Dar Soul and Max

Chapter 2: Not everyone makes it out alive

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I pulled her head back by her hair and kissed her neck. I kissed my way to her perfect breasts. Sucking on her hard nipples. Giving each equal attention. She squirmed under me, digging her nails into my back. I worked my way down her flat stomach, over her shaved mound. I began sucking on her penis. PENIS!!

Crap, I woke up with a start and started vomiting. I hated my past life, it never seemed to go away. Good thing I am a rock star now. Waking up vomiting in a bathtub was nothing new. That lovely woman I was dreaming of was my ex-wife, Penelope. No, she does not have a penis. Ever since I caught her cheating, my mind has tormented me. I'm no shrink, and in this case, it is obvious the penis is that of her lovers. What it really means is I didn't medicate (drink) enough after the show last night. The good news is we are heading to Vegas tonight. Hopefully leaving L.A. will help with the dreams and flashbacks. I was in the military, and I have more PTSD from my marriage than combat. And I was deep in the combat for a bit.

I stripped and stuffed my clothes in the trash. After cleaning the shower, a liquid diet is easy to clean, I used it. Running it on hot. I got out and headed to the main room to get dressed. Once there, I remembered why I was in the tub. On the bed, passed out, was Malice, or by his real name Edward Lyncheon. He wasn't alone, there were three rather beautiful women on the bed with him. I threw on some sweats, grabbed a bottle of Jack, and went to the balcony.

The morning L.A. air was a light pollution. There was a nice breeze off the ocean. I sat down and the previous night came back.

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After the show, I had followed my usual routine. Go back to the green room, take off my makeup, change, and slink out the back door. Rocky was there with Leona, the two girls were with Rocky's sister who had also flown in, back at the hotel. I didn't know anything about the sister, never meeting anyone in Rocky's family since they were in the states, and he was in Ireland or Europe, the entire time I knew him.

Leona, Rocky, and I talked, both of them making sure I wouldn't do anything stupid like run away or worse. Once I passed the interrogation, I got in the limo and headed to the hotel. I decided on a bottle of champagne to celebrate my last show in L.A. About an hour of sitting on the balcony there was knocking at the door. I opened it expecting Rocky and Leona again. Instead, I was greeted by a tall, well-proportioned brunette. She walked in followed by a shorter curvier brunette, and a tall skinny model-like blonde. Last came Malice, all 6'5, 230 solid muscle, shaved head, and goatee.

I was staring at the tall brunette, thinking I knew her, which started to paralyze me in fear. She looked at me for a minute also, before pouring herself a shot of tequila. I was pulled out of my trance when Malice grabbed my shoulder and pulled me close. He bent slightly and whispered in my ear, "You like the tall brunette? You can have her. I know you never do anything, but please help yourself."

I snapped out of it, "Sorry Malice, not tonight. I'll just be in the bathroom, like usual." I finished off the bubbly, grabbed a full bottle of jack, and headed into the bathroom.

This wasn't the first time I let one of my bandmates use my room. They knew I never hooked up like they did. They never knew exactly why. If their room was a mess, the bus wasn't available, or whatever reason, I let them use mine. As long as they left me alone. I usually crashed in the tub and drank.

I couldn't help shake that I knew the tall brunette. I was jumping at every shadow since I got off the plane at LAX. I brushed it off. It wouldn't matter, I was out of here the next day, heading to Vegas.

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As I enjoyed the morning, I felt someone come up behind me, "Morning," she said. It was the tall brunette (crap). I could smell the coffee as she sat in a chair next to me. She had on one of the hotel robes. I was dressed, and bucket hat on, that I usually wore when people I didn't trust were around. Pretty much anyone not associated with the band.

I nodded and raised my bottle to her. We both drank our drinks and sat in silence.

"Names Sandy," she said. Shit, shit, shit, that sounded familiar too. One of my ex's friends I think. The alcohol made things foggy, so I knew it worked, but for once I kinda wanted to remember. I decided to play it cool.

"I'm Dark Soul," I replied.

"Really sticking to that?" she said snickering a little.

"There is a reason for it," I was really hoping she would drop it.

Fortunately, I was saved if she wasn't finished. The short brunette came out with coffee, still naked. "Whiskey?" she asked.

