High

Three young women have one thing in common: Music. They have their own issues such as suicide, alcoholism, weight gain and depression to deal with, besides their husbands rather fragile egos. These young women are going places, on their own terms and must overcome lifes’ obstacles. Do you think suicide, weight gain and fear will hold these woman down? No way. Beth must deal with her own inner demons and overprotective mother. She is in love with Jon, her guitar playing boyfriend. She is his muse, his inspiration for his music. He loves her except when she screws up. Stephanie has to learn to let go and shake off her abusive past, destructive parents and be free to love Ian, her bass playing husband. Heather is stuck in a humdrum relationship with Phil the pessimistic drummer and learns that breaking away sometimes is the payoff to success in the world. Catch up on all the hilarius girl talk in High.

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2. High

Chapter 2

 

A new gig in a new joint. The other band wives weren’t joining me tonight, so it would mean a night of boredom and aloneness, no girl talk.

 

I thought about Stephanie’s problem. Sex was a tricky issue. You never really knew the mechanics of the problem unless you were there in the room and trying to imagine it was even worse. I couldn’t even try.

 

Our sex life was pretty good, in a regular, predictable sort of way. There were no kinky surprises or weird encounters, just the usual late Sunday morning routine. Safe yet satisfying. Phil was pretty much on schedule with his desire. (Or lack of it)

 

We had a lot of passion in the beginning of our relationship. Our heated arguments would often end up in a lovemaking session in the kitchen or on the floor. Now if we argued we’d end up on our computers, endlessly Googling crap or searching EBay for more useless junk. EBay has probably saved a lot of marriages.

 

I don’t know much about Jon and Beth’s private life. Beth kept a tight lid on that relationship. I knew they had some problems but I kept out of it. They had issues, but were quiet about it.

 

The band was setting up at The Surf Café, a cool little known joint by the railroad tracks. You could watch the trains go by from bamboo window shades. Phil was setting up his drum set. It was a pink champagne set he had from when he was a kid. Phil keeps all his equipment in pristine condition. Ian was on his knees, rummaging through a bag of cords. Jon was walking around in an aimless, dazed stupor, carrying his beer in one hand and smoking a cig with another.

 

Phil comes over for some customary hooch out of my bag. He is almost out; the Captain Morgan rum bottle is getting empty. I sit at a high top table by the window, trying to stay out of the way. The band is always tense when setting up their shit. Must be a macho thing, testosterone pumping through their veins as they check the mics and amplifiers.

 

No girl talk tonight, this sucks…I miss the gossip, the friendly banter, the endless complaining and moaning. I knew Stephanie was at home, but where was Beth tonight?

 

“Where’s Beth?” I asked Jon

 

“Rehab.” He said quietly.

 

“No way.” I was shocked.

 

“Yeah, she freaked out last night, almost killed herself…Again.” He looked sad for his age.

 

“Oh my God….I am so sorry.” I put my arm around Jon. He was such a good kid.

 

“Yeah, me too,” he said.

 

I felt really bad for Jon. This was like the fifth time that Beth had relapsed. He loved her, so he kept on hanging on, hoping she could get it together. But then she’d freak out if something went wrong, and drink herself into a state of hysteria. Jon was cute, real skinny and bony and tall. He looked like a duckling that was yet to turn into a swan. He had long brown hair and about five days worth of beard on his face.

 

“So what now?” I asked.

 

“I don’t know, just take it day by day I guess.”

 

I nodded and smiled at him in a reassuring way. He went to the bar to get another beer. That couple had drama all the time. We didn’t really have that kind of drama any more, we were getting mellow in our old age.

 

I looked around the bar. Two blondes came in, some dudes were at the bar watching the game on the big Plasma above the bar. It would be a good night. Jon had a lot of original songs he did. He was a really good songwriter.

 

Phil was trying to help him get his shit to some important ears in the industry. Phil considered himself a mentor to Jon. Jon considered himself the next best thing in the music business. He was pretty confident of his abilities. But Jon’s’ downfall was that he was stubborn and wanted to produce himself. Phil disagreed. Phil wanted to talk him into doing a record with great session players on it, a masterpiece to be his calling card.

 

Jon was talking about maybe moving out to Austin,Texas to be a player in a bigger market. He would be playing with the big boys out there. Phil didn’t think he was ready yet. Phil said give it another year, but Jon was fired up and ready to haul ass. If he didn’t have the girl holding him back he probably would have left already.

 

I sipped my soda. Today had been a shitty day at work. Why was it that there is always some controlling bitch at work that wants to put her power trip on you? First she comes off as a friend, a confidant and then turns all the info that she has gleaned on me into ammunition for her power play. She confronted me today but I backed off and ignored her. The anger was still lingering inside of me. I try not to be too stressed because I have heard that stress can cause cancer. I’m not getting cancer because of this woman at work!!!

 

I tried to forget about it all. This was our music world, a world separate from the real world of bosses and paychecks and fax machines and the bullshit called the day job. The guys did not have day jobs. They were artists. Someone had to keep the bills paid and do the boring stuff.

