:00. Terry’s carrying a pretty large box. Marcy is carrying a bag with a few smaller presents in it. They’re here early because they’re going to Marcy’s parents for dinner and they live about 90 minutes away. I notice the big box has my name on it. I’m like a 5-year-old. I can’t imagine what it could be.

“Pete, can you wait at least until they have their coats off before reverting to pre-school?”

“Sorry, mom. I’m just way curious what it could be.”

“We’ll open the presents after brunch.”

I, again imitate a 5-year-old by pouting. Hey, it’s been a tough year, give me a break. I try to control my emotions, and am mostly successful. Mom set up an awesome spread for brunch. The obvious breakfast items, plus cleaned, peeled, deveined shrimp, cocktail sauce, a vegetable tray, a cheese tray. Food usually wins out over most things for a teen boy. I almost forgot about presents. Almost.

Parents are mean. They’re making me wait until last to open Terry and Marcy’s present. I mean the Lawrence Taylor jersey they got me was cool. The music store gift certificate as well. And I always need new clothes. But it was a big box. A really big box. I finally get to open it. It’s a brand new Saxophone. The one I had up until I got shot, I picked up used. It probably ended up in a pawn shop after the shooter and his two buddies walked away with it. I was not looking forward to borrowing one for the sessions this week. 'Running Out of Time' and ‘Eye Meets Eye’ both have sax solos. Now I won’t have to borrow one.

“It’s awesome. Thanks Terry and Marcy. With recording this week, your timing is perfect.”

“We figured you’d be a little upset about it being stolen.”

“I was. Can I open it now?”

“Why not? It’s yours. But you have to play us something.”

“That’s a deal Marcy.”

I open it carefully, I don’t want to ruin the box, even though I still have the stand for mine. No case, though. Wait, scratch that, it’s in a case inside the box.

“Double awesome, a case too. But can you guys really afford it?”

“Don’t worry about that. Enjoy it.”

“It’s not a harmonica, it won’t fit in your pocket. Your mom and I pitched in so Terry could buy it with the case.”

“That’s true dad. Thanks.”

I finished taking out the sax, put it together and started checking it out. It felt just like the old one. I played the solos from our two songs, the opening to Meat Loaf’s ‘All Revved Up With No Place to Go,’ and the solo in Jim Steinman’s ‘Rock and Roll Dreams Come Through.’ Both of those songs written by Steinman, by the way.

“Whoa, bro. You learned those last two on your own?”

“Yeah. And wrote the first two. The last piece was the main reason I bought the sax in the first place, hoping the band would play it, but it got vetoed.”

“I don’t know the song, but that was a nice solo.”

“Thanks Marcy.”

They hung out for a little while, I tried to keep up with the conversation, but the sax kept taking my attention away. They all understood. After Terry and Marcy left, we got dressed nicer. The Rossi’s invited us to have dinner with them. I almost hated to leave the sax behind. Actually, I did hate to. But I did leave it.

Dinner at the Rossi’s was amazing. Mrs. Rossi made great Italian dishes, so we had baked ziti along with the ham and vegetables, and a nice choice if desserts. I don’t know about everybody else, but I was stuffed when we left.

Monday December 26

We’re supposed to be at the studio at 10. Quite a bit better than school. I offered to give Tyler a ride who needed to be in by 9:30, so I picked him up a little before 8:30 to have enough time to get him there on time.

“Thanks for picking me up, Pete. The bus is OK, it just takes so long.”

“No problem Ty. I’m going anyway, no reason not to. No big deal getting there early. And I’m sure it would have sucked with the suitcase.”

After we get to the building, Tyler has me drop my sax off in studio A. Then I hang out with him until it’s time to start recording. We quickly found out why Mick told us it was hard work making a record. Our other visits felt like playtime compared to today.

Fortunately we get the break in the afternoon to check into the hotel. Our bags were brought over for us earlier. It’s a short ride, but Atlantic arranged a limo for us. I think they wanted to prepare us for a potential future.

