me.”
Heather sounded like she was growing sleepy, but she said, “Yeah?”
“Mmm-hmm. This little bar just off the beach. It had been a hot fuckin’ day, but the breeze off the ocean was nice and smelled fresh, and I was downing some stupid fruity drink. I wasn’t completely blitzed yet, but I was feeling pretty light, and this guy sits next to me. Looks really sad. Looks like he feels worse than I do, so I say something to that effect. He kinda laughed, but it was one of those polite laughs, you know, where you can tell he didn’t really think it was funny. So I said, ‘What happened to you was so bad you’re drinking that shit?’ I had no idea what he was drinking. I could only tell he was drinking it straight, and the bartender kept pouring new shots. So he laughs again and tells me he’s had the most incredible week in his life but also the shittiest. I couldn’t afford it, but I offered to buy him a drink anyway. Then he really laughed and said he’d buy me as many drinks as I could handle if I really wanted to listen. So I did. You probably know the story. He was putting together Shock Treatment, but he and Katie had kind of hooked up but that whole thing went down the shitter fast…so he was drowning out his sorrows. And he might have been putting together a band, but he had a drummer and bassist but no singer. Well, don’t tell the drunk guy that, ‘cause he’ll make an ass out of himself. So I sang shit all night long and we laughed our asses off. They kicked us out of the bar at closing time and we took a cab to Johnny’s place and kept drinking till we passed out in his living room. I woke up with a hell of a hangover. Johnny hardly seemed fazed. But after we had some coffee, he asked me to sing again. I said, ‘No way in hell.’ He asked me again then, because—he said—he’d heard something the night before that he thought he could work with. He said there was a kind of earnestness in my voice that couldn’t be taught or begged out of vocalists, and he’d be honored to hear me one more time. So I had another sip of my coffee and sang ‘Man in the Box’ and Johnny offered me the job on the spot.
“The guy who was our original drummer flaked out. Not sure what happened there, so when we had our first rehearsal, Mickey brought his friend Sage, and we’ve been a band ever since. So these guys…they’ve been like brothers to me. Friends, sure. Best friends? Nah. I don’t tell them stuff that really matters to me deep inside.” Kiefer got quiet for a few seconds. He hoped Heather understood what he was saying and wouldn’t minimize it, but at the same time he didn’t want to seem like a whiny bitch. He’d do fine without close friends—after all, he had for most of his life—but he wanted more, and that was the difference. He didn’t want to come across as weak, because he knew he wasn’t. He’d survived a lot. He just wanted more now. “So, when we connected, I found myself for probably the first time opening up.” Heather shifted so she could turn her head and look him in the eyes. He didn’t know that he was ready for that but damned if he could stop it. He hoped the full spectrum of his emotions for this woman wasn’t showing in his eyes, because somehow he knew she didn’t feel the same way. Somewhere along the journey he’d fallen for her and fallen hard. Being a close friend was perfect, because she had a beautiful soul. He knew it was a scarred soul, just because of things she’d said even though she’d never elaborate, but he loved her nonetheless. And then their recent physical connection sealed the deal. There was no getting out.
Her blue eyes were warm but guarded and Kiefer wished he could translate what they were trying to communicate, but in the short time they’d spent at Johnny’s, Kiefer had learned something about Heather—she was closed off, as though
Heather sounded like she was growing sleepy, but she said, “Yeah?”
“Mmm-hmm. This little bar just off the beach. It had been a hot fuckin’ day, but the breeze off the ocean was nice and smelled fresh, and I was downing some stupid fruity drink. I wasn’t completely blitzed yet, but I was feeling pretty light, and this guy sits next to me. Looks really sad. Looks like he feels worse than I do, so I say something to that effect. He kinda laughed, but it was one of those polite laughs, you know, where you can tell he didn’t really think it was funny. So I said, ‘What happened to you was so bad you’re drinking that shit?’ I had no idea what he was drinking. I could only tell he was drinking it straight, and the bartender kept pouring new shots. So he laughs again and tells me he’s had the most incredible week in his life but also the shittiest. I couldn’t afford it, but I offered to buy him a drink anyway. Then he really laughed and said he’d buy me as many drinks as I could handle if I really wanted to listen. So I did. You probably know the story. He was putting together Shock Treatment, but he and Katie had kind of hooked up but that whole thing went down the shitter fast…so he was drowning out his sorrows. And he might have been putting together a band, but he had a drummer and bassist but no singer. Well, don’t tell the drunk guy that, ‘cause he’ll make an ass out of himself. So I sang shit all night long and we laughed our asses off. They kicked us out of the bar at closing time and we took a cab to Johnny’s place and kept drinking till we passed out in his living room. I woke up with a hell of a hangover. Johnny hardly seemed fazed. But after we had some coffee, he asked me to sing again. I said, ‘No way in hell.’ He asked me again then, because—he said—he’d heard something the night before that he thought he could work with. He said there was a kind of earnestness in my voice that couldn’t be taught or begged out of vocalists, and he’d be honored to hear me one more time. So I had another sip of my coffee and sang ‘Man in the Box’ and Johnny offered me the job on the spot.
“The guy who was our original drummer flaked out. Not sure what happened there, so when we had our first rehearsal, Mickey brought his friend Sage, and we’ve been a band ever since. So these guys…they’ve been like brothers to me. Friends, sure. Best friends? Nah. I don’t tell them stuff that really matters to me deep inside.” Kiefer got quiet for a few seconds. He hoped Heather understood what he was saying and wouldn’t minimize it, but at the same time he didn’t want to seem like a whiny bitch. He’d do fine without close friends—after all, he had for most of his life—but he wanted more, and that was the difference. He didn’t want to come across as weak, because he knew he wasn’t. He’d survived a lot. He just wanted more now. “So, when we connected, I found myself for probably the first time opening up.” Heather shifted so she could turn her head and look him in the eyes. He didn’t know that he was ready for that but damned if he could stop it. He hoped the full spectrum of his emotions for this woman wasn’t showing in his eyes, because somehow he knew she didn’t feel the same way. Somewhere along the journey he’d fallen for her and fallen hard. Being a close friend was perfect, because she had a beautiful soul. He knew it was a scarred soul, just because of things she’d said even though she’d never elaborate, but he loved her nonetheless. And then their recent physical connection sealed the deal. There was no getting out.
Her blue eyes were warm but guarded and Kiefer wished he could translate what they were trying to communicate, but in the short time they’d spent at Johnny’s, Kiefer had learned something about Heather—she was closed off, as though
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