I nodded, and she held out her mug. I poured some in for her and sat on the chair on the other side of me. There was a towel on it I hadn't noticed before. Sandy didn't seem to want to pursue any more questions while the other woman was there, so we sat in what I considered pleasant silence.

After a few minutes, we could here Malice and the blond moving around and before long the sounds of sex were coming from the room. Sandy seemed uncomfortable. "He is insatiable. Does he ever stop," she asked.

The other brunette chuckled, "You didn't mind last night."

"I was drunk Lynn, and never again. I have no idea what I was thinking," Sandy said sounding rather down.

"It was the 10" cock you saw, is what you were thinking. Same as me and same as Goldilocks in there. I'm surprised he didn't split her in half. Felt like I was, and I am thicker than both of you. Might never do it again, but it sure as hell was worth it," Lynn said. She held he half-full mug out as she finished speaking, and I filled it more. I was already down to half a bottle as I drank some more.

"To answer your question, yes he is insatiable," I said. Not sure why I was talking.

Lynn looked at me close, "What's your story? Gay? Bi? Into some freaky voyeur shit, jacking off in the tub all night?"

Another swig. Jack give me strength. "Hurt," I said simply.

I could feel Sandy watching me like she was trying to figure something out. Lynn continued her questions, guess I wasn't saved, "Ahhh, dick cut off in some weird satanic ritual or something?"

I took a big swig finishing the bottle off. As I stood and headed into the room, all I said was, "Worse."

Malice and the skinny blonde had moved their activities into the shower. As I grabbed another bottle and headed towards the door I could hear Lynn and Sandy.

"What could be worse than losing your penis?" asked Sandy.

Lynn chuckled, I kinda liked her laugh, "It all makes sense now. No wonder I love him so much. You've never been on the hurt end, Sandy. I have. Trust me, there is worse hurt, and it usually comes from someone you love the most."

I actually hesitated a minute before opening the door. For the first time since I was destroyed by my wife I considered going back and possibly getting to know someone more personal. Then Sandy spoke and blew it, "I think I know him. I don't know where though. Just something familiar, but it would have been a long time ago." And with that, I was out.

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As I was walking by the hotel restaurant I heard laughter and thick Irish accents. I headed inside to find Rocky and his clan eating breakfast. His sister wasn't with them, just Leona, and Rocky, and their daughters.

"Everything alright?" Rocky asked as I pulled up a seat.

"Yeah. Ed borrowed my room. Was waiting for his guests to leave," I told him. Leona hated us using our band names. Especially around the children.

The waiter came by and I ordered some pancakes and sausage, and a glass of water. I opened my jacket to check my inside pocket to see what I grabbed. It was vodka, perfect. I chugged the water and refilled it myself. I got the usual glares from Leona as we ate, and I drank. The girls filled me in on their fun day in L.A. I actually smiled. Something about their joy and wonder in everything was contagious. The only times I really smiled were around Rocky's little angels.

After breakfast, we all walked out. I asked Rocky where the bus was. It was still at the arena. I told him I'd be on the bus and not to worry. I gave them all hugs and headed to grab a cab.

Darryl, my longtime bus driver, was there inspecting the bus, making sure everything was getting loaded. I spoke to Darryl briefly before stepping on the bus. Diane was already on doing her thing on her tablet. We spoke briefly before I settled into my seat. It was nothing unusual for me to camp out on the bus with one of the twins doing their manager thing.

What was unusual was something sticking in my back. It wasn't a knife, I knew what those felt like, in the figurative wife backstabbing sort of way. I reached back and found one of Malice's drumsticks. Probably from the orgy he had on the bus after our first show in L.A.

I couldn't help think back to the early days of the band. The Happy Demon's Dance Party wasn't the first iteration of my band. I never intended on having a band much less touring. This thing evolved to the juggernaut it is. My first drummer and Rocky were the ones that really got me started. Rocky had encouraged my songwriting and playing, and even recording. It took me longer to get started on the recording. I couldn't find anyone to play with. Until I met Max.

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About three months into working at Rocky's music store, I had already started forming songs, and ideas for albums, and a tour. One can dream. It was a good outlet for me. I got the rage out in Afghanistan in my brushes with death. The last one getting me honorably discharged. I was still in a dark place emotionally, and Rocky could only do so much. The music helped me focus things. I was a metal head at heart, so the music I was coming up with was emotionally, and physically exhausting when I really let loose. I played with different musicians at the store, honing things, and selling things. I was a one-man band and called myself Dark Soul. It came from something Rocky said to me once. That I still had a dark scar on my soul from what my wife did to me. Somehow Dark Soul stuck in my head, and my alter ego started to form.