When we get to the hotel, everything’s arranged for us, I mean everything. Eddie, David, and Rich have their own rooms. Apparently visits by their girlfriends have been planned. Gabe will be sharing a room with Tyler. Since Tyler will be working with us all week, it was decided he would stay at the hotel too. Gabe agreed to share a room. Finally, Ant and I get a room together. We were figuring on one of us needing to sneak into the other’s room. That apparently won’t be necessary. Cool.

After we get our keys and bring our bags to our rooms, it’s back to the studio for more hard work. We finish at 7, pretty well spent. Tyler rides to the hotel with Gabe since they’ll be sharing a room. We all agree tonight we’ll meet in the hotel restaurant for dinner. We hope to be less tired the next night. The studio made reservations at a nearby restaurant, Don Pepe’s for the whole team Wednesday evening. So, we know that day will be a shorter one. Ant and I made out for a while after dinner, shared hand jobs and fell asleep early.

Tuesday December 27

We met in the restaurant again for breakfast. Ant and I weren’t the only ones who crashed early. Aside from a long phone call with Rob, which kept Tyler up a little bit later, everybody was asleep by 10.

When we got to Atlantic, Mick was waiting with a handful of 45’s.

“These are hitting record stores next Tuesday. They’re are also promo copies going out to 40 radio stations throughout the US, same day. We’ll be hitting 80 more next Friday.”

“Are they what we think they are?”

“They are indeed, Eddie. The first copies of your single.”

The rest of the Atlantic team cheered for us as Mick handed us each a record. There it was in vinyl with the yellow Atlantic label. ‘Try Harder’ b/w ‘Cold as Ice.’

“Somebody pinch me. I’m dreaming.”

“If you’re dreaming Pete, it must be a mass hallucination, ‘coz we’re all having the same dream.”

“Unbelievable Rich. Fucking unbelievable.”

Everybody agreed with me. We got out a little earlier tonight and found a nice Italian restaurant for dinner. It was only a little after 8 when we got back to the hotel. Ant and I celebrated getting the record in our own special way. Just like Saturday night. Twice again.

Wednesday and Thursday nights each only consisted of one lovemaking session. Gabe took a ride Thursday evening, so Tyler and Rob could have some hotel time as well. Tyler confided in me on Friday it was a double play for them as well. We finished recording around 3 on Friday. All that was left was to put it all together, and that was up to Mick and the engineers. Mick guessed the album would debut sometime in March, with 'Running Out of Time' dropping as our second single. It would be backed with 'In Another World'. All we could do is go back to our normal routines and wait for both the singles, and the album.


Next up - "Single Day and the First Real Concert"

Copyright © 2023 Lee Wilson; All Rights Reserved.
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Chapter Comments

Good chapter. A  rock musician sitting down through a performance is  unusual (possible exception keyboard player but even then) but not unprecedented during a late 70's tour guitarist Jimmy Page of Led Zeppelin played the guitar while sitting down during the performance I don't know what health problem he had.

With the new sax Pete got for Christmas maybe they can add Born To Run in their set.

I am going to take a guess (probably wrong) remember in chapter one where Pete thinks he may not be I the band any longer and Eddie was angry? Could the lawsuit Pete's dad is bringing have had some backlash effect? Like it affected someone in the Band' s family or perhaps Atlantic is being sued by another party for not having proper security at the studio. Like I said probably wrong

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That was actually said once already in chapter four:

"No. Dad talked about it when I got home yesterday, so I only acted surprised."

"Asshole."

"Thanks Rich. I appreciate the compliment."

"Then how's this compliment. Fucking asshole. You're out of the band."

Eddie said that so seriously.

"What?"

"You heard me. I'm tired of your practical jokes."

The rest of the guys are as shocked as I am until Eddie bursts out laughing.
 

I’m not sure yet how it will be said again. I’m obviously not ready to end the story anytime soon. Pete leaving the band would probably be a precursor to my typing the words ‘the end.’

Oh, I recently saw a portion of a Peter Frampton concert on PBS where he was sitting down. Rare, but it does occur. Jeff Healy plays the guitar seated as well (see the movie Roadhouse.)

Edited by Lee Wilson
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