Part 50 (2/2)

Snow, gra.s.s, Thrkish hash, speed, bennies. The grinding, soul-wrenching

rock of Janis Joplin poured out as his guests took their pick. He

wanted to listen to her, again and again, to hear her belt out ”Ball and

Chain.” Somehow it helped him grab onto the fact that he was alive, he

still had a chance to make it matter.

He watched Stevie dance with a redhead in a purple miniskirt. Stevie

didn't worry about beirfg a figurehead or turning into a poster for some

girl's wall, Brian mused as he washed down pretzels with smooth Irish

whiskey. Stevie gleefully jumped from woman to woman without a care in

his head. Of course, he was stoned most of the time. With a half-laugh,

Brian picked another joint out of the bowl and decided it was time to

get stoned himself

From across the room, Johnno watched Brian settle back. Distancing

himself, Johnno reflected as he chose a Gauloise over gra.s.s. It had

been happening more and more recently. Perhaps because Johnno was

closest to Brian, he had been the only one to notice. He thought now

that the only time Brian seemed truly in tune was when the two of them

sat down to write. Melody, countermelody, phrases, bridges.

He knew Brian had been upset by the deaths of Hendrix and Joplin. So had

he. In its way, it had been as devastating as the Kennedy

a.s.sa.s.sinations. People were supposed to grow old and decrepit before

they died. But though he'd been shaken, he hadn't mourned as Brian was

mourning. Then, Brian always cared more, needed more.

Like Brian, he glanced over at Stevie. He didn't like what he saw. It

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