Guitarists came and went, and after a couple of months, I had the framework for an album. Things didn't take off until Max, and I teamed up. I saw Max almost every day but never talked to him, other than a passing hello. Every day he came in for an hour and played drums. Rocky told me he was an ER nurse at the nearby hospital. his hours varied, but he came in almost without fail to blow off some steam on the drums.

One night Rocky voluntold me I had to stay late. Max's shift had run late at the hospital and had asked Rocky if he could stay and play for a bit. Rocky, being such a good guy said sure, and I would be happy to lock up. Be honest I didn't care. I usually stayed late and played and drank anyway. Had no one to go back to. I made a final pass to make sure everything was locked up. I went to check on Max and actually heard him play. I was blown away. The man was one of the best drummers I never heard of. He didn't pound on them as much as caressed sounds out of them. His rhythm was lightning fast and on point. As I watched, it took me a minute to realize his hands were faster than my eyes. I closed my eyes and listened. I knew what I had to do.

I grabbed my guitar and went into the drum room. Plugging into an amp, I started playing along with Max. At first, I couldn't follow. He slowed down, and I gave him a look. He sped back up, and after a couple of minutes, I was playing along. Another few minutes we were pushing each other. After a while, we had to stop. He had busted a drum head, I had a busted string, and we were both panting and sweating.

He spoke first, "You're Rocky's friend, Jake."

"Yeah. You're Max." I set down my guitar and grabbed a couple of bottles of water Rocky kept in small fridges around the place. I handed one to Max. We drank and didn't talk for a bit.

As customary around me, he spoke first again, "You're the first person that could ever keep up with me. What are you doing in a place like this?"

"Got nowhere else to be. Don't need the money, and I like the guitars. The music soothes me." Something hit me all of a sudden. "You're American?"

"Yes, I am. Florida, to be exact. Fell in love with my wife Helen while in nursing school. She happened to be British. We moved back to London, but she got a job at the hospital down the road, and I was lucky enough to get hired on in the ER. I come in here relieve stress from the job, while my wife is at work." I'd seen Helen the few times they came in together, and I thought she was pretty enough to move across the pond for. To me, she looked like the sexy librarian. Conservatively dressed, glasses, hair usually was done up in a bun. Something about her, I couldn't help imagine that once that bun came down, the sex goddess came out. Whips, and chains, and all. "What's your story?", Maxed asked.

I pulled out my flask I kept in my jacket and took a swig as he finished his water. "I'm from L.A. Ended up here by way of betrayal and depression."

"Not much for words. I get it. I see you playing like you are putting something together. What are you planning on?" he asked as he was cleaning things up.

I was doing the same as I responded, "Not sure Max, but playing with you gave me some ideas. If I get a couple more guys would you mind recording some songs?"

"No one's ever asked me that before. Most people say I'm too fast and out of control. Guess the days of Megadeth are over. Sure, if you think we can make something of it. Heck, who I am kidding. I just like playing and doing something other than the same ole would be fun." He looked at the one drum that broke. "Looks like I owe Rocky a couple of sticks and drum head."

"Tell you what Max, I'll take care of them for you. If you promise to help with some songs and play on the record," I proposed. Never having anything to lose makes you bold.

He smiled and extended his hand. "Sure thing. Let me know when and where."

We shook on it. I let him out and finished up. The next day I decided to set things in motion. The bassist was easy. There was this quiet guy, came in time to time picking up strings, or just hanging out checking out new gear. He was in a band, playing around doing covers of whatever suited them that evening. One night I heard something not many people would have picked up. He must have been bored, which he always looked to be on stage. At first, you would think it was too cool for this look, but I realized he really was bored, and playing beneath his skill.

The night in question I had heard the bassist warming up. At first, it was nothing, but after a minute he was ripping through riffs better than some lead guitarists. He saw me looking at him, waved and went off to grab a drink. The rest of the night he was just playing the basic riffs of the cover songs. Nothing like when he was warming up.

