The Curse - Cover

The Curse

Copyright© 2007 by Katzmarek

Chapter 21

Drama Sex Story: Chapter 21 - A young girl singer turns up for an audition for a 70s covers band. Mick Johnson, a cynical old guitarist, sits up and takes notice.

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Teenagers   Group Sex   Oral Sex  

"C sharp?" The Dodger raised his eyebrows, "who plays in C sharp?"

"I didn't write it," shrugged Mick.

The Dodger kicked the stompbox at his feet. He tried the pedals - bass, treb, fuzz, wah/fuzz and something called a 'swell.' He pressed down the reverb pedal and strummed a C sharp chord. "Cool!" he said, "shall we start? Someone count me in?"

The song started with just the bass and drums - only a little hi-hat, with the beat hammered out on the floor tom. The Dodger came in next followed by Mick.

Michelle's father furrowed his eyebrows and moved next to Mick. "You're playing flat, mate," he shouted in his ear.

"S'posed to be," Mick yelled back, "a dischord!"

"Silly me!" he shrugged, "wouldn't do for the Eagles," he told his daughter as she came in to listen.

"The Eagles suck!" Michelle told The Dodger.

Her father recoiled in shock, having not heard such disrespect in a long time.

'Nice limbo you have here, ' Anna sang - clear and beautifully. 'Baby come back to my world.'

In front of them in their old rehearsal space Mick could see Donna dancing in twirls, her dress flowing around her. Sabra on the other side of the sound desk was nodding to the beat with a big grin on her face.

'Death is next door, death is next door... Baby come back to my world.'

The Dodger made it to the end and, he had to admit, he enjoyed playing this music with his daughter.

"Donna?" he called, "would you say Mick was playing off key?"

"Um, no," Donna replied, "I thought it was supposed to sound like that?"

"See?" Mick grinned.

"Sounded off key to me," he grumbled.

They'd nailed the song, then it was on to the next - the a'la'capella number Mick had written especially for the occasion. Mick gave them a key on a mouth harp, then began to sing.

'Smoke from smooth Havana drifts lazily in the sky'

'The distant sparkle shines blue in your eyes.'

'Your crazy visions all around my head'

'Dreaming you were no longer dead.'

"That's Bessie Smith, isn't it?" The Dodger said. "Your paraphrasing!"

"It's a reference, no more," Mick snapped, irritated.

"More than a fucking reference I woulda thought," The Dodger continued.

"I think it's nice," declared Anna.

"See?" said Mick.

"So, what, if it's not completely original?" Michelle began.

"Hey?" Mick started.

"Guys?" Donna said, "do you always argue like that?"

"Sure!" Anna shrugged, "it's creation!"

Everyone laughed at Anna's comment, besides Anna, who couldn't quite fathom the irony. Mick thought it felt good to be playing and arguing with everyone again.

Freddie's funeral was held in a church - only the second time, Terry mused, that he'd set foot in one. There were more people inside than out and the pews were crammed. The immediate family and a few friends then held a private ceremony before the casket was fed into the flames. Following that, it was back to the gardens they'd hired for the celebration of Freddie's life.

At one end, a stage had been set up and a roster of bands and musicians had been organised to entertain the mourners. A brief appearance of the still-living members of Freddie and Mick's old band The Strobes was to be followed by a cameo from The Curse.

Donna enticed her father to leave the Mercury and attend. He'd told her he'd had enough of funerals but this was a funeral like no other. Instead of tears and sadness, by nightfall, the place was rocking and noise officers had been to insist they turned down the volume.

"Have a heart," The Dodger told the officers, "can't you see this is a fucking funeral?"

Video cameras were on hand to record the possible final appearance of The Curse, or, as Mick called it, in reference to The Dodger's inclusion, 'The Curse heavy'.

'Nice Limbo you have here. Baby come back to your world.'

The place was jumping and Anna sparkled. It was like old times, Mick thought, and a shame to let something so special, die.

"I still say you were playing off key," grumbled The Dodger afterwards to Mick.

"Who's Peter Perfect?" Mick retorted, "that last part on Limbo was open string, dampen the strings with your hand, then strum over the pick up. Why'd you use a plectrum?"

"Cos me fingers are too soft, smartarse. I haven't played seriously in years."

"It showed!"

"You cheeky bastard..."

Listening in to the bantering was Michelle and Donna. The two women found they actually got along well.

"They'll be fighting in a minute," Donna warned.

"Nah!" she grinned. "Dad's all wind and Mick's a pussy. Dad actually thinks the world of Mick. They go back a long way."

"Seems everyone thinks the world of him," Donna sighed. "Women especially."

"Ah!" Michelle patted Donna on the shoulder. "Sabra knows him better than anyone. Ask her why you're perfect for Mick?"

"Give me the short version?" Donna replied.

"Cos," she shrugged. "For one, you're not in the business. Two, you get along fine..."

"Three?"

"Ah, three?" Michelle sighed. "Three? Mick's only asked two women to marry him, Sabra and me. We both turned him down. You, on the other hand, asked him and he said yes. I'd say you're in for the long haul."

"Huh? How so?"

"Cos now the fucker will be too scared to cheat," he said, laughing. "You've established control."

"I didn't see it that way," Donna protested. "It seemed a natural thing to do at the time."

"Hey, did you do it the traditional way? Mick likes tradition. Y'know, on bended knees?"