 

This was the night shift. This is our time to create and make music and hang out and be cool. I tried to forget it, let it all go…Just be cool baby, be cool…

 

Ian and Jon came over to my table and started talking shit about the band Greenday. Phil tested the mics, bathed in pink and blue lights. It was going to be a long night, without the girls…

 

 

 

 

Stephanie ran the bath water and put in some bubble bath. The bubbles reached to the rim of the tub. She put her finger in. The water was the perfect temperature. She took off her robe and looked at herself in the mirror. She was well rounded, her breasts were full and her behind voluptuous. She didn’t feel bad about her body, not as bad as Ian did. When she was alone she was totally comfortable in her nakedness. Around him she was self-conscious and always felt as though she had to live up to some porn star fantasy or something. Didn’t he know those women were all airbrushed?

 

She sat back in the tub and lit an aromatherapy candle, Hawaiian Dream. It did smell heavenly. It felt so good to be home, alone, to unwind and relax. She didn’t really feel like hanging out in some crowded, loud bar again, although it was always nice to be near Ian when he was playing. But she needed this alone time. They were always running around to his band practices, work gigs and rehearsals.

 

Her mind wandered to Brad. He was her secret soul mate. She wondered what he was doing right now. Maybe he was thinking of her too. She had checked him out on Face Book. He was there, along with his wife and three kids. She often thought of him.

 

She and Brad had shared an out of body connection once. It was like two souls coming together, it was more than physical, it was spiritual. He was like no other man she had ever known.

 

But she knew that the minute she met Ian he was the one for her. She just knew. She wanted more than anything in the world just to please him.

 

Stephanie lay back in the tub and astral projected to Brad’s bed in Nantucket. She could imagine lying there and he would be making love to her and loving her body, mind and soul.

 

Her cell phone rang. She looked at the number. It was Ian.

 

“Hello.”

 

“Hi baby, you sound kind of tired. Are you alright?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine…How’s the gig?” she asked

 

“We haven’t started yet…..I was just thinking of you.”

 

“Really cool…I was just thinking of you too.” It was true.

 

“What are you doing now?’ he asked.

 

“I’m in the tub.”

 

“I have to go…We’re going on, I’ll talk to you later baby.”

 

She hung up the phone and astral traveled back to Nantucket.

 

The lights in the joint dimmed down. The band kicked into the first song, an original called “You.” Jon was electric on his guitar, moving and grooving to the rhythm. Phil was steady on the drums and Ian was mellow on bass. The band sounded really good.

 

 

 

Beth lay in her hospital bed and stared at the TV mounted on the wall. She was in here because she had fucked up once again. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Why? Why was she so fucked up? Was it because of her mother? Because of Jon? Because of her? Who was to blame? It seemed as though everyone in her life tried to control her every move. She felt trapped and alone. She wondered where Jon was tonight. Was he with someone else?

 

 

 

Jon sang on stage, bright lights shining in his eyes. He had to fight back the urge to cry as he sang Beth’s song. The song he wrote for her. The song he was sure would be a number one hit all over the world if only the world could hear his music. Every word resonated in his heart. He thought of Beth locked up somewhere, alone in some ward. It tore him apart. He was unable to reach out to her, to hold her and tell her it would all be all right.

 

 

 

Beth picked up the phone. She dialed Jon’s number. It rang and rang and then his voicemail picked up. She hung up. Fuck it. She knew he was getting tired of her. But she loved him so much. Why couldn’t she just keep it together? Why? Why?

 

Stephanie stepped out of the tub and grabbed her white terry cloth robe and wrapped her wet hair up in a towel. She rubbed some almond cream on her face. She loved beauty products, they made her feel so pampered.

 

She once again thought of Brad. Why did these feelings persist after so many years? She sat down at her laptop and looked at his picture again on Face Book. There he was, smiling and looking as handsome as ever. She thought of sending him a message but changed her mind. If he still cared for her he would have to make the first move. Why should she?

 

Ian would be home later. She had to try with Ian. She would lay awake in the dark, waiting for him. Maybe tonight he would come home and they would make love, maybe…unless he was too damn tired, his usual excuse.

 

 

 

The band decided what to play. They counted down the song…2,3,4…it was a song I’ve heard so many times before, a cover song. I watched Phil. He waved to me. Things were going well tonight, we hadn’t had an argument yet, which was a miracle. He usually would find a way to say some nasty quip and piss me off by the end of the night.

 

 

 

The clock read 3:25am. Stephanie lay in bed and pretended to be asleep. She heard the door open. Ian was home. She lay naked on the bed, her body bathed in the moonlight. He stumbled into the bedroom.

 

“Hi.”

 

“You awake?”

 

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for you.”

 

“Why baby?”

 

“You know, I thought that maybe we might…”

 

“Uh….I don’t feel well….” He threw up on the bed.

 

 

 

 

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