Now that I was forming some sort of band, I wanted to see if he would be interested in bassist. As fate would have it, he came in the music store the next day. I went up to him, "Can we talk a second?"

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked. He had a British accent.

"No. I have a proposition for you."

He looked at me suspiciously before answering, "Sure. Why not."

"My name is Jake, and I was wondering if you would like to play in a band I am putting together?" I asked.

He stared down at me. I am almost 6'. This guy was about 6'6". "I'm Daniel. I remember you, from a few weeks ago. At least you've heard me play. Can I hear you?" he asked.

I nodded to where I had my gear was almost always set up. I unplugged the headphones from the amp but kept the amp low so as not to blast out the whole store. I did some simple riffs, then kicked into some of the songs I was playing with Max the previous night. Daniel grabbed a bass, plugged in, and played along. I noticed as he played, he didn't look bored like when I saw him previous. He was really digging it and keeping up. After an hour I noticed we had a good-sized audience. We stopped, and the crowd applauded.

Daniel went over and wrote something down. He came back and handed it to me. "Here is my number. Call me when you are ready to record," he said. He went over, grabbed his purchase, and headed out.

Almost there. Now I needed a lead guitarist. I wanted to focus on the rhythm and vocals. I knew a lot of guitarist through the store. Most I've seen or talked to had more ego than talent. At least for what I wanted.

For the next month Daniel, Max, and I met a couple times a week and worked on the songs. We were thinking about being a trio. None of us really knew any lead guitarists we thought would fit in. Rocky gave me a week off. Told me he was getting sick of my depressed ass. I did try going in, but he threatened to kick my ass.

I happened to be sober that day moment, so I decided to go for a ride.

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My thoughts were interrupted as I heard Malice, Merciless, and Anarchy step on the bus. I hadn't realized it was getting close to us leaving. I set my guitar down and grabbed a fresh bottle. They nodded at me and took their seats, except Malice. He came over.

"Sorry about this morning, Jake," he said in a low voice. He must have felt bad to use my real name.

"Not a problem," I said handing him his sticks. I knew I should have just left last night. For some reason, I wasn't upset. In the past I had been upset if people talked to me I didn't know. Especially ones that like to ask about my past. It's been almost ten years. Maybe I was starting to get over things.

He took his sticks. "Thanks, was looking for these. Oh, the short one, Lynn left this for you. Funny thing about her. I did her once, and she was done. The other two I did all night and this morning. Her I did only once. She sat on the patio almost the whole night drinking. kinda like you would have." Malice had an envelope in his hand he had extended. I took it but didn't open it. The only thing written on it was "Dark Soul".

"Thanks, Malice," and with that, he went and sat down.

Just then Rocky stuck his head in, "All set?" he asked.

Darryl the driver was writing some things down on his clipboard before setting it down. "Sure are Rock. See you in Vegas," Darryl said.

With that, Rocky headed back to his car he had with his family, Darryl closed the door, and off we went. Rocky's sister had headed back to New York. I let out a sigh of relief. I survived without crossing my ex. Now I could get on with the tour, and back under my rock in Europe. The more I thought about it, the more I thought about retiring. I stared at the envelope from Lynn. I took a long drink from my bottle of alcohol and stared out the window. I slipped off into a restless sleep.

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Everything was dark. I heard screaming. "Jake, don't." "Max! Put the gun down." "Jake, I'm sorry. He didn't mean anything." "Max, I'm sorry, it just happened." A couple different women's voices, all at different points in my life. I knew what was coming next, but I couldn't brace myself. The gunshot in my dream woke me.

I was in Las Vegas, Nevada. We got in late the day before and checked into the penthouse of Mandalay. We had a show at the House of Blues that night. I got up grabbed a bottle and headed to the bathroom.

When I came out of my room dressed, and looking for another bottle, I was greeted by the band, the twins, Darryl, and Rocky and his family. They all greeted me, and I grunted my heartfelt reply. I grabbed a bottle and hat and headed out. It was four in the afternoon. Figure I'd head to the theater. The previous day and night I had spent with Rocky overseeing the unloading and set up. We had a good crew, I just did it as a reason not to be seen out and about. The rest of the guys went out and did their thing. Not sure when they got back, but they weren't bringing anyone back while in Vegas. Rocky's family would be hanging around the penthouse, and the guys respected it.