"Um," she reddened, "sorta."

"Sorta? Oh, haha, I get it. Oh, Donna, that's a good one. I'll have to remember that. 'On bended knees'? Well, he couldn't say no, could he?"

"I guess not," she laughed.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mick spotted Sabra quietly disappearing out the gate with 'Stud, ' the sometime male model and aspiring actor. Her hand was lodged in the guy's belt and he nad his arm around her waist. 'Stud', he thought, was Anna's pick up, but, now, he realised, he was Sabra's 'piece of rough, '

He hadn't caught up with her yet, being too busy. Their passion had endured these twenty years and now, it seemed, they'd finally put it to bed and moved on. He felt a strange kind of disappointment and sense of loss. He wondered if they ever would have made the distance together - whether it remained a 'might have been' - or would the distrust still come between them?

Michelle was giggly drunk and shmoozing with Donna. They'd shared some good memories and a fleeting vision passed through his mind of the three of them, Michelle, Donna and he, all bunked up together in his bed. An intriguing notion, perhaps, but unlikely, given the circumstances. Her boyfriend, Garcia, was another drunk, he thought, as he looked across at the staggering singer. He speculated on how long the relationship was going to last. Given that, another tripartite set up wasn't entirely off the table, he mused.

Anna? Well, Anna was still working the crowd and had a small cluster of men grouped around her. Had she really fucked Dwight, he wondered, or was it all show? She was the master of the tease and could throw a bone now and again just to keep the guy interested. Maybe she was still technically a virgin and waiting for Mr, Right? Does this legendary guy actually exist? If he did, no doubt Anna will suss him out one day.

They'd had a good time tonight and The Curse felt good together. Without question they could reform and knock over the crowds again. America was the home of the second act and embraced stars that came back from the dead.

But at what cost, he wondered? Could he and Donna survive a revival? Donna, who eschewed the 'celebrity bullshit' but, at the same time, seemed to be enjoying the night - and the reflected attention of being Mick Johnson's fiance. Perhaps show business had stalked up to her from behind and seduced her with its glamour and falsehood? Here, at the funeral of his old pal Freddie, everything seemed possible.

"Hey babe?" Donna came up behing him and put her arms around his neck, "you didn't tell me Michelle was such a hottie?"

"Huh?" Mick looked back in surprise, "don't tell me you want to go off with her?"

"Depends," she giggled, running her hands over his chest, "on what you have to offer?"

"Mmm," he kissed her on the mouth, "wanna split?"

"Mmm," she kissed him back, "then what, hmm?"

"Aw, you two get a room," grumbled The Dodger, getting up.

"Then what?" Mick smiled, "we'll get you naked and then see."

"Ooo!" Donna slipped into the space vacated by The Dodger and cuddled up to Mick. "I enjoyed tonight," she told him, "I like your friends. I thought they'd be all wankers but I'm surprised."

"They're just normal people placed in abnormal situations," he replied. "Some let it go to their heads and others..."

"Y'think Anna's normal?"

"Tries to be," he laughed, "she's had a struggle to get where she is... stuff to overcome. With that much talent and beauty, it's hard to keep grounded."

"Too thin and leggy," she declared, "I prefer my women... more like Michelle."

"You checking out the talent?" he laughed.

"Don't you? Who would you have... ah, silly question, we already know..."

"Right now? You!" he declared.

"Liar!"

Mick took her hand and drew her to her feet.

Sabra was staying at Junior and Karen's. Mick arranged for the band to meet there to plan their future - if they had one - afternoon, the next day.

When he arrived, there was no sign of the male model. In answer to Mick's question Sabra told him she'd sent him out for milk, with a few dollars with which to buy candy.

"Funny!" he chuckled.

"And where's your squeeze, Mick? She seems to have a brain, which must be a pleasant change - Michelle accepted, of course."

"I'd say!" Michelle protested. She hadn't really got used to Sabra's ascorbic banter. "Donna's cool," she declared, "I like her."

"There you go, Mick?" Sabra smiled, evilly, "possibilities?"

"What are you suggesting, Sabra?" Michelle glared at their manager.

"Just winding you up, Michelle," Mick said, soothingly.

"Anyway, guys," Sabra brought everyone to order, "what are we going to do? How does everybody feel?"

"Good," Anna told her, "but I must leave soon for the USA. I have a tour..."

"So that's Anna out," declared Sabra, "you? Mick?"

"What's the point? We haven't a singer."

"Michelle? Sabra asked.

"It felt really good playing with everyone again," she said. "I think if folks wanted to reunite down the track a ways, I'd be game."

"Karen?"

"Sure," she shrugged, "like Michelle. I have a baby..."

"Yes, so full child care facilities on tour? Provision for families and partners, Mick? How would Donna take to an all expenses paid trip to Moscow?"

"Huh?" they chimed.

"Anna? You'll be in Berlin in two weeks, no?" she nodded, "how would you feel about joining The Curse for a one off gig in Russia?"

"Russia?" Anna replied, aghast.

"You haven't any outstanding warrants, there, I hope?" she grinned. "For arrest, I mean."

"No, no!" she replied, quickly.

"So, what's this all about?"

"The Russians want you to play at a festival on the 15th. There'll be five overseas acts - mostly Europop, so you ought to have the field, I'm thinking. No-one's doing your kind of material."

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